The opening track, “They’re On To Me” is a formidable opener, even if the tone of the song is reminiscent of Mayer’s breakout hit “No Such Thing.”  There are plenty of other tracks with “radio-friendly” written all over them such as “Holding On” or “Fascinate You.”

But Ari truly shines on tracks that take him away from the commonplace cookie cutter singer-songwriter fare.  “Not For Long” is energetic and doubles as a good toe-tapper. “Consistency” is also full of energy, complete with a horn section.  Better yet, on it Ari explores his entire vocal range and mixes up the song with his varying degrees of tenor and soprano.  He likewise utilizes his talented chords on “When Everything Seems Wrong” which has a slow country flavor.  Speaking of slower songs, the highlight of the album is “Strangers Again.”  It is a simplistic song but captures Ari’s roots of acoustic based singer-songwriter style.

As for Ari’s influences, there are plenty of hints within the scope of the album.  “Anne Marie” has an opening that could be ripped right out of a psychedelic Beatles number.  The closing song, “Someone To Tell,” sounds like a subtle ode to the Eagles with a pleasing vocal harmony.  His storytelling technique of music writing throughout the disc could also be traced to those two previously sited influences, as well as Paul Simon or Dave Matthews, also personal heroes of Ari.

Overall, the album is not a bad effort, but it just doesn’t differentiate itself from other singer-songwriter releases I’ve heard over the last three years.  The evidence of Ari’s talent is better found on his self-released albums, but you can’t fault him for wanting to taste the success of Mayer or Mraz.

The best songs on 1st Infantry are the gritty tracks where The Alchemist sounds more comfortable. “Tick Tock” featuring Nas and Prodigy is a classic track that proves to be the hardest and best song on the album. The soulful, 70’s style loop creates a pimped-out gangsta atmosphere. Singing the melody, Nas handles the hook, “…Tick Tock this is for my n*ggaz in the Bridge, blocks / Comin’ through better hide your wristwatch  / Because n*ggaz well live they sh*ts pop / Hey hey / Tick Tock this is for my hoes make your hips rock / Light a L baby let the Crys’ pop / Get your Tick Tock from this hip hop, any day…” Having Nas and Prodigy on the same track, spitting gritty rhymes is simply wonderful. “Boost The Crime Rate” features Sheek and J-Hood rhyming gritty, criminal-minded lyrics over a truly ill beat. The electronic melody gives the track a sinister feel as Sheek steals the song with hardcore rhymes. The opening track, “Dead Bodies” features Prodigy (of Mobb Deep) and The Game (of G-Unit). The beat thumps hard as an electronic melody is added along with vocal scratching. Prodigy and The Game work well together. Right from the start, you can tell this is a gritty album. Prodigy rhymes, “…N*gga I tie your wife to a chair and blow that b*tch up / You better fire-proof your crib cuz I’ll blow that sh*t up / I’m about crime for real, this rap sh*t is luck…” There is no holding back and the hardcore expression is an essential element in hip-hop. Lloyd Banks (of G-Unit) gives a solid performance on “Bangers”. With his low vocal tone, he sings the hook reminiscent of his hit “Fire”. Devin The Dude adds diversity with his wonderful performance on “Where Can We Go” about a secret and adulterous affair. The tight 70’s style groove gives the song a dirty and classic feeling. M.O.P. give their usual adrenaline frenzied performance on “Stop The Show”.

A handful of tracks take some time to grow on the listener. The lead single, “Hold You Down” does have a smooth R&B hook by Nina Sky but the verses by Prodigy and Illa Ghee make the song enjoyable. “It’s a Craze” with Mobb Deep has all of the ingredients of a dope track but it just does not hit as hard as it should. “D Block To QB” featuring Havoc, Noyd, Styles, and J-Hood should also be an incredible collaboration but ends up being merely decent. Other passable tracks include “For The Record” with Dilated Peoples and “The Essence” featuring The Lox.

Some songs can be automatically categorized as filler. “Different Worlds” is a novelty track where Alchemist raps along side Twin from Infamous Mobb about how different their lifestyles were. While Twin was robbing and selling drugs, Alchemist was nice and paid attention in school. The song is entertaining for one listen but the novelty soon wears off since Twin is a much more experienced emcee. The sad “Strength Of Pain” features the singing of Chinky for an entire track. Unfortunately, the song disrupts the flow of the album. Alchemist attempts to satisfy the Southern hip-hop nation with “Pimp Squad” with T.I. and P$C, but it results in being filler. The skits on 1st Infantry are somewhat clever but they quickly become skip-worthy after the first listen.

After many years and multiple labels, Alchemist’s debut solo LP 1st Infantry is a solid product with some minor flaws. Even though 1st Infantry has a solid guest list with minor variety, it would have been cool to hear some more diverse collaboration. Devin The Dude and Dilated Peoples add a different flavor to the mix but Alchemist has done amazing work with Ghostface Killah, Kool G Rap, Snoop Dogg, and Ras Kass. With more diversity, the album would be much more entertaining. Queens has been the backbone of his work and the borough is represented fully with multiple appearances. Mobb Deep and Nas always shine bright on Alchemist’s production and nothing has changed on this LP. 1st Infantry is an album that grows on the listener with time. When Alchemist did production on albums for other artists, his songs stood out and instantly satisfied. On 1st Infantry, the loops and beats tend to creep into the listener’s mind instead of making an instant hit. This aspect gives the LP a longer replay value. It is a generally satisfying collection of collaborations with some surprises and some filler tracks. Alchemist has proven that he could produce a solid LP; knowing that 1st Infantry is Alchemist’s first solo LP concoction, his future musical elixirs will be worth taking.

Though most known for his fifties hits (Tutti Fruity, Long Tall Sally, etc.) Little Richard Penniman is the possessor of one of the most exciting rock and roll voices of all time. The power, the energy, not to mention that otherworldly shriek sets Little Richard apart from all of the other fifties rockers. No one came close until James Brown and Otis Redding hit their respective peaks in the mid sixties. Interestingly, the songs on this CD come from the mid ’60’s, a period in Little Richard’s career when he was trying to make a comeback in the rock world. To keep up, he had to change with the times. Little did anyone know that he was as good at creating the type of soul Redding and Brown did as he was his old style fifties stuff.

Before the fifties closed, Penniman had abruptly given up his rock and roll career for a life as a preacher due to his inner turmoil about worldly success. Problem was, his aspirations in the ministry were leaving Penniman penny-less. Even though he had offers from several labels to record his gospel songs, the subsequent recordings either sold poorly or were so cheaply made they never even hit the music business radar. Penniman was at a crossroads. Soon after the Beatles hit (and covered his old hits) he decided to go back to what he knew best, rock and roll. After a few false starts (rerecordings of his old hits done on the cheap) and marginal new recordings, he hooked up with his old friend from Specialty Records, Larry Williams (a hitmaking artist himself), and made these recordings.

With Williams producing and contributing songs and other talent like Johnny Guitar Watson playing alongside, Penniman is full of fire and energy. Maybe the desperation of having much of his recent output ignored made him decide to channel everything he could into these songs. Though these too were ignored upon release thanks to changing times and false expectations of his output, these cuts are some of the most blistering ’60’s soul ever recorded. He is simply on point, and in a way few artists ever have been. Among the songs here are a transcendent recording of the Barret Strong song “Money” and an excellent song called “Function at the Junction” that should have been a monster hit. Some excellent bonus tracks from the same time period are included as well. Though it is all Richard here, he has modified his style from ’50’s rocker to ’60’s deep soul singer excellently and sounds extremely vital and relevant – as opposed to an over-the-hill artist trying to make a comeback. Although these tracks never accomplished Penniman’s goal of reigniting his rock career, they stand as a testament to his varied musical talents.  Both fans of Little Richard’s and those who just want to hear one of the best vintage soul albums ever should check this out.

Though they currently call New York home, band members hail from all over the world. Sciubba, though born in Rome, was raised in France and Germany.  Bassist Jesse Murphy is from California, keyboardist Didi Gutman grew up in Germany, and drummer Aaron Johnston is from Kansas City. They each bring a little bit of the music with which they grew up, merging them together with a distinctively cosmopolitan New York sound. Sciubba particularly draws from her background, singing lyrics in French, German, Spanish, Italian, and English, while Gutman’s expertise on the keys is reminiscent of some of the best DJ/producers in Europe.

Brazilian Girls are primarily a live band, and there’s always a risk when such a band creates a studio album.  Can a CD stay true to the organic, earthy feel of a live performance?  Will slick production value override the true essence of the music?  Well, it seems Brazilian Girls have managed to successfully translate the live experience to a digital one.

For a debut, this record is impressive.  They’ve taken the less conventional approach to studio production, by mixing their live instrumentation with pre-produced beats and samples. In addition, their global mix essentially guarantees that no two tracks sound the same.  The result is slightly paradoxical, slightly schizophrenic.  The music is diverse and each track is unique, but they still manage to blend into each other perfectly.

The first track, “Homme”, features Sciubba in the first of her foreign languages, and the opening notes bring to mind a film noir score. The pace picks up a bit towards the end before just falling off, but without sounding too abrupt. If there’s one thing the Girls have down perfectly, it’s deftly maneuvering each song through its denouement in such a way that the next track seems to almost just pick up where the previous one left off. “Don’t Stop” is a more upbeat second track with a feel-good beat, while the chorus is fun and trippy. The Girls slow it down again with “Lazy Lover”, a song that definitely lives up to its name.  It has the lilting laziness of an island summer and invites daydreams of dozing away in hammocks on white sandy beaches.

Brazilian Girls are exceptionally skilled at conjuring up appropriate imagery for each of their tracks, partly due to the organic, slightly improvisational quality of their music. On the playful “Pussy”, the vaguely reggae-esque beat mixes well with the ingenuous lyrics, giving off an impression of sheer fun and, well, irie. “Dance til the Morning Sun” feels a bit like they did just that (and with a lot of party favors), as the music weaves back and forth between harmony and dissonance. It has the slight hint of a claustrophobic dance club at 4 am, and the feeling like it could go on forever. Each song has its strength and the relative variety amongst the tracks ensures that everyone will find something they’ll appreciate.  There are a few weaknesses for sure, but they’re practically negligible.
On “Corner Store”, the track drags just a bit as the horns blaze long and heavy, but Sciubba’s smoky vocals keep the bump going to the end.  But then finally on the beautiful-arranged and perfectly-placed “Ships in the Night”, the gentle lilt and slow melody have the effect of a lullaby – a fitting end to this CD-long party.

The reason for this is that already existing reviews of previous material are no less than glowingly favourable towards the producer, and part of a vast chain of arrows pointing me in Prefuse’s direction. Hopefully a reaction along similar lines to my own is something I can encourage in readers of this review, and the reason for this, is that, quite simply, in Surrounded By Silence, Herren has created a rather stunning record.

Intended as ‘radio station of the mind of Scott Herren’ project – that is to say, a definitive document of artists he respects and loves – the album is put together in an manner so elegant that it sounds like a combination of Prefuse73 and a collection of intelligent and forward-thinking hip hop (think K-OS hip-hop, not Eminem hip-hop), put together by a variety of respectable and established artists in the field.  It also flows in a radio-play list fashion, which, of course, helps the fluidity of the pieces as well as the imagery.

Among the collaborators here are Aesop Rock, Ghostface, Beans and The Books (if this isn’t impressive enough, the list of collaborators that didn’t make the final cut of the album includes Four Tet and Diplo), and although it is an obvious comment to make, each adds a wonderfully idiosyncratic ingredient into a recipe that is otherwise solely Herren’s – the makings of a meal fit for a king. The aforementioned The Books – the superlative cello, guitar, mandolin, banjo, plastic drain pipes and laptop-based duo from Massachusetts – add their sparkle to the absolutely heartbreaking ‘Pagina Dos’, which comes across like a collaboration between Four Tet, the Notwist and a more hip-hop driven Selected Ambient Works-era Aphex Twin. Likewise, the drifting, ethereal voices of Claudia and Alejandra Deheza on ‘Pastel Assassins’ make for some simultaneously evocative and booty-shakin’ (again, K-OS, not Eminem) offerings. ‘Sabbatical With Opinions’ (featuring Aesop Rock) moves like a Boards of Canada or cLOUDDEAD-type affair, all drifting synths and occasional rhythmic breaks cutting across the beats, while following track ‘Just The Thought’ (featuring Masta Killa and GZA) is a more driving matter, seizing beats and enthusing, poetic raps over dreamlike tunes.

Taking the opportunity to dig further into Herren’s respectable back catalogue would be suggestion worth heeding if, like my interest in this record, this is more-or-less a first introduction to the man. However, that said, I am convinced that Surrounded By Silence is a record that will please fans both old and new. Well done man.

Although every track is completely different, Garnier succeeds in creating a separate world for this his 4th album.  True, the subject matter swings all over the place: the odd retro futurism cover art heavily resembles Fritz Lang’s Metropolis (a movie made in the 20’s describing the future as involving a lot of robots and showbiz numbers).  “(I Wanna Be) Waiting for my Plane” is a portrait of a man who wants to erase his mind in addiction.  “Jeux D’enfants” heavily samples French school children playing, laughing, and crying.  In “First Reaction (V2)”, a man recounts a horrible dream in which a protest turns into a bloodbath.  Even though Garnier’s scope is so large and even though the array of emotions he presents us is so wide, the overall impact of the album is very unified.  Garnier seems to be exploring the tragedy inherent in human nature.  Perhaps a secondary theme is that sci-fi mainstay of humans vs. machines.

When the journey begins, we know that it’s going to be epic.  The first track features heavily echoing voice samples which slowly relate the following: “Traveling / the images keeps coming back / so restless / all the rest is abstract … just dreaming.”  Meanwhile, hushed computer choirs wait in expectation, studio hiss weaves in and out, and weird keyboard noodling gives us a feeling that something big is going to happen.  Then the flagship track, “9.01-9:06,” kicks in.  Supported by raw cello chords, distorted glitches, and computer game synths that waver on their sustains, we can almost see the earth slowly rise over the moon’s horizon in classic 8 bit graphics.  This track really rocks, in a weird, alien jazz parlor sort of way.  Similarly, “Barbiturk Blues” also gives off a slightly lounge atmosphere, populated congruously by enormous sampled beats, all metallic and hollow, and by keyboards you’d expect to hear in an expensive andcheesy New York City bar.

Garnier has by now proven that he’s exceptional at creating his own moods.  He successfully warps around the globe, delivering us little pieces of life in the universe.  In a veritable melting pot of genres, Garnier not only navigates from one mood to the next, but also creates postmodern amalgamations of sound.  The mournful piano and Spanish acoustic guitar suddenly give way to the bracing entrance of Sangoma Everett’s wailing vocals.  The listener is suddenly hearing the blues of the entire earth laid bare.  But the computers strike back.  A distorted, menacing overdub dominates the faux-club “Controlling the House Pt. 2”.  Likewise, the disturbing “(I Wanna Be) Waiting for My Plane” is very reminiscent of Moby’s synth-punk circa Animal Rights.

While some of this album is dark and creepy, on the whole we come away feeling that something grand and mysterious has happened.  Garnier’s story, although vague, is definitely worth hearing.

She’s a gifted, if discontented storyteller traveling from one song to the next as if it’s just another page in her skittish, rhythmic tale.  The title track is a slow dance of fateful lyrics amid a violin-driven chorus.  It’s a moody opening for the unsettling bell chime in “Polly,” supported by an inspiring trumpet finale, a salute you might say, as she trudges on.  In “Road Bin” she grooves to her idea of dangerous love in a bluesy tune with lines like “does it have to be from far away / when you love me till you’re bones / do we always have to hide away / in a road bin full of stones.”  Floating along to the troubling “End of May” we encounter a ghostly visage of dark imagery, complete with a hypnotic choir for this conjuring account.

Taking a break from the dreary and depressive, the album veers into some witty character with the playful and infectious chamber chorus of “Sailor & Widow” and the swooning, surf induced “Sit in the Sun.”  Both are in good placement for the aural opus, “Right Now & Right Here.”  Shimmering with a jazzy piano beat and tender lyrics, her breathy voice is absolutely appealing, capped with ocean waves upon unexpected string and choir arrangements.  It’s truly awe-inspiring, as it takes my breath to the last note.  While the strings and horns in the cinematic “Seventeen” and “Spanish Song Bird” each seem to come from the soundtrack of an old black and white movie (I’m thinking Roman Holiday).  They’re an easy waltz and step as we return to earlier chapters with the mellow “By the Cathedral” and finish with the eerily repetitive “Ending Song,” in which she sings, “funny day, no one is here / in the morning rain, there are no clouds / and I hear… follow me.”

The French residing Keren Ann Zeidel (her full name) shoots for the moon and lands on the sun.  This avant-garde siren channels evocative storytelling with a talent for penning spooky lullabies. It’s a surreal treat.

In This Honest Age, Woodhouse has created an album that is refreshing (blech, critical catch-all phrase that is used ad nauseam… sorry) and impressive, particularly because as an unsigned artist, she is as indie as they come.  The production on the album is near flawless, which is feat enough.  She caught my attention almost immediately, as she bares an almost uncanny resemblance to one of my favorite singer-songwriters, Jennifer Knapp.  She utilizes the same guitar-driven melodies, uptempo disposition, and improvisational vocals.  Ah yes, the vocals.  Woodhouse’s voice rings out with an acrobatic flair that is just subdued enough to avoid the showy pretension that plagues most R&B singers (you know what I mean, “Super Bowl National Anthem performer syndrome”).  Her music seems like singer-songwriter, in that it is driven by vocals, with instrumentation that, although good, always takes a back seat.  However, there is still plenty going on in the background, so I’m tempted to classify it as more of a jazz-infused guitar pop.  Think of a mix of Jennifer Knapp, Jonatha Brooke, and Joni Mitchell, with plenty of scat thrown in for good measure.  The latter is the element that really grabs your attention and separates Woodhouse from the rest of the up-and-comers in her genre.  What’s nice is that it really jells with her seemingly effortless delivery.  Instead of forcing out scat lines with Armstrong or Fitzgerald-like moxie, she evenly and fluidly transitions between lyrics and prattling turns of phrase, all with seamless ease.

The album itself is good, if not a little top-heavy and somewhat uniform.  There are not any weak songs per se, but by the end of the album, they tend to run together.  I would love to see some more experimentalism take place with the instrumentation.  Adding a chamber pop feel would be nice, with plenty of openings for some wind or reed instruments.  It could be that I’m still just hooked on Stars, and can’t get away from my current appetite for good chamber pop, but something more is needed to push this album over the edge into the territory of spectacular.  I have every confidence that Woodhouse can do so if she desires.  Her talent is too visible to doubt it.  The best tracks are the first two, “Breaking Point” and “Your Window.”  The latter is what sold me on the album, with its sultry, sensual scat (try and imagine scat as sensual if you can… Jen pulls it off).  The rest of the songs are full of graceful acoustic guitar runs and evocative vocals.  Although she is completely independent, you can purchase This Honest Age at Woodhouse’s website, and if you value my judgment one iota, go do it.

Though Winters cites bands such as Blondie, Nick Lowe and Elvis Costello as being influential on her style, from the very first song on the album, “England,” the listener immediately conjures the images of Nico and Petula Clark, whom Winters sounds like more. Despite the naïveté of her vocals and her breezy but bittersweet pop music, she takes on weighty issues. The second track, “Holocaust,” is about exactly what you would think – the Holocaust. Winter sings with childlike simplicity, “I know it’s not over / I know there will be more / I wish it was just a story.”

On the remainder of the album, as far as lyrical content goes, Winters conveys her own personal loss, pain and loneliness, mostly in terms of romantic relationships. “One of These Days”, a blithe and upbeat pop song that belies it’s darker content about the end of a relationship, even utilizes lyrics of “la la la la la, la la la la.” The next song, “Afterwards,” is less cluttered, and unlike the other songs which featured a full band, this one is just Winters on vocals with some light guitar and keyboards behind her. This song focuses on the aftermath of a relationship.

These are followed by a song sung entirely in French, “Qu’est-ce que tu fait?” This loosely translates into “What are you going to do?” It sounds like a happy tune, and unless the listener knows French, they will never know what she’s singing about. But if this song is like any of her English ones, with sanguine melodies that contradict the stark lyrical content, then this tune is likely just as somber.

The eighth track, “I Hope You’re Happy,” picks up the beat a little, especially compared to other tracks, by featuring the drums more prominently. Lyrically, the content is similar to the other songs about having trouble moving on from the end of a relationship. Winters asks her ex, “I hope you’re happy / Now are you?” She then goes on to sing, “You made your bed / You made it for everyone / Now we all have to lie in it.”

The final two songs of the album are mellower, with Winters on vocals and just an acoustic guitar playing behind her. In “Where Is the Reason?” the first half of the song is sung in French, but the melancholy feel still bleeds through. She ends the song in English. This is followed by the final track, “I Am Free,” which along with Winters vocals and the acoustic guitar of the previous song, they throw in some light keyboard playing. The title implies a more hopeful outlook compared to the other songs, but Winters sings, “I am free inside these walls.” So despite the title, she’s not exactly singing about her liberation from her relationship.

Anyone who’s a fan of 60s garage or bubble gum pop would probably want to check out this album.

Audiobulb Records artists opt for a carefully constructed, painstakingly precise and sophisticated glitch-based electronic affair, some bringing to mind the masterful Xanopticon (except perhaps less frantic); others the microtonal meanderings of London-based favourites Electrotronical Records; and occasionally even hints of the complex hip-hop inspired grooves of Planet Mu hero edIT are detectable (not least in latest protégé Calika’s beautiful contribution to the compilation ‘Latticel Work’).

The label itself is a curious affair, releasing (compilations or multimedia projects are thee main concern) largely on mp3 on paying sites such as Napster or iTunes, keeping up with the current and principal market effectively. However, when they do decide to release a CD proper (e.g. 2004’s superlative compilation Switches), all eyes are deservedly on them.

On first listen, the variety on offer here is admirable and definitely a strong salient point for both the initiated electronica fans - the infamously snooty IDM List subscribers (myself included, of course) for example - as well as the inexperienced glitch listeners (the compilation itself may be considered a little ‘heavy-going’ for some – due to the complex and seemingly mechanic nature of some of the pieces - but can definitely point in the right direction if little else).

To address the tracks themselves: it seems that Calika’s aforementioned ‘Latticel Work’ stands alongside the Room remix of ‘So Gone’ (originally by Diagram of Suburban Chaos) as the most instantly gripping track of the compilation.

That said, the ‘demented circus’ effect of Disastro’s effort ‘Requiem Pour Un Feuille Morte’ and the glitching subtleties of Ochre and Taavi Tulev serve the record well as engagingly warm electronica, as does Switches lead man Rudolphe Küffer’s ‘Question’, which bubbles and pops by like a the calm dreams of a blissful robot.

All things considered, this is a highly recommendable record for any IDM enthusiasts; it creates incentive, if we needed any, to hunt down more material by the more established names and gain an effective vantage point to scope out the new breed of producers. Also, priced at a wallet-friendly, £6.90 (about $13), this is a record more than worth spending hard-earned capitol on.