Kate Bush
Aerial (4.5 stars)
Even the most forgetful former grade-school slacker can probably conjure up 3.14 as the numeric approximation for the mathematical symbol pi. Music fans given to more exactness might enjoy a trip through Kate Bush's first album in 12 years, Aerial, specifically the second track of the sweeping two-disc set.
That's when the elusive British chanteuse lavishes vocal love all over pi, carrying it out 116 decimal places, as in "threeeeeeeee point onefouronefivenine" and so on.
Strange? You bet. But also strangely alluring coming from the lips of the mystical Bush, who could sing about doing laundry and make it sound important. Actually, she does just that on "Mrs. Bartolozzi," the mesmerizing centerpiece of disc one (A Sea of Honey).
Now 47, Bush sounds every bit as otherwordly as she did at 19, even if her approach is more Joni Mitchell than Sandy Denny at this stage. And to anyone wondering if a decade-plus off has dulled Bush's compositional and production skills, she offers up the panoramic, eight-part song cycle comprising disc two (A Sky of Honey).
Aerial veers toward the over-precious at points—chirping birds, children's voices and an homage to Bush's son ("Lovely, lovely, lovely, lovely Bertie")—so George Thorogood listeners should probably steer clear. But for those in search of wondrously original sounds, or just a quick math refresher, this could be your album of the year.
Madonna
Confessions on a Dance Floor (3 stars)
Madonna's Confessions on a Dance Floor follows 2003's flop American Life by retreating from social commentary and introspection (for the most part) in favor of a full-on return to the dance clubs, with beats and lyrics that recall the days of "Into the Groove."
New collaborator Stuart Price jettisons the processed guitars and electronica of Madonna's last three albums, instead embracing a more timeless disco sound that fits perfectly with the retro trends in pop these days. The songs even bleed together like a DJ set, with long intros and outros that make the album sound pre-remixed. While this is no doubt great for the dance floor, it sacrifices pop hooks and pop brevity, and becomes less memorable even than the much-maligned Life.
What it lacks in potential radio singles, though, Confessions makes up for in cohesion. Even her love of club kids can't save Madge from the dreary, kabbalah-inspired "Isaac," but it's clear she doesn't care if the ravers don't approve. "This is who I am/ You can like it or not," she sings on the album's final track, proving that, for all her endless reinvention, she really hasn't changed a bit.
Floetry
Flo'Ology (4 stars)
As it stands, the best arbiter of neo-soul—that uniquely American mixture of '70s soul, jazz and funk mixed with modern-day R&B (think Mint Condition and Tony Toni Tone in the early '90s, D'Angelo, Jill Scott and Musiq Soulchild this century)—is the London-based duo Floetry.
Marsha Ambrosius (the Songstress) and Natalie Stewart (the Floacist) launched the takeover in 2002 with Floetic, 16 tracks of sassy soul, with standouts such as "Getting Late," "Say Yes," "Headache" and "Butterfly," penned first for Michael Jackson.
The problems with hitting home runs with your first at-bat—ask Lauryn Hill—are all the Babe Ruthian expectations that come after.
Flo'Ology finds Ambrosius still as vocally seductive and Stewart as lyrically potent. But what it doesn't find is Floetic's same incandescence, its same Stella-got-her-groove-back energy. Several of the songs are interchangeable and the feeling that Floetry is the straw stirring neo-soul is missing.
But this is Floetry, ya'll, so the good far outweighs the bad. Best of the 11-track bunch are the Common-blessed "SupaStar," the intensely emotional "Closer" and "Blessed 2 Have," a near-perfect, Lauryn Hill-esqe blend of song and rap.