An Acute Case: 6 September 2024

Vulgar displays of POWER

Thomas Anderson: Hello, I’m From The Future
Some familiarity with any of the 13 releases in this small time (“103 monthly listeners”) Oklahoman’s 35-year career might’ve made this an easier nut to crack. In theory, they’re all story songs. But even the concepts I can make out (what happened to Judas Iscariot’s kids? Is Bowie’s phone still receiving calls in a box somewhere? What happens when a successful physician joins a cult?) seem like an excuse to drop anchor and explore new territories of rhyme. Unflagging in their metrical precision and not in any rush, a few feel like they’ll never end. That can be trying, especially if you’re only able to tread water in some of the references. But let Anderson’s boyish voice (it’s hard to imagine him sounding any younger in 1989) flow over you, tuning in and out of one well-turned couplet after another, and it might carry you away. A MINUS

Robert Finley: Black Bayou
After waiting nigh on a lifetime for his shot at the big-ish time, this legally blind ex-carpenter, America’s Got Talent semi-finalist, and military band leader’s “discovery” by the worthy bods at Music Maker Foundation led to a hook-up with The Black Keys’ Dan Auerbach and the shrewd decision to lean into the gospel sounds of his childhood. They add irresistible bottom to songs that don’t deviate much from standard blues themes: cheats, sneaks, witchy women, tour pussy, so on. But the rollin and tumblin never stops and his attitude packs a punch even on the less remarkable lyrics. Plus, he’s got some remarkable ones in him: the baleful “Nobody Wants To Be Lonely”, a moving account of visiting his friend in an old people’s home; “Lucky Day”, where he imagines settling down with the woman of his dreams after 70 itinerant years; and “Alligator Bait”, where he recounts the day his Grandad walked him down to the bayou for a nasty surprise. A MINUS

JPEGMAFIA: I LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU
Whether opting to slice and dice or “loop it and leave it”, Barrington Hendricks’s trash-compacted punk-rap gestalt still has the power to shock and delight despite its broad similarities to last year’s collab with Danny Brown. One difference to SCARING THE HOES is his upgraded flow; his cadence on “either on or off the drugs” could pass for Q-Tip. Another is a melodicism that earns him his RZA-shared Wendy Rene sample. Yet this is still somehow uglier. Screeching, bleeping, grunting, huffing, clanking, chugging, and snapping at enemies real or imaginary, his “vulgar display of power” may be straightforward but it’s still legitimate. Partly, that’s because he excels at crass provocation. Also, because he seems as intent on exorcising rage as celebrating it. Mostly, though, he’s just refining the art of throwing everything at the wall. It sticks. A MINUS

illuminati hotties: POWER
When it comes to producer/engineer Sarah Tudzin, sheer enjoyability of tone, feel, and flow is guaranteed. So the second most striking thing about her latest batch of songs is how unmistakably guitar-driven they are. Whatever studio tricks she has up her sleeve, their purpose is to goose her primary instrument without making a mess. The effect is that this is sturdier and steadier than Let Me Do One More, which isn’t to say she’s mellowed but still might disappoint anyone drawn to her manic tendencies. I’m happy with the change; at least she meant it when she finished the last record with “Growth” and book-ended this one with “Can’t Be Still” and “Everything Changes”. After all, there’s only so much pool hopping a woman in her early-thirties with a Grammy-validated rep to maintain can get away with. Especially once the love thing gets more complicated, as it has for this newlywed. That gives her new material to cover—knowing when to take the L, learning to enjoy sleeping in because your wife does, forgiving her when she tries to murder you in your sleep—alongside surviving life in the biz and the loss of a parent. All are juggling acts. All are handled with due care and intelligence. A MINUS

Odie Leigh: Carrier Pigeon
Detroit singer-songwriter elevates her foot-in-mouth verbiage with pop-oriented tunes but can’t quite shake her folkie fear of loud noises. * (“Already (On My Mind)” “Conversation Starter”)

Rema: HEIS
11 Afropop wake-up calls of surprising neatness, intricacy, and personality for their average 2½ minutes. ** (“MARCH AM” “HEHEHE”)

Omar Souleyman: Erbil
The latest in a long line of this 64-year-old exile’s squillion-BPM derivative of Syrian wedding music. Never gets old, never gets new. Simple to listen to, a pig to untangle. You know he’s got it right when you don’t feel the need to do the latter, which here is most of the time. ** (“Yal Harak Qalbe” “Rahat Al Chant Ymme”)

X: Smoke & Fiction
Rumour is they’re calling it a day, though re the title I wouldn’t be so sure. If they are, it’s not for want of ideas. Their riffs are still terse, their drums terser, their rockabilly flavourings more atavistic impulse than interpolation. John Doe and Exene Cervenka still have the magic touch for making bad voices sound terrific and haven’t lost their knack for getting from A to Z via you know what. If they’re not venturing anything new, sustaining the same energy 40 years later shouldn’t be sniffed at. Other than the striking image of a “big black X on a white marquee,” the lyrics are all forward-looking. “Memories are gettin late,” they wail, so “let’s go round the bend, get in trouble again.” And though neither you, me, or they want it to be over, “that’s just the way it is.” Be grateful it’s “sweet to the bitter end.” A MINUS