senescence

Amps For Christ - The People at Large (2004)

Good-sized chunk of flittering fluttering blipping bleeping Bastardized folk. The fully-formed songs are great, the Indian instrument noodling is tolerable, the powerviolence is muffled, the noise is fun, the insect chirps are synthesized, the Old Lang Syne variants strike a nerve. The spoken word poetry, however, is better off left in the liner notes. 6.5/10

Death Grips - Exmilitary (2010)

Compelling pundits to redefine the parameters of hip-hop, this is possessed rambunctiousness that's both vile and worth reading into. Enough electronic-bass-blare and technical drumming to demolish buildings and attract partiers while copious glitchy scramblings and frenzied shouting get 'em running for the door and make the rubble worth cherishing. If the samplings of Black Flag/Bad Brains/Charles Manson are inklings toward their corybantic disposition, maybe the Castaways/Pet Shop Boys ones expose their sense of humor. As for Pink Floyd, perhaps they just needed a viable guitar line. And really -- who needs some superstar guest-spot when you've got Mexican Girl? 7/10

f(x) - 4 Walls (2015)

At the risk of coming across as dat dood who thinks Asian girl-groups yield a sort of inimitable and peregrine glee, this album is at least a partly-potent portrayal of such a postulation. Like anywhere else, the blatantly candied club-hypers can overwhelm with their rambunctious sprightliness; but more endearing than most are the quirkified bubbly-bustle pop-tronic beats, the sporadic rap-chops, the personas that can go from the stupidly-cute ad-worthy lure of "Glitter" to flagrant cash-snubbers who possess "swagger like Jagger" to the wistful Carly Rae-reject ender of "When I'm Alone". Submission to English is primarily used to safeguard and optimize the approachability of their catchy hook-splendor, though the more-disputables are likely fated to be misconstrued by goofball 'Merican ears as "show me the asshole." 6.5/10

Kevin Gates - Luca Brasi 2 (2014)

His idea of funny is kickin' a bitch out the car, mine is his hook about likin' bitches thugged out in between baby 'waahh's and mud grunts. That mix of all-too-honest gravelly street grit and willingness to get 'in his feelings' is the gleaming strength here - we get an unforgiving world of constant grind&hustle, sobering prison tale excerpts, packages going across the water, and betrayal-a-plenty; but he also can have a good cry/ex reminiscence to a Drake song and drown in the syrup a paranoid mess. His knack for catchiness ultimately culminates with the semi-miraculous "Wassup With It" - maybe the best ballad for a good ol' fashioned no-strings fuck since Biggie & R.Kelly decided to skip on the Cristal. 8/10

Goldfinger - Goldfinger (1996)

For mid-90's gloss-punk, competent and consistent: catchiness is all-too-effortless and there's no need to rely on the singles. When ska comes 'round it's congenial and complementary, and they even throw in a thrashin' L.A.-grouser/bandname-dropper/fuck-tallier. True to genre-era-customs, some infantilism pervades, but has the decency to mostly lie dormant till the filler-ish second half -- a shower is lamented, a prank call is made, a cat gets cussed out -- yet somehow, someway, considerable highlight "Mable" has the power to persevere through a faux-English-accent "she's the bomb" hook (the last of which is actually followed by an explosion) and a package comparison (tube of cookie dough vs. small pencil with broken lead). 7/10

Lack of Interest - Trapped Inside (1999)

Wad of compressed+curtailed drill-sergeant-grunt hardcore, moments that really break away from the flatly breakneck bark blur tend to be - gasp - the change-ups, like the here-and-there struck high strings and pick scrapes and slowdowns. When a song title is identifiable that's nice too ("My Life / my life", "What's up / what's up"). Serving as a mid-way marker is the true highlight; a sustained one-note eye-bulge bellow of vigor and hilarity. 6/10

Len - You Can't Stop the Bum Rush (1999)

Their 'peace, man' positivity 'vibes' can be pukeworthy, the rhymes are stuck usually somewhere around 1987, the maturity level in the vicinity of an 11th grader, chunks of stale live-show hype-up are too often used for filler; but sugar-coated female vox 4e, and I do enjoy their brand of sunny light-heartedness and wide diversity in dispensing it: stoner-chatter-inflected summer wonder single, scratchy hip-hop, video game-ish synth pop jams, Kraftwerk homage, "Hot Rod Monster Jam" (the name fits), play-around punk. They save the big stuff for the last three and muck up most of it - check the delightfully floaty arrangement in - sigh - "Big Meanie", only to hear the lyrics ("It's been so crazy, too bad / And a shame, so sickening and lame / A shitty motherfucking pain"), which is followed by the Moon Safari-quality "Junebug", which makes up for it. Then it all somehow ends with a soul choir. 6/10

Lil Wayne - Tha Carter III (2008)

It's got the kind of budget that allows him to appear as a doctor, a martian, a political Robin Thicke collaborator, and a cop seducer back-to-back, and then there's also T-Pain and Babyface and "Lollipop". But it's also got ridiculous rhymes (too many good ones to quote an example) over primordial beats, absurd personality aplenty, a blunt-laced political collaboration with himself, and "Pussy Monster". A Jumbled Commercial Package it may be, but the benefits are reaped, and little is done to lull "the best rapper alive" - his words, not mine. 8/10

Pantera - The Great Southern Trendkill (1996)

An improvement over Far Beyond Driven in that it swaps out some of the sluggish dragger despondence for riotous thrash-against-the-media vehemence. The dirges are a bit tighter and less self-serving, the bipolar duel of "Suicide Note"'s is preferable to the shock-value depravity of "Good Friends and a Bottle of Pills" any day, the screaming is Seth Putnam-assisted, and "Drag the Waters" may be their groove-pinnacle. Questionable Phil-drivel still abounds - he confirms his cock is getting hard and there's something about "a nazi gangster jew", but then there's the show-stopper show-portrayal "The Underground in America"; which while painting a mosh-pit-scene as a picturesque utopia/disease-infested drug-hole and calling out phony punks, might kinda hint towards some form of unity: "Lesbian love is accepted and right / Shaved heads meet hair in the mix / Blending the 80s and 90s with hate". Hey, it's a start. 7/10

Savage Garden - Savage Garden (1997)

If fluorescent-bulb lighting being reflected off the just-buffed linoleum floor of a major-chain supermarket aisle was in the form of a song, it would be "Truly Madly Deeply" -- but that's the easiest jab this album offers, really it's not all so bad -- "I Want You" on the other hand is a kinda-quirky smash single that's not nauseating, they can drive a beat home if they want to, they're somewhat vocally equipped. But jeez, they do make it difficult -- between the front-loading, being unable to find a safe-sound-slot that's not sappy or strained, the Spanish guitar, cheap wah-wah effects and orchestral hits, there's stinky pseudo-romantic cheese: "Your kisses are like pearls / So different and so rare", "Feel my caress so soft and gentle / So delicate you cry for more", I won't go on. How about these sincere+descriptive "Santa Monica" excerpts?: "All the people got modern names like Jake or Mandy / and modern bodies too", "You'll have to dodge those inline skaters / or they'll knock you down". ~*~meh~*~