Clap Your Hands Say Yeah got a hearty endorsement from pitchforkmedia.com, which—no matter what detractors may say about the site—generally means a nice sales spike for unknown bands. And this one couldn't be much less visible or more worthy of attention: The New York band self-released its self-titled debut, but labels are surely falling over each other now to get in on the action. Sloppy and endearing, the disc tucks the earnestness of early, weird Talking Heads into little clusters—sometimes disarmingly straightforward, sometimes disarmingly tangential—that should appeal to the masses who quickly hooked onto another Pitchfork-approved outfit, The Arcade Fire…
Speaking of The Arcade Fire, the band just re-released its seven-song, self-titled debut (Arcade Fire Music), much to the dismay of eBay sellers who'd been commanding serious cash for it since the Canadian group's Funeral blew up last year. It doesn't match the visceral beauty of the full-length, but it makes perfect sense as a precursor. Not every song is great, and Régine Chassagne sounds a little too much like Björk (particularly on "I'm Sleeping In A Submarine"), but the songs that presaged Funeral—especially the amazing "No Cars Go"—will please the album's devotees…
Tom Scharpling and Jon Wurster navigate a strange, almost old-fashioned comedic area, wherein one (Scharpling) plays the straight man, while the other gets the silly yuks. Their arena is Scharpling's radio show on WFMU; Wurster calls in (or Scharpling sets him up as a guest), and his stories get more and more outlandish and funny over time. The duo's Rock, Rot & Rule is tough to top, but with Hippy Justice (Stereolaffs), they get close: The best of these six, which are spread out over two discs, is "Rock 'N' Roll Car Dealership," in which Scharpling and Wurster concoct an amazing commercial for Gene Simmons Toyota, a New Jersey business supposedly opened by the KISS man. Wurster plays manager Chet Thompson, whose tangents go far beyond a heavy-metal Toyota-thon and tales of his boss' lechery. Visit stereolaffs.com for info on the duo's hilarious series…
Quoting press releases is rarely a good idea, but in the case of the new Brian Jonestown Massacre EP, it's a must: "Anton Newcombe is NOT A MOVIE!" it reads, referring to Dig!, the documentary about the songwriter's volatile nature and supposed genius. Translate that quote, and it might read: "Anton Newcombe's music is more important than his personality!"—a statement that, unfortunately, isn't true often enough. For his band's first post-Dig! set of new music, We Are The Radio (Tee Pee), Newcombe mostly disappears into TBJM's drudge mode, trying to catch a psych-rock groove, but often mistaking plodding for bliss. Inessential…
Grand Buffet are two funny white rappers who might like to be taken seriously. This year, they'll tour with both Sage Francis and Magnolia Electric Co., and they'll likely confuse audiences in both cases. Five Years Of Fireworks (Fighting Records) offers a 13-track catch-up lesson, touching on the best moments from a series of barely released discs. Stupid, smart, and sharp, the songs smack, Beastie Boys-like, at pop culture, only much weirder, and with tongues way up in cheeks. "Matt And Nate" references slowcore, Ayn Rand, and Umbros. And there's a bonus DVD of silliness, too…
Bob Dylan is an iconic songwriter, but his fruits aren't necessarily spoiled when plucked by other performers. In fact, the opposite is often true: The Byrds practically made a career out of making Dylan's compositions their own, and it'd be tough to argue that Jimi Hendrix's "All Along The Watchtower" is any less compelling than Dylan's. So what happens when a bunch of young emo types try to tackle Dylan's world-weary wisdom? Listen To Bob Dylan: A Tribute (Drive-Thru) is what happens, two full discs' worth. Not surprisingly, lots of these bands suck some soul out of their choices: Steel Train murders "Don't Think Twice (It's Alright)," though, in fairness, nobody's done that one quite right. Dave Melillo turns "It Ain't Me Babe" into overwrought modern pop, and The Stay At Home Joneses offer a lifeless, stripped-down "The Times They Are A-Changin'." But the set contains a few surprisingly decent stabs: RX Bandits surprisingly seem to get "The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll," and Rock 'N' Roll Soldiers have fun with "Rainy Day Women #12 & 35."