The Songs We Can't Escape



"The Unforgiven III"

"How can I be lost, when I've got nowhere to go?" James Hetfield asks, inadvertently summarizing the creative quagmire his band's stuck in. A more interesting question: Will Stone Temple Pilots sic copyright lawyers on Lars & Co. for swiping some melodic melancholy from "Creep"?

"What Movement Helps You When You Are Trying to Run Out a Batsmen?"

While reading these Richard Brautigan-story-length song titles from The Young Cricketer aloud is great fun, the out-jazz here is equally exhilarating. "Movement" sounds as though Corsano—having woken up encased in a glass house with nothing more than a full drum kit and a pair of triangle wands—opted to make lemons into lemonade.

"Blue Ridge Mountains"

Oh, Seattle. I love you, but you're bringing me down. Paul Weller claims that this reheated '70s folk hash "sounds fresh"; too many deluded Pazz & Jop voters agree for comfort. Caught their act on Saturday Night Live: The Grohl-lookin' lead singer was hobo chic, and my wife wondered, rightly, how long it'd been since any of these dudes shampooed.

"Solo Renegade 7"

Like fellow noisers Gerritt and Aaron Dilloway, Shiflet can be overly collaboration-happy. Thus, it's nice to find him doing his own SimEarth thing here: threading fallow expanses of peeved electronic terrain with suddenly plunging radio-silent ravines.

"Alive & Vibrant"

I get the impression that Mssr. Waxx spends so much time with his copies of Three Feet High & Rising and Midnight Marauders that he's forced to replace them annually. There's nothing inherently wrong with this sort of good-vibes posi-rap, but it feels hella outta place in 2009, nahwutimean?