JEFFREY MORGAN’S
MEDIA BLACKOUT #635.278!
Alice Cooper – Alice Cooper Goes To Hell (Warner Bros.) :: Amateur.
Anna Atkinson
– Mooniture (self released) :: So I’m spinnin’ the first song and suddenly thinking that, no, the
absolute last thing I wanna do is say that Anna is the new Nico ’cause she seems to be way too normal to be
saddled with that kind of calamitous tag. But every time I hear the viola sonorously slither up beside her, I get
flummoxed into thinking that I’m listening to some kinda vintage John Cale creation before remembering that, no, Anna
seems to be way too normal to be saddled with that kind of calamitous tag. And then I’m spinnin’ the
second song which starts: “The inside of my head sounds like a choir of trumpets ever since the accident” and
suddenly I’m thinking that, yes, Anna is the new Nico ’cause she’s way too abnormal to be saddled
with anything less than that kind of calamitous tag.
AC/DC – Highway To Hell (Atlantic)
:: Amateurs.
Desmond Grundy – Oddly Enough (self released) :: So I’m spinnin’ the
first song and suddenly thinking that, no, the absolute last thing I wanna do is say that Desmond is the new Lou
Reed ’cause he seems to be way too normal to be saddled with that kind of calamitous tag. But every time I
hear the gnarly destorto guitar grinding up behind him, I get flummoxed into thinking that I’m listening to some kinda
vintage Velvet Underground gradation. And suddenly I’m thinking, yes, that’s cool because nobody sounds
like Unca Lou anymore—not even the old reprobate himself ’cause he’s way too normal these days
to be saddled with that kind of calamitous tag.
Diamanda Galás
– You Must Be Certain Of The Devil (Mute) :: Amateur.
SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Notar
– Devil’s Playground (Tyrannosaurus) :: When it comes to writing and rapping, Notar can go toe to toe
with the best of ’em and then best the rest of ’em. What immediately elevates this admirable effort above and
beyond all other recent rap records is the sheer ambitious scope of the studio production coupled with an accompaniment of
eclectic instrumentation that effortlessly oscillates from track to track between hot snatches of Prince-style synthesizer;
deep scratches of melodramatic Queen choir backing vocals; and wet splashes of Zeppelinesque guitar and strings.
But what really
anchors the proceedings with a rock-solid foundation are the songs, which range in rage from the sulfuric subject
matter of the cautionary title track to the social satire of the anthemic “Alcoholic” to the so-goofy-it’s-great
musical history lesson “Perseverance” which dares to narratively name-check a whole gaggle of groups from the
Yardbirds and Velvets to Boston and Rush. Now that’s what I call being a professional. Bonus points for having
a name that, backwards, reminds me of a 1976 comedy album title.
Bill Cosby – Bill Cosby
Is Not Himself These Days Rat Own Rat Own Rat Own (Capitol) :: Riiight!
Be seeing you!
