OUR WEEKLY COLLECTION OF SHORTER REVIEWS | |
Kleenex Girl Wonder,
Crushed Stars,
Turbo's Tunes,
Breck Alan,
Cole Marquis,
Schirra,
The International Noise Conspiracy,
Dan Israel,
Dangaru,
Ron Hester,
Dead Mans (sic) Train,
Tricky,
Calvin Don't Jump,
Face to Face,
Ultrasound,
Greg Howard Band,
The Microphones,
This Busy Monster,
Lupine Howl,
The Bootleg Remedy,
Barzin,
Nebula,
Purplene/The Rebel Astronauts,
Lea Brennan
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Kleenex Girl Wonder / Smith / MOC (CD)
Smith is without a doubt one of the most confusing albums you will ever
hear in your life, which is probably just as Kleenex Girl Wonder
impresario Graham Smith intended it to be. Chronicling the story of a
boy and his computer, Smith is an extremely self-indulgent pseudo-concept
record that's quite tough on the listener. If motivated, the kid can
write catchy tunes, as "Have We Been Working Out? (Bling Bling)" or "A
Shame and a Waste" -- two effortlessly hummable slices of shimmering pop --
clearly show. With that fact in mind, the problem with Smith becomes obvious.
It buries the actual tunes beneath a cheeseball storyline, goofy characters and an annoying, Hawking-esque computer-generated voice that gradually comes to dominate the record. While I can
certainly appreciate Graham Smith’s desire to do something different, in
the end I cannot forgive him for the time and effort -- his and mine -- that Smith squanders. Next time Graham, just stick to writing songs. -- jj
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Crushed Stars / Self Navigation / Simulcast (CD)
What would happen if somebody took one of those jazzy
post-rock lead guitar lines -- the sort of inquisitive,
repetitive guitar figure practiced by second-generation
instrumentalists like 33.3 -- and grafted it onto a low key
folk-pop song? Crushed Stars apparently decided to find
out, and the results are surprisingly impressive. Rather
than hanging loosely on a minimalist framework and
struggling desperately to engage your interest, these
probing guitar lines find themselves resting on a bed of
simple pop strumming, with low-key, confessional male vocals
wrapping the package nicely (imagine a late-night jam with
China Crisis and a few of the more responsible members of
Tortoise). The combination of elements makes for a
listening experience that's charged with subtle nuance;
rather than wondering where, if anywhere, the song is going,
you'll marvel at the difference between these playing styles
and the ease with which they interact. When additional
instruments are employed, such as the wind section used for
"Gordon", the canvas is stretched even further; conversely,
when Crushed Stars attempts more straightforward pop, as on
"Exit Wound" and "Afterwards", you may find yourself waiting
for the other shoe to drop. Most importantly, it's clear
that Crushed Stars didn't set out to make a self-involved
sonic experiment. They set out to make an enjoyable,
unusual pop album, and they succeeded. -- gz
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Various Artists / Turbo's Tunes / Kill Rock Stars (CD)
Represented as a line graph, Turbo's Tunes would start on a plateau, rise
steadily toward a high point in the middle and then drop precipitously
toward the utterly awful concluding trio of songs. The disc starts as a
compelling celebration of Women in Rock that's better than anything
the Grammys or Rolling Stone ever put together; the musical
horizons here are even wider than the gap between Britney's baby-tee and
hip-huggers. After an energetic start (The Gossip, Bangs and
Sleater-Kinney crank up motivational songs for the grrrl in all of us)
we get some artsier fare (Two Ton Boa's nine minute goth-metal dirge,
Kleenex's late-'70s post-punk), before a small rough patch (Danielle
Howle's interesting -- but not necessarily in a good way -- contribution).
The high point is Bonfire Madigan, who has a gripping, spooky sound and
a way with surprises that makes you want to hear more -- the whole point
of a compilation like this, really. From there, things can't help but
get worse, and they do. The boys get a shot (Unwound, Jim Carroll,
Sport Murphy) but put up some bricks instead of nailing three-pointers.
The final three songs (Sue P. Fox, Har Mar Superstar, Jean Smith) are so
bad as to be utterly off-putting; Fox, especially, gives us an
art-damaged interlude that sounds like the worst spoken word piece ever
written, backed with music that makes you think "I could do
that," and you probably could. What's amazing is how the four minutes
of the song are interminable, and excruciating, while Bonfire Madigan's
equal time goes by in a rush of astonishment. That's what a compilation
does -- gives us the good with the bad, and lets us sort 'em out. -- rt
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Breck Alan / Kissing Rockstars / Self-Released (CD)
Breck Alan is a really talented lyricist. Clever, intelligent,
entertaining; I’m particularly fond of the refrain in "Appropriate", the
EP's fifth track, which goes "please reconsider
jumping off that bridge/cuz I’m really not worth it/a few tears might be
appropriate." Unfortunately, the folkified pop music itself isn’t as
evocative as the words it accompanies. The songs that give the impression
of having been performed by a band, rather than just a guy with a guitar,
are more successful -— "A Man and His Beautiful Wife" and "Don’t Mess Around"
stand out in particular. -- az
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Cole Marquis / Treasure Island Serenades / Devil in the Woods
(CD)
This is a spiraling number that lets the acoustic guitar ride alongside swirling
notes, keyboards
and a sulking rhythm section that provides enough anti-pop to round out the
recording. Marquis showcases his strong voice and dreamy lyrics, painting a surreal
picture full of
thought provoking adjectives and bizarre metaphors. Emotion almost drips
from Marquis' mouth; he has a good knack for drilling straight into your heart with his warm
and welcoming
voice. And while the acoustic guitar chords strum across your tweeters from
time to time,
the backing instruments add a whole new dimension to
Marquis' sound. Sometimes quietly accenting and at other times sending part of your brain down
an entirely
different path, the dazzling instrumentation doesn't overshadow Marquis,
but provides a resourceful backdrop for his verbal presentations. This electrified world
of mind-altering bends and twists has a faint psychedelic approach to it, making Treasure
Island Serenades a moody dive into Cole's own fantasyland. -- am
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Schirra / Scene of the Atrocity / Self-Released (CD)
This is the score to a movie about sleepwalking -- or at least that's how you might
imagine these songs working best. The CD consists of seven creepy
instrumentals played on analog organs, bells, and high-pitched,
cymbal-crashing musical inventions. The CD works foremost as creator of
peculiar, carnival-inspired moods. Had David Lynch stuck with the
low-budget filmmaking of Eraserhead, Schirra might have been a
good choice to score his films. Ambient soundwashes punctuated by distant
foghorns and ear-piercing sound effects are layered over
sometimes-rocking-out-tracks. It's not a fun CD, and I'm not sure when you'd choose to listen to the songs herein (except maybe while sulking in a cemetary), but in a Medusa Cyclone sort of way,
there's some charm to be found. Play it at Halloween or crank it up to
scare your neighbors. Schirra, with any luck, will be scoring Scream 35. -- tnd
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The International Noise Conspiracy / Smash It Up /
Big Wheel (CD)
It's always interesting to me when a band that's trying to be
politically progressive ends up being musically conservative. I don't
think it's unreasonable to say that any band whose music sounds like it
could have been made a quarter-century ago isn't exactly pushing the
musical envelope. I don't mean that as a criticism, necessarily; I just
find it intriguing that progressive political thinking and progressive
(i.e. non-retro) music making often don't go together. The International
Noise Conspiracy has clearly taken the poppier side of 1970s punk as
their model (e.g. The Clash). The three tracks on Smash It Up
find them cranking out super catchy semi-hardcore for the people ("I
want to smash it up, for the workers..."). Electric organ adds some nice
depth to their sound, and former Refused vocalist Dennis Lyxzen's voice is the perfect vehicle for these alternately chaotic and tuneful
tracks. He even manages a pretty good Billy Idol imitation at one point on "Inner
City Rejects". This enhanced CD also includes the video for "Smash It Up". -- ib
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Dan Israel / Dan Who? / Haydens
Ferry (CD)
There's only so much one guy can do with an acoustic
guitar. If you're a six-string-toting singer/songwriter
looking to add to the world's vast stockpile of roots-rock
and folk music, you shouldn't even bother getting out of bed
unless you have a good voice and compelling lyrics. Dan
Israel, frontman for up-and-coming roots outfit The
Cultivators, can pull it off. His voice roughened by years
on the road, Israel sounds like he's only a couple hundred
cigarettes away from the riveting rasp of a true storyteller
-- and as he spins highly personal, Springsteenesque tales
of love and loneliness and doubt and depression, he'll
connect with you as few artists can. Refreshingly, he's
come through it all with his sense of humor intact, as the
title -- equal parts humility and frustration -- implies.
Musically, Dan Who? is pretty spartan stuff; its
jangle is a means to the lyrics' end. Those who care more
for shared experiences than hummable tunes will find a
moveable feast. -- gz
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Dangaru / Self-Titled / Self-released
(CD)
Formed by members of New York's the Accidents and Squirrels from Hell, this
quartet has a definite knack for making power pop. The five songs here all
contain excellent guitar hooks, but what really catches the ear are their
vocal melodies. By combining their voices into shimmering harmonies, the
band gives a friendliness to their alternative rock sound. This is
particularly true on "Firefly", where all of the elements come together to
form a sound that's bursting with instant appeal. "Firefly" deserves to be heard far and
wide, and the other tunes here are as good as anything Matthew Sweet has
done. Cunningly constructed and wonderfully executed, this EP heralds big
things from this new group. -- rd
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Ron Hester / In Between /
Plan B (CD)
In Between features Ron Hester's appealing acoustic guitar, backed by drum, bass, some electric guitar and occasional flavourings of lap steel. This music is basic singer-songerwriter, like cowboy food: hot, nourishing, plenty of it and not much in the way of fancy airs or extras. The lyrics aren't extremely clever or humorous, just heartfelt, but not old-fish-reeking-bad in their desperate attempts to rhyme, either. Hester's voice and his backing singers are clear, clean and direct, like a hand stretched toward you from dry land, ready to pull you in. The notes are crisp and bright, and the percussion never overwhelms, driving the tempo forward while hiding in the background, the perfect accompaniment. If this sounds like I'm damning Hester with faint praise, I'm sorry. It's just that in an era overly concerned with outhipping the hip, it's sometimes pleasant to see or hear a simple idea executed well. Ron Hester's music is simple and effective, and he makes no attempt to make apologies or excuses for it. There's no need to: In Between won't leave you feeling conflicted...just satisfied. -- js
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Dead Mans (sic) Train / Self-Titled / Mindt Gash (CD)
Here's some harder edged rock-metal that definitely has its hands in the post-grunge cookie jar. I can't help but think of Pearl Jam or Alice in Chains as
this groove metal outfit torches through several guitar-centric tracks,
tossing off occasional wah-effected chords and some high-pitched solos. If
you've listened to your share of metal, you've heard all of this stuff somewhere
before. H. Bachmier's vocals have a low-end, husky quality about them, making you
feel as if a gruff, flannel-wearing Canadian is singing to you right there in
your room. Everything is decently orchestrated, but there's
nothing exceptionally provoking going on. The metal is too soft to drive home
any point, and the vocals are all too familiar, leaving you with an empty
album that'll probably be forgotten as soon as it's taken out of your CD
player. -- am
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Tricky / Mission Accomplished EP / Durban Poison (CD)
When an artist uses his official website to apologize for his last release,
the album was either really that bad or the artist has settled into some extreme
form of self-criticism. For Tricky, the former was true. Juxtapose was a bloated
release bogged down with guest vocalists and shoddy songwriting. Therein
lies the joy of the Mission Accomplished EP. Don't get me wrong --
this is not a major release -- but this EP can be seen as a sign that Tricky
will return to form on the next full length. All the more ironic is the fact
that Tricky is once again sharing vocal duties with rappers, but this time he has
kept them in check. The three original tracks here
share a pleasurable organic feel. Guitar lines slink around in the
background of "Crazy Claws" and a fat bassline girds "Tricky versus Lynx
(live)" to a live drum track. I'm not sure if "Tricky versus Lynx" was
really recorded live, but I can say it comes as close to how Tricky sounds
live in concert as anything he has released on record. On the stage, together with
his tack-sharp band, Tricky's songs become dervishes of noise and rhythm,
sweeping mercilessly through the concert hall. "Tricky versus Lynx" takes that approach
but knocks it down a notch and makes it a little looser. Damn fine work, and
apology accepted. -- jkb
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Calvin Don't Jump / Crystal Clear Mississippi / Self-Released (CD)
If you own lots of Elephant 6 records, the name J. Kirk Pleasent might ring
a bell. He put a year or two of his trombone-inhabited breaths into the
Olivias' soundscapes, and has also added touches of Pleasentness to
the Gerbils and Macha. Like the work of most E6 folk, you get the
feeling he was a clever, gifted player in a high school band who dreamed on
behalf of everyone; not only would he be in a rock band one day, but each one of his
friends and acquaintances would be there with him too. Thus, over a dozen
folks add their slice to this musical pie, supporting Pleasent with an oboe
here, a slide whistle there, and even some soprano and tenor. While I don't
always understand what's going on ("Try being real inside/A great
transparent cranium"), and find its catchiest sequences almost too familiar,
this never stops being a band that gives you a kooky, "music is cool" grin.
Crystal Clear Mississippi is made with love, passion and joyful
abandon; the reasons for living are spit out, tune after tune, by
folks who have the goods to keep Calvin from jumping. One listen to "Two
Water Moccasins (in Love)" and you'll agree: few things reveal more
promise, or pleasure, than the ripples made throughout Crystal Clear
Mississippi. -- td
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Face To Face / Standards and Practices / Vagrant (CD)
This is an album of cover songs from pop-punk darlings Face to Face.
It also sounds
like an album of covers of Face to Face's songs. So,
yeah. I feel your pain, but I really don't know why
this was done either. The album is solid: heartfelt
songwriting bolstered by dynamic progressions and
breakdowns makes for an all-together sound listen -- but
we already knew that about The Smiths, Pixies and
the rest of the pack (except maybe INXS). Fugazi is also
covered, with Face to Face jumping on the most
anti-corporate song in their back-catalogue,
"Merchandise". I wish I could say Face to Face were
just being their old shuckster selves, but I don't
think the connection between a superfluous cover album
and "what could a businessman ever want more/ than to
have us sucking in his store" was ever fully realized. -- jw
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Ultrasound / Hamesh / Self-Released (CD)
Shhh.... Keep it down, if you would;
we're trying to listen to Ultrasound. Hamesh has the gossamer shimmer and weightless presence of a butterfly resting on a flower, and too much crashing about will send it
fluttering off. Other complimentary metaphors for the four-piece band's
stately music would include the gentle murmur of waves lapping the
shore, the leisurely undulations of a lava lamp, or perhaps a whale
viewed in slow motion, rolling through the vastness of the sea. A less
kindly description would equate Hamesh with watching grass grow.
Stoner rock has made a comeback, and Ultrasound's upscale trance works
as stoner music for the Zen set. The album at its best could be a form
of meditation, because it requires absolute attention to glean its
relatively modest charms. Moment-by-moment beauty without compelling context
quickly turns bland; there's little sustained melody or differentiation
between tracks, no rhythm, and only small changes in instrumentation.
While the individual players make remarkably pretty noise, there's no emotional frisson. Occasional
vocals add texture but not meaning. The nine and a half minute "Sparks
in My Clouds" could be sued for false advertising, as there's not a
spark to be found -- just droning tones of pure sound played with the sort
of energy level you'd find in California during the recent blackouts.
"Tomorrow" is a marginally more complex, layered composition but, like Hamesh as a whole,
it's over-long and under-composed. Ultrasound have engineered a colorful butterfly whose wings don't
stir much air. -- rt
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Greg Howard Band / Lift / Espresso (CD)
You'd think that when talented musicians get together to make music, the result would be nothing short of amazing.
It's not always the case. Though Greg Howard, a virtuoso on the uncommon
Chapman Stick, and his newly assembled band are undoubtedly
talented, Lift never seems to get off the ground.
Many of the tracks are rife with over-indulgent jams; as a result, songs that
could benefit from some space and simplicity instead sound busy and
over-complicated. On occasion Lift hits its stride, as on "Nord"
and "Albatross", but these moments are too few and far between to sustain
proper crusing altitude. -- al
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The Microphones / I Can't Belive... b/w I'm a Pearl
Diver / Coming in Second (7")
While you're waiting for the Microphones' follow-up to It
Was Hot, We Stayed in the Water, this unassuming single
will keep you going. The A-side addresses the (apparently
untimely) death of a friend, mixing shock and disbelief with
fondness and acceptance. Phil Elvrum leads the singing,
ranging between cheery and maudlin with minimal vocal
backing. Instrumentally, though, he's accompanied by a sizeable group of other
worthies (Calvin Johnson among them); they're all packed
into a big room, singing and strumming and bowing for all
they're worth, making for a touching if distinctly off-key
apotheosis. The flip side, "I'm a Pearl Diver", is less
maudlin. While "Pearl Diver" initially pretends to be an antique folk
tune, The Microphones' penchant for the unusual quickly
asserts itself, leading to a central sequence that sounds
like a marching band and a piano falling down a steep flight
of stairs and landing in the midst of a bunch of
poorly-wired guitar amps. Who among us couldn't listen to
something like that again and again? -- gz
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This Busy Monster / Fireworks / Barsuk(CD)
Angela Carter wrote a book of short stories called Fireworks, which
takes the reader to transcendental heights of vocabulary and sheer plot
weirdness. Not only does This Busy Monster share Ms. Carter's title in Fireworks,
but they also share an aesthetic. This band's primary goal
seems to be achieving the odd and the iconoclastic with their music, particularly with songwriter Christopher Possanza's lyrics. "Loup Garou", a
cheerful anthem to the grotesque werewolf, is up-tempo and heavy with
violins -- a clever move, since it recalls gypsies and New Orleans, two
associations that are inevitably intertwined with werewolves. Every song
seems carefully planned for the all the instruments, particularly the
odder ones (singing saw, banjo, cello, clarinet, french horn), to compliment
the lyrical theme. "Loup Garou" is a case in point, but this forethought is also borne out by
the mournful piano in "Smell of Blood", or in "Issue"'s nerve-wracking
super-fast drums, cymbals and guitar.
Like the Addams Family cartoons, you'll drool for more ghoul with This Busy
Monster's Fireworks. Here's hoping the band's career is longer than
Angela's (I miss her). -- js
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Groups boasting former members of Spiritualized are not all that
uncommon these days. Jason Pierce’s fiery temperament and quest for
aural perfection has left many a musician standing in the Dole queue.
However, while Spiritualized offshoots might be legion, none are quite as exciting, or as musically sophisticated as Lupine Howl. 125 collects the group’s three British EPs in one neat little shiny package. Consisting of former 'Lized
members Sean Cook, Mike Mooney and Damon Reece, the group integrates
elements of their former employer's music and fuses them with funk, psychedelica
and electronica, creating a sound that's sleeker and dirtier than
anything Spaceman has committed to tape in the last five years. On
"Vaporizer" they whip up a frenzied guitar maelstrom reminiscent
of Screamadelica’s most ravenous moments. "Swell" does exactly as its
name implies, as swirls of atmospherics and gentle picking bob in and out
of the mix, culminating in a huge deluge of textured noise. The nasty
industrial funk of "Bronzage" and "Voodoo Raygun"'s skittering
beats and stealthy production are also well worth your time. 125
proves that not all bands featuring "former members of" are shallow imitations of prior glory. -- jj
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The Bootleg Remedy / Self-Titled / DAG (CD)
Based in Williamsburg, the Bootleg Remedy are getting wildly popular in
Brooklyn, Manhattan and anywhere else that Woody Allen films remain
popular. While David Gould's banjo and mandolin provide a solid bluegrass
base to many of their tracks, this is good old-timey New Orleans fun, with
John Simonetti and Michael Arenella putting smiles all over their trombone
and tuba playing. The seven tracks on their debut include two covers, "Old
Salty Dog Blues" and "Blue Moon of Kentucky", and I'm so glad they're here,
because these immortal cuts help make it astoundingly clear how good Gould's
own compositions are. They basically match the covers for emotional depth,
only occasionally delving into a slapstick giddiness that recalls Dukes of Hazzard
car chases. I find the band name dull, and the disc's cover art absolutely awful, but
this is the sort of cheap-looking CD that's priceless. "Davo's Rag" and "Snake Juice" are especially sublime tunes -- "Davo's
Rag", gets the party started and "Snake Juice" showcases each
band member's fine musicianship without sacrificing melody or
the band's infectious spirit. A far different group, Denton's polka
powerhouses Brave Combo, provided similar excitement a few years
back; as with that band, the Bootleg Remedy make it plain that old-time music
(or long-forgotten genres) can always be resuscitated if one has the heart,
the guts and the sheer joy to simply give it a go. -- td
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Barzin / Self-Titled / Ontario
Arts Council (CD)
Got the ex-girlfriend blues? Been laid off from your job and wrecked your
car on the way
home? Barzin's hushed voice will help you relax after a painfully
dischordant day leaves you feeling like you've hit rock bottom. This Canadian takes his
sweet time as he delves into a quiet and temperamental world of slow-moving
tunes; they're not so much heard by your ears as felt by your body,
measured waves washing over your skin, sending a slight chill through your
bones. Barzin's musical massage reminds me of early 4AD artists, with a
full-bodied production that lets every quiet acoustic guitar chord ring out to its fullest extent. Front and center is Barzin's whispering, well-enunciated singing, practically faultless in tone and a
beautiful accompaniment to his minimalist playing. "It's All Just Easier" is
so upfront that you'll hear Barzin's lips crack and his hand gently glide
across the fretboard. It's just the right speed to push you into a
deep, dreamless sleep. -- am
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Nebula / Charged / Sub Pop
(CD)
Like the Supersuckers, Nebula infuse their cock-rock with a Southern touch. On tracks like "Beyond", the result comes close to the loping
hardcore of Clutch without Neil Fallon's preacher-gone-mad vocals.
"Travelin' Man's Blues" gives the blues a rock punch-up to great effect and
contains a groove sure to get your head nodding. Elsewhere, as on the
opening "Do It Now", the quartet slips into a repetitive mode that's
difficult to overcome. On this track, the constant sneering chant of
"Let's do it / Do it now" dulls the sharp guitar work. On the whole,
however, the band hits its target audience right between the eyes with a
double-barreled guitar blast and solid rhythm work. The results are
nothing innovative, but they're still effective. -- rd
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Purplene/The Rebel Astronauts / Split Single / Steady Cam (7")
You'll get two sides of the instrumental coin here.
Purplene's "Rinse & Stack" figure leads off with a pleasant,
brain-tickling jazz-via-post-rock guitar figure, repeated
with variations. Unfortunately, there's not quite
enough variation; while there's nothing even remotely
unpleasant about the track, it doesn't really seem to go
anywhere. The Rebel Astronauts fare better. Beginning from
what sounds like similar jazz-fusion turf, they build
steadily to a shimmering climax that's equal parts shoegazer
and Godspeed-style musical catharsis. It's not necessarily
a "better" song than "Rinse & Stack", but it seems more
purposeful and immediate. -- gz
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Lea Brennan / The Entrance / Self-Released (CD)
When I was a kid my dad used to make me listen to country music while
we were out in our garage working on his never-quite-running Chevy
something-or-other convertible, or sawing giant boards in half in our
freezing cold basement. Of course, I grew to hate it (both country music
and forced manual labor). That distaste for country lasted well into
adulthood, when I discovered that there's much more to country music
than the glossy crap that Nashville routinely cranks out. Of course the
"alt-country" movement of the late 1990s didn't hurt, either. While
The Entrance isn't quite as gratuitously glossy as it could be,
it's not exactly dripping with authenticity either. Brennan's voice is
strong and versatile, with a lot of Stevie Nicks and at least a handful
of Dolly Parton in it. The music, on the other hand, sounds like it was
purchased wholesale at the Nashville Studio Musician Express Line; it's
well-played but souless dreck. This disc sounds like it's meant to be
Brennan's calling card as she tries to work her way into the Nashville
music industry. That's sad. Screw the industry. Go out there and make
some music! -- ib
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gz - george zahora | nw - noah wane | am - andrew magilow | ib - irving bellemead | jj - jason jackowiak | td - theodore defosse | rd - ron davies
jkb - jason broccardo | js - jenn sikes | rg - rodney gibbs | tnd - tim digravina | rt - ryan tranquilla | al - amy leach | jw - john wolfe | az - alex zorn
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