PASTILAN DONG!
Gadilaab
PLENTY of OPM fans believe that the music of their youth is the soundtrack of their lives. To those who pine for the pre-millennial Club Dredd, three-piece Pastilan Dong! offers a slice of the noise that defined the alternative scene in the ‘90s.
They’re not a veteran act, so the band must be filtering their aesthetics from records released during the era. Thankfully: What monkey remembers, monkey recreates—in a better image.
So Pastilan Dong! checks the requisite boxes. For “Hiyang,” grungy thunder rides a hard-rock riff before they merge into an exquisite power-pop number. Shoegaze adds sticky edifying fuzz to the dancey vibe of “BnW.” In “Odd Uneven,” they resurrect Black Sabbath in between the alt-rock progression emulating an unhinged update of Teeth.
The singing conveys an absence of emotion in tune with the post-punk ethos of indifference and isolation. That’s what ‘90s angst was all about and in their rejuvenated alt-rock, Pastilan Dong! pays a grand tribute to the era.
MEAT PUPPETS
Dusty Notes
‘80s desert punk icons, the Curt Kirkwood-led Meat Puppets, reunite for their 17th studio recording of original materials. Instead of repeating themselves, as the album title implies, they’ve punked their own punk-era myth, indulging this time in the sweeter waters of timeless country. Those who have lost touch with the Puppets’ legacy will find the new album bewitching and invigorating in its otherworldly splendor.
Who would have thought the tormented Kirkwood brothers would find refuge in Appalachian down-home music? But there they go in the backwater country-fueled rock by way of polka in Warranty, and the warm waltz of Nine Pins. They should silence Eagles fans with the real heartland country swing of On.
Have the Meat Puppets gone soft and cautious in their 50s? Not quite; but really, who’d care if they’re still producing music that stops even Grandfather Time on his tracks? Heehaw and bollocks to naysayers then!
METHY ETHYL
Triage
THIS musical export from the Land Down Under says The Cure is a major influence yet on their third outing, the band comes closer to a “female-fronted” modification of Depeche Mode. In the first place, the guitars are muted, and the synth takes over in giving the songs a contemporary dance-pop luster.
The beats and bright-synth colors are out front and vocalist Jake Webb’s androgynous singing earns its rightful space in the Donna Summer contender Trip The Mains, or in the alt-rock machinations of Ruiner. They supplement the album’s prevailing arc in search of good times in an increasingly bleak landscape.
The music grabs you right at the opening riffs, and repeated listens will reveal hidden treasures in the lyrics as well as the tension that lurks behind the overall musicality. They may as well be this year’s Suede.
OUTERHOPE
Vacation
JUST a minute into the record and the duo of siblings Michael and Micaela Benedicto is already peeling off layers of traditional notions of going away on a holiday.
In a series of breezy sometimes reverb-tinged tracks, Outerhope sends out missives on the thrill of travelling to foreign lands while echoing the sad vibes of departure lounges.
It’s the ethereal voice of Micaela that evokes the blues in leave-taking best demonstrated in Out to Sea, where the right amount of melancholic ambience keeps the music from floating away entirely. The cascades of hooky melodies resound with tiny seemingly tolling bells. Even in more grandiose productions like Holiday, the chamber-pop swirl gets grounded by the happy-sad ambivalence in her vocals.
Michael sculpts a broad spectrum of musical accompaniments. A bit of Psychedelic Furs shows up in Bridges Street, shuffling new wave in The Seam Between and somber tones that break into a massed chorus in the epic Always. Vacation may be your friendly companion in this season of summer adventures and escapes.
SOLANGE
When I Get Home
STEP into the next iteration of heavy soul with Solange’s latest album. Beyonce’s kid sister has opted for a kaleidoscope of sounds in bringing R&B to another level. It’s difficult to say whether When I Get Home takes off to new heights, but its broad scope certainly invites immediate impressions there’s some bloody riot going on in its 19 tracks.
Solange opens the record on a ‘70s soul trip in Things I Imagined, followed by an interlude about kissing all behind. Bathe in sparse jazz-funk while she explores thereafter what it means to be black and female in today’s America. She sings: “Brown skin, brown braids…/ Black faith still can’t be washed away…” in celebration of her unique culture, then deals with perceived exaltation with: “Do you realize how magnificent you are?/ We are walking embodiments of God’s consciousness.”
A lot of lyrical repetition happens on the album, especially on Dreams, which in no way prevents the core theme that women are unbreakable from getting across thick blockheads. If anything, the reiteration is sublimated in a steady flow of cool lounge and street-smart drum and bass. How’s that for a one-two punch in freeing the mind?
Home may be where the heart is. With Solange, it’s where she renews strength with her empowered homies.