Music
Section By Jeb D.
THE AGE OF ADZ
Sufjan Stevens
The voice is still there: the template for contemporary indie, with the calculatedly offhand “aw-shucks-no-one-wants-to-hear-me-sing” approximation of pitch and melody, and the sensitive crack in the arch falsetto. This time, though, it’s sharing space with a busload of studio effects, vocal filters, hip-hop beats, all fighting their way through a dense patina of reverb, and moving at a dizzying pace, like a magician pulling an endless succession of tricks from his hat. Even in the cases where Stevens brings in actual instruments (like a string section), he drops them in and out of the music with the abruptness of a purloined sample; clearly, he’s not planning to allow the listener to simply sit back and bask. And the songwriting goes hand in hand with the musical fragmentation: taking his cue from schizophrenic artist Royal Robertson (the source of the album’s title), Stevens seems to be presenting the musical version of the confused and contradictory musings and interviews he’s given over the past couple of years, questioning the direction of his career, of music-making, and life in general. Like Robertson, Stevens will work in any medium to hand, and not always with clarity as his first purpose. The songs pinball madly, punctuated by cries of “I’m not fucking around!” and “I must do the right thing! Get right with the Lord!” But at bottom, he’s still got that amazing melodic gift: I’ll grant you that “Impossible Soul” probably didn’t need to run all of 25 minutes, but you’d be hard pressed to find more than five minutes that you could cut without losing something memorable.
WRITE ABOUT LOVE
Belle and Sebastian
The openers, “I Didn’t See It Coming” and “Come on Sister,” are such sheer pop perfection that you can forgive the occasional clunky rhyme (“money/honey,” “continental/rental,” and later on, “scars/flowers,” which only a Scotsman would even attempt). God puts in an appearance, as do Norah Jones and Carey Mulligan, all treated with equal reverence. And, for what it’s worth, Mulligan’s vocals on the title cut feel far more natural and direct than Jones’ fussiness on “Little Lou, Ugly Jack, Prophet John.” “The Ghost of Rockschool” is a song of devotion from a guy who still sings in his neighborhood church choir, and the aching reminiscence of “Read The Blessed Pages” teeters right on the edge of saccharine without ever quite tipping over into it. The genre-hopping arrangements from The Life Pursuit seem better focused this time around, with Murdoch integrating his musical influences rather than imitating them. Are there moments of passive-aggressive preciousness that make you want to reach into the speaker and slap him around? Well, yeah; it is a Belle and Sebastian record, after all. But most of the time, he pulls up just short of that, and most of the more problematic stuff is restricted to songs like “Calculating Bimbo;” and, let’s fact it, no one listening to a song with that title should have very high expectations for it. Tiny moments of teeth-grinding coyness apart, it’s an album of pure aural pleasure you can practically bathe in.
REUNITED
The Jazz Passengers
New York bohos return with their first new studio album in over a decade, and they pick up right where Individually Twisted left off: muscular modern jazz that applies post-bop irony to pop song structure, with tight ensemble and firm, hard bottom. Roy Nathanson’s writing is in just as sharp form as his soprano squealing, and “Wind Walked By,” sung by Elvis Costello, is as bleak a picture of This Modern Life as any this year (our narrator is “shit outta luck, the American way“). The band shakes their collective booty to “Button Up” and “National Anthem,” and their deconstructions of “Spanish Harlem” and Peaches and Herb’s title song are irresistibly sharp and silly. Marc Ribot again demonstrates that his guitar is twice as effective in a group than it was on his recent, stodgy, solo album; he’s in strong company, with Curtis Fowlkes’ trombone and Sam Bardfeld’s violin providing shadings of color that wouldn’t even occur to most of today’s jazz players. Elsewhere, Debbie Harry is, well, “reunited” with her old buddies on a pair of live tracks from 1995 (though she is still performing onstage with them this year), and she’s every bit the smoky chanteuse you remember; a particular delight is her vocal on the Passengers’ slinky rearrangement of “One Way Or Another.” Impure Bop For Now People.
THE SOCIAL NETWORK
Soundtrack by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross
If you’ve seen The Social Network, you know how well this music works in the film’s context, and how vital it was: much of the strength of Sorkin and Fincher’s vision was their determination to present relatively mundane activities (using a computer, legal depositions, etc,) in more straightforward, realistic terms than is customary in film. To that end, much of the movie’s effectiveness derives from mood, texture, and tone, and the musical score becomes a key player in a number of scenes. But when pop stars make film scores, there’s the unfortunate expectation that the result will stand on its own as a listening experience, something for which they’re rarely intended and almost never successful. In the case of The Social Network, though, Reznor and Ross have an advantage, having previously honed their ambient chops on 2007”s Ghosts. As a listening experience, The Social Network is similar (no Adrian Belew this time, though), with tracks like “Painted Sun In Asbstract” and “Pieces Form the Whole” seeming to reveal themselves slowly, with an almost Reich-an deliberation, which is particularly impressive given their relatively short running times. Elsewhere, I enjoyed the motifs that link “Hand Covers Bruise (Reprise),” “Almost Home,” and “It Catches Up With You” and on into “Intriguing Possibilities.” The straightforward adaptation of “In The Hall Of The Mountain King” is a bit jarring out of context, but would be great for spooking little Trick or Treaters later this month. And the download version’s only five bucks.
Other Notable 10/12 Releases
Antony and the Johnsons, Swanlight. I didn’t get the version with the 136-page hardcover book, so I don’t know if it offers any insight into this album’s shift in direction: it’s still Hegarty’s aching, astonishing voice over layers of dark melodies and washes of lush instrumentation, but somehow in a more affirmative, sometimes even positive tone: “Everything Is New,” “Thank You for Your Love,” and the practically buoyant “Fletta,” with guest vocals from Bjork.
Secret Sisters, Secret Sisters. At first, you wonder just why these gals sound so distinctive in the midst of what has already been a very strong year in neo-country. The secret isn’t the Patsy Cline dresses and hairstyles, or even the fact that T-Bone Burnett started a new label just for them. No, the trick is that the gorgeous sisterly harmonies of Laura and Lydia Rogers owe more to The Andrews Sisters than The Carter Family, and that shift in context brings a bracing edge to both originals like “Tennessee Me” and classics of kitsch like “Somethin’ Stupid.”
Darius Rucker, Charleston, SC 1966. The blend of sincerity and smarm that made him an ineffective rocker has worked out perfectly in modern pop-country. Doesn’t make him any less dismissable, but bringing a bit of color to the palette of contemporary country music is still a nearly political act, so I’m willing to cut him some slack. That doesn’t extend to listening to this album more than once, though.
Lil Wayne, I Am Not A Human Being. This new collection from everyone’s favorite jailbird leads off with a track called “Gonorrhea.” I wonder if this is one of the songs that was described as being “for the ladies.”
David Gilmour & The Orb, Metallic Spheres. Floyd guitarist meets the kings of chillout. Evidently available in both a regular stereo version and one using the latest black-box “surround sound” technology called “3D60.”
California Guitar Trio, Andromeda. Their first album of all-original, jazzy-proggy material continues their march forward from the days when they were covering things like “Pipeline” and “Bohemian Rhapsody.” It’s not exactly an insult to say that their compositional skills aren’t in the same ballpark with their instrumental chops, given how jaw-dropping their playing can be. It is a fact, though.
Old 97’s, Grand Theatre Volume One. It’s a new alt-country landscape these days, but everything about this album steps to the fore with a renewed vigor, with Johnny Cash or The Band definitely taking a back seat to The Replacements. And it’s not the best song on the album, but “Please Hold On While The Train Is Moving” is not only a great metaphor, but might be my favorite song title of the week.
Suzanne Vega, Close-Up 2: People & Places. Vega’s project of re-recording her back catalog is now up to “Luka.” So I imagine most people can stop right here.
DIE ANTWOORD, $O$. Says here that “Whether you like it or not DIE ANTWOORD are here to stay.” Honestly, I’m not bothered either way.
Railroad Earth, Railroad Earth. Tough to try and grab the roots-rock spotlight in the same week that the Old 97’s release their newest. Singer-songwriter Todd Sheaffer is no Steve Earle (or even Justin), but this is honestly-crafted, well-played stuff. Worth a listen.
Michael Formanek, The Rub and Spare Change. Stellar jazz bassist recruits a new band for extended, sharply-played flights of tonal fantasy, a bit of post-bop changeup, and a 17-minute “Suite” that is kinda pushing its luck.
The Band Perry, The Band Perry. These three siblings make slighly confused country music: “Daddy rocked us to sleep with the Rolling Stones; Mama woke us up with Loretta Lynn,” claims vocalist Kimberly Perry. OK, but when I was a kid, you’d have had to play Loretta Lynn damn loud to get me out of bed. Anyway, a nice alternative to Lady Antebellum: less corn, more fiber.
Badly Drawn Boy, It’s What I’m Thinking: Photographing Snowflakes. Are you as surprised as I was to realize that this is Gough’s seventh studio release? If, like most people, you haven’t really been paying attention since Have You Fed the Fish? and About A Boy, you will either be pleased or chagrined to hear that nothing much has changed. And since this is the first of a three-album cycle, you can probably relax again for the next few years.
Dar Williams, Many Great Companions. An attractive twofer package: one disk of Williams’ “hits,” and a second disk with a set of newly recorded versions of some of her favorite songs (with only a couple of duplications), abetted by guest stars like Mary Chapin Carpenter, and members of Nickel Creek and The Nighthawks.
HUMS FOR THE HOLIDAYS
The music companies have already begun their Christmas season onslaught, so as a bit of a bonus over the next few weeks, we’ll have a quick rundown of some of the week’s new seasonal/Christmas releases and noteworthy reissues.
James Brown, The Complete James Brown Christmas. Self-recommending: all three of Brown’s Christmas LP releases on two CD’s, supplemented with seven bonus tracks. Not only are “Let’s Make Christmas Mean Something This Year” and “Santa Claus Go Straight To The Ghetto” as great a pair of “protest” song as any that black America produced in the 60’s, but just for the hell of it, Brown also stuck “Say It Loud – I’m Black And I’m Proud” on a Christmas album.
Dan Hicks and His Hot Licks, Crazy For Christmas. Hicks’ “Somebody Stole My Santa Claus Suit” (included here) has been a favorite on Christmas mixtapes/CD’s I’ve made over the years. Here’s a whole new album’s worth of his Western swing and sly, whacked-out humor applied to the season, including such epics as “Santa Gotta Choo Choo,” “I’ve Got Christmas By The Tail,” and an absolutely killer “Carol of the Bells” in jazzy 4-part harmony.
Brian Orchestra Setzer Orchestra, Christmas Comes Alive!. It’s hard to know what we have more of right now: Setzer live albums or Setzer Christmas albums. Here’s one that tips both categories right over into irrelevance!
Stile Antico, Puer Natus Est-Tudor Music for Advent & Christmas. There’s stacks of great recordings of ancient liturgical choral music for the season from such groups as The Tallis Singers and The Taverner Consort, but if you’ve ever felt like just dipping a toe into the pure sonic mysteries of a more devotional age, this’ll do just fine.
Indigo Girls, Holly Happy Days. Their passion and decency in the face of the world’s evil has always been the main (only?) thing keeping them from being just a set of nice harmonies, which rather well suits them to songs that demand a level of trust and belief that few of their peers can match. You’ll never remember the original songs five minutes later, but you won’t soon forget their “Angels We Have Heard On High,” either.
Wilson Phillips, Christmas in Harmony. Three-part harmony instead of two, so it’s 50% better than the Indigo Girls, right? Right?
Olivia Newton-John, Christmas Collection. On the odd chance that anyone cares, this is mostly repackaged material, including some previously-unreleased songs that Liv sang on a Kenny Loggins TV special. Think about that: music so special that for ten years she reserved it just for Kenny Loggins.