By Rob van Alstyne
By Zach McCormick
By Emily Eveland
By Jack Spencer
By Michael Madden
By Reed Fischer
By Emily Weiss
By Emily Weiss
These San Franciscoans have an effortless way of making sno-fi indie-pop sound like a game of melodic tug-of-war, Diane Anastasio's drums quick-thumping like UZI bursts over here, then Jess Scott's guitars flailing around like a rusty saber slashing at imaginary scrub brush over there, with only Michelle Hall's near-inaudible bass acting as an anchoring force. Better—and more alive—than Vivian Girls.
Nothing screams "you will know the full extent of my societal impotence" quite like a larynx-bruising hairball of rancid punk-metal, which is what these Missouri ne'er-do-wells serve up here in lock-step grind until they finally exhale, coughing up blues licks. If this kind of fury is your bag—and we admit that it's ours, these days—you might consider uploading free online comp The Mary Jane in Music to your skull-emblazoned iPod, because it packs two solid hours of desperate, disparate yawrl.
"Leaves Eclipse the Light"
Long, swarthy shadows overlap and deepen one another, but what's interesting is that they don't inspire dread; they're comforting in a gloomy way, like raw bolts of indigo silk one can snatch from the ether and burrow under whenever the outside world becomes too bothersome to acknowledge.
Nicki Minaj feat. Jadakiss & Teena Marie
Nicki: "Fucks with who?/Fucks with you, as long as those checks clear like Huxtables." Jada: "Your boy been nice since Thundercats/Since leather bombers and lumberjacks." They're having more fun here than C-listers with their Q-ratings have any right to have—and they oughta be embarrassed about how these references date them—but who cares?
Laptop-happy Floridian duo gets its Kid A/Amnesiac fanaticism all jumbled up with respective joneses for Pete Yorn's "For Nancy" and maudlin Beach Boys co-harmonies, will unknowingly soundtrack countless ritual sacrifices this summer.