new arrivals: m83, the smiths & more

It’s New Arrivals time, and I wanted to lead this week with some exciting news: beginning next week, both here on 17 Dots and on eMusic proper, Jonah Powell will be contributing his roundup of the best Jazz new arrivals to this massive tome. JAZZ FANS, YOUR DAYS IN THE COLD SHADOW OF ISOLATION ARE OVER. We’re a little behind schedule today for a variety of reasons, so I’m just gonna give you the highlights and let you fill in the rest in the comments.

M83, Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming: Go big or go home, amirite? Anthony Gonzalez steps up, crafting a double-disc widescreen epic where every lyric ends in an exclamation point. Cinemascope sci-fi at its finest. eMusic’s Amelia Raitt talked to Anthony about records that served as influences for this one, while Stacey Anderson reviewed the record for us, saying:

Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming is gorgeous because of its careful balance; each vocal keen and keyboard percolation fits into the larger thrum of grandiose synth swells and lightly-plucked guitar — they’re interlocked, intuitive moments that move the melodies forward unpredictably. Zola Jesus sets the tone in “Intro,” fervently howling over a beautiful, wildly-shifting orchestral-pop landscape; she ushers in the entire album.

The Smiths, Reissues: I am not going to succumb to the temptation to quote the entirety of “Paint a Vulgar Picture” here, because I will probably end up buying these just to see how the remastering sounds. They’ve given you a few options here — I think you can buy the entire catalog in one fell swoop here for the very reasonable price of $37.50 (I haven’t done a track-for-track comparison to see if anything is left out) or you can buy each of them individually. Or buy both and feel deceived.

Freestyle Fellowship, The Promise: After a seemingly eternal hiatus, the Fellowship return with another batch of my-rhymes-are-faster-than-your-eyes rhymes and buzzing outer space beats. From the sound of this, the time off hasn’t cost them anything. Nate Patrin agrees, saying:

The sonic imprints of wonky, dirty-digital Left Coast beats gives their vintage battle-rhyme approach some up-to-date stomping grounds. And collaborations with producers like Black Milk (“Candy”) and Exile (“Step 2 the Side”) place them firmly in the current indie-rap continuum. But the familiar themes still hold true — political disillusionment (the #occupy-ready “Government Lies”), familial bonds (fatherly responsibility anthem “Daddies”), being a raw super-scientifical mind-bending lyrical genius (“This Write Here”) — and The Promise serves as a well-timed extension of their legacy.

Class Actress, Rapproacher: Coy, fetching electropop with cooing female vocals. Matthew Fritch has more:

Aided by producers Mark Richardson and Scott Rosenthal, vocalist Elizabeth Harper is engulfed by the same keyboard and synth-drum sounds that once belonged to the Human League and early Depeche Mode. (If you peer closely into Class Actress’s tangle of pre-MIDI synth cables, you can even see the visage of former Depeche Mode keyboardist Vince Clarke.)

Nahawa Doumbia, La Grande Cantatrice Malienne, Vol 3: The incredible blog Awesome Tapes From Africa started a label! This is their first, HIGHLY RECOMMENDED offering, and it is a winner — a gorgeous back of gleaming, skipping highlife with the same kind of loop-de-loop guitars that characterize the best Tinariwen records. This thing is so beautiful, I don’t even know where to start. So I defer to Richard Gehr, who says:

[The album] captures the young singer in simpler, less-adorned arrangements — featuring finger-picked guitar, piano, percussion, and the lutelike kamale ngoni — than future producers would come to favor. The instruments fit together like rough clockwork, with the piano a subtle and unusual addition, and Doumbia flutters and wails among them with a gritty yet melodically devastating voice that’s also something of an improvisational wonder.

Psychic Ills, Hazed Dream: The great Sacred Bones unleashes another batch of woozy mile-high psych full of languid guitars, whispery vocals and deliberately dawdling tempos. This is some seriously drowsy music. eMusic’s Andy Beta has more:

Heavy-lidded opener “Midnight Moon” takes a walk down the street and might as well be “Walkin’ With Jesus” while “Incense Head” finds Tres Warren’s echoing mumble as assuaging as Jason Pierce’s used to be. “Mind Daze” creates just that, phasing everything out to give it a disorienting lilt.

Pujol, Nasty, Brutish and Short: This is some great trashy, thrashy garage, with amps cranked way into the red and the vocals rude, snide and drawling. This is the PBR of rock & roll — cheap, and proudly no-frills, trash rock at its finest.

Gauntlet Hair, s/t: Bounding and jubilant synth-based songs kind of sound like a more hyperactive Passion Pit. Some experimental flourishes round out the mix.

Tom Ze, Grande Liquidicao: OK!! 1968 debut from Brazilian psych-pop maestro Tom Ze is bubbling over with the kind of sly harmonies and cockeyed harmonies he’d perfect over the course of his career. This guy is so awesome I don’t even know where to begin, but fans of Os Mutantes & the like are not going to want to pass this one up. Fans of off-kilter ’60s psych pop should not be far behind. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

Shelby Lynne, Revelation Road: New one from Shelby Lynne, a songwriter whose music has gained more depth and grace with each passing year. This one is no exception. Ghostly country and languid melodies coupled with spare production make this a winner. eMusic’s Britt Robson says:

On this taut, intimate collection, Lynne whittles her songs down to their essence, with spare arrangements in which she plays all the instruments in a home studio, and straightforward language that brooks few compromises. The lead title track sets the tone, pinning down religion with withering sarcasm. (Two examples: “Nothin’ left to do but pray/ with your head in the sand,” and “One Hail Mary does the trick/ to give up all your sins.”) Lynne follows that up with “I’ll Hold Your Head,” at once the album’s catchiest and most poignant tune, as a young Shelby provides comfort to her younger sis while her parents brawl.

Richard Swift, Walt Wolfman: Richard Swift returns with another batch of spaced-out doo-wop and Swift’s own spooky take on ’60s pop. This sounds a lot less formal and a lot weirder than the stuff he’s been doing lately. I’m intrigued — call it Martians in poodle skirts.

Ford & Lopatin, Channel Pressure Remixes: Selections from F&L’s very good full-length get sliced and diced and fricasseed, taking that album’s relatively straightforward electropop and making it something glitchier and more nervous.

Forest Fire, Staring At the X: The buzz around this record is slowly becoming deafening, so get keen to this one now. Fervent, pouty, yelped vocals, reverb-soaked keys and the occasional detour into spaced-out country make this one enticingly hard to pin down. RECOMMENDED

Lalah Hathaway, Where It All Begins: Husky vocals and laserlike beats characterize this neo-R&B outing. I’m liking what I hear here — Lalah tends toward the more free-form style of R&B practiced by folks like Muhsinah and the Foreign Exchange, and leavens that experimentalism with some straight up ’70s style R&B.

Japanther, Beets, Limes & Rice: Oh Japanther, you jokesters. Indie band that’s been around for a while now offsets quick punk rhythms with plenty of scuzz and snide-but-hooky vocal melodies for a batch of chintz-fi pop music.

Coasting, You’re Never Going Back: GREAT new band bursting with ragged guitars and sweet-n-sour vocals make this just the kind of trashy indie-punk I love. eMusic’s Laura Leebove agrees. She says of this HIGHLY RECOMMENDED release:

You’re Never Going Back is the debut LP from Brooklyn duo Coasting; guitarist Madison Farmer and drummer Fiona Campbell (also of Vivian Girls). Tracks like “Snoozefest” and “Kids” are cleaned up from 2010′s singles collection, but the music is still raw and simple: equal parts skuzzy guitars and surfpop harmonies, at home alongside acts like Dum Dum Girls and Grass Widow.

Puscifer, Conditions of My Parole: Another side project of Tool’s Maynard James Keenan, this sounds more restless than other things he’s been involved with, lots of bubbling synths, sturdy melodies and a couple of forays into classic Keenan weirdness. eMusic’s John Figelsthaler says:

Conditions of My Parole often plays like the soundtrack to a heavy-metal porno in hell’s winery — it’s the kind of record where lyrical decadence commingles with sonic opulence. Longtime fans of Keenan’s other outfits, Tool and A Perfect Circle, know what to expect: Conditions of My Parole ranges from soft electro, where Maynard harmonizes with sensual female vocals, to thrusting guitars with a snarling metallic edge.

Kissing Party, Wasters Wall: FIND OF THE DAY! Spindly guitars, plenty of open space and shy, whispery vocals make this a genuine indie surprise. Imagine late-period Superchunk’s glistening arrangements with early-period Superchunk’s need for speed and you’ve got an idea of what the story is here.

The Supreme Dicks, Reissues: The entire Supreme Dicks catalog gets reissued by Jagjaguwar today. These early ’90s weirdos fiddled with free-form songwriting, noise and experimentalism, crafting a catalog of some of the most unique and difficult-to-categorize music around.

Ex-Action Model, Dropland: Bright batch of bubbling electronic music. Lots of bounding synths and worked-up drum machines make this come off like the soundtrack to some early ’80s sci-fi romance.

Food Pyramid, III: New record on the stellar Moon Glyph label traffics in the same kind of lunar ambiance they’ve become known for. Lots of murky synthesizers, strange sounds and blinking electronics set this one deep inside the burgeoning genre I’m dubbing Planetarium core.

Total Abuse, Prison Sweat: Violent, guitar-based noise that occasionally gives way to some of the most pulverizing industrial hardcore I’ve heard in a long time. This one is for all you angry folks.

Singles & EPs
R.E.M., “We All Go Back to Where We Belong”: The final R.E.M. single, part of the group’s forthcoming career-spanning greatest hits record, is lush and elegant and kind of recalls mid-period Yo La Tengo and Belle & Sebastian. I’m not kidding. I got a little choked up the first time I heard this. Deal with it.

Grass House, “Faun”: Fans of the National and Nick Cave would do well to check out this UK band with deep vocals and a dour sense of humor.

Niva, “Dirty Water”: Percolating, somewhat chillwavey single from a band I know very little about. Sounds very promising, thought!