Scroll down for the latest from The Waxwings, Pet Shop Boys and Kristian Hoffmann. Click here for the latest from Badly Drawn Boy, Happy Losers, Cornershop and Eric Lichter

Dora Flood
Welcome

(Dora Flood)

doraflood.com

A fabulous piece of modern psychedelic rock, from a band that has a wide musical frame of reference. The title cut opens the album with a swirling vibe that calls to mind Pink Floyd, but the melody of the song, aided by frontman Michael Padilla's yearning vocals, is more in the style of some of Suede's glam epics. Padilla and fellow guitarist David Alexander pour on the chords and effects, creating an aural cloud to float on. With this great track, the game is afoot.

The band does a great job of blending old time psych with its more modern variety. So the sound on this disc has retro elements, but Dora Flood stops short of slavish recreation. This puts the band on par with bands like Photon Band, RockFour and Lilys. They have tapped into the timelessness of ‘60s classicism. But they're not bound by it, as illustrated by the left-field mid-tempo disco-funk of "Forget to Be Numb". This isn't any attempt at Funkadelic, but it uses that cool phased guitar sound that everyone from the Isley Brothers to Ozark Mountain Daredevils succeeded with in the ‘70s. If Chris Stamey was a staff writer for T-Neck Records in 1975, this song would be the end result.

A few tunes have particularly strong pop hooks. The ambling "Eraser" falls somewhere between debut album Big Star and Muswell Hillbillies-era Kinks in the verses, counterpointing with a drawling chorus, and a lovely instrumental break, powered by a great guitar solo, which leads to the final movement, where keyboardist Steve Cavoretto is all over the place – on piano, synthesizer and trumpet. This is one of those songs that ends up somewhere entirely different than where it starts, and effortlessly takes you there. "Give Us This Day" dispenses with prefatory music, starting with the hook and then melting into the lovely verses – this is warm and captivating.

The punchier numbers are swell, but Dora Flood's raison d'etre is to envelope you in atmospheric guitars playing languid tunes, while Padilla guides you through their world. "Slow Return (To Sleep)", "Safety" and "Transition" are songs on the second half of the disc that have that quasi-spiritual effect that the best dream pop achieves – at one level, the songs are intimate, but the music expands to the edges of the universe. It's the aural equivalent of standing alone at the edge of the Grand Canyon on a clear, starry night, feeling tiny yet comforted by the enormity of it all.

____________________________________________________

The Waxwings
Shadows Of The Waxwings

(Bobsled)

bobsledrecords.com

Nowadays, production is rarely a major issue on a record. Technology seems to have gotten to a point where it's rare that a recording is not at least an adequate representation of a band. This is not always a good thing, as bands don't often make production choices, and production is where a band can give itself a distinctive stamp.

The Waxwings seem to understand this. Their splendid 2000 debut disc, Low To The Ground, tapped into a John Leckie vibe, as Bryan Hanna and label head Bob Salerno got a large sound with ringing guitars and brilliant harmonies – a recording that simply cascaded with beauty and energy. Having seen Waxwings a handful of times live, I can state that the production on the debut was crucial – live, they are a decent, but uninspiring, band who rock but never soar. For the sophomore effort, Hanna came back on board. Production is a key to this record too. There is a lot of extreme stereo separation, in combination with putting instruments (usually a guitar and the drums) way in the front of the mix. In theory, this could have paid off handsomely, like it did for so many fine bands in the ‘60s. In practice, the production is muddled and distracting. The first few listens were a chore, as I tried to determine if the production was smoke and mirrors, and their were no songs underneath, or was the production hiding some gems? The answer is...well, some of both.

The band is clearly trying to rock some more, though many of the basic elements of the first album are still in place – languid melodies, some Byrdisms, and a general jangle-rock psych tone. The bottom line is that the band has simply not come up with too many top drawer songs. So this disc suffers a great deal in comparison to the debut, which is frustrating, because enough brilliance shines through to remind you how special these guys can be.

A few songs work quite well. "Clouded Over" shows off the ‘wings at maximum anthem power, and, at least on this track, the bombastic production is a good match for soaring guitars and reaching voices. This sounds like a teenage Grip Weeds. Speaking of sounds like, "Almost All Day" sounds like a meld of Beatles/Big Star pop balladry with the spacey essence of recent Flaming Lips. The drums crackle with a vague specter of hip-hop and some spooky keyboards add to the ambiance, while Dominic Romano pulls off the best lead vocal ever waxed by the ‘wings. The percussion happy "Fractured" is a model example of what the band does best – kinda country-rock, kinda psych, with a gigantic hook, with the backing vocals introducing the melody and the lead vocal coming in on top, superbly.
But who thought it was a good idea to capture the delicate Byrdsy ballad "Brilliant Grey" with the drums way up front and the other instruments placed at odds with each other? It's an alright tune that does not benefit from the monkeying around. Then songs like "Wired that Way" and "Crystallized" have nice parts that do not really gel into songs. The procession of effects seems to be an attempt to inject a dose of energy, particularly with the latter track. "Look Down Darkly" is ineffective for different reasons – a cousin to the last album's "Anxiously Awaiting", the song isn't quite as compelling and then devolves into a pleasant instrumental interlude that goes nowhere.

The album closer sums up my frustration. "What's Needed Now" should be a home run. Sumptuous harmony vocals and a languid shoegazer-meets-The-Grateful-Dead melody. But the guitars are in a mid-range netherworld, where, instead of lifting the song, they just make it gloppy – except for the tambourine on the hi-hat. Gosh, that's what deserves emphasis. What should be an epiphany is ineffective, sadly.

If nothing else, the band has created an album that manages to sound better on a computer than on a full stereo system, as the extreme effects are forgivably lost on the smaller speakers. Two words on what could improve this album: Brad Jones.

_____________________________________________________

Pet Shop Boys
Release

(Sanctuary)

petshopboys.co.uk

You'll probably never hear anyone mention Pet Shop Boys in the same breath as contemporaries like R.E.M., U2 or Nirvana, because Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe are guilty of being unabashedly pop. Even worse, they've aggravated the offense by being incredibly successful, with numerous hit records. The fatal blow is that Pet Shop Boys made records that you could dance to, as opposed to music made with guitar, bass and drums. This unstated bias against a pure pop act is ludicrous – particularly in the case of Pet Shop Boys who: 1) pen classic pop melodies, 2) have done as much to rehabilitate disco as a viable musical style as anyone, and, 3) are sharper lyricists than about 98 percent of the critical faves of the past 20 years.

In fact, the band hit an artistic apex with their 1993 release Very, the first PSB album where the duo confronted issues hitting the gay community, such as the AIDS crisis. Their ability to focus on such a serious topic with emotional depth, while not abandoning their indelible hooks, further confirmed their greatness. However, the album was a relative commercial stiff, and the band retrenched with the frothy and insincere Bilingual. This album didn't fare much better, so the band went back to the Very approach on the vastly improved Nightlife. This album goes one better, almost matching the classic status of Very and 1987's Actually.

The disc features very little dance music, instead focusing on an array of slow and mid-tempo ballads with a heavy ‘70s influence. There are some out and out pop gems on here. The best is "I Get Along", a break up anthem where Tennant tells an ex that he's not just coping without him, he's copacetic. The chorus is gigantic and begs for the listener to sing along. Then there's "E-Mail" – this isn't gimmicky, just a modern take on a lover's need for reassurance, with the wise line "And some things can be written down/that we're too shy to say." Amen to that, Mr. Tennant. Carrying on with this ‘I miss my man' theme is the lead track "Home and Dry", built on an insinuating synth pattern, augmented by tasteful guitar fills by Johnny Marr (who plays on almost every track), and displays the underrated vocal capabilities of Neil Tennant – he still sounds like an extremely dry Al ("Year of the Cat") Stewart, but he can tweak his voice to reveal a lot of emotion.

And these songs are filled with emotion. One thing that makes Pet Shop Boys compelling is the thin layer between their cynicism and their unabashed romanticism. This album really lets the other side shine through. Take the sadness that permeates "Birthday Boy", exacerbated by a brilliant Marr guitar solo (think Prince's "Purple Rain" or The Commodores' "Easy"). Or "Love is a Catastrophe", which is a silky smooth lament built on plaintive lyrics. Even when the track has the characteristic PSB dance vibe, it sports a melancholy keyboard line ("The Samurai in Autumn").

The most talked about track is the story song "The Night I Fell in Love". A catchy, but not earth shattering, tune, the lyrics are devastatingly hilarious. Tennant plays the role of a male college student who gets backstage at an Eminem concert – and ends up spending the night with him. Tennant is at his most deadpan, making lines like "over breakfast made jokes/about Dre and his homies and folks" all the funnier. What is really great is that: 1) considering how many folks Eminen puts down in his songs, he deserves this taste of his own medicine, and, 2) while it is all good and fine for Mr. Marshall Mathers to sing with Elton John at the Grammies, it's kind of like putting a band aid on gaping wound. If Mathers' homophobic stance is just a joke, then this shouldn't bother him. Tennant and Chris Lowe have thrown down a gauntlet, in the most entertaining fashion.
Release proves that Pet Shop Boys are timeless. This may one day rank up there with their best LPs.

_____________________________________________________

Kristian Hoffman
&

(Eggbert)

eggbert.com

Hoffman is a talented baroque pop veteran, who has not released nearly enough music. He played in The Mumps, where his writing contributed to that band's over-the-top sensibility (though the late Lance Loud had enough over-the-topness for four or five bands). He fronted The Swingin' Madisons, a band I'm still dying to hear. He has gone on to play with other folks, most recently collaborating with Goth chanteuse Abby Travis, and kicking out two solo albums in the ‘90s. Hoffman specializes in delicate (but deceptively strong) melodies with dense witty observational lyrics. Sometimes he sounds like he should be headlining the Holiday Inn lounge in Braniacville.

The title of this disc alludes to its nature. Hoffman duets with an array of talented folks who share his left-of-center take on music. Check these names out: Van Dyke Parks, Paul (Pee Wee Herman) Reubens, Stew of The Negro Problem, Rufus Wainwright, El Vez, Lydia Lunch, Maria McKee, Steve (Redd Kross) McDonald, Ann Magnuson, Michael (Three O'Clock, The Jupiter Affect) Quericio, Darian (Wondermints) Sahanaja, Abby Travis, Anna (that dog) Waronker, Paul (The Fast) Zone and Russell Mael of Sparks. Speaking of Sparks, which I do frequently, original Sparks guitarist Earle Mankey produces.
This disc is both a special event and an incredible career summation – while nothing rocks as much as Hoffman's Mumps days, he has tailored material that is splendidly suited for his guests. The stylistic diversity works so well because it is grounded in Hoffman's specific compositional and lyrical sensibilities. Hoffman is at peak power throughout, and his teammates are all up to the task.

The most striking track is "Scarecrow", a collaboration with Wainwright (who Hoffman toured behind). It isn't that far off from Wainwright's own material, but it cuts deeper – chords are sadder and the lyrics go a bit further. This song is a brilliant metaphorical take on the homophobic murder of Matthew Sheppard, filled with layers upon layers of meaning, as it grapples with the aspects of the crime at different levels, and the nature of man in general: "A rifle butt against the head/because we'd heard it said/that only God can make a man/it's true/but only man can make a scarecrow out of you/and only man can make a God that will approve." I can't convey how Hoffman and Wainwright make this verbose poetry fit the poignant music seamlessly, but they do. In fact, Hoffman is right up there with artists like Joe Strummer, Paul Weller and Ron Mael in his ability to make articulate but seemingly unwieldy lyrics work in a pop-rock structure.

Two other songs grab the heart. "Tender Even Then" is an acoustic track, with Maria McKee trying to salve Hoffman's wounding tongue – he can't help but destroy his romance, while assuring his lover that he can be tender. The melody has a slight Latin tint. Anna Waronker's sensuous vocal contrasts the quavering Hoffman on the psychorchestral "Get it Right This Time". She's the sunshine breaking through his mental clouds.
Not everything is so heavy. The collaboration with Russell Mael, "Devil May Care", is a fine bouncy pop number; Hoffman's "Palace of Corn" has the right retro-pop feel for Wondermint Darian Sahanaja; and "Series of You's" (with Paul Zone) is kinda dancey. Fans of Hoffman's more baroque creations will have their due. Hoffman and Ann Magnuson team up on the neo-musical "Sex in Heaven", with an ultra memorable chorus for the best song ever about castrati. Abby Travis gets to show off a more playful side on "God, if any, Only Knows". And "Madison Avenue" is shaken-not-stirred spy lounge rock, with El Vez showing that his cool voice is no novelty.

This is merely a summation, as every track is worthy of deeper analysis. Over the past month, I have fallen in love with this record. This is timeless pop from an artist who manages to share the spotlight even when he most deserves to hog it by himself. A definite contender for album of the year.

__________________________________________________

To reach any other page contained in this month's update on Fufkin.com, read the home page for the appropriate link and click on it. You can also search the site from any page using the search box located at the top of each page. Merely type in the word, phrase, name of the band, recording, name of the Fufkin writer that you are looking for or Whatever in the search box, and then click on "Search". If you would like to e-mail us, go to the About Us page for a list of e-mail addresses.

Go back to the home page by clicking here

____________________________________________________