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Disc Of The Week
Tom Waits
Glitter and Doom Live
(Anti)
****
Tom Waits is one of the great live performers in music today, but he’s been curiously ill-served by his live albums: Nighthawks at the Diner (1975) suffers from a weak lineup of songs, while Big Time (1988) suffered from the same arty, alienating affectations as the film it accompanied. But now, with Glitter and Doom Live, Waits fans have the live album they’ve been waiting for — and right from the opening number, “Lucinda/Ain’t Goin’ Down” (a medley of two songs from his Orphans compilation), this music has a loose, joyous energy that’s been missing from Waits’ last few studio albums. His growl is guttural as ever, but I had forgotten what a flexible and variable instrument it is — there are at least three different registers Waits can growl in, from the junkyard dog aggression of “Singapore” to the drunken, sentimental keen of “Fannin Street” to the nasal, half-senile twang of “I’ll Shoot the Moon.” But wait, there’s more: a bonus disc of Waits stage banter — 36 minutes of animal trivia, tall tales, and shameless puns. (“Shrimp never give anything to charity,” Waits observes. “That’s because they’re shellfish.”) The official title is Tom Tales, but I like to think of it as Waits’ version of Having Fun With Elvis On Stage.
PAUL MATWYCHUK

Alt-Rock
Weezer
Raditude
(Interscope)
****
To quote Ralph Waldo Emerson, “It is a happy talent to know how to play.” Weezer seems to have remembered how to have fun again, and that is all right by me. Raditude isn’t all happy-crappy, but it’s definitely got pep — “(If You Are Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To” is as infectious as baby farts. I will confess, though, that I originally had a problem with it being a double CD. After all, isn’t that just bragging? It’s like having an extra set of teeth in your mouth — impressive, but unnecessary. But after listening to Raditude several times, the bonus CD seems less of a showoff move and more of a necessity. “Underdogs” has insight and a vocal line that lets Rivers show off his chops. “Love Is the Answer” reeks of East Indian spirituality and simplicity, while “I Can’t Stop Partying” hilariously combines a teensy-weensy rap and cute little white boy irony. Taken as a whole, Raditude is a bit of a breath of fresh air. Fun and without trepidation, it’s got everything a Weezer fan would want. It’s nice to hear the fun in their music again. For some reason, it feels like it’s been a long time.
TRENT WILKIE

Solo Project
Julian Casablancas
Phrazes for the Young
(RCA)
****
What do kids today think of Julian Casablancas? For a certain demographic — of which I’m a member — he still looms large as the unfathomably cool frontman for The Strokes. But those guys haven’t put out a record in three years, and a good one in six. So odds are that Phrazes for the Young, Casablancas’ solo debut, will be seen either as a hotly anticipated genre-shifter, or else a surprisingly hip effort from some 31-year-old dude with shaggy hair and a leather jacket. “Surprising” is the key word here. Freed from the shackles that come with stripped-down rock ’n’ roll, here Casablancas indulges his every musical whim, adding layer after layer after layer to these eight songs until their seams threaten to burst. But somehow it works: from the keyboards-as-car-horns in “4 Chords of the Apocalypse” to the drunken bluesman’s lament of “Ludlow St.,” Casablancas casts a weird and enthralling spell. Who knew the key to staying cool was trying harder?
MICHAEL HINGSTON

Freak Folk
Devendra Banhart
What We Will Be
(Warner Bros)
***1/2
After the sprawling, overblown 2007 masterpiece Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon, fans wondered if Devendra Banhart had painted himself into a corner. But on What We Will Be (his first on major label Warner Bros.) he adeptly changes gears, stripping down his trademark “freak-folk” sound and channelling The Beach Boys, Cat Stevens, and, on “Foolin’,” even a bit of island reggae. Although the album is a little uneven and unfocused, its sunny optimism gives it a certain hippie charm, kind of like those Deadhead fans who still believe Jerry Garcia is alive and well. Although this never will be regarded as a “classic” Banhart album, it’s enjoyable enough to be worth a spin. So what if Pitchfork gave it 4 out of 10? Since when did listening to Pitchfork ever make you happy?
KORTNEY JMAEFF

TV Soundtrack
Various Artists
Glee: The Music, Season One (Volume 1)
(Columbia)
**
If you like the TV show Glee, you’ll probably get a chuckle out of hearing the cast’s version of Céline Dion’s “Taking Chances,” Kanye West’s “Gold Digger,” or even Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline” as images of high school divas, jocks, Cheerios, and assorted outcasts dance in matching uniforms in your head. And that cast contains some great singers, including Broadway vets like Matthew Morrison and Lea Michele. (Wicked alum Kristen Chenoweth gets two tunes on the album, even though she only appeared in one episode.) Gleeks will lament the omission of the “It’s My Life/Confessions Part II” and “Halo/Walking on Sunshine” as well as the teacher/man-band version of “I Wanna Sex You Up,” but don’t despair: Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing” and Avril Lavigne’s “Keep Holding On” do make the cut. If you’ve never seen the show, though, give it a miss: all you’ll hear are some terrific singers doing some pretty cheesy karaoke.
MICHELLE GARCIA