Steady as She Goes

Smothered by the indulgence of his rock star ranking, Jack White steps into the eccentricities of the supergroup, and at first glance, this seems to be a band where White's imposing presence could overshadow the rest. Not the case with these Raconteurs. Teaming with fellow Detroit songwriter Brendan Benson and Jack Lawrence and Patrick Keeler, the rhythm section from Cincinnati band the Greenhornes, White exhales a bit, deferring enough to his mates to make Broken Boy Soldiers play like a team effort. Following the Benson blueprint, "Steady as She Goes," which opens as a slice of 1960's radio pop, the record steers away from pigeonholing the rest of the way. White's in a Middle Eastern mood for the title track as he pulls off a wicked Robert Plant howl, while Lawrence and Keeler excel on the chorus-strong "Intimate Secretary" and the optimistic acoustic rocker "Yellow Sun." Like so many all-star bands before them, The Raconteurs could be one and done. But don't place the blame on this fertile and genuine debut.

"THIS IS A REAL GOD DAMN EMERGENCY!!" shouts Steve Albini to close Excellent Italian Greyhound's opening track "The End of Radio." A warning that caps off sarcastic platitudes like "Can you hear me now?", "That drum roll means we've got a winner!", and "I'd like to thank our sponsors," the line's unnerving insistence is a reminder of Albini's simple, yet commanding language. Often ushered into dark corners with other furrowed musicians pumping their fists and directing anger toward a faceless opponent, Shellac are in fact purveyors of a strand of staunch politicism that's as funny as it is critical. The commentaries are biting and the sarcasm is snide, but save for the darker musical signifiers, their lyrical conviction is usually dressed in a garb of humor and playfulness.

Shellac record number 16, The End of Radio, is comprised of two previously unreleased BBC Radio Peel Sessions.

The frustrating thing about smooth jazz isn't an absence of talent or chops; actually, there are plenty of smooth jazz musicians who have chops galore even though their studio recordings don't reflect that. At smooth jazz concerts, it isn't hard to find artists who take a lot more chances on-stage than they do in the studio. But taking chances in the studio isn't conducive to airplay on commercial smooth jazz/NAC radio stations, which is why so many generic, unimaginative smooth jazz recordings have been flooding the market since the 1980s. Walter Beasley has certainly given listeners plenty of generic, unimaginative recordings over the years, but not everything he records is without merit – and Free Your Mind does have its moments.