Sugary girl groups have a history stretching back into the 1940s, but never have a collection of females produced something as urgent, ominous, and intoxicating as Dum Dum Girls’ debut full-length, I Will Be. Filled with ruminations on bubblegum pop and scuzzy lo-fi rock, the album veers between veiled mid-century innocence on “Jail La La” and hazy sludge on “Oh Mein Me,” but reverb-heavy backing vocals, chirpy guitars, and steady, no-nonsense drums dominate throughout. And the best part of Dum Dum Girls is epitomized by their black leather-wearing frontwoman Dee Dee, who says in the album’s press release, “It’s really bizarre living in Southern California… You’re miserable in the sun because you’re stuck. Like, it’s so perfect that it’s overwhelming and depressing.”

That oppressive quality translates perfectly on the slow, snaking “Rest Of Your Lives,” which draws comparisons to British country-blues goddess Holly Golightly. But the upbeat nature of “Yours Alone,” “Everybody’s Out,” and “It Only Take One Night” draws the album back into lovably sloppy punk territory, with the latter song coming off as downright propulsive and dangerous. I Will Be’s title track takes a swirling journey into L.A.’s noir-ish underbelly, “Lines Her Eyes” features quaking tambourines backing Dee Dee’s undulating vocals, and “Bhang Bhang, I’m A Burnout” is a chiming ode to psychedelics, before album closer “Baby Don’t Go” gets ethereal and downright ghost-like.

Much of that atmosphere comes from the expert production of Richard Gottehrer, who penned classic 1960s girl-group tracks “My Boyfriend’s Back” and “I Want Candy” before producing albums for Blondie, The Go-Go’s, Link Wray, and The Raveonettes. According to Dee Dee, “I’m not exactly sure what [Gottehrer] did, but it’s a world of difference. The songs sound warm, and they kind of sparkle.” But really, it’s Dum Dum Girls’ songwriting and spot-on mid-fi performance style that makes I Will Be shine. Women making music is nothing new, but cranking it out on the superb level of Dum Dum Girls is another accomplishment altogether. By Nick McGregor

Los Angeles trio Year Long Disaster have quite the resume: guitarist and singer Daniel Davies is the son of The Kinks star Dave Davies; bassist Rich Mullins played with renowned stoner metal band Karma To Burn; and drummer Brad Hargreaves hails from the unlikely roots of Third Eye Blind. YLD have returned with their sophomore effort, Black Magic: All Mysteries Revealed, picking up where they left off on their debut self-titled release with their take on ‘70s and ‘80s-style hard rock tinged with bluesy riffs and Southern soul.

This time around, Year Long Disaster trade in their authentic, fuzzy, and muddled production quality for a noticeably refined and polished sound, which may prevent them from achieving what fans appreciated about their down ‘n’ dirty music in the first place. Taking notes and inspiration from the Russian novel The Master And The Margarita, YLD take a stab at deeper and darker spiritual lyricism, even though the music on their sophomore release comes off as a cross between The Cult, ZZ Top, and Led Zeppelin, with the lead singer of Ratt at the helm. All of which is not what one would expect from an album with such an ominous title. Rather than dark, hard-rocking devil music, expectations should be set at either construction-site boombox material or the theme song to a villain driving a Corvette in a bad ‘80s movie.

Tracks like “Cyclone” and “Love Like Blood” rock with Volcom surf-video soundtrack familiarity, while “Seven Of Swords” and “She Told Us All” teeter on the verge of being full-blown ballads. It’s not that Black Magic: All Mysteries Revealed doesn’t have rocking moments, because it does — deep grooving bass lines, metal-friendly riffs, bombastic drums and all. In fact, Lemmy Kilmister from Motorhead said at one point, “Year Long Disaster plays rock ‘n’ roll music the way rock ‘n’ roll music should be played.” There’s no better recommendation than that, but unfortunately, Black Magic comes across as music out of the past with no real progression towards something original. By Pete Viele

I listened to Sweet Sister yesterday after leaving my brother at Raleigh/Durham International Airport without the slightest idea that the guys and girls in Annuals were from Raleigh. Mon, I could have met up with them for a sammy or a salad or something. That being said, this band is sweet — the kind of sweetness I want to bottle up and dip organic nuts in. I’m a fan of these guys mainly for their theology, because they’ve discovered a perfect little secret about success. 

J.D. Salinger was a college dropout. He tried to sell hams in the family business and, for the most part, was somewhat despised by his peers. He used to walk around the campus of Columbia wearing robes, berets, and paisley scarves, telling everyone that he was going to write the Great American Novel. He did, and it changed a lot of people’s lives. 

So anyway, the members of Annuals dress a lot like Holden Caulfield. Tweed jackets with elbow patches. A very educated-looking bunch. They sound like the dreams of a Hampton-born pony that is never hassled by the troubles of reality. Yet their music is a little too soft for me; it walls in a no-man’s-zone between singer/songwriter fare and too many people in unison creating too little music as a result. Sweet Sister is a pleasant pony, dreaming of oat eating and honeysuckle-munching. But Annuals know the secret — dress like Holden and maintain a look of self-defining solace, along with an air of righteousness. Then, people will consider your output high art. We all walk in different ruts or upon higher paths, and Annuals are by no means the worst band I’ve heard in the last two days. In fact, I wouldn’t mind sharing a vegan carrot hot dog with them next time I’m in the Research Triangle. By William Port Whales

Kenan Bell’s debut album Until The Future begins with the phrase “You never heard something like this before,” and although that’s a bold claim, Bell’s combination of intelligent hip-hop rhymes, understated indie-rock hooks, and mash-up sensibility does come off as refreshingly cool in this irony-drenched decade. A 4th- though 6th-grade teacher over the last four years, Bell was eventually goaded into laying his journal entries down over music by childhood friends Jason Burkhard and Jon Siebels, former guitarist for Eve 6.

And although his vocals have a halfhearted Kanye West quality to them, Kenan Bell still hits a few lyrical home runs, especially on the industry tutorial “Chlo.” Unfortunately, that gem is tarnished by a clichéd “Throw your hands in the air” chorus, but the space-funk ballad “Mind Games” marks another winner for Bell. “Sounds Awesome” boasts a junk collector’s beat dream, “Hold Still” combines handclaps and xylophones over a wicked verse, and “Good Day” pushes Nintendo’s 8-bit blips and bloops into outer space.

Throughout Until The Future, Bell’s wordplay gets better and better, peaking on the intense “Enjoy” and continuing on the bombastic “Brothers & Sisters,” which sets a solid example for young listeners: “Do it for the kids/Touch on the bigger picture/No showing out in clothes that don’t fit ya/No you can’t touch me like I was a stripper.” It’s a message that seems unpopular and even old-fashioned, but one the hip-hop world direly needs. In that sense, maybe Kenan Bell’s Until The Future is something we’ve never heard before. –NM