An avalanche of the gay

Despite any issues I have with the gay press coverage of gay musicians, I have to say my playlist has been pretty queer as of late. You needn’t look further than my favorite albums of the year thus far.

And I have to say I’m enjoying these titles quite a lot. Pretty much all of them are by the men. At some point, I’m need to start listening to the ladies.

Adam Joseph, How I Seem to Be

Adam Joseph got lost in the shuffle of R&B artists featured on the Music with a Twist compilation, Revolutions. His contribution, "Flow with My Soul", was good, but it wasn’t remarkable. But in context of his 2003 debut album, How I Seem to Be, the track makes more sense. The album itself is incredibly crafted, a set of smooth, soulful songs tightly programmed to complement each other. It’s a kind of ambition not easily delivered, but Joseph makes it sound effortless.

Bob Mould, District Line

I’m only vaguely familiar with Bob Mould’s music, although his name has tremendous recognition. Body of Song was the first album of his I owned, and it’s a remarkably coherent album, despite its lengthy gestation. District Line didn’t leave as indelible a first impression as Body of Song, but after a few listens, the material feels just as tight. Mould throws in everything that interests him — hard rockers, acoustic numbers and that seamless mix of indie guitars and dance beats. Mould possesses an astonishing range as a songwriter, and he does an incredible job corralling all his styles into a whole.

Darren Hayes, This Delicate Thing We’ve Made

Nope, I never listened to Savage Garden, and I didn’t really pay much attention to Darren Hayes till after he came out. (I do have to say the cover of his debut solo, Spin, pinged my sorry-ass excuse for gaydar way back when.) This Delicate Thing We’ve Made is also a double album, usually an open invitation for artists to needlessly indulge. But Hayes pulls it off. Not a single track on This Delicate Thing We’ve Made feels unnecessary, and some of them sound downright ambitious. "How to Build a Time Machine" really borrows a lot from Kate Bush. For a pop album, it’s incredibly mature, and for a double album, it’s refreshingly focused.

Office, A Night at the Ritz

Q: What’s the difference between bands from the ’80s and bands from today that sound like bands from the ’80s?

A: Compression.

For a guy who grew up in the ’80s, I ought to be pleased with the current slate of bands who sound like the past, but there’s theft (genius) and there’s imitation (amateurism). Office come perilously close to the latter, employing all the usual post-New Order, post-Cure and post-Human League gestures so fashionable among ’80s revivalists. What they get right is the whimsical mix of disco beats and post-punk guitars with strong melodies. Yes, they sound like the ’80s, but they also feel like the ’80s. They don’t really inject anything unexpected or unlikely to their songs to grant them genius status, but such tracks as "Q&A", "The Big Bang Jump!" and "Possibilities" show they aren’t amateurs either.

The B-52’s, Funplex

Having Cosmic Thing serve as my first impression of the B-52’s is not advantageous. Everything else from the band is thus compared to what is arguably an anomaly in their oeuvre. I’m not sure what I expected from the B-52’s newest album in 16 years, but Funplex isn’t quite it.

Music mastermind Keith Strickland incorporates more electronics into the band’s sound, drawing bits and pieces from underground dance music without drastically remodeling the party atmosphere essential to the B-52’s. It doesn’t really add anything, except to place the band firmly in 2008. Rather, Strickland’s beefy guitar work feels buried and not by the electronics either. Even the divine harmonies of Kate Pierson and Cindy Wilson don’t exert the force they did previously.

For an album with the word "fun" in the title, it seems oddly drained of life. The band may very well be having a good time, but the updated sound dulls the effect. Another victim of the loudness war?

The Dead Betties, Nightmare Sequence

The Dead Betties, Fuck You, Avril, You’re In the Army Now

I’m glad Fuck You, Avril, You’re In the Army Now is available for free because Nightmare Sequence is available only as digital files with DRM. Major suck. The Dead Betties perform some snarling, noisy art-punk. If it’s any help, they’re compared to early Sonic Youth. Nightmare Sequence, released on Warner Brothers’ digital-only label Cordless, has more of a studio polish, but it doesn’t dull the brutal assault of the band’s manic music. It rather helps, actually. You’re in the Army Now, on the other hand, is much more experimental, incorporating lo-fi electronics with the fuzzy guitars. The title track is a surreal collage of Avril Lavigne soundbites. Think "Providence" off of Daydream Nation. Both albums make for some compelling listening, aggressive and unpredictable. I’m more partial to Nightmare Sequence for its more tuneful moments. The only thing missing are some high-fidelity backups (read: physical CD product.)

Other releases of note by gay or gay-inclusive artists: