(Dreamworks Records)
After a pictorial of the lead singer in Stuff magazine yielded only a three star review, the worst for Casper-white hip-hop siblings Taryn and Kellin Manning was still to come: the inevitable day when one of them actually listens to their album. Boomkatalogue.one so badly fails to mix bubblegum alternative and hip hop that the resulting product sounds like the soundtrack to Bis' worst nightmare.
Stylized production with fine-tuned mastering, techno-industrial chic artwork laid over a CD of fashionably chosen juxtaposed samples; this album should be a turnkey pop music success. It isn't. Under a guise of something cute, Boomkat has assembled hip-hop, house-spun techno, alternative music and synthpop into every song.
What has been formed is a bitter stew of grade-F giblets of respectable music styles with a faint whiff of extract of cute. Boomkat's attempts to be adorable are as kitchy as the arrhythmic pedophiliac allure of Taryn's 12 year-old voice rapping.
This album fails in the most fundamental sense-there is no band, there are no songs. Boomkat sounds like a fifth-grade music class project with a lot of help from mom and dad.
Asked about her thoughts on the first song on the album, Taryn replies, \This tells the journey of the record. We thank everyone, like, 'Look, Mom, we did it!' [Actual song lyrics] And with the last verse, 'Boomkat's in the house' we are saying, 'We are here.'""
Taryn's tapestry of musical styles, a huge woven sign proclaiming ""Where the hell were we going with this album,"" is as varied as her artistic experience. An actress on Boston Public and in the Britney Spears vehicle ""Crossroads,"" Taryn's attempt to generate cross media appeal will, at best, be a William Shatner Transformed Man type asterisk in her movie career.
Boomkatalogue.one is the worst kind of pop-a mere assembly of commercially viable styles spewed from a pretty face. Boomkat's pop career is that of a zero hit wonder, a complete failure in even selling out.
(RCA)
Years ago, Cave In was a hardcore band. They're not anymore. With the release of their third full length album, Antenna, Cave In creates a complementary disc to 2000's Jupiter, the critically acclaimed project that brought the band widespread attention, including a spot on the U.S. and European Foo Fighters' tour and a major label record deal with RCA. Antenna, like Jupiter and the Tides of Tomorrow EP, mark Cave In's departure from their hardcore/metal background, into the realm of space-prog rock. By moving so abruptly into another genre, they seem like two different bands when compared to their earlier releases. With atmospheric guitar arrangements, numerous lyrical references to the sky and the use of toy space guns to play their guitars during live shows, the band seems to be taking the space rock thing pretty far. Heralding such quirky genre-identifying names as ""Space Emo,"" the line ""The sharp end of a star stabbing me right through my heart"" on ""Woodwork"" would make any self-professed emo-nerd shed a tear. Maybe, the ridiculous label isn't so far-fetched after all.
The first tracks of Antenna are extremely catchy, so much that after hearing the record once, they were memorable enough to catch during the band's live show. The band defines themselves from other post-hardcore outfits by their musical experimentation and the catchy melodies of these opening tracks. However, the following track, ""Beautiful Son,"" falls flat as an overproduced ballad that warrants skipping over. The remainder of the album indulges itself in the atmospheric, with tracks such as ""Seafrost"" clocking in at about eight minutes. The high-pitched, drowning vocals of lead singer Stephen Brodsky drive the gravity-defying sound of Cave In, but they lose some of their bite in the production elements of the album. The record's polished aspect diminishes the veracity of Cave In's live show. At times, Antenna is overproduced (as expected from a major label debut), but is a good rock record, missing the edge of Jupiter, but delivering nevertheless.
(Concord)
Young lounge singers and would-be Diana Kralls are not exactly rare these days. Yet Peter Cincotti's invidious publicity machine has managed to draw attention to his name, declaring him ""the next Harry Connick Jr."" However, the contemporary vocal jazz genre, which attempts to follow in the footsteps of the legends yet appeals to a new audience, is crowded, and Cincotti will need to be more than a carbon copy of Connick, who has mentored him since age seven.
On his self-titled debut CD, Cincotti demonstrates his considerable talent and proves he has the potential to go far. He sang, played piano and arranged all tracks on the CD, composing the music for three of the songs. His original works are among the album's best. ""Are You The One?"" is smooth yet giddy. While Cincotti has a charismatic and captivating voice, he lacks a flexible expressive range. He sounds much the same on the love-struck ""Are You The One?"" and the cynical, lamenting ""Lovers, Secrets, Lies."" Mood is conveyed more through tempo and instrumentation than vocals.
Instrument-phobic listeners will be scared off by this album, in which most songs feature lengthy piano solos and one song, a rendition of Blood, Sweat and Tears' ""Spinning Wheel,"" has no vocals at all. But Cincotti's piano and the percussion, bass and tenor sax in the background, and often the foreground of many songs, add to the magnetism of many songs. Often, the piano solos, such as in the song ""Ain't Misbehavin',"" are the most standout part of a track.
One of the most provocative and haunting tracks is ""Come Live Your Life With Me,"" the waltz from ""The Godfather."" And although he performs several jazz staples, the CD has many original and unconventional aspects. ""Nature Boy,"" a familiar song to ""Moulin Rouge"" fans, is cleverly juxtaposed with the tune of The Beatles' ""The Fool on the Hill."" Cincotti wraps up the album with a somewhat mature ""Rainbow Connection,"" though the album notes that ""nobody can sing it like Kermit the Frog.""
Time will tell whether Cincotti can truly develop and maintain his own identity, but the talent expressed on his debut CD suggests he has the potential to do just that. A suave, sophisticated musician, Peter Cincotti is an enthralling addition to the jazz scene.
(Polyvinyl)
As far as pop music goes, no decade has ever come close to the '60s, and none probably ever will. The Beach Boys, The Beatles, Phil Spector and Motown ruled the charts, creating memorable, immediate music that still stands up today. On their fourth album, Detroit indie-pop collective Saturday Looks Good to Me gazes backward on that time when quality pop music was actually popular, combining, the aforementioned greats of the '60s to winning, if unoriginal, effect. They're so unabashed in acknowledging their influences though, and the poppiness feels so natural it's impossible to hold their unoriginality against them.
The overall sound of All Your Summer Songs comes off as Spector-on-the-cheap. Recorded on a four-track, the album still feels spacious and echoey, in a warm way. Organs, strings and acoustic guitars form the backbone of every track, with occasional vibes, horns and of course, tambourines fleshing out many others.
For the most part, Summer Songs ambles along agreeably, not making much of an impression, but on four tracks everything comes together for the band, leading to pure pop genius. ""Alcohol"" sounds like an outtake from Pet Sounds with Ted Nugent on guitar, ""Ultimate Stars"" updates the John Fred and the Playboys bubblegum classic ""Judy in Disguise,"" and ""Last Hour"" is the perfect album closer. ""Underwater Heartbeat,"" however, stands out from the rest of the album. Perfectly channeling the unforced catchiness of the best pop songs, ""Heartbeat"" is literally no more than a saxophone riffing over two organ chords, a lively drum beat and some harmony vocals. It shouldn't be this easy.
Accompanying, and sometimes contrasting, the inviting backing tracks are the misleadingly melancholy lyrics, all penned by band leader Fred Thomas. They show more of a fixation with the end of summer than summer itself-with most tracks about the impermanence of happiness, about leaving or already having left. Like everything else on the album, the idea of melancholy pop and imminent demise is unoriginal, but it fits, and Saturday Looks Good to Me pulls it off well.
Hopefully, the preoccupation with the end of summer indicates a willingness to move on from the past. All Your Summer Songs is incredibly enjoyable, but the best points of the album point to the fact that Saturday Looks Good to Me has more in them than merely parroting their influences. They sound like they are en route to finding their own sound, and should be even better once they do.
