Liars
Sisterworld
(Mute)
These Australian art-rockers deliver the unexpected, but Sisterworld doesn’t represent a radical shift so much as a summation. It splits the difference between the successful experimentalism of Drum’s Not Dead and back-to-basics rock of Liars. It’s brimming with queasy soundscapes, dark psychodramas, coruscating metallic riffs and hushed string sections. Many tunes are sewn from contradictory textures, exploding and imploding by their own internal logic. The unstable effect is easy to admire, but the songs themselves can be difficult to embrace. It’s a relief when they cut loose—on the stomping rant “Scarecrows On a Killer Slant” and coruscating raver “The Overachievers”—or explore a mood like the menacing drone groove of “Proud Evolution.” The rest of the album represents a fertile limbo of piled-on possibilities, demanding to be experienced on its own schizophrenic terms. —Jeff Jackson
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Joanna Newsom
Have One On Me
(Drag City)
Newsom’s airy, young voice often conjures up a feeling of innocence in her storytelling. In Have One On Me, a three-disc set, Newsom has taken on a much heavier tone. “Easy” is a disjointed, piano-driven, jazzy opera that presents a darker version of Newsom’s dreamy landscapes. “Good Intentions Paving Company” is a take on the Southern rock ballad. “Baby Birch” starts out as a gentle love song and crescendos to a percussion-heavy dance beat, then becomes a unique monster. Despite those different sounds, there are things that have stayed the same about Newsom’s writing, and the title track, “Have One On Me” (which clocks in at a solid 11 minutes), pays homage to fans of her earlier work. —Jillian Fink
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Various Artists
Brazilian Fuzz Guitar Bananas
(Tropicalia in Furs)
Brazilian Fuzz Guitar Bananas offers a choice selection of revved-up, fuzzed-out, psychedelic rock tunes from the late 1960s through the mid-1970s. Think of it as a Brazilian Nuggets. Instead of drawing on popular tunes from the Tropicalia movement, the compilation focuses on one-off experiments by bands that have largely vanished into the mists of time. It opens with a gonzo version of the Batman theme, describing the masked marvel’s adventures in space. Other highlights include 14 Bis’ overdriven freakbeat gem “God Save the Queen” (not that one), two distortion-drenched rockers by Loyce E Os Gnomes, and Mac Rybell’s acid-damaged cover of “The Lantern.” The songs may not be blazingly original, but they’re more than curiosities. For fans of garage rock and vintage psychedelia, the thoughtfully assembled and beautifully packaged Bananas offers an irresistible good time. —Jeff Jackson
