What a way we’ve come from Happenstance. Following up her striking debut album from nearly four years ago, Rachael Yamagata has returned to the scene with her collection Elephants…Teeth Sinking Into The Heart. The album is really a two-part collection: The first ten tracks, comprising Elephants, are slower, pondering drifters that comprised much of what we came to know through Happenstance. The last five songs comprise the stunning collection of …Teeth Sinking Into Heart, a rocky explosion of carnal, vindicated energy that comprised my futile dreams for what Kelly Clarkson‘s self-penned album should have sounded like.

There’s also the tender duet with Indie recluse, Ray LaMontagne. The track is so thoroughly stripped and intimate, the two artists might as well be performing at the listener’s side. Yamagata’s voice seems to have matured, maintaining an androgynous, Pink-like dose of rasp throughout the album. The stand away from the pack here is the soaring “Sunday Afternoon,” a ten minute foray through a forest of ambient air, longing strings, and marching beats, building mechanically to crashing heights: “I wont live for you, or die for you, do anything anymore for you, because you leave me here on the other side,” Yamagata climatically seethes, before the song drops out into its gorgeous, melancholy finish. The Country-tinged “Over And Over” is briefly mezmerizing, as the lonely twang of the guitar melds with a repetitive, aching chorus of “Over and over, and over and over again…Let it rain, let it rain.” The soundtrack to a rainy night’s drive home, for sure.

Much of Elephants moves slightly above a snail’s pace, so when the grinding guitar of “Sidedish Friend” comes rippling into the atmosphere with its confident intensity, it offers a welcome balance to the moody first half of the album. “Accident” comes in, unapologetically catchy, bends the twanginess of “Over and Over” into an all out bar-crashing, Western shoot-em-’up. “Faster” is an incredible moment on Teeth, as Yamagata growls atop a clapping, stomping rocky crunch, “I’m going faster, you’re going backwards, you’re gonna miss me when I’m gone.” The taunting, “da-da-da” middle eight of the track is a brilliant moment, oozing cockiness and confidence previously unimagined by the aritst. The only disappointment that Teeth closes when it does, as I could have listened to that album for another ten tracks or more.

An entirely fulfilling follow-up to her debut, Elephants….Teeth Sinking Into Heart, Yamagata offers both signature style and unexpected new tricks, proving that we’ve not heard all that the artist has to offer. The album is a wonderful accomplishment for its genre this year, and perhaps one of the finest.

Be sure to check out Rachael’s site here, and go to iTunes to buy the record.

DL: Rachael Yamagata – Over And Over
DL: Rachael Yamagata – Elephants
DL: Rachael Yamagata – Sidedish Friend
DL: Rachael Yamagata – Accident

Here we go again: The 25th Video Music Awards, the annual celebration of self-indulgence that only continues to lower our expectations with each coming year.

This year, we were treated to host Russell Brand, a lesser known English trash-talking personality. Kicking off with what was surely the most political monologue of the award show’s history, Brand pleaded for the audience to vote for Obama while scolding America for electing “that retarted cowboy fellow.” Thanks for the input, Englishman…Very influential. For anyone who didn’t see it, the humorless, shout-happy series of awkward statements unfolded like a Sarah Silverman performance missing the funny.

That however, was not Brand’s finest hour, which was actually the two remaining hours spent harping on the promise rings worn by the Jonas Brothers. When I say two, I mean it—each time the man was given an opportunity to speak, he took a jab, the insults growing worse each time. It was no surprise then that the audience erupted in loud cheers when Jordin Sparks decided to break from her speech and defend her own ring, declaring: “I just have one thing to say about promise rings. It’s not bad to wear promise rings…Not everybody wants to be a slut.” Overgeneralization? Surely. Deserved? Absolutely.

As for the performances, most were generally sub-par: Rihanna’s opening “Thriller”-esque rip-off made her forgettable as always, T-Pain and Lil’ Wayne were far less than inspiring, and Kanye West’s final smoke-and-lights moment left me rather unfulfilled. Some even bombed, namely Katy “Ur So Gay” Perry and her hideously bland rendition of “Like a Virgin.” I have just one question to ask you, Ms. Perry: Is that a banana on your shoulder, or are you just completely untalented?

The rocker chicks generally fared better: Pink pulled out a rather fierce rendition of her snotty kiss-off track, “So What?” with the help of pyrotechnics and breakaway glass, while Paramore kept true to form while performing their endlessly catchy single, “Misery Business.”

I’ll even award some modest golf claps to Christina Aguilera for fitting that pin-up friendly bosom into a form-fitting, futuristic PVC outfit (which, by the way, was rather “Toxic” of you, Miss Aguilera) while performing an electro-tinged rendition of her “classic” “Genie In A Bottle” along with her new single, “Keeps Getting Better.”

The actual awards went by (as they often do) greatly unnoticed, though one of the most genuine moments came when German pop-rockers Tokio Hotel scored a miraculous win over their competition, including Miley Cyrus. As the group trotted up to the stage and sputtered out their acceptance speech in broken English, few could help but coo at their adorable bout of breathless gratitude.

However, as we all know, this night was truly about my queen; my dearly damaged damsel, Miss Britney Spears. Didn’t she look stunning? Even some uninterested viewers around me forked over some halfhearted kudos once she appeared. While she didn’t perform, she never had to: Britney Spears makes the VMA’s. She smiled and looked pretty, walking away with her first, second, and third Moon Man of her career, all while awarding the haters a well deserved “Fuck You” for counting her out in the first place. Some are angered by Brit’s triple victory, and I certainly agree…I mean, shouldn’t the award go to a more established, credible artist such as Katy Perry or Miley Cyrus?

Exactly. Get over it. The VMA’s have been as dead as their hosting network for years.

After all, this year’s show will be remembered for nothing, except for the moment when Britney finally brought her sexy back.

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Photo credits:
#1: Photo by Jordan Strauss/WireImage.com
#2: MTV/Getty Images
#3: UntouchableBritney.net

I just cannot get excited about this. How come? I usually love Pink!

I think I’ve grown a little tired of her too-cool-for-this-record attitude. You know, blowing raspberries at the end of songs and all the obnoxious “na na na”-ing. The soft-core defiance act is growing just a bit too grating for me to handle. Sure, it’s a strong tune and a rocking chorus…but I feel like I’m listening to Radio Disney. Et tu, Miley?

I’m fairly certain I stand alone on this one. How utterly lonesome.

Opening up with a mockish piano ballad, Alicia “P!nk” Moore quickly drives a stake into her momentary bout of sweet with a whining declaration of, “Ahh…Fuck it!” on top of a kicked up drum beat. It’s classic Pink, impatient as always. Much like her fantastical faux-rap “Cuz I Can,” P!nk takes the piss out of herself with sex panting and sarcastic lyrics (“50 Cent said we could all lick his lollipop / He’s gonna take us to the candy shop!”) If this is consistent with her direction on the follow up to 2006′s I’m Not Dead, then we’re in for another solid album.

Then there’s “Can’t Help It,” a Kelly Clarksonesque, headstrong mid-tempo ode. It’s tomboyish and predictable…Not terribly exciting or new. If this is consistent with her direction on the follow up to 2006′s I’m Not Dead, then we’re in for a rather safe album.