• bob dylan

    Review: Bob Dylan Teaches Sinatra to Sing on the Rustling 'Shadows in the Night'

    "I left all my dreams and hopes," Bob Dylan, longing to be a carol singer, once sang in his ravaged cadence, "buried under tobacco leaves." These days almost everyone knows that saying "Dylan can't sing" is a category error — just listen again to that "It balances on your head just like a mattress balances on a bottle of wine" line; draw a diagram if you have to — but even the most devoted attendants to His Dylanness could be forgiven for doubting that his current tar-cloaked mutter would make the best fit for an albumful of Frank Sinatra signatures.Phrasing-wise, the two singers are neck-and-neck, but no version of the oft-revised Dylan Voice has come close to the seamless ribbon of Sinatra's croon.

  • SPIN Album of the Week: Ghostface Killah's '36 Seasons' Is Faster Than a Speeding Bullet

    SPIN Album of the Week: Ghostface Killah's '36 Seasons' Is Faster Than a Speeding Bullet

    About halfway through 36 Seasons, Ghostface Killah gets his face burned off in a crack lab explosion ("Threw him twenty feet in the air," associate Shawn Wigs swears) and enlists an "exquisite doctor," Dr. X, to build him a new one. This is just about as far into comic-book fantasy as Wu-Tang's most alert realist has gone in 18 years of calling himself Tony Starks; on 2007's The Big Doe Rehab, a similarly sudden moment of violence only made him throw up in a friend's car.But the 40-minute world inhabited by this unusually literal superhero (or supervillain: Ghost's always been an Iron Man guy, but here his bubbling skin recalls the Harvey Dent that Billy Dee Williams was never allowed to reprise) isn't fantastic at all.

  • tv on the radio, seeds, review

    Review: TV on the Radio Make Like Happy Idiots on the Breezy 'Seeds'

    From here, it looks like TV on the Radio's career pivoted the moment Kyp Malone growled, "Fuck your war / Because I'm fat and in love and no bombs are falling on me for sure," on 2008's Dear Science. Five albums in, this feeling — vulgar love as impregnable shield against the deadly bluster of power — has become the band's heart. Once, their fuzz and throb sounded menacing; even when triumphant bliss was their agenda, the triumph is in staying heard and staying strong, amid a queasy swirl of static.

  • Fucked Up Become Their Own Black Hole on the Impossibly Dense 'Glass Boys'

    Fucked Up Become Their Own Black Hole on the Impossibly Dense 'Glass Boys'

    Fucked Up's first compilation was called Epics in Minutes, and even when their epics got longer -- from 2008's The Chemistry of Common Life forward – their great quality remained their density. Their ambition swelled, but their palette stayed small; they crammed intricate melodrama into their songs without conscripting orchestras or narrators.

  • Jim Adkins (foreground), World (background, partial view) / Photo by Simone Joyner/Getty

    Jimmy Eat World, 'Damage' (RCA)

    What you used Jimmy Eat World for around their peak (Bleed American, 2001) was to psych yourself up, if you were the kind of person who got psyched up with words. Songs like "A Praise Chorus" and "The Middle" were buffets of encouraging platitudes, set on a bed of crunchy, twisting guitars and seasoned with punk outbursts; and they sounded best in the car, before you'd actually reached the girl's house. Damage, the band's eighth album — and its shortest and simplest since that halcyon time — wants to do the same for you now: to wrap optimistic truths about adult romance around twinkling, fastidious melodies, and make you feel a little better about all the girls' houses you've reached since.It has good songs, too: the chiming title track; the restless, circling "Lean"; "No, Never," which has the best melody (and the best chugging rhythm guitar).

  • Paramore / Photo by Pamela Littky

    Paramore, 'Paramore' (Fueled by Ramen)

    "Misery Business," Paramore's highest-charting hit, was an odd thing — a song that spent half its time gloating and the other half apologizing. The crowning hook, after the narrator has won a boy from her rival, goes, "Oh, I never meant to brag / But God, it just feels so good." The "but" there is the most important thing about Paramore, aside from the way singer Hayley Williams inflates herself with joy on the words "so good." Few bands get such a rush from self-doubt — not the social or sexual insecurity that's been rock's fertilizer from the beginning, but real original-sin-style doubt, doubt about whether you are even an okay person. Williams sings about boyfriend-stealing and the "skeleton in me" and has one-sided conversations with people we can't hear who think her band's personal problems are her fault.

  • Deftones

    Deftones, 'Koi No Yokan' (Reprise)

    The respect denied so many '90s rock perennials persists for Deftones for two reasons. First, despite being an alleged nü-metal band, they could be really sexy. (We'll come back to that.) Second, they've typically decorated their slightly grungy and very slightly punky aesthetic with tasteful bells and whistles: a synth here, some programmed drums there, a song called "Digital Bath" with a lot of empty space in it. Koi No Yokan, their seventh album, doesn't contain much of that kind of thing at all, nor does it contain the band's best work.

  • No diggity, No Doubt

    No Doubt, 'Push and Shove' (Interscope)

    No Doubt were, and are, a party band. In the 1990s, there was some confused suspicion that they might be somewhat political, since Gwen Stefani did push-ups onstage and had a song where she sarcastically said she was just a girl and not to let her drive late at night.

  • Passion Pit, 'Gossamer' (Columbia)

    "Take a Walk," the first track and first single from Passion Pit's second album, Gossamer, is a grower — a thudding, crawling pop song that seems flatfooted at first, but with a little patience and attention, gradually yields a twisty, poignant wit. Given a lot of attention, though, something ungraspable and flimsy emerges about the narrative, whose most concrete feature is that it appears to keep referring to the economic recession (which is promising, since there's rarely been a subject so universally important given so little artistic attention), but stops nervously short of actually making sense. Sure, you can learn from helpful journalists that each verse narrates the American experience of a member of frontman Michael Angelakos' family, and once you know that, you can squint at the song and see how it works, or at least how it works for its author.

  • The Offspring, 'Days Go By' (Columbia)

    Because the Offspring, like all of us, daily draw nearer to death, their new album is clouded with nervous fear: the sound of four forty-ish Cali guys who took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up as the Offspring. This is a poignant, mortal sound, but unfortunately, it's also the sound of 12 more songs where the choruses are Brian "Dexter" Holland chanting laxly over muffled whoa-ohs. (This band has been whoa-oh-ing without cease for about 20 years now, long enough so that you can be sure they've had at least one conversation about it and decided it's a necessary feature.) Songs like "The Future Is Now" and "Secrets from the Underground" roaringly insist that their real story lies ahead, and that they have much yet to say. Raging against the dying of the light is a fine tradition, and you could probably find an expert who'd tell you that it's all art is.

00:00 00:00 No Song Selected More info
00:00 00:00
Now Playing
  • 1 Brandy Zdan — More of a Man " 03:33
  • 2 Tiësto & KSHMR — Secrets " 04:28
  • 3 Mercies — Every Echo " 00:00
  • 4 Jimmy Whispers — Heart Don't Know " 02:32
  • 5 GRiZ — For The Love " 04:41
  • 6 King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard — God Is in the Rhythm " 03:46
  • 7 FlatbushZOMBiES — Did U Ever Think feat. Joey BadA$$ & Issa Gold " 05:02

SPIN is a member of SPIN Music Group, a division of BUZZMEDIA