By LA Weekly
By Henry Rollins
By Weekly Photographers
By Shea Serrano
By Nate "Igor" Smith
By Dan Weiss
By Erica E. Phillips
By Kai Flanders
THE CRYSTAL METHOD
Legion of Boom (V2). Whew . . . Many, many beats, bro, in varying degrees of body-rockin’ blahblahblah. After hearing Fantômas or Ghost or Liars, this particular dance aesthetic seems slightly petrified, a bit past it, though I’m conceding that comparing the lot is somewhat like trying to make out to Kraftwerk, or maybe Bob Dylan or — well, whatever floats your boat. Anyway, Crystal Method does several collabs with the likes of the BellRays’ Lisa Kekaula (she’s tuff), former Limp Bizkit guitarist Wes Borland, and ex-Kyuss singer John Garcia bleeting an Axel Coverdale; Milla Jovovich and even Jon Brion dart into the fray, but the cuts with Roots dude Rahzel ring the funkiest, ’cause his voice is raspy and kinda mean. But it’s all style, crystallization, like the entire dance/ breaks/hip-hop/metal-funk garbage can dumped out on the sidewalk, scraped up and put in the washing machine, spun dry. However, while you may wonder if this incredibly functional music Jan. ’04 edition is important, you may not feel like thinking, either: The beats are kinda dusty, but they’re shiny, too, and they slam! when you play it real, real loud. So that’s fresh, like a fresh McDonald’s hamburger.
Talkie Walkie (Astralwerks). The conventional wisdom on the French duo Air is that they’ll never again equal the serene moody majesties of their 1998 Moon Safari, an album so effortlessly and ineffably moving that its subtle evocations simply had to be a freakish confluence of time, place and some mysterious olfactory element. Talkie Walkie has been called a return to Moon Safari’s cool romantic etherealities, and while its 10 songs are fleecy and fluffy and crisply heart-tugging and almost scientifically spacious, thus irresistible, after four listens it’s . . . not taking me there . . . It must be said that I first heard Moon Safari while on a visit to Versailles, where I actually had the entire palace grounds to myself one late afternoon; as I gazed out at the expansive rear gardens and off into the gray-orange horizon, sunball sinking, a chilly mist rolled in, and the lingering traces of Moon Safari seemed unutterably perfect. I have a feeling that Talkie Walkie could be your Moon Safari, if the circumstances line up right.
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