Brad Mehldau - Live in Tokyo Nonesuch
Reviewed by Adam D. Miller
Album rating: 
To jazz purists, Brad Mehldau may seem like somewhat of a traitor. Look no further than the track listings for most of his albums for a reason. Titles like “Exit Music (For A Film)” and “Blackbird” do not exactly recall jazz standards so much as pop songs. That’s probably because they are pop songs. And yet, Mehldau is a master jazz pianist with an incredible sense of rhythm and knack for improvisation.
Classically trained from a young age, he studied jazz at New York's New School for Social Research, and went on to play and record with sax player Joshua Redman. In 1994, Mehldau formed his own trio and with them recorded a series of interesting albums that showcase his skilled playing and eclectic taste in music. The young pianist is clearly a fan of music that goes far beyond Gershwin, Thelonious Monk, and Bill Evans. He is known to perform songs by The Beatles, Nick Drake, and Radiohead as well.
Live In Tokyo gathers eight songs performed without a band in Japan. The result is quite impressive, considering the complexity of the arrangements and the fact that there is no drummer or bassist to help keep the tempo or meter consistent. Musically, it continues in largely the same vein as his previous work, with a pair of Gershwin pieces (“Someone To Watch Over Me” and “How Long Has This Been Going On?”) balanced with a pair of Nick Drake songs (“River Man” and “Things Behind The Sun”). The most ambitious track however, is one that has been released in a variety of forms from Mehldau already: a solo piano rendition of Radiohead’s “Paranoid Android.” It is on this track in particular that Mehldau is able to prove his worthiness as an improvisationalist. While some would simply create elevator muzak out of an instrumental performance of a popular song like “Paranoid Android,” Mehldau manages to make it a work of his own, much like the other songs showcased here. From their applause, the audience is clearly captivated.
It is refreshing to hear a young jazz artist who forays into the mainstream without sacrificing his credibility. While the jazz snobs may frown upon his translations of Radiohead and Nick Drake, one can only applaud Mehldau for using his skill in such an interesting and entertaining way.
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Reviewed by Adam D. Miller
The story of Smile has become legend among musicians and self-proclaimed music aficionados alike. Everyone knows that in 1966 Brian Wilson released his pop masterpiece Pet Sounds, an album that contained such gems as “God Only Knows” and “Wouldn’t It Be Nice.” It went on to influence countless songwriters, including Paul McCartney, who credits the album as the reason The Beatles made Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. Not as many people realize that the album Wilson was preparing with lyricist Van Dyke Parks, along with limited involvement from The Beach Boys, as a follow-up to Pet Sounds was an even more innovative affair. The album was set to be released in early 1967, only to be pulled by Wilson at the last minute with little explanation.
In the years since, Smile has become the most bootlegged and written about “lost album” of all time. Fragments were released on rarities compilations and a box set. Songs intended for the project were re-recorded by The Beach Boys since 1967 and included on later albums like Smiley Smile and Surf’s Up. The album’s coda, “Good Vibrations”, on the other hand, resulted in one of the Beach Boys biggest hit singles. And yet aside from that track, most of the released versions of Smile songs paled in comparison to the original 1967 recordings, even those that were unfinished.
For decades, fans have wondered what the album would sound like as a finished product. That is, until now. 37 years after Smile was originally intended for release, Brian Wilson announced shows in London to unveil his finished masterpiece. He called up Van Dyke Parks and the pair finished composing and sequencing the songs that had largely gone untouched for decades. The concerts were a huge success, and Wilson returned to the studio with his touring band to record it properly.
The result is nothing short of brilliant. And I don’t even mean the “brilliant” that gets thrown around by music critics consistently. This is the best album I have heard in a long time. It is a moving experience, hearing this gorgeous music that has gone unrecognized by the masses for so many years. It employs the same musical innovation as Pet Sounds but manages to upstage it, both musically and lyrically.
Part of what makes Smile such an interesting affair is that it is structured like a concerto. The album has three “movements” that flow together seamlessly. Opening with the haunting chanting of “Our Prayer/Gee”, the album that has been released in a variety of sequences and forms has been glued into an order that cannot be disrupted, even if CD technology gives us the option. “Heroes & Villains” is the album’s first masterpiece, with the Smile version running for much longer than the alternate that ended up on Smiley Smile. Beautiful songs like “Surf’s Up”, “Wonderful” and “Wind Chimes” are balanced with musical lunacy on “Roll Plymouth Rock” and the instrumental “Mrs. O’Leary’s Cow.” After a return to the echoing notes of “Our Prayer” at the end of “In Blue Hawaii” the album concludes with the hit “Good Vibrations”, with new lyrics that leave us much more captivated by this strange and powerful thing that is Smile. Music that is familiar and brand new at the same time, thirty-seven years in the making. The result is an album that is undeniably better than Pet Sounds, and dare I say it, even better than Sgt. Pepper.
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Cake - Pressure Chief Columbia
Reviewed by Russell Bartholomee
There are two schools of thought where new releases by established bands are concerned. One school is happiest when each record is an attempt by the artist to push themselves into a new and challenging direction, unwilling to rest on previously earned laurels (for instance, Radiohead fans who appreciate Kid A and OK Computer). The other group expects consistency of sound from their favorite artists, considers new directions “selling out,” and pines for a return to form when any substantial changes occur (for instance, Radiohead fans who hope every new album will be another The Bends).
If you’re a Cake fan, I have either good news or bad news about their newest release, depending on the school of thought to which you belong. Pressure Chief is a lot like Comfort Eagle, which was remarkably similar to Prolonging the Magic, which was like unto Fashion Nugget, which was comparable in style to Motorcade of Generosity. That is to say it’s a fine collection of quirky songs with all the elements you’ve come to expect from Cake. It’s also to say that if you found that formula to be tiresome by the band’s third album, it won’t be any less so on its fifth.
Even though I usually like it when bands explore new sonic territory, I have to say I’m glad that Pressure Chief doesn’t try to break any new ground. In a way it’s reassuring to know that every couple of years, Cake will put out a record I already know I’m going to like. Perhaps Cake’s name is less an ironic moniker and more a hint as to how they go about recording records—by following a specific recipe: Mix funny lyrics delivered in deadpan vocals with tinny guitars, add trumpet warbles, tight beats, stir in bass-driven grooves, and a dash of P-Funk keyboard part for good measure.
Sing-a-long choruses? Check (see “No Phone” and “Dime.”). Surreal lyrics with just a touch of humorous social commentary? It’s in there (“In a CD karaoke bar by the banks of the mighty Bosphorus / Is a Japanese man in a business suit singing “Smoke Gets in your Eyes” / And the muscular cyborg German dudes dance with sexy French Canadians / While the overweight Americans wear their patriotic jumpsuits”). Ironic cover of a song by a has-been artist? You betcha (Bread’s “The Guitar Man.”). I’d be disappointed if a new Cake record didn’t have a few hip hop beats and John McCrea’s patented “Aaaalright…Oooookay.” Wouldn’t you?
So if you were hoping Pressure Chief would be a departure for the band, you might want to sit this one out. If, on the other hand, you love every slice of Cake you’ve tasted so far, chances are good that you’ll love this one, too. They’re still doing very well at what they have always done. Perhaps McCrae says it best on the album’s closer, “Tougher Than It Is.” “Well the more you try to shave the cat / The more the thing will bite and scratch / It’s best I think to leave its fur and to listen to its silky purr / Some people like to make life a little tougher than it is.” Why push the envelope when you can phone it with such tasty results?
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Clinic - Winchester Cathedral Domino
Reviewed by Mark Pittman
I know Clinic must have had a hard time trying to figure out how to keep their studiedly “cool” style intact without repeating themselves on their new album. I personally had no idea how they could pull it off.
They didn’t.
With their first album, Internal Wrangler, Clinic demonstrated that it was actually possible to heap together the coolest instruments (Hammond organ, melodica, spy guitar), the coolest influences (Velvet Underground, 13th Floor Elevators, Gang of Four) and the coolest production techniques (reverb, more reverb) without creating an absolutely god-awful mess. Actually, it sounded just as cool as intended, only the songs lacked distinctiveness.
That changed somewhat with Walking with Thee, Clinic’s second album. The overpowering production got toned down a bit and the actual songs began to be heard. “Welcome” and “For the Wars,” in particular, were as good as anything put out that year.
As for the follow-up to Walking with Thee, there were reports that Clinic was using all sorts of new instruments and that their new album, Winchester Cathedral, would show Clinic moving in new and amazing directions.
Throw in the new disc and, yes, immediately there is a new and interesting sound: a persistent high beep we haven’t heard the masked ones use before, but that works well in their cool-to-cold sound world. Maybe that’s where they’re going - mixing inorganic keyboard sounds with warmer Hammond organ sounds. Sounds promising. But then the inorganic beep speeds up, someone starts fooling around with some wind chimes, and the illusion of “cool” quickly gets lost.
Clinic isn’t moving in new, amazing directions. As you know if you’ve heard much Clinic before, they have a shtick. Previously, I personally could ignore this shtick because of its novelty and because Clinic’s songs were improving. But no more. The new “songs” can be divided into two categories:
1. Sounds like an inferior version of a song from a previous album
2. Sounds like Clinic trying to introduce a new “cool” musical genre (klezmer, 60’s lounge jazz, 6/8 German dance) to the Clinic sound world
Neither type of song works: 1) for obvious reasons, 2) because an overly familiar musical genre mixed with a newer but similarly overly familiar style just produces a boring, confusing mess. Yes, admittedly it could have worked. With enough talent, a band can mix anything together and make it work. But how to convey the sense I have that Clinic tried so little to make anything special out of this album that you should be offended if you actually purchased it?
As far as new sounds are concerned, most are produced by half a dozen percussion instruments, used infrequently and ineffectively. I’m sorry, but maracas have no place in a Clinic song, even for a second.
But I can’t help but wonder that if some of these percussion instruments were used continuously in a song if it would change my preconception of what the Clinic sound is. In the end, I feel like the elderly woman in the Woody Allen joke complaining both about the restaurant’s bad food but also their small portions. At just over 36 minutes, I could make that claim for the whole album, as well.
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The Delgados - Universal Audio Chemikal Underground
Reviewed by Dan Crosby
The announcement of the Delgados' new album, Universal Audio, excited me, even though the promise that this would be their "pop album" worried me a bit. Each of the Delgados' albums has brought a new and unexpected sound; if it weren't for the distinctive vocals of Alun Woodward and Emma Pollock, you might not know you were listening to the same band. From the garage-rock sound of Domestiques to the mystical, fairy tale quality (liberally accompanied by strings and woodwinds!) of Peloton and The Great Eastern to the booming sounds and sarcastic lyrics of 2002's Hate, the Delgados have shown a wonderfully charming ability to reinvent themselves. I only hoped they could make "pop" charming too.
The first single off the new album, "Everybody Come Down," only increased my fears, even as it evidently got significant air time in their native Scotland. It's eminently listenable, even catchy, for what it is: a sugar-coated, electronicized bit of light guitar-pop. But that isn't really what I wanted from a band of such talent. The other preview clips, released on their web site (www.delgados.co.uk), only slightly alleviated those fears.
It wasn't until several listens through the album that I decided that the Delgados really have produced some gems for Universal Audio. "Get Action!" is simple but brilliant. Contrary to Delgados tradition, the lyrics here actually make sense when taken together, and what sounds at first like typical indie-rock angst becomes a hopeful message. Alun Woodward leads on this track, along with the very different but equally sharp "Bits of Bone." Emma Pollock's top efforts on this album are "The City Consumes Us" and "Keep on Breathing," but she unfortunately adopts a high-pitched girly pop-singer voice for the otherwise interesting "Girls of Valour" and the downright abominable "Come Undone." She also does a presumably unintentional Sheryl Crow impression for "Sink or Swim," which nonetheless remains a decent listen. Emma's beautiful voice has lifted some of the Delgados' earlier masterpieces, but her talents feel largely wasted on this album. Alun doesn't turn in a perfect record either, as evidenced by the awful "Now & Forever" which finishes the album.
Only the most hardcore fanboys are likely to call this album brilliant; in fact, I would rate this fourth or fifth of the Delgados' five albums, comparable only with the early and unpolished Domestiques. Listen a few times, though, and you'll likely find this one pleasant, and at times much more than just pleasant. I even eventually found myself singing along to "Everybody Come Down." Sure, it's got enough syrup to stock that new Manhattan IHOP, but at least it's good syrup.
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Elvis Costello - Il Sogno Deutsche Grammophon
Reviewed by Russell Bartholomee
When I heard Elvis Costello was releasing two albums on the same day – one a southern-tinged rocker (The Delivery Man) and the other a symphonic work – I was quite conflicted. Full disclosure: I don't usually like it when Elvis makes a non-rock record. I greatly prefer the fierce fury of This Year's Model or the pop perfection of Imperial Bedroom to Costello’s occasional excursions outside the realm of rock. While I appreciate his drive to explore other genres, the results have been mixed at best. Having been disappointed to varying degrees by the wildly uneven The Juliet Letters, the meandering Painted From Memory, the pretentious For the Stars, and the pretty-but-repetitive North, I was not looking forward to Elvis Costello’s debut as a classical composer.
I’m pleased to say that I was wrong about Il Sogno. Recorded at Abbey Road Studios and performed by the London Symphony Orchestra under the direction of Michael Tilson Thomas, the piece is a delight from start to finish. Originally commissioned as the score for an Italian ballet company’s production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream (“il sogno” is Italian for “the dream”), Costello modified the music to stand alone. And while it may seem to be faint praise, this is easily the best classical venture by any member of the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame (paging Sir Paul…).
Costello shows an impressive flair for classical composition. Clearly this is because he has listened to and absorbed elements from great composers that preceded and inspired him. And the evident influences are wide-ranging. In places, Il Sogno recalls the Americana of Copeland, the folk instrumentation of Bartok, and the hypnotic majesty of Ravel’s Bolero. It is not a strictly classical affair; there are also unmistakable elements of Mancini, Ellington and Gershwin, as well as hints of “On Broadway” in the magnificent “Oberon and Titania.” That is not to say that Il Sogno is merely derivative. Costello skillfully blends these disparate influences into a cohesive whole that pays homage without sounding like an imitation.
It's not a masterpiece, but it's much better than anyone could have reasonably expected. While challenging in spots, it avoids the harsh dissonance that plagues much modern classical music. Often achingly beautiful, it avoids syrupy sweetness. At its best, it approaches the strength of works by the composers mentioned above. At its worst, it has the quality of a fine film score—certainly nothing to be ashamed of. Il Sogno actually makes me hope that Costello will compose additional symphonic works. I still prefer him as a rock ‘n’ roller, but this is a very rewarding release. And even my mother will like it.
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Elvis Costello & The Imposters - The Delivery Man Lost Highway
Reviewed by Brighid Mooney
Since its release, Elvis Costello's latest album, The Delivery Man, has been called many things: A roots record, country soul, and, most ubiquitously, a "return to form." But for an artist like Costello, the phrase "return to form" doesn't mean much. Even in his early, angry days, Costello sang live covers of Burt Bacharach tunes, bowed to the kings of R&B and put out an entire album of country covers. His willingness to experiment with genre and style has only increased since then, from collaborations with the likes of Bacharach and Paul McCartney to a classical album with the Brodsky Quartet. In between all of this eclecticism he has been consistently writing thoughtful, introspective songs about rejection, guilt and infidelity. What most critics seem to mean by "return to form" is that Costello is finally rocking again, like he's supposed to. But far be it for Elvis Costello to do anything that he's supposed to do. The Delivery Man, released on the same day as his first orchestral score (Il Sogno) and recorded at Oxford, Mississippi's Sweet Tea Studio, features both country and soul ballads, primal, chaotic rockers and retro rock and roll. Rather than a return to form, Costello breaks character with The Delivery Man by writing one of his least personal albums to date. In the past, Costello's albums have often been marked by a discernible contempt for humanity and disgust with the world while incorporating an equal measure of self-loathing and shame. On The Delivery Man, Costello largely leaves himself out of it, instead telling the story of Abel, the title character, and three women whose lives he affects when he passes through their southern town.
The album starts with the raucous and raving "Button My Lip," a vicious, desperate song replete with manic screams and wicked laughter. "Buttom My Lip" ends with Costello repeatedly proclaiming "I am the mighty and the magnificent," as we get a startling introduction to the mysterious and dangerous Abel. The other characters on The Delivery Man are given a voice as the album progresses, with Costello getting vocal assistance from both Lucinda Williams, who gives a spectacularly unhinged performance as Vivien in the countrified rocker "There's a Story In Your Voice," and Emmylou Harris, who accompanies Costello in the ballads "Nothing Clings Like Ivy" and "Heart Shaped Bruise" as well as the album's sparse, hushed closer "The Scarlet Tide." Interwoven with the story-telling songs are several that give us a glimpse into the world outside of the story. "Monkey To Man" is an answer song, fifty years later, to Dave Bartholomew's "The Monkey." “Needle Time" is Costello's bluesy sneer toward a whole handful of nameless adversaries. There's also "Bedlam," which stands out as one of the most frantic and straight-aiming songs Costello has ever written. Not quite as haphazard as the title suggests, "Bedlam" manages to run the course from Joseph and Mary to George W. Bush in a matter of minutes. Costello's point seems fairly clear as he sings about the man who was "bowing like an actor acknowledging applause, playing the crusader who was conquering the moors." "Bedlam" takes a panoramic view of religious war throughout history, highlighting the insanity of humanity since time began, and making the point that those horrible atrocities done in the name of God are not only confined to the history books or to faraway lands. "Though I seemed a long way from my home," Costello sings, "it really was no distance."
The Delivery Man doesn't always feel like a cohesive album, with Costello switching back and forth between up-tempo rock and slow-burning ballads, but somehow the songs all come together to create a bigger scope than simply the characters in his story. Instead, we get a broader view of fledgling mankind and the microcosmic world of Costello's characters snuggled within it. Rugged and raw, The Delivery Man is Elvis Costello's successful return to musical exploration and satisfying his own musical curiosities. Not that he ever really stopped. Here's hoping he never does.
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Gentleman Reg - Darby & Joan Three Gut Records
Reviewed by Adam M. Anklewicz
Gentleman Reg (Reginald Vermue) is also known as a member of The Hidden Cameras and occasional guest with Broken Social Scene. Darby & Joan is his third album, and it’s amazing. Sounding like a cross between Rufus Wainwright and Belle & Sebastian frontman Stuart Murdoch, Reg’s voice is odd but pleasant.
The opening track, “Bundle,” gets the listener into the album right away. Reg’s voice immediately stands out in front of a well-crafted 1960s pop sound, sounding like Rubber Soul-era Beatles or Gene Clark’s Byrds. With an ability to craft his songs like a pro, “Bundle” is the perfect example of Reg’s musical accomplishments.
Other highlights include “The Boyfriend Song,” which proves to be the catchiest track on the album. Simple in comparison to the other songs, with its muted guitar, Reg sings this beautiful love song reminiscent of early Belle & Sebastian, pleading for his boyfriend to return. “Get It Together” is another catchy tune of Reg’s, keeping the album bouncy and full of life. The chorus is another masterpiece of pop music, note-to-note, chord-to-chord, always with heart and always shining.
The first single from the album, “It’s Not Safe,” features Jay Ferguson of Sloan on guitar. An odd choice for a single, “It’s Not Safe” is not the best track on the album and is not as catchy as some of the others. The lyrics describe a trip to California, peering out the tiny windows of an airplane and telling of the landscape outside. Unfortunately, the verse is very slow to build. It eventually builds to the chorus, which is catchy, but takes too long to please a radio-oriented audience.
As a member of The Hidden Cameras, Gentleman Reg has been in the background. Here he stands on his own as an amazing songwriting, shining with the brilliance of some of the best pop the world has seen since Belle & Sebastian’s The Boy With The Arab Strap.
Perhaps one of the best albums of the year so far, Darby & Joan might have been a smash hit if it weren’t for slow moments like “Navy Brown,” a slow ballad that pales in comparison to the rest of the album. Reg is not a balladeer and this song perhaps keeps the album from the nearly impossible five stars.
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Guided By Voices - Half Smiles of the Decomposed Matador-
Reviewed by Mark Pittman
As you’ve probably heard, Guided By Voices is calling it quits at the end of this year, which means that this latest album will also be their last. But since Robert Pollard himself isn’t quitting music - and since he really is Guided by Voices - Half Smiles could be considered both as a review of what we like, love, and dislike about Guided by Voices and also as a preview of what we might expect from Pollard’s future solo work.
If there were ever an iTunes album, Half Smiles is it. At least half the tracks are required Guided by Voices listening. Nearly the same number are throwaways. Hearing only the first half of Half Smiles, you’d be forgiven for thinking this could be the best GBV album since Alien Lanes: it’s more consistent than anything since Isolation Drills; more varied than anything since Mag Earwhig!; less padded with GBV-style filler than anything since Under the Bushes Under the Stars. Unfortunately, that’s only true of Side One.
Most of the good songs are typical examples of what we’ve come to expect from Guided by Voices. For instance, we get (and are grateful for):
-The Big, Blue, Straight Ahead Rocker: “Everybody Thinks I’m a Raincloud (When I’m Not Looking)”
-The High-Octane Rocker: “The Closets of Henry”
-The “Marching Off to Glory” Anthem / Song About Girls: “Girls of Wild Strawberries”
-The Absolute Classic Pop Song: “Huffman Prairie Flying Field, Gonna Never Have to Die”
Unfortunately, we also get a lot of we’ve come to expect from – and what we’ve learned to avoid on – the more recent albums:
-The Boring Epic/Relationship Song: “Tour Guide At The Winston Churchill Memorial,” “A Second Spurt of Growth,” “(S)mothering and Coaching”
-The Plodding, Macho Song: “Asphyxiated Circle,” “Sons of Apollo,” “Sing For Your Meat”
-The Indulgent Chords-and-Vocal Song: “Sing For Your Meat,” “(S)mothering and Coaching”
-The Sappy Ballad: “Window of My World”
Sometimes the good comes with the bad. “Window of My World,” for instance, starts off as a teeth-gnashingly ditsy ballad, much like “Hold On Hope.” Actually, it’s worse. But halfway-through, the song somehow reinvents itself into a Who-like, reverb-drenched, spiritual anthem that makes its awful verses completely irrelevant. Put it on the A-list.
The two remaining A-List songs are unlike anything Guided By Voices has ever done. “Asia Minor” sounds like the perfect B-side, with Bob Pollard singing wistfully and quietly as if he doesn’t want to distract you from your reading. Bell-like piano and appegiated guitar provide the subtly pretty backing track. Even the big distorted chorus seems genteel somehow. Was this some sort of experiment? Very interesting either way.
The other good song sounds like one of the songs Pollard has reportedly tried to write for his pals The Strokes. “Sleep Over Jack” is a very straight, almost new wave song, but with a dark mood and an interestingly world-weary vocal from Pollard. The band arrangement, the stop-start lines, the production, Pollard’s singing style—everything is new. And it’s most definitely good. There’s nothing in the song that sounds anything like Guided by Voices, but you accept it and hope that it’s possibly an indication Pollard will still be able to amaze us with something new in our upcoming GBV-less era. Here’s hoping Bob never stops.
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The Jones Thing – A Comfortable Pair
Reviewed by Russell Bartholomee
You know when you get a song stuck in your head, and it just won’t leave you alone? You’re trying to sleep and the melody keeps replaying, again and again. You wake up and find yourself humming that cool Moog keyboard part. In the shower, in the car, at work, you keep singing one little snippet of lyrics from the chorus. You know what I mean? That’s been happening to me a lot lately. And it’s Jeff Jones’ fault.
Who’s Jeff Jones? He’s the songwriter for The Jones Thing, the Dallas, Texas-based band whose songs are keeping me up nights. Fortunately for me, his songs are really good, so having them crammed in my cranium isn’t such a bad thing. The Jones Thing’s brand new record is called A Comfortable Pair, and it’s a smashing set of thirteen songs that demands to be played repeatedly. At times reminiscent of XTC, Sugar, and Trash Can Sinatras, the album is full of complex song structures, clever lyrics, and unstoppable hooks.
Besides penning the tunes, Jones plays rhythm guitar and provides the lead vocals—and does both exceptionally. His voice serves the material well and reminds me of a cross between Andy Partridge and whichever guy from The Barenaked Ladies can actually sing.
In spite of what the name may suggest, however, The Jones Thing is not a one-man band. He is joined on the record by band members Trey Carmichael (drums) and Eric Neal (lead guitar, bass, violin, vocals, kitchen sink). Both are veterans of the Dallas music scene, and both bring their considerable expertise to The Jones Thing. Carmichael plays drums perfectly to suit each song, eschewing the showboating that so many others can’t seem to avoid. And Neal’s violin work is only slightly less impressive than his excellent lead guitar work. The rest of A Comfortable Pair’s sonic landscape is filled out with the capable help of friends Chris Cannon and Carter Albrecht on keyboards. (Since the album’s release, bassist Joe Schwartzott and keyboardist Chris Holt have been added to the band’s lineup).
While there is no filler on the record, some songs shine a bit brighter than others. The album’s opener, “Electricitii,” (pronounced ‘electrici-tie’) is a fantastic piece of work, blending jangle-pop guitars with an ultracool keyboard riff that will force your toes to tap. This is the one that rattles around in my head in the wee small hours of the morning. Another stunning song is “More or Less.” Its melody, at first merely gorgeous, becomes breathtaking when the harmony vocals join the chorus. Neal’s lush violin perfectly compliments Jones’ sweeping vocals in “The Theater,” a song that could easily be found on a Trash Can Sinatras album. And there may not be a more hit-worthy song than “Saturday Morning TV Action Superstar,” though I can’t help but wonder if the 80s retro keyboard horn parts would be more effective with live horns.
Lyrically, the album is whip-smart and funny. “Margaret the Liar” describes a girl who never lets the truth get in the way of a good story (“Her ninety nationalities / Fifteen universities / And every job that’s known to man are hers”). Evidently a commentary on the current political landscape, “We Were Trained” is a very successful extended railroad metaphor (“We ride the blinds, conductor / Hides inside his steel caboose / And on the side the flagman's / Waving no white flag of truce”). Jeff Jones turns a phrase well.
If I have a complaint about this record, it’s only that it could sound even better if this band had a record deal and financing for studio time with a top-notch producer. (Somebody sign these guys). That’s not to disparage the fine work of producer Paul Williams. In fact, for a self-financed independently produced record, A Comfortable Pair is really quite remarkable.
If you like your pop music intelligently written, with accomplished musicianship and hooky melodies that won’t quit, you should pick up this disc. And if we’re lucky, we’ll be able to look forward to further releases by this promising band. I hope so, because as good as A Comfortable Pair is, I’m already jonesing for more.
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Madeleine Peyroux – Careless Love Rounder
Reviewed by Adam D. Miller
Careless Love is the second album by Madeleine Peyroux, a jazz singer who I definitely had thought was French-Canadian, but recently discovered was actually from Athens, Georgia. No matter. She’s still utterly convincing on “J’ai Deux Amours.” Her time spent in Paris must have been well spent.
But I’m jumping way ahead of myself. Madeleine Peyroux is a refreshing listen when stacked up against the pretentious jazz chanteuses who clearly know nothing of the material they are singing. Her voice is subdued and her range is limited, but these tactics manage to keep her clear of the obnoxious, which means I am as likely to enjoy this album as my father.
The best thing about Careless Love is the song selection. Whoever’s idea it was to combine songs that are bordering ancient (W.C. Handy’s “Careless Love”) with great songs that yet to be covered by anyone else (Elliott Smith’s “Between The Bars”, a definite album highlight) was a genius. And the covers are what make up most of the album. But the whole point is that they are not the overdone jazz standards one comes to expect on albums by other female jazz singers. Other highlights include Leonard Cohen’s “Dance Me To The End Of Love” and Bob Dylan’s “You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go,” the latter managing to effectively abandon the somehow-positive despair of the Blood On The Tracks original, focusing more on the heartbreak that the lyrics convey.
One of the album’s tracks, “Don’t Wait Too Long,” was co-written by Jesse Harris. Some may remember Harris as a songwriting member of Norah Jones’ band on her debut Come Away With Me. In fact, he was responsible for writing the album’s smash hit “Don’t Know Why.” One wonders if the success of Norah Jones inspired Madeleine Peyroux to record a follow-up to her 1996 album Dreamland. Whatever the inspiration to return to studio was, one can only hope that the wait won’t be too long before Peyroux graces us with her tender voice and interesting song selections again.
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R.E.M. – Around the Sun Warner Bros
Reviewed by Shel Desormeaux
It’s irrational, but I get scared every time these guys come out with another album. Peter Buck used to joke (threaten) about what would happen when they entered what he called their “Sting years.” I took that to heart, you know. Like if you eat watermelon seeds, and then dirt… well, no, not like that. But kind of.
Okay, so I liked it. “Wander Lust” got me all misty and nostalgic. It reminds me of their earlier days in ways I can’t put my finger on. I think it was when Michael was just finding his voice and was enjoying that. When read the jacket and saw that Q-Tip was a guest voice on “The Outsiders,” I’ll admit I was afraid it would sound a little obnoxious, but I was relieved. It was more low-key and plaintive than KRS-One on “Radio Song,” but both men have their place and it’s all right. I wish it had been the first track.
But one song in particular, “Electron Blue,” is out of place. It doesn’t sound so in the first listen, but if you mix the songs up, it’s the sore thumb. It doesn’t sound like it belongs anywhere. A lot of the songs seem out of place, or just painful. Some of the lyrics are on the trite side and I don’t think they were supposed to be funny. I just want to say that it hurts me – deep down inside – when Michael sings “Now I know that the sun has shined on my side of the street/the basket of America” and channels John Denver. Dude.
I love R.E.M. like I love no one else, and this album isn’t a piece of crap. But I think I’m saying that maybe they should call it a night. This isn’t a bad thing: Mike Mills has golf, Michael Stipe has his production company, and Peter Buck is in 17 other bands. Despite what Stipe says, R.E.M. still maintains a certain level of relevance in that they are one of the most oft-cited bands when it comes to who’s influencing newer bands. They’re card-carrying legends, they’re superb musicians and they can do whatever the hell they want. If Around the Sun was their goal at this point, that’s great. If it’s not exactly what they signed up for, then perhaps the gents should step away from the zither. They don’t sound like they want to be there.
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Robyn Hitchcock - Spooked Yep Roc
Reviewed by Russell Bartholomee
Robyn Hitchcock has made consistently great records throughout his career, with very few exceptions. In the late 1970s, his work with the Soft Boys paved the way for the likes of REM, Camper Van Beethoven, and the Replacements. With the Egyptians, Hitchcock made some of the best records of the burgeoning alternative rock scene of the 1980s and early 1990s. And as a solo artist, he has prolifically released largely acoustic collections of songs displaying his signature sardonic wit and brilliant melodies. While his commercial success has never matched his critical acclaim, it is his solo work that has been most overlooked by the music-buying public. Considering that these have been some of his best records, that’s a shame. Hopefully his latest release—the magnificent Spooked—will fare better.
Brilliant and beautiful, Spooked is the result of a collaboration between the eccentric Englishman and the distinguished duo of Gillian Welch and David Rawlings. After meeting at one of the pair’s shows in London and realizing that they were fans of each other’s music, the suggestion of recording together was made. Sitting together in a Nashville studio, playing live without headphones or guitar pickups, the trio spent six days recording a bunch of Bob Dylan songs and Hitchcock’s new tunes.
The final product is extraordinary; there is not a weak moment to be found. Much of this is due to the contribution of Welch and Rawlings to both the musical accompaniment and the harmony vocals. Especially astounding is how natural the collaboration sounds. It’s as if these three have been playing and singing together for ages. But it is also due to the strength of Hitchcock’s songwriting. Melodic, witty, and often devastatingly lovely, the songs of Spooked are, simply put, among the best songs he has penned.
The first cut, “Television,” is a tender love song to the tube (“Television, say you love me / Television, say you care…”). The frantic “Everybody Needs Love,” sounds very much like one of the best George Harrison songs you never heard, with Hitchcock on sitar and Welch providing lush background vocals. “Demons and Fiends” features Rawlings on sporadic dobro in an otherwise a capella (and very spooky) blues. With a pulsing bass drum reminiscent of the Beatles’ “Two Of Us,” Hitchcock imagines leaving the insanity of modern society behind on the amazing “We’re Gonna Live In The Trees.” Even the brief and funny spoken-word “Welcome To Earth,” a recorded message for visitors to our planet, holds up to repeated listening: “…Press 1 for Famine, 2 for Pestilence, 3 for Condoleeza, and 4 for Death. Please note, Pestilence closes at 6…” Ironically, the album’s best song is the only one Hitchcock didn’t write, Bob Dylan’s “Tryin' To Get To Heaven Before They Close The Door.” Evidently, Hitchcock, Welch, and Rawlings are all huge Dylan fans and recorded a number of his tunes during the sessions for Spooked.
I would love to hear these three tackle some other Dylan classics. But either way, I hope that Hitchcock decides to record with Welch and Rawlings again. Spooked is a phenomenal record, one that proves yet again what an enormous talent Robyn Hitchcock is and what a shame it is that more people haven’t noticed.
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The Sadies - Favourite Colours Yep Roc
Reviewed by Adam M. Anklewicz
Opening with “North Humberland West,” The Sadies’ latest album gets off on a kick. A tribute to the lesser-known Byrds instrumental “Nashville West,” the song hints at the direction of the album. Heavily influenced by the post-David Crosby Byrds, Toronto’s indie-darlings know how to create country-rock like the masters.
Comprised of brothers Dallas and Travis Good (guitars) along with Sean Dean (bass) and Mike Belitsky (drums), The Sadies frequently back up Neko Case. They have also just released an album with Rick White (Eric’s Trip & Elevator) and Greg Keelor (Blue Rodeo) as The Unintended.
“Only You And Your Eyes” is a surf song, but not Beach Boys surf. It is a more relaxed and mellow tune which perhaps makes it obvious that these Toronto boys are not surfers. Providing a good interlude near the end of the album before it gets ready to wrap up, “Only You And Your Eyes” helps the album flow as one.
Sounding almost as a hymn, “1000 Cities Falling (Part 1)” sends chills down your spine. It is also the highlight of the album and proof that The Sadies deserve more attention. The pedal steel and picked acoustic guitar are reminiscent of early Gordon Lightfoot, with vocals providing the same timbre of a Lightfoot without hope in his voice. A voice that catches the listener, singing lyrics such as, “On a dark and frozen land/Lie 1000 cities damned/That circle round and round the dying sun” only creates more intrigue.
Another highlight is “A Good Flying Day,” a track reminiscent of early Elevator, with a simple, soft beat and a happy spirit that a lot of today’s pop is lacking.
“Why Would Anybody Live Here?” has the same music as “Only You And Your Eyes.” The addition of the vocals and lyrics seem to take away from the song. Closing the album it effectively creates a sleepy feeling with the dragged-out vocals, not seeming to fit in with the album. It also features guest vocalist Robyn Hitchcock, who’s gravely voice does not fit in well with The Sadies.
Perhaps the biggest disappointment of the album is its short length (running just over half an hour). Its short length is further accelerated by the quick pace of the music. With only one track reaching three minutes, the album moves quickly and leaves you wanting more; Perhaps at least an enticement to buy more of their records.
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That 1 Guy - Songs in the Key of Beotch Righteous Babe
Reviewed by Shel Desormeaux
So yeah, I missed the last Being There staff meeting. But Ankle, he’s cool, and not only do I work with him on the mag - we spend our days in the same place, too. He brought me some press releases and a small stack of CDs.
“Listen to ‘That 1 Guy’ first,” Ankle chortled, beaming at me. Ankle, he’s a bit of a whore for new tunage. “The first song? You gotta listen to it loud.”
I should have known he’d crack ‘em open first. But that’s fine with me. It took me a while, but I eventually ripped the tunes onto my iMac at work at gave it a go. I couldn’t listen to it as loud as I would have liked, but my workplace is pretty permissive; I can play stuff at a dull roar.
Well, I played it. And then I got home and played it loud. And I’ve come to the conclusion that this one guy is pretty fucked up. I don’t really know what “Weasel Potpie” is about, nor have I developed any theory about what it means when “It’s Raining Meat.”
Having said that, some of this is funny shit. The harmlessly entitled “Birds” is indeed harmless, but one waltz through the opening line, ‘Birds/Some people get their eyes poked out by birds,’ and I don’t know where the hell I am anymore. This album should be behind one mind bogglingly trippy cartoon; I see Spongebob and Stimpy in a pot and Jack Daniels-induced gay tryst. Which is totally wrong, yes, but played out to a tune like ‘Steaming Hunks,’ what could possibly be right?
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Reviewed by Adam D. Miller
For fans of Tom Waits, the prospect of a new album has always been exciting. Waits is much more than one of the most consistent songwriters of the past thirty years. He is a unique force in music. With a voice like no other (a cross between an 85 year old bluesman and Cookie Monster), he is someone that may always be counted on when we are in the mood for something that is as weird as it is beautiful. As wife and collaborator Kathleen Brennan has regarded him, Waits is a composer of “grand weepers and grim reapers,” and has always delivered in those categories.
Sometimes the wait has been longer than others. There was a six year gap between 1993’s The Black Rider and Waits’ 1999 “comeback” Mule Variations, the album that caught my attention and converted me into an enthused Tom Waits fan (I still remember the unique feeling I had when hearing “Big In Japan” and “Cold Water” at the listening booth in HMV). A successful tour followed and soon Waits once again shied away from the spotlight. He then awarded the patience of his fans by delivering two albums on the same date in 2002, Alice and Blood Money. Both were marvelous albums based on musical theatre collaborations with Brennan, but neither had much in the way of the heavy electric music (or even electric guitar, for that matter) that newer fans had come to fall for on Bone Machine and Mule Variations. But for those who missed the more off-beat stylings of those albums, no worries ‘mon, Tom Waits is back with guitarist Marc Ribot - who played a pivotal role on Waits’ best album, Rain Dogs - delivering some loud and funky music.
Funky is the key here. This is hardly ‘same old, same old’ Waits. Genre-bending as always, Waits conquers many areas of music that are new to him. The always reliable blues (“Sins Of My Father”) is joined by airs of soul (“Shake It”), funk (“Metropolitan Glide”), and even Afro-Cuban rhythms (“Hoist That Rag”). The always-evident piano is absent on this album. Heck, there’s even some turntable scratching from Waits’ son Casey. The vocal stylings are reminiscent of Bone Machine, but the album as a whole is a much different affair. The album highlight, “Make It Rain”, also proves to be a highlight for Marc Ribot, who has proved to be the perfect lead guitar for Waits’ music on classic albums like Rain Dogs and Swordfishtrombones. And how can you have a Tom Waits album without a spooky spoken-word track (“Circus”). The man is just as entertaining while he’s speaking as he is singing.
For those who have waited patiently for a new Tom Waits album, Real Gone is likely to be more than satisfying. The delight doesn’t turn into fascination quite as often as it did on his other recent albums, and time will be the judge as to whether or not Real Gone is one that we will come back to time and again. But the fact remains that it is Waits as we have always loved him: weird, wild, and wonderful.
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