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USE THIS BLOG TO POST: Music Reviews |
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ARTIST: Elvis Costello SONG/ALBUM: Painted From Memory GENRE: Pop RATING: 7
At first, it seems like a forced pairing. Here is Burt Bacharach, the tuxedo-wearing pinnacle of cool, poised next to the ever-geeky Elvis Costello. But in case we need a reminder that appearances don't matter, that message comes through loud and clear on Painted From Memory: The New Songs of Bacharach and Costello. But set aside their superficial differences and it's obvious how much sense this musical partnership makes. Among contemporary artists, only Costello's soaring melodicism could come close to matching Bacharach's best work from the '60s and '70s, when his inventively sophisticated tunes ruled the charts. Here, their newly co-written songs evoke all the restrained passion of that earlier era. "I Still Have That Other Girl" bears an uncanny resemblance to classic Bacharach / Hal David material, while "This House Is Empty" could be a lyrical descendent of "A House Is Not A Home." But it's the final track, "God Give Me Strength," that supplies the most breathtaking moment¾a tour de force of brilliant pop songwriting and gut-wrenching singing. If this song doesn't make your heart pound, you might not have a pulse. Posted October 20, 2006 8:30 AM | | |
ARTIST: Jimmy Buffett SONG/ALBUM: Take the Weather With You GENRE: Rock RATING: 7
So, what have here is an artist with impeccable, adventurous, catholic taste in music, a guy who writes the meanest, leanest pop songs this side of the equator, a supernatural assimilator who takes in every note he’s ever heard – rock country, reggae, blues, anything – and sends it back out fresh and new in music everyone knows is his and only his. You know he’s scary smart, but his real genius is to make you believe he’s just like you. He’s got charisma, sure. But you just got to shake your head in wonder at the quality of the talent, the way the words and melodies come so fast, so perfectly put together, whether he’s writing elegant love songs or sea-faring ballads or funny, exquisitely escapist tunes about booze, beaches and assorted babes.
Jimmy Buffett doesn’t get a lot of respect for what he does so well, especially from the critics, who can’t seem to get past the whole Parrothead thing. But he’s been critic-proof for more than 30 years now, so who cares. Now in his 50s, with dozens of albums to his credit, he still records and tours at a pace that makes him among the most prolific and active artists in pop music. His latest, Take the Weather With You, stands up against his best, delivering a blend of bright, new Buffett originals with a cool collection of offbeat covers written by the likes of Merle Haggard, Guy Clark, Mark Knopfler, Neil & Tim Finn, and Gillian Welch & David Rawlings.
The album sticks to closely to the successful formula that has marked Buffett’s best work since the 1970s. But nobody does the “Beaches-Bars-Boats-and-Ballads” thing better. Here, he sings the communal praises of a friendly Alabama haunt (“Bama Breeze”) tangos his way through an uncertain night in Tierra del Fuego (in the original “Party at the End of the World”) and chills out at a cool Hawaiian beach party (“Dukes on Sunday”). He puts an island spin on the Finn brothers’ Crowded House gem “Weather With You,” revels in the crossroads catharsis of Clark’s “Cinco de Mayo in Memphis” and riffs on the King himself in Welch & Rawling’s ride-the-rails classic “Elvis Presley Blues.”
There are some cool surprises, too, including an island-meets-the-sky gospel number called “Regabilly Hill,” written by Michael Garrett, and a Buffett/Matt Betton original called “Breath In, Breathe Out, Move On” that doubles as a prayer for Hurricane Katrina-ravaged New Orleans. Posted October 19, 2006 8:52 PM | | |
ARTIST: Teitur SONG/ALBUM: Stay Under The Stars GENRE: Alternative RATING: 7
“You wouldn’t notice me, I have a tendency to blend with the music,” Teitur sings on his second album, the follow-up to 2003’s acclaimed Poetry & Aeroplanes. It’s a revealing line. With his wool sweaters and bedhead hair, this 24-year old looks more like an unassuming graduate student than a pop musician. And he doesn’t rely on attitude or affectations to get his message across.
His message is one that belongs to rainy days and acoustic guitars. Cups of tea and quiet conversations. And of course, matters of the heart. That Teitur (pronounced Tie-Tor) is a romantic is apparent from the opening track, “Don’t Want You To Wake Up,” when he coos, “Stay under the stars / where no one can make us change what we are.” But he also knows how difficult it is to keep the stars shining in a relationship, as he details on “You Get Me” and the lilting waltz, “All My Mistakes.”
Other notable cuts: “Louis Louis” twists a classic song title into a tribute to Satchmo, while the one cover on the album is a live performance of a moody, string-drenched take on “Great Balls Of Fire.” It’s like Jerry Lee Lewis meets Erik Satie.
Teitur may be a bit of wallflower, but his music makes for a fine traveling companion for late night drives and rainy Sunday afternoons. Posted October 19, 2006 9:06 AM | | |
ARTIST: Phoenix SONG/ALBUM: It's Never Been Like That GENRE: Alternative RATING: 6
For their third album, Phoenix must’ve posted a “No more blue-eyed soul” sign in the studio. The cool, minty twist on R & B that this French quartet brought to brilliant singles like “Everything Is Everything” and “If I Ever Feel Better” has been bartered for the slouching, sloppier style of the Strokes. I don’t know much French, but my one word response to this change is: “Pourquoi?”
I’m all for bands stretching and pushing against their own musical frontiers, but aping rumpled garage rock poseurs seems like a misstep for Phoenix. That said, the good news is that they don’t fully succeed in their quest to become Les Strokes.
Try as they might to suppress their funky ebullience, it bubbles up through the grimy guitars and lo-fi production. It’s there in the joie de vivre that blows through “Consolation Prizes” and the stuttering hook on “Rally.” And when the chorus of “Long Distance Call” bursts forth, the real Technicolor soul of Phoenix is revealed. They are an AM radio loving pop group with a knack for sweet melodies, smooth Philly-style chord changes and quirky robotic grooves. Not a garage punk band.
Here’s hoping that for their next record, Phoenix rise from the ashes of this failed experiment and embrace their inner Daryl Hall again. Posted October 16, 2006 4:52 PM | | |
ARTIST: Persephone's Bees SONG/ALBUM: Notes from the Underworld GENRE: Alternative RATING: 6
First, class, let us have a brief lesson in Greek mythology. Persephone, you will recall, has the dubious but rather hip honor of being the goddess of the underworld. She rose (or descended, if you prefer) to this position because the Bronze Age devil himself, Hades, took a fancy to her, kidnapping the poor daughter of Zeus while she was picking posies on the plain of Enna. This did not sit well with Persephone’s mom, Demeter, goddess of the harvest, who threatened to turn the Earth into her own Depression Dust Bowl unless Hades let her daughter go. Knowing that hell hath no fury like a mistress scorned, Zeus pulled rank and forced Hades to release Persephone. Things might have ended happily there, but silly Persephone got the munchies on the long trip back to Earth and ate a pomegranate given to her by Hades. For some great Greek mythical reason, this meant she was bound to the underworld forever and had to spend three months a year in hell. During her daughter’s yearly absences, Demeter pouted, refusing to let anything grow. Viola! Winter was born! Now, that we’ve got that little bit of history out of the way, we can address the question of Persephone’s Bees, a new Bay Area alternative-rock quartet fronted by go-go-goth lead vocalist Angelina Moysov. The Russian ex-pat fancies herself a post-modern pop Persephone, walking the ironic line between light and the dark and melody and dissonance in the band’s debut album, Notes from the Underworld. Of course, this is nothing new in pop music. Bands from the Rolling Stones to Nirvana to Green Day have been working the territory between the mainstream and the underground. But Moysov does a good job of putting her own gypsy spin on the formula, with guitarist Tom Ayres, bassist Bart Davenport and drummer Paul Bertolino adding heavy-rock-meets-punk sting to the arrangements. There is a surrealistic, rockin’ Kurt Weill vibe in many of the tunes, including the oddball love song, “Way to Your Heart,” and the sarcastic ode to materialism, “Climbing.” The pop-meets-punk fusion reaches critical mass on “Paper Plane,” and the surf-meets-Red Square ditty, “Muzika Dlya Fil’ma,” while “Walk on the Moon” puts Mikhail Bulgakov’s classic Russian novel, “Master and Marguarita,” in which the Devil pays a visit to the godless Soviet Union, into an engaging, anthemic, pop-music context. We know. It all sounds a bit much for a pop group. But it works somehow, never veering into eye-rolling pseudo-pop poetry or faux intellectualism. Hum along Hades. Posted October 14, 2006 11:01 AM | | |
ARTIST: Nouvelle Vague SONG/ALBUM: Bande A Part GENRE: Alternative RATING: 7
Imagine a cruise ship that’s wending its way down the coast of South America. The house band has a curious set list, one that willfully neglects all musical decades except the 1980s, and even more specifically, the darker bands of that era. They draw deep from the angst-ridden songs of Echo & The Bunnymen (“The Killing Moon”), the Buzzcocks (“Ever Fallen In Love?”), the Cramps (“Human Fly”) and Bauhaus (“Bela Lugosi’s Dead”), and reinvent them as svelte, bossa nova-flavored chansons. It’s retro futurism at its most seductive.
Unlikely as it may seem, that house band exists. The brainchild of French duo Marc Collin and Olivier Libaux, Nouvelle Vague have taken what might seem a contrived and kitschy concept and made it into something fresh. Collin and Libaux’s loungey arrangements provide a vibrant springboard for the bewitching vocals of Melanie Pain and Phoebe Killdeer, both who sound very breathy and very French. If ABBA had come from Paris, they might’ve been like this.
It’s not only obscure 80s bands they cover. U2’s “Pride In The Name Of Love” and Billy Idol’s “Dancing With Myself” get reassembled into fizzy concoctions that allow you to appreciate them anew.
Nouvelle Vague means, appropriately, new wave. And lest you forget, it was the French who invented the term. It seems only right that they’ve come to reclaim it. Posted October 13, 2006 10:07 AM | | |
ARTIST: Johnny Cash SONG/ALBUM: Johnny Cash V: A Hundred Highways GENRE: Folk RATING: 8
On the last album he made, Johnny Cash's voice is warbly and wavery -- and actually pretty wonderful -- though by the time the last cut rolls around, it does get a little samey-samey sounding. Still, that can be said of many albums, and it’s a tribute to Johnny that this one doesn’t get boring despite its stripped-down, balladic nature. If anything, its starkness gives it more power.
Like the other Rick Rubin-produced albums, Johnny Cash V: A Hundred Highways employs Cash’s voice on a variety of covers. He delivers Gordon Lightfoot’s “If You Could Read My Mind” with a take that’s far more intriguing than the original. His version of the traditional gospel tune, “God’s Gonna Cut You Down,” most recently repopularized by Moby, has a completely different – and more disarmingly direct – feel than Moby’s also fine, choir- and effects-laden version. Cash knew he was nearing the end of his life as he recorded this, weakened by diabetes, asthma, the loss of his wife, June, and time. Yet he fearlessly, even humorously, took on the subject in songs like his own “Like the 309,” in which he sings, “It should be a while before I see Dr. Death/so it would sure be nice if I could get my breath.” Despite the oxygen he had to suck between takes, there’s no evidence in his vocals that he couldn’t. Bruce Springsteen’s lyrics in “Further On Up the Road” seem to take on new meaning when coming out of Cash’s mouth as a hymn, while Hank Williams’ “On the Evening Train” also makes an impact. “I pray that God will give me courage/to carry on/till we meet again,” he intones. “It’s hard to know/she’s gone forever/they’re carrying her home/on the evening train.”
Though they're covers, these selections seem incredibly personal. It’s as if Cash had a last chance to lay bare all of his emotions, including his grief over June's death, and took full advantage of the opportunity. But most of all, Johnny Cash V exudes dignity – the dignity of a man whose physical body may have lost something, but whose soul grew even stronger as it got ready to depart. Posted October 11, 2006 2:28 PM | | |
ARTIST: Frank Sinatra SONG/ALBUM: In The Wee Small Hours GENRE: Pop RATING: 9
It’s 3 am. You lie awake, staring at the ceiling, watching replays of a familiar movie. It’s the one where you lose the girl. Not just the girl, but the love of your life. And now there’s nothing to do but to regret and wish for a second chance.
Frank Sinatra understands. In 1955, he was watching the same movie, having broken off with the love of his life, Ava Gardner. Translating his personal pain into an album of torch ballads, Sinatra created one of the most perfect soundtracks ever for that late, late show on your ceiling.
The titles read like chapters in a heavy-hearted tale: “Mood Indigo,” “I Get Along Without You Very Well,” “I See Your Face Before Me,” “When Your Lover Has Gone,” “Last Night When We Were Young,” “I’ll Never Be The Same.” Inhabiting Nelson Riddle’s melancholy arrangements, Sinatra brings an understated ache to the lyrics, investing them with drama and complete believability.
This album marked one of the first when his voice had deepened and darkened from his days as a bandstand crooner with Tommy Dorsey. Along with that maturity came a vulnerability and frailty. Instead of effortlessly sailing through a song, Sinatra had to rely on his method-acting- like ability as an interpreter. What he does here is more than singing. It’s storytelling.
When you’re in a late night mood, thinking of the one that got away, there is no better musical companion than Sinatra’s In The Wee Small Hours. Posted October 10, 2006 10:05 AM | | |
ARTIST: Madeleine Peyroux SONG/ALBUM: Half The Perfect World GENRE: Pop RATING: 8
A Madeleine Peyroux record is like a time machine. Step inside and it whisks you back to a time before American Idol, Wi-Fi and Paris Hilton. A time before auto-tuned vocals and attitude. It’s coolly anachronistic, fashion unconscious and completely enchanting.
Enlisting the dream team of her previous album Careless Love - from producer Larry Klein to songwriter Jesse Harris to session monsters like Dean Parks, Greg Leisz and Jay Bellerose - Peyroux resumes her languid tour through the ‘30s & ‘40s smoky nightclub style with well-chosen covers and a handful of originals.
Though there’s a warm nostalgia in her sound, it’s much more. Imaginative interpreter that she is, Peyroux gently twists familiar classics from five different decades into something contemporary. On the Nilsson hit “Everybody’s Talkin’,” she locates a new heart at the song’s center, one that’s more amorous than vagabond. Tom Waits’s “(Looking For) The Heart Of Saturday Night” is invested with a kind of sunny hope, while Charlie Chaplin’s “Smile” manages to sound like the saddest song ever written. She transports Serge Gainsbourg’s “La Javanaise” into a delicate music box waltz and Joni Mitchell’s “River” (a duet with k.d. lang) into the front pew of the church. Most startlingly of all, her take on Sinatra’s classic “Summer Wind” strips away the Chairman’s bravado to reveal the dreamy love letter that the song really is.
Songs and sonics aside, what this record is really about is Peyroux’s singing. Fragile, balanced between a smile and a tear, with echoes of Billie Holiday and Peggy Lee, hers is a voice that belongs and doesn’t belong to any decade. Simply put, it’s timeless. Posted October 10, 2006 10:03 AM | | |
ARTIST: Fiona Apple SONG/ALBUM: Tidal GENRE: Rock RATING: 8
Eighteen years old and maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet, Fiona Apple strode into a recording studio in 1995 and laid down the tracks for her first album, one that’s as textured and sophisticated as that of a seasoned pro, but with a ton of youthful, bad-girl attitude to spare. Shot through with percolating hip-hop grooves, ragged emotion and swirling symphonic washes, the ten songs on Tidal constitute an amazing debut ¾ not just for someone her age, but any age.
Apple had virtually no experience as a live performer when she cut this record, but effectively led an ensemble of studio musicians who followed her intuitively, often nailing these lush, improvised arrangements in one take. Her pulsing piano tugs like an undertow, with brooding minor-key melodies that evoke defiance one moment, vulnerability the next. Like her primary lyrical influence, poet Maya Angelou, Apple’s words come tumbling out in a rhythmic current that spills over from one line to the next. She delivers those lyrics in a voice that’s dusky, rich and filled with an old-soul’s wisdom. Moody, compelling and mature beyond its years, Tidal is a force of nature that sweeps away everything in its path. Posted October 6, 2006 5:27 PM | | |
ARTIST: Morphine SONG/ALBUM: Cure For Pain GENRE: Alternative RATING: 7
“Implied grunge” and “low rock” are two of the more imaginative ways that two-string slide bassist Mark Sandman has attempted to describe the unique sound of his Boston-based trio, Morphine. And Cure For Pain, Morphine’s second album, was the first of the band’s two Rykodisc CDs that had a lot of people asking him for such descriptions. Released in 1993, when big woolly Seattle-style guitar rock was at the peak of its powers, Cure For Pain is the work of a guitar-less, almost jazz-style trio featuring baritone saxist Dana Colley, drummer Billy Conway, and Sandman singing a deep, smoky croon while playing his two-string bass with a slide — definitely not your average rock ensemble. And yet, the songs on Cure For Pain are clearly rock songs, with verses, choruses, hooks and melodies that draw on the blues and even jazz without even coming close to the line that separates pop from fusion.
"Less is best" became one of Sandman’s mottoes in the wake of Morphine’s critical success, and Cure For Pain makes it clear why. The absence of instrumental clutter leaves plenty of room for drummer Jerome Deupree (who was replaced by Conway after recording began) to lay down a streamlined backbeat that would make Charlie Watts proud, for Colley to demonstrate his virtuoso command of the baritone sax, and for Sandman’s dry sense of humor to emerge from the noirish backdrops of "Thursday" (a hard-boiled tale of illicit romance), "A Head With Wings" (a whimsical song about a head with wings) and "Buena" (a Faustian rock fable).
Sandman, who’d previously played low-end guitar in the skewed blues band Treat Her Right, also has a serious side, which is revealed on the bittersweet, mandolin-laced "In Spite of Me." But Cure For Pain is primarily a low-key, low-frequency, groove-driven party album with it’s late-night vibe, R&B roots, and a unique sound that eventually earned Morphine, who couldn’t even find a label to release their debut album, a deal with DreamWorks. Posted October 6, 2006 5:10 PM | | |
ARTIST: Smashing Pumpkins SONG/ALBUM: Siamese Dream GENRE: Alternative RATING: 7
The release of Smashing Pumpkins’ second CD — the one that ”head Pumpkin” Billy Corgan often referred to as the band’s first fully realized album — precipitated much spirited debate over the question of what constitutes alternative rock in the early ‘90’s. Corgan had been guilty of projecting for himself the image of the underdog underground rocker (see Siamese Dream’s "Geek U.S.A.") while artfully masterminding what, even on its debut album Gish, sounds like one of the more sophisticated arena rock bands the world had seen. Not since art-rockers Yes and Rush had a band emitted such a rich, gigantic guitar-based wall of sound. Comparatively, they made Boston’s "More Than A Feeling" seem a little underdeveloped.
Of course, rock 'n roll has always been about mythmaking — John Fogerty wasn’t born on the bayou, Bob Dylan’s real name is Zimmerman, and the Stones weren’t really street fighting men. Besides, Siamese Dream catapulted Smashing Pumpkins into orbit alongside stars of major rock stature so quickly that arguing about the underground credibility became more or less a moot point. Symphonic alienation would be one way to describe the results of Corgan’s first big-budget studio project. The 13 tracks on Siamese Dream draw heavily on Corgan’s disaffection and dysfunction for lyrics and mood, but rather than mirroring his depression with depressive music he subverts it with sweeping crescendos, bracing power chords, and sharply etched melodic hooks. The effect is majestic on the hit single "Today," where layers of melody continuously overlap against an undulating sea of humming bass and guitar. With his next project, the two-CD set Melon Collie And The Infinite Sadness, Corgan’s ambition would begin to outstrip his facility as a singer, and his fascination with ’80s new wave would provide the high points. But on Siamese Dream, he found the perfect balance between monolithic guitars and monochromatic emotions. Posted October 6, 2006 4:58 PM | | |
ARTIST: The Cars SONG/ALBUM: The Cars GENRE: Alternative RATING: 8
Part of what makes the The Cars 1978 self-titled debut such an amazing album is the fact that nearly every track became a hit single. As anyone who spent any time listening to the radio back then will attest, a full seven of the album’s nine tracks were in heavy rotation at some point during the late '70s and early '80s. In truth, with "My Best Friend’s Girl," "Just What I Needed," "Moving In Stereo" and "Bye Bye Love" alone, The Cars could almost pass for a greatest hits package on its own. The secret to The Cars’ early success is as simple as the 1-4-5 chord progression of "My Best Friend’s Girl": infectious, melodic choruses built on top of great, gleaming guitar hooks, and wrapped up in a stylish package that evokes just a hint of the playful troublemaking that used to make rock 'n roll fun.
What makes The Cars so distinctive is its blend of inseparable ingredients -- frontman Ric Ocasek’s idiosyncratic take on Lou Reed’s deadpan cool and his deep fondness for Andy Warhol-style pop-art simplicity, and the band’s hard-rocking approach to new wave, which paired the blues-derived virtuoso guitar leads of Elliot Easton with the space-age synth stylings of Greg Hawkes. The result was one of the era’s rare successful attempts to bridge the gap between the punk underground and the pop mainstream. It required a rather tenuous balancing act, one that The Cars would never again match as winningly as they did here. Ocasek, who's probably best known now for his work with Weezer, says he prefers producing first albums by new bands and, based on his own success with The Cars, it's hard to blame him. Posted October 6, 2006 4:49 PM | | |
USER: Jim2nd USER TYPE: Reviewer ARTIST: Josh Rouse SONG/ALBUM: Dressed Up Like Nebraska GENRE: Alternative RATING: 6
On this debut album, Nebraska-bred singer/songwriter Josh Rouse wanders casually into the commercial no-man’s land between creative individuality and mainstream radio. It also happens to be the fertile soil that’s helped nourish like-minded singer/songwriters like Freedy Johnston, Kevin Salem, Alejandro Escovedo, Daniel Lanois, Wilco’s Jeff Tweedy, and Richard Buckner. And it’s a kind of Americana that’s rootsy without being retro, confessional in a refreshingly low-key manner -- moody, but not quite maudlin.
Based in Nashville, Rouse deals in displaced emotions on Dressed Up Like Nebraska -- loose ends that are never neatly tied up, wounds that are never really healed. You can feel the wall of frustration that has arisen between lovers in the melancholy "Late Night Conversation," and the general sense of unease that permeates "Suburban Sweetheart," as Rouse reaches out in lines like “If you could only find a purpose/ If you could only stay the same/ I could help you open and unfurl.” His tools are simple rhymes, comfortable chord progressions and a low-key mix that centers around his steadily strummed acoustic guitar, with cello, trumpet and organ helping fill out the often subdued mix. All of which leaves plenty of room to engage us with his eye for detail, as he does in "White Trash Period Of My Life," where he intones “Be Careful with words/ They are so meaningless/ Yet they scatter like the booze from a breath/ Whose genius is dead.” There’s a certain beauty in Dressed Up Like Nebraska, and a kind of subtle catharsis that is imparted in Rouse’s sketches of people drifting apart. His freeze-frame portraits of romance of the verge of collapse stick with you.
Recommended listening: Freedy Johnston, The Trouble Tree (Bar/None, 1990); Freedy Johnston, Can You Fly (Bar/None, 1992); Freedy Johnston, This Perfect World (Elektra, 1994); Kevin Salem, Soma City (Roadrunner, 1994); Daniel Lanois, For The Beauty Of Wynona (Warner Bros., 1993); Alejandro Escovedo, Thirteen Years (Watermelon, 1993); Richard Buckner, Devotion + Doubt (MCA, 1997); Wilco, Being There (Reprise, 1997); Vic Chesnutt, West Of Rome (Texas Hotel, 1992). Posted October 6, 2006 4:13 PM | | |
ARTIST: G. Love SONG/ALBUM: Lemonade GENRE: Hip Hop RATING: 7
If you’re down with “Philadelphonic,” you’ve already tasted the laid-back funk-soul of G. Love and his band, Special Sauce. If not, where’ve you been? Certainly not near the City of Brotherly Love, where singer/guitarist/harp player Garrett Dutton and his backing band, Jeff Clemens on drums and Jim Prescott on bass, got their groove on a dozen years ago. Maybe you just weren’t paying attention when those sweet-beat tunes “Stepping Stones” or “Rodeo Clowns” (yes, the Jack Johnson song) became AAA radio favorites. But you shouldn’t blow this chance to dig G. Love’s Lemonade – a smooth, but puckery blend of Dylanesque folk-blues and old-school hip-hop funk sugared with knockout guest spots by pals Marc Broussard and Ben Harper (together!), Donavon Frankenreiter and Brushfire label owner Johnson himself, along with Blackalicious, Tristan Prettyman and many others. Harper and Broussard give a bluesy, gospel feel to “Let the Music Play” and G. Love hits some serious high notes on the Wurlitzer-driven “Missing My Baby” (with Los Lobos’ David Hidalgo on viola), but “Ain’t that Right” and “Can’t Go Back to Jersey” really kick it into must-dance mode. Prettyman’s voice is a nice contrast on “Beautiful, “which is just a cool, cool song – like a long drink of, well, you know … Posted October 5, 2006 1:42 PM | | |
ARTIST: T Bone Burnett SONG/ALBUM: The True False Identity GENRE: Alternative RATING: 7
The greatest music of the rock era frequently has been inspired by “the old, weird America.” Cultural critic Greil Marcus first used that term in a book about Bob Dylan’s Basement Tapes to describe the genesis of the sound that Dylan and The Band made in the belly of that big pink house in upstate New York.
Four decades later, the connection between popular music and America’s past is fading to static. But if anyone can tune it back in, it’s T Bone Burnett, who has just released The True False Identity, his first studio album in 14 years. Burnett -- who spent his own time in Dylan’s shadow as a member of the Rolling Thunder Revue in the 1970s -- is an evangelizing disciple of America’s musical heritage. He has won many of his converts as a producer, most notably on the best-selling O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack -- an album that somehow managed to sell millions of copies and launched an old-time folk-music revival in the age of “American Idol.” But he is a remarkable artist in his own right, too, mashing together what seems like centuries worth of influences into music that sounds like it was torn from the hymnal of a lost American faith or the songbook of a dark minstrel show. Burnett envisioned The True False Identity as a theatrical experience, breaking the album into two acts: Art of the State and Poems of the Evening. It is most certainly an album about modern America, though it is told through musical styles and lyrical idioms rarely used in contemporary popular music.
In “Zombieland,” the lead track in Art of the State, the music slithers with percussive menace, like a funeral march to Hell. Meanwhile, Burnett plays the pied piper of the New Orleans-style parade, lamenting the control the “black mass media” and religion has over the mind and soul of America. In "Palestine Texas," Burnett builds an absurdist rhyme around the characters from Frank Sinatra’s Rat Pack, pounding away at the idea of delusion, confusion and America’s need for a “soul transfusion.” There’s plenty of exploration of individual concerns, from the nature of life itself (“Every Time I Feel the Shift”) to the connection love, death, betrayal and hate ("Baby Don't Say You Love Me") Some might call this post-modern protest music. But it's more like a very smart, very hummable, fight-the-power, folk poetry slam. Posted October 4, 2006 7:49 PM | | |
ARTIST: The Raconteurs SONG/ALBUM: Broken Boy Soldiers GENRE: Rock RATING: 8
After defying the two-guitars-drums-and-bass rock ‘n’ roll model with the White Stripes, Jack White chose the standard route for the Raconteurs, his side project with pal Brendan Benson and the Greenhornes’ rhythm section. But there’s nothing standard about their album, Broken Boy Soldiers. The disc is full of heavy rock and blues – and enough hooks to make you crave way more than the 10 songs it contains. It opens with a full-tilt charmer, “Steady, As She Goes,” full of deep bass grooves and chunky chords – and enough resemblances to Joe Jackson’s “Is She Really Going Out With Him” that he might want to consider collecting royalties. On the title tune and “Blue Veins,” White does a better Robert Plant than the Led Zep frontman, but this is hardly about borrowed riffs and retro rock homages (though they do claim in a sleeve rhyme that the Raconteurs are “four lousy thieves”). It is about having fun while producing relentless melodies with meaty guitar jams, weighty rhythms and White’s and Benson’s well-matched voices.
Though the Raconteurs are being called a supergroup, it’s doubtful many people had heard of drummer Patrick Keeler or bassist Jack Lawrence previously (unless they’re familiar with the Jack White-produced Loretta Lynn album, Van Lear Rose, on which they appeared). Still, it’s quite a summit meeting, with equal contributions from a band that could have far more than one great album up its sleeve. Heck, White could decide to give up his Target-ad look (and White Stripes partner) for good and just concentrate on this collective, and it’s doubtful we’d even miss that other incarnation. Posted October 3, 2006 12:24 AM | | |
ARTIST: Audioslave SONG/ALBUM: Revelations GENRE: Alternative RATING: 9
There are plenty of new bands out there pretending to be rock stars, filling iPods and radio play lists everywhere with disposable, passionless music. Then there’s Audioslave – a band pieced together from the ruins of two of the greatest rock outfits of the 1990s.
The pairing of former Soundgarden lead vocalist Chris Cornell with Rage Against the Machine’s guitarist Tom Morello, bassist Tim Commerford, and drummer Brad Wilk was among the most hyped superstar mash-ups in rock history. History tells us that supergroups rarely live up to the sum of their parts. But Audioslave has proven to be a glorious anomaly, producing three albums during the past five years – 2002’s Audioslave, 2005’s Out of Exile and the new Revelations – that arguably rank among the best rock albums of all time.
What makes Audioslave special? You could point to the taut, original songwriting, or to Cornell’s charismatic, ferocious classic-rock vocals, or Morello’s innovative, mind-bending lead guitar work, or a rhythm section that will kick your ass. Whatever it is, the magic and the chemistry is on full display in the new Revelations, an album that blends fist-pumping anthemic rock (“Somedays,” “Shape of Things to Come”) with funky, post-modern fist-pumping funk and soul (“Original Fire,” “Broken City”). Toss in pointed, fist-pumping political statements (“Wide Awake”) and the occasional fist-pumping power ballad (“Until We Fall”) and you’ve got the makings of an authentic rock classic. Posted September 26, 2006 7:57 PM | | |
ARTIST: Hole SONG/ALBUM: Celebrity Skin GENRE: Rock RATING: 7
It never was difficult for Courtney Love to make headlines. Throughout her tumultuous career, the unsinkable Ms. Love traversed identities -- from grunge’s lewd lady, to grieving Cobain widow, to struggling single mother, to surprisingly good actress -- all the while garnering intense media interest every step of the way. With the release of Hole’s third album, Celebrity Skin, Love again made an impact, though this time with a definitively positive spin: Rolling Stone gave the album four stars, and Spin ranked it near perfect.
With California (LA, in particular) serving as the album’s center of inspiration, Love peels back Hollywood’s glamorous shroud to reveal the shattered hopes and sleazy practices of those just beyond the spotlight’s glow. In "Awful," she warns all wannabe starlets with “They know how to break all the girls like you / And they rob the souls of girls like you / And they break the hearts of girls.” And in "Reasons To Be Beautiful," advice is given to those who’ve passed the audition: “You’ll get bitter just like them / And they steal your heart away / When the fire goes out, you better learn to fake.” At times it sounds like Love is speaking from experience, and perhaps she is -- a jaded past never hurt the reputation of a bona fide rock star. But the city of angels did more than inspire themes. The city’s jagged musical history (from the Beach Boys to punk rockers X and early ‘80s metal bands like Guns N’ Roses) clearly lent itself to Celebrity Skin’s amalgam of styles.
Forsaking unrestrained power for precise strikes, the album’s diverse arsenal, like the songs of co-producer Billy Corgan (Smashing Pumpkins), exemplifies fine craftsmanship. Strict attention was given to every whiplash lick, bubbling crescendo, pregnant pause and rousing chorus until each hit its mark like a boxer’s well-timed punch. Celebrity Skin marked a turning point in Hole’s career. If previous albums Live Through This and Pretty On The Inside were the result of rebellious adolescence, then Celebrity Skin is the work of mannered adults who finally knew it was time to grow up.
Recommended listening: Joan Jett, Bad Reputation (Boardwalk, 1981); Cheap Trick, Cheap Trick (Epic, 1977); Kiss, Love Gun (Casablanca, 1977); Veruca Salt, Eight Arms to Hold You (Outpost/Geffen, 1997); Boston, Don’t Look Back (Epic, 1978). Posted September 23, 2006 4:55 PM | | |
ARTIST: Peter Mulvey SONG/ALBUM: The Trouble With Poets GENRE: Alternative RATING: 6
After graduating from college in Wisconsin two decades ago, Peter Mulvey decided to take his songs to Dublin. He built a significant following on the streets of the Irish capital, but he didn't really come into his own until he went underground: singing in the subway stations of Boston, a city undergoing a kind of folk music revival at the time. A year after making his subterranean debut, Mulvey won the Boston Acoustic Underground Competition. Since then, he's recorded four albums that have made him a solid club and concert draw, everywhere from the Newport Folk Festival to the Kennedy Center. Yet he still regularly takes his guitar back into Boston's subway stations just for the fun of it. "I play in the subway because it strips the performance situation of all expectations," Mulvey explains. "It's the best possible way to gauge your performance and to really learn from it. The people will only respond if they think what you're doing is good."
A lot of people think that Mulvey is very good, including some performers who are well established on the acoustic-music circuit. Both Chris Smither and Jennifer Kimball (of The Story) guest on Mulvey's thoughtful album, The Trouble With Poets. Despite the album's title, Mulvey has his own poetic moments. In such songs as "Tender Blindspot" and "Every Word Except Goodbye," the singer contemplates love and loss. “Sell my memories for dimes,'' he sings in his rich baritone, “Break my pocket watch and spill out my time.” Not all Mulvey's songs are so somber, however. The album's title tune jokes that “the trouble with poets is they talk too much,” and the album includes the jaunty Fats Waller tune, "You Meet The Nicest People In Your Dreams."
Mulvey's songs are designed to be played solo, but his style is unapologetically eclectic. He and guitarist David Goodrich, who produced The Trouble With Poets and co-wrote most of its songs, don't limit themselves. “I think this record sounds like a party where the guests are Ani DiFranco, the Latin Playboys, Radiohead, Dave Matthews and Pat Metheny, says Mulvey. "And even Nick Drake is having a pretty good time." Posted September 22, 2006 4:03 PM | | |
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