Music: Wiggly Air, by Kurt Gottschalk

Too much paranoias. When in need of squeaky thin organ-driven new wave of late, I often turn to the endearing L.A. four-piece the Paranoyds. The fashionista four-piece (they call themselves an “eyebrow band”) is generally just the right mix of quirky, sarcastic and sick of it. Their first album, 2019’s Carnage Bargain, got some attention with the singles “Girlfriend Degree” and “Egg Salad.” The new Talk, Talk, Talk (Banquet Records) has a bigger sound which weighs down their charm at times. I’ve always thought of them as a singles band, though, and the advance track “Single Origin Experience” is eminently catchy. The hi-fi sound is a bit of a surprise, but they bridge the gap with new takes on “Freak Out” and “Sunburn” (both from the 2017 EP Eat Their Own) which hit pretty satisfactorily. Luckily, they’re not yet done being disgusted with everything. Meanwhile, on the opposite coast, the D.C. five-piece the Paranoid Style has issued a rather more mature celebration of forgotten rock heroes. Lead singer and songwriter Elizabeth Nelson has always reminded me a bit of Chrissie Hynde, not in sound so much as in smarts and attitude, and here she and her band match the Pretenders penchant for calling out loves and influences as well. Opening with an unlikely ode to album cover designer Barney Bubbles, For Executive Meeting (Bar / None) name checks John Prine, Silver Jews’ David Berman, Fountains of Wayne’s Adam Schlesinger and the Velvet Underground’s Doug Yule, as well as authors Jack Kerouac and P.G. Woderhouse. That sounds like enough to drag the album down to concept or tribute level, but Nelson doesn’t let that happen. It might be a bit adult contemporary adjacent, but sincerity saves them from the yacht.

Stooges-styled stupors and stompers. One thing rock doesn’t need is more testosterone-induced posturing, but Dennis R. Sanders pulls it off using the alias Spirit in the Room while in the guise of a character named Flamingo. At least one of those three personas possesses a convincing Iggy swagger. Flamingo (the EP, out on Housecore Records) is a fast blast about life in chaos with plenty of pottymouth and outrage. It sounds a bit like Nine Inch Nails at times but don’t hold that against him. The five songs simmer like a Los Angeles (the town Sanders calls home) potboiler about to boil over. From just a bit to the east in Las Vegas comes the supremely screwy Spring Breeding, whose new, self-released set Doing the Limbo is a no wave blast with feral synthesizers and funky riffs left out in the rain and in the midst of it singer/guitarist Tyler Gutleben managing to play it calm, cool and collected (cf. U.S. Maple’s Al Johnson or Iggy circa Soldier). “Bad Palindromes” alone is guaranteed to mess up your next house party. Meanwhile, Chicago label Corbett vs. Dempsey has done the world a great service in pulling together an altogether unlikely compilation of tracks by Dredd Foole & the Din from 1982. Songs in Heat pairs an explosive and unrehearsed studio session by Boston singer and songwriter Dan Ireton with his friends Mission of Burma as a backing band with three live songs recorded a few months later. It’s wonderfully primal and droney, mixing Stooges energy with Joy Division despair. And there’s more to come. The album—which also includes a pounding, noisy, compact-at-7-minutes and almost de rigueur for the day cover of “Sister Ray”—is the first of four Dredd Foole archival releases by C vs. D.

Everything old is old again. With well over 75 years of combined recording and performance history between them, Gary Lucas (Jeff Buckley, Captain Beefheart and the Magic Band) and Peter Stampfel (the Fugs, the Holy Modal Rounders) represent generations of Weird American Songbook. Their sole release as the Du-Tels, 2000’s No Knowledge of Music Required, has made it into the digital realm (CD and download, with bonus tracks, from Don Giovanni Records) and is well worth seeking out. It’s a joyous, ridiculous, sometimes cynical collection of sing-a-longs and slices of silliness. The pairing of Stampfel’s strained and impassioned voice (plus banjo) and Lucas’s virtuosic guitar playing (plus vocals) is absolutely infectious. Original tunes roast alongside chestnuts by Irving Berlin, Michelle Shocked and Joseph Spence, not to mention their takes on “Ring of Fire” and “Shortenin’ Bread.” It’s a meeting of hearts and minds and one of the best entries in either of their discographies, perfect for the waning evenings of summer.