Peelander-Z
P-TV-Z
(Chicken Ranch)
In many ways, “Japanese Action Comic Punk Band” Peelander-Z seem cut out for children’s music, if only because their marginal English borders on childlike. Their alien approach to the world has made them a genuine phenomenon, and anyone who’s seen their live show knows it’s practically “made for TV.” From brightly colored costumes to manic, audience participation-filled hijinks (e.g. “human bowling”), the Ramones-y trio have completely devoured, deconstructed and regurgitated American punk rock and culture in general. This latest, billed as a kids’ record, still screams with noisy adrenaline worthy of The Stooges, but this time they’ve added some more sophisticated bits, such as their part-ska “Old MacDonald (E-I-E-I-O),” dental sound effects in “No More Cavities” and even what sounds like a pretty good Elmo impression. Hello, Yo Gabba Gabba? —Tom Sturm
Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birken
Jane Birkin et Serge Gainsbourg
(Light in the Attic)
This infamous 1969 collaboration between French songwriter Gainsbourg and English actress Birkin is finally being reissued in the U.S. It’s anchored by the classic “Je T’Aime, Moi Non Plus,” which finds the couple simulating pillow talk and orgasmic sighs over a sexy lounge groove. Denounced by the Pope, it quickly became an iconic hit. The rest of the album includes duets and solo performances, from old-fashioned chansons to moody orchestral pop to squelchy funk. One highlight: the deliriously decadent “69 Annee Erotique,” reminiscent of Stereolab’s brightly poppy “L’anamour.” Though a number of these songs have appeared on compilations, fans should look closely at this reissue, which includes the valuable bonus track “La Chanson de Slogan,” remastered sound, and a 32-page booklet with new interviews and original artwork. —Jeff Jackson
Ray Charles
Rare Genius: The Undiscovered Masters
(Concord)
It may be impossible to dislike the music of Ray Charles. It’s got everything—good musicianship, inimitable and soulful vocals, irresistible grooves, one foot in American tradition, and the other in innovation. Whoever was sitting, accidentally or otherwise, on these unreleased tracks just did the world a favor. Unlike the bargain basement material that often arrives on posthumous releases, these tunes, recorded in the ’70s, ’80s and ’90s, were certainly worthy of release. There are some that include a string section and big band-style production, others that dwell in stripped-down, nearly disco groove. A heavy blues vibe is often present as well. The best notion is to pop this one in and simply enjoy as the tracks unreel, leading up to the kind of spine-tingling revelation one usually expects to remain in the realm of fantasy: a Ray Charles duet with Johnny Cash on a Kris Kristofferson gospel tune. —James Heflin
