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For their own good Fifty years ago, they were screwed-up kids sent to the Florida School for Boys to be straightened out. But now they are screwed-up men, scarred by the whippings they endured. Read the story and see a video and portrait gallery.
Why we care: If you go to a cocktail party where casual chitchat involves postmodernism, author Martin Amis and foreign countries you've never heard of, the music playing softly in the background will probably be this buzz-hot Portland, Ore., quintet, which uses theremin, bouzoki, hurdy-gurdy and canonical high-brow references to make thinky art-rock.
Why we like it: Even though the above description makes the Decemberists sound absolutely dreadful, you will find yourself loving the group as much as loathing them (often within a 30-second span). Lead singer-songwriter Colin Meloy has a high, wavering voice, perfect for such snobby foofaraw as "Affix your barb and bayonet, the curlews carve their arabesques." The songs - ranging in topics from socialite murders to the Civil War - often shift in sound from prickly indie noodling to grandiose orchestration to darn-near disco (often within a 30-second span).
Reminds us of: Talking Heads, Death Cab for Cutie, yuppies who smoke pipes unironically
Download these: O Valencia!, The Perfect Crime #2
Grade: B
Michael Leviton
Album: My Favorite Place to Drown (Ace Fu/Smith Street)
In stores: Now
Why we care: The Tim Burton of the indie scene, NYC fave Leviton sings subtly macabre, decidedly cheeky songs about Coney Island breakups and seafaring sadness. The ukulele and glockenspiel accompaniment give the songs a Roaring Twenties tone. Getting sand kicked in your face has never sounded so melodious.
Why we like it: To paraphrase a famous pirate, if nautical nonsense be something you wish, Leviton's curiosities might be right up your galley. ("Must you always play the glacier? Must I play Titanic? I'm in love with the tip of your iceberg, and I long to know what's going on below.")
Reminds us of: Pee-wee's Beachhouse
Download these: Summer's the Worst, Saltwater to Quench Your Thirst
Grade: B
Ludacris
Album: Release Therapy Disturbing Tha Peace
In stores: Now
Why we care: Has actor-rapper Luda-cris finally surpassed Jay-Z as the most lively and loose-lipped MC in the game? Dang straight. Thanks to his killer new disc - and Jay's lackluster comeback - the Hotlanta star born Christopher Bridges just blew by Beyonce's beau.
Why we like it: He's funny, he's fast and he has a DJ's ear for dive-bomb hooks. This is supposed to be Ludacris' "grownup" album: a rap royal surveying his kingdom with a mature eye. But even when he's rapping about adult responsibilities (see Mouths to Feed), he makes being a father and supporting a growing network of hangers-on highly entertaining ("I accept responsibility/They all pay rent/So if it don't make dollars, then it don't make cents"). The album loses a bit of steam toward the end, but the first half is a veritable powderkeg.
Reminds us of: Jay-Z with a whoopee cushion
Download these: Money Maker, Girls Gone Wild, Mouths to Feed
Grade: B+
Sean Daly can be reached at sdaly@sptimes.com or (727) 893-8467. His blog is at blogs.tampbay.com/popmusic.
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Fifty years ago, they were screwed-up kids sent to the Florida School for Boys to be straightened out. But now they are screwed-up men, scarred by the whippings they endured. Read the story and see a video and portrait gallery.
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