‘First Love’
‘First Love’
Karina (Def Jam)
Grade: A
On “90’s Baby,” the opening track on the CD “First Love,” 17-year-old Karina sings, “Adjust your radios, I’m fin to school ya/Yeah I’m a youngin’ yo, but I’m about to move ya, promise.” And she delivers on her word on her exceptional debut.
The 11-track set features songs that other teens, and even those a little older, can relate to. From challenging stereotypes about male/female relationships (“Can U Handle It,” co-written by Ne-Yo) to brushing off haters (“Can’t Bring Me Down”) to the current single, “Can’t Find the Words,” about a love that words cannot describe, Karina’s voice adds vibrancy to the simple, basic themes of life.
The powerful first single, “16 War,” shows Karina’s maturity. Penned by Terius “The-Dream” Nash and Christopher “Tricky” Stewart, the team behind Rihanna’s “Umbrella” and Mariah Carey’s “Touch My Body,” Karina tackles issues such as peer pressure, materialism and jealously — adding a sense of seriousness that most of her peers lack.
The piano-driven “Slow Motion” is Karina at the top of her game, reminiscent of a young Alicia Keys or John Legend. She sings about not rushing love while hitting every smooth note — on the piano keys and on the mic.
—Mesfin Fekadu, Associated Press
‘How to Walk Away’
Juliana Hatfield (Ye Olde Records)
Grade: B+
Listening to Juliana Hatfield’s new album, “How to Walk Away,” is like reading the diary of that girlfriend you cruelly dumped, full of melancholy and a little bit of acid.
Hatfield’s 10th solo album marks her 20th year as a recording artist and coincides with the release of her autobiography, “When I Grow Up.” It’s as if we’ve watched her grow up in that time. She came onto the scene in the 1980s with Boston’s Blake Babies, a teen looking frail and sweet but tough as nails.
She morphed into Evan Dando’s “Drug Buddy” in the 1990s, an edgy 20-something with the voice of an angry fairy.
Two decades later, she’s more mature and self-assured, but more vulnerable on “How to Walk Away,” her first release since 2005’s “Made in China.”
In many ways, this confessional album parallels the emotions you feel after being dumped, alternating from depression to caustic bitterness.
Producer Andy Chase brings a lushness to “How to Walk Away,” with occasional piano and strings that deepen the emotional impact.
The best songs here are the ones in which Hatfield’s a little bit angry, like “Just Lust,” and its chorus that comes like a slap in the face: “It’s just lust/It doesn’t mean I love you.” Or the slamming door of “Now I’m Gone.”
Depression, a problem Hatfield struggled with even at her most successful, seeps into almost every song and it can be a bummer.
And though generally beautiful, it’s a hard album to listen to at times. But like Beck’s “Sea Change” or Bob Dylan’s “Tangled Up in Blue,” it’s worth wading into, especially if you’re heart’s been broken recently.
—Chris Talbott, Associated Press
‘Pro Tools’
GZA (Babygrande)
Grade: A
Don’t get it twisted — the title of GZA’s new CD, “Pro Tools,” is a nod to his microphone dexterity, not the industry leader in digital audio. Slinging “glorious slang” over stark beats that spotlight the Wu-Tang vet’s frigid flows, his fifth full-length continues to sharpen the shatterproof wordplay first introduced on “Words From The Genius.”
The whittled-down texture of lead cut “Pencil” exemplifies the verbal assault: “Direct order/ hit the border/ then slaughter/ horrific torture/ by prolific authors.” Masta Killa, a reputable MC in his own right, follows GZA but sounds trite in comparison.
On the 50 Cent-diss track “Paper Plate” he’s point-blank: “One verse will shatter your spine and crush your spirit/ No matter what you still window-shop for lyrics.” Fellow Wu-Tang founder RZA’s sparse production on the track makes it the album’s best, with digital chimes and an electric xylophone slinking above a minimal drum-clap.
Continuing the trend of earlier allegorically themed “Fame” (a celeb morality fable) and “Animal Planet” (the street as a jungle),“O% Finance” riffs off of cars with charged metaphors that will keep mental wheels “spinning like dark Bacardi.” “Choco” Reynoso’s chugging Krautrock pulse provides the perfect backdrop for the driven verses.
A number of songs such as “Path of Destruction” illustrate the struggle of the streets. “Short Race” unfurls like a season of “The Wire” with GZA detailing scenes that involve hidden track marks, juveniles facing life, ducked court dates and cribs sold for bail.
On “Alphabets,” hip-hop’s true master of letters aptly summarizes the simplicity behind this rap game when the mic is in the right hands: “All I need is a beat with a continuous loop.” The Genius will take care of the rest.
—Jake O’Connell, Associated Press
‘Meet Glen Campbell’
Glen Campbell (Capitol)
Grade: A
Perhaps it shouldn’t be a surprise that Glen Campbell, at age 72, would release a collection of songs as ambitious as this. Still, “Meet Glen Campbell” defies expectations.
The symphonic arrangements aren’t unexpected: After all, Campbell hits from “Wichita Lineman” to “Rhinestone Cowboy” featured big, majestic backing tracks.
But his choice of material is as unpredictable as can be. Campbell focuses on ballads written by hard rockers and alternative outcasts, putting his deceptively smooth voice to the Foo Fighters’ “Times Like These,” Green Day’s “Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life),” Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers’ “Walls” and “Angel Dream,” and the Replacements’ “Sadly Beautiful.”
These aren’t cheesy lounge renditions or tongue-in-cheek overstatements reminiscent of Tom Jones’ covers of dance hits. Much like Johnny Cash’s late-in-life work with producer Rick Rubin, these are serious recordings where Campbell locates the emotional thread in meaningful lyrics from those with different backgrounds than his.
The best cuts — his takes on Jackson Browne’s “These Days,” U2’s “All I Want Is You” and John Lennon’s “Grow Old With Me” — own a timeless beauty that bridges generations and cultures.
—Michael McCall, Associated Press
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