Evil Powers Of Rock ‘N’ Roll


You’ve got to hand it to the Supersuckers. After four proper rock albums, the music of Eddie Spaghetti and his cohorts has managed to evolve not one bit. True, there was 1997’s country album Must’ve Been High, but its title dispelled any questions about the switch in genre. With this latest release, the hick-punk pioneers churn out 13 rambunctious tunes of raucous, bad-ass rock ‘n’ roll, complete with sprawling guitar solos and wah-pedal overload. Throughout the album, the band pays tribute to all it holds dear—alcohol, sex, drugs and violence. “Santa Rita High” is an ode to cutting school, while “Cool Manchu” is a reckless, glam-riff-laden anthem condemning political correctness. You can practically smell the cheap beer on Spaghetti’s breath. This album feels like a drunken, out-of-control ride in a rusted pickup truck. Don’t be fooled—these 13 songs in 35 minutes leave you well-spent and not particularly yearning for more. At least not until the hangover wears off. —Akash Goyal

Chappaquidick Skyline

Chappaquidick Skyline

Sub Pop

Remember when the Beatles broke up and everyone thought they reformed as the softcore bubble-gum balladeers Badfinger? Now Badfinger has reformed under the super-cool name of Chappaquidick Skyline. OK, maybe that’s not entirely accurate, but the new band of Joe Pernice, former mastermind of sad country bummers Scud Mountain Boys and lushy popsters Pernice Brothers, delivers soft and subtle ballads right off the early-’70s Apple label. The harmonies in “Everyone Else is Evolving” and “Courage Up,” matched with swirling strings, piano and slide guitar, are George Harrison-without-the-sitar specials. Pernice goes halfway back to the Eagles-esque alt-country buzz of the Scuds with “Hundred Dollar Pocket” and “Theme to an Endless Bummer” crying over a slowly strum acoustic. But throughout this drinking album, Pernice’s smooth and breathy voice coats a sedating syrup over simple acoustic guitar, bass and drums. Don’t listen to this while you’re driving. —Bill Jensen


Tha Streetz Is a Mutha

Antra Music Group

Kurupt the Kingpin, one half of the Dogg Pound Gangstaz, goes back home, gathers everyone from the original Death Row camp and delivers his sophomore solo set. “I Ain’t Shit Without My Homeboyz,” featuring Daz, Soopafly, Baby S and Crooked I, sums up the whole posse attitude found throughout this CD. Kurupt achieves a longtime dream in making a record with lyrical legend KRS One. “Live On the Mic” has them straight freestyling for five-plus minutes. Mentor Dr. Dre joins Kurupt on “Hoe’s A Housewife.” Then there’s the finale, on which Kurupt goes after all those he feels have dissed him recently. No need to guess who he’s talking about because, as the title suggests, he’s “callin’ out names.” This album should have been called Life After Death Row. —A. J. Woodson


Kincaid Plays Super HawaiiI l


It’s about time that modern-rock bands acknowledged the perks of the under-appreciated 50 states. Although Kincaid hasn’t patronized every one of them like John Linnell’s recent State Songs, the second full-length from this New York/Georgia quintet includes songs that depict the splendor of Hawaii, California and Alaska. The indie-pop supergroup (whose members include Kindercore founders Dan Geller and Ryan Lewis, as well as Masters of the Hemisphere’s Sean Rawls) integrates its fun-loving pop with banjo, glockenspiel, accordion and strings. But they offer a lot more than just sugary sweet-nothings. There’s a healthy stream of ’60s British pop flowing through frolicsome lyrics, while a trumpet washes in romantic melodies like “Plot #36” and “Bells Will Ring.” Their sound owes a great deal to the Beach Boys, but Kincaid updates it cleverly, surfing through gorgeous vocals and sleepy harmonies. —Kenyon Hopkin


On the Might of Princes

The Making Of a Conservation

Rok Lok

Over the past year and a half, this Suffolk outfit has steadily established itself as one of the Island’s most exciting emo-rock bands. This latest album documents the group’s finding its footing amidst a tangle of frenzied guitars and pounding rhythms. OTMOP is most captivating when it deftly alternates between moments of pastoral reflection and shouted intensity. You’re always in anticipation of that moment when the guitarists are about to shatter their delicate arpeggios and strumming with the mere tap of a distortion pedal. Lead singer Jason Rosenthal lends the songs an air of vulnerability, while guitarist Lou Fontana and bassist Tom Orza add punctuating unison screams and counterpoint vocals. As good as this CD is, though, it’s not a patch on the group’s absolutely searing live shows. Contact: —Theo Cateforis

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