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OUR WEEKLY COLLECTION OF SHORTER REVIEWS
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Bettie Serveert,
Debbie Andrews,
Permissionslip,
Pinback,
Marc Tremblay,
Hollydrift,
The Selfish Jeans/Ska Girl and the Hands of Ra,
The Riptones,
Clit Stop,
Paxton,
Lola Hum,
Brandtson,
Carrie Akre,
Dagmar 41,
The Hamicks,
Moonbabies,
Elliott,
Dee Snider,
Livehuman,
The Marshmallow Coast
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Bettie Serveert / Private Suit / Parasol (CD)
I remember Bettie Serveert. At least I think I do...although honestly, I
can't remember what I remember about them. No matter -- they've got a new
CD out, and it's well worth remembering on its own, regardless of what
they may have done back in the day. At times it's hard to believe that
this is a Dutch band, especially given Carol van Dyk's fine English
lyrics and even finer voice, which has just the barest hint of a
non-native-speaker's accent. There's something about the darker parts of
this disc that reminds me of the Sundays, or maybe Portishead,
although there are no electronics to speak of. But then suddenly the
darkness clears and some pure, happy, soaring pop music shines through
and I'm reminded of...well, of great pop music! I've come to like Private Suit
a lot, although it took a few listens to really get into my ears.
Van Dyk's voice has the depth to pull you into the tunes, and once you're
there the strong songwriting and sharp playing give you plenty to listen
to. I guess you could say I've rediscovered the joys of Bettie Serveert -- and I don't think I'll forget them this time. -- ib
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Debbie Andrews / Suburbs of Eden / Frankly Mills
(CD)
When not moonlighting with Gladshot, Debbie Andrews sits down at the piano
and does a bit of genre exploring on her own. Suburbs of Eden has a
dependable, steady pace that avoids any solitary classification, instead
opting to include bits of folk, jazz and gentle rock. Reminding me of a
passionate but less vocal-centric Sheryl Crow, Andrews surrounds herself
with talented musicians and places herself squarely in the middle of the
music. Each instrument revolves around her wispy, dreamy voice,
which has an exquisite ability to calm without becoming overly sappy or
sounding like mushy contemporary adult alternative. Andrews has obviously
spent a considerable amount of time crafting each of these songs and the
result is an album light on filler and heavy on mature, melody driven
tunes. -- am
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Permissionslip / Jealousy Rules / PS
(CD)
Here are three reasons to like David Watlington, the twisted
mind behind Permissionslip: (1) His music sounds like Frank
Zappa covering your favorite new/no wave dance tunes; (2) He
has a song called "Super Attack Monkey"; (3) The CD insert's
photo caption: "Portrait of the artists a couple hours
before he scams a bunch of free color copies of this CD
insert from the copy shop he works at." Get the picture
yet? Jealousy Rules is pleasantly unpredictable,
its lyrics alternately fiendishly clever and unabashedly
mad. Only a few of the songs follow the traditional
verse/chorus/verse approach, while the rest, like
"Blockbuster", seem to lack short-term memory, allowing
Watlington's They Might Be Really Stoned Giants vocals to
drag them by the hair through a gorse bush into new and
contorted musical territory. If you crave polish or order, this
isn't for you; Jealousy
Rules seethes with mad, inept and sloppy brilliance. If you buy just one
obscure CD-R treasure this year, make it this one. -- gz
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Pinback / Some Voices / Tree (CD)
I've always felt comparisons are the best way to give people an impression
of new, unfamiliar bands. Pinback, however, seems to be one of those rare bands that defies grouping. Their music contains a lot of piano, but it's primarily guitar pop of a highly
orchestrated variety. Since I am committed to attempting comparisons, I'll suggest that Pinback
sound a little like ELO on the title track, with some nice Beatles-esque
moments as well. In "Trainer", though, there's a touch of Aden, and
in "Manchuria", their plane crash song, a live drummer helps to create muted shades of modern radio rock. This brings us to "June", which continues Pinback's trend
for being themselves. It's mostly
a continuation of "Manchuria", with a haunting (if overly familiar) piano
arrangement -- think Phantom of the Opera, or any weird guy who's playing
piano and out to spook -- and a nice, slowed-down section that re-establishes
the band's appeal to the indie pop community. Rob (Thingy, Heavy Vegetable) Crow and Armisted Burwell
Smith IV share the bulk of the work on Some Voices, and you can credit them for
staking largely unchartered territory in the present world of indie music. -- td
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Marc Tremblay writes strange, disjointed and ultimately uninspired music.
"Vroum", the opening track of Bruit-graffiti ("noise-graffiti" for
you non-French speakers), starts with disembodied snippets of Beatles songs, such as "Beep-Beep, Beep-Beep, Yeah!" from "Baby You Can Drive My Car". From here he moves into a sort of synthesized interpretation of automobile sounds, in which
imitated horns honking and engines running make up an initially active
texture that slowly comes to rest. This piece is too one-dimensional. It
lacks the transformation or recontextulization that would make it more
fulfilling. Bruit-graffiti's most scatological track is "Résidus (Clip
dadaïste)", an aural take on Duchamp's famous urinal
sculpture. Here, Tremblay takes recordings of people barfing, belching,
farting and doing other bathroom-related things and makes a collage out of
them. It's practically unbearable to listen to unless you're a huge South Park fan. In general, I find Tremblay's work to be only marginally
entertaining and somewhat cliché-ridden. He claims that he's
"[discovering] the poetry in the noise that surrounds us" -- but 50 years after
Schaeffer and Henry, I think we're ready to move on. -- nw
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Hollydrift / Hail the Frozen North / Hollydrift (CD)
Three tracks -- not songs, necessarily. These soundscape compositions (or
something?) blow and grind like wind or trains. There is the occasional
gothic chorus member in the background mumbling, moaning, chanting or
reciting something unintelligible. Static radio voices speak in foreign
tongues. There’s a point where strings sing old-time romantic movie
soundtrack themes. There’s the Radiohead “Fitter Happier” voice doing the
weather for the Midwest. A collage of found sounds. Nothing too impressive.
Nothing overly offensive. -- av
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The Selfish Jeans/Ska Girl and the Hands of Ra / s/t / Yam
Yam (7")
About the best thing this split single has to offer is the amusing cover. I won't say
anything else
about the trio that graces the front ‘cause I don't want to get my ass
whooped, so just take a look for yourself. The Selfish Jeans do one of the
most impressive jobs of playing forgettable rock that I've heard in quite
some time. Think of generic sounding Brit-rock from the early 90s...and
you're done. Next... Ska Girl & the Hands of Ra at least have a cool name.
Unfortunately, the band epitomizes everything that I dislike about
whitebread Third Wave ska -- there's absolutely no soul to this tune
whatsoever. All thirteen members sound like they're going through the
motions on "On My Mind", which goes absolutely nowhere, drilling an already
overdone genre deeper into its grave. -- am
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The Riptones / Buckshot / Bloodshot
(CD)
First, let's make one thing clear: I love country music. From Conway Twitty
to Jeff Tweedy, Roy Clark to Guy Clark, Gram Parsons to Dolly Parton, it's
the kind of music that makes me want to lie on the floor or sets me singing
along at window-rattling levels. In other words, it makes me feel alive,
which brings us to The Riptones. They're a good band, a fine band, a
perfectly passable one. But, I have to tell you, there's just not a lot of
there there. Call me biased or idiotic, but a lot of the Chicago country scene leaves me
feeling empty. It's technically proficient, no doubt about it. John
Langford, The Waco Brothers, The Handsome Family -- they've all studied hard
and learned their licks. Take the Riptones' "Gone to Seed" for example.
It's got your twangy Telecaster, your Cash-inspired low and lonesome voice,
your melancholy tale. All the elements are there, but the sum is no greater
than its parts. Put the same tools in the hands of, say, another Bloodshot
artist, Old 97s, and you'll likely get something that not only covers all
its bases but somehow manages to conjure up a little alchemy in the
process. Think of a store-bought pie versus one made by your sweetie just
for you. The ingredients may be the same, the appearance, too. But
there's just something about the heart that goes into your darling's pie
that makes your eyes roll back in your head with every bite. -- rg
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Clit Stop / Self-titled / Swezlex
(CD)
Take an hour or so of blistering, ear-abrading noise, feeling free to
mix analog and electronic flavors. Mix. Season with a sleazy rock-n-roll attitude culled from the
Jon Spencer Blues Explosion songbook, as stolen from Jimi Hendrix.
Add a dash of pop music sensibility and simmer for sixty-seven minutes. Now
you've got Clit Stop. Though a lot of it is just noise,
it's possible to pick bits and pieces of discrete songs out
of the mix, which leaves you listening with the same sort of
uneasy interest that you get from identifying familiar food
items in a puddle of vomit. There's a lot more deliberate
planning behind this cacophony than Clit Stop would have you
believe. It also sounds like a bunch of mad zoo animals going through your
kitchen cupboards, which is as close to guaranteed listening nirvana as
anyone could want. -- gz
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Paxton / Ginger's Dish / Underdog (CD)
Paxton was once a country music singer. He
says he left because the subject matter in country songs is restrictive -- a
statement with which Terry Allen fans undoubtedly disagree --
but I hope it mostly has to do with him realizing that he sounds like a prototype
indie-popster. He's got a great, mildly throaty voice, with a snarl
that brings to mind Graham Parker, and which conveys lyrical moments both
amusing ("Today's a little better/I'm a little less insane") and relatable
("The first time I kissed you I wanted it never to end...but the last time I
kissed you it's strange, I had to pretend"). Melodically, these songs should
be reckless or edgy, but they're not -- when you read about
Paxton's love for Queen and the Eagles in interviews, you're not too
surprised -- and his songs rely on his
personality and performance style to differentiate him from a run-of-the-mill major label act.
While I think he has the potential to become big, it's mostly because he
seems like a big-budget, watered-down version of what I expected Paxton to
be. Rather than sounding like a new, lightly twisted Lou Reed, the
songs on Ginger's Dish go against you like a butter knife.
Occasionally, they raise an eyebrow ("You're groovy in that retro way") or
bemused wince, but mostly they raise only polite indifference. Ginger's Dish is
too tame to care too much about, and doesn't continue to suggest the grand
future which his first record loudly proclaimed. -- td
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Lola Hum / Lola Hum / Pants on Fire (CD)
Lola Hum's singer, Erin Salgado, is their greatest asset. She has a plaintive,
expressive, gently compelling voice that serves her well as she sings songs
of melancholy and remorse. Lola Hum is a delicately mournful affair centered around lost or dying love. "Not the One" pines, "And I know I'm not the one that you want, And I know I'm just the one
you've got." The music is attractive, yet
somehow lonely. "Montana" cautions, "Cause I wonder, If you'll do
the right thing, When desire rears her pretty head again". Yes, these are
thoughtful, communicative songs and Salgado seems the perfect vehicle for
them. She's backed by a standard rock quartet that seems quite competent
and gets points for not upstaging her poignant vocals. Sure, there are a lot
of rock bands out there and when it comes down to it, Lola Hum isn't
particularly unique. But they deserve credit for thoughtfulness and
earnestness, and for managing to convey real emotion. -- nw
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Brandtson / Trying to Figure Each Other Out / Deep Elm (CD)
I get the feeling that Brandtson is trying really hard not to be an emo
band. That's admirable, although putting a picture of a guy with thick
black emo glasses on the back of the CD probably wasn't the sharpest
move... Cover issues aside, they've pretty much succeeded in un-emoing
themselves, and the "post-hardcore" tag that their press seems to have
settled on is reasonably accurate. This is fairly fast, chugga-chugga
guitar/bass/drums music, with half-sung lyrics a la any number of
Southern California bands, complete with dual vocals and some nice
harmonies. The lyrics are largely personal, moody, relationship-based
affairs, and I'm not positive but I have a hunch there's a Jesus thing
going on in there somewhere too. There's not that much here in the way
of new sounds or musical ideas, although the songs are well played and
the sound is tight and clean. And then there's the "hidden" track, which
has the fellows dabbling in electronics and funky beats. It's
interesting and a nice change, but it's not quite enough to set
Brandtson apart from the many other bands currently living out similar
post-hardcore dreams. -- ib
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Carrie Akre / Home / Good
Ink (CD)
You might know Akre from her time with Seattle's Hammerbox
or the handful of other bands she's been in. Here, she's
striking out on her own, doing the singer-songwriter thing.
Voice-wise, Akre is far more powerful than she needs to be
for this material; raw-throated and sultry, she's like a more
sophisticated Joan Jett with a touch of Siouxsie Sioux's
mystery. It's a shame that most of her songs keep her in
"sensitive balladeer" mode, where overly slick production
prevents her from making waves. I guess that Akre wants to
emphasize her talents as a songwriter, and get away from the
harder-edged stuff, but most of Home's material sells
her talent short. The ferocious title track
proves that she's holding back a lot of raw power, and I wish
I'd been able to hear more of it. -- gz
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Dagmar 41 / Unsailable / Molecule (CD)
Dagmar 41 is wildly misguided piano music touted as arty and experimental.
The voice of the woman here (apparently Dagmar herself?) is a strained shot
at Tori Amos, but with a British accent. Dagmar 41 is far less creative, and
somehow more irritating than Tori, but you still get the whole weird and
mysterious girl action. Her voice wavers and trembles, and while I’ve
not got an ear for how a classical vocal chord should wiggle, either Dagmar’s is shaking the wrong way or I hate classical vocal chords. The
instrumentation accompanying the pearly keys is made up of cheap
electronics, bland acoustic and electric guitars and (yikes) more layers of
vocals. When Dagmar 41 isn’t doing the Amos, she’s whining, screaming and
even rapping. Yes. Rapping. Be scared: check out the sound clip. -- av
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(Editor's Note: Due to a shortage of turntables, it has taken us rather a long time to review this LP. Our thanks to the Hamicks for their patience.)
Hammocks are great to lie in, while the Hamicks are great to listen to -- or you could combine the two for maximum effect. After all, the songs on this self-titled release are enough to put
you on your back. This hard charging Austin, TX group plays gritty 60s garage rock shot through with a melodic new wave sensibility. This self-titled LP is the band’s first proper
album; it follows a string of EPs and seven-inches released on several different labels, including the much beloved Framed Records. Rockabilly-inspired romps like “Poop in the Pants”
and “Sweet Little Attention Getter” snarl with dirge-like guitars and gruff vocals, while Side B opener “Ajax” has a disjointed, punky feel reminiscent of early Ramones. How can you
go wrong with eight songs in less than 25 minutes? You can’t -- which is why the Hamicks’ self-titled debut will undoubtedly garner many repeat performances on your hi-fi. Whether you
choose to stand up or lie down during them is completely up to you. -- jj
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Moonbabies / Climbing Up These Miles / Best Kept Secret (CASS)
Compiling the best of the Moonbabies' cassette releases from 1996-1999,
Climbing Up These Miles provides an interesting if not always
thrilling look at a young, eclectic pop band discovering the type of music
it does best. Besides including demos and tracks which wound up on the
recent Duckweed release June and Novas, this tape includes a moody
instrumental and a number of cuts where Ola Flick (the male member of the duo)
takes over on lead vocals. Ola's voice is not as enjoyable as Carina
Johannsen's, and seems more suited to harder rock, but it's nice if you've
wondered what music Eddie Vedder would make if he'd been born in Sweden. On
Ola's tracks, the Moonbabies mix in a little New Order with a little Buffalo
Springfield, and the result is not peanut
butter and chocolate, though it generally works better than you'd think. When
Carina leads or shares vocals, the results are more mainstream, recalling
groups like the Cardigans. This is the direction in which I think
their future is headed. After hearing June and Novas, I
thought the Moonbabies might be the next big thing; should this hunch be
right, then consider the flawed but ocassionally exciting Climbing Up
These Miles the next big collector's item. -- td
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Elliott / False Cathedrals / Revelation (CD)
Elliott’s Chris Higdon is blessed with one of the most amazing and emotive voices in all of music today. Anybody who’s ever heard “Miracle” from the band’s stellar U.S. Songs album
knows that fact to be true. Higdon's high-pitched wails and cries force the Elliott's music to go places it otherwise would not dare -- and False Cathedrals finds the scope of his influence wider
and more apparent. Opening with what sounds like an aria played through a short-wave radio, False Cathedrals soon reveals itself to be an explosive barrage of odd guitar
shapes and bombastic rhythms, providing an ample foundation for Higdon’s sonorous vocal outpourings. “Blessed by Your Own Ghost” and “Cavalry Song” begin slowly with
ethereal ambience and a few chilling chords before erupting into feedback-laced guitar maelstroms, combined with shifting rhythmic underpinnings and...that voice. “Shallow Like Your Breath” and “Speed of Film” find the band shedding some of their hardcore tendencies in favor of an eerily melodic, more refined sound. Any way you look at it, False Cathedrals is a grand gesture by the last band in the land who sound like they actually mean it. -- jj
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Dee Snider / Never Let the Bastards Wear You Down / Koch (CD)
Do you ever wonder what happened to Twisted Sister? I'll have to admit that
somewhere in my heart I always figured they'd still be stubbornly rocking at
40. It turns out I'm at least partly right. Dee Snider, the
golden-locked, heavily made-up lead singer of TS, is still putting out
hair-metal that makes you wanna to rock. His hair is mostly black now, and
he's put aside the '80s-style circus act, but his music is still pretty much
intact. It's the same mid-tempo, pulsing hard rock with fiery, melodic
guitar outbursts and snarled lyrics. Even the song titles on Never Let
the Bastards Wear You Down seem like they'd be right at home on some
vintage vinyl (although to make it seem more authentic you'd need to spel
sum of the wurds phunny): "Desperado", "Ride Through the Storm", "Our
Voice Will Be Heard". Mr. Snider's music hasn't changed much since his
heady days, and that's probably just what the two or three Dee Snider fans
in our audience were hoping to hear. For the rest of us...hey, no one's making us listen! -- nw
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Livehuman / Elefish Jellyphant / Matador (CD)
Rather like K Records' IQU, Livehuman combines bass riffs,
percussion and turntablism in order to push the envelope of
stylistic hybridization. Due to the jazzy mood created by
the bass and strings, you may be reminded of Medeski, Martin
and Wood's hip-hoppier moments -- and the band gets some
seriously cooking funk-jazz rhythms going here, as well as
creating some downtempo DJ Spooky-style soundscapes.
Unfortunately, since none of the instruments have a lead
voice, you'll spend a lot of your listening time waiting for
something "big" to happen...only to realize that you've
heard what you're going to get. Don't get me wrong --
Elefish Jellyphant is thoroughly listenable. It's
just not very exciting. -- gz
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Marshmallow Coast / Time Square / Spare Me (CD)
In a world where too many artists take themselves, as well as their
music, too seriously, we must thank the good lord above for bands like
Marshmallow Coast. Any band that's named after a fluffy dessert treat
and can boast of songs titled “Wedding in Catland” and “Between Love
and Puke on the Bus” must have a good sense of humor -- at least as
far as their own creative output is concerned. Time Square is a reissue of the first
album from this Of Montreal side project -- and predictably, it's pretty raw. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but it takes some getting used to. However, rough production and lo-fi tendencies are what gives Time Square its charm. The aptly-titled opener, “Intro”, oozes child-like innocence, while “Spencer for Hire = Expensive”
is a laid back, countrified ditty accented by odd instrumentation and
Andy Gonzales' low slung vocal delivery. More affecting still is the short,
wobbling-but-brilliant instrumental “Bermuda Rectangle”. If it’s a more polished studio sheen you're
after, look for subsequent Marshmallow Coast albums....But if a batch of
funny, touching and incessantly melodic songs is what you crave, you'll feel at home
in Time Square. -- jj
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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 | bl - beth lucht | av - adam voith | rg - rodney gibbs
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