Music
Section By Jeb D.
THE UNION
Elton John and Leon Russell
Thirty years ago, this album would have been a classic “battle of the bands”: of all the musical influences that went into constructing the Elton John hit-making machine, none was more prominent than the pounding piano and gospel-based vocal arrangements of Leon Russell. Today, though, it’s a meeting of elder statesmen, which, while not without its pleasures, lacks the sparks that might have flown back when each had something to prove. Both singers are still in strong voice, though Elton’s has thickened and deepened to the point where there’s less contrast between Russell and himself than there once would have been, and the T-Bone Burnett (who else?) production sets them off beautifully. Guests include Brian Wilson, Booker T, and Neil Young (whose voice is the ideal instrument for more of Bernie Taupin’s Civil War ruminations on “Gone To Shiloh”). The tone is often stately, but too often it’s equally static; though there is plenty of heart and soul in the writing and singing, the album never catches fire in the revival-meeting way of a “Burn Down The Mission,” “Roll Away The Stone” or “Take Me To The Pilot.” Given their deep love of gospel music, both singers might cock an ear to what Mavis Staples is up to these days: being a Living Legend doesn’t mean you can’t kick a little musical ass while you’re at it. Note that you can also buy a “Special Edition” with a making-of doc by Cameron Crowe.
UNDERCARD
The Extra Lens
You could spend some time parsing out the difference between this John Darnielle and Franklin Bruno collaboration and a regular Mountain Goats album; I suppose that technically it’s a sequel to Darnielle and Bruno’s 2002 “The Extra Glenns” album. Better, instead, to focus energy on the music, which is brimming with the humanity and underdog empathy that are Darnielle’s specialty. The album title embodies that worldview: always aiming for the top spot, always falling just short. “Cruiserweights” spells it out explicitly, while “Only Existing Footage” shifts focus away from sports, to an equally brave attempt to fend off the world’s cold indifference. “How I Left the Ministry”‘ is a story of infidelity and remorse that unreels slowly, filmically, while “Some Other Way” show human resilience in the face of even the darkest impulses. Undercard does separate itself from a typical Mountain Goats record with a more varied instrumental texture, including the saloon piano, and accordion, deployed as canny stage setting for “In Germany Before The War.” Rich and rewarding.
THE ORIGINAL MONO RECORDINGS
Bob Dylan
Well, he’s not dead, and doesn’t hit 70 till next May, but otherwise Bob Dylan’s matching last week’s John Lennon barrage with a plateful of new releases, including this box set of his first eight studio albums, in remastered mono sound. Compared with the sometimes gimmicky stereo mixes that his contemporaries like the Beatles and Stones received, most of the stereo versions of Dylan’s 60’s output sound pretty natural, and the stereo can add texture when he begins to branch out to full-band recording. But there’s a nice clarity to the mono versions, particularly on the first few, so if you don’t yet have the complete early Dylan discography, here’s a nice (not exactly cheap: $130 list, $104 right now from Amazon) way to acquire it. Personally, I’d say your money’s better spent on this week’s Volume 9 of his Bootleg Series, with the first commercial release of all his early demos for the Witmark music publishing company, ranging from classics-to-be to material that he never commercially recorded. Though even the previously “unreleased” songs are often familiar (like “Hard Times in New York Town” or “The Death of Emmett Till”), hearing it all of a piece in this fashion really is a pretty stunning tribute to the sheer epic size of his talent: it’s almost a complete rewriting of the possibilities of popular music over the course of a couple of hours, delivered with an off-the-cuff ease, and an unusually unguarded openness. Also available is a single-disk collection of the Best of the Mono Recordings, featuring the usual suspects (“Blowin’ In The Wind,” “Like A Rolling Stone,” etc.). By the way, with pre-orders of either the complete Mono Recordings box or the Witmark Demos set, Amazon is including as an exclusive bonus a previously-unreleased concert recording from 1963, so if you’re interested in any of these, you might want to jump on it as soon as this column goes up.
THE INCREDIBLE MACHINE
Sugarland
I normally wouldn’t feature these folks, but this album title is just begging for it: The Incredible Machine? Why not just call it The Soulless Corporate Focus Group CD? It’s the perfect illustration of the musically creative vacuum that is today’s mainstream “country” music scene: you can load up (as this album does) on warmed-over arena-rock bombast and clichés, but they’ll lap it up as long as you’ve got the right accent, attitude, and outfit. It’s all pointless, generic “anthems” designed to fit anyone’s personal wish to see themselves as put upon; Sugarland wants you to sing out with them that you “won’t give up the fight,” and to “stand up and use your voice,” as though there were no distinction whatever between “he/she-done-me-wrong” clichés and the genuine misery infesting much of American life today, which once would have been the subject of mainstream country artists (Johnny Cash, say, or Merle Haggard), but today is relegated to fringe performers like Ryan Bingham and Justin Townes Earle. The bland uselessness of this album makes Lady Antebellum sound like The Carter Family.
Other noteworthy 10/19 Releases
Kind of a lean week, and I was sick in bed for most of it, so I know there’s a few new ones I didn’t get around to.
Liz Phair, Funstyle. I’ve listened to Funstyle a few more times since the download was reviewed here a few months back, and while Phair doubtless intends it to be biting and incisive, to me it still feels petulant, small, and musically lifeless. On the plus side, the CD release comes with a bonus disk of the first mainstream release of her original privately-issued Girlysound Tapes, which are worth hearing even if they do place the new album in a less than flattering context. On the minus side, the artist is no longer getting 100% of what you pay for this, which makes it somewhat less a bargain than the download was.
Bryan Ferry, Olympia. On the plus side: this album reunites Ferry with Brian Eno, as well as Mackay and Manzanera, for the first time in over thirty years (the rest of the kitchen sink cast includes Nile Rodgers, David Gilmour, Groove Armada, Scissor Sisters, Marcus Miller, Flea, and Jonny Greenwood). On the minus side: the Kate Moss album cover, and video for the first single, “You Can Dance,” suggest that it’s just more of the high-class makeout music that has been Ferry’s specialty since Avalon. Goes down smooth, but I’m hoping for a bit of “Re-Make/Re-Model” / “Mother Of Pearl” bite. We’ll see.
Kings of Leon, Come Around Sundown. America’s answer to Big Country returns with more of that keening guitar, martial drums, long looping basslines, and tight harmonies reminding us to keep going no matter how tough it gets. Ain’t no pigeon crap gonna slow down these fellas.
Darkstar, North. Not quite the grooves galore that 2009’s “Aidy’s Girl Is a Computer” might have led you to expect: instead, sober reflections on a darkening England in a time of personal tragedy (several bandmembers lost close friends or relatives over the past year), sung by new vocalist James Buttery (whose voice is anything but) through a series of filters that suggest the alien invaders in a 1950’s sci-fi film. The cover of the Human League’s “Gold” is taken at a stark half-speed, and there’s as much ache in the music as the lyrics in
“Under One Roof” and “2 Chords.”
Avey Tare, Down There. I suppose that “Tare” rhymed better with “There” than “Portner” would have, but yes, this is another Animal Collective spinoff (or is Animal Collective itself the spinoff? Hmmmm….). The expected merry mix of sounds and time signatures: my particular favorite, though, is the relatively forthright “Oliver Twist”.
Buddy Guy, Living Proof. You know all those white-boy blues albums you’ve been passing up all year? Here’s what you’ve been saving your money for.