Listening Station: Jay-Z and El-P, Industry, Luna, Neko Case, Way Out West

R. Kelly & Jay-Z

Unfinished Business

When he announced his retirement from the rap game, Jay-Z was repeatedly asked why he would decide to call it quits when he was so securely positioned at the top of the charts. His response was a reference to one of his idols, Michael Jordan. See, Mike called it a career in his prime, concluding with a dramatic championship win, only to return to the game in less-than-perfect fashion, which, in Jay-Z's eyes, slightly diminished an otherwise perfect reputation. And Jay said he just wouldn't want to go out like that, somewhere other than on top.

Sadly, Jay has mimicked Mike's worst move, as Unfinished Business becomes the great MC's own personal Washington Wizards.

The concept of cutting one's losses is evidently not unique to the world of hip hop. R. Kelly and Jay-Z, rulers of their respective domains of R&B and rap, collaborated on the full-length vanity project Best of Both Worlds in 2002. But Kelly's much-publicized problems with the law stopped the duo from touring and fully supporting the record, and Unfinished appears to be the answer to the older album's failure. The truth is the first disc sucked, and the second one is even worse.

It is simply unbelievable that two of the most successful pop artists of the last 10 years cannot come together to craft a single solid song. But given 11 more chances, they fail once again. Many of Unfinished's tracks are remixes or new versions of songs from Best of, and once again, few stand out.

The disc has much more R. than Jay, as Kelly opens on "The Return" with a bizarre impersonation of Slick Rick. (Rick shows up on the album's closer, a remix. Does every song need to be remixed?) Kelly, of course, takes over on the obligatory slow jam, the excruciating "Feelin' You in Stereo." On "Break Up," a tune touting the merits of post-argument coitus, he lets loose with this gem: "It's somethin' `bout the p-u-s-s-y/that keeps a brotha in check, even I."

On his own albums, Kelly is the modern-day Marvin Gaye, carrying on the sex vs. spirituality battle, but he apparently phones it in for the, as he calls them, "collabos."

Likewise, Jay-Z, who delivered his most personal work in his swan song The Black Album, lazily reverts to the played-out clichés of his constantly devolving genre. "I ain't back yet," he calls out on "Stop." Sadly, that might be good news.--Brock Radke

Industry

Preservation America

Industry has slipped into the foggy limbo awaiting local bands that don't break up or break out within five years, a purgatory where acts excel at a style of music that, alas, is no longer in vogue. See, Industry has been around since 1997, and in this era of garage rock, hip hop and candy-glazed pop, the Las Vegas band sounds like a flashback radio dose of that one group from the '90s you can't quite put your finger on. A spin of Preservation America offers Soundgarden sprawl, STP arena rock, Alice In Chains hesher-grunge and Jane's Addiction groove.

Yet Preservation America is fine enough to make you give the finger to music trends altogether. The album holds a stiff posture born of maturity, painstaking craft and professional pretension, yet, refreshingly, Industry rocks because it takes itself so seriously. And doing so many things right--the guitar bombast of "Innate," the surgical riffs on "Shrine"--more than earns Industry the privilege of an excellent cover of "I Am the Walrus" that's all glorious industrial scourpads and pistoning guitars. Let's hope paying dues in purgatory soon garners Industry a higher reward.--Andrew Kiraly

Luna

Rendezvous

Seven must not be a lucky number for Luna fans. After the band's seventh studio album Rendezvous, Luna intends to call it quits, 12 years into a career of producing languid guitar sounds (read: totally awesome make-out music). Dean Wareham and his crew produce 11 solid, just solid, tracks here. Only "Astronaut" sounds as risky or adventurous as Luna at its best (see 1995's Penthouse), and regrettably this one is carried over from the 2002 EP Close Cover Before Striking. "Cindy Tastes of Barbecue" shows that Mean Dean remains the master of clever phrase-turning, even through the obvious "Brimful of Asha"-y rhythm guitar. The whole album is a slow release, a suspended departure, a farewell, from guitarist Sean Eden's lead vocals on "Broken Chair" and "Still at Home" to the unfulfilled promise of the suggestive title. But like all Luna albums, Rendezvous will age well. And the loving listeners can take fond memories with them, just like the treasured ones of Galaxie 500 the last time Wareham broke our hearts (insert: tearful sighs).--Carey Murphy

Neko Case

The Tigers Have Spoken

Poor, poor Montecore. Did anyone--save the circus-hating fur-hounds at PETA--think of this majestic creature's feelings as it dragged Roy Horn's flopping carcass off the stage at the Mirage last year?

Neko Case probably did. The sometime New Pornographers songbird displays a remarkable sensitivity for feline psychology on "The Tigers Have Spoken," the centerpiece of an 11-track live album recorded during three separate shows in Chicago and Toronto. In sum, the song is about a circus tiger that goes crazy from isolation and has to be shot in an empty field behind its cage. The animal's last thoughts are of the brown-haired lady who "fed him with a bottle as a baby." The song's a heartbreaker for sure--a bit like Old Yeller with an anti-imperialist slant--but hardly indicative of the record's overall tone. Although Case has built her reputation on morose balladry, The Tigers Have Spoken also reveals her lighter side--from the rockabilly swing of "Loretta" to her jaunty cover of Superchunk's "The Train from Kansas City." Rarely are live albums this pleasing--or this pure.--Newt Briggs

Way Out West

Don't Look Now

The Bristol, England, electronic act Way Out West (DJ Nick Warren and producer Jody Wisternoff) has succeeded on its third full-length to make a more song-oriented album, and structurally differentiate those songs from each other. It has also added a female vocalist, Omi, and invited former Echo & the Bunnymen and Massive Attack drummer Damon Reece to give its new compositions more of a band feel. And yet Don't Look Now infrequently engages its listener. Hampering it is how passive-aggressive and familiar it sounds; imagine a cross between trance-lite acts Delirium and Hybrid. The production is unadventurous, and the melodies--while pleasant--can't compete with the act's previous hits. However, progressive and trance DJs ought to find dancefloor movers with the galloping space jam "Killa" and the acid house anthem "Everyday."--Mike Prevatt

Way Out West performs Sat., Nov. 6, at Ice. Tickets: $15; subject to change. Info: 699-5528 or wanttickets.com.