Lana Del Rey "Without You"

The funny thing about Lana Del Rey's Born to Die is that after a while, it begins to sound like 15 rough drafts for a statement song in which she lays out all of her themes and tells you who she is. It's rare to come across an artist so eager to explain herself, but given the way the world has responded to her thus far, there probably isn't an artist alive who actually requires this much self-defense. But it gets very boring, and there are diminishing returns: I think that she is successful in setting up ideas and themes with genuine emotional resonance in "Born to Die," "Video Games" and "Without You," but for the most part, it's a plodding, overlong and repetitive record that, on a lyrical level, tells rather than shows. "Without You" sketches out the Lana Del Rey persona as well as the public's reaction to it. The lyrics sound like a parody of sad glamour: "Everything I want I have / Money, notoriety, rivieras / I even think I found God In the flash bulbs of your pretty camera / Pretty cameras, pretty cameras / Am I glamourous? / Tell me, am I glamourous?" She complicates this by bringing a messy love affair into the equation, which is sort of conflated with the public's desire to destroy its pretty celebrities. This is well-mined lyrical territory – Lady Gaga's first two albums were mostly about this, but were way more fun and humorous – but beyond Del Rey's own designs on attaining fame, there's something to this fantasy that resonates with normal folks. "Lana Del Rey" is a familiar archetype, but this tension of striving to please others and construct a pleasing identity for others - to "have it all" – is familiar to many people, most especially women. And our culture loves to tear down women, whether they are famous or not. Part of what makes Born to Die interesting – or problematic – is that the singer so fully inhabits the vapidity and passivity of the character that it's hard to tell if the artist is also vapid and passive. I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt and assume that this is indeed a character, and that she is attempting to write a critique of a certain lifestyle and point of view. It seems obvious to me that this is the case, even if there is quite a lot that Lizzie Grant and "Lana Del Rey" have in common, especially as she grows more famous and spends all her time living out that role. I do think a lot of the intensely negative response to LDR is the result of her often simplistic and sloppy way of creating this character – it's so easy to pick apart, so easy to assume the worst of it. As campy as this music can be, she doesn't give the listeners many "yes, I am definitely being ironic" cues, so it's easy to take it at face value and hear it as a deeply un-feminist record. More than that, I think the thing that really rubs people the wrong way is in how the songs, the videos, the project overall, convey a terrible desperation. This is where it is most difficult to tell the difference between Lizzie Grant and Lana Del Rey: Just as much as these songs are about people who are truly desperate for affection, attention and validation, the singer herself comes across as someone very awkwardly attempting to ingratiate herself with her audience. The best moments on Born to Die are squirm-inducing because of this - her faux-naif inflection on "I heard you like the bad girls / honey, is that true?" is the record's clear high water mark – but not everyone wants to squirm to their pop music. This is an uncomfortable record, but also one that is not entirely successful. It's hard to know exactly how to judge it, but I think I'm more favorable toward its best songs because I'm willing to feel a bit of empathy for both the singer and the character. I don't think this was an easy record to make, and I'm glad to see someone go this far out on a limb, even if it's sorta cravenly commercial in some ways. There are just far too many records that get applauded for taking zero risks, you know? Buy it from Amazon.

Perfume Genius "Hood"

"Hood" is an expression of a deep, consuming fear that one's partner will leave them if they ever truly knew them. It's a bit painful to hear because Mike Hadreas' lyrics and performance are so raw and direct, but it's beautiful mainly because you can hear him resisting this anxiety, and struggling to have faith in the notion of unconditional love. Or, maybe, trying to come to terms with the possibility that his lover might not think there is anything wrong with him at all. Pre-order it from Amazon.

Wire "Clay" (Black Session Version)

The original studio recording of "Clay" from last year's Red Barked Tree was fine, but a bit pinched and stiff, with production that seemed a bit dated – too late 90s, maybe? I can't exactly place it, but it's the sound of bad computers. This live recording from the band's Black Session LP is drastically superior. The tone of the song is just the same, but the performance benefits from a slightly more slack physicality. One could never describe Wire as a loose band, but unlike the studio recording, all the parts in this version sound like they come from the movements of human arms and legs. And yes, pretty much all music is the result of the human body in motion, but the best of it in some way communicates that to the listener. The attack of a chord, the hit of a drum, the seconds it takes to move from one chord to another. We're listening to that abstraction of physicality to rhythm and melody; it's part of how we connect to it. We're always trying to find people on the other end of songs. Not all of the live versions on Black Sessions are improvements upon the originals – Colin Newman has some trouble hitting his notes in the classic "Map Ref. 41ºN 93ºW," and generally sounds less engaged when singing the older numbers – but it's still an impressive document of a remarkably consistent band that has long since settled into a clearly defined aesthetic. Buy it from Wire.

Chairlift @ Bowery Ballroom 1/23/2012 Sidewalk Safari / Le Flying Saucer Hat / Take It Out On Me / Wrong Opinion / Ghost Tonight / Cool As A Fire / Planet Health / Met Before / Frigid Spring / Guilty As Charged / I Belong In Your Arms // Evident Utensil / Amanaemonesia I reviewed Chairlift's wonderful new album Something for Pitchfork. Here are some thoughts on this performance.

Chairlift "I Belong In Your Arms"

1. Chairlift are clearly confident and bold enough to skip their most famous song in concert. I don't think anyone was too upset about this. While I tend to think that artists should be generous in playing their best-known songs, they weren't wrong to place the emphasis on their very, very strong new songs and to make a case that they don't really need "Bruises" to play a good, engaging set. Audience response to songs like "Amanaemonesia," "Met Before" and "I Belong In Your Arms" suggest those songs are going to end up being "hits" with their fans anyway. 2. The band's sound is just as clean and precise in concert as it is on record. I'm a sucker for this sort of hyper-professionalism, particularly when a group projects a good, positive energy rather than rote recital. Olga Bell from Bell joined the band on keyboards and backing vocals - she nailed her parts, and served as a fine foil to Caroline Polachek, who was freed up to focus on her vocals and dancing. Polachek's vocal performance was outstanding and she was charismatic enough that her talent for nuanced phrasing and vocal restraint was not lost in the less forgiving dynamics of a stage performance. 3. A strange young woman jumped on to the stage during "I Belong In Your Arms" and tried to dance up on Caroline. A female security guard tried to pull her away, but the girl resisted, and accidentally hit the singer in the face as she tried to perform. A second guard showed up, but the girl was still flailing around, refusing to get off stage. Caroline made it through the song, but was visibly startled and laughing at the absurdity of the situation. It was a really strange thing to see, and pretty unexpected at this sort of pop show. Buy it from Amazon.

Imperial Teen "No Matter What You Say"

Imperial Teen come and go, turning up every six years or so to deliver a new set of lovely indie pop tunes that don't quite fit in with anything else out at the time. Their identity is very consistent, but the character of each record is a bit different -- in the case of Feel the Sound, their latest, they are mostly favoring keyboards over guitars. As a result, the sound is lighter and brighter, which serves some songs better than others. I like the way the simple keyboard part in "No Matter What You Say" is gently insistent, so even before the harmonies and rhythm whoosh up a bit in the chorus, you have a sense that the music is starting to pick up a light breeze. It's a great sentiment to pair with the feeling of the music too -- defiant, but politely so. Buy it from Amazon.

Sleigh Bells "Comeback Kid"

Sleigh Bells make such overwhelmingly physical music that the lyrics would seem to be besides the point of the overall sensation of texture, rhythm and melody, but it seems notable that so many of their songs are fixated on winning and losing. Notable, but not surprising: The music itself typically sounds like an expression of triumph. "Comeback Kid" is especially direct, with Alexis Krauss giving the listener a pep talk set to her most appealing melody yet. (It comes off as very Aaliyah to my ears.) Krauss' voice was more of a texture on Treats here, but in this track, she's on equal footing with Derek Miller's wonderfully blunt guitar riff. The whole song sounds as if they're willing the entire world into being a better, more exciting place. I can get behind that. Pre-order it from Amazon.

The Shins "Simple Song"

James Mercer hasn't changed his approach to melody much over the years – he mostly focuses on long phrases that curl into very pleasing shapes – but his approach to accompaniment has become more bold and brawny recently, as if he finally realized that adding a bit of weight and punch to his rhythms would not immediately shatter the delicacy of his tunes. "Simple Song" isn't even particularly heavy, but the added force sells the conviction of the lyrics, which reflect on life-changing epiphanies. I'm especially fond of his parting lines, which would be thoughtful in any context, but come out sounding like hard-earned wisdom in this context: "Love's such a delicate thing that we do / we've nothing to prove / which I never knew." Buy it from Amazon.

Lee Ranaldo "Off the Wall"

It's sorta funny that the two guitarists in Sonic Youth spent years pushing at the limits of stylized noise in rock music, but both ended up embracing folk pop when left to their own devices. "Off the Wall," the first track released from Lee Ranaldo's first-ever solo songwriter album - something I have been waiting for since 1995 or so! - is gorgeous, jangly and unambiguously pop, and has a more striking resemblance to the music of, say, the Gin Blossoms, than pretty much anything in the Sonic Youth canon. Well, not quite: While the style and form of "Off the Wall" is more conventional than most SY music, Ranaldo's guitar flourishes are very familiar, highlighting a tunefulness he's been bringing to his main band's music for three decades. Pre-order it from Matador Records.

Field Music "A New Town"

The Brewis brothers of Field Music are masters of stoic, tightly composed formalist rock. Their melodic sensibility is clearly derived from Paul McCartney (and his various musical progeny), but they replace McCartney's loose ease with OCD rigidity. This could be a recipe for musical disaster, but they own it - it always sounds like a very honest expression of a particular sensibility. "A New Town," from their forthcoming album Plumb, breaks little ground for the band - well, unless you want to focus on the inclusion of odd bubble sound effects – but it's an example of the band at their best, when their precise, meticulous execution of layered rhythms and melodies serves to illustrate the mindset of the lyrics, which approach the dissolution of a relationship with an almost ridiculous degree of forced rationality in a highly emotional situation. Pre-order it from Amazon.

Sleeper Agent "Proper Taste"

Sleeper Agent aren't exactly ground-breakers, but they're exceptionally good with dynamics, so their straightforward rockers have a charm and charge that's lacking in a shocking number of their peers. This is especially true with regards to the chemistry and interplay between co-vocalists Alex Kandel and Tony Smith, who key into different but complementary styles of being a rock badass. While Smith navigates the aesthetic ground between Jack White and Neil Hagerty, Kandel is more Joan Jett – a bit cool, aloof and biting, but outgoing and aggressive enough to avoid receding into the track. "Proper Taste" is one of their most thrilling numbers, with the two spitting lines at each other over breakneck pre-chorus before joining for a big sing-along that opens with "call me pumpkin, carve me out," a line that I find incredibly appealing though I'm not really sure why. Buy it from Amazon.