Love of Diagrams: One listen to their forthcoming Mosaic and you know overrated is an overrated assessment. Prolapse did this years ago, and I didn't snooze.
The Ponys: Turn the Lights Out isn't the brand new groundbreaker Matador wants you to believe it is; someone already made this album and did it better, and it was called either Sister or Daydream Nation or even Goo (now there's an insult). That's not to be an old fart; Renaldo& Moore could sue on a few tracks.
Dinosaur Jr.'s Beyond contains two Lou Barlow songs. A-list Lou Barlow songs. There was other stuff on the album, during which I held my breath and almost died because it sounded like Where You Been.
Apostle of Hustle's National Anthem of Nowhere isn't all that amazing, but it beats the pants off of any Broken Social Scene record.
Marnie Stern's In Advance of the Broken Arm captivated me for a few days. Stern's writing some goofy, surreal poety that infrequently surpasses high school-grade stuff, but she's not always sublime. You can also find fifty guys on the LES in NYC who can play guitar like her, some even with tits. But none look like her; thus, she fires up the indie rock sausage party mafia.
Man, did Friend Opportunity wear off on you like it did me?
Ted Leo's new album should be shelved. It's that bad. Low's Drums and Guns still has me interested after a coule weeks, with its knotty, roundabout anti-war sentiments, along with some great studio invention, rather than replacement bass, following the loss of longtime bassist Zak Sally.
Sally Shapiro sounds like Stacie Q. Hated it then, hate it now. Two of hearts, two of shit.