Chum Onah: Bx7 Celebrates The Music Of Michael Jackson - Various Artists

Michael Jackson’s death back in June has, for some reason or another, made an impression on basically every single human being alive. I’d rather not mention my thoughts on the entire media circus surrounding the former King of Pop’s demise, but let me just say: if you thought that even the most cynical, chillwave-loving hipsters were immune to the news of MJ’s death, you’d be dead wrong. As proof, I offer Chum Onah: Bx7 Celebrates the Music of Michael Jackson. And sure enough, there’s a fresh-faced young Michael sporting a ridiculous psychedelic afro on the deliberately cheap-looking cover of this bizarre tribute album. Here’s the gist of it: somebody (Butterface, whoever that is) brought together ten buzzy indie/lo-fi/______wave groups to record a set of Michael Jackson covers in their own trendy recorded-in-the-bedroom style. So far this review is making it sound like I don’t dig this album, but that’s not true. I wish I didn’t dig this album, because, frankly, it seems more like a cheap attempt at pointless irony than a legitimate tribute. But the songs themselves are mostly pretty fab, particularly Toro Y Moi’s spacey version of “Human Nature”, which fizzes and crackles with the same groundbreaking energy that made MJ’s original such a revelation (I’ve already professed my love for Toro Y Moi a few days ago… he doesn’t seem to be capable of putting out a bad track). And despite the fact that Hungry, Hungry Ghost describe themselves as the world’s only “post-indie transcendentalist punk band” (gag me), their rendition of “Earth Song” is downright inspiring: it’s melodramatic, corny, and beautiful in all the right ways. Dem Hunger’s bizarre sound collage take on “A Brain Inna River” (is that even a Michael Jackson song?) sounds about as indebted to “Billie Jean” or “Thriller” as does Napalm Death, but it’s a cool track nonetheless. Unfortunately, it’s not all good vibes: Phil & The Osophers’ two tracks are lo-fi to the point of idiocy (you might as well listen to radio static), and Julian Lynch’s two chances to shine are squandered on a couple of hokey “I ♥ the 80’s” jokes. But even with its occasional missteps, Chum Onah is a pretty interesting and, for the most part, entertaining tribute album, and at the very least, it’s something different from the glut of bland MJ tributes that we’ve been enduring for months now.

If they say why, why? Tell ‘em that is human nature.

You Don't Know: Ninja Cuts - Various Artists

There was a time in the mid/late 90’s when London’s Ninja Tune records virtually ruled the digital underground, with practically everything they released becoming an instant trip-hop/chillout/nu-jazz/ambient/drum & bass classic. Ninja Tune’s greatest achievement was legitimizing “weird” electronic music and introducing it to the dancefloor, and even the radio – it’s easy to forget that 90’s hipsters were dancing to something other than rave and big beat. You Don’t Know is the fifth in the label’s Ninja Cuts compilation series. While Ninja Tune might not command the underground respect it once did, it’s still one of the freshest labels in existence. Far from relying upon its old, outmoded standby genres, label founder Coldcut assembles here an all-star cast of mysterious dancefloor gods for this three-disc voyage through the oceans of “indie” club music. Though everything found here could tangentially be considered “dance” music, the variety of material is simply stellar: Ghislain Poirier, Bonobo, Daedalus, Mike Ladd, King Geedorah, and others bring the abstract hip-hop sound in which Ninja Tune has recently been specializing, The Cinematic Orchestra, The Herbaliser, and Yppah peddle homegrown acid jazz/funk, Roots Manuva and Ty rock over bottomless dub rhythms, and Amon Tobin, Mr. Scruff, and Coldcut himself update the classic Ninja Tune sound for a new generation of listeners. It’s all quality, but the most unusual tracks here are those that warrant repeated listens: Pop Levi’s buzzy electro-glam “Dita Dimoné”, RJD2’s barnstorming percussion-heavy “True Confessions”, and TTC’s over-the-top Francophone hip-hoppy “Travailler” are all marvelous dancefloor fillers, proving that Ninja Tune is even more relevant and impressive now than it was in its heyday over a decade ago.

Une

Deux

Trois

Friday At The Hideout: Boss Detroit Garage 1964-67 - Various Artists

They don't call Detroit "Rock City" for nuthin'. Back in the mid 60's, when, for a few brief minutes, the world's eyes turned to Detroit during Motown's heyday, a homegrown garage rock/maximum R&B scene was just beginning to take form. This scene would eventually see the rise of proto-punk legends The Stooges and The MC5, who in turn would watch acts like Bob Seger, Grand Funk Railroad, and Ted Nugent rise to superstardom in the 70's. But before the long, greasy hair, endless riffage, and drunken ribaldry of "Detroit rock", Hideout Records and its accordingly named dance club provided an outlet for southeast Michigan's hep teens to shimmy and shake every weekend. Dave Leone's small garage rock imprint was just one of literally hundreds of its type across the nation, but it's notable for two reasons: the future stars that got started there, and the pure quality of the music released. Unfortunately, none of the tracks cut by Bob Seger for Hideout were included on this compilation due to some legal mumbo-jumbo, but his brand of workin' man's blues is well-represented nonetheless. This comp offers up some serious frat-rock breakdowns from Doug Brown & The Omens, some Kinks-y groovers from The Underdogs, and some poppier psych gems from Four Of Us and The Mushrooms (both featuring a teenage Glen Frey). But the real gems here are the two cuts from The Pleasure Seekers, an all-girl housewreckin' combo starring a sweet young Suzi Quatro. "Never Thought You'd Leave Me" sounds like a girly version of The Dovers, full of plunky bass, jazzy Fender Rhodes piano, and the kind of "California Sun" guitar riff that 60's garage bands just couldn't get enough of. And then there's "What A Way To Die", yet another song to add to the list of tunes that should've made it onto Nuggets but somehow didn't. Sounding like a deranged gutbucket punk version of The Tammys' girl-group classic "Egyptian Shumba", "What A Way To Die" goes straight for the jugular, making Suzi's later glam rock stuff sound tame and bland by comparison. For anyone interested in Detroit's thriving garage rock history, this comp is a killer.

Well I may not live past twenty-one, but what a way to die!

African Jazz 'n' Jive - Various Artists

Aside from the occasional "world music" crossover act, African music gets very little attention here in the States. That's not entirely surprising, as African music seldom contains the sort of glossy pop appeal that makes for hit records in the US of A. But what most American consumers don't realize is that since the 1920's, African musical trends have been inextricably bound with those of the United States, particularly the black population. Beginning with the early days of jazz, when Dixieland reverberations were felt around the world, African urban centers, particularly those in Nigeria, Cameroon, and Ghana, responded with their own energetic adaptations of black American music. As time went on, West African musicians began to develop their own permutations of American music that was, in turn, born of traditional African music. The first really noteworthy movement of this type was the "township" jazz craze that dominated radio airwaves from the late 40's to the early 60's and paved the way for the popular "highlife" and Afrobeat styles that became world-famous through the work of Fela Kuti, King Sunny Ade, and others. This compilation focuses on the later days of township jazz, once it was firmly established as Africa's hippest musical force. The casual listener might be surprised at how stylistic close this is to classic American swing and bop. Indeed, only the occasional non-English lyric distinguishes it from early Charlie Parker orlate Duke Ellington. But inventive tracks like Kippie Moeketsi's "Clarinet Kwela" sound wholly unique, while Lemmy "Special" Mabase's "Kwela Blues" has a folksy, amateurish charm that's rare in American jazz from the 50's. Sure, this isn't as dynamic as Fela's Afrobeat or the percussive sounds of jùjú, but for jazz aficionados, it's a pleasant and interesting look at jazz from the heart of the groove.

Something new in Africa!

BIPPP: French Synth Wave 1979-85 - Various Artists

The jury's still out on whether or not the French can rock, but when it comes to robotic jerking and convulsing, the French are kings. France's disco history has been well-documented thanks to big names like Daft Punk and Justice, but their history of robot rock is much more obscure. The French have always displayed a penchant for dabbling in the latest musical electronics, from the tape collage experiments of Pierre Schaeffer, to the hokey Moog rock of Jean-Jacques Perry and Pierre Henry, through the brief "space disco" craze of the late 70's, and living on in various incarnations through Air, the Ed Banger crew, and of course, Daft Punk. But what happens when the Gauls think to combine the computer sounds they love so very much with the tension and aggression of punk? (It may come as a surprise to some to learn that there is French punk other than "Ça Plane Pour Moi") The result is something like Suicide transposed from CBGB to Studio 54, en Français. Most of this collection comes from the post-disco era, however, so that's not quite an accurate summation of this sound. Honestly, it sounds like most early 80's "death disco" or early electro pop, but it contains rather unique strands that are difficult to classify. Some of this might alienate all but hardcore Francophiles (A Trois Dans Les WC's "Contagion", for instance), while more dance-oriented tracks like "Je T'ecris D'un Pays" from Les Visiteurs Du Soir and Act's "Ping Pong" would probably sound perfectly-suited to your local indie dance club. Enjoy it for what it is: French synth-punk. After all, did you even know that such a thing existed up until now?

It's a pretty day to die, my blue eyes and your black eyes.

Colombia! The Golden Age Of Discos Fuentes - Various Artists

When talking Colombian music, or Latin music in general, it doesn't get much better than Discos Fuentes. Antonio Fuentes Estrada's labor of love became the first Colombian-owned record label when it opened for business in the 30's and continues today as one of the world's foremost exponents of greasy, ass-shaking Latin grooves. Although marvelously consistent, Discos Fuentes experienced its greatest successes in the 60's and 70's as it strove to legitimize the African rhythms of cumbia and the pan-Latin soul of salsa for a global record-buying public. This collection of swaggering cumbia dancefloor fillers and sly nightclub vamps focuses on the years 1960 to 1976; the years in which American record buyers hungry for a new craze were eager to snap up anything tangibly similar to the Latin music popularized by Afro-Cuban jazz, Tito Puente, and Fania Records. The tracks contained herein, however, still sound gloriously unbound by American dancefloor trends: this is pure Colombian cumbia. Fruko & Sus Tesos and Michi Sarmiento are the most well-represented artists here, with three tracks apiece, and together they manage to steal the entire show. Fruko and his compadres were houserockin' innovators, integrating aspects of tribal folk music and pop harmonies into their spicy salsa, while Sarmiento and his band specialized in a more traditional and laid-back brand of cumbia, stretching out brilliantly on paradisiac cuts like "La Primavera". The most stunning track here, however, belongs to Los Corraleros De Majagual. "El Mondongo" is a ten minute-plus epic of jazzy piano frills, insistent percussion, and spectacular trumpet solos. If you can't get down to this, you had better get your hips checked.

Qué soda!

Monsieur Gainsbourg Revisited - Various Artists

Tribute albums are always a dodgy idea. Few manage to truly evoke the spirit of the artist in tribute, while many are built on gimmicks designed to rope in unsuspecting fans of said artist (another Gainsbourg tribute, I ♥ Serge: Electronica Gainsbourg unfortunately falls into this latter category). When dealing with a real maverick like France's legendary "dirty old man of rock & roll", it only stands to reason that a tribute album would sound just as peculiar and diverse as Serge's own recordings. And therein is where this album both succeeds and fails (luckily, the successes are rather spectacular and significantly outnumber the failures). Most of the artists compiled here have already publicly, or at least through their music, expressed their devotion to this self-proclaimed "cabbage-headed sex maniac", and here they finally get their chance to gush over Gainsbourg's iconic compositions. As far as first tracks go, Franz Ferdinand and Jane Birkin's explosive "A Song For Sorry Angel" sets the bar extremely high, remaining faithful in spirit to Serge's synth-y original without obviously copping Serge's 60's clichés, a vice to which many of the performers here fall victim. Portishead's "Requiem For Anna" is atmospheric and moody, and sounds more like a magnificent collaboration between Beth Gibbons and Gainsbourg's ghost, rather than a student paying tribute to the master. The Rakes' nervy take on "Les Poinçonneurs des Lilas", translated here as "Just A Man With A Job", plays like a conventional though thrilling punk cover, and Jarvis Cocker's syrupy reading of "Je Suis Venu Te Dire Que Je M'en Vais" ("I Just Came To Tell You I'm Going") sounds just about like the Gainsbourg original, but that's no dig at Cocker; if anyone's spent his career campaigning for broader recognition of Serge's musical gifts to mankind, it's him. The most depressing duds here are Cat Power and, oddly enough, Jack White's wife Karen Elson's bland trawl through Serge's only international hit, "Je T'aime... Moi Non Plus", which aims for that vintage French erotica that everybody seems to love and misses the mark completely. Likewise, James Iha and Kazu Makino's dreary and melodramatic translation of "Bonnie et Clyde" is almost instantly irritating, sufficient proof that some things just sound better en Français. But these are small complaints, and as far as tribute albums go, this one is quite a thrill.

Counting lights, every night, every kind of light.

FabricLive.27 - DJ Format

The Fabric nightclub's ever-expanding series of DJ mix albums released under the names of Fabric and FabricLive focus primarily on IDM, trance, electro, and a number of other electronic dance music permutations, which is perhaps why DJ Format's entry into the FabricLive canon feels simultaneously like a fly in the electro-oriented ointment and a welcome departure from programmed dance beats. DJ Format, you see, does not spin electro. His gift to the Fabric community is a saucy platter of finger-lickin' R&B - rhythm and blues in many incarnations. The first half of this house-rockin' compilation is comprised primarily of the funkiest hip-hop this side of the "Funky Drummer" break - Ugly Duckling, Lyrics Born, Cut Chemist, Coldcut and DJ Format himself all make appearances. Dropping two of his own tracks might seem a bit indulgent if Format didn't coast on such an ace groove from start to finish; in fact, his collaboration with Abdominal, "3 Ft. Deep" is an unmatched highlight. But it's not the hip-hop side of this platter that contains FabricLive.27's chief appeal. From Ella Fitzgerald's dynamite cover of "Sunshine Of Your Love" onward, it's pure soul fire. Nina Simone and Julie Driscoll tear the roof off with their respective monster dancers, and eccentric slide-guitarist Ellen McIlwaine steals the show with a barnstorming rendition of "Toe Hold". Elsewhere, retro-funk revivalists Karachi Prison Band conjure up a tempest of percussion on "Put Some Grit In It" and Cleo Laine just about wraps everything up with the Northern soul nectar of "Night Owl" leaving our old friend Edan to bring this party to a close with a magnificent finale on "Rock and Roll".

We're ready to begin so grab your spot on the floor.

Hot Women: Women Singers From The Torrid Regions Of The World - Various Artists

A love of crackly old 78's has always been a recurring theme in R. Crumb's iconic underground comics, but, to my knowledge, this is the first album to be compiled and packaged by Crumb himself. Crumb idealizes women (dig his eccentric portraits of his favorite plus-sized beauties and art-damaged runaways), so this compilation seems like a logical extension of his love for world music from the good ol' days and the tough old gals who made their voices heard. The depth of this compilation is astounding: twenty-four tracks of lovely ladies belting out traditional classics from their homelands, places as exotic as Cuba, Brazil, Chile, Sicily, Hawaii, Madagascar, Turkey, Algeria, and Greece*. My personal favorites are old-timey Cajun singer Cleoma Falcon's "Blues Negres", Tejano border queen Lydia Mendoza's "Mexico En Una Laguna", and rebellious Greek rembetika singer Rita Abadzi's "Mime Stelis Mana Anastin Ameriki", but the amazing diversity of this collection makes naming highlights rather difficult. These recordings are mastered from 78's from the 20's, 30's, and 40's, so, naturally, many of these foreign folk tunes may sound "difficult" to some ears. Nevertheless, it's a helluva collection, and, at the very least, a warm and fuzzy gift from underground comics' most fascinating personage.

What does it all mean, Mr. Natural?

*For the discerning ethnomusicologist, here follows a list of recording years and locations:

1. "Blues Negres" - Cleoma Breaux Falcon (Lousiana Cajun, 1934)

2. "Mexico en Una Laguna" - Lidya Mendoza y Familia (Mexican, mid-1930s)
3. "El Cacahuatero" - Tona la Negre (Mexican, early 1930s)
4. "Tambor de la Alegria" - Grupo de la Alegria (Cuban, 1928)
5. "Liva" - Leona Gabriel-Soime with A. Kindou Orchestra (French Caribbean, 1932)
6. "Quero Sossego" - Araci Cortes with Brunswick Orcherstra (Brazilian, 1931)
7. "Papa Araucana" - Las Cuatro Huasas (Chilean, early 1930s)
8. "Sevillanas No. 2" - La Nina de Los Peines acomp. by Nino Ricardo (Spanish, 1927)
9. "Lu Fistinu Di Palermo" - Rosina Trubia Gioiosa (Sicilian, 1927)
10. "Mime Stelis Mana Anastin Ameriki" - Rita Abadzi (Greek, mid-1930s)
11. "Arostisa Manoula Mou" - Maria Vasileiathou (Greek, late 1930s)
12. "Guenene Tini" - Cheikha Tetma (Algerian, 1930)
13. "Khraïfi" - Aicha Relizania (Algerian, 1936)
14. "Yama N'Chauf Haja Tegennen" - Julie Marsellaise (Tunisian, 1929)
15. "Neva Hicaz Gazel" - Ayda Sonmez (Turkish, 1946)
16. "Ballali Madja" - Hamsa Khalafe and Alia Atia (African, circa 1950)
17. "Bina Adamu" - Hadija Binti Abdulla (East African/Swahili, early 1930s)
18. "Chant d'Invitation a la Dance" - Badolo, Maboudana (Middle Congo, 1933)
19. "Miverena Rahavana" - Hirain-Drazaivelo, Noforonin-Dratsiambakaina, Christine Zanany (Madagascar, 1931)
20. "Title in Hindustani" - Miss Nilam Bai (Hindustani Indian, 1928)
21. "Title in Burmese" - Yadana Myit (Burmese, early 1930s)
22. "Hat Du" - Co Ba-Thinh, Kham-Thien (Vietnamese, 1930)
23. "Lei E" - Emma Bush with Johnny Noble and his Hawaiian Music (Hawaiian, late 1920s)
24. "Chant D'Amour" - Chants Populaires Tahitens (Tahitians, 1931)