Longwave

The Strangest Things

RCA Records

It’s tempting to write off Longwave as yet another mediocre band benefiting from the success of fellow New Yorkers The Strokes. Although the two bands sound nothing alike, a tour supporting the garage rockers resulted in Longwave’s major label debut The Strangest Things. For all its arty Radiohead-esque guitar wavering and contemplative pop melodies, though, the new record is merely nice.

The band’s mellow guitar tone yields a somber mood, evoking a less interesting Interpol. But whereas Interpol glide effortlessly between peppy and solemn, these songs are rarely fun. Even the power-pop infused “Everywhere You Turn” and “All Sewn Up” feel tedious. The album’s low point, appropriately titled “Meet Me at the Bottom,” tries too hard to evoke feelings of uselessness. Perhaps the song does its job too well.

The Strangest Things retains its grave hum throughout. While cohesion is often a good thing, this album only seems wearisome. Nothing exciting happens as potential tensions in the music go unexplored.

Longwave manage a few memorable tracks. “Wake Me When It’s Over” pulls together dream-tinged guitars and Steve Schiltz’s soothing vocals for an affecting opener. “Tidal Wave,” the most fun song, sounds like it came right off of Idlewild’s delightful 100 Broken Windows. “Strangest Things” incorporates odd electronic sounds into a simple melody, creating a sweet ode to life’s little mysteries.

The Strangest Things is pleasant enough, even pretty. However, its tiring atmosphere renders it ultimately forgettable.

—Sarah L. Solorzano

Christian McBride

Vertical Vision

Warner

Judging from his sixth album, Christian McBride is still an unselfish artist. Although his ten years as a musician have earned him a reputation as one of the best young bassists in the jazz scene, McBride’s latest efforts highlights not only his own prowess, but that of his bandmates as well.

Indeed, the album’s strongest point, its freewheeling (but never chaotic) sound, is possible because the band members maintain their individuality so well. Each member of McBride’s band seems to do his own thing with the distinct understanding that they will eventually rejoin.

In “Tahitian Pearl,” Ron Blake’s saxophone converses with McBride’s electric bass until the two finally meet, yielding perhaps the album’s smoothest effort. “Lejos de Usted,” with its samba-influenced rhythm, is also unique for McBride’s bowed bassline, which complements a strong flute performance from Blake. Although the track’s spoken introduction seems extraneous, the interesting play of repetitions that follows more than compensates for it.

Album closer “Boogie Woogie Waltz” is the strongest point. Despite being a studio track, it’s surprisingly improvisatory—meandering for nine minutes and eventually shining.