The White Stripes employ Ryman Auditorium ringers like Loretta Lynn and Porter Wagoner to liven up their shows, but Teddy Thompson needs no such gimmicks to kick start his music. The son of Richard and Linda Thompson, two grand old souls of '70s folk rock, Teddy tackles country music for real on Upfront & Down Low.  Occasionally sounding like his barroom buddy Rufus Wainwright, Thompson gives passion filled readings of cornpone classics "She Thinks I Still Care" (George Jones), "My Blue Tears" (Dolly Parton), "I'm Left, You're Right, She's Gone" (Elvis Presley), "My Friends Are Gonna Be Strangers" (Merle Haggard), and more. Thompson typically broadens the songs and flattens out their grooves, occasionally adding strings (scored by Wainwright) and generally infusing the material with more pathos than in their original designs. While country music (we're talking real country, not Kenny Chesney) has always combined misery and mirth in equal doses, Thompson brings his not so serene soul to these 12 tracks, mournful and majestic being the twin poles of his interpretive style.

His voice perpetually tremulous and as downcast as a lonesome puppy, Thompson wails his heart out in "My Heart Echoes," drips tears in a sour milk sea in "The Worst Is Yet To Come," and curses a bluebird in "My Blue Tears." It's a mournful, oddly detached recording for Thompson, whose ability to engage the listener has always separated him from the pack. Upfront & Down Low could be the soundtrack to some bizarre Robert Altman film, the CD's vignettes like a tone poem with a singular mood: miserableness.

Thompson composed only one song for the album, "Down Low," the track automatically freeing the singer from his imposed country restraints. The record's slowest song, it's also the most swinging, tuneful, and emotionally resonant, the album's arms-length feel here shrunk to puckering distance. The song's slow groove is quickly challenged by the sh*t-kicking "You Finally Said Something Good When You Said Goodbye," which captures all the magic of a Patsy Cline/Ernest Tubb collaboration.

Over five releases, Thompson has shown himself to be a clever, adroit and nimble singer-songwriter in an era when that designation unfortunately doesn't carry much weight. Upfront & Down Low chronicles his unique evolution.

Teddy Thompson: "Down Low"  (MP3, 5:51)

 

"Mein Fuhrer - I can walk!": Electronic pop has endless capacity for reinvention. Every few years budding young knob twiddlers come along, rob the grave of the past, kick out the jams of their elders, and make something new with those now old 1s and 0s. In this case, that formula is literal.  German duo Digitalism recall every electronic great from Kraftwerk to Chemical Brothers, their boinging blend of house beats, shattered vocal samples and stamped-in-your-brain-happy synths the perfect summer fun cocktail.

Digitalism's Jens Moelle and Ismail Tuefekci cough up all their heroes on their Astralwerks debut Idealism, mashing styles from Daft Punk, Timo Maas (!), and Basement Jaxx, and even the Cure, all coupled to a soulful bittersweet melodic thing that goes beyond simple hedonism. Digitalism avoid the fate of fellow Berliners To Rococo Rot and (my personal hero) TM Schneider by recognizing that perfect space bleeps and beats aren't enough, that like Frank Zappa once said, "you have to be more punk!" Moelle and Teufekci comply with several tracks of punk rotting frenzy wherein Moelle sings like Karen 0 unstrapped from her gurney, lending monotone vocals to slashing hi-hat grooves and sampled guitar ("Anything New," "Homezone"). For my cash, Digitalism really excel at Teutonic electronica tempered with vocal absurdism, as in "Idealistic" and the quivering leg thriller, "Digitalism in Cairo," a strobe treated Moelle vocal flying over cartoonish guitar and bass bombs.

And for fans of the classic hardware synth whammy bar, Digitalism delivers much frivolity: "The Pulse," "Magnets," "Apollo-Gize," "Jupiter Approach" giving you reasons to remove the seeds from your old Tangerine Dream gatefold album covers.

Today's MP3 from Digitalism is "Pogo." Could be any number of new wave retro revivalists searching for their best XTC treat, but the song's subversive synths and chorus cry of "whoa ho" is like Suicide sexing up The Beach Boys (not Interpol hoping for crumbs from Gary Numan's table).

Digitalism: "Pogo (radio edit)"  (MP3, 3:06)