A blogger steals someone else's life story and calls it her own.
The family of a dead judge blames a creeping fungus in the federal courthouse.
I worked at Kmart with John McCain's director of strategy.
Sleater-Kinney
Dig Me Out
(Kill Rock Stars)
--Michael Roberts
Mad Professor
Dub You Crazy With Love
(RAS/Ariwa)
With 131 albums in his oeuvre, England's Mad Professor wouldn't seem to have much virgin territory left to explore. But the reigning master of dub--an instrumental outgrowth of reggae that's known for its studio effects--continues to find new ways to slice, dice and deconstruct. On Dub You Crazy With Love, the Professor combines dub and so-called lovers rock, two mainstays of his Ariwa label that have precious little in common. The genres' disparate natures have prevented most producers from attempting to marry them, but by finding a flow that links them, the Professor (who has worked with everyone from Yellowman to Rancid) is able to make them seem like a match made in heaven. Because lovers rock is primarily distinguished by crooning, the Professor wisely keeps the vocals of singers such as Kofi and Jocelyn Brown intact and up front. At the same time, however, he puts a dub spin on background elements like the delicate harmonies in "Dub My Heart," the sharp rewind that accents "Lovers Rock Dub" and the gently psychedelic synthesizers found on "Pya." In other words, the Professor deploys his entire sonic arsenal, including blasts of echo, reverb and distortion, but he does it with a subtlety that's positively sublime. Dub You Crazy With Love avoids the cold, electronic feel of rote techno, because the Professor understands better than anyone how much studio wizardry is enough.
--Joshua Green
Martin Phillipps & the Chills
Sunburnt
(Flying Nun)
With more water imagery than a Hemingway novella, Sunburnt might more properly be called Drenched. The Chills' signature dreamy melodies surface above rolling piano and guitar riffs in "The Big Assessment" and the cascading "Walk on the Beach," while "Swimming in the Rain" would send Gene Kelly screaming for a life preserver. Through the ringing chimes of the title song, Phillipps equates Old Sol with fame's glory; because there's an ozone hole directly over his native New Zealand, this connation seems especially deadly. With pan flute in hand and tanks of deliquescent verse at his command (e.g., "Now it's barely pouring/And this water tastes of chlorine"), Phillipps dives away from the UV rays while waiting for the skies to open up again.
--Jack Jackson
k.d. lang
drag
(Warner Bros.)