Listening Station: The Music, Hope of the States, Matthew Sweet, Me First and the Gimme Gimmes, Shoplifting

The Music

Welcome to the North

Eight weeks left in 2004 and we finally have a reason besides Franz Ferdinand to use the repeat button: the Music, the British quartet perhaps most known locally as the opening act that upstaged the Vines on their 2003 debut Las Vegas performance. Back then, the Music was exhaustively promoting its self-titled debut album, which had little chance of blowing up in America simply because it wielded only one real potential hit--a Led Zeppelin-flavored rave-up called "The People"--that its label, Capitol, foolishly did not shop to radio. While the band masterfully blended grooves and licks throughout the record, it was tunefully limited, its hype essentially built on four-on-the-floor swagger.

That is not the case with Welcome to the North, an aggressively engaging, frequently urgent album where, this time around, choruses are distinguishable from the verses and each song stands out from the rest. Thanks to a new focus on songwriting, an empowered lyricism informed by the state of the world and how it affects its individuals, and the talents of American producer Brendan O'Brien (Pearl Jam, Bruce Springsteen, Soundgarden), the Music sounds like a whole new band.

On Welcome, strains of Zeppelin boogie and the late-'80s Manchester psychedelic rock scene (current chart climber "Breakin'" bears the infectious hook from the Stone Roses' "Waterfall") still surface. But there's a more ardent feel to the songs here, largely informed by the expansive post-punk sweep of U2, Doves and the Manic Street Preachers (see the tribal anthemry of "Bleed from Within"). Given the wide swath of influence on the album, the Music has a more developed sound, discernible with lead singer Robert Harvey's upper-register wail and drummer Phil Jordan's multi-tempo drive.

No longer are Harvey's words abstract proclamations and emotions, though his musings remain universal. On "Bleed from Within," he sings, "I said I'd like to know what I'm fighting for/I have no reason to die," and you know instantly what he's referring to, both topically and thematically. He overreaches at times, but it's hard to get stuck on such moments when caught up with the fervor of the song--though some of the band's strongest moments are when the bluster is swapped for clarity, as on the pop-smart "Into the Night" and "Fight the Feeling." No matter what the Music's sonic approach, its priority here is the song itself, and the result is one of the year's most listenable rock albums.--Mike Prevatt

Matthew Sweet

Kimi Ga Suki

Most literal-monikered rocker ever. Seriously--it's like the guy who did "Rebel Yell" calling himself Billy Sneer. Here, Sweet hugs tighter than ever to the cleanest melodies and unthreatening guitar pop. He's gotten out of bed in pajamas, yawned adorably, gone to his lyrical closet and opened it to a big, bubbly tumble of hearts, souls, love, waiting, you, me, needs and friends. The original Girlfriend lineup is back with Kimi Ga Suki, the U.S. release of an album Sweet recorded last year and offered as a "love letter" only to Japan, "in gratitude for the many years of love and support" the country has given him. Very Sweet. And this time it really is all about the screaming schoolgirls, right down to the irresistibly supercute cover art on which he actually had himself depicted as a hiding kitten (it's in the liner notes). It is what it is, solid in its own careful way, including the last two tracks ("Tonight We Ride" and "Through Your Eyes"), where Sweet reminds us that he really can write songs with muscles, too.--Dave Surratt

Hope of the States

The Lost Riots

For a second there, British act Hope of the States looked to bridge the post-rock gap between sweeping, transcendent acts like Sigur Ros and Mogwai, and the more direct, anthem-driven acts like the Manic Street Preachers and the Verve. But after you wade through the grand, layered songs on its debut, The Lost Riots, the Hope of the States experience feels akin to a contemplative conversation full of impersonal and unconnected ideas. There's a lot of promise here, but the musicians seem caught up in their own sonic and thematic bluster, more interested in atmosphere than any sort of emotional payoff. What the band gets right--gorgeous compositions (helmed by Sigur Rus producer Ken Thomas), dynamic flourishes, interpretive lyrics--seems offset by its missteps, including its meandering musical narratives, sloppy and often derivative melodies and one flat vocalist in Sam Herlihy. For all its grandeur, The Lost Riots is largely bereft of potency.--Mike Prevatt

Me First and the Gimme Gimmes

Ruin Jonny's Bar Mitzvah

What's more fun that a barrel o' monkeys? Obviously, two barrels o' monkeys. But a close second to such an overwhelmingly large number of monkeys is Ruin Jonny's Bar Mitzvah, the latest--and live--release from the clown princes of cover bands, Me First and the Gimme Gimmes. Poor little Jonny: His traditional and very meaningful passage into adulthood gets dumped on by buffoons, fun-loving though they may be. From Styx to REO Speedwagon, from the Beatles to Zep to Billy Joel (I don't know either), this album has all the good (updated and still good) and terrible (see Billy Joel) songs one could never encounter on a single album. "Auld Lang Syne" and two versions of "Hava Nagila" show the members of this supergroup want to uphold tradition, skewed as it may be. How can this coup be topped? Little Abraham's circumcision? Let's not even imagine. But maybe...--Carey Murphy

Shoplifting

Shoplifting EP

Three members of the old Seattle-based Chromatics plus another guy became the new Seattle-based Shoplifting, whose punky new four-song EP delivers a menacing sound mostly reminiscent of the old Seattle-based Chromatics. And old Pylon. And old Sonic Youth--definitely some old Sonic Youth in there. You know, low-fi drums, eerie feedback and atonal boy/girl voicework from kids in belligerent moods. Anyway, after a couple of listens, the CD still sounds more--oh, and Pixies, a little bit of old Pixies--still sounds more derivative than anything else. Some latent energy emerges by track three; "Ask Me" benefits from a spaciousness that approaches genuine atmosphere, track four ("Contrapuntal Prancing") even extends the arc a bit, and then...it's over. That's all we get. So it goes with an EP, but these 16 minutes at least give Shoplifting some definition--not so much as an innovative punk force, but as dutiful caretakers of an '80s-era estate who show up once a month to growl, shred the hedges, break a few more windows and give the anarchy tags another coat.--Dave Surratt