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New works by David Bowie, Tom Waits and more

When David Bowie tries to keep up with the times, you let him, because he's been ahead of them for so damn long. When he wants to do a Frank Black-penned composition, it's rubber-stamped. Neil Young? Well, he'll take the money, and one imagines he admires Bowie's natty verve, anyway.

The bad news is it isn't near as urgent as his early 70s work. The good news? It's not Tin Machine. Here, Bowie sounds modern by going retro -- back to his futuristic paranoid recordings of the early 70s. It's a sleek, black, New York City-in-2020 kind of recording, the kind that evokes a shadowy Gotham City, with gargoyles perched on skyscrapers and the sunlight sneaking in just enough to cast ominous shadows. Bowie does shadowy electronic lounge here, all circuitry and dry martinis -- highlights include a sort of Major Tom redux, "Slip Away," a cover of the Pixies' "Cactus," and the Dave Grohl-assisted "I've Been Waiting For You." Given Bowie's recent track record, that last song may mean you, The Listener. More albums as realized as this one would help.

Sonic Youth -- Murray Street (Geffen)

The second in the band's trilogy about the "cultural history of Lower Manhattan," Murray Street follows the criminally underrated NYC Ghosts & Flowers. (The record is named after the location of Sonic Youth's studio; the street is also where one of the engines from the hijacked World Trade Center jets landed.) Unlike NYC Ghosts & Flowers, which seemed more of a Kim Gordon album, Murray Street has more of a Thurston Moore freejazz/harmonic stamp and even features the saxophone work of Jim Sauter and Don Dietrich, as well as Moore crony and honorary Youth member Jim O'Rourke.

Musically, it's all tones (turned) on tail, featuring Moore and Lee Ranaldo's famous detuned/retuned/untuned melodies, some Roy Haynes-like drumming from Steve Shelley, and unobtrusive, harmonic bass from a marvelously understated Gordon. It's a great document of the beautiful noise of a city like none other, and the cacophony of the group's sound is a perfect fit. In the midst of songs like "Disconnection Notice," "Rain On Tin" and "Karen Revisited" (a sort-of follow-up to the song "Karen," a tribute to Karen Carpenter), the band somehow manages to simultaneously evoke urban bathos, the beauty of found art, the clang of cars and buses, and sitting on the stoop with a bottle of wine. In short, it's the sound of a band that knows its home.

Electric Wizard -- Let Us Prey (The Music Cartel/Rise Above)

Electric Wizard, the self-proclaimed Heaviest Band On Earth, ain't Devil Music. They're too cool to be Devil Music. Devil Music has to be a bit cheesy. The Wiz ain't cheesy, though one suspects they might answer to cheeky. The Wiz, in short, make Tony Iommi look like Carlos frickin' Cavazo. Granted, if you choose to call your band Electric Wizard, you're setting yourself up for some jokes on your behalf. These guys believe it, however, and the lyrics are coated with equal doses of Conan The Barbarian references, H.P. Lovecraft musings, and distortion, all delivered in a cloud of pot smoke. Bass lines rumble like fault lines. Singer Jus Oborn sings like those weird voices you hear in your dreams that seem to make sense but are utterly unintelligible. No matter: If you could make out what they were saying, it wouldn't be near as interesting, nor as cool. Standout tracks include "We, the Undead," "The Outsider" and "Master of Ulchemy." Nobody beats The Wiz, indeed.

Steve Earle -- Sidetracks (E-Squared/Artemis)

Included in the liner notes inside Steve's new album is a couple of sentences where he states that "...these are not outtakes. They are, rather, stray tracks, recorded at different times for different reasons that I am very proud of and are either unreleased or underexposed." (Aside: This guy wrote a book of stories?) Thing is, he's right. It's a pretty damn good recording, primarily due to the fact that Earle takes on songs that ordinarily wouldn't have fit into his rather conceptual oeuvre. There are covers like the dancehall classic "Johnny Too Bad," featuring both a Jamaican toaster and alt-honker Scott Miller, the blistering straightforward Nirvana cover "Breed," and even the classic "Time Has Come Today," featuring Abbie Hoffman samples and (gasp) Sheryl Crow. Movie one-offs include the hopeful "Some Dreams," "Open Your Window," "Me And The Eagle" and "Ellis Unit One," likely one of the best songs Earle has ever penned.

Tom Waits -- Blood Money, Alice (Anti)

As if real punk rock needed any other reason to be cool, consider Epitaph's Anti imprint, home of both Merle Haggard and Tom Waits. Both artists have always done whatever it is they want, with little regard for the label they're currently on. Lucky for them, they now have a label that encourages such outlaw behavior. The album Blood Money is based on the play Woyzeck, written in 1837 by a Georg Buchner. Alice is loosely based on the purported obsession between Lewis Carroll and Alice Liddell, the inspiration behind Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. The former is nicely described in, of all things, Epitaph's press release: "...sounds like a dead army of army skeleton men." It's a reality-based horror cycle of a man gone mad, and only an artist and songwriter of Waits' caliber remember to put the (gallows) humor in. Alice is a more fantasy-based concept, though with the familiar Waits trademarks of loss and swallowed regret. Both albums are essentially concept pieces, but I prefer putting them in the CD changer and hitting the "random" button, to better revel in the differences (and many similarities) of the stories. The songs are anything but random, however, showing how love and war can wound a man equally.

DJ Shadow -- The Private Press (MCA)

What the hell do you do with DJ Shadow? Hell, even our local record chains have him listed variously under dance, hip-hop and rock. Hip-hop heads might think he's not bouncy enough. Dance folks might not find it energetic enough. Rock folks may find it a little far removed from the guitarbassdrumsvocals template and bellyache that he doesn't play an instrument (a ridiculous claim -- circuitry plus human ability to make choices based on such also gave us electric guitars and keyboards).

Jazz fans ought to get it, however. Shadow's a walking thrift store of music. He's also that guy that can go to a thrift store after you've been to it and cull all sorts of great albums out of the bins, with money left over for some vintage gadgetry to repair in his spare time. The Private Press is an auditory wonder, with retro samples fitting seamlessly with Shadow's beats, which are often produced live. The old skool samples work much in the same fashion that viewing pictures from an old high school yearbook from 20 years ago might -- age has burnished them somewhat, life and loss giving them a gravity you didn't see (or, in this case, hear) before. It's an album meant to be consumed in one sitting (preferably with headphones), but "Giving Up The Ghost," "Six Days" and the twin before-and-after cuts "Mashin' On The Motorway" and "Blood On The Motorway" are standouts.

Various Artists -- WWF Tough Enough 2 (Geffen)

Lots of heavy rock here from the People's NuRockers, most of which is so damn bad I'd rather be put in a figure-four leglock by Ric Flair. Repeatedly. You have Cold, Limp Bizkit, a forgettable Staind track (neat fact: the first three songs reference being "fucked up"), and more. You get Sinisstar, who aren't, even slightly. There's Fred Durst cronies Puddle of Mudd, who ought to be renamed Pile Of S**t. And, inexplicably, Weezer (!) and Queens of the Stone Age. Truth be told, the Weezer song kinda sucks, and the QOTSA song isn't anything to write home about, either, which pains me more than you can imagine. I suppose it's kinda cool that those two got paid in full by Mr. McMahon to air out their dirty laundry. That's no excuse for anyone buying it, though.

Raphael Saadiq -- Instant Vintage (Universal)

The longtime producing wunderkind and former Lucy Pearl and Tony Toni Tone member has finally released his first solo record, the aptly titled Instant Vintage. The album moves with a certain greasy-jointedness that calls to mind the tracks he's engineered for pal D'Angelo, except Saadiq gets a warmer buzz going here. If D'Angelo is strong pot, Saadiq is ecstasy. Equally good for Sunday mornings or Saturday nights, long as you're not doing anything that requires the use of heavy machinery. *

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