Darediablo

If ghostwriting and hands-on hit making ever become as de rigueur in the world of mainstream rock as they are in hip-hop, NYC’s Darediablo stands to rake in some serious coin. Feeding Frenzy sounds less like standard issue bracing, overintellectualized Southern Records fare than it does the guitar-drums-keyboards equivalent of one of Kanye West’s beats-for-sale CD-Rs. Somewhere, an A&R rep at Geffen should be drooling over this. Need some accessible, quasi-speed-metal riffage for a nü-metal debut? Check out “Behold the Panther Store.” Looking for a dash of ’60s revivalist flavor to liven up an otherwise staid set of Radiohead-derivative songs? Option “The Rig.” Frenzy is music flawlessly executed, largely bloodless and faceless. There’s nobody manning the microphone, so this disc is surprisingly malleable: easy for a listener to mentally make into something more complex and compelling, easy to picture blaring in commercials and video games, easy to forget altogether once the stop button has been pressed.