Lil Wayne’s long-overdue Tha Carter V, plus High On Fire and more in this week’s music reviews
Music Reviews music review
Death Valley Girls, Darkness Rains
[Suicide Squeeze Records]
Grade: B
Death Valley Girls take their name very seriously. Born of the same L.A. scene as such practitioners of the dark, female-led garage-rock arts as La Luz, L.A. Witch, and Dum Dum Girls, the five-piece—for now; outside of vocalist/multi-instrumentalist Bonnie Bloomgarden and guitarist Larry Schemel, the lineup rotates with each album—embraces the doom-laden side of the California mythos on its new album, Darkness Rains. Lyrically, that translates into chant-along choruses about eating brains, occult powers, and how “from now on I’m only wearing black.” Musically, the group’s sound is looser and more ferocious than some of its contemporaries, embracing atonal saxophone à la X-Ray Spex and swaggering scuzz-rock riffs along with the psychedelic guitar, sinister organ, and heavy, pounding drums you’d expect from a garage-rock revival band.
RIYL: All of the bands mentioned above, plus Black Sabbath through broken speakers, Girls In The Garage comps, and worn-out VHS copies of The Craft.
Start here: Lead single “Disaster (Is What We’re After)” is a Bikini Kill-style empowerment anthem whose kitschy take on classic punk can be pretty much summed up by its music video, an unbroken four-minute shot of Iggy Pop eating a hamburger. [Katie Rife]
Swearin’, Fall Into The Sun
[Merge Records]
Grade: B
The first Swearin’ album in five years finds the indie-punk band (vocalist-guitarists Allison Crutchfield and Kyle Gilbride, and drummer Jeff Bolt) in a reflective, restless mood. The grungy, harmony-laden opening track, “Big Change,” reminisces about an old life, and then describes leaving it behind; the stripped-back, acoustic “Anyway” is a laser-sharp dissection of what it feels like to move on (and away) from a relationship; and the seething ’90s indie throwback “Stabilize” examines the curious situation of actually getting what you want. Swearin’ pairs these ruminations with vivid imagery (“The past rests neatly over us like oil”) and asks questions with no easy answers: “If I never left home, would you still feel alone? / If I never left home, would you still feel like you’re alone?” Throw in self-assured arrangements that underscore the band members’ collective musical growth, and the result is that Fall Into The Sun feels like a triumphant return.
RIYL: All other Crutchfield-related projects. Nostalgia for the past. That Dog. Rilo Kiley.
Start here: “Grow Into A Ghost,” a stirring punk-pop surge with bee-stung guitars that’s full of romantic uncertainty and the kind of free-floating anxiety that causes emotional paralysis. [Annie Zaleski]