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Thursday, May 02, 2024

Hit the Pavement or catch a Jet to get these albums

 

 

 

 

(Matador) 

 

 

 

Pavement's can perhaps best be described as an accidental classic. Favorable word of mouth greeted its release in 1992, and audiences quickly embraced the album's rough sound, deeming it the start of a new \lo-fi"" movement. The irony is that the band quickly explained this lo-fi, fuzzy sound was not intentional, rather it was just the product of recording on a budget. Pavement would improve their sound with each subsequent release, but for a decade fans and critics continued to embrace , ultimately creating enough demand to warrant this comprehensive re-release. 

 

 

 

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Perhaps Matador records was being ironic when they claimed that this is the remastered version of . The album, thankfully, sounds as fuzzy as ever. Behind all of the mumbled lyrics, shouted backing vocals, noise and feedback lie infectious pop songs (""Summer Babe,"" ""Trigger Cut""), and moments of emotional immediacy (""Here,"" ""Zurich Is Stained"") and... well, more noise and feedback. These songs have aged incredibly well, with Stephen Malkmus' cryptic lyrics and slacker attitude still as refreshing as ever. 

 

 

 

The real reason to purchase , however, is the hour and a half of extra material, collecting virtually everything that the band recorded during this time period. In addition to the numerous b-sides, most of which are at least as good as anything on the actual album, this release also contains the entire Watery, Domestic EP, which finds the band maintaining their early lo-fi sound while bringing it closer to the pop perfection they would later achieve on Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain.  

 

 

 

Equally enjoyable are the tracks the band recorded with legendary radio man John Peel. By spreading positive word of mouth about Pavement, Peel played a large role in establishing them within the music community. Pavement rewards him by performing seven songs never recorded anywhere else which demonstrate the band's progression.  

 

 

 

""Kentucky Cocktail,"" for instance, allows the band to perfect their controlled feedback and trademark buzzing guitars. More of a stylistic departure is ""Ed Ames,"" which finds the band in Velvet Underground mood as Malkmus recites his stream-of-thought poetry over a mellow groove that gradually becomes washed away in noise. 

 

 

 

The collection's real highlight, however, is the band's 1992 Brixton Academy concert, 40 minutes of previously unreleased heaven. The sound is incredibly crisp and the band is in fine form, adding extra verses and guitar solos liberally in an effort to win over the audience. Literally every song in the set list is improved upon live, especially the band's earliest b-sides. ""Home"" in particular is transformed from a lazy demo to a would-be classic thanks to some shiver-inducing guitar work and Malkmus' perfectly timed, passionate vocals.  

 

 

 

The energetic show culminates with a lively rendition of ""In The Mouth A Desert,"" where the Pavement's faint hardcore influence merges perfectly with their Beach Boy-esque love of backing vocals. It's an excellent end to this impeccable release, an album that serves both as a comprehensive documentation of the short-lived lo-fi movement and as a reminder that even on a small budget it's still possible to rock incredibly hard. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Matador) 

 

 

 

Large Professor, the legendary producer who has created countless classics for the likes of Nas, A Tribe Called Quest and the Beastie Boys among others, has finally released an album of his own. It's a safe bet to say that Large Pro's credentials are exceptional. After learning how to produce from Pete Rock, he showed the likes of DJ Premier and Prodigy (of Mobb Deep) their way around the studio.  

 

 

 

Unfortunately, Large Professor can't show anybody their way around the microphone, and this drags down this disappointing album. Few adjectives can give justice to Extra P's lack of vocal skill, and this is evidenced on every single track of the album. Oftentimes, he alters words, a la Snoop Dogg, to make a rhyme (""Pulled out served 'em all up like a custy""). Other times, his lyrics are simply nonsensical (""Ya'll some fake Gilda Radners"").  

 

 

 

Of course, P's skills on the boards draw most of the attention away from his voice. On solo tracks like ""'Bout That Time,"" ""Ultimate,"" and ""Blaze Rhymes II,"" the excellent production makes the pathetic rhymes worth listening to. However, the beats on this album are fairly inconsistent. ""Brand New"" and ""Born To Ball"" both suffer from awful beats, which is a real disappointment considering P's stature. The production and rhymes on these songs are essentially fighting to see which one can make the listener skip the track first.  

 

 

 

Large Pro seems to know that he isn't very talented lyrically though, and this is probably why the guest appearances on the album are all established rappers. Each guest rips the mic, and Large Pro seems to have saved his best production for the tracks with other artists on them. ""Stay Chisel"" (featuring Nas), ""In The Sun"" (featuring Q-Tip) and the cleverly titled ""Akinyele"" (featuring Akinyele) are all examples of P's ability to shape a beat around the talents of an artist. Each of these songs is brilliant, with the guests delivering outstanding verses over good music production. The true gem of this album though, is ""On,"" featuring Busta Rhymes. Large Pro goes drum-heavy on the beat, creating a fast-paced instrumental that Busta rips to shreds. The production here is so good that it makes Large Pro's verse sound respectable.  

 

 

 

The overall mediocrity of this album proves that Large Professor should back away from the mic and stick where he belongs, behind the boards. Although the production does falter at times, it's clearly solid on the whole. The vocals, however, are inferior, with the four guests delivering the four best verses of the album. Large Pro's production is admirable, but his vocals make second rate.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Jade Tree Records) 

 

 

 

1998 marked a minor turning point in the history of emo music with the release of Jets To Brazil's . The critically acclaimed album, penned by former Jawbreaker singer/guitarist Black Schwarzenbach, sold respectably and brought increased attention to the then-fledging genre. In many respects, Schwarzenbach's transition from a punk band to an emo band even foreshadowed a larger commercial trend, and the ""heart on your sleeve"" songs that he perfected can now be heard on television and radio. 

 

 

 

, the band's follow up to a critically disappointing sophmore release, is a commercially viable return to form for the band. This time around Jets To Brazil comes armed with hit-or-miss orchestration, more catchy hooks (particularly on the should-be single ""You're the One I Want,"") and plenty of Schwarzenbach's trademark over-enunciated, conversational vocals and straightforward lyrics. It's an instantly pleasing listen, but ultimately it fails to do little more than provide a dumbed-down version of the band's historic debut. 

 

 

 

Schwarzenbach is a distinct and talented vocalist, and at his best he sings with increasing intensity. However, his talent is largely wasted on Perfecting Loneliness and his vocals are kept overly restrained.  

 

 

 

Take the album's opening track, ""The Frequency,"" for instance. It's an enjoyable, driving piece of pop-rock that builds to the point where one can't wait for Schwarzenbach to inevitably let loose and wail during the final rendition of the chorus. The problem is he never does wail, or even really raise his voice for that matter; rather the production settles for simply placing his vocals higher in the mix and slightly distorting them. Robbed of the intensity that should make this material thrive, the album seems hollow and lulls considerably in its second half. 

 

 

 

disguises itself as a well-crafted rock album, but ultimately it's little more than a sick joke; an emo record that doesn't allow the singer to emote. Seriously, what the hell? 

 

 

 

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