Ben Weasel And His Iron String Quartet – These Ones Are Bitter

Ben Weasel is a prolific writer- both of song and word- having churned out more than a dozen albums as both a solo artist, and as front man of iconic Chicago punks Screeching Weasel and its more poppy counterpart, The Riverdales. Since the demise of his more group oriented work, he’s continued writing books and columns and the like, fading slightly from the spotlight but never quite disappearing from it. It’s been some 5 years since Ben wrote and released material under his own name, but the lingering tone and seemingly undying appeal of SW meant he never really went away (what, with all the constant reformation gossip simmering beneath). So while Screeching Weasel remains dormant for however long, Ben has once again embarked on a solo effort that still has an ear for the Ramones style of things, but also recaptures the bratty, high-energy, melodic appeal of Screeching Weasel’s best moments.

It’s no secret that it was rather slim pickings for SW after 1996’s Bark Like a Dog– Weasel and company seemed that just run out of collective steam after that. And while his 2002 solo release, Fidatevi, hinted at a return to form, it was merely a dash of his brilliant, simple songwriting. So it’s great to hear that the last 5 years have been good for Ben and his guitar- after a short excursion to write another Riverdales album- he returns with his Iron String Quartet to release These Ones Are Bitter; the best Screeching Weasel album the band never wrote. It’s a full head of steam, highly charged romp through pop-punk’s finest qualities, and it’s a real joy to just sit here and listen to these tunes. From the opening salvo of “Let Freedom Ring” to the “Speed of Mutation”-sounding chorus of “In A Few Days,” it is clear that Weasel has re-found his touch, ultimately writing some of the best songs of his career.

It has all the noted Weaselisms spattered through the release; the piano Anthem For A New Tomorrow-era keyboards of “Blue is the Ocean,” to the ‘1-2-3-4s’ of  “Happy Saturday,” all of which sounds very concise wrapped in the trademark fuzzy distortion of Ben’s riffs, the occasional overlapping solo, and a pretty tight backing band- which consists of names from Alkaline Trio and the All-American Rejects. To boot, the continuation of all the themes and topics he’s written about over the past 20 years litter much of the lyrics- “Jeanette,” I’m sure, has been mentioned before (or was that Janelle? Joanie? Or Jeannie?), and Ben’s springy step must have something to do with the tone of songs like “The First Day of Spring,” (a continuation perhaps of “The First Day of Summer”?) and “Summer’s Always Gone Too Soon,” an ongoing ode to things more cheery. And while he may never write another “Guest List,” there really isn’t a misstep amongst the bunch.

These Ones Are Bitter is what good pop-punk should sound like. It seems difficult these days for traditional pop-punk bands to make a name for themselves- truth be told, it isn’t the easiest genre to sell. And perhaps a good reason why Ben’s own Mendota Recordings is handling TOAB as a digital-only venture. But after listening to the record a good few times over, it’s clear to see that while the music won’t break down doors, or sell a bunch of records outside the old Lookout crowd, its an infinitely more rewarding listen, and pop-punk fans may have just found their saving grace. To slightly modify lyrics from a tune familiar with the Weasel lore, it is perhaps the best note one can hope to leave this on; “He don’t like Nirvana / I know he don’t like Prong / But it’s great to hear he again write great song.”

(Mendota Records)

Review: Ben Weasel and His Iron String Quartet – These Ones Are Bitter

Ben Weasel is a prolific writer- both of song and word- having churned out more than a dozen albums as both a solo artist, and as front man of iconic Chicago punks Screeching Weasel and its more poppy counterpart, The Riverdales. Since the demise of his more group oriented work, he’s continued writing books and columns and the like, fading slightly from the spotlight but never quite disappearing from it. It’s been some 5 years since Ben wrote and released material under his own name, but the lingering tone and seemingly undying appeal of SW meant he never really went away (what, with all the constant reformation gossip simmering beneath). So while Screeching Weasel remains dormant for however long, Ben has once again embarked on a solo effort that once again has an ear on the Ramones side of things, but also recaptures the bratty, high-energy, melodic appeal of Screeching Weasel’s best moments.

It’s no secret that it was rather slim pickings for SW after 1996’s Bark Like a Dog– Weasel and company seemed that just run out of collective steam after that. And while his 2002 solo release, Fidatevi, hinted at a return to form, it was merely a dash of his brilliant, simple songwriting. So it’s great to hear that the last 5 years have been good for Ben and his guitar- after a short excursion to write another Riverdales album- he returns with his Iron String Quartet to release These Ones Are Bitter; the best Screeching Weasel album the band never wrote. It’s a full head of steam, highly charged romp through pop-punk’s finest qualities, and it’s a real joy to just sit here and listen to these tunes. From the opening salvo of “Let Freedom Ring” to the “Speed of Mutation”-sounding chorus of “In A Few Days,” it is clear that Weasel has re-found his touch, ultimately writing some of the best songs of his career.

It has all the noted Weaselisms spattered through the release; the piano Anthem For A New Tomorrow-era keyboards of “Blue is the Ocean,” to the ‘1-2-3-4s’ of “Happy Saturday,” all of which sounds very concise wrapped in the trademark fuzzy distortion of Ben’s riffs, the occasional overlapping solo, and a pretty tight backing band- which consists of names from Alkaline Trio and the All-American Rejects. To boot, the continuation of all the themes and topics he’s written about over the past 20 years litter much of the lyrics- “Jeanette,” I’m sure, has been mentioned before (or was that Janelle? Joanie? Or Jeannie?), and Ben’s springy step must have something to do with the tone of songs like “The First Day of Spring,” (a continuation perhaps of “The First Day of Summer”?) and “Summer’s Always Gone Too Soon,” an ongoing ode to things more cheery. And while he may never write another “Guest List,” there really isn’t a misstep amongst the bunch.

These Ones Are Bitter is what good pop-punk should sound like. It seems difficult these days for traditional pop-punk bands to make a name for themselves- truth be told, it isn’t the easiest genre to sell. And perhaps a good reason why Ben’s own Mendota Recordings is handling TOAB as a digital-only venture. But after listening to the record a good few times over, it’s clear to see that while the music won’t break down doors, or sell a bunch of records outside the old Lookout crowd, its an infinitely more rewarding listen, and pop-punk fans may have just found their saving grace. To slightly modify lyrics from a tune familiar with the Weasel lore, it is perhaps the best note one can hope to leave this on; “He don’t like Nirvana / I know he don’t like Prong / But it’s great to hear he again write great song.” (Mendota)

They Might Be Giants – The Else

With the release of The Else, it is beginning to sink in for me that They Might Be Giants have been doing this for a long time. Considering their core fan base of nerdy boys, it would be easy for TMBG to stick with the pattern that initially made them famous and ride it from now ‘til the nerds die out (and I plan on sticking around for a bit). But I admire them because they have never been content to remain stuck in a particular pigeonhole—instead they would probably write a song about the pigeonhole that is alternately painstakingly literal and mindbogglingly absurd, and then move on.

Unfortunately, the Johns’ efforts to push themselves have not always yielded critical accolades, though they have usually yielded rabid fan support. Apollo 18 was widely panned at the time (“they stopped playing those funny electronic instruments”), but is a perennial fan favorite now, not least of all for the Residents-inspire “fingertip songs”—distillations of the pop song down to its bare essentials, or about 15 seconds. More recently, TMBG has explored children’s music (No!, Here Come the ABCs), have pushed the limits of what can be considered an album (the download only Long Tall Weekend), and challenged themselves to a venue-specific songwriting contest—against themselves (Venue Songs).

Which brings us about up to date (ignoring major discographical holes in my chronology). The Else finds John and John experimenting in two ways, apparently no longer content to go out on a limb just once per album anymore. First of all, they have brought in the Dust Brothers as producers. E.Z. Mike and King Gizmo are not the first names that spring to mind as potential TMBG producers, which is quite likely why the band hired them in the first place. Second, the band has undertaken a Soderberghian experiment in release dates. As of this writing, The Else has already technically been released via iTunes, where it reached #1 on the alternative charts within the first day. However, the physical disk—not entirely unlike the one I hold in my hands at this moment—is not scheduled for release until July 10th. I will have to wait patiently to see how this second experiment pans out. As for sticking DB behind the boards, I can check that out right now.

There is certainly something funkier about They Might Be Giants. The distorted drum machine on “I’m Impressed,” or the funky fuzz bass on “Take Out the Trash,” does sound more Odelay than Lincoln. Somehow, if only for a few moments at a time, They Might Be Giants could be mistaken for a “normal” band on The Else. Of course, they just might be making fun of “normal” bands. How else could a banal phrase like “Girl, come on take out the trash” become the rousing refrain of a good old-fashioned rave up? Because it is a sharper metaphor than most “normal” bands could come create.

The band hasn’t changed greatly since The Spine. The touch of the Dust Brothers is fairly evident, but TMBG is still rocking the sound of a full band, and they are probably still the smartest guys in popular music – though “popular” is always a stretch for They Might Be Giants. Where the band has made the most strides is in their lyrical subject matter. They are more literal (though not entirely, of course). On The Else, the a lot of TMBG’s material is found in popular music itself, taking the norm and skewing it, like on “The Cap’m,” which begins as a bluntly realistic love song. “Do you think there’s somebody out there / Somebody else who’s better than the one you’ve got? / Well, there’s not.” Then it veers into the realm of the absurd, ground frequently tread by the band.

What is most surprising about The Else is how close it comes to sincerity, often nearly touching the heartstrings before yanking away, as on “With the Dark.” “She’s in love with her broken heart / She’s in love with the dark,” they begin. Then, as though afraid of how close they have come to normal, punchy horns break up the pastoral ambiance of the opening stanza and “el otro Juan” breaks in “I’m getting tired of all my nautical dreams / I’m getting tired of all my nautical dreams.” Now the song is about a pirate. For this verse, anyway. Of course, there is fair time spent in familiar territory, like “Shadow Government” which is about exactly what it sounds like – or rather, is about “Where’s the shadow government when you need it?” This is They Might Be Giants, however, which means that there has been more thought put into their lyrics than I have the time to exposit at the moment (I trust most of you remember “Birdhouse in Your Soul”).

The Else is at least the most consistent album that They Might Be Giants have released yet. There is not a song that does not delight musically, lyrically, or holistically. The Johns’ witty wordplay also ensures good replay value, as the gamers say, and the Dust Brother’s production – in collaboration with Patrick Dillett – fleshes out the band’s sound like never before. I suppose The Elsemay just be a sign of They Might Be Giants maturing a bit. But, thankfully, only a bit.

(Zoe Records)

The White Stripes – Icky Thump

If you, Sound the Sirens reader, have clicked on the link to this review, I assume you are well familiar with The White Stripes, their story, and their unlikely return after Jack White spent the better part of the last year marauding the world with his super group The Raconteurs. What you probably don’t know, at least haven’t entirely discovered yet, is how great their new album, Icky Thump is. It recalls the cold-cocked Delta blues of their first four albums, yet also shares the experimental noodling of Get Behind Me Satan. In fact, most of the songs on Icky Thump could have been on any of the band’s old albums. 

While for some bands the notion of their new songs sounding like they came from the band’s old albums could be damning, for the White Stripes, it is an intended career move. For the most part, the band shuns the idea that there should be album-to-album growth, since most of the time that leads to terrible self-absorption, and a desire to try things like adding synthesizers in order to go for some kind of mystical musical “depth.” (You need to look no further than the last third of the last Strokes record to see this.) For the Stripes, the closer their new songs sound to their first album the better. To this end, great tracks like “Little Cream Soda,” “Catch Hell Blues,” “300 M.P.H. Torrential Outpour Blues,” “Bone Broke,” and album highlight “I’m Slowly Turning Into You,” don’t sound out of synch with “Astro,” “Jimmy the Exploder,” and “Suzy Lee” on The White Stripes. 

At the same time as refusing to evolve, the band has grown through Jack’s increasing virtuosity at guitar, and subsequent instrument expansion. On Get Behind Me Satan Jack seemed bored with just playing guitar, and spent much of the album playing barroom piano. The times he did decide to grace with his guitar playing, on “Blue Orchid” and “Red Rain,” the results were great. On the tracks he played piano the results were mixed. On Icky Thump however, Jack plays guitar on all the tracks, yet the band still incorporates unlikely instruments. On “Conquest,” Jack trades a high-soaring riff with a mariachi trumpeter, and on “Prickly Thorn, But Sweetly Thorn,” and “St. Andrew (This Battle Is In The Air)” Jack riffs with Scottish Bagpipes. All three songs are different than anything in the White Stripes catalog, but with Jack still playing guitar, the tracks don’t have the boredom that crept in during Get Behind Me Satan.

While the album is overall better than the White Stripes’ last, Icky Thump bears some minor issues. For one, lead single “Icky Thump,” while having a Led Zeppelin-esque riff, lacks the power or catchiness of their last two lead singles, “Blue Orchid” and especially “Seven Nation Army.” The album also sags slightly in the middle, with too many slow blues tracks sandwiched between powerful face melting tracks like “Conquest” and “Slowly Turning Into You.”   

Icky Thump fits in nicely in the White Stripes catalog somewhere between Elephant and The White Stripes in quality, (with De Stijl and White Blood Cellsbeing their masterpieces), and finds the band returning to top form. Here’s to hoping Jack finds the time to make another White Stripes album.

(Warner Bros.)

Strung Out – Blackhawks Over Los Angeles

It’s no secret that Strung Out love metal- from their earliest material on Another Day in Paradise (particularly tracks like “Ashes”) to the predominantly metal-sounding EP The Element of Sonic Defiance, they have over the course of their steady career blended the furious pace of hardcore/punk with metal’s more extravagant thrashing. Some of it was grand, and some, not so much. Enthusiasts will argue that the band have stood tallest when their focus was set on the more melodic side of hardcore- both Suburban Teenage Wasteland Blues and Twisted by Design are still arguably the band’s most prolific musical period- but occasionally stumble when they shy away from it. The past few albums have been pretty lean from Strung Out, neither An American Paradoxnor Exile in Oblivion had the lasting impact their predecessors’ did- and while sound in terms of songwriting, lacked the punch (and production value) of their earlier work. Yet the hiccups of the past few releases have not stopped the band from producing one of the finest albums of the genre in recent memory. With Blackhawks Over Los Angeles, Strung Out proves that longevity and a steady hand can still be, and sound, essential.

Working once again with Matt Hyde (who for some reason has done an almost 180 degree turn from Exile in Oblivion), Blackhawks just sounds absolutely terrific. It’s all guns blazing from the start as opener “Calling” is a throwback to songs like “Firecracker” with its up-tempo audio assault, and save for the unnecessary South American instrumental intro, is perhaps one of the best songs Strung Out have written since the start of the millennium. There is no shortage of melodic overtones either, as “All the Nations” (listen below) is the perfect amalgam of high-soaring choruses, toe-tapping melody, and razor sharp guitar work; reminiscent perhaps, of standouts from the past like “Solitaire.” In fact, there really isn’t a sore spot in the entire first half of the album- filled with solid outings like “War Called Home” and “Party in the Hills,” highlighting the band’s new found songwriting energy. 

The second half however, is a little patchier. The best tune from the last six tracks, “Downtown,” is a more mid-tempo effort that is heavy on the hard rock riffs and melody-filled choruses, that while doesn’t have the pace of the opening salvo, paints a more languid, settled approach. “Dirty Little Secret,” has received some flak for being a “WTF?!” moment for the band- but while it certainly treads on unfamiliar ground (bouncy, pop-sounding rock), is by no means a mess of any kind. It’s actually a rather sweet sounding song; owing a bit perhaps to late-era Schleprock than agro, late 80s Bad Religion. After these two, there is just not much that stands outs in the latter part- not entirely a knock as the songs are all solid, it is just that they lack the pervasive urgency that the first half of the album exhibited. 

Shortcomings aside, Strung Out have found the perfect meshing of their love of metal and what they do best: shredding the boundaries of melodic hardcore like few have ever done before them. The album may just be the best way to connect fans of their earlier work to those more disposed to more recent outings. Blackhawks Over Los Angeles may not resonate the way Suburban Teenage Wasteland Blues does, but it’s a solid, if not great, effort that just falls short of being stellar.

(Fat Wreck Chords)

Queens of the Stone Age – Era Vulgaris

Over a span of ten years and five albums, Queens of the Stone Age have had more line-up changes than the Richmond Footy Club has sacked coaches. Yet unlike the lamentable Tigers, who only plummet further into the mire of mediocrity with each sacking, the fluid nature of QOTSA only serves to propel the band to greater heights. It’s almost as if every member knows that each record could be their last and they’re determined to create the very best sound possible. Naturally, Josh Homme is excepted since he’s the supreme overlord of all things QOTSA. The band’s latest album, Era Vulgaris, sees Julian Casablancas of the Strokes drop in to play keyboard guitar, while Nine Inch Nails leading man, Trent Reznor, appears on the title track which was originally taken off the album, then put back on again at the last second as a bonus track. Occasional QOTSA member Mark Lanegan also makes a cameo as a backing vocalist on “River in the Road.”

Era Vulgaris begins pleasantly enough with the opening track, Turnin’ on the Screw. Within moments its slow, heavy drum and funky guitar will have you tapping your foot and nodding your head with your eyes closed as you drift away with the music, when suddenly you’re smacked in the face by the sludgy and explosive metal guitar of “Sick, Sick, Sick.” After the testosterone fuelled“Sick, Sick, Sick” and the cheeky “I’m Designer,” the album changes gears with the melancholy, yet strangely captivating “Into the Hollow.” But before the listener can become too downbeat, future stoner classics “Misfit Love” and “Battery Acid” put the foot firmly back on the accelerator.

The entire album follows the same pattern- bursts of vibrant and infectious rock, surrounded by somber and atmospheric psychedelia; if Queens of the Stone Age was a living, breathing person than it would be diagnosed with bi-polar disorder. Lesser bands would struggle with the constant shift in focus, but for QOTSA it’s a strength that is immensely helped by the brilliant melodies that support every song. Albums like Era Vulgaris prove that iPods, though stylish, aren’t the best way to listen to music. Call me a dinosaur, but hitting random play might be great for vanilla tracks with little substance, but to fully appreciate more dense and layered offerings, you really have to listen to the album in its entirety. With Era Vulgaris each song seems to bleed into the next to tell one, complete narrative where the protagonist is adrift in a world that has been corrupted by its own vices.

It’s been ten years since Queens of the Stone Age first emerged from Palm Desert, and this, their fifth album, can sit proudly among their much loved, earlier recordings. Era Vulgaris is a triumphant success from a band that refuses to grow stale and constantly seeks to push the envelope. Easily one of the best albums of 2007.

(Interscope Records)

Paramore – Riot!

“Young” and “vibrant” are perhaps the two best words to use when describing barely-out-of-their-teens pop rock act Paramore. Having caught the masses’ attention with 2005’s All We Know Is Falling, the Fueled By Ramen quartet have come barreling through the gates with the follow-up Riot! (with extra emphasis). Energy is by no means in short supply either, as opening track “For a Pessimist, I’m Pretty Optimistic” is riff-heavy, and extremely bouncy- with crush-worthy vocalist Hayley Williams making it clear her voice will undoubtedly be one of the album’s highlights.

Musically, they tread similar ground to their previous efforts; melodic, guitar-driven pop rock not too dissimilar from labelmates Cute is What We Aim For and Panic! At the Disco. Songs like “Hallelujah” and the single, “Misery Business,” are equal parts bouncy, as they are sugary sweet and youthful. The latter being the album’s up-and-go ode to The Go-Go’s by way of Banarama as they slip past Blondie. It’s a fun track, and while not all that interested in being too in-depth, is sure to kick start any lagging party. The album’s strongest effort is probably the closer, “Born For This,” which nixes Riot!’s slower moments for more up-tempo, sing-a-long punk rock tones that proves Paramore isn’t all sugar, sweet, and everything neat.

Unfortunately, not all of the album is as vital as its closer. Songs like “When It Rains” plays closer to mid-90s No Doubt with its broken hearted, mid-paced melodrama, while “Crushcrushcrush” sounds a little too much like something that would fit nicely over the opening credits of a Nickelodeon show. The piano-led balladry of “We Are Broken” is a nice example of youthful catharsis, but as expected, more advanced musical tastes will cringe at the tooth-decaying sweetness of it … all very clean, and beaming with high-production gloss and little rawness.

Riot! is a good album for Paramore, the songs are a little tighter than All We Know Is Falling, and it goes a long way in solidifying the band as a positive outfit in the current pop-rock landscape of hacks, has-beens, and never-shoulda-beens. There is plenty to like here, and younger audiences weaned on the Ashley Simpson-brand of rock music will enjoy what’s on offer. It’s not going anywhere near what the title implies (unless of course your brand of rebellion starts and ends of Avril Lavigne), but it has a good time getting there.

(Fueled by Ramen)

Art Brut – It’s a Bit Complicated

With every new British rock group that comes creeping across the sea, they’re brandished with buzz like ‘England’s answer to The Strokes,’ or some other nonsense like that. And, with every Franz Ferdinand that shows up at Ellis Island, the disappointment just seems to mount and mount.

But, Art Brut was always a bit different.

When their debut full length Bang Bang Rock & Roll hit the streets a few years back—both stateside and across the pond—they were slathered with buzz that they actually deserved. Their trademark brand of edgy Britrock, infused with wicked witty lyricisms and a love-it-or-hate-it thick English accent, shot them to the top of the pack as they loaded up on fans left and right. Flash forward two years after Bang Bang Rock & Roll hit the UK record store shelves, and Art Brut are poised and ready for their triumphant return to making LPs. I’m not even going to make a joke about a potential sophomore slump, seeing as Arctic Monkeys broke the import curse this year with Favourite Worst Nightmare, and left the door wide open for Art Brut to come strolling through with their ample charm.

To be honest, It’s A Bit Complicated isn’t really all that complicated. It’s rather simple, actually. First you rock, and rock it British style. Then, toss in lyrics that are reminiscent of a British version of Weezer’s Rivers Cuomo when he’s at the top of his game. The most standout single on this album full of single-worthy tunes is the woo-hoo rocker “Direct Hit,” followed closely by album opener “Pump Up The Volume,” and the jaunty “Blame It On The Trains.”

It’s my observation that Art Brut is at the forefront of a recent revival in British indie rock (yes, I know that phrase gets tossed around every few years, and I’m trying to use it lightly), led by acts such as the aforementioned Arctic Monkeys, Kaiser Chiefs, and the extremely overexposed Amy Winehouse, to name a few. Kudos to Art Brut, as they’ve finally given Brit’s a truly worthy answer to Manhattan’s Julian Casablancas & co., and in the process made an album that actually manages to improve upon an already awesome debut.

(Downtown Recordings)

LCD Soundsystem – Sound of Silver

James Murphy is a dance-orientated Randy Newman. Though their sounds are generations apart, Newman’s “Political Science” and “North American Scum” share a spiritual common ground and the sentiment that America is funny in a sort of sad and scary way.

The difference is that Newman is setting his sights mostly on the government, but Murphy is looking squarely at you. “I hate the feeling when you’re looking at me that way / Cuz we’re North Americans / But if we act all shy it’ll make it OK – makes it go away.” Murphy’s wry socio-cultural isn’t as concerned with the international power of our government; it is instead concerned with the complete lack of international comparison in terms of culture. North American scum are blasé and banal. Here, you “can be in any one of a million new bands!” This criticism also shows Murphy’s self-awareness regarding his own meteoric rise to indie stardom from the New York City rank-and-file (NYC being one of the only North American places given a good review by Murphy).

Surprisingly, considering that LCD Soundsystem has subsisted on a half joke / half tribute song about Daft Punk since their past release, the Randy Newman as dance auteur holds water in terms of lyrics. “Us v. Them” contains the same gloomy – yet witty – narrator that Newman delivered in songs like “It’s Lonely at the Top.” “Cloud, block out the sun over me – over me / And spoil, spoil all the fun, won’t you please? / If you please, please anyone, talk to me, talk to me / All you boys, lonely and drunk, on your knees / Us and them all over again.” Come to think of it, that has a bit of “Mama Told Me Not to Come” in it as well. I believe the title alone of “New York, I Love You but You’re Bringing Me Down” – let alone the lyrics – makes this argument for me.

Obviously, musical common ground between Newman and Murphy is a bit harder to find. One prefers the role of piano man, the other of dance commander. They’ve both used their talents to unusual ends in the past – Newman scored Toy Story, Murphy remixed Britney Spears – but Murphy has always been an ass-shaker, while Newman has had his ass firmly planted on a piano bench for so long, it’s hard to imagine him without it (let alone dancing). Musically, Murphy is to being a white version of Prince – if you don’t believe me, listen to “Time to Get Away.” The way his voice flies off the handle into a falsetto on “time,” the way he groans “dying,” and the way he calls back to an imaginary Revolution “if you know what I mean” makes the song feel like an alternate reality flashback to Purple Rain. Though I don’t know if Murphy has purified himself in the waters of Lake Minnetonka. More like the Hudson River, I would imagine.

All of this is really beating around the bush. The bottom line is that Sound of Silver is a fantastic album, and no one can do modern dance music quite like LCD Soundsystem. Regardless of whether James Murphy is Randy Newman, white Prince, or a combination of both (Prince Newman), he has a capable hand at making intelligent and witty dance music. The man has a promising career in front of him.

(Capitol Records)