Paul Brill “New Pagan Love Song”

(Scarlet Shame Records)

Compare to: Old 97’s, Moby, Ryan Adams

Paul Brill’s new album, “New Pagan Love Song,” is a delightful surprise in rock ‘n’ roll sensibilities as it mixes and weaves through traditional vocals with experimental rhythms. His rough mixture of feelings evokes memories of Beck’s depressing and experimental “Sea Change” and Wilco’s “Be There.” The mixture of electronic music and natural sounds is combined with thin but pleasing vocals. “New Pagan Love Song” is enough to lose oneself for an afternoon. If Moby were into rock ‘n’ roll, he would make something like this.

The self-dubbed style on his new album is electronica, and it works absolutely. The opening track, “Trindade,” is a lovingly melancholic echo of abuse and catharsis. The underlying melody adds tinges of sadness to the cheery-voiced, poignant lyrics with lines like “I broke my hand on the side of your face,” which is sung with sincerity, adding to the surreal feeling reverberating from the music.

“Weekday Bender” is a mellow groove of afternoons lost to the brilliance of alcoholic bewilderment, which many people have experienced for themselves — some more than others. The song is, in effect, a love song to all lovers and alcoholics. This track would do well on repeat on a bitter afternoon over several bottles or shots of your favorite abuse as it attempts to keep you brooding while quietly improving your mood.

A unique aspect of this album is the lack of filler tracks that often plague most releases. The lyrics are rich in content and don’t linger on the clich‚ of loves lost and gained. The feelings and lyrics go deeper.

Brill shares the lyrical abilities of Ryan Adams while retaining his own voice. Johnny Cash’s spirit of mixing rock ‘n’ roll and country makes an appearance in “Troubled Life of Herschel Grimes,” the content of which could be compared to “A Boy Named Sue” about a boy on a rampage. In another life, Brill could perhaps be a country singer as his voice delves into a country twang, which isn’t without charm.

— Matt Campbell

Cradle of Filth

“Nyphetamine” (Roadrunner Records)

Compare to: Dimmu Borgir, Emperor, Moonspell

Without a doubt, UK black Goth metallers Cradle of Filth are an acquired taste. Its bizarre brew of extreme metal, keyboards and symphonic elements often has a polarizing effect on metal fans. All this is topped off by singer and founder Dani Filth, whose psychotic vocals range from guttural death grunts to high-pitched squeals that sound reminiscent of a small rodent with its naughty bits caught in a circular saw.

For most of its career, Cradle has truly been a love ’em or hate ’em band, often known more for its Dracula-meets-Hellraiser stage gear and offensive T-shirt slogans than for the music to all but a few diehards. With the release of “Nyphetamine” however, all that is about to change.

On “Nyphetamine,” Cradle of Filth has pushed the keyboards to the background, bringing the guitars and drums up front where they belong. The album is rife with blistering lead guitar work that recalls the glory days of British metal and wouldn’t sound out of place on an Iron Maiden album. Though the keyboards are still present, they now serve to add to the malevolent atmosphere Cradle of Filth’s music creates, rather than dominating it.

Dani Filth has also reigned in his notorious screeching, and where his vocals at times sounded comical on previous albums, it now sounds sinister and venomous, going from whisper to growl to raging banshee shriek at a moment’s notice.

Key tracks on “Nyphetamine” such as “Coffin Fodder,” “Nemesis” and the nine-minute title track, which features guest vocals from Leaves’ Eyes singer Liv Kristine, are impressive not only for their seamless mixture of metallic extremity and mournful Gothic elements, but because they show the leaps and bounds Cradle of Filth has made as musicians and songwriters. While tracks on past albums tended to run together, songs on “Nyphetamine” are distinctive and well composed throughout.

— Joshua Haun

Silvertide

“Show and Tell” (J Records)

Compare to: The Black Crowes, Jet, Kings of Leon

Silvertide’s lyrics in its latest album, “Show and Tell,” make the band members sound like they are complete sleazebags with an unquenchable lust for women and an inclination toward drunken buffoonery.

The album wreaks of songs about experience with sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll, and vocalist Walt Lafty seems to be the culprit of the majority of this experience.

In the track “Devil’s Daughter,” Lafty croons, “Like a knife at my throat/ I like the way that she gropes/ Her curves make my blood swim my veins … I went to bed with an angel/ At least that’s what she said/ But as she tore off her dress/ Lord I must confess/ I got the devil’s daughter/ I’ve got the devil’s daughter in my bed.”

However, Lafty isn’t just some one-dimensional guy. The album also contains songs about leaving home, mentally unstable people and a frustrating relationship.

Silvertide may not have the most wholesome lyrics ever, but the stellar music makes up for it in every way possible.

“Show and Tell” is laced with deep blues-rock grooves, syncopated back beats, astounding guitar solos and even some cowbells on “Devil’s Daughter.”

Nearly every song has a guitar solo or a ridiculously convoluted blues riff of some sort, all of which Silvertide lead guitarist Nick Perri nails with precision and grace.

Silvertide is a prime example of what happens when five guys with a ridiculous amount of talent come together to make music and throw down a few beers. The five churn out exceptional music that resembles the epitome of how great rock ‘n’ roll should be played.

Every song on “Show and Tell” is remarkably solid. Both musicians and music listeners with no musical inclination will love Silvertide. Silvertide could be the next big thing if it continues to stick to its roots and compose music of this caliber.

— Dan Hopper

Hot Snakes

“Audit in Progress” (Swami Records)

Compare to: The Ramones, Screeching Weasel, The Rolling Blackouts

It seems as though in the dog-eat-dog music industry of today, every band attempts to set itself apart by talking about how its music is an unprecedented combination of genres with which it is experimenting, as if every song is groundbreaking and destined for rock ‘n’ roll glory.

The Hot Snakes, however, seem completely content with their homogeneous sound.

From their Green Day-esque three-chord melodies to their minimal, repetitive lyrics reminiscent of the Ramones, the Hot Snakes’ new album, “Audit in Progress,” is undeniably punk.

Although the Hot Snakes guitarists don’t do as much with the allotted three chords as Green Day does, this lack of creative ax-wielding is redeemed by Mario Rubalcaba’s intense, rhythmic drumming, especially on “This Mystic Decade.”

At most points throughout the album, namely “Hi-Lites” and “Reflex,” it’s easy to totally disregard the lyrics. They are almost impossible to decipher, and it seems as though the same two or three lines are just repeated over and over for each song.

Even though the repetitiveness gets very annoying very fast, the lines that are repeated (the decipherable ones, anyway) have that middle-finger-to-authority ideal the Sex Pistols brought to the table in the ’70s.

“Audit in Progress” is definitely a punk album for the first 11 tracks, but on the 12th and final track, “Plenty for All,” the listener is blind-sided by a Led Zeppelin-sounding classic rock ballad. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, since “Plenty for All” is the best song on the disc; it’s just more out of place than President Bush at a Mensa meeting.

Although the drumming is great and the three-chord melodies work for the Hot Snakes, attempting to sing along will be a futile cause.

Also, starting this album on the last song wouldn’t be a horrible idea; neither would turning it off after that song.

—Andrew Shafer