Richard X Presents
His X-Factor Vol. 1
Richard X

If pop music history was some big shiny supermarket, producer Richard X would have maxed-out his credit card in the 1980s aisle loading up his cart with old R&B and synthpop tunes which he recycles like some pop-addled Dr. Frankenstein, stitching together their dead flesh to create new life. In case you're not hip to the latest lingo, he produces what the young folk call a "mashup" where different tracks are cut-and-pasted together and in the process often completely re-imagined. In his hands Tubeway Army's icy "Are Friends Electric?" becomes a brilliant and sexy electro-soul anthem with the addition of UK teenypoppers The Sugababes singing "Freak Like Me" over it, and if you've ever wondered what The Human League would sound like if Chaka Khan was their lead singer (as you do) you sort of have your answer with "Being Nobody" where a cover of "Ain't Nobody" is spliced onto the robotic beat of "Being Boiled" – and what it sounds like is pretty bloody marvelous. The use of stand-in vocalists makes the album seem like some all-star karaoke party with Kelis, Jarvis Cocker, and Caron Wheeler lending their tonsils while Mr. X throws The SOS Band, Mazzy Star, Spandau Ballet and more Human League (I guess he got a bulk discount on their back catalogue) into the mix. Part of the fun of mashups is the chalk and cheese combinations (Beyonce+Jimi Hendrix and Madonna+The Sex Pistols to name two examples) but by focusing on the 80s Richard X has created a mashup record that's more than just some wacky and iconoclastic joke but actually works as a terrific album in it's own right and is a reminder that, apart from the embarrassing haircuts, the 80s were a hell of a great time for pop music. Cleverer reviewers than me will throw around big words they learned in college like "Deconstructionist" and "Postmodernism" to describe this record, but at the end of the day it's how your ears and feet respond that matter and as Jacques Derrida once said, "Let's boogie!" [Official Site]

Dreamer's Book
Mascott

One of my favorite recent movie moments is in "The Royal Tennenbaums" when sad-eyed Gwyneth Paltrow steps from a bus looking like some bohemian angel and walks toward the camera in slow-motion to the plaintive strains of "These Days" by Nico. It's a beautiful little scene that makes you stop stuffing your face with popcorn for almost a whole second as you take in the loveliness of it, but if Wes Andersen were looking for another tune with the same sort of fragile melancholy, and maybe a voice that was more Audrey Hepburn than Marlene Dietrich, then a lot of songs on the graceful "Dreamer's Book" would fit the mood perfectly. Mascott is the nom de plume of New York singer-songwriter Kendall Jane Meade and this is her first album since the near-perfect "Follow The Sound" three years ago, like it's predecessor it mixes an intimate coffee-bar folkiness with dreamy pop gloss and is so wonderful you’ll forgive her for taking so bloody long. Apart from upbeat moments like the windswept "Song For A Dream" and the jangly "Turn Off/Turn On" it's mostly a very quiet and shy record, the sort that would rather stay in and read (or watch a cute indie movie) than go out clubbing on a Saturday night, brimming with delicate melodies like "Bluebirds In Heaven" and "Kite" that are so gorgeous they could make even Chris Farley stepping off a bus look transcendent. A large part of this record's appeal is Kendall herself and the sound of her angelic voice which is so charming she could sell your ears the Brooklyn Bridge, she's the sort of girl who sends bookish indie boys into a love struck tizzy and her elegant folk-pop songs ache with a wide-eyed and vulnerable romanticism that should appeal to all those of a Holden Caulfield persuasion. [Official Site]

Body Language
Kylie Minogue

While her pop diva sisters were busy blurring the line between "clothed" and "naked" and attempting to shock with displays of faux-lesbianism that shocked no one apart from your Grandmother, Kylie went against the slutty tide when she announced last year that she would no longer be showing off her famously-pert bottom which had become so iconic it was like Keith Richards declaring he'd no longer be seen with a fag hanging from his lower lip. "Body Language" is a bit of a shocker too, gone is the frantic disco pumping of "Fever" in favor of highly-processed electropop and slick modern R&B, there are even parts that – gasp! – you can't dance to at all. At first listen I thought that, like Samson without his hair, the new bottom-less Kylie had lost her mojo, even an American Idol winner would think R&B-Lite tunes like "After Dark" and "Obsession" were too generic but thankfully the album has enough shiny treats to make up for its occasional dud. The minimalist Kraftwerk-y single "Slow" doesn't appear to have anything approaching a tune until you suddenly find that you can't get it out of your head (pun intended) and "Someday" is a wonderful, loping downtempo duet with Scritti Politti's Green Gartside. The 80s are all over the album like a cheap Armani suit, it comes loaded with snappy synth beats, references to Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam and Dead or Alive and glittery pop-funk romps like "Still Standing" and "Sweet Music" which sound like the sort of thing Prince would have dashed off for Sheila E or Wendy & Lisa during his lunchbreak. While her last two albums hit you over the head like giant handbags with their nonstop Eurodisco beats "Body Language" is a bit of a slow burner with more varied charms but it shows that there are better ways to make a splash than sapphic snogging or baring your bottom – it's all about the music, man. Though if this doesn't sell expect her bottom to be brought out of retirement very soon. [Official Site]

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