A Tangent About Tennis’ Young & Old.

16 02 2012

I spent most of yesterday driving around in the rain and listening to Tennis’ sophomore album, Young & Old. The music itself is perfectly enjoyable, still rife with jangling pop riffs & happy keyboards & all those Annette Funicello feelings I’m addicted to. My head wants so badly to bob away & dream of far away lands with my lover, but the lyrics tell a completely different story this time around. Cape Dory was a new romance to get lost in, an adventure full of butterflies, ON THE HIGH SEA! But the vacation is over on Young & Old. It sounds like, the first week of getting back from a trip. Your mind is still on holiday, rapt in sun-soaked daydreams, but you’re back; back to making the office coffee & questioning your relationship & worrying about the future of the planet & shit.

I appreciate Tennis’ more adult (for lack of a better word, I mean, let’s be real, Tennis is the #whitepeopleproblems of music) themes on this album but it just doesn’t quite match up. Musically, I’m still on a beach but lyrically, I’m a little lugubrious & confused. I’m still probably going to listen to it quite a bit though, mostly because that last sentence is also a great metaphor for my life from time to time.

My favorite song on the album (after “Origins”, which is the obvious stand out of the track list) is called “Robin”. There’s something about the melody of it that really, really reminds me of the song “Love” from Disney’s (coincidently) Robin Hood. This is important because Robin Hood is my favorite Disney movie & Robin the fox was my first big crush, right before 1963 Paul McCartney (I’ve always led a very rich fantasy life, you guys).

Here you can compare the two songs, because I love you like that:

Tennis’ “Robin”

George Bruns’ “Love”

Don’t get me started on that “Love” dip.
I DIIIE for that song.
Anyway, back to Tennis…

Overall, I dig it.

Editor’s Note: I also love the track “Traveling”. :)


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Jarring: TV on the Radio

10 10 2008

The Jam: TV on the Radio’s Dear Science

Take one of the finest experimental bands and let it soak up some pop for two years.

Tastes A Lot Like: Indie 103.1 Jam- acceptable by the masses while still tasting a bit unique.

On August twenty-third, TV on the Radio released a much anticipated (well, I know I was excited) new album by the name of Dear Science. I got my hands on the album immediately but had a hard time deciding how I felt about it. My first thought: “Dude, did TVOTR collab’ with Chromeo?” I was put off by the electronic pop intifada, waiting for the album’s ambiently unsettling “Dreams” or an indie-rock-explosion showstopper like “Wolf Like Me”, neither of which came. Their previous albums all had tracks that absolutely blew me away whereas Dear Science just sounds like someone took the core of TVOTR and layered it with pop. “Crying” sounds like it should be on Fancy Footwork and “Family Tree” sounds like a Coldplay song. It’s TV on the Radio… but not.

To enjoy this album I have to look at it completely objectively and not compare it to their monumental albums such as Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes, which to this day still leaves me in awe. Looking at it like it’s the twelfth album on the Billboard 200, yeah, it’s a good album. I can put it on and dance a bit. It’s good for driving. But would I consider it a highlight of my Ipod? No.

I’m not necessarily bummed but I’m not impressed.

I read a review that basically said the album reminds them of a friend that they hadn’t seen for awhile and had definitely changed but still was the same person. I think that’s an accurate description. But those are the kinds of people you comment on Myspace because you don’t actually want to talk to them in real life. Sooooo… yeah…


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Jarring: Jenny Lewis

2 10 2008

The Jam: Jenny Lewis’ Acid Tongue

Take a brilliant mind covered in red locks and empty its contents. Add angelic, truth oozing vocals and smart words. Strain the century for the best musical styles. Mix with focus and Laurel Canyon parties. Stir in the simplicity found in the intricacies of life and squeeze out some genius to top it off. Wrap it up in cuteness.

Tastes a lot like: Jezebel Jam- it sounds like it’d be shameful but it’s just sweet and delicious with a slight bite of tart to keep you coming back for more.

Jenny Lewis is back with her second solo album, Acid Tongue, and proves again she is one of the most prolific and talented female songwriters of our time. Between her single-handed stints and her Rilo Kiley tours, she has released seven albums. SEVEN. Holy hell, she ain’t playin’. She is out to conquer indie-rock-folk and to be quite frank, I think she will.

Acid Tongue isn’t quite like Rabbit Fur Coat but it is absolutely captivating and definitely an amazing sophomore album. I couldn’t tell you which I prefer; one is smooth and dreamlike while the other is still sweet but with a whole lot of zing. I do have to say the variety of musical stylings featured on Acid Tongue are astounding. From knee-slapping country crooning to psychedelic guitar riffs to ragtime-esque piano plunkings, the album takes you all over the place. One might suspect such an eclectic collection of sounds to come off messy but it’s entirely cohesive, brought together by Lewis’ personality infused feminine vocals. Another amazing aspect of the album is the repertoire of more than respectable guest artists. Both sides of She & Him, M. Ward and Zooey Deschanel, add a helping hand as well as Elvis Costello, fellow Rilo Kiley vet Jason Boesel, Chris Robinson of the Black Crowes as well as her BF, Jonathan Rice. Jonathan also helped produce it alongside Rilo Kiley producer Jason Lader and Farmer Dave Scher. And her lyrics… oh, sheesh, forget about it. They are well crafted with an innate intelligence and beauty. They remind me of a pearl necklace (an actual pearl necklace you sick fucks- go watch pterodactyl porn)- the perfect words strung together so majestically to compliment the structure of her sound. She never comes off whiny or cheesy or anything except absolutely honest and raw and poetically poised. I personally love the title track, as she chastises herself for being a liar and sounds like a god damned angel. Oy vei, if only my confessions sounded so lovely.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I really don’t like many female singer/songwriters. For the most part I just can’t get into it- whether it is the subject matter or their voices, it just doesn’t fly with me. But Jenny Lewis is the quintessential female musician. She is strong yet graceful, showcasing her ideas and talents with a feminine force that demands respect and draws out the utmost of adoration.

Jenny Lewis is a dreamboat of musical genius.
End of story.
& I’ve been in her company: she is the sweetest thing this side of the candy isle.

Catch her on tour with Conor & the Mystic Valley Band or with Michael Runion or another Riloer, Pierre De Reeder, all this month.


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Jarring: Sveener and the Shmiel

11 09 2008

The Jam: David B. Sharp’s Sveener and the Shmiel

Take eighty minutes of dramedy. Mix with eccentric characters and stir in over one hundred and thirty special effects. Strain for skepticism. Sprinkle with whole doll limbs and psychedelic flashbacks. Serve with beer and cocopuffs.

Tastes a Lot Like: Jam that got fed-exed from your crazy ex-acid-freak aunt in South Dakota. There is no telling what it is made of, in fact it kind of weirds you out, but it hits the spot.

A couple weeks after my interview with Saint Motel was published, I was contacted to come review a film featuring the boys’ music. The film was David B. Sharp‘s long-awaited directorial debut, Sveener and the Shmiel. After watching the trailer, I really had no idea what to expect besides a very visually compelling feature. I mean, Sharp is an Emmy-award winning special effects artist.

But as I sat in the Cary Grant theatre at Sony, I found a lot more to enjoy of the movie than its ridiculous amount of effects- which range from practical FX to miniature effects to digital EFX shots. The story revolves around two brothers; the elder is the chronically downtrodden, angry and subsequently violent Sveener (played by Aaron Sharp) whose main responsibility is taking care of his mentally deficient but genuine and lovable younger brother, the Shmiel (played by Gavin Woodward). Much of the back-story is left to the imagination but we do know they live in a decrepit home together, completely littered with everything you can imagine- particularly an unusual amount of mannequins and baby doll parts which the Shmiel takes comfort in gnawing on- and don’t have jobs except finishing the rig they’re building in their backyard and hanging out in their unders, drinking copious cans of beer. Most of the conflict of the movie comes from the entrances of two love interests. Traci (played by Christine Woods) is another not-so-bright Crayola with a heart of gold with an affinity for chicken who leaves Shmiel smitten from the moment she freaks out in the stuck elevator. Just as Shmiel finds an object of affection, the crude Sveener gets deservingly shot down by Helen (played Demitra Tsioulous)- an opportunity-seizing con-lady with a noted rack. We are taken down the road with them both; Sveener, increasingly bitter about the Shmiel’s good fortune, gets swindled by the noxious minx Helen and delves into his inner psyche about his long running aggressive behavior. The Shmiel receives the love and acceptance he never got and is also able to reciprocate to a person in equal need of it- revealing an essential part of the human condition: the desire to love and to be loved.

I was especially taken by the sweetness of Woods’ performance. She was utterly winsome and earnest, melting my heart with nearly every poignantly childlike line. Her and Woodward’s performances were fabulous because as we all learned in Tropic Thunder:

Kirk Lazarus: Everybody knows you never go full retard.

Tugg Speedman: What do you mean?

Kirk Lazarus: Check it out. Dustin Hoffman, ‘Rain Man,’ look retarded, act retarded, not retarded. Count toothpicks to your cards. Autistic, sure. Not retarded. You know Tom Hanks, ‘Forrest Gump.’ Slow, yes. Retarded, maybe. Braces on his legs. But he charmed the pants off Nixon and won a ping-pong competition. That ain’t retarded. Peter Sellers, “Being There.” Infantile, yes. Retarded, no. You went full retard, man. Never go full retard. You don’t buy that? Ask Sean Penn, 2001, “I Am Sam.” Remember? Went full retard, went home empty handed…

Yes, they were implied retards but still relatable and entirely endearing.

The film as a whole is quite possibly one of the strangest movies I’ve ever seen. It had its confusing moments when the plot was slightly questionable but I was feeling something- either laughing or about to cry. And when I wasn’t immersed in emotion, I was sideswiped with flare-ups of special effects. If you can sustain the suspension of disbelief, you can become enveloped in the heartfelt characters as well as the astounding optical exposition. And then you also can bop your pretty little head to tunes from Saint Motel and Glen and the Sunshine Gang.

All in all, Sharp has effectively showcased his talents as a seasoned special effects artist while successfully branching into new territories all to a Silverlake-ish soundtrack. I say grab a j, your pals and blow your mind out on this trip of a flick.


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Jarring: Kimya Dawson

9 09 2008

The Jam: Kimya Dawson’s Alphabutt

Take everyone’s (un/)favorite irreverent indie folk singer. Add kazoos, blocks and xylophones. Hold on to outlandish, less-than-sung lyrics. Mix in infantile, mildy foul words. Serve with a grain of salt.

Tastes a lot like: Bubblegum Jam- Tastes okay when you’re ten but it’s still hard to swallow.

I have enjoyed Kimya’s music career. She has carved out entire quirky niche for herself and I have defended her to no end. I respect people who find ways to express themselves, even if they are not conventionally talented. From the Moldy Peaches to her solo albums, I have always found her to be simply insightful. Alphabutt is also very… quirky. Yes, it is pure Dawson- cheeky, crude, obscure. Unfortunately, this is not a quirkiness I embrace. You may be saying, “Yeah, but it’s a children’s album.” Well, YEAH, I GET IT. But even looking at it as a children’s album, if I had children, I don’t think I would play this for them. Children already have enough bullshit coming out of their mouths without Kimya telling them B is Butt, C is for Cat Butt, D is for Doo-Doo, E is for Elephant do-do, F is for Fart, G is for Gorilla Fart. When she is not talking like a four year old, she is talking about things that are inconsequential for four year olds- for example in “Sunbeams and Some Beans”:
“I do what I do because there is a need
And a hunger created by corporate greed.
See, there is a surplus of food in this country
And no body should ever go to sleep hungry.”

Yes, that is AN EXCELLENT thing to tell children. I don’t disagree that the message is important and children should be taught to appreciate what we have. Children also should know about the student loans and finding their passions, but at the same time, she turns around and dumbs the children down with things like:
“Pee-pee in the potty,
starts as milk from mommy,
then that goes through your body
and then you make a pee-pee.”

The target audience for this album is blurred. Two year olds? Eight year olds? I can’t decipher it.

Strangely enough, the album is meeting some great reviews. Granted, it has some classically charming Kimya tracks such as “I Love You Sweet Baby” as she coos about her day with her daughter. But for the most part, I really don’t get it.

I’ve been listening to Alphabutt around the clock for weeks now, and singing the songs to my daughter, who enjoys their off-kilter, jangly humor even though she’s too small to get the words yet.

- from BoingBoing.net

From Pitchfork (HA) to Rolling Stone, they all seem to enjoy it. I imagine they are young, hip, parents who drink red wine and listen to Radiohead on vinyl after tucking their bundles of joy away for the night in their Ikea Hermelin crib. Not twenty-two year old whiskey slammers with compulsions for late nights in seedy Los Angeles lounges lusting after musicians and witticisms.

I will say I support Alphabutt over Telletubbies and Barney any day.
But my vote is to stick to Sesame Street.


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Jarring: Dri

15 08 2008

The Jam: Dri’s Smoke Rings

Take that feminine voice from The Anniversary. Add Art in Manilla. Bring to the boil with fluid beats. Mix in memories of the tropics. Smooth textured vocal stylings. Add to mix and stir with fringey melodies. Mash up good “girl” lyrics. Bottle up with a pretty face and a true stage presence.

Tastes a Lot Like: Passionfruit Jam- you want to say you’ve tried it before but you never have. And when you do, you love it for it’s surprising consistency and menagerie of unexpected flavors.

A great many bands are discovered when you are not looking for them. Last week I attended a Conor and the Mystic Valley Band concert. I was intrigued by their opening act- a pretty blonde singing passionately behind a keyboard. I stopped her after the show to express my enjoyment and she graciously said thank you and handed me her new full length, Smoke Rings.

Adrienne Verhoeven used to be apart of Vagrant’s The Anniversary. The band broke up for “a number of (undisclosed) reasons” in 2004. Adrienne ran around with Orenda Fink and Neva Dinvoa for awhile before compiling a collection of her own work.

Smoke Rings is a compelling collection in the fact that it is consistent yet exciting. Each song is definitely a part of the entire entity- all have edgy rhythms and heartwarming, layered vocals. The opening track “Two are One” is accented with a number of random beats- such as clinking on glasses- by the third you are taken to India and then suddenly you’re in a 1950′s dreamscape. She has mastered an art of adding influential elements without losing a core sound. Her lyrics go from poignant and heart-breaking to youthful and fun-loving. She’s never the “girly” singer but still touches upon a specific sense of femininity. She ends the album with the title track, a lovely rendition of the 1930′s classic, “Smoke Rings”.

It’s been in my cd player since last Tuesday.
That says something in this day and age of ipods.

Check out Dri on tour with Conor and the Mystic Valley Band.


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Jarring: Conor Oberst

7 08 2008

The Jam: Conor Oberst, self-titled

Measure expectations into a large bowl. Strain old pretenses. Add maturity and mix well. Stir in some mysticism and Mexico. Sprinkle in new faces. Store for a month in the winter. Add mellifluousness and congruity. Check for consistency and texture among the batches. Pour into clean, simple jars with clean, simple labels.

Tastes a lot like: Peachberry Jam- It’s your classic berry jam you’ve loved all growing up but with a refreshing, tasteful twist.

After shacking up with The Mystic Valley Band in Tepoztlán, Morales, Mexico, Conor Oberst has released his first album since ninety-six out from under the perennially productive Bright Eyes banner. This past winter, Conor and fellow musicians Jason Boesel, Taylor Hollingsworth, Nate Walcott, Nik Freitas and Macey Taylor locked themselves into a make-shift studio in a villa in Mexico for a month. The outcome is a harmonious and toe-tapping collection of Neil Young-esque tracks.
Touching on the sheer fact the album was recorded about two thousand miles away from the epicenter of the Conor Oberst franchise, this album has a refreshing, nomadic, free-spirited quality. From Sausalito‘s Californian surf style easy living to the obvious good ole’ country tunes like I Don’t Want to Die. Hell, NYC- Gone, Gone is all about drifting all over the place. You get the sense of a man who wants to experience the world and walks of life- a happy ending for the sad little boy who used to indulge us with displays of depression and cynicism. Yep, it’s good to know Conor has grown up. He sounds like a man with an unwavering sense of confidence and wisdom who has finally come into his own in the world, making the most of it all and enjoying it.
And enjoying it with others. There is a euphonic feeling that hangs in the air with this album which I attribute to the Mystic Valley Band and the close quarters. Looking at Conor’s discography, “harmonious” is a word that could be used very sparingly outside of describing the actual arrangement of music. The general feeling tended to weigh heavy on your heart whereas this album is one you could throw on during a road trip without killing the whole vibe and someone starting to weep from behind their drug store Ray-Ban knock offs.
Look, it’s no Wide Awake, I ain’t gonna lie. But it is consistant with the more recent folk-county releases. It’s not even fair to be comparing this album to Bright Eyes… well, sort of. But hey, I’m willing to give Conor a clean slate, especially when he gives us quality jams.

Conor and the Mystic Valley Band are touring as we speak !!!


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Jarring: Dr. Dog.

19 07 2008

The Jam: Dr. Dog’s Fate

Pick over fresh frequencies and rinse under cool water. Lightly crush sun-ripened berries with poetic aphorisms and kind ideology. Stir in the sugar, lemon juice, simplicity and new sounds. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring often with warmhearted melodies and clean beats. Share with loved ones.

Tastes a Lot Like: Raspberry-Lemon Jam- sweet but not without a perfectly delectable amount of sour. Tastes like a summer day with friends, laughing from noon through dusk until it ends under the stars with a couple joints, light philosophical banter and a doo-wop sesh or two around the campfire. Yum.

With just enough time to soak up Passed Away, Volume One and some sunshine, Dr. Dog is releasing their fifth full length Fate- a fitting title for the album that was heralded as “the album they always wanted to make”.
If we look at the progression of Dr. Dog, the jump from 2007’s We All Belong to 2008’s Fate sounds like a small one- especially in comparison to say their first full length Toothbrush to their second, Easy Beat. But why mess with a good thing? Fate is consistent with Dr. Dog’s nineteen-sixties-flash-back sound they perfected on We All Belong.
The lo-fi static that is prominent of their early work has dissipated completely. One might be afraid that this would affect their music, which it has in a very positive way. Dr. Dog has embraced modern aesthetics to accentuate their vintage sound. Lush with incredible Beatle-esque harmonies, they pair such clean, soothing vocals with clean tracks full of strings, horns and organs… you know, your basic Dr. Dog entrée. Which is exactly why I listen to them- because they sound like Dr. Dog. They’ve done right by themselves: boosted the quality without losing the ‘tude.
One of my favorite things about Dr. Dog’s music is their portrayal of problems and solutions. There is always a sense of comfort in everything. In a completely unobtrusive fashion, they present a set of beliefs and a way of living- live, love, be happy, empathetic and wise. Yes, life will always have its fair share of altercations but there is always an answer and there are no absolutes. An entire song about a disappointing friendship ends on the note that it is still a choice, “Are you my curse or are you my friend?” Talk of one being away is only teamed with the expression of their hearts being inseparable. Or God calling him son only to tell him he isn’t his son at all with such a sense of love it resonates true wisdom. Everything is and isn’t and in the end, it’s all right because somewhere there is a creek you and your loves can go barbeque.
Set to be released on the 22nd, Fate is accompanied by a special edition 7-inch when bought at a wide array of record stores across the country. Fun fact: The album cover art is directly correlated with a picture of Bonnie and Clyde! Wowzers! Dr. Dog is also touring vigorously over the next couple months- staying in the US up until November when they cross the pond.

For an intimate look at Dr. Dog, check out my interview with Taxi in March.


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Jarring: The Dark Knight.

17 07 2008

The Jam: The Dark Knight

With an IMAX, start with tons of potential and high expectations. Add two of Hollywood’s most talented men, a step-up from Katie Holmes and that same charming smile of Nick Naylor. Add some film alumni; mix well. Seep in defined acting chops. Add action; cut it up. Suspend disbelief; stir constantly. Boil with disappointing dialogue and cheesy, unbelievable monologues. Process for two hours and thirty-two minutes before setting the jars out on the shelves to be ferociously consumed by the masses.

Tastes a Lot Like: Bartlett Harlequin Jam- everything about it is seemingly delicious and then you have to go and add those damn fake, contrived Maraschino cherries.

Let’s start with Batman Begins. Well written and excellently executed, the film upped the ante in the latex smothered superhero department. Christian Bale is by far one of the supreme and dedicated talents in Hollywood (hello, did anyone see the The Machinist?) and brought a true sense of soul to the identity conflicted protagonist Bruce Wayne… not to mention a gym bag full of good looks. With a foundation like Begins, it’s hard to imagine its successor being anything but stellar.
The Dark Knight tells the tale of Batman and his escapades with the Joker. When I say “escapades” this includes a number of intense action sequences taking place in the streets and (watch out!) the sky. Not being much of an action fan myself, they were still incredible. It also has exactly what you want in a cast. Christian Bale still looks good in any suit from Bat to Gucci and performs so wholeheartedly it resonates within his relationships with all the characters. That carton of lukewarm milk casually known as the beard of Tom-Kat was rightfully replaced with a woman of substance and ability- Maggie Gyllenhaal. Aaron Eckhart is as honorably heartwarming as ever (mostly). Morgan Freeman and Michael Cane are genuinely talented gentlemen, as always. Heath was obviously the best in show. Maniacal and creepy, he was the epitome of The Joker. From his disgusting mannerisms to his eerie cadence, he filled the purple suit first worn by Jack Nicholson (much to his dismay) with an extra ounce of evil. All the performances were great- especially given the material.
Yes, that was an allusion to the fact that director Christopher Nolan and brother Jonathan are not writers. Look, I know I’m going into this not being able to believe every motorcycle/bus/plane/ferry/starship-cruiser chase I see. But if you have believable characters, I will totally eat up any technological tomfoolery scheme or military machine mumbojumbo. Unfortunately, the dialogue was cliché and there were a number of moments where more than a few of the audience members flat laughed out loud. I particularly liked the “We’ve got company!” sort of fillers and cheap speeches. I expected more from the good citizens of Gotham.
Besides the lame convos and the fact it is about two and a half hours long, it’s good. If you liked the first one, you should go. If you’re looking to get laid, this is a good date movie- you got your action, you got a nice little romantic through line, you got Gary Oldman; you’re set. Unless it’s some liberal babe who hates… Gary Oldman. Because no self-respecting human being hates Batman. And that’s a fact.


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Jarring: Girl Talk.

16 07 2008

The Jam: Girl Talk’s Feed the Animals

On a Macbook, combine puree of top forty with remaining elements of vintage beats. Crush and stir in unexpected nineties hits. Boil vigorously with indie rock, stirring frequently with some eighties hairbands, for fifty-three minutes or until the jam is a set. Stir for 2 to 5 minutes while getting naked and then proceed to invite your audience to dance on stage with you. Enjoy.

Tastes a lot like: Blackberry Jam- unexpected but not inaccessible, unique yet familiar, perfect for the summer and oh, so dependably delicious.

Once upon a time there was this kid who used to be in a noise band, smashing up televisions who became a student of Case Western Reserve University with a laptop. This seems normal and relatively uninteresting but when combined with the crucial factoid of his name- Gregg Gillis- things come into perspective. And maybe you haven’t heard of Gregg but you probably have heard a lot about Girl Talk. And if you haven’t heard about Girl Talk, well, get out from under that rock.
Gregg Gillis is Girl Talk and Girl Talk is a man and his laptop making ridiculously lush and vibrant mash-ups. So, basically, he’s a DJ. Only he’s also one of the most prolific and talented experimentalists in the music industry right now. In 2002, he released his first album with Illegal Art and now six years later he has released his fourth full length, Feed The Animals.
Feed The Animals is absolutely filthy. The adjective usually has a negative connotation but in this context, it is in the highest of regards. Feed The Animals is such a outrageous collection of mash-ups and samples it is hard to decipher it without listening to it in its entirely. The first listen is a lot like taking a machine gun to your ears. You are hit with so many different sounds so quickly from so many eras that you are left defenseless. There is no point in even trying to comprehend it. Just accept the fact that in an hour you were just assaulted with Ace of Base and Cassidy, Rod Stewart and Ray-J, Quad City Djs and Question Mark & the Mysterians, Eminem and Yael Naim. And you liked it. A lot. Hold on… is that Rick Springfield?! With Soulja Boy?! Yeah, yeah it is. For each song, Gregg uses at least a dozen elements from other songs ranging from hip-hop to oldies to indie rock. On his previous album Night Ripper, he took in over six thousand samples from one hundred and sixty seven artists. He uses a calculator and a wav editor to concoct these hip-pop-classic-rockin’ orgies.
With Feed The Animals, Gregg is following the newly paved path that Radiohead recently led us down with the pay-what-you-want release. The album is intended to be listened to as if it is an entire set so if you pay a measly five bucks or more, you not only get the individual files but you get a seamless version of the entire album which is invaluable when it comes to parties, road trips or getting naked.
This album is not for the faint of heart, the closed of mind or the forgoers of fun. If you’re down to skip the Adderall and be immersed in a smorgasbord of surprise sounds, I promise you will not be disappointed. I would go as far to say that you will probably get your jollies off just thinking about that Kanye-Blackstreet mash-up.
Wait… is that Paula Cole?!
She hasn’t sounded this good since Joey loved Pacey.

Check out the new album at Myspace.com/GirlTalk.
Purchase the new album at Illegal Art.


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