CD Reviews

Boys Noize Oi Oi Oi [Remixed] Boysnoize Records, 2008 ♥♥♥♥	Following close on the heels of last year’s debut album, Oi Oi Oi, Boys Noize returns with a remixed version of that same album, fittingly titled Oi Oi Oi [Remixed]. But don’t be fooled — this follow-up has a completely different sound, thanks to the superb mixing abilities of Siriusmo, Feadz Aval Aval, Apparat, Proxy, Para One, and Housemeister, who have each taken a track from the first record and pushed them to the next level. For those unfamiliar with Boys Noize, it is the moniker of Alex Ridha, a German techno-electronic producer who has previously released EPs under names 909d1sco and Kid Alex and has recently remixed tracks for artists such as Feist, Depeche Mode, Marilyn Manson and Snoop Dogg. Yet, it is his own original work on Oi Oi Oi and his collaborations on Oi Oi Oi [Remixed] that really impress, demonstrating the depth and potential of his talent. How can Boys Noize sound be described? If you remember Daft Punk, then you’re halfway there. If you’re thinking “four times punching into a fried egg!” (Fact magazine), then Alex Ridha himself would agree. But perhaps the best way to convey his sound is with the power of your own imagination — just close your eyes, grab a glow stick, get your moon boots on, and picture yourself moving your body to some of the most infectious, pummelling and instantly likeable club tunes in years. — Andrew Lacasse
Vampire Weekend Vampire Weekend XL Recordings, 2008 ♥♥♥♥	"Well, let’s not start sucking each other’s dicks quite yet." — The Wolf (Pulp Fiction) The touchstones are palpable on Vampire Weekend’s hyped-to-death self-titled debut album. But therein lies the principal concern with the hyper-upper-middle-class-washed vision, musically imagined by the quartet from New York City; every Afropop polyrhythm, ’80s new-wave sonic texture and Dharamsala reference is too obvious, pristine and deliberate. Where is the clash? If the creative shtick is to subsume deliberate, conspicuous pilfering of music — indigenous to a mystifying, severe black continent, and characteristic of a punk, obstinate state of mind — then the product should scream agony, not moan complacency. Nearly each element of every track on the album is classically assembled, from the balanced not-too-much-angst-just-enough-cynicism vocals of Ezra Koenig (“Oxford Comma”) and mollified African chants (“M79”) to restrained violins (“I Stand Corrected”) and ubiquitously distortion-free guitars. This classical craftsmanship is effectual for testimonials but futile for ingenuity, so the band habitually becomes vassals to their superior influences: in particular, Paul Simon’s Graceland album. Staunch defenders of Vampire Weekend will point to the ingenious, enchanting empty spaces that they create amidst the jaunty “whitewashed” world music. But with a band that lacks even a modicum of modernity, those empty spaces simply act as welcome breathers until the next anti-droll, esoteric, music-critic sound candy, lyrical reference. Artists like Vampire Weekend are better forgotten until, per New York Magazine, “Zach Braff discovers a hip, new underground band called ‘Vampire Weekend’ [and] adds them to the soundtrack for his new movie, a coming-of-age story about Zach Braff sleeping with whichever currently popular 22-year-old actress is the hottest.” — Ajitpaul Mangat, staff
Samuel James Songs Famed for Sorrow and Joy Northern Blues, 2008 ♥♥♥♥	One can’t help but tap one’s toes and bob one’s head along to Samuel James’ Songs Famed for Sorrow and Joy. The engaging rhythm, tempo and James’ clear, yet growly and gruff voice all heighten the innate energy within the blues songs he performs. There is a balanced mix of fast, toe-to-whole-foot-tapping songs and slow, almost lazy blues. “Wooooooo Rosa” encapsulates the whole continuum of this range of tempos. Songs Famed for Sorrow and Joy gave me a pleasant vision of an impromptu group of musicians getting together and jamming on a country porch on a relaxed, sunny, summer afternoon. Everything I’d expect out of a true blues album is on Songs Famed for Sorrow and Joy: talk-singing storytelling, whistling, impressive finger-picking, affirmative grunting (“Mmm hmm!”), and, of course, the use of accelerando. But none of these tools are gimmicky; they are used in a precise and engaging way. One of the only criticisms I have of this album is the song order. For example, the switch from the tranquil ending of “Sugar Smallhouse and the Legend of the Wandering Siren Cactus” to the blunt and bold “Sleepy Girl Blues” was a little assaulting. Now that spring has sprung, this album will help you melt those winter sorrows away and top you off with some summer joy! — Jacqueline Hogue, staff