The Gourds
Considering that Haymaker! is the Gourds’ 11th release in just 11 years, I’d say that these fine Texans know a thing or two about making hay while the sun is shining. That’s not saying that this recording is merely more product, though … oh no. This outing is much more streamlined stylistically than last year’s explorative, contemplative Noble Creatures, and as such, the live quality of their production is much better suited to these songs. Haymaker! pendulums between straight-up country and The Gourds’ unique brand of alt-country. Of course, their lyrical witticism is prominently on display throughout these 14 songs. “Fossil Contender” is a perfect second track with jangly rhythm guitar, tasteful slide and emotive vocals. “The Way You Can Get” keeps the pace rollicking and offers the disc’s most wistful lyrics, while “Shreveport,” a welcome addition to the truckin’ pantheon, even name checks Geddy Lee. Yessir. Overall, the contrast of Kevin Russell’s twang-dipped vocal delivery and songwriting to Jimmy Smith’s plaintive approach keeps the entire disc entertaining. Their styles have never sounded as cohesive as they do here. The Gourds have certainly created a catalog of worthy music thus far; Haymaker! is perhaps their most refined and therefore their most rewarding too.
Jan 1st, 2009
The Secret Machines
The self-titled third full-length release from The Secret Machines is just about the best collection of new music released this year. Within eight jams stands one of the most towering monoliths of sound I’ve ever cast my ears upon. From these three gifted New York (by way of Texas) musicians thumps a mighty beat of dance/pop and a noisy cinema of aural images. It knocked me on my ass. The party gets started with huge drums and distorted guitar melodies on the dance-floor beacon “Atomic Heels,” and then seamlessly slides into “Last Believer, Drop Dead.” There, Brandon Curtis settles into the contemplative crystallization of being a “dream enthusiast” in a “graveyard of hopes.” Throughout, there is the faint realization that much more is going on than just stellar music, but as the melodies and delivery are so subtly intertwined, the lyrics are felt more than understood. “Underneath The Concrete,” a total vamp with hooks via synth and voice, is the last glimmer of levity. Henceforth, “The Walls are Starting to Crack” and the closing “The Fire is Waiting” are huge, cataclysmic draperies of dark emotion and production. Every moment of these recordings has impact. In all of the songs are touches of many influences, which are never groped, just caressed, innovated and invigorated – in the true spirit of artistry – by The Secret Machines’ own formidable creativity.
Dec 1st, 2008
IfIHadAHiFi
Fidelity is a concept by which we measure our pain, to paraphrase John Lennon. For music enthusiasts, there are numerous thresholds: melody, musicianship and production chief among them. In those aspects, Fame By Proxy, Milwaukee band IfIHadAHiFi’s third release proper, is a resounding artistic success. First of all, it’s damn exciting. Virtually every song is a rhythmic treat, with the drums not only laying down some nifty beats, but (in true post-hardcore fashion) actually serving as a lead instrument. Second, it’s well-executed, as opener “Defenestrate Me” demonstrates in tone and template: repetitive phrases tucked within some beautifully captured guitar and bass, overdriven to the max, with drums up the wazoo. Finally, it’s well-crafted. “Paradise by the Paulding Light” is the closest they actually get to full-on fucking a pop hook, otherwise flirting with it for the other 11 tracks. One, “Get Killed, Get Noticed,” is so breakneck and loose it feels like it’s about to just fall apart. Another, “Science Depends On Us,” is downright crafty in its self-realization. With touches of Fugazi (if they’d ever drink and loosen up) and many of Steve Albini’s projects, IfIHadAHiFi show that though they love to dress their music up in glorious noise. Their talents in the three above-mentioned thresholds are just too strong to be denied.
Oct 30th, 2008
Grails
Some folks label the Portland, OR band Grails instrumental. I deem it ambient or Narada metal. The prolific (and I use this term with a large measure of chagrin) quartet’s 9th release this millennium, Doomsdayer’s Holiday, really is just more of the same, and all the more agonizing because of it. The seven songs within dabble in a few textures, but all of it just blows wind (literally, in many unfortunate instances) and is entirely forgettable. Many have come before Grails, and to much better results. There’s “doom” metal (just grubby blues licks) on “Reincarnation Blues” and “Predestination Blues.” Then there are the aforementioned wind samples, high-fret guitar chimes, and recycled “large room” percussion on the opening title track. The only creative touch or compelling moment of any kind comes at the very end, with the Pink Floyd-apeing “Acid Rain.” All of these songs are frustrating in their sheer lack of direction and overall dullness. Virtually everything here is pretentious: the artwork (perhaps an homage to Danzig: naked breasts, check; power animal, check; fog, check; ominous trees, check), the songwriting (with ho-hum musicianship at best) and the production (will Steve Albini get royalties?). I can best describe this (and in fact, their entire output) as merely different joints all rolled from the same bag of weed. Now, I must ask you … have you ever smoked eight-yearold weed?
Oct 1st, 2008
Calexico
Someday, the members of Calexico will be considered trailblazers. While they travel through the terrain of Latin, folk, indie, country, western, film score and rootsy rock, they possess the uncanny ability to pick up pieces of these landscapes and simply bring them along to their next destination. They also possess a profound gift to weave all of these sonic threads into wonderfully cohesive textures, and Carried To Dust, their sixth collection proper, is their most ambitious tapestry yet. Opening with the Latin sprite of “Victor Jara’s Hands,” they deftly ease into “Two Silver Trees,” the first song to offer a faint whisper of vocal delivery. Unfortunately, this voice is used too much throughout the rest of the songs. “Inspiracion,” upbeat with bountiful horns, is a highlight among many, and “Contention City” is a beautiful lullaby soaked in melancholia. The production and instrumentation are exceptional, and a multitude of guest musicians – including the stellar Pieta Brown, Iron and Wine’s Sam Beam, and Willie Nelson sideman Mickey Raphael – add tastefully plaintive touches that pique the emotion. Erstwhile travelers, explorative craftsmen, and artisan weavesmiths: Carried To Dust is the embodiment of genuine expression that proves Calexico is all of these. It’s a recording of the highest caliber, featuring gales of dusty ruminations sun-steeped in experience and empathetic storytelling.
Sep 1st, 2008
The Melvins
The Melvins have done it again, folks. If you’re already an admirer of this legendary experimental band, which has spawned many a Cobain in its two and a half decades, this is a masterful return to the rock. If you aren’t a fanatic, but enjoy any percentage of the underground metal, alternative, hard rock, noise, punk, hardcore, post-core, ambient or art-wave bands inspired by these eternal originators, this recording is the perfect initiation to the fraternity of Melvinites. Nude With Boots is easily up there with their incredible early ‘90s string of Bullhead, Houdini, and Stoner Witch. Since that holy trinity, the band’s creativity has spread past all previous horizons (read above), but here the emphasis is on nothing but riff and impact. Lead track “The Kicking Machine” is a Zep-boogie riff with a buzz-throated vocal melody (that’s right, melody) that’s downright catchy (that’s right, catchy). Dale Cover’s drums are monstrous throughout, per usual. But he especially shines here with some nice footwork that keeps the beat firmly at the boundary of the pocket. After this opening salvo, they steer us into the noise-scape they do so well for a few songs. But they get in and get out seamlessly, and once they light into the title track, things are back at a locomotive sound and pace, slamming it all home.
Aug 1st, 2008
Beck
Beck Hansen, indie/pop/rock’s most accomplished Cancer, has just created his most original – and perhaps most sophisticated – guise. From songwriting to production to subject matter, Modern Guilt has a subtlety that separates it from his other work and serves as its greatest charm, no doubt influenced by his full-on collaboration with Danger Mouse in its making. Examined next to his prolific, excellent, yet somewhat muse-on-sleeve output (which includes one of the greatest break-up albums ever, Sea Change), this one is certainly his most intangible. The funk, the folk and the sonic collage are all reserved by a measure from his norm, and it’s all the more intoxicating as a result. True, lead single “Chemtrails” does carry more than a few strains of Serge Gainsbourg’s “Melody Nelson” chemistry in it, but it also has faint touches of Brian Wilson at the apex of his powers. “Youthless” is anything but, and with the title track and “Soul of a Man,” this trinity serves as a microcosm of the entire collection; within these touchstones, he’s searching for the soul of our times – today’s “meaning of it all.” In the past, you could put on a Beck record and know, within the first few moments, what to reach for: your dance shoes, a handkerchief, perhaps even a spliff. This one has all the hallmarks of great Beck rolled into a fleeting 30 minutes, with exceptional songwriting and well-crafted production. But there’s a veiled something extra to it … within the jam, perhaps, is a gem. The fun this time around is finding it.
Aug 1st, 2008
The Black Ghosts
In my lifelong predilection to condense a review to one word, this one would garner more of an escape of breath: “Eh.” Honestly, there just isn’t enough originality (or for that matter, anything compelling) within these 11 tracks to elicits more than that. Their moniker itself is groan-worthy: how many bands do we need with the “Black” adjective or “Ghost” subject, really? Oh, and their aim is to haunt and disquiet the listener with gothic eeriness. Whatever you say, guvnor. Obviously, these two Brits know what to do with the equipment. They’ve studied their Beck, Madonna, and early ‘90s Madchester scene. There are beats galore, with the requisite samples and sonic candy thrown in right where they should be. The tracklisting is near-perfect, with the moodier numbers spacing the upbeat disco and the (all too few!) fat-bottomed jams, which are without a doubt the highlight of the recording. Both “Until It Comes Again” and “Something New” are truly funky, with basslines that make me salivate. “Full Moon” features the collection’s best production, with acoustic guitars and strings that build to a nice crescendo. Unfortunately, the vocals never go anywhere: they don’t lie inside the instruments, nor illuminate the forgettable melodies. Although I’ve been highly critical of the templated songwriting and aesthetic, this is not a bad disc – I’ll just listen to my Codebreaker over it any day.
Jul 1st, 2008
My Morning Jacket
For all intents and (media) purposes, My Morning Jacket is at the crucial fulcrum of their career. Thanks to a catalog consistent in its evolution, they have cred galore (from the critics to the punters) and are revered as one of the best live acts today. So it’s crucial that Evil Urges, their fifth studio full-length, is the one that cements their status as a true American musical treasure and catapults them into the upper strata. Jim James throws down no less than four different voices within the 14 tracks. His falsetto is right on in the saccharine groove of opener “Evil Urges” and the tight, lean funk of “Highly Suspicious.” He handles the country psychedelia of “I’m Amazed” and “Thank You Too” smoothly, and he gets loud and playful on the rockers “Aluminum Park” and “Remnants.” And perhaps most gloriously, Jim evokes Nashville Skyline-era Dylan on the ascending, poignant and goddamn incredible “Librarian.” His performance throughout is simply masterful. The melodies are steeped in soul, with a nice measure of rock and roll. Lest we forget the band: the arrangements and production create the essential atmosphere for Jim to fly. Each instrument, though easily recognizable, slices and bends the air with an array of tones and rhythms that are fresh and that refresh. This recording comes at a perfect time for the rock community. It’s something all of us can put our arms around – and never let go.
Jun 1st, 2008
R.E.M.
“Accelerate” is the perfect title for this recording. After eight years of this millennium mired in a slow gear, seemingly lost on some road in the countryside of musical exploration, R.E.M. has picked up the pace and returned to the path they pretty much paved. This recording is thicker, brighter and much more confident in every aspect: songwriting, production and musicianship. The composition is pure and lean, with 11 tight songs that keep the focus on substance. It all works. Starting off with “Living Well is the Best Revenge,” Michael, Peter and Mike (with exemplary playing from second guitarist Scott McCaughey and drummer Bill Rieflin, whose work is the most urgent and propulsive in the band’s history) lay it all out for the listener. Co-Producer Jacknife Lee has situated each instrument in an incontrovertible sonic space/place. There’s a fresh sound throughout, yet it’s undeniably authentic to the band’s history. Beyond all the subtext of their redemption and rebirth, R.E.M. has not just crafted songs that are cohesive as a collection; they also stand up alongside much of their best work. And like the rest of R.E.M.’s best work, they have captured their muse in each song: four minutes or less of absolute essence. The back-to-back middle passage of “Accelerate” and “Until the Day Is Done” are prime examples: each of a different ilk, both undeniable in their certainty.
May 1st, 2008
The Gutter Twins
Saturnalia arrives amidst some very high anticipation. The stellar careers of Greg Dulli and Mark Lanegan, each spanning decades, evoke lofty expectations. They certainly need no historical introduction. All 12 songs on this CD are incredible. Taken as a whole, the aesthetic – from songwriting to production to track listing to artwork – is exceptionally crafted, with a cohesiveness that shows the true strength of this pairing. Individually, every single track connects to and transports the listener. What makes this more remarkable is the depth of subject matter and the emotional mining that must’ve gone on during writing. Both voices not only weave with one another effortlessly, but both actually carry the weight of the dark lyrics and melodies. Within these dozen songs, rock, blues, soul, folk and spiritualism are stripped to the core: naked, confused, perhaps weary, searching for warmth and shelter, utterly vulnerable. “Stations” starts things off with immediate mood, while “All Misery/Flowers” is outstanding with Dulli’s drumming providing ample groove. “Who Will Lead Us?” is Lanegan’s search for the here & now as well as the eternal. The last track, “Front St.,” doesn’t tie everything together, but it does leave you with the understanding of exactly what muse inspired these two artists. Simply stated: lay down your ego and let the songs possess you.
Apr 1st, 2008
The Mars Volta
Popular consensus holds that The Mars Volta reached their creative summit with their debut Deloused In The Comatorium. I would argue against this with the notion that creative masterminds Cedric Bixler-Zavala (vocals and melodies) and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez (guitar and creative direction) aren’t reaching upward – they’re reaching outward. These gentlemen are essentially a protean entity, constantly moving and shapeshifting within their own limits (a term one must use loosely). And while The Bedlam in Goliath, their fourth full-length in five years, doesn’t quite have the impact of their debut, it’s still effective and highly praiseworthy. Their melodies in particular cover new terrain. Album centerpieces “Wax Simulacra,” “Goliath” and “Tourniquet Man” contain Cedric’s most streamlined phrasings, even taking on a pure pop-couplet form at times. The music is still rhythmically aggressive – poly-Latin with a hardcore lean – with signature emphatic punctuations. The instrumental interplay is dynamic and cohesive throughout. Bedlam might not be their definitive work, but I’m not sure that’s the goal. They’re still a “tight as a mosquito’s ass” group of confident and explorative musicians, songwriters and sonic sculptors. “Definitive” implies a destination, and I don’t think they want to have one. (Though I’ll probably lose cool points, I strongly urge you to pick up the Best Buy edition, as it comes with a live DVD that showcases their fiery initiative, muscular chops and their definitively brilliant cover of The Sugarcubes’ classic “Birthday.”)
Mar 1st, 2008
Allison Moorer
Elegance: if there could ever be such a thing as a one-word review, that would be it for Mockingbird. On her sixth studio recording Allison Moorer set out to record a selection of songs that she hoped would make listeners treasure, encourage and pay attention to the female songwriter. It’s a fairly ambitious undertaking, and with Mockingbird, a resounding success. Allison puts her stamp on virtually every song, spanning an impressive spectrum. Moorer and producer Buddy Miller bring overdriven drums, an acoustic guitar and some subtly delayed piano to life on “Ring of Fire,” re-imagining the entire context of this important lyric while losing none of its strength. From there, she moves easily onto “Dancing Barefoot,” the Patti Smith gem, polishing it to a gleam. There’s a bit of rocking on this one: The Joni Mitchell favorite “Both Sides Now” is gorgeous and emotive under Moorer’s own blue light. But she saves the best for last: her version of Cat Power’s “Where Is My Love” is stunning and powerful. It’s haunting. It’s captivating. And it’s so real. Moorer doesn’t just play these songs, she appreciates them in earnest. Music of this magnitude elevates its listeners. I could’ve typed the first word of this review 100 times and left it at that. It’s just that good.
Feb 1st, 2008
Robert Plant/Alison Krauss
If you’re an Alison Krauss fan, this is another jewel in what must be a heavy crown. If you’re a Robert Plant enthusiast and have admired his career of lefts and rights, you should pick this one up. If you’re one of those Plant fans who are still waiting for “Achilles’ Second Last Stand,” you should pass.
Dec 1st, 2007
Bruce Springsteen
Bruce Springsteen’s career has been truly beyond reproach. Even those who aren’t fans have to acquiesce to the fact that he’s the definition of integrity in a business that thrives on the opposite. And while his popularity may have waned in the nineties, he still created provocative music that meant something both to him and to his audience. This is evidenced by recent releases from a number of young artists mining his sound and his aesthetic. Ah, but they could never be the real thing. And here in his 24th year of recording, Bruce produces yet another finely-crafted testament to his “Boss” title. Magic contains the most direct and immediate collection of rock music Bruce has put out since Born in the U.S.A. in 1984. The saxophone, the piano and the rest of the E Street Band are back in full regalia on songs like “Livin’ In The Future” and “I’ll Work For Your Love.” The driving rhythms, melodies and narratives are also back, particularly on “Last to Die.” But Bruce doesn’t stop there: on the title track he displays the entire spectrum of his talents as a creator. “Girls In Their Summer Clothes” is as innocent as it is wistful. And though it may turn some people off, there are also a number of songs that touch upon his acoustic, rootsy leanings, sparse and epic. Bruce makes albums that are the equivalent of audio novels. They tell stories, weave descriptions, paint landscapes and define characters. But he also always gives us a little prize wrapped in the theme of it all: the emotional resource that compels us to be the authors of our own existence. “Love (and attitude) is a power greater (and stronger) than death” he sings in his tribute to a deceased friend on the hidden track 12, “Terry’s Song.” Yep, that’s the magic.
Nov 1st, 2007
The Cocksmiths
I was busy looking for a shiny, elegant yacht to land upon my shore. Instead, what sailed in was this beat-up, high-octane, dirty old barge with a rowdy party spilling out of it – the kind you’d call the Coast Guard on. The new Cocksmiths CD Trouble Pill is Milwaukee-brewed rock ‘n’ roll, with emphasis on the rock. It’s the product of a true live band taking their set into the studio, banging out 13 songs in two days. You can practically hear the beer bottles hitting each other in the background. The slowest, most melodic and contemplative song on this set is titled “Bar Room”—’nuff said. Even Matty Gonzalez’s voice is whiskey-drenched throughout, telling you he got the party started before playing the first lick. Gonzalez also pulls guitar duty with Ryan Daniels and Paris Ortiz, with bassist Joey Carini and drummer Dave Schoepke driving it home. Almost everybody sings, in true barroom democracy fashion. The ‘Smiths (sorry, I just can’t abbreviate to The Cocks) expertly dovetail both the sound and the production with the songwriting: no frills. Having knocked around town in various configurations for over ten years and played together going on five, these guys certainly know a good live hook and riff. And while nothing here is creatively original, the guitar solos (and there are good amount of them) and vocals are delivered with razor-sharp skill, and most importantly, honesty. These guys mean it. The Cocksmiths can loosely be joined to the current hard-rock renaissance. Buckcherry, Velvet Revolver, even emo bands from the early part of the decade have “matured” into aggressive, cocked-locked-and-ready-to-rockers who want the top down and the pedal to the floor. The Cocksmiths easily keep pace with all of them. Put this sucker in your car on the way to drunksville, and look me up when you arrive.
Oct 1st, 2007
Danbert Nobacon
Danbert Nobacon has earned his place in the canon of well-known unknowns. Kicking around in Leeds since the late ‘70s, Nobacon was a founder and vocalist of Chumbawamba, which though they only had one international radio hit (1997’s “Tubthumping” ) managed to keep the royalties flowing and the tours rolling until the band’s demise in 2004. Now he’s back on Chicago’s Bloodshot Records with a debut solo outing that only a certified veteran could produce. Although the impact of Nobacon’s musical offering is felt upon first listen, it’s also one of those “creepers,” “sleepers” or “seepers” (however you want to word it) wherein the songs and the downright artistry involved only open up after repeated exposure. The rewards are great – almost revelatory – but the extra investment is required to fully appreciate the treasure within. Despite how one might be predisposed to view The Library Book of the World given Chumbawamba’s history, this is not one-hit wonder, get-rich quick, use-once-and-destroy pop music. It’s also not a bludgeon and impale, politicking musical manifesto. It’s artfully layered, full of lyrical twists and turns that include insidious declarations, wholesome ruminations, contemptuous wordplays and, perhaps most of all, damn good music. The arrangements are sparse for the most part, which gives the songs and their subject matter the wind to sail. All in all, it’s the work of a songwriter who is a journeyman at his craft, reaching what he’s after creatively. These are songs for the tavern, both the stage and the bar. And though Danbert’s voice is a bit of an acquired taste, his delivery is impeccable. It seethes with the integrity of conviction, sways with the power of knowledge and soothes with the empathy of experience. There’s an underlying vein of humor throughout the disc, but in the end, what else is there in the face of unrelenting, apathetic ignorance?
Sep 1st, 2007
The Gourds
Here’s the setting: You’re outside on a warm summer day; there’s a nice breeze and some good conversation flowing and you have a tasty beverage in hand. You hear some music and decide to stroll under the tent to check it out. It ain’t earth-shifting, life-affirmation stuff, but it’s well-played and gets your fingers tapping – in all, pleasant. The same setting could be metaphorically applied to the new Gourds album, Noble Creatures. There’s nothing here that will change your world, but it is a great soundtrack by which to pass some time. Noble Creatures does add another dimension to the band’s considerable recorded history with “Promenade” and “Steeple Full of Swallows.” Both are ballads of particular interest, as they keep with The Gourds’ well-honed songcraft of hitting the mark intellectually and emotionally. The production has a very live “soundboard” feel, which unfortunately undermines the actual quality of the songs. In fact, it disables the disc from ever getting out of the tent, hopelessly miring Noble Creatures under the canvas of a much-narrowed band of appreciative listeners. Even so, artists should always be commended for stepping off the familiar path and creating something new…in that sense, this effort truly is noble. VS
Jul 1st, 2007
