Bitch Prefect, Bird Nerds (side A)

2013's Bird Nerds is the second album from Australian trio Bitch Prefect.  Referentially, they fall somewhere between the splattery mess of Perfect Sound Forever-era Pavement and the concise, strummy pop of the early Television Personalities records.  The songs do not chase TVP's rave-up punk rock energy, and generally sit more at mid-tempo.  While the understated melodies are very well thought out and crafted, the songs float naturally through verses and choruses, without some of the surprises that made their historical antecedents so special.  The lack of attention to the musical performances contributes to Bitch Prefect's charm — the falling-apart quality is casual, and seems like it would be part of every take.  The vocals do seem like they'd benefit from more careful takes, though the first-take quality is charming, with even the flagrant notes feeling natural and unproblematic.  The mixes fit a modern lo-fi aesthetic, with particularly bright and chime-y recordings of guitars unlike anything in early Television Personalities or early Pavement.  The mastering disappoints me a bit, as the kick drum on some songs just leaps out unnaturally, and would benefit from being tamed, especially to match the more conservative mixes.  The museum-like design of the front cover emphasizes Bitch Prefect's levity, with the cover printed on impressively thick reverse-stock paper.

Sparks, Angst in My Pants (side A)

1982's Angst in My Pants falls chronologically between No. 1 in Heaven and In Outer Space, but it's more rock-oriented and bombastic than either.  Sparks remained modern after No. 1 in Heaven, with regimented rhythms (though it sounds like a drummer playing to a click and not a drum machine) and even dynamics with little range.  The renewed emphasis on guitars, when coupled with these tendencies, created a big-sounding album that's probably the duo's most emphatic.  While this approach de-emphasizes Russell Mael's amazing songwriting, Angst in My Pants still features some memorable classics.  Some songs, like "Sherlock Holmes",  retain the subtlety of Mael's early songwriting, while others, like "I Predict", entwine the compositional style closely with this new production approach.  Ron Mael's voice has been thinned and compressed to fit into this modern style, but his takes remain expressive and emotive.  The exaggerated cover image nicely ties Angst in My Pants to earlier Sparks albums, with the Mael brothers once again creating a narrative through one picture.

Colin Newman, A-Z (side A)

With 1980's A-Z, Colin Newman refined the more accessible elements of Wire's then-final studio album 154 to fit his coherent vision.  The songs, while still far from anything commercial, follow more consistent verse-chorus structures than was common for Wire.  Robert Gotobed's drumming remains recognizable here, though it's sonically more uniform and polished than on any Wire album, and the snappy snare is especially prominent.  Mike Thorne retained some familiar studio tricks, like the heavily-chorused bass guitar and the occasional use of looped backing vocals.  Newman's vocal moves a bit further to the foreground here, with a present sound that references commercial records of the time.  While the guitars often play simple, repeating patterns, their distorted timbres introduce A-Z's grittiest sonic element.  They also never provide the rhythmic drive that was common for guitar parts on Wire albums.  Desmond Simmons's involvement here is interesting, as his solo album Alone on Penguin Island featured the other half of Wire, Bruce Gilbert and Graham Lewis — apparently the members or Wire retained a close social circle even after their collaboration stopped.  The tiny, detailed images on the cover fit the album nicely — they're engaging but not overly friendly, with a pretty subdued palette.

Loudon Wainwright III, Album II (side A)

The first two Loudon Wainwright III albums are grouped together, perhaps because they predate his comedic hits like "Dead Skunk", or maybe even because they're on the same record label.  The first album, which is self-titled but often referred to as "Album I", is the one that I've grown particularly attached to, so I always think of 1971's Album II in comparison.  Sonically, Album II feels a bit brighter and more purposely modern, without the rich mid-range that makes the debut sound so timeless.  The songs here are also often structurally simplified past standard folk conventions, into a style that more resembles punk or indie bands for their sheer primitivism.  For example, the opener "Me and My Friend the Cat" rests on the same chord for the verses and a different single chord for the choruses.  While the sarcasm on the first album was complex and literate, the lyrics here just drip with tangible darkness.  Album II features "Motel Blues", which has come to be one on Wainwright's best-known and most-covered songs.  The portrait photo hints that this is a singer-songwriter album, while the quirkiness of the photo, coupled with the overtly '70s font at the top, indicate how arty and creative the contents are.

Jefferson Airplane, Bless its Pointed Little Head (side A)

Jefferson Airplane had several modes as a band that they navigate between and combine.  They're best remembered for their simple, radio-friendly hits, which are mostly missing from Bless its Pointed Little Head.  The version of "Somebody to Love" that's included here has Grace Slick drifting away from the signature vocal melody, and the instrumental interaction emphasized instead.  My favorite part of the band is their abstract and strangely-constructed psychedelic side, which often combined with pop songs on After Bathing at Baxter's, the album which directly preceded this one.  Here, the extended 11-minute exploration called "Bear Melt", with improvised vocals against a very loose structure, captures perhaps the most extreme example of the band's cerebral, open-ended explorations.  Most of Bless its Pointed Little Head emphasizes Airplane's blues-rock tendencies, which rarely turned up on their studio albums.  Kaukonen, Dryden, and Casady were all incredible players in the genre, who obviously had fun performing together live, and sharing a love of the style.  While this aspect of Airplane feels somewhat dated to me, the talent and enthusiasm always shine through.  The mix of Bless its Pointed Little Head is a bit bass-heavy — as great a player as Casady is, I'd like to hear a bit more of Spencer Dryden's drums.  The amazing textured paper cover changes subtly as ink is applied more in some parts than others, though the punch line of the image is unrelated to the excellent music here.

Dead C, Harsh 70s Reality (side A)

Extended over four sides of a double-album, 1992's Harsh 70s Reality presents an impressively broad, but still unified, insight into the Dead C's distinctive vision, and its widely-recognized distinctiveness and impact has not dulled with time.  The album sides are structurally very diverse — the abstract and extended "Driver U.F.O." fills side A, while side B contains pop songs with vocals, including a take on the oddly-catchy "Sky".  Robbie Yates's drums sometimes propel the music forward as the most central element, and other times are entirely absent — he is also credited with guitar, noise, and vocal in the liner notes.  While the sound is consistently lo-fi and rough, it varies from the narrow mid-range frequency range of "Sea is Violet" to songs that at least fill more of its limited sonic spectrum.  The most impressive part might be how all of the diverse tracks manage to achieve coherence.  The unifying element, across the different compositional approaches, is the playing — it's always chaotically improvised within each structure, with the awkward and distinctive personalities on guitar of Michael Morley and Bruce Russell bringing a consistently familiar sound and feel.  While all three members, and even guest Jean George, contribute vocals, the delivery and recording remains instantly recognizable, and also helps pull the album together as tracks change in style around these performances.  The stark black-and-white pattern on the cover and insert fits the music perfectly — it's both abstract and recognizable, confusing and engaging.

Pelt, Effigy (side C)

Over the nearly 20 years of Pelt's existence, their line-up has evolved, and their sound has grown more consistent and refined.  For 2012's Effigy, founding members Patrick Best and Mike Gangloff are joined by Mikel Dimmick, who first joined for 2005's Untitled, and newest member Nathan Bowles.  Where most early albums could be chaotic and diverse, Effigy varies far less across its four sides.  Each side contains one or two long instrumental tracks, and each track creates a feeling of drone and suspension, through the use of a consistent palette.  Most of the instruments employed produce overt attacks in their performance, so the idea of drone is more conceptual than a simple use of held tones.  The liner notes point out that all of the sounds were created with acoustic instruments.  The palette changes slightly from one track to the next, often with different instrumentation, but the overarching sound of the album remains consistent.  Each track moves through its space without having any obvious structure or logical progress toward an end.  Sonically, the album is slightly thin and bright, with limited low-end and very present treble — this is especially noticeable when the bowed cello is used.  The beautiful paintings on the packaging hint at the vaguely folk-y nature of the contents, but they're far more representative and narrative than Pelt's music.