Turkey Shoot 2003

Putatively musical sounds from hunger, for the fan of the future in a very disastrous year


Born September 19, 1951, Lanois has mortality on his mind, and "I Love You" nails it: "Come sure, come soon, come leave just one song/One song, one beat, one dust, one end, one for all/One stone for the marking for the dream when it falls." But this isn't literature, and since true fatalism requires a steely resolve that the failed humility and fake passivity of Lanois's gauzy sound don't comprehend, I pray somebody makes those lines worth hearing. Or no, not pray—there's enough of that in "Shine," a hymn to Sol, and "Falling at Your Feet," a hymn to God. C PLUS

The doubly misleading Darryl Worley
photo: Dreamworks
The doubly misleading Darryl Worley

De-Loused in the Comatorium

The most unrepentantly prog band to break in years began when Puerto Rico-born guitarist Omar Rodriguez-Lopez and Mexican American vocalist Cedric Bixler Zavala rejected At the Drive-In's post-hardcore strictures, with Rodriguez citing salsa as a crucial influence. But his guitar montunos aren't salsa any more than Jon Theodore's Haiti-inflected heavy-muscle drumming is vodun. Salsa requires a groove, which the old people know embodies the community to which each individual is subordinate—such as At the Drive-In's forward thrash, which subsumes the complex songforms and explosive guitar from which the Mars Volta audibly proceed. In the case of Rodriguez's phrases and noises, romantic individualism has its uses. But Bixler's highfalutin inanities—the imagined dreamlife of a suicidal artist, all clotted surrealism and Geddy Lee theatrics—need whatever subordination they can get. C PLUS

To Whom It May Concern

The first surprise is that the Glen Ballard AOR isn't worse. The second surprise is that she wrote the intense if clumsy lyrics herself. The final surprise is that seven months after its No. 5 debut nobody remembers it ever existed except Elvis fan clubs, the Church of Scientology, the president of Capitol Records, and maybe, just maybe, Jann Wenner. C

Vintage Slide Collections From Seattle, Vol. I

There are those who would say that we're full of ourselves/Well we'd have to agree as we strongly believe in what we do," preen the father and daughter who front the archest musical act ever to beguile connoisseurs of the naive, the homemade, the outside, the ironic, and the godawful. Illustrated folk-rock ditties that could make a Langley Schools Music Project fan blow lunch if he hadn't already blown his lunch money. If only Sub/Pop had signed Dad's real band. C MINUS


Likes his mom more than his boss likes his, and will need the house he plans to buy her sooner than he thinks. C PLUS

The Wolf

Median track length, I Get Wet: 3:07. Median track length, The Wolf: 3:59. The steroids or the frat boys have gone to his head. C PLUS

Have You Forgotten?

So united are we that few Voice readers are even aware of the title song, which spent seven weeks atop the country chart hawking the Iraq war with the doubly misleading refrain, "And you say you shouldn't worry about bin Laden/Have you forgotten?" (To be perfectly clear, no sane American says don't worry about bin Laden, and no honest one claims he had anything to do with Iraq before we devastated it.) Also included are permission to a P.O.W. to cut Darryl off on the interstate, a white-collar grunt screwing a Mexican hooker, a blue-collar grunt running away with his cashier girlfriend, a lament that the Civil War was ever fought, and "Those Less Fortunate Than I," a rare and convincing argument that he and his listeners bear some responsibility for the inner city. Nor does this last seem a p.c. smokescreen. More likely Worley's just a thoughtful guy who watches too much Fox News. Which doesn't make his smash an iota less evil. C MINUS

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