Modest Mouse
We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank
(3 1/2 stars)
Isaac Brock's trademark raw-larynx holler rings out as urgent as ever; his collective's brassy, piston-pumping rambles build and break like the waves that menace Dead's imperiled sailors (seems The Moon & Antarctica and Good News for People Who Love Bad News' barren landscapes and soot-covered highways—which bring down a faithful rust bucket here on "Dashboard"—eventually led to a time-warped ocean). Where past albums have broken down into jagged, sloppy caterwauls long before track 14, 15 or 16, Dead remains deceptively focused throughout. It's the band's most streamlined effort yet.
Despite the subject matter, when these indie-rock auteurs meet mope-rock royalty, it doesn't exactly equal The Decemberists. But it doesn't exactly equal a Modest Mouse-Smiths hybrid, either. Marr's contributions add a noticeable, fluctuating depth to the dark ruminations on alienation, anarchy and watery graves, yet there's nothing about Dead that indicates an '80s guitar hero lurks amongst the liner notes. If no Smiths reunion lies over the horizon, fine. But for Marr to simply bide his time with an Increasingly More Bombastic Mouse is a letdown. Ready the plank; someone oughta walk
– Julie Seabaugh
The Stooges
The Weirdness
(1 1/2 stars)
For years, the greatest debate surrounding the catalog of proto-punk gods The Stooges centered around which mix of Raw Power one preferred: Bowie, original or Iggy remix. No longer. Reunion LP The Weirdness raises a more significant issue: whether the band has managed to damage a legacy long considered well beyond reproach.
"Rock critics wouldn't like this at all," leader Iggy Pop sings near the start of opening track "Trollin'," and while he's right about that, he shouldn't fool himself into thinking Joe Stooges Fan will be able to overlook crap lyrics like "My dick is turning into a tree," "I wanna be your friend/To the bitter end," "Don't bullshit the bullshitter" and "My idea of fun/Is killing everyone," either. Seriously, yuck.
Grimace through the words, and you'll hear brothers Ron and Scott Asheton and new bassist Mike Watt stir up a joyously noisy headrush in spots, and saxophonist Steve MacKay revising his skronky Fun House role here and there. Mostly, though, a sound once divinely loose and free-spirited feels labored and plotted, making this edition of The Stooges not only less raw, but also far less powerful than the beloved original.
– Spencer Patterson
Ted Leo and the Pharmacists
Living with the Living
(3 1/2 stars)
As a follow-up to 2005's critically acclaimed Shake the Sheets, Ted Leo and The Pharmacists push the post-punk envelope by mixing in more straight-on pop and even a dash of Irish and reggae influences, but the Jersey boy's latest will draw Springsteen comparisons that dig deeper than their shared Garden State heritage and relentless touring schedules.
Leo's always been a politically conscious lyricist, and new songs like "Army Bound" and "C.I.A." certainly are a thumb in the eye of the Republican war machine. He saves his most brutal digs for the blitzkrieg chop "Bomb. Repeat. Bomb," in which he croons, "When the dying starts, you won't have to know a thing about who's dead."
But his sharpest moments come in the hook-heavy "Who Do You Love," bouncy punk anthems like "The World Stops Turning" and "The Sons of Cain" and the Pogues-inspired "A Bottle of Buckie," complete with Irish pipes to flesh out the atmosphere.
Sure, there's a bit of filler here—the 15 cuts and an hour of music could have been trimmed by 20 percent—but Leo's passion and commitment to sticking it to the Man in ever more interesting ways help him stand out from the indie-rock crowd.
– Patrick Donnelly
Joss Stone
Introducing Joss Stone
(3 stars)
In this inscrutable 21st century, when musical talent, obviously, is not required to obtain a record contract, Joss Stone has produced two albums and several live performances that stand out. But what, if anything, makes her memorable in this age?
Does her exceeding talent? Her voice, as potent and soulful (like Aretha's) as it is? Her skin, which, make no mistake about it, is white?
One thing for sure is that it won't be her new album, Introducing Joss Stone. Save for one stellar song which resonates for as long as it is played—"Tell Me What We're Gonna Do Now"—and a sighting of recluse Lauryn Hill on "Music," Stone's fresh batch of songs are solid but not unforgettable.
Her staples are there—that gospel voice, a belly-born timbre and some genuine lyrics—mixed in with her overt classic R&B influences, and it all tastes good, something like soul food. Yet, that one magical and unnameable ingredient which delivers even good albums from time and oblivion is missing, and that, for someone as gifted as Stone, is a disappointment. But still an album better than that of most of her coevals, who can't be forgotten soon enough.
– Joshua Longobardy
The Last Town Chorus
Wire Waltz
(3 stars)
Megan Hickey is really, really trying to break your heart, and her angelic voice and calculated pauses often get her pretty close to doing just that. Listening to her can be as soothing as a long hot bath on a snowy day, and songs like "You" and "Wintering in Brooklyn" make it clear that Hickey has the idea of melting snow on her mind. That cover of "Modern Love" you might have heard on Grey's Anatomy is spare and haunting.
The other thing about this album is that it's pretty timeless. Because this kind of sound is somehow considered indie now, critics are quick to compare Hickey to gals named Neko and Gillian. Imagine that these songs came out during the Lilith Fair '90s, though, and think about how apt comparisons to gals named Sarah or, dare we say it, Jewel would be. Okay, Neko and Gillian are probably a bit closer because the melodies aren't as obvious or overwhelming here. Many Last Town Chorus songs come close to hitting an elusive money note but pull back just in time to remind you that Hickey probably thinks it's unwise to waste all the warm water at once.
The defiant "It's Not Over" is about as close to throwing it all down at once that Hickey gets. She shows off the lap-steel guitar prowess that made at least one other critic weep, and her voice makes it clear this is a woman who won't let go, who won't quit. "It's not over until I say ... over," she says, and you know right then Hickey's just getting started.
– Andy Wang