The Flaming Lips
At War With the Mystics (2.5 stars)
I've never liked the Flaming Lips as much as I guess I'm supposed to. Not that Wayne Coyne's alterna-rock warhorse hasn't earned my admiration for being one of America's most original and durable outfits. But strip away that respect factor and I'm left with music that sounds far better in theory than it ever does in practice.
From 1997's quadrophonic experiment Zaireeka to 1999's symphonically layered The Soft Bulletin to 2002's dalliance with electronica Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, the Lips' recent concepts always seem to outperform their actual songs. And that doesn't bode well for At War With the Mystics, the band's first collection of tunes not to feature one obvious, overriding connector since the mid-'90s.
The title suggests a possible antiwar theme, and initially that appears to be the case. The leadoff "Yeah Yeah Yeah Song" juxtaposes giddy harmonics against tense, politicized lyrics ("If you could blow up the world with the flick of a switch, would you do it?/If you could make everybody poor just so you could be rich, would you do it?), while the T. Rexian "Free Radicals" calls out a should-be revolutionary for "turning into a poor man's Donald Trump."
From there, though, the album loses focus and edge, zigzagging from the forced orchestration of "My Cosmic Autumn Rebellion" to the repetitive funk of "The W.A.N.D." to the weirdo experimentalism of "The Wizard Turns On ..." Toss in the annoying siren backing "Mr. Ambulance Driver," a coughing fit midway through "You Haven't Got a Clue" and the all-too-obvious Pink Floyd homage that is "Pompeii Am Gotterdammerung" and you've got a concoction as dizzying as it is disconnected.
Most reviewers will probably proclaim At War With the Mystics a modest drop-off from dazzling past efforts, but I'm calling Emperor's New Clothes on the Flaming Lips, once and for all. Their sound is erratic, not epic. Coyne's voice is weak, not fragile. And while far from a bad band, the Lips don't consistently bring enough of anything consequential to the table to deserve the seat of honor they've been afforded this long.
Ghostface Killah
Fishscale (4.5 stars)
The way they dominated rap in the mid-'90s, no one figured the nine-member Wu-Tang Clan (Witty Unpredictable Talent And Natural Game) would become has-beens, or that Ghostface Killah (Dennis Coles), neither the most animated Wu-dude (the deceased Ol' Dirty Bastard) nor the most charismatic (Method Man) would be the only link to glory for the martial arts-influenced collective from Staten Island.
But as the Wu fizzled—Ol' Dirty's frequent incarceration; RZA losing his production mojo; Meth's acting career; fringe members selling poorly—Ghostface sizzled, dropping 2000's Supreme Clientele and 2001's Pretty Toney Album, A-minus efforts hearkening to the height of the Wu-ocracy in 1995 (the year of GZA's Liquid Swords and Raekwon's Only Built 4 Cuban Linx).
With Fishscale, it's time to start including Ghost in those greatest-rapper-of-the-generation debates. The album smorgasbords all the elements that have made the high-pitched narrator/collaborator of gems like "Cherchez LaGhost" and "Incarcerated Scarfaces" listenable and consistent: South Park-type humor, a novelist's aplomb with crime stories, the ability to rhyme about nothing and make it sound good.
So RZA-like is the production of in-the-zone beatsmith MF Doom and the reliable Just Blaze that Fishscale sounds as ethereal as classic Wu, giving Ghost the unpredictable soundscapes he loves. It all comes together on the album's best track, "The Champ": "Choke a fat nigga out like in 40 seconds/my gun get hard, .45 steel erection/eagle on kangol hat slanted coconut bounce to Morocco/guerilla medallions like Flavor Flav clock yo/niggas want me dead but they scared to step to me/rip they guts out like a hysterectomy."
"Whip You with a Strap," which celebrates corporal punishment, is vintage Ghost, and "9 Milli Bros," complete with a verse from Ol Dirty, glimpses the Wu's talent as a posse. The abundance of skits keep Fishscale from classic status. At the end of the Pop Tart-y breakup song "Back Like That"—which seems out of place on such a grimy CD—Ghost boasts of having his "swagger back." Indeed he does.
Carl Cox
Second Sign (4.5 stars)
There aren't many entire albums I've got on my work computer, home laptop and iPod. Goldfrapp's recent Supernature is one. Supertramp's Breakfast in America is another (hey, I'm friggin' old, okay?). And now Carl Cox's Second Sign is the third (and coincidentally only the third of Cox's career).
Part of Britain's dance scene since the late '70s, Cox is regularly listed as one of the top DJs in the world and pioneered the use of three decks for mixing back in 1989.
Every track here feels like an anthem; it's that good. A living legend, he's able to bring in some serious talent on Second Sign, producers such as Fatboy Slim, Misstress Barbara, Josh Wink and Roni Size. Lending their talents on vocals are new talent Hannah Robinson, Onalee from Reprazent and Saffron from ex-Republica.
Unlike his kick-ass, hard-techno live sets, Second Sign brings together a mix of genres, reflecting Cox's own musical voyage: drum and bass, techno, tech-house and even funk and jazz all make appearances.
The standout track, "Give Me Your Love," with Robinson, is guaranteed to sweep the clubs this summer, but every second here deserves to be played and played again.
Atreyu
A Death-Grip on Yesterday (2.5 stars)
With so many of their emo and hard-core peers smoothing out the rough edges of their sounds to become more radio- and MTV-friendly, it's refreshing at first to hear Atreyu sticking to their heavy metal-style riffs and vocal screams from singer Alex Varkatzas. Then again, the band has enlisted mainstream hard-rock master Josh Abraham (Korn, Staind) to produce, and drummer Brandon Saller provides clean, melodic vocal lines for every one of Varkatzas' tortured yelps. The result is heavier and truer to its roots than the new Hawthorne Heights album, but just as safe and ultimately uninteresting.
Guitarists Dan Jacobs and Travis Miguel take some cues from modern European metal with their harmonized leads and tight riffs, but they're often in service of completely interchangeable Warped Tour, assembly-line songs. Tracks like "Shameful" would be right at home on the radio alongside Fall Out Boy, and their catchy poppiness only makes all the screaming sound more out of place.