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'm not sure of the exact moment when using the term "sell out" officially fell out of fashion in pop-music discourse. The most commonly regarded turning point away from deriding artists for openly chasing corporate dollars is probably Moby licensing every track off his album Play in 1999, and for obvious reasons it came out the same year Napster launched and the record industry's implosion commenced. "Selling" anything in a music context suddenly seemed like a Herculean task. But I remember people still occasionally using "sell out" after that. The last time I heard it was five years ago, and it was directed at Kings of Leon. You might remember that the Tennessee trad-rock outfit once had a reasonably hip reputation in the early '00s as a Strokes/CCR hybrid. KOL's first two albums were accompanied by a mythic backstory that involved the group's trio of brothers Caleb, Nathan, and Jared Followill being raised by a traveling Pentecostal preacher who forbade his boys to taste the sinful fruit of rock and roll. Defying the threat of eternal damnation, the brothers recruited their cousin Matthew to play guitar, invested in a closetful of impossibly tight jeans, and formed a hard-drinking and hip-swinging rock group. That's what the PR said, anyway it was the kind of tale that is used to establish a band's "realness" in the media, and it actually sort of worked for a while. "Kings of Leon are two-door muscle cars and Piggly Wigglies and racist uncles and upholstery that stinks of smoke," the novelist Dave Eggers wrote of the band's musky 2003 debut, Youth & Young Manhood, and I'm pretty sure he meant it as a compliment. Then Kings of Leon released their fourth record, 2008's Only by the Night, and its career changed forever.1 The band essentially clarified its sound and appearance on Night: The music was

pared down to a few core essentials (namely Matthew's soaring Skynyrd-goes-U2 riffs and Caleb's lobotomized Randy Newman impersonation), and then those essentials were amplified to the point of inescapable bombast. Imagewise, the Followills cut their hair and shaved off the Russell Hammond mustaches so that their handsome mugs could finally smolder at peak temperature. The backwoods iconography of the first two records was now gone. To borrow an acclaimed writer's metaphor, it was as if the racist uncles had been escorted out the back door and replaced with fashion models.2 Kings of Leon now conformed to an archetype that had been rendered virtually extinct since the end of the hair metal era: the rock himbo. At a time when most rock bands scarcely even reference carnality let alone tease their facial stubble to just the right level of scruffiness Kings of Leon set themselves apart by making sex the focal point of their appeal, and then setting that sex on fire! In its aversion to indefinite pronouns, the hit power ballad "Use Somebody" was typical of Kings of Leon's new songwriting style; a line like "I could use somebody / someone like you" can mean everything or absolutely nothing depending on the listener. Whether it was universal or just generic, Only by the Night was inarguably successful, moving more than 6 million units worldwide. (Those are practically Black Album numbers when adjusted to early 21st-century record industry standards.) Many fans of Youth & Young Manhood and 2005's Aha Shake Heartbreak felt stung. Kings of Leon appeared to have chucked their "true" identity in favor of cynically churning out an unlikely and yet highly commercial composite of Coldplay and Cracker Barrel. The follow-up to Night, 2010's Come Around Sundown, was even more overblown in the video for "Radioactive," Kings of Leon embrace members of an African American children's choir like homecoming messiahs, emitting the sickly, saintly glow that signals deathly levels of Rattle and Humlike hubris. But those who yearned for the "old" Kings of Leon were clinging to a

false premise that what a band is on its debut is who it really is. The reality is that Kings of Leon needed to make several records to find their identity ultimately, this was always a band that believed making a music video with a kiddie choir was a good idea; it just didn't know it right away. With Mechanical Bull, the band's sixth album, Kings of Leon have finally reached their potential. They are now, without question, the world's top idiot rock band.

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understand that classifying Kings of Leon as "the world's top idiot rock band" might strike some as an insult. Let me explain: I do not believe that the Followills collectively have the intelligence of a 3-year-old child, nor would I say the same about those who enjoy Mechanical Bull. (I'm one of those people who enjoy Mechanical Bull, particularly the sub-mental parts.) I'm only trying to illustrate the level on which Mechanical Bull most effectively communicates with the listener. Kings of Leon are neither interested in being, nor equipped to be, intellectually engaging. If this record had a brain, it would look like one of those Homer Simpson thought bubbles where a sleeping donkey is swarmed by flies. If this record had a crotch, it would be perpetually thrusting with the power of that same donkey being shot out of a cannon and into the back cab of a monster truck blasting Side 1 of ZZ Top's Fandango! This stupendously titled album opens with an even more stupendously titled song called "Supersoaker," which has a clanging, revved-up guitar lick that comes closest to the band's promise of delivering a "back to basics" record. It's one of Bull's best songs and it features the record's most awesomely terrible lyrics quite an achievement considering the stiff competition.

A vaguely patriotic slice of Americana that references flags flyin' across the plains and livin' "down in the delta," "Supersoaker" is expertly sold by Caleb Followill, who lacquers the song's cornball Dadaist nonsense in a caramelized enunciation-optional growl. "'Cause I'm a supersoaker red, white, and blew 'em all away / with the kisses unclean as the words that you say," he sings confidently if not quizzically not since Noel Gallagher during Oasis's mid-'90s prime3 has a rock lyricist approached coherence with such cocksure indifference. Later, Kings of Leon revisit the "I want this thing cuz this thing I want is a thing I want" style of songwriting perfected on "Use Somebody" on the splendidly dunderheaded "Rock City," where Caleb sings, "I've been several miles and plenty more / and I found myself face-first on the floor / searching for something / but never finding something." If that reads like gobbledygook, wait until you hear it sung. At the risk of sounding like a Kings of Leon song, I'd argue that the hardest-rocking tracks on Mechanical Bull work the best because they're based on a template that has been proven time and again to work the best. You can merely laugh at the Mouse Rats of the world if you choose, but when Li'l Sebastian is struck by an untimely tragedy, a chest-beating Mouse Rat anthem is precisely what's needed to send him off in appropriately majestic fashion. Similarly, when I listen to "Temple" which is about how Caleb Followill would take a bullet to the head from somebody for love because he loves some other somebody just that much my brain tells me to make fun of it as a reject from Andy Dwyer's song pile. But other parts of my body override my brain and tell me to turn it the fuck up already. The same goes for the zippy-dippy "Don't Matter," which Nathan Followill admitted to Rolling Stone was written in 15 minutes 10 of which I'm guessing was spent trying to locate the last case of Red Bull in the band's coffers.

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f Mechanical Bull had 12 songs as durrr-brilliant as "Temple" and "Don't Matter," I would have it welded into my car stereo with the volume knob permanently fixed at 27. Unfortunately, along with being the "return to rock" record, Mechanical Bull is also the "atonement" record. Bull arrives after an embarrassing (and well-publicized) onstage mishap in Dallas that led to the cancellation of shows in support of Come Around Sundown in 2011. For a while there, it looked like the band might be finished or at least too drunk to ever finish another tour, much less an album. Now all's supposedly well in the Kings of Leon camp, Caleb Followill's refusal to go to rehab notwithstanding. The redemption narrative is not subtle on Mechanical Bull after all, you know what they say about automated livestock and the best course of action should you fail to stay perched upon it. It's also spelled out in the song titles: "On the Chin," "Wait for Me," "Comeback Story," "Coming Back Again." Along with acknowledging past mistakes, Kings of Leon also had to shore up their commercial prospects after Sundown failed to produce another "Use Somebody." The big swing on Mechanical Bull in this regard is "Beautiful War," which Caleb claims was written the same weekend as "Use Somebody" several years ago. Let's just say it's readily apparent why the other song was released right away while the limp "Beautiful War" sat on the shelf. Better is "Comeback Story," one of several tracks on Mechanical Bull to exhibit a pop-country influence which might not be a terrible direction for the Kings to pursue going forward should Mechanical Bull underperform. (Mechanical Bull is a pretty stellar country-rock album title.) More plaintive than Kings of Leon usually allow themselves to be, "Comeback Story" also offers up a weird taunt in the chorus: "I walk a mile in your shoes

/ and now I'm a mile away / and I've got your shoes." Wait, is this supposed to be a metaphor for empathy or did this guy just steal my kicks? As with all things Kings of Leon, thinking too hard is discouraged. http://www.grantland.com/story/_/id/9712781/kings-leonreturn-mechanical-bull Review of Mechanical Bull by Kings of Leon. Written by Steve Hyden on Grantland.com. -Steve goes into great depth about certain songs he particularly liked or disliked on the album. His greatest strength is explaining the feel of the album. What emotions or reactions it draws out of him. He doesnt highlight every song, which may hurt the overall review, but I feel this is a good way to go. This is by far one of the longer reviews I have seen for an album ____________________________________________ After years of label purgatory with coke-rap menaces Clipse and a string of mixtapes for Kanye West's G.O.O.D. imprint, Pusha T finally gets his solo debut. He's still a witty, quietly vicious rapper, capable of tearing apart spare street tracks like "Nosetalgia" and "Numbers on the Board" while barely raising his voice. But set in the more commercial contexts of Kelly Rowland features and the-Dream's fluorescent R&B, he can sound like a fish out of some pretty expensive water. The album title a nod to The Wire's Marlo Stanfield is assertive, but ironically it goes in circles. Who Pusha was is gone, but who he is is still sometimes unclear.

Read more: http://www.rollingstone.com/music/albumreviews/my-name-ismy-name-20131004#ixzz2miXTlMtP Follow us: @rollingstone on Twitter | RollingStone on Facebook This is a review by Mike Powell on My Name is My Name by Pusha T. This is a considerably short review that doesnt allow for much in depth analysis of the

album. He tries to assert his idea of the artistic vision and what the artists future looks like from here. He mentions tracks that he finds interesting, but doesnt string you along to know more about the full album. I think if he went further into the songs, it would be a more effective review.

Arcade Fire has been touted as Generation Y's answer to U2, and ever since their 2004 debut "Funeral" tipped off indie rock to strings, sweeping musical arrangements and wholly relatable anthems, it seems they've been aspiring to make a statement like "Reflektor." On its fourth studio album, the Arcade Fire members sound as if they're claiming their destiny of becoming the world's most wholeheartedly ambitious rock band. Their last album, 2010's "The Suburbs," shockingly captured the Grammy for Album of the Year, so with the music industry finally on full alert, it's really no surprise Arcade Fire have set the bar so high for themselves on its follow-up. Dramatic, overarching themes dominate "Reflektor." One is the Greek myth of Orpheus, the master musician whose tragic, human flaws kept him from saving his love, Eurydice (portrayed in the album artwork). Another is the Caribbean island nation of Haiti, from which band member Regine Chassagne's parents fled during a harsh dictatorship. Chassagne's husband, frontman Win Butler, spoke of life-altering experiences in Haiti during the album's creation, and Haitian musicians contributed to the sessions. Another guest, ex-LCD Soundsystem mastermind James Murphy, lends his expert hand to "Reflektor's" production, and though his presence is felt, it isn't overwhelming. This is still an Arcade Fire album through and through -- just injected with heavy dance grooves, so that it sounds like a new-millennium response to the Talking Heads' landmark, Brian Enoproduced album, "Remain In Light." Live Report: Arcade Fire's Intimate Brooklyn Halloween Party Clocking in at an hour and twenty-five minutes, "Reflektor" drags in parts, though it contains plenty of moments (most often in its uptempo, dynamic first half) that sound ready to breathe life into the middling state of commercial rock in 2013. Let Billboard guide you track-by-track through this indispensible release from one of the

genre's most beloved bands. 1. Reflektor Production from James Murphy, backing vocals from David Bowie... what could go wrong? Not very much, it turns out, as "Reflektor" is a heroic, majestic opening to the album of the same name. The track takes the sped-up, groove-centric percussion Murphy is known for, and goes one better by employing help from Haitian percussionists Willinson Duprate and Verrieux Zile to take it to an even higher rhythmic level. Butler and Chassagne share in the song's anthemic chorus: "I thought I found a way to enter; it was just a reflector." 2. "We Exist" - The impenetrable rhythm keeps going on "We Exist," as the song struts in with a slick, "Billie Jean"-inspired bass groove. Once the guitars and percussion take over, the already punchy second song soars to new heights. 3. "Flashbulb Eyes" - With plenty of expert musicians in the studio, this one is a clinic on how to execute an intricately multi-tracked song to auditory perfection. The reggae-rock track reels in the listener immediately, and the xylophone that sneaks into the chorus subtly takes the song to the next level. 4. "Here Comes the Night Time" - With all the kinetic energy in "Reflektor's" first three tracks, the mid-tempo"Here Comes the Night Time" dials down the assault in the nick of time -- just don't underestimate the turn-on-a-dime time change Arcade Fire pulls off near the song's end. Lyrically, the song deals with Butler's transformative experiences in Haiti. According to the singer, it was inspired by the desperate plight of refugees fleeing for the United States in boats, and the resistance they received from from the authorities. 5. "Normal Person" - This track reminds us that Arcade Fire can be a rock band when the situation calls for it. There's a little bit of a past Arcade Fire muse -- Bruce Springsteen -- evident in the verses, with their jaunty tempo and piano strokes.

6. "You Already Know" - Another winning track supported by a bed of percussion tools, "You Already Know" takes some bass guitar scales and builds a shimmering rock song on top of them. A song like this is a clear link between the new directions of "Reflektor" and the more traditional Arcade Fire material on 2010's "The Suburbs." 7. "Joan of Arc" - Arcade Fire closes out the first movement of "Reflektor" in stirring fashion. A frantic, punk-inspired opening quickly morphs into another bass groove that explodes into an arena-worthy chorus and an ode to the historical heroine. Arcade Fire are sometimes likened to U2, and a mammoth song like this makes the comparison sound believable. As it fades out, "Joan of Arc" is followed by over 10 minutes of noise, that ranges from total silence to whirring electronics to reprisals of earlier songs. 8. "Here Comes the Night Time II" - Finally, Butler's voice returns, and he whispers, "Here comes the night time," to open the second movement of "Reflektor." He says little else on this tepid transitional song, which largely serves to link the two halves together. 9. "Awful Sound (Oh, Eurydice)" - "I know there's a way we can make them pay," Butler sings on this hopeful, defiant track that sprawls out across "Reflektor's" midsection. There's definite beauty to be found in its lush expanse, but for the first time, the album starts to lag after nearly twenty consecutive minutes of downtempo lull. 10. "It's Never Over (Oh Orpheus)" - After name-checking his deceased girlfriend in the previous track, Arcade Fire come searching for the mythic Greek musician. Like the "Reflektor" album in a microcosm, this song contains both triumphant swells and moments of delicate near-silence. 11. "Porno" - With its synthetic beats and consistent synthesizer squawks, "Porno" sounds like a track from producer James Murphy's DFA Records more than anything else on "Reflektor." There's even stabs of disco-y strings that sound like something from Hercules and Love Affair's work for the label. If one was looking for disco-era

nostalgia on the album, here it is. 12. "Afterlife" A track that premiered on the "SNL" season opener, "Afterlife" sounds ready to become a staple in the band's live set. Here, Butler deals with themes of fighting and making up among propulsive drumbeats and more groovy synthesizers. 13. "Supersymmetry" - A pensive, reflective track closes out "Reflektor," with Butler and Chassagne harmonizing over one of its simplest arrangements.
http://www.billboard.com/articles/review/5770596/arcade-fire-reflektor-trackby-track-review This is a review of Arcade Fires Reflektor by Chris Payne. In this review, it is kind of a hybrid of the first two. The critic explains how he feels from each track, but doesnt fall as far in depth as the first. I think he properly sums up his emotions about the track and also tries to go inside the mind of the artist. What is really different here is that there is a blurb for every single song. It seems to drag and might not make sense for each song, but it is nice to see something for every track. List of things that should be in my review: 1. 2. 3. 4. Feel of the album Review of specific tracks The point that the artist is trying to convey. What I think of some songs.