Ima Robot

Ima Robot

(Virgin)

It should come as no surprise that Ima Robot’s debut has a distinct time-machine flavor—their bassist and drummer spent the last decade backing Beck as he danced slipshod through 40 years of popular music. Whether mugging as Prince’s band or channeling Os Mutantes and Nick Drake with dead-straight faces, the two helped breathe new life into seemingly incompatible tropes.

Here the grave-robbing limits itself to a single era, the early 80s and the peak of new wave. But without Beck’s consistent songwriting behind Ima Robot, the results are far more mixed. The band’s revival of choice is not as fresh as it might have been four or five years ago. By now, The Rapture and their fellow hipsters have pilfered the 80s in much more innovative ways, with considerably more sincerity. Hysterical, high-pitched vocals, stinging guitar lines and echoing Duran Duran synths are old hats in late 2003.

But no matter how tired their schtick looks on paper, the band does have a knack for turning out energetic, compulsively danceable numbers. For all Ima Robot’s gimmickry, there’s a desperation to “Scream” and a coked-out lunacy to “Song #1” that make you forget that these Reaganomic moves have already been mimed by every “dance-punk” troupe this side of Park Slope.

Ima Robot’s emphasis on style over substance produces a handful of nearly unlistenable missteps, sunk by empty lyrics and flat, repetitive song structures. But the high points of the 39-minute spree suggest that if these professional impostors learn a few new tricks, their expiration date might be extended a while longer yet. —Simon W. Vozick-Levinson

Sir Mix-A-Lot

Daddy’s Home

(Rhyme Cartel)

Clad in a fur coat with his brim tilted, Sir Mix-a-lot returns to the rap scene with a bold statement. Without question his single “Baby Got Back” remains a party favorite, but is the rap game prepared for this Seattle rapper’s grand re-entrance?

Mix was once famous for getting many a party started, and the veteran rapper and producer spends much of Daddy’s Home proclaiming himself a hip-hop messiah. On the title track he impeaches the skill and street cred of today’s rappers: “Baller crowns are earned / they’re never bought / Nowadays you got cats who will rent a look / rent a pimp, rent some big booty hoes for your video.” But Mix’s lack of lyrical dexterity won’t leave many shuddering.

Renowned producer Timbaland might have been the person who coaxed this self-proclaimed pimp out of the music industry’s one-hit wonder dumping ground. Tracks such as “Candy” and “Party Ova Here” poorly imitate the musical heavyweight’s signature irregular beats, forcing us to wonder why Sir Mix-a-lot should ever have been liberated from that quagmire.

Daddy’s Home could easily serve as a Saturday Night Live parody of modern hip-hop. Though the messiah fails to deliver us from the sinful and tiresome world of flashy cars and hollow lyrics, his caricature only accentuates these absurdities. What’s more, his own glorification of pimps and hoes is hardly removed from today’s most popular rap songs. At best, Mix’s comeback will give rappers cause for introspection and change as they see themselves through his lens. —Cassandra Cummings

Death Cab for Cutie