Shot through the heart
BoA
One Shot, Two Shot
SM Entertainment
SOUTH Korea’s first global popstar Kwon Bo-ah – known simply by the mononym BoA – makes a bold return to the scene with her first proper release in years. The record, her first mini album to date, comes 18 years after her debut in 2000.
Sonically though, One Shot, Two
Shot shows that the 31-year-old hasn’t lost touch on the charts’ latest pulse despite her long absence.
The opening title track is a sizzling number with electro-house elements. Despite starting off with rather slow beats, the verses soon give way to an addictive chorus. Meanwhile, tracks such as
Everybody Knows and Your Song display BoA’s musical evolution. The synth-laden Everybody Knows is a low-key spacey cut that highlights the Guri native’s distinct vocals over gossamer melodies.
And over on Your Song ,BoA enlists the help of Korean-American rapper Junoflo to imbue some hip hop cred on an experimental effort.
Elsewhere, the bright Nega Dola fails to impress despite its cheeky message and playful vibe. BoA does better on songs with a seductive template, something that she delivers on the EDM- heavy closing track Camo.
If anything, One Shot, Two Shot shows that BoA – despite her seasoned status – can still play with the new kids in town.
Jack White
Boarding House Reach
Third Man
FOR his third solo album, Jack White, the mad scientist of rock, got out of his comfort zone. Mind you, his comfort zone would make a lot of musicians go insane.
White recorded in New York and Los Angeles for the first time and sought out musicians he hadn’t worked with before – some he hadn’t ever even met. Then he listened to what happened.
Boarding House Reach is the result and it’s thrilling stuff, but more than a little disorienting. White’s trademark yowl and fuzzy guitar are firmly in place but then, suddenly, there might be a conga drum solo. Or a synth riff. Or a face-melting distorted chorus. You quickly get the sense that this is what the inside of Jack White’s head sounds like.
The 13-track Frankenstein-like album doesn’t always work, but when it does, it’s like a jolt of electricity, mixing hip-hop, gospel, blues, country and hard rock. “Forgive me and save me from myself,” White warns us in one lyric.
The successes include the funky, hard-rocking tunes Over And Over And Over and Corporation. Ice Station Zebra is brilliant, but in a bizarre way. Many of the album’s best moments are drum-led, extended propulsive riffs, like on Respect Commander.
White’s collaborators include drummer Louis Cato, bassists Charlotte Kemp Muhl and Neon Phoenix, and keyboardists Neal Evans and Quincy McCrary. They’ve helped him make the weirdest album of his career. The lyrics are as oddball as the music, going from quoting the baby book Goodnight Moon to name-checking Italian luxury carmaker Isotta Fraschini.
Some of the experiments should probably have been left for some future box set of outtakes dedicated to crazed White fans, including Abulia And Akrasia, in which singer-songwriter C.W. Stoneking adds silly spoken-word verses. Get In The Mind Shaft is clumsy, albeit fascinating.
There’s a good song somewhere in Hypermisophoniac but it’s drowned out by about three others. There’s really no song in Everything You’ve Ever Learned and Ezmerelda Steals The Show is, as one line goes, “totally absurd”.
White dips into country on What’s Done Is Done, but it seems more like he’s mocking the genre this time. He swipes melody from Antonin Dvorak for the final tune, Humoresque, as if classical music was one more thing he wanted to mess with.
God bless, Jack White. And also save us from him, too.
The Decemberists
I’ll Be Your Girl
Universal
WHEN bands talk about shaking things up – the way The Decemberists did to announce their new album I’ll Be Your Girl – it’s usually bad news.
However, Colin Meloy and friends don’t fall into the expected trap of not taking enough chances to make the shake-up sound good. Actually, the New Order synth-pop of the first single Severed is right on target, as is the fuzzed-out glam rock of We All Die Young, which sounds like it could be the sequel to Spirit In The Sky. And the playful Everything Is Awful, with its mix of sweetness and bash-it-out rage, feels like it could be an anthem for 2018.
The problem on I’ll Be Your Girl is that the more traditional-sounding Decemberists songs seem to be lacking. Suddenly, the archaic phrasing of Cutting Stone sounds even more gimmicky when paired with synthesizer runs. The galloping Your Ghost feels half-finished, especially when compared to the gorgeous Sucker’s Prayer, which conjures up the band at its best.
Maybe The Decemberists should let go of their own brand of Americana and chase the new influences they seem to find so interesting.