Here are the album reviews I wrote for the February issue of EL Magazine, which was distributed in Tokyo on January 25.
No Cities to Love
-Sleater-Kinney (Sub Pop/Traffic)
A Better Tomorrow
-Wu-Tang Clan (Warner)
It can’t be said enough that Sleater-Kinney epitomized what was great about indie rock in the 90s better than any other band, namely a belief in the cathartic power of punk but minus the reactionary limitations that punk had been saddled with for 20 years. The trio transcended their chosen style early on without abandoning its fierce immediacy and was still growing creatively when they called it quits in the middle of the last decade. If you hear someone say that their new album sounds as if they never stopped, that’s what they mean, because despite the individual touchstones, which remain the same—Corin Tucker’s knife-like vocals, Carrie Brownstein’s visceral rhythm guitar, Janet Weiss’s improbably melodic drumming—this isn’t like any of their previous records. Though they return to the short song forms of their early days, the writing and arrangements eschew structure for the sake of expressive power, and the overall sound is harsher than it’s ever been. If they deem to do without a standard vocal melody on the title cut, the cross-cutting guitars supply their own tunefulness in juxtaposition, and when Brownstein, who really learned how to sing in the short-lived indie project Wild Flag, joins Tucker as an equal on the chorus of “No Anthems,” you wonder why they never tried harmonies before. Even “Price Tag,” which strikes me as the album’s weakest cut and thus a poor choice to start things off, presents its musical themes in such an unusual way that you know you’re not going to appreciate it until you’ve heard it several more times. The exuberance of the production belies the song titles’ generally negative attitude, or maybe it simply means that the band is heartened by the destruction of things that don’t need to exist any more. Obviously, they once thought that about themselves, and it’s nice to know they only got back together because they had something new to say. Being from Staten Island, where several high-profile racially-charged incidents have occurred in the past year, the ten members of the reunited Wu Tang Clan—including the late Ol’ Dirty Bastard, who is sampled throughout—have plenty of fresh topics to rap about, though some do more of it than others. What was always most thrilling about the group’s approach was the stylistic contrasts and overlaps, especially between Method Man’s heartfelt delivery and Masta Killa’s staccato flow. I wouldn’t mind more Ghostface since in the years since Wu dissolved he’s proven to be the most interesting member, at least lyrically, but the point here is that RZA, after indulging his obsession with Asian pop culture to no compelling end, oversees the proceedings with a reinvigorated musical outlook that keeps things clanging and funky when they aren’t snaking their way into your lower extremities. Dig the marching band motif on the obligatory tag team exercise “We Will Fight.” Nobody does that kind of shit better. Continue reading