That 'p' word is arguably false advertising — most of this stuff is fairly conventional South American salsa or cumbian dance music, just with some fuzzed-out guitar. Doesn't mean you won't still dance like hell to it.
Talented Colorado bluesman once again overrates his voice and underrates his instrumental texturing. To say that the depth of lyrical commentary here centers on the treatment of Native Americans only extends to the cover photo would be wrong, but it's depressingly not far off.
This young Bay Area soul combo recorded an hour's worth of material in the early '70s, none of which have been available on CD until now. Nothing mind-blowing, but anything that gives us a fuller picture of funk's evolution is most welcome.
The first two albums by the Portuguese guitar maestro -- and maestro of the Portuguese guitar -- are re-issued by Drag City. If Vivaldi ever created anything this hauntingly, violently sensual, he kept it to himself.
Moncrief helped produce the Dirty Projectors' Bitte Orca, but on his debut album he generally gives a less-melodic, more emotionally neutral take on Grizzly Bear. Cohesive it ain't, but some of the archness is transient enough to make for an engaging catch-yourself record. Good Halloween listen.
2011's Spector re-packaging continues with 35 songs of varying profundity, most of which will turn 50 in the next couple of years if they haven't already. Whatever. To the kids, it'll all sound like West Side Story anyway.
The idiosyncratic Herbert completes his "One" trilogy with an album charting the life of a pig. Occasionally clinical but never gimmicky or exploitative, it's a thoughtful examination of our own consumption at a time when consumption has become something of a pivotal issue. Eccentrics rejoice!
The Texan synth-popper follows his playful 2009 debut with an album that has little time for play...or for hooks, melody, or discernible emotion. Well-assembled, though. (Note: review does not contain the phrase 'chillwave.')