With so many of the Old Reliable-ers expending major creative energy on other projects, it’s nice to see the guys had enough left over to bring us a solid album of their vintage amplified country. It’s also lovely to hear them rip it up–this is altogether a more spirited outing than their previous release, the moodier Pulse of Light/Dark Landscape.

The Burning Truth kicks off with the title track, a right-cracking, galloping love song, one of those that makes you think, "Man, wish someone loved me like that..." Plus, you just know Shuyler Jansen understands that sometimes what a girl needs is a stiff bourbon and silent companionship.

Speaking of vices, there’s a whole lot of smoking going on, notably some hot-as-hell keyboard work ("Standing on the Earth Tonight," in particular) and guitars that chug along like locomotives. (And the delightful novelty of having a bass player in a country band who does more than prop up the rhythm section never wears off.)

Brooders needn’t fret. Though the gentlemen spend much of The Burning Truth doing their best mid-career Steve Earle homage, there are still a few tunes perfect for staring morosely into the bottom of your beer.

A couple quibbles. What’s up with the super-chintzy liner notes? Jeff Sylvester’s art is always appreciated, but so is some information. And yes, it’s a solid album, and the musicianship is first-rate, but after a decade, it would be swell to see more than a demonstration of proficiency. A few more surprises may be in order next time around.

STEW KIRKWOOD
And a One and a Two
(Sound Extractor)
***1/2 (out of five)

When I was a kid, I used to spend whole afternoons by my old turntable listening to Disney storybooks on vinyl. You probably remember them as well. You would flip the pages at the sound of the bell, following the story through the colourful drawings, and it was tons of fun. The best part was that you really didn’t have to know how to read. Ah, the innocence of youth. Stew Kirkwood’s And a One and a Two is a guitar-pop artist’s work. Pop songs tell stories. Love stories.

Hopeful tales of "me" and "you". What sets Kirkwood apart is that, within a much-maligned genre, he didn’t force his songs to come out. He didn’t make an album because he had to. He made an album because it was time to tell the stories that had been brewing in his head over the years following his work with local outfit Welcome. He’s also a new dad, and he recently admitted the concept art for the album was inspired by those aforementioned vinyl storybooks. And it works.

His storybook kicks off with the rock-solid "Here I Come," falls in love on "Make Your Move" and "Fall Takes To Flight," and slows down for the multi-layered last three tracks, incorporating strings and synths to a soothing coda. The production is slick but never candy-coated, the guitars having all the space they need to breathe. Guest players Jay Cairns, Paul Fuellbrandt, Greg Ferguson, and many more complete Kirkwood’s work masterfully. The only let down might be "Old 45", a rather ordinary roots-rock track that doesn’t seem to fit within And a One and a Two’s spectrum given its awkward sing-along pattern. All in all, it’s a very tight album. The pages turn right on cue and the pictures are evocative enough that the story tells itself just by listening.

CHIXDIGGIT!
Pink Razors
(Fat Wreck)
**** (out of five)

It’s about freakin’ time! Between MTX wandering off and channeling Elvis Costello, The Travoltas being seduced into Duran Duran’s house of synth, The Huntingtons and Screeching Weasel breaking up, it’s been a sad, sad stretch of time for those of us desperate for a band to fill the power pop-punk shoes of the Ramones. What have we been left with that qualifies for punk nowadays? Metalcore, emocore, crapcore–whatever you name it, the sniffly, screamy, prepackaged angst rock that’s being pushed upon us by the Warped Tour has overgrown the punk rock family tree that began with the Ramones (by way of the Beach Boys).

Pink Razors, the first Chixdiggit! album in half a decade, should perk the ears of any jaded pop-punker who’s less than impressed with the new school of clowns getting rotation nowadays. It’s the ton o’ fun that you’ve been missing: the songs have catchy hooks, sweet choruses, and barely outlast my sex drive (two minutes)! While the sarcasm of much of their past work may not be as pronounced, the aging brats from Calgary still have more hooks than a meat factory. Most of the 13 songs are instant classics in the Chixdiggit! canon, but particular credit should be given to "Geocities Kitty," a sweet tale of internet dating. I mean, really now: who else is going to name a song "Geocities Kitty" these days? Not Taking Back Jimmy’s Dashboard, that’s for sure.

TTC
Batard Sensible
(Big Dada)
*** 1/2 (out five)

Almost on the verge of grime, French hip-hop collective TTC fire out aggressive couplets and squelchy electro beats in their quest for world dominance, and Batard Sensible is only the next step in a well-orchestrated plan. They trade lines in their native language, but their enjoyment of the art is universally apparent. Some assumptions can be made about each rapper’s character from their delivery and voice. And, in some cases, they are true. For example, Teki Latex sounds like a large muppet, so I assumed he was the party guy. After a trip to Babelfish translator, turns out I’m right ("These two twin sister lesbians/ Dance naked on the bar in couple/ Unless in fact the beers are all shown to me in double"). Still, the star here is the malleable, club-crushing production from Para One, Tacteel, and Tido that takes cues from UK grime, ’80s electro, and broken beat. In one chorus the boys chant "We’ve already won this rap game." Not quite, but at least their "In Da Club" ("Dans Le Club") is more danceable than ours.

LOUIS XIV
The Best Little Secrets Are Kept
(Atlantic)
** (out of five)

From their ethos to their packaging (the cover has a naked woman with the track listing scrawled on her back), one thing is clear about Louis XIV: they’ve done their homework. Pushing heavy blues riffs, misogyny, and The Rolling Stones back catalogue in their shopping cart, their debut LP, The Best Little Secrets Are Kept, is a mildly enjoyable bar rock record with some promising technical points. Almost immediately you’re thrust into awkward come-ons ("Pull down your top and show me a little tit"), moans, and fake female voices ("Paper Doll") that make the experience a little too calculated. The band is the counterpoint to Jet–that is to say, they are a rip-off crew that (kind of) makes it work. As is typically a problem with textbook bands, Louis doesn’t create their own persona; instead they crib The Who, The Doors, T-Rex, and The Stooges as sleeve-side influences. The standout is the rousing yet ridiculous "Finding Out True Love Is Blind," an ode to the road and the different flavours of women they wish to encounter ("Oh chocolate girl, you’re lookin’ like something I want / And your little Asian friend, well, she can come if she wants"). If you can manage to turn off your brain it has a couple solid moments.

PREFUSE 73
Surrounded By Silence
(Warp)
***** (out of five)

It is quite amazing to see how far Scott Herren has progressed from the more minimal, clunkier sounds of his earlier releases on through to the busy stylings of One Word Extinguisher to what Surrounded By Silence is: a fine compromise of the first two, with an even deeper hip-hop sensibility.

The vocal tracks are phenomenal. The previously-released single "Hideyaface," featuring Ghostface and El-P, still shines, and the Wu-Tang collaboration, "Just The Thought" (w/Masta Killa and GZA), simply rolls and bounces in all the right places. Fans who liked how he crunked and thugged up the chill on the recent Savath and Savalas project will get their two fingers up for the marvelous "Pastel Assasins" and "It’s Crowded" (w/Claudia and Alejandra Deheza). Herren’s experiments will still keep you interested, whether it’s on an epic scale ("Gratis" w/Pedro) or on the minimal tip ("Sabbatical With Options" w/ Aesop Rock). Even a hip-hop ballad sounds fresh here, as evinced by "Now You’re Leaving," where he takes a harmony straight out of a soul ballad, glitches it on repeat while Camu Tao lyrically stumbles through the process of lost love.

SAM PREKOP
Who’s Your New Professor?
(Thrill Jockey)
**** (out of five)

Before I knew it, it was over.

Sam Prekop’s Who’s Your New Professor? had ended, it’s breezy sunshine-filled melodies but a memory. The only thing left to do was to go back to the start.

Chicago’s Sea and Cake frontman certainly didn’t suffer from the dreaded sophomore slump with his latest release, yielding similar results as his self-titled debut: a toe-tapping, jazzy, post-rock-filled collection of melodies that will chase any blues away.

Granted, it’s not all that different from the Sea and Cake’s latest efforts (Oui and One Bedroom). In fact, it’s almost too similar to his previous solo work. But it just flows so steadily and with the same kind of ease that it’s impossible not to enjoy. What impresses on Who’s Your New Professor? is the way styles are clearly cut between each song. "Magic Step" is a shuffling samba, while "Density" is pure Prekop-infused jazz, and "Little Bridges" borders on slow funk R&B. The arrangements are crisp but it’s the quality of the guitar work that should really be focused on. Whether it’s on the lightly fingered "A Sleepy Hollow" or the bitingly distorted "Dot Eye," Prekop and long-time collaborator Archer Prewitt give the songs a whole new depth and create a much appreciated contrast between his dry airy vocals and the occasional horn that streaks his musical canvas.

While it normally wouldn’t get such a high rating based on how it ranks compared to his previous work, Who’s Your New Professor? is so endearing it could easily become your springtime soundtrack.

One to play over and over again.

ALPHA YAYA DIALLO
Djama
(Jericho Beach)
** 1/2 (out of five)

This fourth solo release by the multiple Juno-winner and former member of Fatala continues his exploration of his Guinean roots in conjunction with various stylistic approaches and rhythms he has gathered from his travels throughout Africa–places like Senegal and the four provinces of his native Guinea.

Djama consists of the kind of grooves and African guitar commonly heard from other West African artists; while the production seems to emulate a label Bleu recording–and the playing is comparable–it just have the same kind of heart. Tracks like "Nabhoran" have the same mantra/drone quality of a meditative Ali FarkaToure song, but it doesn’t take you to the same place.

That said, this is a very well recorded album, enjoyable to the ear, with wonderfully executed playing. It doesn’t provide the harsh, deep-dry soundscapes you hear other West African music, but, then again, Diallo lives in Vancouver, and it’s wet there!

OCEAN COLOUR SCENE
A Hyperactive Workout for the Flying Squad
(Sanctuary)
* 1/2 (out of five)

I suppose we all need something to throw in the PT Cruiser while we’re on the way to Moxie’s.

Really, despite the desperately reaching name there’s nothing exhilarating or particularly kinetic on the disc, an average-bordering-on-dismal outing through late ’60s Brit-pop revival territory.

Oddly enough, Guy Ritchie and Paul Weller like these guys (two for the "pro" side of the list, though both have sucked hard of late). Then again, Oasis called them the "second best band in Britain" (big fat "con").

This is simply the most asinine, tedious interpretation of mod I’ve heard since the mid-’90s: ham-fisted horn sections, jingly-jangly guitars that are so tepid as to evoke elevator music, lyrics a high-school girl would wince at, and Northern soul wannabe "woo-woos" that are so grating they beg to be placed in a death-match pit with that chick from The Nanny.

"Drive Away" is one of those ninth-circle-of-hell-along-with-Lionel Ritchie ballads, the country-flavoured "This Day Should Last Forever" may result in a worldwide fatwa against the band from fiddle players defending their good name, and the tribal-spiritual optimism track "Gods World" should come with a razorblade.

As they say on the first track, "Everything Comes at the Right Time": "Gotta move outta here/gotta change my name."

Yes, please do.