The US leg of the tour brought a-ha to Chicago’s Riviera Theater Thursday night, fresh from a successful three-night stand at New York City’s Nokia Theater. This was the band’s first appearance at a Chicago venue since their 1986 world tour, and one of only a handful of US dates on this tour. Local a-ha fans – most of whom looked to be in their mid-30s – filled the old-fashioned movie theater quickly, and at 7:36 p.m., the trio along with a drummer and second keyboardist bounded on stage to rapturous screams.

The set began with a lively version of “The Bandstand” off their 2009 album, Foot of the Mountain. Upon its release, the album was billed as a return to the band’s synth-laden, ’80s roots; and “Bandstand”, with its earthy keyboard riff and martial drumbeat would seem to confirm this. Likewise, Mountain’s title track – which followed in this set – has the feel of a brightly colored 80′s indie romp in the vein of Joshua Tree-era U2.

A-ha had gone on hiatus for seven years in the mid-90s, reuniting in 1998 to record what would become their sixth studio album, 2000’s well received Minor Earth Major Sky. Here, that album’s title track saw its original hip-hop beat stripped down so that the song became a shimmering acoustic number. On the lush ballad “Summer Moved On”, Harket proved his vocal edge has not dulled at all, holding one especially long and high note for what seemed like ages. To this the crowd responded with even more ecstatic screams. And those were just beginning.

As the band reached further back into its catalogue for “The Living Daylights” and “Hunting High and Low”, the crowd lustily sang the choruses. Suddenly, as the music quieted and the crowd sang on its own, the event took on the feel of an outdoor festival.

The show began to wind down with the three band members gathered at the front of the stage for dream-like acoustic renditions of “And You Tell Me” and “Early Morning”. The band stepped off stage briefly and fans were treated to a big-screen photo book featuring pictures of a-ha through the years, cheering loudest when images of the band in ’80s-era garb appeared.

Returning to the stage, band set about closing the show with its two biggest hits. The shiny New Wave of “The Sun Always Shines on TV” managed to conjure nostalgia while still sounding fresh. Screams of instant recognition greeted the insistent drumming and hard-to-resist keyboards of “Take On Me”. As the band charge through the song, the giant screen behind the band threw up images of the song’s iconic music video. A sea of hands were raised and moving side to side in time with the song. The surreal scene seemed to be taking place both in the past and present. As far as goodbyes go, this one was more sweet than bitter.

Setlist:
The Bandstand
Foot of the Mountain
Analogue
Minor Earth Major Sky
Summer Moved On
Move to Memphis
Stay on These Roads
Cry Wolf
Scoundrel Days
Manhattan Skyline
And You Tell Me
Early Morning
Hunting High and Low
The Swing of Things

Encore:
The Sun Always Shines on TV
Take On Me

But this description hardly does justice to an album that’s been credited with shaping the alternative hip-hop genre. Truthfully, one could fill a few shelves extolling this album’s many virtues, and indeed, hip-hop fans and aficionados alike have pored over every note of this classic. Track by track, the album flows like few in the genre.

Opener “Excursions” begins with impossibly deep bass, and its languid pace sets the tone for much of the album. Almost immediately, Phife and Q-Tip establish their quicksilver wordplay and verse trading. The more upbeat “Buggin’ Out” follows. Like its predecessor, this song is propelled by a vivid bass line and a blistering vocal performance from Phife.

Theory also features some of Tribe’s most trenchant socio-political critiques, particularly on the track “The Infamous Date Rape,” which features appropriately sinister sounding instrumentation. “Rap Promoter” and “Show Business” both critique music industry fakery, all over bass and ephemeral keyboards. On this album, the flow of the MCs provides the melody, a counterpoint to the upright bass plucked by the legendary Ron Carter and the jazzy instrumentation.

Though the band eschewed the jazz rap label, some of the songs here deftly merge the sounds of jazz with the swagger of hip-hop. This is most obvious on “Jazz (We Got)”. An unassuming keyboard figure creates a mellow vibe, and at one point, the song lyrically alludes to The Doors’ “Light My Fire”. The loungey-sounding “Verses from the Abstract” traffics in dissonant jazz keyboards. “Vibes and Stuff” is as laid as back that title implies and features laconic rhymes from Q-Tip and Phife.

The album closes with the epic posse song “Scenario”, featuring (among others) Busta Rhymes and Charlie Brown of Leaders of the New School. Like the rest of the album, this anthemic song never feels out of date and can still get a club full of people to sing along with every lyric.

Almost two decades on from its release, this 14-song collection doesn’t merely age well. It brims with energy, wit, and the brash sound of geniuses at work.

Beginning with its title track, the 12-song collection alternately reveres the highs and laments the lows of romantic relationships. “You sang me into my dreams/so I forgave you everything,” Hatfield sings on the album’s titular song. The song, propelled by acoustic guitar, offers a wistful, intimate opening to the album.

Later, she sings over a sprightly piano line, “Why can’t we love each other,” later adding, “we’re both pretty damaged, fragile and afraid.” One of the album’s few upbeat tracks, this song captures the tentative hope at the beginning of a relationship.

Hatfield is again full of questions on “What is Wrong?” “Can’t you find a reason/to keep believing,” she asks, singing her plea over a decidedly twangy guitar line.

Though the album has a confessional feel, the songs are not merely diary entries set to music. On “Butterflies”, Hatfield combines delicate strumming with angelic harmonies as she intones, “I’m trying to get through this night without any help.” Whether said help is from a lover or someone (something?) else, we’re only left to guess.

“The End of the War” is one of Peace’s finest moments. The two-and-half minute track combines insistent strumming and angelic harmonies, and highlights the album’s exceptional flow. Songs weave in and out of each other seamlessly, but each maintains a distinct identity.

As the album hits its midpoint, the reflective instrumental “Unsung” gives the listener a breather from all the romantic sturm und drang. Later, “Evan” plays like a letter full of yearning written to a lost friend or lover (“they keep telling me you’re a casualty/but that’s just the story they heard”).

Elsewhere on the album, Hatfield diverts slightly from her intimate folk sound, channeling country influences (“Faith in Our Friends”) and quirky pop on the upbeat “Let’s Go Home”. On the latter song, Hatfield recalls all she did to win over a lover (“I made the bed for you/I filled the fridge with food”).

Peace and Love closes with the slow-burning harmonica of “Dear Anonymous”. By this point, it almost sounds as if Hatfield is singing directly into your ear. Hatfield has crafted an alluring collection of songs that pierce the soul with their intimacy.

On the heels of an acoustic tour with Neil Young, the band actively sought to steer their music into a quieter, more contemplative direction when they began the recording sessions for Laid. Working with uber-producer Brian Eno, they succeeded in creating an intimate collection of songs that both alluded to and expanded the indie-rock sound of their previous four releases. They refined their sound and sharpened their songwriting to create an album that is at turns folky (“One of the Three”), ambient (“Skindiving”), and anthemic (“Laid”, “Low Low Low”).

The quick and dirty title track doesn’t hint at the album’s languid pace and emotional complexity. Laid takes its time unfolding, and throughout the album, the band marries stirring melodies to thoughtful, emotionally resonant lyrics. Haunting album opener “Out to Get You” begins with gently strummed guitars before swelling to the climax of Booth’s yearning cry, “The human touch is what I need.”

Overall, the album hangs together on thematic threads of love, loss, hope, and spirituality. At one end of the spectrum are melancholy songs like “One of the Three” (a meditation on sacrificing oneself for others) and “Lullaby” (an eerie tale of physical abuse). Such poignant moments are contrasted with tracks like the joyous “Sometimes (Lester Piggot)” and its earnest, gospel-like chorus (“Sometimes, when I look deep in your eyes, I swear I can see your soul”). The bawdy title track – which got even more exposure from its use in the film American Pie – celebrates a lusty, if dysfunctional, romantic relationship.

James doesn’t always take a sanguine view of love. Standout track “Five-O” at first seethes, then swells to a chorus that’s a stinging indictment of love (“If it lasts forever/hope I’m the first to die”). On “P.S.”, a sinister, loping guitar figure propels the song as it describes a disintegrating relationship (“You liar, you liar/You can’t live the dreams you’re spinning”). On the flip side, “Say Something” – the album’s second single and a minor hit on U.S. college radio – celebrates first love with synths and Britpop percussion.

At the time of its release, reviewers on both sides of the Atlantic called Laid one of the best albums of the ’90s. Sixteen years later, it’s hard to disagree. From the opening strains of “Out To Get You” to the last haunting notes of the sprawling, ambient “Skindiving”, there isn’t a bad track in this collection. Moreover, the album sounds as vibrant today as the day of its release. A career peak for an underrated band, Laid proved that it was still possible to make intelligent, accessible pop music.

As an up and coming musician, Rafter dabbled in both songwriting and production, working with the likes of Black Heart Procession and Rocket From the Crypt. Along the way, he amassed a treasure trove of musical influences (punk, indie, electronic) all of which he marshaled to great effect on a string of releases beginning with 2008’s well-received, Sweaty Magic. A prolific musician, Rafter also played guitar in the indie band Bunky and recorded with psychedelic folk band the Castanets.

On his fourth release for Asthmatic Kitty Records, Rafter crafts a heady, yet intimate set of songs shot through with sly humor. These 11 songs add up to an album that is at turns funky (“Paper”), anthemic (the catchy titular track) and soulful (“Feels Good”). Album opener “No F**king Around” is a slinky slice of R&B, complete with a chorus that’s beautifully mangled by a talk box. Handclap happy lead single “Fruit” – which chronicles Rafter’s courtship of his wife – shuffles along on a chugging beat and the lusty chorus “I know you love me/will you share your fruit with me?” Meanwhile, “A Frame” features insistent percussion and dissonant harmony in its slightly daffy chorus.

Next is the stomping title track, which cranks and churns through its four and a half minutes like a romping, charging animal. Throughout, trippy sonic effects swirl around Rafter as he sings about “Animal feelings and animal thoughts.”

Album highlight “Paper” is a jaunty, calypso-like song that would be perfectly radio-friendly were it not for the profane chorus at the heart of the song: “You motherf***ers, You motherf***ers where did you go.” It’s no exaggeration to say that this is the moment on Animal Feelings that sears itself onto your consciousness and resolutely refuses to leave.

Elsewhere on this easygoing, yet musically challenging album, “Timeless Form, Formless Time” (sample lyric: “get your ass out on the floor,” goes one lyric) doubles as a funky, dancefloor-ready tune and a tribute to time well spent with the one you love (“You’re my girl/and I love my girl”). Brash trumpets propel the song’s stop-start rhythm.

As the album winds to a close, the sonically harsh “Love Makes You Happy” praises love’s ability to brighten even the darkest day; but it’s not without some cynicism (“Love makes you happy/when it’s not making you sad.”) And quick to follow, album closer “Beauty, Beauty” is a cacophonous and raucous exhortation to “live in the moment/live in the now,” replete with trumpets and snatches of spoken word. It’s a fitting end to this eccentric collection.

As Animal Feelings wraps up, it feels as though we’ve just listened to an album-long manifesto. But the 11-song collection is never bullying and always accessible. Altogether, Rafter has created an eclectic collection of songs that still manage to cohere into one enjoyable whole. How about that?

Check Out:
“Paper”

On his debut release, A Strange Arrangement, Cohen – who also records straight ahead hip-hop under the Haircut moniker – sports a soulful falsetto and earnest, lovelorn lyrics. For a man who began recording classic soul music as a joke, his performance of it on his debut sounds completely sincere, if derivative. Cohen has clearly been influenced by such soul greats as Al Green, Curtis Mayfield, and The Temptations. In fact, if there’s a knock on his work, it’s that it’s too easy to spot his influences. Listeners find themselves reacting to every song, not on its own terms, but based on what song or artist it recalls (“Your Easy Lovin’ Ain’t Pleasin’ Nothin’” reminds of The Supremes’ “Can’t Hurry Love”; “I Wish It Would Rain” recalls “Tears of a Clown”; etc.).

Cohen had been performing as part of the groups AthleticMic and Now On when he decided to record songs in the Motown mold for his family and friends. Before long, however, his recordings found the ears of Peanut Butter Wolf, head of LA-based indie hip-hop label Stones Throw Records. Wolf thought he was hearing the unreleased work of some 70s soul legend, not tunes created by a preppy, bespectacled white kid from Ann Arbor, Michigan.

Soon Cohen was signed to Stones Throw, and releasing his debut single, the blue-eyed soul confection “Just Ain’t Gonna Work Out” in late 2008. Featuring sweet, soulful harmonies, the song sounds like it could have come out of 1969. His full-length debut followed in September of 2009. Over the 12-song set, Cohen creates a breezy, nostalgic mood. At times, though, it feels as if we’re just getting to know the songs before they end; the average song length is just three minutes.

The album begins with a 30-second barbershop quartet-style harmony that segues into the piano-driven title track. The shuffling rhythm recalls The Stylistics and other 70′s soul groups. Standout track “Maybe So, Maybe No” contains elements of classic Philly soul (lively trumpets and searing harmonies), as well as a beat that bridges old school soul with the skittering, unexpected rhythms of hip-hop.

Elsewhere, the opening riff of “Make Her Mine” blatantly rips off, not one, but two soul classics: The Impressions’ 1965 hit “People Get Ready” and William DeVaughn’s “Be Thankful for What You’ve Got.” The rest of the album continues in much the same vein, until the songs become indistinguishable from one another. The exception is the sultry “Green Eyed Love,” whose smoky groove becomes palpable as the song unfolds over its four minutes.

At just over a half hour in length, Arrangement provides a perfect, if ephemeral introduction to Cohen’s work. He wrote all but one of the songs and played most of the instruments heard on the album. And Cohen’s voice is sincere and earnest enough to pull off his brand of neo-soul. The album concludes with the sweet ballad “Shiny and New” (and yes, it’s very reminiscent of The Stylistics’ “You Make Me Feel Brand New”). It’s a fitting end to such an easy-going album. But as the final notes play, one can’t help wishing the album had a bit more heft.

In the decade since releasing their Mercury Prize-winning debut Bring It On, they’ve released five more critically acclaimed albums. With multiple lead singers and songwriters, Gomez has crafted a sound that’s eclectic, frequently moving between pop, rock, and bluesy lo-fi.

Extensive touring Gomez has molded the five-man band into one of rock music’s most potent live acts. In this performance from 2009’s SXSW Festival, the quintet transforms their melodic, yet hard-charging 2006 single “How We Operate” into an epic seven-and-a-half minute jam, complete with a mammoth guitar freak out at the end.

In 2006, they released their fourth studio album, and their first on Dave Matthews’ ATO label. At the time of its release, critics hailed the album How We Operate for its focus and explosive sound. The title track – which may be familiar to US audiences from its appearance in an episode of the television show Grey’s Anatomy – serves as a something of a microcosm of that album’s energetic, yet intimate feel.

The song is also a fan favorite on the road. This rendition begins with handclaps, raucous audience accompaniment and singer Ben Ottwell’s a cappella vocal. Soon, the band launches into a crush of guitar, drum, and bass. “Please come here/come right on over/and when we collide/we’ll see what gets left over,” Ottwell sings in his raspy croon. He’s joined in harmony by one of the band’s other lead singers, Ian Ball.

The song moves into its second verse, and Ball makes his guitar playing grittier and more forceful. The band cranks a stop-start call and response rhythm midway through the second verse. Things go (somewhat) quiet during the bridge, before kinetic guitars come in again.

As the song winds down, the band rides a two-minute guitar freakout to a killer climax. The audience’s chagrin as the band leaves the stage testifies to the band’s power as a live act.

From the first jangly notes of “Daddy Learned to Fly”, the Truckers’ trademark three-guitar attack grabs the listener. With churning guitars and Hood’s world-weary vocals, the songs throughout To-Do are at turns rousing, irreverent and bittersweet. Standout track “The First Night of My Drinking” chronicles one man’s very long bender with such memorable lyrics as “On the second night of my drinkin’/I was looking for my car/and as luck would have it, I found it parked outside my bar.” The delivery is sardonic, but the story Hood tells through his lyrics (“I was headed for a fall”) and the mournful guitar at the song’s bridge, make it clear this tale won’t end well for its protagonist.

Stream-of-consciousness lyrics, dissonant guitar and a shuffling beat punctuate the noir-like “The Wig He Made Her Wear”, which deals with a God-less man of the cloth and the vengeful wife who takes revenge on him (“Everyone was shocked at the scene of the crime/she’d taken the kids across two state lines”).

Hood continues his penchant for sympathizing with the working stiff on the hard charging (and aptly titled) “This F***ing Job” (“Working this job is like a knife in the back…It ain’t getting’ me farther for all my strivin’”). A better anthem for these recessionary times will be hard to find.

The band switches gears on the ballad “You Got Another”. The lovelorn song begins with romantic plucks of the piano before Tucker contributes a lead vocal and trades gentle harmonies with Hood (“You got another and you’ll go to her”).

Likewise, on the album closer “Eyes Like Glue”, a father talks ruefully to his young son (“Your eyes are stuck like glue to every foolish thing I say and do”). The track is earnest and sentimental without being saccharine, a truly poignant end to an album of startling power and beauty.

The songwriting throughout this album is both conversational and profound; while the music behind it all is at turns rollicking, quirky, confrontational and heartfelt. Fans of their previous work won’t be disappointed.

The track is one of the few instances in Eminem’s career where he makes an explicit political statement. No doubt, he’d done his share of snarky social commentary on songs like “We Made You” and “Lose Yourself”, but “Mosh” marked his first foray into current political events.

Almost as important as the song’s message is its music. Known for intricate production and lightning-fast vocal delivery, Eminem slows things to a dirge-like crawl on “Mosh”. The song’s musical landscape is bleak and martial. It opens with a chorus of children’s voices reciting the Pledge of Allegiance before segueing into a plodding rhythm. Throughout, Eminem unleashes the force of his rage, but this time his target is dysfunctional government instead of dysfunctional family.

On the chorus Em commands, “Come along follow me as I lead through the darkness/As I provide just enough spark that we need to proceed.” At one point, he rails, “F*** Bush.”

“Mosh’s” accompanying video fits the song perfectly. The animated clip features a series of vignettes showing average people being crushed under unfair policies (in one scene, a just-returned army veteran learns he’s set to be redeployed). Galvanized, each person joins Eminem’s army (“We gonna fight, we gonna charge, we gonna stomp, we gonna march/Through the swamp, we gonna mosh through the marsh/Take us right through the doors”).

An alternate version of the video was released after Bush won the 2004 election. This time, it featured a crowd rushing the U.S. Capitol during Bush’s State of the Union address.

“Mosh” stands out as one of Eminem’s most thought-provoking songs. Making a forceful (and in some ways unexpected) political statement, Em proved his lyrics could move beyond the myopia of his own life. In doing so, he produced a blistering political critique and call to arms.

The ten-year break between 2000’s critically acclaimed Lovers Rock and her latest, Soldier of Love, has not dulled Sade and her band’s creative edge. Her voice is still as sensual and evocative as ever, and the band -– guitarist Stuart Matthewman, keyboardist Andrew Hale, and bassist Paul Denman -– has expanded its sound, incorporating elements of folk and trip hop. Working with longtime producer Mike Pela, Sade has created a collection of songs about love and longing that deserves to take its place next to Sade’s finest work.

Typical of Sade’s work, Soldier.. is comprised of mellow ballads, acoustic guitar-driven tunes, and one or two uptempo songs. The album opens with the ballad “Moon and the Sky”, a longing lament punctuated by mournful guitar picking and piercing harmonies. “You’ll always know/the reason why/we couldn’t have/the moon and the sky,” Sade sings, effortlessly drawing the listener into the world of her story.

Lead single and title track “Soldier of Love” proves a stunning reintroduction to the band. A stark solo trumpet heralds the beginning of the song before a heavy martial beat arrives. Sade sings of persevering in spite of lost love. “I’ve lost the use of my heart/But I’m still alive…I’m at the borderline of my faith/I’m at the hinterland of my devotion.” The feel of the song recall’s Sade’s own “King of Sorrow” (from Lovers Rock), but sonically, it’s unlike anything in her catalog.

Throughout the album, Sade and her band flesh out their sound in a variety of ways. “Morning Bird” features an elegiac, piano-driven opening that then transitions into Sade’s yearning vocal. On “In Another Time”, a soulful horn figure saunters through the middle of the song as Sade sings, “In another time, girl/your tears won’t leave a trace.”

“Bring Me Home” is one of the album’s upbeat tracks. Featuring a trip-hop beat, the song deals with spirituality with lyrics like “The smallest step I need to take is like a mountain stretched out like a lazy dog.” As with all of Sade’s lyrics, the simplest words convey complex emotions.

A story of love and parenthood, “Babyfather” boasts a reggae beat and joyous children’s choir, while the sleek, lounge-ready “Skin” is a quiet kiss-off (“Now as I begin/to was you off my skin/I wanna peel you away/cuz you’re not right within”).

The album ends where it began, with reference to staying the course for the sake of love on the album closing “The Safest Place” (“My heart has been the lonely warrior/In my heart, your love has found the safest hiding place”). In the world of Sade, love is king, even –- or perhaps, especially –- when it’s wrecking you.

Buy:
Soldier of Love