Music
Section by Jeb D.
DREAM ATTIC
Richard Thompson
Of all the musicians who emerged in the 60’s, there’s barely a handful who remain interesting, much less relevant. But Thompson, who founded Fairport Convention at the age of 17, played onstage with Hendrix and Page, and recorded essential albums both on his own and with ex-wife Linda, is arguably the only one of his era, save possibly Dylan himself, who remains at the top of his game. At a time when even Van Morrison is settling for the low-hanging fruit of jazz and R&B standards, Thompson continues crafting brilliant, stunning songs on such topics as love and loss, working men and gangsters, Burning Man and mass murderer Sidney Wells, and the death of everything from the world economy to old friends. And make no mistake: while the Fairport heritage often has him mislabeled as a “folkie,” there’s nothing twee or simpering about Thompson’s hard-edged rock or his powerful ballad writing; if anything, he’s a little too comfortable with world-weary cynicism and arching a lyrical eyebrow at human folly (the Wall Street tycoon narrating “Money Shuffle” is none too subtle: “If you’ll just bend over a little / I think you’ll feel my financial muscle / Spread it wide, wide as you can / To get the full benefit of my plan“). His decision to record this album of all-new material in live performance encourages him to loosen up and stretch out on guitar more than he typically does in the studio; there aren’t any epic eight-minute “Calvary Cross” workouts here, but virtually every song on Dream Attic is bedecked with jaw-dropping runs, and solos that break down and reassemble song structures with breathtaking ease. His keen ear for a world of musical influences shows up in things like the mad atonal soprano sax solo on “Money Shuffle,” and the plaintive Celtic fiddle that caresses the melody of “Among the Gorse, Among The Grey.” With catchy, memorable songs, a great band (including multi-instrumentalist Pete Zorn and amazing drummer Michael Jerome), and blazing Stratocaster in hand, Thompson live is an unmissable experience.
I’M HAVING FUN NOW
Jenny And Johnny
Take Rilo Kiley, keep the smarts and ramp up the power pop by about 100%, and you’ve got some idea of what Jenny Lewis and Johnathan Rice have cooked up here. The chiming guitars and bracing harmonies remind me of the recent collaborations between Matthew Sweet and Susannah Hoffs, with the added benefit of fresh original material. I’m Having Fun Now reads like an album title that’s either too ironic or too on-the-nose, but the material falls prey to neither, subverting easy expectations and leavening the sunny pop with arch observations and touches of acid: “God, it makes me queasy when you smile,” “I need to be committed today,” neither of which the sort of thing you expect from such summery sounds. And hearing Lewis, on “Big Wave,” break down the various economic failures of The Governator and his foes in the California legislature, in her soaring, soulful wail is, trust me, something that few lyricists or singers could even come close to pulling off– much less have you singing along with. There’s the added bonus of the album being layered enough to reward repeated listenings: it’ll take me at least three or four more to sort out the various snake references.
FAMILIAL
Philip Selway
The Radiohead drummer, inspired by his mother’s passing, and the realization that he’s the same age as the current Prime Minister, decided that time really was slipping away, and that it might be now or never for a solo album. Radiohead fans will recognize the instrumental textures, though they’re deployed with a bit more restraint here, and some of the most affecting singing comes against the slow instrumental build of tracks like “The Ties That Bind.” That’s just one of several songs here which focus heavily on the responsibilities inherent in maturity, and raising a family (“I want to shield you from my mistakes,” he sings to his child). I’d never heard Selway sing before (not sure if he ever has), but I like his closely-miked, slightly cracked falsetto, somewhat reminiscent of Sam Beam; and he has nice occasional vocal support here from Lisa Germano. He sometimes stretches his melodic gifts beyond their breaking point (“Broken Promises” and “All Eyes On You” are among the tracks that almost drift out of memory before he’s even finished singing), but at its strongest, the album’s a moody, thoughtful essay on the mixture of doubts and delights that comes with getting on in years.
JUNKY STAR
Ryan Bingham
The guy who helped The Dude finally snag Oscar returns with his first new album since anyone figured out who he is (hint: not your CMT-approved country hunk). Lead single “Depression” is as bleak and stark as its title, and there’s not a lot of good times on songs like “Lay My Head On The Rail” or “Self Righteous Wall,” but maybe this is not the time or place for that: this is an album that speaks more clearly to what’s happening to “real” life in America than anything I’ve heard in quite some time. There are familiar tropes here (the “Hard Worn Trail,” the “Wandering,”), but Bingham makes them feel like truisms, not cliches; the characters and places in the songs are as lived-in and and world-weary as Bob Dylan’s face. The spare instrumentation leaves room for Bingham’s voice, a ragged instrument that conveys more lifetimes of experience than his 29 years would suggest. He’s a subtler singer than Steve Earle, and a sharper lyricist than John Mellencamp, but if either of those guys appeal to you, Bingham’s worth getting to know. The Amazon download version, by the way, includes his Oscar-winning song “The Weary Kind” as a bonus track.
Other Noteworthy 8/31 Music Releases
Goo Goo Dolls, Something For The Rest Of Us. If these guys had known they were going to be around this long, do you suppose they’d have come up with a less goofy name? It certainly sounds like nothing’s changed over the years, so there’s that: big guitars, sweeping hooks, wistful vocals… and maybe just a bit too much adolescent confusion in the songwriting of a guy who’s got forty well in his rear view mirror at this point.
Heart, Red Velvet Car. Well, this is a good thing: Less “These Dreams” or “What About Love?”, more “Barracuda.” Maybe it’s the years of fighting that women of “a certain age” need to do to survive in the music business, but much of this album’s a feisty return to the band’s fem-Zep form of the 70’s, with the harmonies darkened just enough by the passage of time. “WTF” may be a painfully “now” choice for a song title, but the tune itself slams along with more rock and roll verve than either Plant or Page has managed in years.
Micky Dolenz, King For A Day. Mike Nesmith’s gifts as a songwriter never completely escaped the shadow of The Monkees, and the same can be said of Dolenz’ singing: he’s got a natural white-soul voice, and had things broken differently, he might have given Mitch Ryder a run for his money. But that’s not what’s called for when taking on the introspection and melodic precision of the Carole King songbook; the fact that Dolenz’ voice is past its peak doesn’t help, and the arrangements now and again make Rod Stewart’s “Songbooks” sound positively subtle.
Disturbed, Asylum. Considering that if you purchase the CD, you’ll get access to a cornucopia of special features, including instructional videos where the band teaches you how to play songs from the album, AND that the album is about to be released for Rock Band, the question of whether it’s any good is almost irrelevant.
Papa Roach, Time For Annihilation..On the Record, and On The Road. Five new tracks, nine live performances of old favorites (if that’s how one describes a song like “Hollywood Whore”).
Lyfe Jennings, I Still Believe. Well, that makes one of us.
The Weepies, Be My Thrill. The charming folk-pop harmonies and quirky songs (“They’re In Love, Where Am I?” “Not A Lullaby”) are still in place, and in a better world, “I Was Made For Sunny Days” would have been a great summer single. If you’ve only got room for one male-female duo producing pop perfection this week, then go with Jenny and Johnny. But this album’s a worthy companion piece.
Lee Perry & The Upsetters, Sound System Scratch. The man invented dub, which makes him among the most influential musicians of the late 20th century. This is a well-chosen sample, including a few rarities, and if you’re at all curious about where much of today’s turntable wizardry began, this is Lesson #1.