Thomas Mapfumo & The Blacks Unlimited
Gwindingwi Rine Shumba
(Water)
Recorded in 1980 to celebrate Zimbabwe's independence, Mapfumo's Gwindingwi Rine Shumba (There's a Lion in the Bush) was the culmination of a series of remarkable recordings cut during the country's civil war. It may not have the same wartime gravitas as Chimurenga Singles or Hokoyo!, but Gwindingwi greatly benefits from a decent studio and time to craft tunes. The band fires on all cylinders, whether uncorking carnivalesque horns or slinky electric rhythms. Now that President Robert Mugabe has turned from liberator to butcher, the optimistic lyrics have a bitter sting. But the music retains its jubilant optimism, even if the historical moment it celebrated quickly became a mirage. —Jeff Jackson
Terminator: Salvation
Original Soundtrack
(Reprise/Warner)
I've never listened to a soundtrack before seeing the movie, and it's difficult to critique it as such without the accompanying visuals. Still, this score is composed and produced by Danny Elfman, and while I was originally skeptical of his ability to accurately punctuate such a dark tale (given some of his past whimsies), he's done a fine job. There are palpable ups and downs, clearly distinguishable differences between the soft, organic "human" themes and the harsh, mechanical "machine" themes, and a suitably grandiose use of subtle, lonely instruments and deep, rumbling orchestral brass, with melodies reminiscent of both Batman and Lord of the Rings. Alice in Chains' "Rooster" rounds out the CD for some reason. —Tom Sturm
Tortoise
Beacons of Ancestorship
(Thrill Jockey)
Tortoise is not necessarily out to give you an easy time—the first tune on Beacons of Ancestorship begins with an ear-splitting, high-pitched tone that goes on for a good while. That gives way to an engaging mix of old-fashioned analog synth and guitar, given a compelling rhythmic edge by pleasantly busy drumming. Things switch gears to a sort of cross of Edgar Winter's "Frankenstein" and Hearts of Space synth washes. The track goes out in a pounding fit of percussive glory followed by lingering electronic sounds. As the album progresses, these instrumental excursions get more varied and interesting, though they stay anchored in the same oddly-timbred, sometimes humorous sensibility. —James Heflin
Wolff
The Brass Ceiling
(independent)
Brian Wolff is one of the oddest musicians to hit the scene since Les Claypool. It's as if he showed up with his tuba to audition for Tom Waits' band in New Orleans, accidentally smoked some DMT and somehow wound up chained to a synthesizer in Trent Reznor's basement studio somewhere in Ohio. Though the recording quality of this CD leaves a bit to be desired, the creativity is monstrous, and often it's very hard to tell through all the effects that what you're hearing is an actual horn. Add to the mix drummer Steve Garofano, and you're presented with something bizarrely tribal at times, and at others feel like you're in a Plutonian marching band. Perplexing. —Tom Sturm
