Scroll down for the latest from Anna Waronker, Pere Ubu, Do the Pop and The Chevelles. Click here for the latest from Tommy Keene, Kevin Tihista, The Possibilities and The Mark Kleiner Power Trio.

Doleful Lions
Out Like A Lamb

parasol.com

(Parasol)

The fourth Doleful Lions album finds auteur Jonathan Scott (abetted by David W. Jackson and Aynsley Pirtle) reaching a personal summit of sorts. As a songwriter, Scott writes some of the most distinctive melodies of anyone recording pop music today. Here, Scott has penned his best batch of tunes yet. And the execution is perfect. While the low-fi sound on the previous Lions disc, Song Cyclops, Volume 1 was entirely appropriate for the fantasy world embodied in many of the lyrics, the recording here is more straightforward. There is still a dream like quality to a lot of the tracks, which is simply a by-product of Scott's compositions, but the mood here is more dramatic and cinematic. This disc possesses a miniature form of majesty.

Scott still laces his lyrics with mythological and historical references, which are sometimes tied to more personal themes and other times standing on their own. Scott's use of this source material is equal parts Umberto Eco (for those of you whom have read Foucault's Pendulum) and The Mountain Goats' John Darnielle. Even though there is sadness and anger expressed in some of these tracks, there is still a comforting aspect, as the acoustic guitars and Scott's sweet croon billow about your head.
There may be no track sadder, and sad in an epic sense, than "Texas is the Reason", which comes across as a stretched out variation on a Gene Pitney ballad, the drums playing in march tempo in the verses, with the lead guitar kicking in as the chorus rises up like a monolith coming out of the ground in a Terry Gilliam movie, while the cymbals splash as the tears fall. This song really paints a picture, as I imagine Scott walking alone under the big sky on a road with no cars in sight, the heat radiating off the picture.

"Surfside Motel" goes in a different direction, epic yet intimate, and the sentiments are sentimental and sweet. The lyrics strictly stream of consciousness (ex. -- "and don't you know it was the government/stopped The Beach Boys from releasing Smile), returning to the central concept, that no matter what else goes on "we could fall in love". The melody is delicate and the swells of the faux-timpani, the keyboard embellishments and synthesized strings fortify it and make it devastatingly heartrending.

The Beach Boys are clearly an inspiration, as noted above. How Scott and company use them is intriguing. They seem to have learned from Pet Sounds that you need some simple snappy tunes, which ground the more emotional tracks, and allow for some contrast. The luddite "Sunshine Spartacus" (with the Mamas and Papas style backing vocals) and the affirming "Saturday Mansions", which sounds like all cheer and possibility are the songs that provide the purest joy on the disc.

Moreover, Scott has a keen feel for the emotional impact of chords and notes. One of the things that characterizes the best Brian Wilson songs is that the music tells the story, and the words were usually very simple, as when the music sounds broken hearted, there's not much need to say more than "I've got a broken heart". Elvis Costello-type lyrics would have blown the effect. Scott goes the other way – his lyrics are cryptic and elusive, but still plant hints. He uses the music to fill in those gaps, creating a similar emotional pull. But whereas Wilson's teenage symphonies were grounded in problems common to every one who has ever had to grow up, Scott's songs are in his private universe. Through his music, you may not understand everything he's trying to get at. However, you will feel it. This is a very special album.

_______________________________________________________

Anna Waronker
Anna

(Five Foot Two/Oglio)

annawaronker.com

This record is a frustrating exercise in hearing a woman with a load of talent fail to put it in a context that really displays it to the fullest. Anna Waronker arrived on the scene with the band that dog, who initially came on like The Roches doing punk-pop, and then moved to more straight ahead pop-rock territory. Both of their albums had fine moments, but the band never reached its full potential. Waronker has dipped her toes in various projects since that dog split. This solo effort is her responsibility, as both writer and producer, though she gets assists from top talents like her husband, Steve (Redd Kross) McDonald, her sister-in-law Charlotte (The Go-Go's) Caffey, drummer Joey (Beck, R.E.M.) Waronker and, on one track, violinist Lisa Germano, who is, as far as I know, not related to Anna in any way, shape or form.
This is essentially an album of pro forma guitar rock. It is comparable to the solo debut of Veruca Salt's Nina Gordon, though a bit more rocking. No track better illustrates what went wrong with this record than "How Do You Sleep?". Ostensibly a snotty rocker, the song is simply played too safely, blunting the impact of what should have been a cool number. Imagine Big Hello playing this, and how much better it would be (an especially apt comparison, as Waronker's vocal sounds a lot like Chloe F. Orwell). Other tracks suffer from a similar flatness, such as "All for You" and "Perfect Ten". The latter track is particularly disappointing, as it seems to be trying for a synergy between New York Dolls rocking and early Blondie snarl, yet merely runs in place.

Some other songs just aren't strong enough to sustain interest. "Fortunes of Misfortune" has not much to offer other than a clever title, while "Nothing Personal" is plain dull. "A Hollow Daze" has a decent melody, but lacks a hook, either musical or lyrical, and ends up just being filler.

There are some tracks where things come together. Waronker gets to show off the top of her range on the affecting slow number "John and Maria", which also has one of her best sets of lyrics. "Beautiful" lives up to its title, as it's a ballad that just melts into the ears, showcasing Waronker at her most vulnerable. "I Wish You Well" is a fizzy rocker in the vein of Sparkle * Jets U.K. and the aforementioned Big Hello.

This album is an example of why its usually a good idea to have an outside producer. Two problems that occur here may have been resolved by someone not so tied to the material: 1) areas in the songs and performances that needed a bit of work, and, 2) the scourge of a perfectionist – the caliber of the musicians here is impeccable, but it's easy to believe that Waronker, wanting to get everything right, may have gone with more technically sound performances, which diminished the personality of the album as a whole. Maybe I'm wrong about this, but something needs to be fixed for her next album, since Waronker is too talented to put out such an average record.

_______________________________________________________

Pere Ubu
St Arkansas

(Coking Vinyl/Spin Art)

spinartrecords.com

Since reforming in 1988 for the fine The Tenement Year album, Pere Ubu has continued to record some of the most unique records in rock. After flirting with the mainstream on the masterful Cloudland album, the band made a couple more stabs at more ‘normal' music. After some personnel changes, they made a decided effort to get back to their proto-industrial damaged garage rock roots. This started with 1995's Ray Gun Suitcase, which leavened the oddball synth sounds and repetitive riffs with some of the melodic magic the band incorporated in the late ‘80s/early ‘90s. The disc was truly the best of both worlds. Pennsylvania, the follow up, did not match this achievement, as the band seemed directionless – it sounded like Pere Ubu, but was almost devoid of compelling tracks.

After some time off, Dave Thomas is back in charge and Ubu is back to form. There are some terrific songs on here, and the performances and production are consistently brilliant. A good comparison/contrast could be done using this album and the new Wilco disc. Not to knock Wilco, but a lot of the ideas they are playing with in regards to unusual sounds and the use of sonic space have been fertile territory for Pere Ubu for years, and this disc shows that Pere Ubu has mastered these concepts.
The space has a specific purpose here, as the sonic atmosphere is tailored to a batch of songs about a businessman's road trip. Yep, this is a concept album, which careens from existential to absurd to serious to silly. You can't help but crack up when, after an intro where the band sounds like its playing the blues on toy instruments, Thomas, in his heaviest vibrato, croons: "I wear a suit/and honey I wear a tie/yeah yeah yeah". The song twinks along, coming off like the "Peter Gunn Theme" recast for a salesman who is less Death Of A Salesman's Willie Loman than a (more?) spineless version of Glengarry Glen Ross's Shelley Levene. Adding to the atmosphere is the unique drum sound – flat and mechanical snare tapping, it sounds artificial, but it can't be. Can it?

The band mines further comedy on the lurching "Steve", with the drums sounding like machines, as Thomas sings the melody that spirals and stumbles like a dizzy child. Thomas spouts off observations and melodies, like "my baby told me/she does not feel frisky" in a voice that not only sounds desparate and bewildered, but so devoid of sexuality – well, who would feel frisky around that guy? This is not a conventional song, yet it succeeds because it so thoroughly establishes the angst the protagonist is experiencing.

There are other tracks where the song structure is far from conventional, or just loose, but these work their conceptual purpose. "333" is all groove, but a groove that sounds like trailing down the interstate. The song takes a left turn into muted guitar and bass and just fades away. This is followed by the crawling "Hell", where the protagonist is truly at the depths. The sole instrumentation for most of the track is a minimal percussion track and distant keyboard sounds and an offbeat piano. Spooky.
This is definitely an album that needs to be played all the way through. The climax comes on the finale "Dark", which is kind of the Salesman's Manifesto, a declaration that he drives because he's been hurt and wants to be alone, repeating the mantra: "the radio/the AM radio/the AM radio/will set you free." The cymbals crash, the bass is omnipresent, popping and rumbling while the lead guitar plays a pinched and staccato pattern – this song is constantly moving forward, the rhythm (and this song is all about rhythm) establishing the aimless and the escape that Thomas is singing about. To escape and yet be trapped in your own emotional prison – I imagine a lot of people live that life.
I'm still finding new things to appreciate in the lyrics and the music on this disc. This record may very well stand up with their best work. Regardless, it is a great summation of the past 10 to 15 years of its career, taking a lot of their basic musical themes and applying them to a great story.

_______________________________________________________

Various Artists
Do The Pop!

(Shock)

shock.com.au

This 50-track, two-disc compilation of the late-‘70s/early ‘80s Australian rock scene opens with the one-two punch of The Saints and Radio Birdman – with "(I'm) Stranded" and "New Race", respectively – because there is no other way to open it. Those two bands ignited one of the most fertile and enduring scenes in rock and roll – Australia has never lacked for kick ass guitar crunch. My first thought while these tracks played was how both bands have been historically slotted into the punk category, though they both pre-dated punk. If Ramones and Sex Pistols had never happened, The Saints and Radio Birdman would still have been fighting the good fight. Compiler David Laing, in his extensive liner notes, makes this point more precisely. He goes on to explain the development of this scene (along with great track-by-track essays).

The only flaw in this set is that by the end of the second disc, 50 tracks seems woefully short. In the midst of the new garage revival, this stuff sounds as primo (and primal) as it ever did – the only thing that time stamps these recordings is the nature of the recordings themselves. If one thing separates most of these bands from a lot of the punk-inspired bands from the States and Britain, is the Aussie stuff just flows better – the drumming is crisper, the rhythms just swinging a little bit better, without a trace of plod.

The first disc, for the most part, showcases bands who managed to worship the surf and Detroit, usually at the same time. This is patently obvious on Johnny Kannis's "King of the Surf", where Kannis is backed by most of Radio Birdman, and stinging surf guitar leads meld with MC5 inspired power rock. Of course, this combo worked perfectly on the most famous Birdman track, included here, "Aloha Steve & Danno".

Some of the bands showed off other inspirations. The Victims, featuring future Hoodoo Gurus Dave Falkner and James Baker (who later led The Beasts Of Bourbon), fall right between snotty British punk rock and basic ‘60s garage on "Television Addict", where Falkner defends his right to watch Dinah Shore. The criminally underrated Celibate Rifles had some of that surf thing, but accelerated it into a new dimension, and "24 Hours (SOS)" sounds like a bridge to hardcore punk.

Still, the scene, as illustrated on the first disc, was quite consistent, as even the acts whose names are less known had shining moments, such as The Sunnyboys ("Happy Men"), The Passengers, with great lead vox from Angie Pepper ("Face with No Name"), and The Visitors on the blistering "Living World". While these names faded, some mutated, like the transition from Radio Birdman to The New Christs, led by Rob Younger of the Birdman. The Christs carried on the tradition quite well.

One revelation on the first disc is an early track from The Scientists, "Last Night" -- this is pretty peppy rock and roll, reflecting the fact that the band was covering The Undertones in its sets. The band shifted to its bluesier/garagier side (like Nick Cave doing Cramps covers), illustrated on the first track on Disc 2, the classic "Swampland", with spy movie guitars, a general sinister atmosphere and a passionate Kim Salmon vocal. The second disc shows the scene further diversifying, while many groups retained that special Detroit gone Down Under magic.
The Scientists and The Lime Spiders (their classic "Slave Girl" is included here) probably stuck closest to the original game plan. But others found cool new wrinkles. The Died Pretty added psychedelic organ stab freak outs ("Mirror Blues, Pt. 1"), The Hard Ons and Exploding White Mice integrated lessons from Ramones (not nearly enough Mice on here for my taste), twang came more into the picture (ex. -- The Headstones' "When You're Down") and The Someloves and The Stems managed to make music with dirty guitars and pretty pop melodies, the latter's "At First Sight" ranking among the best Aussie pop singles ever.

In the midst of these newer groups, The Hoodoo Gurus, Celibate Rifles and New Christs continued to bash away. Qualitywise, the second disc is not quite up to the standard of the first, but it convincingly shows that the circle remained unbroken. This release is quite timely, with bands like Radio Birdman and the Gurus getting together for reunion gigs and tours. Writers like Steve Gardner (former publisher of *Noise For Heroes* and now a contributor to *The Big Takeover* have been singing the praises of this scene for years, so take this opportunity to find out what he (and others) have correctly raved about.

_______________________________________________________

The Chevelles
Girl God

(Zip)

ziprecords.com

Highly regarded Australian power pop quartet gets some pretty cool assistance on their latest. Even if the participation of Michael Carpenter on a fistful of tracks and Redd Kross dude Steve McDonald on a pair more is merely behind the mixing desk, those two names should give you an idea as to where upon the radar screen you'll find The Chevelles. They share the buoyant melodicism of Carpenter, with a harder rocking cheeriness that is very similar to Redd Kross. Guitarists Duane Smith and Adrian Allen split the songwriting duties, and other than subtle nuances, I haven't heard anything that sets one too far apart from the other. This makes for a remarkably consistent record.

Well, since I mentioned Redd Kross, let me back that up with some example. First and foremost, there's "Madeleine", a wonderful blend of power chords with a strong melody, made for top down driving on Santa Monica Freeway (well, at about 3 a.m., when there isn't going to be much traffic). Even Smith's vocal has a McDonaldish tinge to it. The chorus dazzles, as the rhythm guitar parts shift into total sympathy with the melody. There's even a blistering guitar solo and drummer David Huck Shaw burns some calories, between his sharp fills and bashing some cymbals on ocassion.

McDonald mixes "C'Mon Everybody", which a bit less hard rocking that "Madeleine", but has the type of teen celebration chorus that he used to write and sing back in the day. This is one of Allen's tunes, and his bridge is almost as killer as the chorus. When the chorus breaks down to a wee bit of guitar and handclaps before spinning back into the rock lane – it's too late, The Chevelles have you where they want you.

One thing those two songs have in common, is that they sound like singles – they're not merely catchy, but they are honed, they are full compositions, there's no skimping on the arrangements. A few other songs hit this level. "Make it Happen" is mid-tempo magic, with a thick guitar sound contrasted by a light lead part – this is what Oasis would sound like if they were fun, I think. The band gets awfully heavy on "Angelina Jolie", which has some bluesy lead guitar licks – this sounds like Kiss covering the Undertones (best comparison I could come up with). The rhythm section is so stellar here, as they could have tried to match the guitar power. Instead, Shaw and bassist Jeff Halley play with such deftness and verve that the song handles the curves and straightaways and never gets bogged down. One-hundred eighty degrees away from that tune, "Goodbye Sally" has sweet verses, like a 1965 British Invasion charmer, but the refrain is amped up, and brings back memories of past power pop luminaries like Silver Sun.

The production is splendid throughout. The sound is clean, but not in a way that blunts the band's power. It melds the best things about live performance and studio recording, so things are jumping throughout. For those about to rock, pick up this disc.

______________________________________________________

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

______________________________________________________