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By Rudy Klapper, August 24, 2010 8:00 am

Katy Perry – Teenage Dream

Capitol 2010

Rating: 4/10

Dear Katy,

I thought you were different. I used to think your sprightly personality, subtle sarcasm and jabs at more established musicians, and defined sense of style suggested a deeper dimension than your average pre-fab pop star. Despite admittedly simple, straightforward pop like “I Kissed A Girl” and “Waking Up In Vegas” along with lyrics and photos meant to stir up controversy and firmly place you into the bracket of commercial whore, I always thought there was more to you than your run-of-the-mill Ke$ha or Pussycat Dolls. You even sort of look like my future wife Zooey, and that’s always a plus.

I really wanted to like “California Gurls” when I first heard it, although there hasn’t been a more mechanical formula to Billboard success all year – faux anthemic qualities, high-priced “cool” guest spot, vapid lyrics and a brainless melody aimed straight at adolescents desperate for the sing-a-long of the summer. I dared to think Teenage Dream could be one of the better pop albums of the year. And for the first four minutes the title track actually led me on for a bit, a lovely slice of synth pop made even better by Kaskade’s remix tacked on at the end of the album. Then what did you do, Katy? You throw out a song like “Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.),” a song so repulsively crass and soulless that it makes “Dirrty”-era Aguilera look like Mandy Moore. I used to think I partied pretty hard, but you’ve truly upped the ante on me. Maxing out your credit cards, streaking in the park Frank-the-Tank style, and threesomes (nothing screams rebellion like an Eiffel tower)?  I know you’re all for giving the finger to middle American sensibilities and expressing yourself, but when the song itself is about as musically progressive as “Hot Cross Buns,” the focus is squarely on those wretched lyrics. Tell Dr. Luke and Max Martin that that faux-saxophone solo might be the low point of their careers.

I can forgive a couple of transgressions if Teenage Dream redeemed itself with songs that were more than trashy, one-dimensional pop, but, alas, the rest of the album is just as predictable as the VMAs and only marginally more entertaining. I would bet money on “Firework,” with its inoffensive electro beat and massive chorus, on being the next single. I would also place money on “Peacock” never seeing the light of day, primarily because it’s a terrible song with a double entendre so blunt it would make Ke$ha blush but also because it doesn’t exactly flatter Ms. Perry the lyricist (I’m almost 100% certain “cock” cannot rhyme with “biotch” or “payoff,” ever). I get that “E.T.” is supposed to be “space-themed,” what with its cheesy synths and cool sound effects, but lyrically it seems more Alien Sex Files 3 than Solaris. I do like your attempt to be more of a serious artist with songs that just reek of edginess and dark, heavy emotion, songs like “Who Am I Living For?” and “Pearl,” but these are songs that nevertheless would work better in the hands of a more versatile vocalist. Plus, front-loading your record with terrible tracks makes it even harder to get to the (relatively) enjoyable tunes that close out Teenage Dream.

So, sure, I guess you could say I’m a little disappointed in you. You could have been the next Gaga, albeit less talented, less hideous, and certainly less crazy, if only you could direct that don’t-give-a-damn personality and charismatic vibe to songs that didn’t rely on hormone-baiting lyrics and sing-a-longs that collapse on their own frothiness. Maybe don’t rely on producers like Dr. Luke, who shouldn’t have been allowed around any reputable studio after his work on Animal. The potential is all there, and the American public is in the palm of your hand, bought and paid for with your limelight-stealing presence and a Snoop Dogg guest spot. You can do anything you want, so why do you spend four minutes demanding to see my tool? I hope Teenage Dream is just a minor speed bump in your career, because there’s nothing sadder than wasted talent. Get it together.

Katy Perry – “Firework”

See larger image Teenage Dream (Audio CD) List Price: $18.98 USD New From: $10.90 In Stock Used from: $10.00 In Stock Release date August 24, 2010.

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By Rudy Klapper, March 17, 2010 12:00 pm

She & Him – Volume Two

Merge Records 2010

Rating: 7/10

Volume Two is about as appropriate a title as one could hope for from Zooey Deschanel and M. Ward’s second collaborative effort. It’s simple, it’s straightforward, and it’s without a doubt true: where 2008’s Volume One was the first example of She & Him’s sun-kissed brand of ‘60s girl-group pop and singer-songwriter folk pastiche, Volume Two is, uh, the second. Volume One consisted of thirteen tracks, three of those covers; Volume Two consists of thirteen songs as well, but ups the ante with only two covers. M. Ward makes only the occasional vocal contribution, preparing to work the production behind the scenes and let his vintage guitar do the talking, as he did on Volume One. Hell, even the album art is eerily similar, with that same slightly creepy faceless girl and a different color scheme. And Zooey is, well, still Zooey, never falling prey to the conceit of oversinging and using that lovely, country-inflected alto to melt Ben Gibbard’s heart. In short, it’s the same She & Him those who enjoyed Volume One fell in love with, and it’s the same She & Him that bored many to tears.

Is this a bad thing? Every listener will have a different opinion, but what it really comes down to is how you like your pop music, and whether you were really expecting any stretches in musical boundaries for Ward and Deschanel. To begin with, She & Him were never a revolutionary idea, merely two friends recalling the sounds of their youth and recreating them with the kind of steady hand and fine point that love and care brings along. They accomplished that effortlessly on their debut, and the results are more or less the same here. “In The Sun” is the same kind of guaranteed hit single (if one lived in the ‘60s) that “Why Do You Let Me Stay Here?” was, although it lacks the blistering guitar solo that made the latter so much fun. Songs like “Don’t Look Back,” the gentle “Lingering Still,” and the swelling, bubbly tones of opener “Thieves” all call to mind the kind of Brill Building via Nashville blend that She & Him performed with so much flair on Volume One, and really nothing more. The fact at the heart of everything on Volume Two is that everything here could just as easily have been on Volume One.

But what made Volume One such a great record was its time capsule-esque quality, how it captured the sound of a bygone era and made it in the here and now without a hitch, and Volume Two, for all its (some would say necessary) similarity to its predecessor, repeats that feat remarkably well. While listening to the repetitive titular refrain of “Over It Over Again” near the end of the record, I was frustrated, disappointed with the seeming sameness of the record. It’s a classic case of overlooking the forest for the trees. Volume Two is a beautifully crafted record, as more listens prove – so long as you accept that this is what She & Him are and have been, and that this is what She & Him will likely always be. NRBQ cover “Ridin’ In My Car” is a delightful beach cruiser of a song, with a rare Ward appearance the icing on the cake. “Me and You” takes the duo’s understated country appreciation to a serene, gorgeous place, all wobbly pedal steel and Deschanel’s woodsy, ‘70s folk singer vibe. And “Home” might be She & Him’s best song yet, a graceful swoon of a song floating in breezy strings and airy drums, the kind of cool, carefree California rock ‘n roll that Deschanel epitomizes.

There won’t be that same flashbulb that went on after hearing Volume One, that shock that this was a modern working actress and her pal and not some long-lost Beach Boy groupies. For better and for worse, She & Him can’t go back to the beginning, but they can do a fine job of recreating it. This is lighthearted, carefree pop music, but it’s also surprisingly enchanting and, well, so damn catchy. There’s nothing clumsy about this, no famous actress hooking up with a talented songwriter to write meaningless songs (see: Johansson, Scarlett) – just a guy and a girl inviting you to share in their mutual loves a second time. And for all its delicate curves, for all the “ooh-ahs” and multilayered harmonies, for all the guitars on strings and bouncy piano and crisp drums, that’s just exactly what it is: a love for good, old-fashioned pop music, pure and simple.

She & Him – “In The Sun”

See larger image She & Him - Volume Two (Audio CD) List Price: $15.98 USD New From: $9.97 In Stock Used from: $6.80 In Stock Release date March 23, 2010.

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By Rudy Klapper, February 16, 2010 12:00 pm

The Watson Twins – Talking To You, Talking To Me

Vanguard 2010

Rating: 5/10

Identical sisters Chandra and Leigh Watson have always been more noteworthy for the things they’ve done behind the spotlight rather in front of it. Members of the Silver Lake, CA scene that has spawned such acts as Rilo Kiley, Sea Wolf, and Eels, the Watson Twins’ biggest impact in the music world was as the backing vocalists to Jenny Lewis’ superb solo record, Rabbit Fur Coat. Their solo work, particularly 2008’s Fire Songs, has been marked mainly by a disturbing lack of any definable identity. Enlisting fellow Silver Lake artists Russell Pollard and J. Soda of Everest to help produce their latest might not have been the most refreshing idea in retrospect, as Talking to You, Talking To Me is essentially what the Twins have been doing for over a decade, but for some at first indiscernible reasons it’s a much more fully-realized, capable record than its predecessors.

The most readily apparent cause is the Twins’ themselves; whereas earlier efforts found each sister sharing the mic on each song, Talking To You, Talking To Me mainly focuses one song on one sister at a time, with the other primarily handling backup duties for the duration of the track. It’s a smart move that pays off by not confusing the listener and by allowing each tune to have its own focus, a linear narrative thread not broken up by call-and-response verses. More importantly, however, and something that becomes increasingly obvious as the record continues, is the improved instrumentation and backing music. Too often before in the Twins’ discography the vocals were an album’s highlights, adorned with only the barest piano and guitar or the occasional woodwind. Chandra and Leigh have smoky, sensual voices to be sure, voices that can more than easily hold and direct a song, but they have always worked best in a supportive framework, like on the multiple textures of Rabbit Fur Coat. The lesson has evidently been learned; the best part about the record is its sonic depth, from the soft, breezy torch ballad “Snow Canyons” to the rippling guitar and organ solos on “Midnight” to the faux trip-hop of the bubbling, syncopated “Harpeth River.”

Unfortunately, there’s only so many ways one can make a mid-tempo indie folk tune or ‘60s girl-group ballad sound, and Chandra and Leigh’s insistence on maintaining practically the same tone and mood whether they’re lamenting a lost lover or proclaiming their undying affection is the album’s biggest downfall. To be brutally honest, they have always lacked the charisma (not to mention a particularly arresting voice) of a Jenny Lewis or a Zooey Deschanel, and Pollard and Soda are certainly not the muse that M. Ward or Blake Sennett have been. For all the surprises that a track like “Harpeth River” brings or for all the many ear-pleasing harmonies and foot-stomping melodies that vintage anthems like “Devil In You” and “Savin’ You” deliver, there’s boring, by-the-numbers alt-country like “Calling Out” or “Give Me A Chance.” One can only listen to so many slow, jazz-inflected rhythms and passionless lyrics before getting frustrated with the overall sameness of too many of the performances here.

Then again, the Watson Twins will never have the vocal firepower of a Jenny Lewis or a Beth Hart, but they use what they were born with to often haunting, always charming effect, even when things may drag. Talking To You, Talking To Me is an entirely predictable indie folk record, one that has just as many flaws as it has ethereally precious moments, but it does show a progression for the Twins and an improving knowledge on how to translate their talents onto a whole LP. Now if they could only get back with my girl Jenny . . . after all, who wants twins when you can have a threesome?

The Watson Twins – “Harpeth River”

See larger image Talking to You, Talking to Me (Audio CD) List Price: $17.98 USD New From: $2.40 In Stock Used from: $1.45 In Stock Release date February 9, 2010.