Various Artists, Concert for George
To honor what would have been the late Beatle’s 75th birthday, the 2002 concert saluting his memory makes its debut on streaming services. (It’s also being reissued on LP and in a limited-edition boxed set with a double-disc DVD/Blu-Ray of the show.) The show, which took place at the Royal Albert Hall and was shepherded by Eric Clapton, featured performances of Harrison’s songs by fellow Beatles Ringo Starr and Paul McCartney, fellow Traveling Wilburys Tom Petty and Jeff Lynne, as well as Harrison’s son Dhani. “Olivia had given me this job of being musical director to single out people for certain songs, and I found that really hard,” Clapton told Rolling Stone in 2003. “We were all quite protective of our relationships with George.”
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Caroline Rose, Loner
Caroline Rose sharpens her musical attack along with her wit on her second album, which leaves the Americana trappings of her early recordings behind for jagged electric guitars and pulsing synthesizers. What comes into focus is her sense of humor, whether she’s cheekily lampooning the grind of capitalism on the manic punk-rockabilly romp “Money” or deconstructing tired male assumptions about female strength in “Cry!” She may admit to feeling out of place and bored at a party where the guests “all have alternative haircuts and straight white teeth,” as she notes on “More of the Same,” but Loner suggests Rose has done herself a solid by laughing it off and owning her inability to blend in. Jon Freeman
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Snoop Dogg, 220
A surprise-release of eight tracks from the stoner-rap icon. On the intro, he muses, “You know, man, I’ve been doing this shit for like 25, 26 years,” between puffs, “and one thing about the game, the game don’t change, just the players.” So he’s teamed with some younger artists (Jacquees, LunchMoney Lewis) and an O.G. (Kokane) for a mix of predictably smooth tunes about hanging with his friends (“220”) and love (“Everything”), as well as a G-funkified story-rap about starting the day with a gunfight and ending it at a party (“Doggytails”) that rules, Slick Rick-style. One song, “I Don’t Care,” is a nu-school-fashioned sex jam with trap rhythms and a punchy chorus, but even that sounds easy like Sunday morning thanks to Snoop’s flow. Kory Grow
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Screaming Females, All at Once
A little more than a decade since they formed, Screaming Females have matured from guitar-shredding indie-punks into a power trio that makes rock for rock’s sake. Their seventh full-length sports 15 muscular, riff-centric songs that revolve around Marissa Paternoster’s forceful, sometimes fluttering vocals as she sings about anxiety and feeling lovelorn. Echoes of late-era Sleater-Kinney, Dinosaur Jr. and even a little Patti Smith abound. Standouts include “Agnes Martin,” which shimmers with Deep Purple organ buried deep in the mix (the album was helmed by Mastodon and Pearl Jam producer Matt Bayles) and one of Paternoster’s best bluesy solos, and the catchy closer “Step Outside,” a four-minute guitar workout that benefits from the timely chorus “I’m sick with worry just knowing/When you step outside you won’t be safe now.” Kory Grow
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SOB x RBE, Gangin
The beats on the pumped-up full-length by this Bay Area hip-hop collective – last heard on the Black Panther soundtrack – run the gamut, style-wise, with a handful using sparkling, surprising samples (Cameo’s wiry “Attack Me With Your Love” on the slinky “Anti Social,” Noel’s downcast 1987 hit “Silent Morning” on the manic “Carpoolin'”) to back up their boisterous boasts.
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Turnstile, Time & Space
Renowned for their anarchic live shows, Baltimore hardcore punks Turnstile open the pit to a broader range of sounds and collaborators on their refreshingly free-form major-label debut. The band borrows from the Nirvana playbook on garage-rock shredder “Moon” and shyly flashes a freak flag on slinky jazz interludes “Bomb” and “Disco.” Longtime fan Diplo makes an understated cameo on “Right to Be,” his synths splashing neon onto Turnstile’s concrete political protest. Hardcore purists may bristle, but Time & Space offers fans new and old some room to breathe. Suzy Exposito
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Starchild & The New Romantic, Language
“25 Under 25” honoree Bryndon Cook’s debut as Starchild & the New Romantic is nervy and vibrant, a future-funk vision that dispenses with glossy textures in favor of a sweaty raggedness that recalls hours-long jam sessions. Cook’s tender-love slow jams – the plush “Only If U Knew,” the searching “Hand to God,” the glittery “Can I Come Over?” – are gorgeous and shimmery, with the hopeful “Boys Choir” shifting from don’t-disturb grooves into a looking-for-love hymn. When he ups the tempo, the heat rises alongside it; the Minneapolis-sound bounce of “Lost Boys” and the flinty robo-grooves of the title track shimmy as his yowl grows more intense, while the sprawling “Black Diamond” pits spiky synths against brass blasts in a fight for the funk. Spoiler alert: Everybody wins. Maura Johnston
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Totally Mild, Her
Elizabeth Mitchell, the vocalist for Melbourne-based pop quartet Totally Mild, has an aching soprano that brings to mind the wails of Dolores O’Riordan and the biting resolve of Amelia Fletcher – the best moments on her band’s swooningly slow second album come when it’s surrounded by minimalist accompaniment. On “Working Like a Crow,” her wide-open vowel sounds are tethered to earth by taut guitar riffs and a gently burbling bassline, while the gently blooming album closer “Down Together” opens with her slightly reverb-tweaked vocal alone, then swaddles it in hazy synths and stinging riffs. Totally Mild borrows from twee, slowcore, synthpop and jukebox 45s, and its ruminative, yet airy indiepop is stunning. Maura Johnston
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Dedekind Cut, Tahoe
Dedekind Cut’s second album is cutting-edge ambient of the highest caliber. The Sacramento-based project mixes classically New Age-y signifiers (rain, strings, throat singing, chants, birdsong) with nostalgic uncanny-valley textures and a sense of dread. There are shades of the early-Nineties Pure Moods era of Enya, or the early-Aughts Kranky Records era of Stars of the Lid, but Tahoe is built for crumbling dystopias and post-Internet wildfires – the drifting ambient of our past, weaponized into poison-gas nightmare music. Christopher R. Weingarten
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Keiji Haino & Sumac, American Dollar Bill – Keep Facing Sideways, You’re Too Hideous to Look at Face On
For nearly 40 years, Japanese experimental music icon Keiji Haino has been obliterating the boundaries of art-rock, free improv, psychedelia and sheer face-melting noise with his unique, unpredictable vocal wails and thunderstorms of guitar. Though he’s collaborated with some of the most famous noisemakers and chaos-cullers – Merzbow, John Zorn, Boris, Peter Brötzmann, Derek Bailey – his first collaboration with an extreme metal band seems like massive, explosive, disgusting new ground. Sumac, the razor-sharp post-sludge project of Isis leader Aaron Turner, are a monolithic proposition, and they enter Haino’s bent universe with a power established by Nick Yacyshyn, a hard-hitting drummer that Dave Grohl once called his “favorite new drummer by far” and who plays with Melvins-y explosions Christopher R. Weingarten
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