When King Tuff (né Kyle Thomas) released The Other back in 2018, the self-produced, somewhat laconic album seemed like an understandable reaction to the intensity of the previous decade of his career. He had quickly rocketed from scruffy, micro-label garage-rocker to a radio-friendly unit-shifter, as his first two Sub Pop albums established him as a cornerstone of the 2010s' indie landscape with the attendant touring and promotional duties.  Indulging in some low-key psychedelic woo-woo for a minute was a well-deserved break. Still, one might expect, after a few years of (voluntary and lockdown-required) recuperation, that Thomas would greet 2023 with a forceful and electric return to form. He did not. If The Other was the sound of exhaustion, Smalltown Stardust is the sound of gentle joyfulness. With strong Harry Nilsson vibes throughout and produced in collaboration with his housemates Sasami and Meg Duffy (Hand Habits), it wanders around exploring midtempo, hippy-dippy vibe-iness for its duration. (Among the 11 cuts is a sub-one-minute meditation piece called "A Meditation.") Thomas has fully evolved into the rock 'n' roll hippie he was always destined to be; as an L.A. transplant from Vermont, his fate was sealed.  While there are a few moments that can tangentially connect to his earlier garage-pop, Smalltown Stardust does start out with a song called "Love Letters To Plants" and explores granola topics like "The Wheel," and "Pebbles In A Stream" in a way that's so sincere and on the nose that one wonders if he wasn't solely listening to private-label '70s Christian rock during lockdown. Things get a little electric here and there, most notably on "Portrait of God," but even then, the peaceful spirituality of the number ultimately keeps it from any sort of reckless abandon. "Rock River'' similarly feels like it wants to be an explosive rocker, but despite the jaunty guitar and hand-clap-ready rhythms, the "let's walk along the river and look at the stars" lyrics are so pure and daffy that it's hard to think about cutting loose. Cuts like "Pebbles In A Stream" are just straight-up, Bread-style acoustic soft rock. While the sweetness of some of the material here is a little cloying, and the absolute lack of ironic detachment is a little disorienting, the gleeful sincerity that courses throughout the record is infectious in its own way. This is an album that's ultimately a beacon of positivity in a world that could absolutely use a supercharged dose of good vibes. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz

The timing of Iggy Pop's album Preliminaires is probably a product of coincidence and fate rather than careful planning, but it's hard to ignore the fact that just a few months after the unexpected death of Ron Asheton put the Stooges into limbo (at least for a while), Iggy has released an album that almost entirely avoids the issue of rock & roll. In a publicity piece for Preliminaires, Iggy wrote "I just got sick of listening to idiot thugs with guitars," and the man whose music helped inspire so many of those thugs keeps a wary distance from electric guitars on most on this album. Advance reports suggested that Preliminaires would be a jazz album, but that's not accurate, even though one of the best songs on the set, "King of the Dogs," features Iggy borrowing a melody from Louis Armstrong while backed by a traditional New Orleans jazz band. Instead, most of the music on Preliminaires recalls European pop -- music influenced by music influenced by jazz -- and the lion's share of the arrangements resemble some fusion of Serge Gainsbourg and late-period Leonard Cohen, fitted with a distinctly American accent on songs like "Spanish Coast," "I Want to Go to the Beach," and a cover of "How Insensitive." For those put off by such things, "Nice to Be Dead" is dominated by distorted electric guitars and "She's a Business" (like the nearly identical "Je Sais Que Tu Sais") booms with martial drumming, (both recall Iggy's moody solo debut The Idiot), while "He's Dead/ She's Alive" is backed by Pop's powerful acoustic blues guitar. Like 1999's Avenue B, Preliminaires is an introspective set, with Iggy crooning in a low murmur as he contemplates the failings of the world around him; he cites Michel Houellebecq's novel The Possibility of an Island as an influence (Houellebecq's words provided the lyrics for one stand-out track, "A Machine for Loving"), and the album is bookended by tunes which Iggy sings in French. Where Avenue B was a pretentious mess, Preliminaires is flawed but significantly more successful; though "Party Time" is mildly embarrassing in its depiction of decadence among the idle rich, the other songs are intelligent and often compelling meditations on a world where love and compassion are in short supply, and if "King of the Dogs" isn't exactly a new sentiment coming from Iggy, it's cock-of-the-walk air fits him like a glove (as does the trad jazz arrangement). Iggy's a better shouter than a crooner, but time has burnished his instrument with the character to fit these lyrics, and the best moments on this disc are truly inspired. Iggy Pop would be ill advised to give up on rock & roll, but Preliminaires shows he can do other things and do them well, and it speaks of a welcome maturity missing from many of his efforts outside the realm of fast and loud.© Mark Deming /TiVo

Only a little more than a year after releasing two EPs -- a self-titled one, and Of Light -- Seattle's Shabazz Palaces signed to Sub Pop for their full-length debut. Even on a high-profile label, former Digable Planets member Ishmael Butler (formerly Butterfly) maintains a shroud of mystique, rapping under the facade of Palaceer Lazaro and purposely avoiding publicity, interviews, and liner credits. Considering his long-term time in the game, his wordplay is still surprisingly relevant, and, masked as Lazaro, he reinvents himself by adding an air of sophistication to the persona of a streetwise gangster. Jazz references are no longer the norm and Butler steers away from the blaxploitation slang and rhymes about being an insect or a creamy spy, but he still has a distinctive, surreal style of flowing. Compared to former albums by Digable Planets, Cherrywine, Camp Lo (Butler guested on some of their tracks), or even on the prior Shabazz Palaces EPs (which were pretty dark to begin with), Black Up is a much harder-edged album. There are no obvious singles, and the beats are murky, splintered, and synthesized, reminiscent of the space-age rap of acts like Deltron 3030, Kool Keith, and Dälek. In a year when minimal production is on the upswing -- a trend highlighted by the enormous buzz surrounding Odd Future and Tyler, the Creator's bare-boned productions -- Shabazz Palaces seems perfectly in tune with a modern underground movement that embraces the most ominous and difficult aspects of hip-hop. As the mainstream becomes more and more predictable, Shabazz Palaces’ inscrutability is a welcome change. Because the beats are so abstract, roots take precedent, and a strong presence on the microphone becomes the most important aspect. Butler fills this role with ease. His smooth, sparkling rhymes glue Knife Knights' watery environment together to create a provocative listen from start to finish.© Jason Lymangrover /TiVo

After seven years away from the recording studio, Wolf Parade have picked up where they left off, sounding confident and full-bodied on their fourth studio effort, 2017's Cry Cry Cry. As before, Wolf Parade approach indie rock with the sense of drama of a prog rock band, reinforced by the operatic quaver of Spencer Krug's vocal work and the grand ambitions of the keyboards by Krug and Dante DeCaro. Despite their hiatus, Wolf Parade sound fresh and invigorated on these 11 songs, with the healthy snap of Arlen Thompson's drumming keeping the proceedings lively even when the group slinks into a languid mood on "Flies on the Sun" or aims for a moody effect on "Lazarus Online." (DeCaro's bass work is more subtle in the mix, but no less strong in execution.) While the group references a few of the major events that took place since Wolf Parade last made an album -- the death of David Bowie on "Valley Boy" and the passing of Leonard Cohen just as Donald Trump was rising to power in "You're Dreaming" -- most of the time the group seems to be looking inward, albeit with an intelligence and sense of purpose that prevents the material from seeming solipsistic. Dan Boeckner's guitar is often dwarfed in the mix by the keyboards, but he adds a crunchy texture that lends an added weight and heft to these songs. And the production by John Goodmanson is an ideal match for the material, giving these performances the right amount of gravity without making this music sound swollen or pompous. Feeling strong and fit after their layoff, Wolf Parade don't sound like a band convinced they have something to prove on Cry Cry Cry -- it quickly announces that they're as capable and creative as ever, and the finished product is as strong as anything they've released to date.© Mark Deming /TiVo

DUB FROM THE GHETTO compiles 20 tracks from the beginning of Scientist’s career and includes a wealth of tracks from his seminal 1981 effort, SCIENTIST MEETS THE ROOTS RADICS. After serving an apprenticeship with the innovative producer King Tubby, Scientist struck out on his own in the early ‘80s, releasing a spate of remarkable albums that demonstrated his intuitive understanding of Tubby’s art while simultaneously redefining the parameters of dub production. This collection includes some of Scientist’s finest work, including mesmerizing versions of tracks like Horace Andy’s “Something On My Mind” and Johnny Clarke’s “Blood Dunza.”© TiVo

Arriving in 2018, The Last King of Pop collects 21 songs from the first three decades of Paul Heaton's recording career, including his time with the beloved U.K. alternative pop bands the Housemartins and the Beautiful South, and through his third album with Jacqui Abbott (2017's Crooked Calypso). To sweeten the pot, it also includes two newly recorded tracks. Known for his playful, very often sardonic lyrics, the songwriter seems to poke fun at himself here, opening a record with such a self-aggrandizing title with a song that features someone else on lead, the Jacqui Abbott vehicle "I Gotta Praise." Taking the form of a career-long playlist set on shuffle, from there the collection alternates between decades and projects, with no one incarnation of Heaton appearing back-to-back until the final two exclusive tracks. Necessarily omitting fan favorites with dozens of charting singles under his belt and limited slots here, the Housemartins selections include the hit "Happy Hour" but not their U.K. number one "Caravan of Love." In the case of the Beautiful South, it does include Top Three hits like the group's 1989 debut single "Song for Whoever" and 1998's "Perfect 10," though their sole number one, "A Little Time," while present, takes the form of a re-recorded version with Abbott replacing Briana Corrigan. The song is also transformed from a country-inflected conversation to a rollicking '50s rock ditty. The Heaton-Abbott duets from the 2010s are well-represented, making up more than a third of the track list. Not technically a greatest hits, or even very representative of his career, The Last King of Pop includes only one song from Heaton's three solo albums ("Poems" is taken from 2001's Fat Chance, which was recorded under the alias Biscuit Boy). However, what becomes clear and even emphasized by its jaunty final track, the original song "7" Singles," is that it was curated with an emphasis on "pop." As a set of uptempo Heaton songs that leaves the more poignant and sparer tunes behind, this one's a pleaser, with no harm done setting it on shuffle.© Marcy Donelson /TiVo

In the lead-up to Kyle Thomas' fourth King Tuff LP, the songwriter/multi-instrumentalist found himself at home in L.A., run down from years of touring, and feeling more and more distanced from the good-time rock & roller persona he'd created. Thomas decided to reset in a few ways: He made an effort to write songs that he could play solo with just a guitar, he self-produced the tracks for the first time since his debut, and he recorded the songs in a newly assembled home studio. He also played many of the instruments himself, with the exception of drums (Ty Segall, Charles Moothart) and saxophones (Mikal Cronin). The only other guests on the album were his all-star backing vocalists Jenny Lewis, Kevin Morby, Greta Morgan, and Segall. Calling it The Other, his first album since 2014's Billboard 200-charting Black Moon Spell is still radiantly psychedelic and off the beaten path, but it's also conspicuously his most introspective to date. He sets the stage with the title track, a six-minute prologue he said is about "hitting rock bottom" and rediscovering inspiration. It opens with what sounds like a small, hand-rung bell, followed by solemn organ and acoustic guitar that act as an ostinato under Thomas' half-spoken narrative. The album then mushrooms, so to speak, into a lava lamp-inflected, saxophone-bolstered groove on "Raindrop Blue," a colorful love song with lyrics like "You dazzled me with destiny and magnetized my mouth." Expansive arrangements built on funky basslines, vintage keyboards, and vibrant textures pervade the rest of The Other, which continues in kind. It's a more thoughtful, philosophical King Tuff, for certain, but The Other is far from a downer, with Thomas' individuality and catchy pop sensibilities still intact.© Marcy Donelson /TiVo

Is Paul Collins truly the King of Power Pop? That's the kind of statement guaranteed to open a can of worms among record collector types, but Collins certainly has a more honest claim to the title than most folks, given the great records he made in the 1970s and '80s with the Nerves, the Breakaways, and the Beat (aka the Paul Collins Beat). Collins has cut a handful of fine records since the breakup of the Beat, but King of Power Pop! is the first one in ages that captures the tough, upbeat sound of his most memorable work, and it proves the man hasn't lost his touch for writing tight, hooky tunes with killer hooks and energetic guitar figures. Collins' voice is a little rougher than it was in his salad days, but he makes that work to his favor, giving the songs a touch of defiant swagger even when he's sounding sweet and heartbroken, and when he and his lead guitarist Eric Blakely lock in, this sounds like the perfect follow-up to the Beat's classic albums for Columbia, bursting with tuneful vigor and rock & roll passion (and arriving a mere quarter-century after the fact). Collins recorded King of Power Pop! in Detroit with producer and engineer Jim Diamond (who also plays bass), and the album features a crew of Motor City notables who give these songs the fire and muscle they need, including Dave Shettler on drums, Wally Palmar (of the Romantics) on harmonica and harmonies, and Nikki Corvette on backing vocals. But the album wouldn't work if Collins didn't have a batch of great songs on hand, and "C'Mon Let's Go," "Doin' It for the Ladies," and "Don't Blame Your Troubles on Me" are instant power pop classics that all but explode from the speakers, while "Many Roads to Follow" (written in collaboration with his old bandmate Peter Case) shows he hasn't lost touch with his contemplative side, and "This Is America" builds to a gloriously frantic coda that rocks like nobody's business. (And the covers of "The Letter" and "You Tore Me Down" demonstrate Collins knows how to bring his own personality into someone else's great song.) Paul Collins might not be the King of Power Pop, but if there was an elected President of Power Pop, an album this good would certainly sweep him into office; it's fun, raucous, thoroughly enjoyable rock & roll from one of pop's greatest unsung heroes.© Mark Deming /TiVo

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