“@BTRluvr4life: OMG!!! <3 YOU! SO EXCITED!! ELEVATE!1!!1”

Gotta admire the originality of preteen girls. Nevertheless, I read every single one while furiously typing out my own tweets to Big Time Rush (BTR) @Jamesmaslow, @1loganhenderson, @theCarlosPena and @HeffronDrive from my purely fan girl twitter account.

Big Time Rush, like Hannah Montana, is a band born out of a TV show. Their hit Nickelodeon series follows the ‘four hockey players from Minnesota’ as they try to make it as a boy band in L.A. Two years ago, my three best friends and I fell in love with the very same four quirky cute guys, their catchy pointless dance music and dippy screen writing.

It’s safe to say that I’m obsessed.

The night before the album was released, I Googled around the area trying to find any stores selling Elevate that opened before school, any 24-hour Walmart or Target nearby. Nope. Thanks, Kansas. It looked like my ‘Elevation’ would have to wait till after school. And after eight very long, very boring hours—it was time.

Picture: you’ve just been peacefully shopping for groceries at the local Walmart, you’re way out the door, about to head home and cook your Hamburger Helper, two-year-old daughter in hand and—BAM. You almost get mauled by a crazed high school student as she bursts through the entrance doors and sprints toward the back of the store, best friend in tow. That girl is me, Kim Hoedel.

It was there. I had it. “Elevate” by Big Time Rush. Unfortunately, the CD player in my car was broken, so we entertained ourselves with flipping through the CD booklet discussing which member wrote which songs and arguing over who looked best in which picture. I had tried to switch cars with my dad so that I could blast Elevate on the ride home, but his brakes had just gone out. Even though I said that I didn’t mind, he advised me to value my own life over Big Time Rush.

Home at last and home alone. Score. Phaty rage—and by ‘rage,’ I mean blaring BTR and dancing around like a 7-year- old. I bolted inside and popped the CD into our living room sound system. I couldn’t wait to see what catchy computerized chords BTR had in store for me. But as the songs went on, I noticed a theme that was comprised of a lot of clichéd love lines and an overdose on the words ‘beautiful’ and ‘baby.’ When did Big Time Rush become We The Kings?

I was let down when my hopes of synthetic pop beats turned into soft singing and sweet piano playing. At first, I wasn’t worried, BTR always threw in one or two emotional love songs. Last album it was “Worldwide,” a song that wasn’t my personal favorite until recently, when Big Time Rush pulled me up on stage at their Hutchinson concert and serenaded me with it.

Kim makes her entrance at 1:18.

I skipped around the tracks and was shocked to find an uncomfortable amount of slow, quiet chord progressions. On to the next track, surely this would end the streak. Nope. On the contrary, I was overwhelmed by Kendall’s raw voice belting out a love ballad. No. No, no, no. Stop BTR. What are you doing?! Song after song, my heart sank lower and lower.

Seriously, BTR?

The reason my friends and I loved Big Time Rush in the first place was because it was mindless. It all started as a joke, watching the show to make fun of it, but now it has progressed to fan girl twitter accounts, poster plastered walls, 45-minute phone calls about the newest find in quirky BTR Youtube videos, two concerts (and counting), one involving a five hour commute and Tivos filled to maximum capacity with Big Time Rush episodes.

I liked that as a graduate of elementary school, it wasn’t my demographic. I liked that it was pointless and stupid without drama or real-world problems. Every TV show now involves death or some lame love story—whereas Big Time Rush is more like “Oh no!! We knocked Jordin Sparks down a well! What are we gonna do?!?”

Big Time Rush’s first album was written originally for their show: stupid, pointless, poppy, computerized and most importantly, awesome. Now with “Elevate,” Big Time Rush is trying to be a band first, and a TV show second. The members of Big Time Rush wrote eight of the songs themselves, and while I love that they wrote their own songs, I miss the empty pointlessness of it all.

What really stinks about listening to their newest album is you can hear the demographic they are trying to target. Each song is a sensitive love song to the listener. The album might as well be called ‘Girl.’ The songs are full of typical boy-band messages like: Oh, you think you are invisible but I see you and I love you, you think you are ugly but you’re beautiful and I love you, and I will always be here for you because I love you.

Does BTR think I have self-esteem issues? I mean, not me personally, I’m the 17-year-old who was crazy enough to do their choreographed dance on stage with them, but that’s not what’s important. It means BTR thinks their listeners have self-esteem issues. Like typical Rushers are girls who skulk around, feeling lonely all day, hating themselves and turn to Big Time Rush for love and support. Awesome. Proud to be a Rusher.

Let’s get real. Elevate was kinda disappointing, Big Time Rush let me down with their ‘scandalous’ attempts to separate themselves from Nickelodeon by including H-E-double- hockey-sticks in a song lyric, mentioning ‘clubs’ in another song and singing about ‘deep’ emotions and romantic physical contact.

Let’s get real, again. The album came out three weeks ago and I’ve had every song memorized from Day One. Big Time Rush’s music quality isn’t the point, not for me. The point is that they are cute. They are funny. They make you smile and are just altogether mindless and quirky.

I’m still a die-hard Rusher. I will still listen and love every song from Elevate because those are my boys. I will still tweet @bigtimerush day and night. I will still double-check to make sure the new episode of BTR is set to record on my Tivo. I will still have my computer home page set to the picture of James and me BTR posted on their Nickelodeon webpage. I will still spend every moment in Honors Physics trying to spell out BTR song titles on the periodic table.

We all have our secret obsessions; I’m just willing to publish mine for anyone to read. But I’ll come out and say it: I will always support and love Big Time Rush, no matter what.

I mean, think about it, after this article comes out, they’ll probably be the only friends I have left.

It’s almost easy to forget about his rapping career.

With Donald Glover’s, a.k.a. Childish Gambino’s, first fully released studio album “Camp,” he proves that he is the only man in Hollywood who can pull off the actor-to-artist crossover and not be marred with embarrassment. In an age where all it takes to become a bona fide actor-turned-singer is a dash of auto-tune and a drunken dance floor anthem, Gambino is an artist. “Camp” deftly blends his comedic, quick-witted charisma with considerable emotional poignancy. This is shown in the opening song “Outside” where he sets the tone for the rest of the album, rapping “I used to dream every night / Now I never dream at all / I hope it’s cause I’m living everything I want.” Solemn words from a guy whose first EP mainly consisted of verses about his genitalia.

And therein lies the biggest and most welcome surprise of the album: it isn’t merely a collection of running gags or cocky braggery. Even though there is a fair deal of self-perpetuating boastful talk, the album is really an honest telling of what it’s like to be thrown into stardom at such a young age. His young-blooded, high-pitched voice describes his fight against adulthood—his whiny vocals sound like he is talking to you rather than shouting to a jam-packed arena. Songs like the harmonic and epic “Bonfire” as well as the synth-heavy, commercial friendly “Heartbeat” exhibit this stripped and bare lyrical approach, as he rants about sexual misadventures and people dissing his rapping ability.

While other rap artists in today’s industry have a tendency to hide behind a fabricated layer of street cred and gold watches, Gambino addresses insults with a laid-back grandeur. He rants and rhymes during the church choir-esque “Backpackers” that he is a “well-spoken token that ain’t never been hurt / the only white rapper who’s allowed to say the n-word.” His honesty is noteworthy; he never twists and turns to fit the mold of the modern rapper.

Throughout the album, Gambino doesn’t run away from his suburban past, he embraces it. Gambino uses “camp” as a metaphor for his innocence and helplessness, painting an image of a wide-eyed, backpack-wearing kid who’s too scared to talk to girls. The subtle, tour-de force closing song “That Power” may be one of the best tracks on the album, exemplifying this theme and featuring a 4 minute 29 second monologue in which Gambino tells the oddly tragic tale of saying goodbye to his camp buddy-turned-love interest at the bus stop. The song ends beautifully, as he speaks in a monotone voice “The truth is, I got on the bus a boy and I never got off the bus / I still haven’t.” It’s a big leap of faith to include such a sentimental, eye-roll-inducing subject as the dramatic conclusion to the album, but oddly, it works.

With his sentimental yet hard-edged approach, it’s natural for Gambino to draw comparisons to acts like Kanye West. His quick-witted rhymes and emotional storytelling showcase a man who is confused and alone like Mr. West—but furthermore, the album’s rich female harmonies and distorted vocals seem to be in the vein of his style. The brass-heavy “You See Me” has a similar sound to Kanye’s “All Of The Lights,” with a repetitive trombone oscillating and blaring like a blow-horn.

And although he’s miles away from Kanye West, “Camp” is a surprisingly solid debut album that doesn’t get lost in the heap of Top-40 synth-rock drivel. Despite all the skepticism surrounding Gambino, it is a shockingly good disc.

If Donald Glover’s comedy is like Eddie Murphy, then this album should have been in the same conversation as Murphy’s squeamish attempted hit “Party All The Time,” in which he sings in an open breezeback about a non-stop groove-fest. However, it actually is a piece of work that stands on its own, and asserts him as a real double threat. I think Gambino says it best during “Bonfire,” as he raps “Man how come every black actor gotta rap some? / I don’t know, all I know is I’m the best one.”

And Gambino, after all, is nothing if not honest.

Three out of Four Stars

Right off the bat, Colin Meloy puts his masterful narrative on display. His distinctive voice and unrivaled storytelling shines through on the opening track, ‘E. Watson.’ Accompanied only by an ominous steel guitar, Meloy solemnly tells the legend of Edgar Watson, a lawless bandit from Florida. The apocalyptic chorus calls for the Lord to “bring down the flood, wash away the blood, drown these Everglades, put us in our place.” These lyrics seem to foreshadow a gloomy collection, but the band totally shifts gears on the following track.

The EP takes an unexpected, upbeat turn as The Decemberists go country. The band travelled back to their native Oregon and recorded this album in a barn, hoping to harness the rustic atmosphere of their surroundings. This change in scenery is most obvious on ‘Foregone,’ which embraces the simplicity of country music by incorporating a twangy guitar and repetitive chorus. It’s a satisfying and well-crafted track, but for listeners who prefer the band’s more traditional music, ‘Foregone’ is quite forgettable.

Next on the EP is the spooky, Neil Young-esque, “Burying Davy,” followed by the lighthearted love song, “I 4 U & U 4 me.” The Decemberists take a break from playing original music towards the end of the album and instead pay homage to one of their greatest influences, the Grateful Dead. Their rendition of “Row Jimmy” is a fine and faithful version of the original, even though it lacks some of Jerry Garcia’s drug-addled charm. Covering other musicians work can remove a lot of the pressure from recording and The Decemberists certainly appear to let loose and have fun on this track; Meloy even lets out an audible laugh as the cover comes to a close. Lead guitarist Chris Funk lets emotion flow through his fingertips as he lays a beautifully bluesy solo down. Stripped of excessive production quality, “Row Jimmy” gives a welcome insight to the band in their element.

“Sonnet,” the final track on the EP, briefly exhibits Meloy’s poetic side as he describes a delightful daydream. The whimsical lyrics are reminiscent of a nursery rhyme–quite a contrast from spooky tracks like “E. Watson” and “Burying Davy. The sonnet drops off halfway into the song and gives way to an infectious horn melody. This little tune will burrow its way into your skull and stay there for days, possibly weeks.

It’s hard to believe that these six songs didn’t make it onto the full-length album. The Decemberists are so consistent that even their “outtakes” are a cut above the rest. “Long Live the King” is a terrific collection of songs that showcases the band’s talent and range, proving that everything they record deserves to be released and enjoyed. Whether they sink back into obscurity or remain at the top of Billboard, The Decemberists will continue to make great music.

Their newest album, “Mylo Xyloto,” is far and away their best record thus far, and quite frankly, one of the best albums I’ve heard this year. This long-awaited fifth album was set to release this past January but was held until last Saturday, and is well worth the wait.

The first track, “Mylo Xyloto” sets the tone of the album, creating an instrumental epic consisting of piano, clean electric guitar and an orchestral sound that fades elegantly into the second track “Hurts Like Heaven.” This brilliant combination of clean, edgy and classical undertones is a recurring theme throughout the album, taking the listener on an emotional journey through each song.

“Mylo Xyloto” seems to battle between the two sounds Coldplay has branded since their studio debut in 2000, one of ballads and soft, intellectual grace; and one of a pop, electric band. While the newer electric-pop sound shines through, the early Coldplay, the one that gave us songs like “Clocks” and “The Scientist,” is still very apparent. Coldplay has transcended into a new, fresh version of themselves—a version that mixes their past with their present perfectly.

Often criticized for being “too slow” or “too soft”, Coldplay’s “Mylo Xyloto” quiets critics with upbeat, catchy radio-worthy tunes, all the while keeping their base sound. “Princess of China,” which features Rihanna, has a hip-hop undertone to it, along with a prominent beat—the same goes for “Up in Flames,” which features a noticeably poppy sound. On the other hand, we have songs like “U.F.O” and “Up With the Birds” that keep Coldplay’s old signature sound that made them popular, with strong acoustic guitars and angelic choir background vocals.

This pairing of genres makes this album unique, creating an opportunity for everyone to enjoy a song.

I’ve been worried for some time about “Mylo Xyloto.” I enjoyed very few tracks on Coldplay’s last album (Viva La Vida) and the two singles they released for “Mylo Xyloto,” “Every Teardrop is a Waterfall” and “Major Minus” didn’t impress me much—“Major Minus” in particular. I had a notion that they were going down a road I would be reluctant to follow. A path that led into the pop music abyss and mainstream Jason Derulo-like hits.

But don’t be fooled by Coldplay’s new sound—they’re still impressively good.
The entire time I listened, it was hard to keep a smile off of my face from the sheer joy of the music, and it was damn-near impossible to stop my foot from tapping. The album has something for everyone. Want a depressing song? “U.F.O” is for you. Want an inspirational, catchy tune to run to? “Don’t Let It Break Your Heart” is yours. Need a nice pick-me-up? Crank “Hurts Like Heaven.” While listening to the album, I can envision myself driving down the road with sunny skies, watching leaves fall on my car as I cruise down Mission Road.

Not only is the music astonishingly great, but lead singer Chris Martin, yet again, proves he is one of the top writers in the music industry. The lyrics are, as a whole, based on positive things, and feature stories of self-reflection, individuality and breaking free, almost the complete opposite of their first album “Parachutes,” which was much more depressing, with tracks like “Sparks” and “We Never Change” which basically preaches giving up. Martin has grown as a writer since 2000, and it shows.

“Mylo Xyloto” is concluded with “Up With the Birds,” an inspiring, uplifting track that wraps the message of the album up perfectly. The song seems to paint a pictures of a man, telling himself to be a happy man regardless of life’s situations—a universal life-lesson many people struggle with every day. Coldplay finishes off the album with a simple line, that exudes the theme of the album: “A simple plot / But I know one day / Good things are coming our way.”

I find it hard to think of someone who won’t enjoy a single track on this album, if not the entire thing. The only complaint I had about it was that I began to miss the “old Coldplay” midway through. There really isn’t a “Yellow” or “Fix You” in this album, and, as a whole, it lacked the certain amount of sadness I’m used to seeing in their songs. I guess we have Martin’s wifey Gwyneth Paltrow to blame for the cheery lyrics, but I would have liked a little more piano ballads, though I got used to their new fresh sound.

Despite my mounting nostalgia, one thing is for certain: with “Mylo Xyloto,” Coldplay proves once again, they make bloody good music.

Keeping yourself from throwing your head around and acting completely out of character at a Deadmau5 concert is quite the task. Deadmau5 is the work of Joel Zimmerman, a 30 year old DJ who has become the face of House music. His stage name, ‘Deadmau5’ pronounced Deadmouse, refers to an experience Zimmerman had when he found a dead mouse in his computer. Zimmerman has evolved his music into a theatrical live performance, filling venues with fans wanting to dance to the electric beats being produced by the man in the mouse helmet.

There I stood, in the middle of Midland Theatre surrounded by countless, raging, fist-pumping, sweaty Deadmau5 fans. I slouched on the outskirts of the crowd in my Sperry Topsiders, grey slacks and black hoodie. A quick scan around the premises revealed people stomping around in furry boots, tiny neon bikini tops and way-too-short shorts, spinning around undulating neon lights. Their glow sticks seemed to be the sole lights in the giant venue, moving with the wave of dancing fans. I was hesitant at first, lock-kneed and texting, unable to get into the vibe of the crowd. Just the same, all I could think was: this is so cool.

The interior of the Midland looked like a huge house party– but it was a Monday night. The crowd was noticeably diverse, ranging from college party-goers to grunge-styled adults, all of them braced to dance the night away. Homemade paper mache mouse heads (modeled after Deadmau5’s iconic mouse helmet), glow sticks, and muscle tees were scattered throughout the mob. The logic behind the dress-code seemed to be ‘the more neon the better.’ The head-banging showed no signs of stopping.

I saw people dancing in the corners by themselves, gyrating insanely–not an uncommon sight at this concert. These people were content with being alone–all they wanted was to party. And in an atmosphere like this, who could blame them?

In the midst of all this, I didn’t want to be the awkward kid in the crowd that was preppy and visibly uncomfortable. I began to work my way to the front of the crowd. When pushing my way through the mob, people would let me pass them by without a word. These party-going ravers were some of the most polite people I’ve seen at a concert. Once I got to the middle, I could barely breathe due to the lingering smell of sweat, beer and the clearly recognizable reek of marijuana.

Women began throwing water off the stage and into the crowd, and now I had a clear view–and reason to want some water. I had only been in the center for a few minutes, and I was already soaked with sweat. Fans were jumping up and down around me, creating even more body heat. I felt I was slipping under the crowd, and I was certain that soon enough I was going to get trampled or elbowed by a shirtless-and-no-longer-so-polite druggie. The majority of the people around me could hardly stand up straight.

More than anything, there was the hypnotic music to drive the party atmosphere. The DJs could’ve looped a single track the entire night and I wouldn’t have ever noticed. There was a generic upbeat synth-and-harsh-bass sound pounding through the venue that kept the crowd going–which, to the spineless moshers around me, is saying something. Though Deadmau5 wasn’t even onstage, it felt like the crowd was erupting with energy and excitement. I could barely tell the difference between the songs, yet the true fans were going insane as the tracks switched between what seemed to me to be nameless DJ after nameless DJ.

Once I was immersed in the crowd, I was completely engaged in the music: I no longer worried about looking awkward or out-of-place. Unfortunately for me, these people were going entirely too hard for a Monday night, and I was by no means ready to stay out until the wee hours of the morning. With a sensation much like coming-to after a coma, I realized that my 12:30 curfew was looming. I backed out into the empty streets of downtown and headed to my car, left in amazement of what a concert could be.

The verses and choruses of “Whole Love” delve into experimentation that mirrors that of “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot”, but is padded with easy listening and ironically dark melodies much like 2007’s “Sky Blue Sky”.

The opening track, “Art of Almost”, takes the listener through a transfiguration of sounds with multiple buildups. It’s sort of like the moment in the Wizard of Oz when the tornado hits and Dorothy is whisked away to another world (sort of). The song is more haunting though, (and less bizarre). The track starts out with repetitive, simplistic synthesized beats and slowly grows into a unified, orchestra of stringed instruments (the tornado), leading into Tweedy’s opening lyrics “I can’t be so far away from my wasteland, I never know when I’m with my own hands, almost…almost…”

In the last five minutes of the seven minute and 15 second track, Tweedy and the boys ditch the synth and go for a straight guitar and drum frenzied conclusion to the track, with recently added guitarist Nels Cline channeling Radiohead the entire way there.

“Art of Almost” was the tentative interlude to what came to be an honest, nostalgic album. The rest of the tracks that follow are cold and raw songs that display a re-invented version of the Wilco that won fans over circa 1995 with the release of “A.M.” Tweedy reminisces through his lyrics, showing fans that “dad rock” can be simply cool. Songs such as “Open Mind” are coated with a country-folk haze: via slow guitar riffs accompanied by Tweedy’s musky voice. “If I could shine a light on the dark and disobeying night so young, I still sway, we’re too old for cliches”, he hums.

This contrast with tracks like “Rising Red Lung”, a straightforward acoustic folk song, and the more contemporary tunes (i.e. “Whole Love” and “Art of Almost”) were seemingly awkward the first listen through. Each song roams in a different direction than the last, but it all somehow comes together in a way that showcases all of the elements Wilco fans want to hear – country, folk-rock, experimental – it’s all there in the 12 songs that make up “The Whole Love”.

Though, by the end of the album, I was longing for another track that mirrored “Art of Almost” and its shocking fuse of instrumental grandeur. There was something about that track that left hope for the rest of the album. The folk-instilled songs that followed were still pleasing, but felt so safe for what is a pretty bold album. Tweedy uses the same essentials in “The Whole Love” that are reminiscent of the first track, but still lack the attention grabbing manner of “Art of Almost”.

Most of all, the album was refreshing. Each track on “The Whole Love” was sincere in a way that makes the album worthy of listening to all the way through more than once. It captures the experimental essence of Wilco, but stays true to their aesthetic by packing in tracks that take them back to their roots.

Three out of Four Stars

2.5/4 Stars

A single chord is strummed repeatedly as Adele’s billowy voice joins in to bring life to the story of getting revenge on an ex. “Rolling in the Deep” best known from commercials for the film “I Am Number Four” , and Adele’s most popular song, sets the tone for what is to come: a little bit of everything. The introductory chords hint at the country-western style of “Don’t You Remember,” while the ghostly background vocals will be present in nearly every song from here on out.

Adele channels many queens of the music industry throughout her album. While she may not have the hard-rock edge of “Grace Potter and the Nocturnals”, her jazzy voice shows a wider range that Potter can’t quite achieve. Yet when “Rumor Has It” starts, it seems that maybe Potter’s glam-rock vocals should be accompanying Adele. The calm before the storm of each chorus is similar to the Nocturnals “Paris (Ooh La La)”, while the slow electric guitar strums add a jazzy feeling.

Yet Adele stays true to her classically trained self as she throws in the first piano ballad of the album. “Turning Tables” showcases Adele’s incredible range while also exhibiting her songwriting skills. The empowering and inspirational lyrics like “I won’t let you close enough to hurt me…” show off her strengths and weaknesses as she declares her toxic relationship over while the violins wail and mix with the staccato bridge.

But it’s Adele’s risks that make the album really stand out. “Don’t You Remember” begins with the twang of guitar riffs instantly evoking the sound of classic country. As she bellows “When will I see you again?” the slow-dance country song sounds dismal yet takes a turn for the hopeful as the chorus picks up when drums, piano and bass are added to the mix. As the chorus peaks, the band crescendos before gently transitioning back into the country feel. The bridge is comparable to that of Jennifer Hudson’s performance in “And I Am Telling You,” from the film “Dreamgirls,” as Adele delivers the detailed chronicle of her ex falling out of love with her.

Taking a shot at R&B with “He Won’t Go”, Adele gives Alicia Keys a run for her money. Opening with trills of the piano and Adele’s fiery voice “He Won’t Go” takes “21” and Adele to yet another level of versatility. Along with her penchant for writing, Adele’s most important asset, her voice, shines in a way Alicia Keys cannot.

In an odd change of pace, Adele covers The Cure’s “Lovesong” between some of her original pieces thus disrupting the flow of the album. While Adele’s rendition sounds beautiful and is an interesting take on the number, it lacks the raw emotional power of songs written by Adele herself. By slowing the number down to a coffee-house jazz pace, we hear every bit of lackluster emotion Adele tries to muster for the song but it seems that without the personal touch of her pen to paper she loses her unique and powerful control over the music.

Throughout her sophomore album, named for the age at which she wrote the songs, Adele uses imagery as well as music to recreate the stories of past loves and give an in-depth emotional look at what she’s gone through. Like her past loves, “21” is a checkerboard of sounds and genres. “Take it All” sounds like a Gospel of declared love while “I Found a Boy” is a slow-rock gem of triumph with guitar solos akin to those in “Hallelujah” by Leonard Cohen.

Ending her album on a happier note, Adele seems to promise that there is more to come. Though it didn’t seem possible, Adele’s “21” shows even more potential than her first album “19”. At such a young age Adele has already proved her ability to cross genres as well as borders beyond the ability of many competing artists.

3.5 out of 4 stars.

If there’s one genre of music that I know I can always enjoy, it’s dance music. I bought my $41-with-tax ticket to the FROST Electronic Music Festival from the local Hen House and planned on an interesting evening.

–

Each quick scan around the venue revealed a new scantily-clad girl with gigantic furry boots and straightened hair, wearing beaded bracelets up her arms and clinging to a cell phone for dear life. There were also those who were dressed crazy on purpose: the girl in the anime Barney suit, the bright yellow chicken costume, the platform boots and multicolored wigs, and the ever-present Binky, which I was informed is a way to keep yourself from grinding your teeth while under the influence of Ecstasy.

Everywhere I turned, a different beat was thumping: there was the poorly-attended set at Indie Bar next door, and down in the basement, the B-lister DJ that rocked out on an electric violin. Speakers blasted prerecorded music by the merch tables, and DJs mixed away on the main top floor. Then, there was the main stage, the real treat.

Flashing lights shaped like fireworks enticed us as we made our way up to the front row as the first performer, Ecotek was playing (or rather, mixing while standing behind a laptop) his set. Snagging a spot to the right of the stage (in hopes that Steve Aoki, the third performer on the stage, would pay our side of the crowd a visit), we posted ourselves in anticipation for the bigger-name performers.

The performers on the main stage were dubstep artists, DJs who mix together pre-existing songs with their own beats using the genre’s characteristic bass. We listened to our fair share of dubstep before the concert, and I was more than excited to feel the “drop” (or build-up turning into a heavy bassline) into the music live.

Ecotek was good; I found myself moving along to the beat without realizing I was doing so. His stuff was upbeat and light compared to the impending beats of Excision and Aoki. The songs flowed nicely, and the bass kept everything on tempo and danceable. The same went for his following act, Marty Party, another guy with fittingly party-worthy beats and a laptop.

As Excision, a name I hadn’t heard before the concert, took the stage, I prepared myself for something much heavier. He opened with this futuristic, almost mechanic, mix that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. The massive twelve-foot-tall speakers directly in front of me thumped along with the bass, moving the gate that I was leaning on; I could see my hands shaking from the sheer force of the music. By the time his dark, hour-long set was up, I felt too burned out to enjoy Steve Aoki. How could he live up to the hype of that?

I was wrong. Aoki was the most high-energy act I’ve ever seen live, and I couldn’t help myself from jumping up and down, clapping, and headbanging along to his cutting edge beats. Aoki actually sang/yelled into the mic as needed, unlike his openers, and shot off bottles of champagne on the front row as confetti erupted from the edges of the stage. He played his two most popular songs, “Warp 1.9” and “I’m In The House,” and his hour-and-fifteen-minute set felt like a mere 10 minutes; I wanted more when he was through.

But sadly, Aoki exited stage right and Infected Mushroom went on next. We were officially too burned out to really enjoy the set, and left before the final act closed. Excision and Aoki were more than enough electro for one sitting (or rather, standing).

–

The Sunday after FROST, I spent a large portion of the day sleeping off the experience, and moaning in bed about muscle cramps and a potentially-dislodged brain (main cause being “whipping my hair back and forth”). Unlike plenty of the other ravers, my “concert hangover” came not from drugs or alcohol, but from dancing much too hard. Advil and caffeine could not cut deep enough into the lingering baseline in my bloodstream. When I finally forced myself out of bed and brushed my hair out, leftover bits of metallic blue and silver confetti strew themselves all over my bathroom floor.

As my friend and fellow-concert-goer Bob told me, “You may leave FROST, but FROST will never leave you.”

Albums

10. Gorillaz: Plastic Beach

9. Das Racist: Sit Down, Man

8. Best Coast: Crazy For You

7. Local Natives: Gorilla Manor

6. Arcade Fire: The Suburbs

5. Deerhunter: Halcyon Digest

Led by cryptic front man Bradford Cox, Deerhunter came as the year’s biggest surprise for me. Their fourth studio release and my first exposure to the group, “Halcyon Digest” excels in a way that beckons back to Radiohead’s best work. Incorporating a very ambient tone alongside the moaning and often free verse style of Cox’s vocals, Deerhunter establishes themselves as the darkest and best of Cox’s many projects.

***

4. Vampire Weekend: Contra

Refusing the notion of a ‘sophomore slump’, the ivy league scholars of Vampire Weekend released ‘Contra’ in the first month of 2010, and the final product is some of the smartest music of the year. Even after falling into the roll of a radio friendly teenage sensation, the outfit is still following through on everything that made their self-titled debut such a hit. Incorporating a wide mix of sounds and influences from around the world, Vampire Weekend makes songs that are impressive and stand tall against many of their pop rock counterparts. Everything about ‘Contra’ felt right, making it a perfect followup and a great start to the year.

***

3. Kanye West: My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

His first album since a prolonged spat with the press and masses, Kanye West returned in 2010 to reclaim his throne as hip hop royalty. “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy” serves as a culmination of the rapper/producer’s decade plus of experience and expertise in refining this genre as we know it. Moments like the simple, extended repetition of a piano’s ‘E’ note leading into a nine minute blowout on ‘Runaway’ or the devilish  Nicki Minaj breaking out with furious passion on her verse in ‘Monster’ easily make ‘Twisted Fantasy’ Kanye’s best work yet. Looking back on 2010, it’s certainly safe to say “Yeezy Taught Me”.

***

2. Surfer Blood: Astro Coast

Hailing from sunny Palm Beach, Fla., Surfer Blood took my listening habits by storm this year. Their debut ‘Astro Coast’ maintains a classic garage-rock sound all throughout, while still featuring enough reverb to keep the ‘surf’ in their title accurate. With songs titles like “Floating Vibes” and my personal favorite track of the year “Take It Easy”, the band caters to the ‘laid back’ experience, but can also handle the slow ballad unlike many other groups in their early 20s. More than anything, Surfer Blood understands the concept of ‘catchy’ and creates song after song that beg of repeat listens.

***

1. LCD Soundsystem: This Is Happening

At age 40, LCD Soundsystem’s grizzled frontman James Murphy by no means fits the role of an electronic-dance-pop messiah, but 2010’s stunning “This Is Happening” would indicate nothing less. Between heavy synth and a sense of desperation, Murphy triumphs through songs about growing old, falling in and out of love and struggling with even his most sacred beliefs. Slow build ups and heavy drops are everything throughout these nine tracks. Far removed from his youth, Murphy still has the ability to take control of the dance floor, even if the club and world around him are in pieces. Unlike any other artist this year, LCD Soundsystem was captivating and made songs that I truly loved.

Movies

10. The Fighter

9. Exit Through The Gift Shop

8. Toy Story 3

7. Ghost Writer

6. Catfish

5. Micmacs

French director Jean-Pierre Jeunet (Amelie, A Very Long Engagement) returns from a five year hiatus with a film that stays true to his whimsical style while delivering a story unlike any other.

“Micmacs” follows Bazil (Danny Boon), a man searching for revenge on the companies that made the bullet he was shot with and the bomb that killed his father. As he plans to turn the companies against each other, he is introduced to a rag-tag crew of outcasts and finds his home. Despite seeming to have a serious premise, the film is a hilarious romp through hi-jinks, friendship and love.

***

4. Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World

Scott Pilgrim (Michael Cera) is just another indie kid playing in a band, sharing a bed with his gay roommate and fighting to the death with seven evil exes in order to win the girl of his dreams. Typical.

Director Edgar Wright (Hot Fuzz, Shaun of the Dead) brings his personal touch to the comic-book world of Scott Pilgrim with rapid-fire dialogue and quick cuts. While the chemistry sparks between Scott and his paramour, Ramona (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), it’s the hilarious dialogue that surpasses every performance given. The sharp banter and battle scenes are accompanied by songs inspired by the graphic novels as well as an original score by Beck.

***

3. The Social Network

This summer, “The Social Network” delivered to the masses the unbelievable story of Mark Zuckerberg, creator of Facebook, and the struggles he faced while making his mark on the Internet and becoming a multi-billionaire.

“Social Network” not only has a brilliant script, that is funny as well as tragic, but an amazing score by the one and only Trent Reznor (Nine Inch Nails creator and frontman) and Atticus Ross.

***

2. I Love You, Phillip Morris

After a near-death experience, Steven Russel (Jim Carrey) decides to stop living a lie as a straight man and to lead a ‘gay lifestyle.’ But the one thing he didn’t realize about being gay was how expensive it is. So he does what any sensible man in this situation would do: he becomes a con-artist and ends up in jail where he meets the love of his life, Phillip Morris (Ewan McGregor). The film’s disposition is dirty to say the least, yet as Carrey delivers each punchline with a sweet southern drawl the phallic humor becomes oddly endearing.

***

1. True Grit

The Coen brothers have taken cowboys and duels to new heights with this comedic Western that not only has a sentimental side, but is also action-packed and blood-curdling. Mattie Ross (Hailee Steinfield) is a smart-mouthed 13-year-old farm girl seeking revenge on the man who killed her father.

In typical Coen brother style, the film is full of fast-paced and witty banter, but balanced with gun-fights, snake pits and plenty of blood. But the true gem of this film is Hailee Steinfield. A new face to the big screen, Steinfield portrays Mattie with a whip-smart attitude that commands the screen even as she battles established co-stars Jeff Bridges and  Matt Damon.

Artwork by Evan Nichols.

Photos courtesy of www.allmoviephoto.com and www.amazon.com.

We’re ten years into the new millennium, and the task of defining “dance music” is nearly impossible. Swimming through the flood of what kids like to move to, no longer can one genre single-handedly take the reigns. When Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream” fades into Far East Movement’s “Like a G6” without anyone breaking a heel, it’s clear that most everything the “Top 40” sells is dance floor friendly. Enter Chromeo, two Toronto boys who, in a world where auto-tune and “the dougie” can make you a star, are still dancing at disco’s grave.

Blending the best parts of ‘80s electro and funk, Chromeo’s sound is unquestionably original, yet completely nostalgic. Using an electric guitar and talk box as their tools of trade, Patrick Gernayel “P-Thugg” and David Macklovitch “Dave 1” have been making music since high school. The two hit the scene in 2002, and watched their career take off after their 2007 release, “Fancy Footwork.”

The duo’s third and most recent effort, “Business Casual” maintains their previous draw with a funky enough sound to give every foot in the room a good workout. As a personal newcomer to the group, this certainly wasn’t a bad place to start. Opening with the synthy “Hot Mess”, the band teases our tastes with a “bedroom keyboard” sound that beautifully transitions to a crisp studio song. This groove doesn’t stop as the album moves into songs like “Night By Night” and “You Make it Rough” find the perfect balance between real vocals and Chromeo’s signature talk box call and response. Macklovitch knows exactly how to handle these tracks, and slides into his spot-on vocals with class and ease.

Lyrically, things couldn’t be more simplistic. Almost every song on “Business Casual” covers the subject of love. A topic that transcends “overused,” the duo manages to avoid cliches by focusing more on the overall sound, rather than the the lyrics themselves. Keeping that nostalgic feeling in mind, these hyped up songs fall in line with much of what worked for Toto and so many other hitmakers of the 80s.

Finding the right flow within these upbeat songs, Chromeo still prove themselves to be versatile as “Business Casual” winds down. It nearly pains me that director and master of teen comedy John Hughes couldn’t have been around to hear the album’s closer, “Grow Up.” One of the mellower and more solemn tracks present, it perfectly embodies the spirit of so many of Hughes’ brat-pack flicks and practically begs for a Molly Ringwald dance montage.  Complete with a karaoke-friendly chorus of “aye yos,” Macklovitch is straight to the point grumbling that “if we can’t be grownups then we won’t grow up.” Once again, despite simplicity, the song is able to conjure up something far greater than the basic sum of its parts.

As structurally solid as “Business Casual” is, the album’s distinct style can’t save every song. Two tracks short of the fantastic closer, the band comes out of nowhere with a slow ballad sung entirely in French. While “J’ai claque la porte” has a background music kind of feel, the softly spoken lyrics don’t really touch in any way. The language barrier aside, the song really doesn’t belong here. Currently working on a Ph.D in French literature at Columbia University, the language is clearly something close to Macklovitch, but the song still doesn’t feel right. One less than stellar attempt is acceptable though considering everything we have here.

Enjoying “Business Casual” is like trying a new dish. You’ll know from the first taste whether or not you like it, and the rest likely won’t serve to change your mind. The funkafied beats and fantastic modern use of the talk box make for something that has been hard to find in the last 20 years. Chromeo had a core audience and stylistic sound in mind here, and they completely nailed it. Disco may be dead, but Toronto’s dynamic duo is absolutely here to stay.

In the context of “Kids,” “Electric Feel” and “Time to Pretend” from debut Oracular Spectacular, Congratulations is on easily digestable melodies. But taken on its own terms, the album is an inoffensive run-through of prog and psych rock stereotypes. Given their electronic background, it’s a bold move from MGMT, although coming from a less
renowned band, it would sound hackneyed. Still, the duo does manage to write a few more advanced melodies that still remain enjoyable from a pop music perspective.

“It’s Working” kicks things off with a sweet/sour mix of propulsive drums and fey harpsichord, although the melody writing is surprisingly complex, though not especially memorable. The melody probably isn’t going to be soundtracking episodes of 90210 like “Kids” was, but it’s a passable stab at Beatles-and-Byrds-style pyschedelia. The surprising energy here, lacking from most of the album, makes it a strong opener.

Followup “Song for Dan Treacy” is an equally brisk pop that sounds like early REM plus some haunted-house organ. The tune itself is ace, winding and upbeat, but the song’s topic shows the difficulty in trying to straddle the art/pop line. To some listeners, the comparison with Treacy that they invite by singing about him will seem over-the-top. After all, much of MGMT’s new sound owes a debt to Treacy’s band, the Television Personalities, already. And of course, other listeners will just ask who the hell this Dan Treacy guy is. The move is either too cutesy or deliberately obscure, but either way, it’s annoying.

This brings up the larger problem with Congratulations – MGMT’s efforts at being arty yet melodic will too often satisfy neither camp. The band’s experimental forays don’t quite get revolutionary and they’re often pretty overdone. As an example, they use a harpsichord, fairly obsolete in modern music, on a number of songs. Though that move is intended to be innovative, it feels like a cheap gimmick. At the same time, the band lacks the melodic
kick to make up for a relatively old sound. The melodies’ complexity is interesting, but a whole album of “interesting” with no hooks is pretty lame.

Case in point, “Flash Delirium” sounds like a couple of freshmen who just purchased Rubber Soul and decided to jump on the bandwagon for this “far out music.” It’s not bad by any means, but it just sounds like a generic psychedelic band. Wearing your influences on your sleeve is okay if you make music that transcends those influences, but this is just vaguely pleasant and derivative.

While their talent is a little misguided, one can’t deny the band members’ clear musical skills. “Brian Eno,” another uptempo homage, is a patchwork of ideas threaded together with tempo shifts, dynamic drumming and a sloppily enjoyable guitar and organ riffs. This is where MGMT succeeds—writing inventive songs that don’t sacrifice listenability.

On the title track, too, the band finds a stronger sense of focus, evoking the Flaming Lips’ better ballads. The band forgoes experimentalism entirely, ditches that stupid harpsichord and simply writes a pretty song. It feels blissed out in a way that’s soothing rather than boring.

Ultimately, though, too many songs end up like “I Found a Whistle,” a wistful, breezy ballad reliant on acoustic guitar and clandestine synthesizer. It makes for pleasant background music—in fact, the song has a lyric that goes “I’ll ignore real emotions, such a drag”—but ambient noise isn’t the same thing as groundbreaking art or classic pop music.

The album as a whole just feels disappointing. MGMT clearly has quite a bit of talent, whether at crafting stuck-in-your-head melodies or pushing boundaries. But they just can’t seem to find a good balance, and they eventually write too many weak songs. Of course, the album’s fate isn’t sealed:  as In Utero’s 15th anniversary rolled by, critics suddenly saw a method to the madness and heaped accolades on the album. For all we know, Congratulations might sound like aural brilliance in a few years. For now though, it’s a disappointing followup on a lot of potential.

What: An all-American alternative rock band formed in ’92, Weezer will rock audience members into oblivion with their myriad of drum-and-guitar-heavy songs. Expect a wide array of concertgoers, from the 20-something hipsters to gangly shorts-and-school-T-shirt-wearing teens.

Where: City Market

When: Friday June 4, 7 p.m.

Why: Because nearly everyone can recall at least one bar of “Beverly Hills” and lead singer Rivers Cuomo is pushing 40 and can still belt it. Taking place just a mere week after gaining freedom of the hallowed halls of East, there’s nothing like a Friday night jam session to start your summer off right.

Who: MGMT

What: Based out of Brooklyn, enigmatic figures Ben Goldwasser and Andrew VanWyngarden make up the electronic, trippy, psychedelic synth fest that is MGMT. The flashtastic duo will be making a stop in KC this summer to sport a few multicolored lights and rile up a crowd of inebriated fans. Be sure to brush up on the new songs from Congratulations, the band’s most recent album, before getting stuck standing still in the crowd, yearning for the familiar chorus of “Kids.” Where: Uptown Theater

When: Sunday June 13, TBA

Why: It may not be “Get Low” by Lil Jon and East Side Boyz but Congratulations sure provides listeners with some serious dance beats. Shake your groove thing while upping your (not so) indie cred.

Who: Backstreet Boys

What: You know, the Backstreet Boys. The denim-suit-clad boy band with high-pitched vocals and expertly frosted tips that stole every girl’s heart when you were in elementary school.

Where: The Midland by AMC

When: Monday June 21, 8 p.m.

Why: Why not? Spending an entire paycheck on a ticket may very well be worth seeing the band make an attempted comeback. Grab a few pals that can still belt out the lyrics to “I Want It That Way,” throw on your most outrageous 90s garb, and slick so much product into your hair that your head could be marketed and sold at the local Wal-Mart. Making “I Love Nick Carter” posters? Strongly advised.

Who: Michael Buble

What: The master of seduction, Michael Bublé (most likely rocking a slick deep blue- or charcoal-colored suit and complementing skinny tie) will send chills up your spine with his angelic Sinatra-esque love ballads. Dress for success in case you’re pulled on stage for a spontaneous audience-member serenade.

Where: Sprint Center

When: Saturday June 26, 8 p.m.

Why: You know you’ve seen his albums in the Border’s Café, likely accompanied by heart-shaped chocolates and other assorted Valentine’s Day novelties. Ask that sweet friend-but-not-just-friend that you met at summer camp to accompany you to a night of romance and get ready for your heartstrings to be tugged as the voice of this Canadian heartthrob fills the Sprint Center.

Who: Justin Bieber

What: The 16-year-old pop sensation who is taking the place of the Jonas Brothers as the object of obsessive affection for pre-teens everywhere. Best known for “telling you one time,” Bieber popped on the scene as Usher’s prodigy in 2009 and stole the hearts of girls all over the continent.

Where: Sprint Center

When: Wednesday July 28, 8 p.m.

Why: With tickets listed up to $530, the experience could get a little pricey. But seeing J-Biebs and Ludacris up close and personal may be enough to give you a healthy bout of Bieber Fever.

Who: Jack Johnson

What: The Hawaiian king of chill brings his soothing lyrics and acoustic-guitar-driven melodies to Bonner Springs, the night before the dreaded first day back at school.

Where: Capitol Federal Park at Sandstone

When: Monday Aug. 16, 7 p.m.

Why: Give summer the old heave-ho with a calming outdoor concert in the hazy August sunset. Bring a group of friends along and discuss your summer escapades apart while enjoying a lemonade and Johnson’s fifth studio album “To the Sea.” Shoes, optional.

Recruiting a cast that features everyone from ghetto all-star Snoop Dogg to soul master Bobby Womack, and mopey rock legend Lou Reed, “Plastic Beach” gets support where it needs it, but also sustains itself as something brilliant in its own right. The Gorillaz have always been able to successfully transcend genres, as their songs can take a listener from the lights of the dance floor, to the flows of a freestyle, and back to a slow and lyrical ballad. “Plastic Beach” seems to favor this trade off, and never quite settles for one genre in the entirety of its 16 songs.

The spread of songs is magnificent, and even the more bizarre productions, like “Superfast Jellyfish,” an upbeat cartoony ode to a children’s breakfast cereal that still finds a way to critique how offshore dumping , are worth multiple listens. Even the more serious material like “Rhinestone Eyes” grip my philosophical side with lines like “Nature’s corrupted, in factories far away.”

The great thing is, Gorillaz doesn’t even need  to fall back on their deep, well-versed, and often politically charged lyrics. The group can still produce a gratifyingly pulsing instrumental piece like “Glitter Freeze.”

When Gorillaz mastermind and creator Damon Albarn first introduced the group in 2001, the new concept of a band comprised of animated characters strayed heavily away from his traditional British rock roots with Blur and seemed a bit odd on the first listen. After listening for a long time, everything about the Gorillaz seemed natural, as Albarn’s dry and emotionless vocals were perfectly congruent with fresh hip-hop beats and electronica samples.

This is the kind of reaction I’d expect from first time Gorillaz listeners who try out Plastic Beach. It will seem a bit disjointed, and its songs may seem a bit out of order, but get past this, and what you have is a group that is changing the standards for popular music in front of our very eyes.

It’s honestly amazing how album after album, “Gorillaz” are always able to produce even better material that stands up to the extremely high quality standard they’ve set for themselves. “Plastic Beach” only serves to epitomize this fact. Presented here, is one of the few bands that I can unquestionably have faith in and always enjoy, a band that will not condescend to being a cliche, and something that I’m proud to see atop iTunes most downloaded albums in its first week of release. Spring Break may be over now, but with no regrets, I’ll be frequenting this “Beach” for many months and years to come.

Six months later after the partnership, the band’s first album, self-titled, “Broken Bells” is here, and the product is something in the middle. Broken Bells doesn’t stray too far from either of its member’s previous works,   and while staying true to their roots was somewhat to be expected, the result comes off as unpolished and unbalanced.

The album’s first track and first single “The High Road” is a nice introduction into what this collaboration could’ve been. Mercer’s vocals are enjoyable and retain the same Shins’ sound that he’s known for, but with Danger Mouse behind him, the song gets some much needed vivacity through a wide variety of electronic sounds and percussions.

Throughout Broken Bells’ 10 songs, there wasn’t enough creative variation, and   many of the songs left me with something  sounding like an overproduced Shins record. Listening to this album in hope of something new, it was a disappointment to hear tracks that sound like Mercer’s old work with a few electronic overtones and the occasional hip-hop beat.

For all that seems familiar and recycled on their debut, Mercer and Co. have a handful of elements that truly work . Four songs in, “The Ghost Inside” sneaks up to deliver the sound that I knew this band was capable of. Opening with a snare beat that’s good enough to get your knee bouncing, the song features some excellent high pitched disco fashion vocals that would make the Bee Gees proud. The track plays to the true talents of both artists, and is ultimately something that I would love to hear more of in the future.

Unfortunately, Broken Bells is only able to deliver this new sound of their own on a few occasions. If one thing is clear, it’s that Danger Mouse seems drastically under utilized on this collaboration, and his true versatility fails to show. Next to his work in the brilliant “Gnarls Barkley” duo, or even his hip-hop career with “Danger Doom,” Danger Mouse’s signature sound just doesn’t ring through as heavily with Broken Bells, and this really works against them.

What Danger Mouse and Mercer have attempted here is admirable at best. These two artists have attempted to create something that provides the best of both their impressive careers. Unfortunately, what we’re left with is an album that fails to appeal to those who want more than the Shins sound. The Broken Bells have a lot of potential, and even though their debut is nothing to celebrate, I wouldn’t count them out for future success. After all, Mercer already put it best himself in the group’s first single, “They know and so do I, the high road is hard to find”.

The site offers both local and global music from even the most obscure bands, from the new Vampire Weekend album to the enchanting Columbian melodies of the talented Juanes.  Some songs are still nine cents, but the price was increased to 19 cents last year, so any new songs are at that price. Even with the price increase, it’s still remarkably less than the standard 99 cents that iTunes charges per song, and there is no noticeable difference in sound quality between the two sites.  Along with the already low prices on gomusic.ru, the site also includes an additional 10 percent discount if you purchase an entire album.  This is one of the things that really sold me. Think the luxuries of flying first class with the budget of coach.

The site’s design is also appealing. There is a clean, organized layout, and I can search music by artists, albums and genres.   The colorful albums covering the homepage also brighten up the classic look of the site.  By pressing the ‘play’ button placed next to every song on the website, I can easily listen to a 30 second preview of the song.  It’s far from the usual sleazy-looking pirated music websites that come across as either a nasty computer virus or a lawsuit waiting to happen.

After setting up an account, users can tag artists and songs as favorites, view downloads and follow payment history with the click of a button. With the initial payment, any amount of funds can be added to begin purchases, but after the first time gomusic.ru requires users to add a minimum of $30 at a given time, equal to roughly 200 downloads. This can be inconvenient for buyers who aren’t sure how many songs they’ll be purchasing, but shouldn’t be a problem for the average music enthusiast. I’m personally nearing the end of my third bulk payment on the website, so clearly it’s not that big of an issue.

The only other drawback I found had to do with the download process.  If I download the songs directly into my iTunes library, the songs are transferred into my iPod with no problems, and listening to them on the mp3 player itself works fine. But later, when I’m sitting at my computer and want to listen to my music, any song that I downloaded from the site won’t play directly from my library.  The track link shows up as inactive, and skips to the next available song.  And when I’d try to burn them to a disk later, the same thing would happen. Majorly frustrating, but I found a solution.

After trying some different methods I realized that this only happened after I exited the iTunes window and opened it back up later. If I burned the tracks to a CD before leaving my session on iTunes, then downloaded them back into my library again from the burnt disks then the music played how it should. Though the pleasure of downloading burnt CD’s does bring the hassle of having to rename countless Track 1, Track 2 and Track 3’s. For those who get irritable waiting 30 seconds at a stop light, this might not be the site for you. I know it sounds time consuming, but I think it’s definitely worth it. Ten more minutes burning a CD is well worth the $170 or more I save with every $30 payment I make.

Sure I might have to put off watching 90210 for a few more minutes, but having to spend a little more time downloading is a reasonable sacrifice for the other incentives the site offers. Any time I forget to initially burn my downloads, the download archive on my account really comes in handy. The archive is a complete list of purchased tracks and allows each to be downloaded twice.  With this feature, a customer won’t have to buy a track multiple times if it isn’t downloaded right to begin with.  The whole process of burning and re-downloading the songs may sound like a hassle, but it really isn’t as bad as it may seem. I would most likely burn all the songs to a CD anyways, so I can listen on the road and because even software like iTunes isn’t failsafe. Music can always be lost, which is why I take the risk-free path.

Though there are a few minor drawbacks, the price and and other perks the site offers more than compensate for them. It’s like being able to legally cheat on a test.  A perfect score, minus the repercussions.

The Soft Pack’s album recipe is somewhat complicated: start with a little Beatnik strut, add a little of Johnny Ramone’s swift down beat barre chords, toss in some Ray Bans, leather jackets and finish it off with a few outdated knitted graphic sweaters. The result: a quartet of young Californian men attempting to bring punk back to the good old days.

The Soft Pack takes classic rock licks and revamps them to create hip, new sounds. To me, “Flammable” is where the album reaches its high point because of its classic sound, reminiscent of an unreleased Ramones album. The upbeat drum riffs mixed with the quickly paced guitar licks are an almost perfect introduction leading into Matt Lamkin’s regardless attitude, belting the lyrics “there was no fire, so I was fine.” This is one of the more powerful tracks on the whole album because of it’s intense vibe. I’m not a hardcore punkster, but “Flammable” has a rowdy sound that would make anyone jump into a crowd full of skin-tight ripped denim and mosh until their worn canvas shoes can’t take it any longer.

The Southern California sounds used in The Soft Pack’s new album are throwbacks to surf bands such as the Rivingtons and the Beach Boys. The seventh track,“Tides of Time,” begins with an authentic surf rock guitar lick. They completely adapt the early ’60s surfer youth sound into their own. This use of channeling the past through music can easily be compared to The B-52’s, a band whose infamous thrift store wear and beehives forever influenced the post-punk underground scene. Even though “Tides of Time” sticks out like a sore thumb amongst all of the other underground punk inspired tracks, it adds some California charm to the album.

The Soft Pack has produced a raw punk-revival album that transports listeners aboard a time-machine destined to arrive in the early ’60s. Throughout the 10 tracks, The Soft Pack tries to capture what created a bridge between the late ’50s and early ’60s, while still staying original to who they are as artists. They use sharp tongues lyrics in the third track “Answer to Yourself.” “You got a rabbit in your hat, you got a trick up your sleeve,” is sarcastically sung by Lamkin as Brian Hill’s drumming rumbles in the background. The lyrics in each track add a refreshing sense of the band’s rogue humor.

I wasn’t expecting these rule breaking rockers to be capable of producing a break-up song because of their edgy persona, which somehow ended up as the second to last track on the album. Even with that said, “Mexico” still keeps the listener hungry for more. The beginning riffs make me feel as though I’m standing in a California high-school during my senior year in ’61; my boyfriend just dumped me at our senior prom and the Soft Pack is playing our song. “I’m letting you go,” Lamkin sings as the sulky guitar chords play in the background.

I was let down by The Soft Pack’s conclusion to such a high-kicking alternative album. It was easy to press skip during a few songs, especially in between “Answer to Yourself” and “Down on Loving.” These songs had similar repetitive melodies. It didn’t help that they were right next to each other on the album. However, this doesn’t take much away from the album as a whole. Overall, the album packaged frequent electrified guitar riffs, energetic witty lyrics and catchy foot stomping verses.

You might not see The Soft Pack atop the alternative Billboard charts, but if you’ve been wondering where the punk-rock music scene has been these past few years, I think some shoes are bound to be filled by these California hoodlums. They identify everything punk music has been missing lately, and run with it in this album. This album has defined The Soft Pack as a more than worthy punk-rock band.

However, RJD2 has always had a knack for creating his futuristic beats in a way that’s more mysterious and thoughtful than many DJ/Producers (see his eerie 2002 hit, “Ghostwriter”). With his new album, “The Colossus,” he has stayed true to that same spooky style, but there are just aren’t enough songs of substance. While there are a few tracks with enough of a jolt to keep a listener riveted, parts of the album merely drone along with the feel of a dance club at three a.m. after everyone has left. Ultimately, “The Colossus” is somewhat like the cheap electric rollercoaster from the county fair, as there are at least a few fun parts, but the problem is that it doesn’t move very fast and tends to break down mid ride.

In fact, the coaster doesn’t really pick up any speed until the sixth track, “A Spaceship for Now.” A couple of the album’s earliest songs, “Let There be Horns” and “Games You Can Win,” are decent for about the first minute before the sheer repetitiveness of them sets in. “Spaceship,” however, begins with menacingly stacked minor tones that lead into what can only be described as an orgy of metallic drum noises. The song continues with more mechanical sounds reminiscent of a spaceship door opening to snatch up some unsuspecting earthlings. This all culminates with a soaring high note, which to me meant that the spaceship had launched to take the aliens back home.

Sadly, aside from “A Spaceship for Now,” there were only two other songs on the album that I’d truly classify as more than just filler tracks. Since RJD2’s music is so beat heavy, I found myself wishing throughout the album that he would feature some talented rappers or singers to complement his sound. While his songs are similar in structure to electronic groups like Daft Punk and The Avalanches, many of his beats have an extra bump that’s more hip hop than electronic, and would lend itself well to rap. “The Colossus” does have a guest appearance from a couple of relatively unknown rappers, but only for one song, and their rhymes sound grating and unimaginative.

I also noticed that RJD2 has a tendency to close out his songs in creative ways, but these endings often feel like a loop-de-loop thrown onto the end of “The Logger’s Revenge.” An example of this is the last track, “Games You Can Win (Nicolay Remix),” which ends with a fluent combination of a real piano and several voices singing in harmonious, cathedral-like tones. It’s a shame, because the average listener would probably skip to the next song before reaching the hidden gem about four minutes in.

The other two songs worth listening to on “The Colossus,” “The Shining Path” and “Crumbs off the Table,” shine through with the perfect blend of RJD2’s computerized sound and real instruments. “The Shining Path” swings along to a triplet waltz on the drums, almost like a Kansas City shuffle, along with a thudding bass line and lyrics sung by RJD2 himself. His vocals sound a bit like CeeLo of Goodie Mob and Gnarls Barkley, especially on top of the electric beat.

“Crumbs off the Table” is undoubtedly the most expressive and varied song on “The Colossus,” featuring trumpets, saxophone and electric guitar. Unlike the rest of the songs on the album, it includes funky solos from these instruments, along with an electric keyboard. But unfortunately, as I mentioned earlier, these solos don’t show up until the last minute of the song.

Overall, “The Colossus” is a solid, constantly rhythmic album that any fan of electronic music will be able to pull tracks from and enjoy. But as a cohesive and complete album, there’s just a few too many short circuits and interfering signals for the coaster to stay on track.

Ever since the release of “The Fame Monster” two weeks ago, my speakers have been blasting nothing but fast-paced beats and electronic dance jams. Lady Gaga’s edgy, fun songs can lift me from a school-related wallow and tempt me into a have-to-sing-along stupor.

When I got my first glimpse of the rising artist on a VH1 special in 2008, I was skeptical. Stefani Germanotta (stage name Lady Gaga) was obviously using shock value rather than raw talent to get her message across, right? The platinum blond hair, the insect-eye glasses, the mile-high shoulder pads — far from the norm. My opinion was this: Lady Gaga really is gaga.

But as her debut album “The Fame” rose on the Billboard Hot 100 list and I listened to her songs on the radio time and time again, I began to drop my argument and enjoy the hypnotic beats. Any car ride was made better by the song “LoveGame” or the ever-popular “Poker Face.” The lyrics were easy to remember and the sound was sharp, despite the constant techno fluff.

Through innocent investigation I found acoustic versions of “Poker Face” and “Eh, Eh (Nothing Else I Can Say)” that put my already-shrinking doubts to shame.

Lady Gaga is talented. Her bare voice, stripped of synthesizers and thumping background music, is as refreshing as a Gatorade after a two hour football practice. As a talent scout once commented after the singer/songwriter had performed live at NYU, “look out Norah Jones.”

“The Fame Monster” is a continuation of “The Fame”, showing the dark side of her celebrity experience through the metaphor of a monster. No matter how much her lyrics may seem like she’s been spitting mumbo jumbo out onto a page, she has an underlying theme throughout the two albums: fame. She goes about singing of her triumphs and woes as an international pop star, something not all listeners can relate to but something we want to be able to.

“Bad Romance”, the first track on the album, was number one on the iTunes Top 100 List within three days of release and the YouTube music video accrued millions of hits from the get-go. Though it doesn’t play in to the fame aspect as much as the other tracks, this song has a lot going for it. Enticing hooks, catchy chorus, the ability to get the party started — what more could a pop single ask for?

While she keeps her club-oriented sound and gutsy vocals, she shows a softer side with the lone ballad on the album, “Speechless” and a very bluesy ending track titled “Teeth.” These two songs show Gaga in a different light, not as the Queen of the Club, but as a singer with edge. “Teeth” stands out from the lineup with it’s brassy background music and old Louisiana style. It doesn’t seem like it would belong on the album, but she sounds so great that it makes itself right at home — which makes me like it all the more.

“Telephone,” featuring Beyonce Knowles is a song I’m predicting will shoot into the top ten on the charts. Beyonce and Gaga collaborating for another hit about phones? Don’t get me started.

As much as I may rant and rave about this album, there are a few setbacks. The majority of the songs feature a 30-second intro including many tricks of the pop trade such as moaning, stuttering and a fine mix of broken background music. As well as the wait at the beginning of the track, the majority of her songs break up the flow of the music with dialogue, which is normal for her but usually leaves the last note I sang aloud hanging in the air.

With only eight tracks on the “The Fame Monster”, you would think the album falls short, but it’s quite the opposite. Buying the lone album or even select track on iTunes gives you the opportunity to grow close to her style and enjoy the up-tempo rhythm of the songs.

When listening to this album, it’s best not to over-think it. If you just take the music as it is and enjoy it as just that — pop music — then you’ve got a good chance at going goo goo, too.

In “Man on the Moon: The End of Day,” Cudi purges his emotions using moaning vocals backed up by whiny electric beats that exemplify his new genre. Cudi is not another 50 Cent who raps about the spoils of success, nor is he another Usher whose “emotions” speak only of the drama with his ladies. Listeners won’t hear him yelling and cursing, but rather softly telling the story of his past troubles and experiences.

Growing up in a diverse suburb of Cleveland, Kid Cudi, born Scott Ramon Segrin Mescudi, didn’t have the easiest life as a child. Though this starts to come off as the stereotypical story of a rapper who went from rags to riches, Cudi’s story is different.

When he was 11 years old, his mother died after a battle with cancer. This loss was just the bittersweet trigger needed to inspire his infant hip-hop career. Normally, I tend to stay away from artists who try to draw listeners in with their sad lyrics, but for some reason, Cudi was easy to connect with.

These relatable emotions helped push him onto the hip-hop scene under the stage name Kid Cudi, with the debut of his first mixtape entitled “A Kid Named Cudi.”  The different, emotional vibe of this album is what drew me to Cudi in the beginning.  However, it was the funky, club beats of “Day ‘n’ Nite” that boosted his status as an up-and-comer within the hip-hop industry.

The idea of starting off with a slow track to ease the listener into the album has become a staple in the music industry, and “Man on the Moon” is no exception to this unwritten rule.  His monotonous lyrics in “In My Dreams” make for a slow song that listeners won’t hesitate to skip over.  However, Cudi would have been best served introducing his album with a song that better represents his style.

Cudi’s legendary yet controversial mentor, Kanye West, makes his debut on the album in Cudi’s second single, “Make Her Say.” Cudi samples Lady Gaga’s overplayed hit “Poker Face,” which blends well with the rhymes of Cudi, West and fellow rapper Common.  The song deviates from his overall “emo” style of rapping, to ac marketable style that’s more appropriate for airtime on the radio.

Songs like “Make Her Say” make it hard to take his more serious, emotional songs seriously, as they disrupt the flow and overall tone of the album.  The song would work effectively on its own, just not the way it’s packaged within this album.

Cudi’s debut album overcomes the awkward punctuations by these upbeat songs, solidifying his place among the big boys of hip-hop, regardless of age or experience.

On their first EP album, “The Distant Future,” an acoustic guitar and soft melodies were their go-to styles. Beautifully flowing chords graced most tracks (see “The Most Beautiful Girl In The Room”), with unexpected and uproarious lyrics following after. And while these types of songs are still present on their most recent album, the overall theme is digital, using their famed 1983 Casio DG-20 guitar and a recurring synthesizer.

Throughout this techno-esque CD, resident comedians/songwriters Jemaine Clement and Bret McKenzie maintain their keen sense of  humor, making blunt and utterly hilarious observations. And while the genre of music they’re playing differs, the self-proclaimed “fourth most popular folk-parody duo in New Zealand,” keep their straight-faced comedy on hand in each song.

This humor is evident from the beginning with the first track “Hurt Feelings.” Reminiscent of the song, “Muthauckas” on their self-titled second album, this track is one of the catchiest and funniest on the CD. And it earns this because it equals out on a simple, yet effective equation that has consistently shown up throughout the Conchords’ song writing career — Funny lyrics + unexpected instrumentals = hit song.

Throughout the track, Jemaine and Bret rhyme about friends bailing on them, not complimenting their meals and not calling them on their birthday. While an artist like Jay-Z rhymes about his “99 problems” and the ladies he picks up, Jemaine states with that soothing New Zealand infliction, “No one thinks about the way I feel, nobody compliments the meal,” as he refers to his friends neglecting his cooking ability. In a time of rap songs reliant on cussing and boasting, it’s comforting to hear this rap that teases and laughs in the face of hard-core songs. It’s not only comforting, it’s downright hilarious.

The Conchords used the “let’s rap about everyday things” strategy on their first albums with the songs “Hiphopapotamus vs. Rhymenocerus” and “Boom,” but are lacking these types of tracks in their most recent. Instead, they are replaced by songs that sound like they belong on Lady Gaga CD, with plenty of heavy synthesizer hooks and whiny lyrics.

These faux-Lady Gaga songs have gained popularity on iTunes, but may upset true Conchords supporters. But even if they lose a couple of dedicated followers, their modern and youthful approach to comedy should bode well with fans.

In the ninth track, “Too Many (expletive) (On the Dance Floor),” this new approach is instantly made noticeable with a deep synthesizer intro, setting a futuristic, dance club tone for the rest of the song. While the heavy beat echoes, Jemaine  proceeds to rant about how there are too many men on the dance floor, and not enough women. With each contorted word that escapes from their mouths, the humor builds. Sounding like a New Zealand T-Pain, Jemaine proclaims, “the only boobs I’ll see tonight will be made of origami.” Each word he says oozes with the band’s undeniable originality, as they make this comedy work in a seemingly electronic jam.

The techno strategy is spot on in this track, but it is ineffective in others. In the song “Fashion is Danger,” the humor is ultimately lost because the repetitive beat becomes tired and annoying as the song goes on. Consequently, it becomes a song you should skip. Throughout the album, there are many boring and comedy-impaired tracks that fit in this same category.

The main reason they earn this title is because the comedy doesn’t translate from their HBO series to the album. Some of the humor is lost when not seen in the context of an episode. But luckily, there is an abundance of songs that are relatable and universally funny, without the aid of live action.

One notably solid track is “Carol Brown,” which returns Bret and Jemaine back to their classic form, singing a soft yet humorous ode to Jemaine’s  failed relationships in the past. The cleverly written lyrics truly make the song, just as they do in the bonus track, “Pencils In the Wind.” Like a classic Conchords love song, this track compares relationships to office supplies.

These soft love songs, not to mention the upbeat rap songs, never fail in producing laughs, but the cutting edge material receives mixed results. But despite the few poor tracks, the dry and utterly hilarious sense of humor overpowers all. And although I enjoyed the first albums more than this one, the third installment of the Conchords music saga is still worth a buy.

I mean, it’s only a few bucks, doesn’t the “fourth most popular” band deserve that much?

If you know me, then you’re already aware. But if you’re just getting aquatinted with the man behind the words, I’ll let you into my world and let you know – I’m a Paramore fan. And a huge one at that. They are, without question in my mind, my favorite band. Want proof? I pre-ordered their newly released album “Brand New Eyes” three months before it came out on September 29th. And I’m not ashamed of letting the world know.

I discovered Paramore’s greatness when I was in my mom’s 2005 Chevy Tahoe on the way home from dinner with my grandma. Not exactly you’re ideal music discovery expedition, but none the less thats where I found them.

When I got back from the expedition I got onto my computer and looked up the song I had heard on the radio, which was “Misery Business.” I found that this Paramore wasn’t half bad so I bought their entire album “Riot!” and listened to it sparingly. But I ended up falling in love with their sound. I learned a few of their songs on my guitar and decided that these guys were the real deal.

Paramore released their first album, “All We Know is Falling” in 2005 and signed with the record label Fueled By Ramen Records. Their sophomore album, “Riot!” came out two years later in 2007 and captured two million hearts around the globe using their inspirational lyrics and highly energetic persona. But “Brand New Eyes” is a smidgen different than all of their two previous records. In “All We Know Is Falling” it was more of a grudge emo, angry sound, with heavy guitar riffs. But this was probably because because the band was going through their teenage angst stage and family problems flowed throughout the band. “Riot!” on the other hand, changed slightly by taking all of that anger and putting it into a positive effect and making lighter sounding progressions.

In “Brand New Eyes,” Paramore seems to take everything down a notch and tends to seek a more acoustic sound that makes this record more theatrical. It’s more chilled and laid back with slower beats and more a relaxed tone. The first time I listened to the entire album I was on the verge of freaking out. I kept thinking, “Where did paramore go?” “Why did they do this?” But the more I listened the more I began to love the album. They take a lot of risks that not a lot of bands usually take. For example, in a few of the songs on this record, they take lead singer, Hayley Williams, and guitarists, Josh Farro and Taylor York, on what sounds like folk acoustic guitars, yet they don’t lose their natural alternative sound.

The reality is, even if you are not a huge Paramore fan you’re going to love this album either way.

For instance, I heard the song “Brick by Boring Brick,” I was in love with it. I was initially drawn to the song through Hayley’s use of straining her voice and softening it at the right moments. The drum beat is insanely catchy. Drummer Zac Farro uses a “Smoke on the Water” approach and basically punks it into the new century.

Another song that I had a great fondness for was “Careful.” This song is the definition of alternative rock. I can picture Paramore rocking their ass’ off when they perform this song. They use stops and the element of pause in this song to build up anticipation for the listener, and then erupt with passion. It’s the complete package. The bass line is very impressive so for all you wanna-be bass players, check this song out. This song also defines everything Paramore has gone through and become in the past four years with an almost band break up, and other well hidden drama.

But a few of the songs in “Brand New Eyes” are a little more sketchy than I’d like. Though I adore all the chorus’ in all of these tracks, the verses in “Misguided Ghosts,” “Where the Lines Overlap,” and “Playing God” I think could have been worked on more. They don’t seem like they we’re the best and final product.

It would be cliche for me to say Paramore is back and better than ever, but thats exactly what’s happening here. Even through two years of basic torture and waiting between “Riot!” and “Brand New Eyes,” it was worth all of the wait. The album brings everything to the plate. Fantastic lyrics, non-stop energy, stupid cool guitar parts, and scary good beats. The problem I have with the record is most of the songs are in the same key. It gets obnoxious but after a few listens you don’t notice it that much. I’m giving this album a 3 1/2 out of 4 stars.

http://www.paramore.net/album/brand-new-eyes/

Lead singer/songwriter/guitarist/ piano player Will Anderson has been playing with bassist Alex Hargrave and drummer Johnny Stubblefield since they were in high school in Charlottesville, NC. Together they began a band and started playing in shows around their town. Once in college, Will met guitarist Nate McFarland and Parachute was born. With music influences of Coldplay, Weezer, Ben Folds, The Fray, and Arcade Fire, Parachute creates their own unique and diverse kind of sound that captivates listeners all over.

Parachute makes their own extraordinary sound with two guitar harmonies that contrast an acoustic and an electric perfectly, along with a beat that gets your fingers tapping along. The down side to this album is their diversity in the topic of the songs. All of them are about love. Getting the girl. Losing the Girl. Wanting the girl. You get the point. It seems like they just sat down and wrote about past relationships and called it good. I would have liked to have heard different stories. But on the up-side, they really work their bridges into sounding more like a sweet, peaceful viola solo than a blatant bridge that seems out of place. The verses are well thought-out and well sung. The vocalist has a boy-bandesk voice and takes up about 70% of the listeners headset, which goes well to a sick jazzy feel beat and guitar chords that make you ponder how they even came up with the progression. Will Anderson really loves to go into falsetto. Maybe a little too much for my liking but if you’re into falsetto then you’re going to enjoy him.

Arguably the best song on the record, hands down, has to be “She Is Love.” Its very slow, very mellow, and very powerful. Right off the bat you’re thrown into a story about a guy who is deeply infatuated with this gorgeous girl. With Will scating on an acoustic guitar while singing you feel like your being personally serenaded.˜˜ At only 2:26, the song is short and extremely sweet. Chicks are all over this song. Guys, serenade your girl with it. I rate it 5 out of 5 stars.

The beginning of this track “All That I Am” has a serious Ben Folds feel. It is like the cement to the record. After this song, you really get the feel that these guys have true talent. The vocals are better than Madonna with falsettos that kick ass It has a jumpy build-up beat that gets you tapping your foot. With Kings of Leonesk “oh, oh’s” in the back-round the song becomes a ballad. Its a genuinely solid song. This is one of two songs on the album about heart break while the rest are about love. At the beginning of this song you expect it to be another song about a thriving relationship that couldn’t be better but in fact it’s the exact opposite. which makes it ironic as hell. With a happy music part, and a depressing sad vocals, the contrast is epic. The problem is, it seems to be a little repetitive at times and its a little long. But none the less, its a great song. 4 out of 5 stars.

There is no doubt that this is a great album. There are a few parts where i feel like they tried too hard to be indie by adding some sketchy guitar parts that sound like they are trying to be more that just Parachute. Like they are trying to be different. But i don’t want different. I want Parachute. The vocals are phenominal, and the guitarists are intriguing and overall I enjoyed listening to the album. I can’t wait to see what their next single sounds like.

Four Out of Five Stars

Photo Credit to artistsdirect.com

But with their new album “Raditude,” Weezer has lost their creativity and sound more like contestants in a middle school battle of the bands. The best way to describe the majority of “Raditude” would be as swimming pool rock. Imagine walking barefoot on wet concrete as a kid, eating a drumstick and pretending to look at the diving boards that happen to lie just beyond the older girls sunbathing in bikinis. Then recall the pop rock song playing on Mix 93.3 in the background.

Diehard fans would probably retort that part of Weezer’s charm has always been the catchiness and simplicity of their songs. On “Raditude,” they’ve kept the simplicity but none of the old emotion or creativity.

The album’s second song, “I’m Your Daddy,” should be the theme song for the guy at every rock concert who seems like he gorilla-glued his hands to his girlfriend’s stomach before the show. From cheesy lyrics like, “I swear I ain’t like those other boys, I’m a special kind” to the monotonous melody, it’s the kind of thing Weezer has done before in a much more original way with songs such as “Buddy Holly.”

Even after that, I kept telling myself that the band was just warming up with a couple of guaranteed radio hits, until I heard the fourth song, “Can’t Stop Partying.” With hardly any guitar playing and a synthesizer looped over a popping beat a la Lady GaGa, it initially seems like Weezer is making fun of all of the hit factory songs crowding the FM today.

But then Lil’ Wayne’s croaking voice appears out of the blue for all of 30 seconds to remind the listener for about the millionth time that he also parties pretty hard and needs to “stop mixing alcohol with pharmaceuticals.” It’s possible that they added this to strengthen the humor of their take on a formulaic party song, but it comes across as a serious attempt to make it onto everyone’s Saturday night playlist.

I’ve come to expect the “let’s throw Lil’ Wayne in for a few verses and it’ll automatically be a hit” strategy from artists like Jay Sean, but it’s completely out of place on a Weezer album. The first three songs on “Raditude,” while nowhere as good as classic Weezer songs like the fluently syncopated “Say it Ain’t So,” are okay if taken for what they are: simple pop songs. But with “ Can’t Stop Partying,” Weezer takes selling out to a whole new level.

The other song on “Raditude” that really misses the mark is the seventh track, “Love is the Answer.” With rhythmic Indian drumming, a sitar and a high-pitched female voice singing in Hindi, it would be hard to tell that this song is even by Weezer if it weren’t awkwardly sandwiched in the middle of the album like a psychedelic Sergeant Peppers interlude. It’s not a terrible song, but like “Can’t Stop Partying,” it’s nothing compared to the quirky, hard-rocking Weezer that I’ve always loved.

While Cuomo does rip out a cool solo on the ninth track “In the Mall,” and the second to last song “I Don’t Want to Let You Go” has an interesting three part harmony and a doo-woppish bass line, it’s too little too late. “Raditude” is mostly a swimming pool pop rock album with a couple of incredibly boring songs such as “Put Me Back Together,” which sounds like it was written by an overly emotional humpty dumpty.

I’m all about hearing my favorite bands experiment with new things musically, but Weezer has definitely gone in the wrong direction with “Raditude,” which is the latest in a string of questionable albums for the band. Their other latest releases, “The Red Album” and “Make Believe” have failed to reach any popularity beyond their initial singles.

Ironically, “Raditude” definitely isn’t radical, and has very little, if any attitude. Hopefully Weezer can write this off as an experimental album and get back to the crunchy-yet-witty brand of rock that they do best.