Flak Magazine: Got No Songs on the Radio, Tracks 11-15, 01.31.03

Every other mashup should be judged against this combination of Christina Aguilera's vocals from "Genie In a Bottle" and the instrumental track from the Strokes' "Hard to Explain."

Astounding in its fluidity, neither Aguilera (with her over-eager but affecting vocal style) nor the Strokes (with their underachieving but affecting songwriting style) could have created a tune so sublime. Instead a veteran DJ listened hard, tinkered and found magic, effectively an alchemist of rhythm and melody. While the verses work beautifully, it's the pre-chorus that really slays, as Aguilera's cautious "oohs" swoon over the rapidly strummed guitars of Albert Hammond, Jr., and Nick Valensi.

"A Stroke of Genius" rules via its faux-naïveté. Blind to the annoying self-righteousness of one fan base and aware of the pleasure-seeking tendency of the other (I'll let you guess which is which), Freelance Hellraiser makes the purity of the tune paramount, leaving the rockist ethos, and all its contradictions, gasping for air. (— Yancey Strickler)

The New York-based Tokeleys bill themselves as scholars in archaeology, mummification and guitar shredding. Their goal is to fuse the history and traditions of mummy-appreciation and rock music, and so they play loud, hard songs about mummies. The band rightly realizes the patent absurdity of rock music, but that counts for nothing if their songs don't, in the words of Jack Black, "rock your fuckin' socks off."

The Tokeleys, not yet signed to a major label, recall the glory days of the SST label, in particular D. Boon and his revolutionary Minutemen. "Plastination," in particular, sounds at home alongside the 44 tracks of Double Nickels on the Dime. John Hogan sings with a sneer, and the band arranges a shotgun wedding of jazz and punk-rock that is at once raw and accomplished. (Listen for the change of pace in the middle of the song, when the Tokeleys launch a twin guitar assault that Tom Verlaine would heartily applaud.)

To listen to this track is to be standing right smack in the middle of a Williamsburg joint at a Tokeleys set while Hogan barks, "The process of plastination/ Is perfect for the preservation/ Of the everlasting Diva/ Hey, man, you should have seen her." It's immediate, hilarious, and socks-off rocking. You'll be hearing a lot from this group in 2003, and not just because there's a dearth of mummy-loving music acts out there. (— Christopher Hickman)

13. "House of Jealous Lovers" | The Rapture | "House of Jealous Lovers" 12" | DFA | 4:56

While it didn't show up in any Billboard charts, the story of 2002's rock and dance undergrounds was the resurgence of post-punk. Liars, Interpol and a flurry of reissues got the ink, but it was the Rapture's 12" single that was most worthy of mention.

"House of Jealous Lovers" perfectly approximates Gang of Four's abrasive combination of disco beats and loud guitars, but, unlike the Rapture's last release, the Out of the Races and Onto the Tracks EP, "Lovers" stresses the later incarnation of GoF, the one that decided that sloganeering sounded best on the dance floor.

The Rapture's new collaborators, the dance-friendly DFA production team, apparently agree, as the coarse crunch of the older material has been downplayed in favor of better beats (now augmented by cowbell!) and a tone more playful than dire. (— Yancey Strickler)

There is the drive along that typical stretch of highway — empty at this hour, a could-be-a-farm building acres off the shoulder, the lane divider scrolling like hyphens beneath the tires, a city shrinking to a simple cluster of high rises in the rearview mirror. And then there is the song stirring through the speakers, just enough to keep you from turning back.

I don't know what in this world is trying to save me
but I can feel its hand and it's guiding me in sign
from lives I've tried to lead
to the one that I received
each painted sign along the road
will melt away in source tags & in code

Backing plaintive vocals decrying modern life in a cross between Robert Frost and Philip K. Dick, the steady strutting of rhythmic guitars powers the post-apocalyptic "Source Tags & Codes." The guitars serve to drive each song before this final cut on the album of the same name (louder, faster and more abrasive, actually), but never sound so fitfully melodic as they do here. Such sustained melody mixed with melancholy lyrics makes for the sympathetic sway with which this track rocks. With the dramatic coda of swelling strings, the entire song is hardly hopeful, but it's steady company for an urban exodus. (— Lavina Lee)

"Sold!" is not the best song on High Society, Enon's one-band mixtape of riffy jangle, ranting spazz rock and white-line disco. That honor goes to the perfect guitar pop of "Window Display." Both songs express a coded yet readily apparent distrust of the shiny exteriors that conceal the market's shills. Which is great; fight the good fight, bruthas and sistas!

What makes "Sold!" especially worth talking about is the Moment. Music obsessives seek out songs with that one moment when everything comes together just right and forces a smile of wonder. Or maybe everything comes together wrongly but in exactly the oddball way to stick to your brain. We're lucky to find these moments, and we take them where we can get them.

The Moment in "Sold!" comes around 0:36, when the drums and keys kick in. (As with many such moments) it's hard to triangulate what exactly is so right/wrong about the Moment, but there's something off enough about the drum break as it settles into the good-times beat that propels the verse, something suitably glitchy about the sleek, burbling keyboard part and something redemptive about the glorious futility as the frontman invites, "Let's put some change into a broken meter." Yeah, let's! We're along for the ride. (— Wayne Lewis)

Introduction
Tracks 1-5 | Tracks 6-10
Tracks 11-15 | Tracks 16-21
Personal annotated mixes:
Lavina Lee | Wayne Lewis
Yancey Strickler | Eric Wittmershaus