Today's featured shit

This is a fun toned-down rockabilly album. Mad Tea Party feature ukulele and good times on “Found a Reason.” “I Never Was a Cool One” is a fun track, although on iTunes you may see it listed as “I Was Never a Cool One.” No matter what you want to call it, dig the lyrics.

“Waltz of Despair” reminds me of Neko Case, specifically her song “Jettison.” We all need more waltzes in life. The title track has a ’60s Mamas and Papas feel to it. “Blues Slip In” has nice poppy backing vocals. It also does a good job as the first track, because it gives a general overview of what the rest of the album will sound like.

“Bombs” is a good choice if you want to hear Jason Krekel instead of Ami Worthen, who is a capable singer and ukeslinger but could stand to benefit from learning how to spell her first name correctly.

Speaking of Worthen, “I Went Out” is Mad Tea Party at their best. Worthen sings with confidence, and the backing harmonies make for a good time.

Nothing really distinguishes Future Clouds and Radar from anything else out these days. The music reminds me of Hootie and the Blowfish, although the singing is much better. “Old Edmund Ruffin” must be about 30, because it makes me think of The Wallflowers. There’s definitely a lot trapped in the ’90s on “Peoria.”

The piano on “Feet on Grass” and Beatles-inspired singing definitely make this one of the better tracks on the album. “Eighteen Months” introduces horns but not much else. “The Mortal” is good for fans of Morrissey’s music but not his singing. This track could be on “Vauxhall and I.” Maybe it’s a cover.

“Mortal 926” has a more gothic feel and is my favorite track. It also has no lyrics. If the entire album sounded like this, no one would care about the stupid economy. It slowly builds to a substantial treat for the ears. It could even be used on one of those ’80s cop shows, like “Magnum, She Wrote” or “Hill Street Vice.”

“Follow the Crane” picks up the rear and is an unassuming end to an unassuming album. There’s really nothing wrong with this album, but not much goes “whiz bang” either. Maybe you have to be drunk first.

Holy crap Peachcake sound exactly like Ming & Ping. Is it becoming a genre? That would rule. This is synthy post-modern ’80s-style Depeche Mode on crack. One listen is all you need. There’s no selling here. You’ll either like it, or you won’t.

This band shares another trendy trait, this one with Fall Out Boy. The tracks are all many words long. One example is “Did I Just Do That, or Was It Jim Carrey?” My favorite title is “Stop Acting Like You Know More About the Internet Cafe Than Me.”

“Make Movement, Not War” could have been the next logical step after Justin Timberlake brought sexy back, but sadly, it did not work out that way. But it definitely offers that same electro-pop feel. Maybe with a little bit of Billy Idol too. Maybe.

“Need Room? We Have Space! (December 22nd.)” has female backing vocals, about the only thing a lot of the other tracks are missing. It’s not overpowering, though, promise. It’s definitely more stripped down than most of the songs on this album.

If you want happier, almost 8-bit-video-game-style, beats, give “The Song of the Century!” a try. It resembles some late ’80s game that I can’t think of at the moment.

Songs about the mail? Hell yeah. It all starts on “Damascus.” I am glad she voted Yes on 2, but I wonder how she knew about it. Chop Chop make me happy with their accidental topicality. There’s nothing transparent about them on “Screens.”

This is more standard female-fronted indie pop, but there is enough of an edge, thanks to the drum machines, that makes it more than worthwhile to listen to. More than cutting celery stalks into bite-size pieces, Chop Chop give one pause on such breathtaking tracks as Serial Killer.

Some of the songs are a little too brooding for me, but not “C Train David.” If the C Train leaves in the morning, then lead singer Catherine Cavanagh must be Sheena Easton, singing about her baby. The uptempo nature of this track is definitely the direction that Chop Chop should be going in.

“Goon Shoe Drop” does this Book of Love thing, which is kind of nice, because Book of Love don’t exist anymore. This song reminds me of “Chatterbox, Part 2” and “Witchcraft.”

Like the air bubbles on the floral design on the wall, Wallpaper have pop. Even the album title, “On the Chewing Gum Ground,” makes one think of bubblegum rock. This can’t be a coincidence.

I’m a sucker for anything on K Records. They just never let me down. This is no exception. Sure, I wish there were angsty women singing, but there is nothing wrong with the album as it is. “Solar Panel Sleeve” has good backing vocals and harmonies. It doesn’t have as much jangle as one would think, but it’s still quite nice.

“Nod Off” also has these some poppy sensibilities and seems to be trapped in the pre-grunge early 90s, like a Supergrass album. “Pop Rocket” is just that–an excuse for me to use “pop” in the review again. Talk about keyword density.

“Vertigo Jane” would be great on a hot summer day, when even your cat doesn’t feel like chasing the aluminum foil ball. This song also is typical of the West Coast sound. Or maybe I’m just a sucker for the keyboard.

Hey, it’s the band that did the song in the original iPhone commercial! Yep. That is what Orba Squara will always be known as. The song is actually called “Perfect Timing (This Morning).” And there are words! It’s not just a 30-second song. Give it a try.

“So Comfortable” reminds me of Kristin Hersh, only kinder and gentler. I always wanted her to be a compassionate conservative, and finally my wish comes true. Like the rest of the album, there are peaceful instruments and soothing lyrics.

“My Favorite Song” isn’t my favorite song, but it doesn’t suck either. Really, a lot of these songs run together. One time, I fast forwarded through a song, and a 20-second jump through the track resulted in a seamless transition. It didn’t miss a beat.

It seems unlikely that Orba Squara will be able to emerge from the shadow created by the iPhone song, but I am sure they made so much money that it doesn’t really matter.