I seem to have rotten luck today; this is beyond awful. It doesn’t undermine all of Butler’s brilliant records as head of the Psychedelic Furs– they knew exactly how to tear apart the sentimental, the maudlin, the mediocre; they thrived on it. For Butler to become what he once hated is depressing, but it’s only a footnote.

Eventually you wonder just who is being punished here. The listener? The original authors of these songs? The band?

The first time around I would have said, yeah, it’s the band; late one night bossanova covers of new wave songs sound like a good idea, then suddenly it’s too late to back out. The poor things. But they made another record– and this one’s mostly awful rather than mostly forgettable. They don’t ruin the Buzzcocks’ “Ever Fallen In Love”, for what that’s worth.

Cuppa Joe - “Bottlerocket” (mp3)

Another song I’ve sung along with for years despite having no idea what it’s about. The eerie image of a single policeman by the side of the highway as a mis-aimed firework makes it easier to assume that the preachy-sounding lines refer to some concrete narrative situation, but as for what that is…

This came out on a record called Nurture in 1994. 1994! I would’ve guessed it was about ten years earlier and from Athens, GA.

[I've rotated out most of the old mp3s, as I occasionally do. If there's one whose absence ruins your day, let me know and I will put it back.]

Even though her first record came out in 1999, Heather Duby has always come off like her real dream was to be a third-string “women rock!” alternative radio voice circa 1995, with her dipping her toe into electronic music out of convenience. On the other hand, that particular marriage has been convenient pretty much constantly since car ads became a hip vessel for new music, and it’s unclear whose aesthetic purity that might have harmed– maybe the carmakers’?

Anyway, she’s still livin’ that dream. One or two of these songs still sounded interesting the second time I heard them.

The delicate use of acoustic guitar with spoken non-sequiturs from what sound like old radio plays makes this scream “THE BOOKS THE BOOKS THE BOOKS”. Yet I am skeptical, perversely, because “The Wind Up Bird” begins with a sample of an old man declaring “the books have nothing to say!” If the influence of the Books on these folky British laptop-tinkerers were as huge as it seems, would they really have taken the potshot? (Scandal!)

(But come to think of it, would the Books consider ‘nothing to say’ an insult?)

Unlike the Books, Tunng vocalize neither infrequently nor as an afterthought, mostly in that way perpetually compared to traditional British folk music. I can’t vouch for the resemblance and don’t give most music-press self-reinforcement much credit, but Comments does conjure pleasant images of haystacks in between the verbal drop-ins and skittery noises. Usually beautiful, and not even as unthreatening as it first seems. [Out May 22 in the UK.]

Herbert’s microcollaged electronica sounds more accessible with each record, though in this case it took me a minute to see why: not the vocals or melodies, which are hardly new features, but the increased ability for listeners to tell songs apart. Almost like pop music!

Squelchy clicky polyrhythms make a fine base for Real Goddamn Songs, as it turns out, but Dani Siciliano’s singing continues to sand down ragged edges more than I’d like. More than you’d think someone as conceptually spiky as Herbert would like, too. Probably the best part is first track “Something Isn’t Right”, with its male guest vocalist; still, almost none of this can enter my ears without provoking the thought that we’d have a better world if Matthew Herbert produced everybody at least once. He got a nice start last year with Roisin Murphy’s gorgeous Ruby Blue– if it didn’t take so long to sample the clucks of 15,000 chickens, or whatever Herbert plans to make his next record out of, we might make some real progress.

[Out later this year, possibly on May 30. Ruby Blue finally sees American release tomorrow.]

Would someone get El-P a day job already? His beats drain energy from seven of the eight songs he worked on here; small consolation that the eighth (”The Fries”) sounds genuinely novel or that his one guest verse as a rapper doesn’t suck.

Anyway, you get what you get. Lif himself produced “Washitup” with trademark syncopated grace, never mind that it’s an entire song about whether or not you need to shower before hooking up with someone. (Answer: it depends.) The one perfect track– what this whole record should’ve been– is “Murs Iz My Manager”, in which Mr. Lif trades comic verses with indie-rap icon Murs, here playing a fame-game fixer so skilled that he has everyone from Jay-Z to Al Gore begging Lif to help them out.

Seriously, Akrobatik’s one-line cameo does more for the album than El-P does. It’s embarrassing. [Out June 13.]

Miles Dethmuffen - “Mouth Of Hell”
Miles Dethmuffen - “Painting The Bridge” (mp3)

Both sides of a 1991 seven-inch by Ad Frank’s old group, who apparently had a lot of trouble with people thinking they were a metal band. Most of the Miles Dethmuffen songs sung by Linda Bean P bored me until I heard Ad sing one of them (”Johnny Marr”) and realized Ad is, perhaps, the only person who can sing an Ad Frank song. The few tracks where they alternated, though, always grabbed me, and every so often, like on “Mouth Of Hell”, Linda pulled it off.

[Ad's label, Stop, Pop & Roll have gotten stingy with mp3s, but by liberal use of the 'skip' button on their mini-radio gadget, you can hear several of his songs. And if you haven't, you should.]

Emails or comments about problems with the new site will be quite welcome.

As you (might) guess from the title, melds dead-horse rap tropes with cut-up digital stuttering. The same concept animated tracks like Machine Drum’s “Yo What Uh Yek”, but that was an IDM record and this, ultimately, is hip-hop, with ass-tapping and -shaking and all that.

Mostly lives and dies on the excellent production, though if the way Spank leaves absolutely zero space between adjoining words is happening on the mic rather than in ProTools, that’s impressive. Other than that, the flow’s just okay; had Young MC spent the 15 years since “Bust A Move” trapped inside a digital answering machine, he might sound like this now. You know, like in Gremlins 2. [Out April 18.]
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