Press Play – Album Reviews

You know how the old-style lunch counter Blueplate downtown, despite its tattooed staff and modern décor, feels more authentic and tastes way better than any cheesy ’50s-style diner? So too does Murder Mystery sound a cut above any self-aware act, with its blues-tinged stripped-down half-Beach Boys, half-Buddy Holly style.

Murder Mystery

Are You Ready for the Heartache Cause Here It Comes

****

You know how the old-style lunch counter Blueplate downtown, despite its tattooed staff and modern décor, feels more authentic and tastes way better than any cheesy ’50s-style diner? So too does Murder Mystery sound a cut above any self-aware act, with its blues-tinged stripped-down half-Beach Boys, half-Buddy Holly style. Were the album any longer, it would get boring, but Are You Ready… clocks in at a mere 32 minutes with 12 songs, all of which are joyful and unassailably danceable. If you’re embarrassed to bop your head like a ninny when you listen to your iPod, this might not be for you. But for those who swing otherwise, Murder Mystery brings pure sock-hoppin’ happiness to the table.

-Jesse Thiessen

The Billionaires

Really Real For Forever

***1/2

With their blasé band name, unknown record label recognition and chic “we’re so ordinary” photography, The Billionaires don’t seem to be much different from any other kitsch indie-pop outfit. But after taking in the ups and downs of their album Really Real For Forever, the band deserves more credit. The Billionaires’ catchy sound doesn’t really fuse to one genre-tracks seem to range in influence by decade or era, covering everything from anthemic pop to upbeat electronica. But between alternating male/female vocals and generally sunny presentation, it usually works. The album isn’t perfect, but for what it is, the few aural blemishes present are easy enough to look past.

Steve Haske

Weinland

La Lamentor

1/2

“God here I come. Heaven above. Give me a gun. God here I come. You are the one who breaks. I am the one who takes. You are the one that breaks. Tell me my love, what have you done…” This is just one short example of the lyrical talent of Weinland, who could be politely described as a yawn-worthy, Southwestern-soaked acoustic ensemble. Though the band takes some minor influence from Ryan Adams, songs are reminiscent of a mash-up of old acoustic Belle and Sebastian (without the personality) and tracks that would sound more at home on an episode of The OC, provided it was set in El Paso. Either way, the guitars are a one-trick pony, and John Shearer’s lilting vocals have all the emotional resonance of a bag of cement. I pity any of the guy’s ex-girlfriends who were forced to listen to this crap.

Steve Haske