I haven’t done an albumoftheweek post since 2010 happened (remember that? Crazy), and i certainly have never highlighted a mixtape in this category. But, as B.o.B. observes, this is ‘two thousand and when,’ and times are changing.

B.o.B. (Bobby Ray, Bob, aka, whatever) named the mixtape after the release date of his upcoming Atlantic debut, The Adventures of Bobby Ray. What’s most eye opening about this tape are those “prod by B.o.B.” notes at the end of some of the strongest tracks, especially the slightly quirky/poppy “Cool Side,” my new favorite thing in the universe (below). Also see the Kanye produced track, “F*ck the Money,” which might even be good enough to resurrect Asher Roth’s reputation.

Despite the DJ Drama and DJ Sense tags scattered through-out the release, this mixtape is an album. B.o.B.’s satirical College Dropout style narrative through-out the record interconnects each track, with the overall theme clearly conveyed; “We have to treat mixtapes like albums.” When they’re this good, yes.

Download audio file (13-cool-side-prod-by-bob.mp3)

“Cool Side” by B.o.B.

Damn.

Volcano Choir’s Unmap is more a listening experience than a pop record. Justin Vernon and Collections of Colonies of Bees’ odd and unexpected collaboration comes at the height of Bon Iver’s success (shortly before the band announced an indefinite hiatus), and is a complete change of direction from the melodic, acoustic ballads of his previous two releases.

On Unmap, Vernon is able to compliment Collections of Colonies of Bees’ instrumental math-pop with unbelievable effectiveness, and completely different from how he would his work as Bon Iver. The songs are steady and mesmerizing, though there are hardly any solid structures or melodies to hold on to.

Unmap has a lot of rising rhythms and repetitive vocals, but, unlike most other records with either of those things, there is no climax. The rhythms and the vocals just are. Most of the tracks play like a film score, with endless, humming keyboard notes and rumbling floor toms, with Vernon’s voice drifting in and out of the songs as needed. With the exception of “Island IS” (which sounds like it could be on a TV on the Radio EP), the entirety of Unmap only has about 5 actual lyrics, all of which are completely irrelevant. This is the kind of record that you listen to in silence.

Despite a majority of vague instrumentals, as the title explains, these painfully beautiful and enigmatic tracks aren’t lost; they’re simply unmapped.

Download audio file (02-seeplymouth.mp3)

“Seeplymouth” by Volcano Choir

To think that there would be any circumstances in which something this good would not be released on purpose should be enough to convince you to lose all hope in major record labels (if you haven’t already). While it hasn’t been specified why EMI is blocking the release of Danger Mouse and Sparklehorse’s Dark Night of the Soul, one could only guess that they’re actually still angry about The Gray Album. Will labels never learn? I bet the clueless, soulless suit behind this decision is the same guy who told Radiohead to quit music after he heard In Rainbows.

To begin, everything about this album was already incredible a year and a half ago. Still think they should have gone with either a Sparklemouse or Dangerhorse mash-up for the name, but that is my only complaint of Mark Linkous and Brian Burton’s magnificent Dark Night of the Soul. The album is truly a piece of art - in more of a way than any recent album has been - what with its gallery installations and David Lynch photography. It’s also become yet another rebellious statement by Danger Mouse (he once replaced Paris Hilton albums in record stores with remix decoys that read “Thou shalt not worship false idols”), whose blank CDR method is a practical middle finger to the very idea of the record label.

The extra press is not needed. When I listen to this album, I hear the spirit of artists as prominent as The Beatles and as obscure as Morcheeba (or some other, more obscure artist of that vein). Even with the scattered vocal guest appearances and vast array of sounds and ideas, the record still manages to play like a flowing, inter-connected whole from beginning to end.

The guest vocalists of DNOTS breathe life into the songs as opposed to sing over them, invoking the aura of their own musical galaxies in such a way that implies that the songs were written for them. Jason Casablancas’ garage rock “Little Girl” and James Mercer’s indie-pop “Insane Lullaby” don’t sound like the Strokes or the Shins per se, but you’re aware without checking a tracklisting that that’s where the voices came from, and oddly comforted by the familiarity of these great bands. Surely, Linkous and Burton were aware of this when putting this project together.

DNOTS is atmospheric at times; introspective, dark, and downright haunting. At others, it’s abrasive, overt, light-hearted, and catchy. Iggy Pop’s slightly satirical “Pain” fits the latter descriptions to the greatest extent, while the flat-out frightening title track fits the former (with the help of David Lynch’s demented, distorted vocals, which he also offers up on album highlight, “Stars Eye”). And dudes, Suzanne Vega is on this album. Remember, “Tom’s Diner?” I knew all the words to that. Not that it would even matter (just having the idea to call her up to be a part of this project is marvelous enough), but her track, “The Man Who Played God,” is among the album’s best.

It’s substantially challenging to get through this without singling out every song individually, as they’re all so distinctly different, and so pertinent to the record as a whole. Each song has a story to tell beyond lyrics or instruments; creating a world of their own that seem to materialize an entire universe of gloomy, obscure, disturbing, washed out images. Conveniently, that’s where David Lynch comes in. It’s no wonder Linkous/Burton called upon the visual master to compliment these recordings, and it’s no wonder that he complied. Not one for doing album covers for indie artists, Lynch’s involvement in this project is more understandable after listening. When the slow, steady creep of the final track comes to a close as Lynch’s nightmare serenade fades, it’s all abundantly clear how necessary he was.

Arguably the best, most inspired album of the year, It’s a dirty shame that label politics have interfered with such a significant release. The situation has proven yet again that labels don’t understand very much when it comes to one pressing aspect of their business.

You know, the music.

Before I delve into my Relapse review, I figure it only logical to (finally) bang this one out first. To make a long story short; Asleep in the Bread Aisle is not as good as it should have been, but it’s not as bad as it could have been. Not that I’m making excuses for a sub-par hip hop record, but let’s examine the facts.  Asher Roth is no Eminem. This has its good and bad points. There’s arguably only been one legitimate white rapper…well, ever. It would be unfair to judge the album on a Slim Shady LP scale, but it would also be unfair to dismiss it based on the fact that Asher Roth is a white, middle-class college student from suburban Pennsylvania.

While the latter proves to work against him lyrically (he doesn’t really have much to say about anything that doesn’t involve smoking weed or watching re-runs of Saved by the Bell), it also benefits less talented rappers who happen to be the exact opposite (I know, “it could be worse” is a cop-out). Even though there’s a whole track dedicated to the rather close-minded comparisons to Eminem (”Now the masses think that Asher wants to be a Marshall Mathers/They say ‘Asher’s not a rapper, nah his ass is just an actor’/Cause we have the same complexion and similar voice inflection”), and Asher is clearly not as (or at all) shocking, controversial, or inappropriate, I don’t think he’ll ever really escape that one.

Regardless of all premeditated judgments of this record (and the clichéd and slightly corny “I Love College” factor), I’ll admit that I enjoy it. The choruses are catchy and poppy, and the beats are fun. Excessive over-hyping may need to take the blame if that is a disappointment. Among the highlights are the afore-mentioned “As I Em,” the Don Cannon produced “La Di Da,” the Cee-Lo featuring “Be By Myself,” and his most substantial lyrical effort, the politically charged “Sour Patch Kids” (”Unfortunately a fortune is what you need/Cause the fortune 500s run the country/Its one company and if you’re not a company/Would you mind grabbing me a cup of tea?”).

Biggest cons of the album can both be exemplified on the head-scratcher “Bad Day.” Asher runs dry on material at times (lamenting that “the tube has no HBO so anything I want yo I’m paying for but I’m lame and broke so I’m laying in a robe watching that Little People Big World show.” That…sucks?), and his verses fall a little flat at the end more than once (”Alls good slaughter/Just need water but for a bottle they charge two dollars/And when I thought that it couldn’t be worse, I forgot my iPod”). Eek.

As far as the Class of ‘09 is concerned, he will likely end up delivering the least impressive record of the bunch, but Asleep in the Bread Aisle has its highlights and is overall a decent debut. However, it’s nothing to bleach your hair and throw your girlfriend in the trunk and drive off a bridge over. It’s a good album to get stoned and play video games to, which is why it’s unfortunate that everyone will inevitably compare apples to oranges. “It’s simple, I’m just a kid who wants to rap to make a living.” Fair enough.

If Bat For Lashes’ debut album, Fur & Gold, was just a warm up, then Two Suns has shattered all expectations in an absurd and near offensive manner. This is the kind of record that requires full and undivided attention. It requires you log out of Twitter, walk away from the Macbook, and simply indulge in it’s infinite, tormented beauty. It will hurt in the end, but it needs and deserves the kind of love that only ends in heartbreak. Her name is Pearl, and she will love you the best way she knows how.

Actually, her name’s Natasha Khan, and I love her. And so will you.

Khan’s soul is a glittering diamond on this record; beautiful, but tortured, exposed and afraid. Her passionate vocals caress the album’s fluid soundscapes with fragile yet assertive melodies and lyrics; “When I run in the dark/Into a place that’s vast/Under a sheet of rain in my heart/I dream of home,” sings Khan on the album’s single, “Daniel.” Her musical style that suggests a more accessible Bjork and a more complicated Tori Amos seems somewhat easy to peg at first, but the crystal towers, golden blues, thousand knights, lonesome moons, and two hearted dreams suggest otherwise.

From the innocent quest for eternal love on album opener, “Glass,” (”In the streets’ Broadways/I seek him whom my soul loveth) to the gut-wrenching, brutally honest fears of “Siren Song,” (It won’t be long ’til you leave/Cause I’m evil, evil), she sways gracefully and effortlessly between feelings, carrying your vulnerable heart along the way.

I know she didn’t mean to, but she broke mine.

Last week, not only did I not elaborate enough on how amazing the new Yeah Yeah Yeahs record is, but I gave it a rating of 8 out of 10 which I would now like to formally change to 9 out of 10. Not only is It’s Blitz the type of album that is clearly phenomenal at first listen, but I’ve found that each time the pounding toms and ambient synths of “Little Shadow” fade out into silence…I love the record even more. It’s not to say that Blitz is a “grower” in the music review sense, but there’s something about these hollowed, echoed alternative anthems that becomes more powerful with each listen.

There are a few reasons for this. Karen O is just a f*cking tornado. She touches down to the ground and destroys everything in her f*cking path. The other elements of the song get sucked into the whirlwind rather than determine her direction. There are parts (and I mean, only a couple) where without the melody, the songs would be considerably less memorable than they are; though, instrumentally - on this album more than any other, these songs stand very firmly on their own.

The musical landscapes that have been made possible by this band simply putting a sequencer in their studio is completely astounding. Considering what they’ve accomplished in the past with just a couple of guitar parts and drums makes this totally understandable. Yet, I find myself blown away by the beauty of these keyboard driven breakdowns and oceans of distorted sounds.

Along with all of this, there were two pressing observations that were missing from my previous write-up; the first being that It’s Blitz is the Yeah Yeah Yeahs at their unequivocal best. The second: that this is likely Album of the Year.

Thank goodness for this record. Yeah Yeah Yeahs are so consistent and so talented that I don’t even know how to finish this thought. Since 2003’s Fever to Tell, the New York City rockers have been releasing music on an escalating scale of beautiful and spastic punk rock awesomness that does more for the genre then all of its bands of the previous 20 years combined.

Yeah Yeah Yeahs have expanded their punk/indie sound to now include the inevitable third album experimentation that often fails so many great acts. But, the pounding dance grooves and distorted snare drum thumps work so well with Karen O’s lovely yet Don’t-Give-A-Fuck-ish vocals that you would assume it was the band’s long-time signature sound.

Whether it’s the raw energy of “Zero” and “Heads Will Roll” or the introspective ambiance of “Skeleton Me” and “Runaway,” YYY’s simply know how to make amazing records that are both familiar and sonically adventurous. Sometimes bands remain stagnant in what they know and what they do well, and sometimes they break some fucking eggs in their bare hands. On It’z Blitz, the YYYs use an array of ingredients to make a bold, tasty, synth-laden, punk rock indie omelette. That thought ended up in a different place than it started out in.

I personally can’t wait to see Karen O rip her clothes off to “Dull Life” in the pouring rain at an outdoor venue in Brooklyn this summer.

I wanted to steer clear of verbose negative reviews so not to have the obnoxious snobbery of certain music publications that will remain un-named (but linked). However, when compared to the blind admiration given by other music publications that will also remain un-named (but also linked), I suppose me meeting sort-of in the middle (yet keeping with the verbosing) can comfort me through the next few ‘graphs.

Where to start? I had read the Daniel Lanois interview months ago where he boasted that U2 was “reinventing rock ‘n’ roll” with No Line on the Horizon, and, as an avid fan of their recent material, I was ecstatic. However, since I’ve heard the album, I can’t help but wonder if Lanois was referring to a different one. There are moments that strike me as experimental - but not in the way I had hoped. This is the sound of a band trying to see what they can get away with; how stagnant and innocuous their output can be without coming off as completely not-giving-a-shit.

Maybe that’s a bit harsh, but something about this album is head-scratching. I’m not sure if it’s the Edge guitar licks and the Bono melodies that all seem recycled from various U2 albums past, or if it’s moments like the intentionally dissonant falsetto on “I’ll Go Crazy if I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight” (or that awful song title, while we’re on it), or if it’s that the possibility that “Get On Your Boots” is the worst rock song of 2009. It’s likely a combination of all of these things.

Much of NLOTH plays like a band trying desperately to sound like U2, using all of the idiosyncrasies of their entire career to ensure a perfect match. Bono more often than not sounds like someone else doing a Bono impression. This is most evident in live performances of “Boots,” in which he over-emotes to the point where he’s become that parody of himself that he’s been narrowly avoiding for a while.

I’ve been trying to put my finger on why I feel as if U2 never went away after the Vertigo Tour ended. Then I realized that this is because of Coldplay. With the band tirelessly studying from the U2 Rock Band Handbook in recent years (See: Anthems, Runways, Eno), it’s almost as if they’ve not-so-inadvertently taken U2’s place. Chris Martin himself has even joked that they were holding down the fort during U2’s interim between albums. After NLOTH selling half of what Viva La Vida did opening week - and, frankly, being half as good - I can’t help but wonder if there is room for two U2’s in this world.

With all of that said, it’s still U2. I can’t stop listening to the thing, and there are exceptions - like the Lanois/Eno style landscapes of “Fez - Being Born,” the classic U2-arena-melting power of the title track (which has been in my head for days), and the hints of the U2 album I wanted to hear within “Cedars of Lebanon.” But even “Magnificent,” which is a flat-out great song, has some of those “recycled” U2 bits I mentioned. Much of the songs on the album are the less interesting doppelgangers of U2 classics posing as the originals.

It’s hard to explain what exactly I was expecting and why this isn’t it. Hell, I even loved Pop (a lot). Never-the-less, No Line on the Horizon is an over-hyped, unsatisfying let-down, that, in many ways, reflects its bland, vapid, oddly lifeless gray and white colored cover. My grievances about the record aren’t solely attributed to my withered expectations. if it weren’t a U2 record, I don’t believe that I would think more highly of it. In fact, I’d probably think even less. Is it decent? Yeah. Did it Reinvent rock ‘n’ roll? Not even close. I really hope that that U2 album is still on the way.

While it seems pretty easy for Perez Hilton to hate Lily Allen, I find it nearly impossible not to love her to pieces. What’s not to love, really? Her songs are unbelievably catchy, she’s cute as a button, and even when she says “shit” and “fuck,” it’s adorable. On her sophomore album, It’s Not Me, It’s You, Allen’s demented Disneyland nightmare soundtrack style is still intact (see: “Never Gonna Happen” and “Fuck You”), but she also seems to have reluctantly grown up a bit.

On “22,” she looks into a bleak, not so distant future as a single 30-something, “It’s sad but it’s true how society says her life is already over/There’s nothing to do and there’s nothing to say/Til the man of her dreams comes along, picks her up and puts her over his shoulder/It seems so likely in this day and age.” As always, the melancholy lyrics are off-set by chipper pop blips and energetic piano chords.

However, there are many songs on this album, unlike her debut, Alright Still, that are flat-out gloomy…especially for Allen. The lead-off track, “Everyone’s At It,” is perhaps the most straight-forward pop song about drugs ever, “So your daughter’s depressed, well get her straight on the Prozac/But little do you know she already takes crack/Why can’t we all just be honest/Admit to ourselves that everyone’s on it.” The pop blips and energetic piano chords are only slightly chipper.

Fear seems to be the under-lying theme of It’s Not Me, It’s You. Besides the obvious example of the song, “The Fear,” Allen seems to fear everything; Fame, love, loneliness, age, even other people’s drug habits. But in the end, she’s conquering those fears by writing great fucking pop songs about them. The record is fun, but real. Though it may be reluctant, the growth on It’s Not Me is obvious. She’s managed to maintain her signature sound while changing and expanding it, and making the sort of sophomore album that most other pop starlets in her position only pretend to make.

Perez, fuck you very, very much.

I wanted to write about this album weeks ago, so “Albumoftheweek” here is used very figuratively. The Death of Adam, 88 Keys’ debut full length, is one of the few hip hop concept albums that’s actually a concept album. Charles Misodi Njapa, the acclaimed hip hop producer from Long Island with a serious Ralph Lauren obsession, takes us through the journey of his fictional character, Adam. Adam just wanted to get laid, but ends up a baby-daddy with a bad case of “burning bush.”

The album’s connecting thread is a gossip girl narration, in which a friend of a friend tells the story of “that guy Adam from uptown.” He starts off playing the nice guy card (but gets the “you’re like a best friend” line - as told on “Nice Guys Finish Last”), dates a sex maniac (”Stay Up! (Viagra)”), and, after lots of unprotected sex (’she been poppin’ Tic Tacs!’), Adam ends up with more than he bargained for (’they havin’ that baby’).

The imaginative producer cruises through the story with fun, energetic hip hop songs, incorporating guitars, piano (88 Keys is a bad piano player himself - hence his name), and an array of guest rappers (Kanye West, Kid Cudi, Redman, and Shitake Monkey). “Morning Wood” and “Friends Zone” are Outkast and N.E.R.D. flavored, respectively, while “Handcuff ‘Em” and “(Awww Man) Round 2?” sound like tracks off of College Dropout, complete with Keys’ Kanye-like delivery (No coincidence there, as ‘Ye executive produced the record). All in all, Keys has created what many hip hop fans consider an instant classic. A great hip hop album with a concept and a moral to the story? I’ll put my name on that list.