SUN ARAW/ ETERNAL TAPESTRY
[Thrilljockey, July 19]
Do you remember the '80s sword-and-sorcery film Red Sonja? The one with Brigitte Nielsen and Schwarzenegger basically playing Conan but under a different name? The budget-epic Ennio Morricone soundtrack for that film is reissued today. But what you should really do is this: Torrent Red Sonja, mute your computer and then play the new Sun Araw/Eternal Tapestry collaboration recorded live at SXSW in 2010 over it. Also, trip balls.
A Wha' Him Deh Pon?
[2000 Black Records, available now]
Summer calls for records that can do double duty, chilling us out during the impending Carmageddon and infusing our backyard barbecues with enough energy to combat the enervation our (blessedly few) sweltering days bring. We got you: Impossibly prolific producer Dego's debut solo album carries you through fire and brimstone on supple, soulful grooves and coolly futuristic funk. Fly away on the magic carpet of “Interlude.” Just don't take your eyes off the road while dreaming of the party.
Norman Jay Presents Good Times 30
[Strut, July 19]
For three decades, DJ Jay's Good Times Sound System has been a staple of London's yearly multicultural rave, the Notting Hill Carnival. Jay knows his soul, from Little Anthony and the Imperials to Curtis Mayfield to the genre's latest 21st-century practitioners. This compilation, curated by a man so crucial to the sophisticated Brit dance scene that (like the Beatles) he merited an MBE from the Queen, is a wall-to-wall winner. Obscure highlight: Fries & Bridges' floor-packer “Forever This,” featuring a stellar vocal by Cee-Lo.
Within & Without
[Sub Pop Records, available now]
Ernest Greene went from his parents' house to the world stage in the span of just a year. That sort of premature attention on top of a blog-fueled hype machine would cripple most artists, but Greene and collaborator Ben Allen showcase a broader, more sophisticated spectrum of musicianship not seen on former EPs. Taking a step back from Washed Out's signature synth sound, they introduce string and xylophone arrangements that cry out in a beautiful sadness. Fans have nothing to fear, though. The album is still heavily rooted in Greene's signatures: weaving synths layered with echoing vocals, all held down by insistent dance beats.
Advertising disclosure: We may receive compensation for some of the links in our stories. Thank you for supporting LA Weekly and our advertisers.