LEARNING LATIN: SUBSTITUTE TEACHER

I haven't had time to do a "Learning Latin" post in a while. Two quick recommendations: the Fania All-Stars' half-studio/half-live Latin-Soul-Rock, which features guest appearances from Jan Hammer, Manu Dibango and Jorge (brother of Carlos) Santana; and Mon Rivera's Que Gente Averiguá are both awesome, but in totally different ways—unsurprising, seeing as the former was recorded 10 years after the latter. If you like Willie Colón's two-trombone sound, and who doesn't, you gotta hear where he stole it from (he acknowledged the debt with There Goes The Neighborhood, a 1975 collaborative album that kinda revived Rivera's career as his life was winding down).

But the reason I'm really writing this post is to direct you to this guy, who's writing lengthy, informed reviews of albums he then posts for download. So go check it out.

I STILL LIKE TERRIFYER BETTER, BUT...

He's right, you know.

And this has been a pretty damn good year for metal, generally. Albums in addition to Pig Destroyer's that I have liked or liked-a-lot:

3 Inches Of Blood, Fire Up The Blades
Beneath The Massacre, Mechanics Of Dysfunction
Bergraven, Dödsvisioner
Dimmu Borgir, In Sorte Diaboli
Dir en Grey, The Marrow Of A Bone
Glorior Belli, Manifesting The Raging Beast
Immolation, Shadows In The Light
Job For A Cowboy, Genesis
Kekal, The Habit Of Fire
Machine Head, The Blackening
Megadeth, United Abominations
Minsk, The Ritual Fires Of Abandonment
Nox, Ixaxaar
Poison, Poison'd
Rwake, Voices Of Omens
Vital Remains, Icons Of Evil

and probably a bunch more that aren't in my iPod at present.

KENGE KENGE: GET THIS NOW

I listen to a lot more African music in the summer than at any other point in the year. I mean, sure, no matter what the weather's like there are times when Fela's records absolutely call out to you, but generally, I find the lilting guitars and gentle but insistent rhythms of King Sunny Adé work best when I'm looking for something that'll make me walk slow, to keep from sweating so much that I look like a serial rapist or something. Anyway, unequivocal recommendation time: you will find no finer summer CD than Kenge Kenge's Introducing Kenge Kenge (World Music Network). They're a Luo group from Kenya, playing all-acoustic music that's at the root of the country's benga dance music, and this CD is kicking my ass but good. Kenge Kenge is everything I thought Konono No. 1 would be—powerful, trance-like grooves, percussion thundering in my skull as high-pitched, almost distorted melodies careen all over the place and chanted vocals play off each other. Except where Konono's 15-minute jams just get boring after about 90 seconds, and the novelty of their distorted junkyard likembes wears off only slightly more slowly, Kenge Kenge's all-acoustic sound, with violins and flutes the melodic instruments, is like fife-and-drum music amped up to 11 and pounded out by methed-up lunatics. Seriously, this is gonna be one of my albums of the year no matter what else comes out in the next six months. Get yourself one and crank it up. This ain't no easygoing shit - this is killer.

AN OPEN LETTER

Dear major record labels,

I know you're in trouble. Everybody says so, even people whose opinions are supported by knowledge and facts (and people like that make up a tiny, tiny minority in the music business).

So why are you signing Collie Buddz, Sony? Why are you allowing Steve Vai to make a 2CD set with a full orchestra behind him, Epic? Why isn't the former product self-released, and the latter on Sanctuary? (OK, Sanctuary is ceasing US operations this week. But it's not your job to pick up the slack for them, Epic people!)

Genuinely concerned,
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THIS MONTH IN ALTERNATIVE PRESS

(I write for AP every month, but I rarely see the printed magazine. This time, a copy fell onto my desk. So here goes.)

BURNING BRIDES
Hang Love (Modart)
Dimitri Coats is a total douche. He says things like, "If I died tomorrow, which I hope I don't, at least I know I have made what I feel is a great record. The kind of rock record you don't hear anymore. So I am free," with a straight face. Unfortunately, he's impossible to fully disdain, because while there's not much sonic originality on Burning Brides' third disc (ooh, a grungy power trio - how groundbreaking!), it's actually not the worst record I've heard this week. He's a decent guitarist; his wife Melanie's basslines support him adequately; and drummer Paul Beeman is the secret weapon, vying with the Melvins' god of thunder Dale Crover for heavy-footed rawk supremacy. Some tracks ("She Comes To Me") are a little too mid-'90s, but it's hard to deny the raw, skull-stomping power of the opening "Ring Around The Rosary," no matter how much Coats may be crying out for an ass-kicking.