Scroll down for the latest releases by New Pornographers, St. Etienne, Steve Dawson, Rob Dickinson and The Bomb

The New Pornographers
Twin Cinema

(Matador/Mint)

matadorrecords.com

From the get go, Vancouver's New Pornographers have specialized in dense power pop songs that are stuffed full of sound and brimming with plenty of twists and turns. Their third album presents more of the same, yet it's decidedly different. I guess the best way to put it is that some of the songs have a bit more sophistication. To that extent, some tracks on this record were foreshadowed by Carl (A.C.) Newman's solo debut last year. So this album doesn't represent any major departure. It's more of finding more things that the New Pornographers can do within the wide boundaries they've established for themselves. When you sound like you've been influenced by a few thousand great pop and rock acts, you have a lot of leeway.

Moreover, the band's sound is so singular and well-honed, that anything they come up with is New Pornographers-ized. It's a combination of the instrumental approach and the distinctive vocals of Newman, Dan Bejar and Neko Case. Moreover, there's the sly and impenetrable lyrics that typify the songs. Newman (and, not quite so much, Bejar) come up with words that are as hard to figure out as Scott (Game Theory/The Loud Family) Miller, The Cars (Mr. Ocasek) and Guided By Voices. Snatches of lines make sense, though it's probably hard to assign full meaning to most songs. As the music gets denser and more complex, Newman is not always successful at coming up with lines that compliment the catchy music, blunting potential hooks in the process.

Yet, there are so many hooks, that the album is still compulsively listenable. If there's one major flaw, it's that there is no single track that ranks with "Letter From an Occupant" or "The Laws Have Changed". Of course, some songs do come close. Moreover, while I find Newman's lyrics sometimes hamper songs a bit, he readily compensates with an uncanny ability to give a song something extra.

Take "Bleeding Heart Show". The song actually starts in classic soul ballad style, Newman's voice against a dramatic piano part. It sounds pretty conventional, by New Pornographers standards. The song then builds with drums and organ into Newman and Case singing together, with the melody building to a gossamer wordless vocal from Case. This part is the bridge into the finale of the song. It's like a mini-musical, as suddenly a chorus of New Pornos "hey la hey las" ad infinitum appears, and Case is joined by a cast including Newman's niece Kathryn Calder and Chicago chanteuse Nora O'Connor (Andrew Bird's Bowl of Fire, ex-Blacks). This song really goes places.
Granted, not every twist is so dramatic, but the band always finds something a little different to add to a song. On "Falling Through Your Clothes", a song that sounds like an outtake from Newman's solo album, the mournful verse leads into strong repeating chords and words. It is a striking contrast and Newman, as always, somehow finds a way to make the disparate parts fit together.

Dan Bejar gets in the act on the purported sequel to the debut album's "Jackie", "Jackie, Dressed in Cobras". The song is a piece of zippy guitar-pop. Typical New Pornos. Then the middle-eight comes from somewhere else. It's a breezy Bacharach or bossa nova refugee, filtered through Bejar's pinched voice.

The best voice, of course, belongs to Case, and she gets two showcases, both which are terrific. "These Are The Fables" is a ballad with a gentle guitar and piano backing. There is a hint of Electric Light Orchestra in the moody melody, not to mention the subtle cello. Layers of instruments (especially keyboards) filter in as the song moves on. The song builds until a piano/drum/Case break down, providing a bit of release after three minutes of haunting gorgeousness. Although "The Bones of an Idol" starts like it might be another ballad, it moves into mid-tempo mystery pop, as a rollicking piano meshes with distant warm guitars.

As time has gone on, I've found myself really connecting with this album. The New Pornographers are a band that I have such high expectations for and whose first two albums I love so much, it took a while for this album to stand on its own as a unit, rather than just another collection of tracks. My time with the album has been well spent, as I now believe this is another worthy entry in the catalog. I still stand by my statement that this album could use a killer single-type song or two, but otherwise, this is simply the third top notch disc from this band.

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Rob Dickinson
Fresh Water For The Horses

(Sanctuary)

sanctuaryrecords.com

The first solo album from the former Catherine Wheel frontman shows him continuing to explore the same musical territory. Perhaps it's not quite as epic and rocking, and a bit more streamlined. But this familiar sound is still as inviting as ever. Moreover, a little time away from the grind of recording and touring seems to have done Dickinson some good. He sounds refreshed and thoroughly engaged in the material.

The roar of guitars is not heard as frequently as you might expect. But this isn't really an issue. From back in the days of Catherine Wheel's debut Ferment, the swirls of feedback and chords were always in service of strong melodies. Really, the instruments are just provide different colors.

Listen carefully to "Intelligent People". Try to imagine it with heavier guitars, perhaps a bit different rhythm, more accommodating to Marshall stacks. The tune would still stick. Yet that approach would be wholly inappropriate for what is a bit of fatherly advice. The tone of this song reminds me of Paul McCartney's "Put it There". Here, Dickinson is explaining a simple fact of life – hang out with smart folks. After all, if you don't, you might end up in the Oval Office surrounded by people named Cheney and Rove and Rumsfeld (OK - I'll grant they are intelligent, but I don't think Rob's singing about their ilk). Everything on this track sounds so warm, especially the bass line and Dickinson's vocals: "So come my son/shake off your hate for everyone/because your hate will only break you." A simple message perhaps, but worth singing about.

This peace and love vibe comes forth in other spots. The opening track, "My Name Is Love", shows that Coldplay didn't just rip off Radiohead, as this song has a glistening rock power that has been a Dickinson hallmark for over a decade. Unlike Chris Martin's swoony wispiness as a singer, Dickinson sings with power and urgency (not a knock on Martin, just a distinction). Dickinson's declaration is soaring and definitive – this is a song about being a rock for the one you love. The chorus is a multi-tracked band of Dickinsons, singing with passion and tenderness.

This album has a deliberate flow. The lighter and quieter tracks come at the beginning and the end. "The Night" is the third track, and it's a wonderful ballad, starting out with Dickinson and an acoustic guitar. There is very little else to augment this intimate song, with just a little extra layering in the simple chorus: "The night drags on/I'm thinking of you". A spare melody, a direct sentiment and a devoted performance. What else do you need?

As the album moves on, the guitars come to the fore. "Handsome" gets things going. This is the old standby. Start quiet and build up to a big explosion. It worked in the Catherine Wheel. And it still works. Particularly after the tracks preceding it, this really raises the roof. Then Dickinson gets down and dirty on "Bathe Away". The song begins with a dirty riff, a drum beat and a repetitive keyboard in the background. It's a bit funky, and contrasts the beauty of so much of the album. Nevertheless, there's still a strong melody in the verse. And another big hook, as Dickinson advises to "bathe away your beauty". I'd like to tell you what the hell that means, but I'm still trying to figure it out.

The album cools down towards the end. "Bad Beauty" is another acoustic based number and the penultimate track "Don't Change" has a bit of that Pink Floyd space-blues vibe that came across on some Catherine Wheel numbers. This song comes off as strangely obsessive, as Dickinson advises someone (a lover?) not to: bathe, wash, shower, eat, grow, age and so forth. Just stay the same. This is almost the complete opposite of "My Name Is Love", as Dickinson is not open and intimate, he just wants someone to be one way and one way only. There is a subtle (or maybe it's not subtle) menace here.

The worst thing I can say about this record is there is no "Black Metallic" here, but any songwriter is only allowed one of those. This is Dickinson picking up where he left off, making music that is familiar, yet no one else can do it but him. If you are a Catherine Wheel fan, you owe it to yourself to pick it up. If you're not familiar with the Catherine Wheel, here's a chance to hear an artist who kind of fit in with the shoegazers, while also foreshadowing Radiohead. He's that good.

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Saint Etienne
Tales From Turnpike House

(Sanctuary)

sanctuaryrecords.co.uk

The urbane sounds of Saint Etienne move out to the suburbs, in a conceptual series of character studies. Musically, Saint Etienne is at the top of their pop game. They don't break any new ground, but sound invigorated by taking on something different lyrically. Not that they haven't written some nice observational material before, it's just that this is a somewhat more thematically focused record.

The track that really puts things in focus is "Milk Bottle Symphony". It's an intent mid-tempo synth pop track. The always wonderful Sarah Cracknell then proceeds to chronicle the lives of many of the inhabitants of one building. As usual, Cracknell perfectly phrases the words, coming off as a modern day Dionne Warwick, but with a certain British reserve. Bandmates Bob Stanley and Pete Wiggs work out a wonderful music bed, adding distant backing vocals, strings and wind instruments to the mix. In a nod to Brian Wilson, after an acoustic guitar interlude, the song goes silent, before coming in with light keyboard and another sketch from Cracknell. Got keep those lovely melancholy vibrations a happening. This is truly a pop symphony.

After meeting many of the citizens of this corner of London, many other tales are spun. Now, I'm not sure how many of these are concept specific. If anything, it's almost like the concept just allowed them to throw together a series of character studies. No complaints here. So the fact that "A Good Thing" could appear on any recent Saint Etienne album is a high compliment. A light funk track is the backing for Cracknell's chronicle of a woman who gave up on a love that she shouldn't have – or, maybe it's about a woman who pulls away before she can really achieve intimacy. The track has a good beat, a melody drenched in melancholy (again!) and a hook that sticks.

And it's not even close to the best dance track on the album. That honor may go to the breezy "Stars Above Us". This song lilts like the best Tahiti 80, as Cracknell waxes poetic about hanging out on the rooftop. This sounds like it could have been a hit in 1985 or 1995, and perhaps in 2005. That disco throb and gentle bouncy guitar still sounds good. In contrast, "Lightning Strikes Twice" is a drama for the dance floor, in the tradition of songs like Pet Shop Boys' "It's a Sin". Lyrically, this is classic pop – getting her man back is just like lightning striking twice. The metaphor is simple, and she clings to that hope. The urgency of the song matches how strongly she needs to believe she can win him back.

Other songs are more specific to the milieu. "Side Streets" comes from a ‘60 soft-pop/Bacharach tradition. The song is about whether or not to walk outside at night. It's elegant defiance. The last two lines of the chorus say it all: "if I let myself believe the bad press and all the stories/I wouldn't set a foot outside." This song is simply brilliant – the dark theme is totally at odds with the sunny music. The dark theme is also very much out of proportion to the ‘dangers' Cracknell sings about. A very clever poke at exaggerated suburban fears of crime.

The drama is heightened on "Teenage Winter", which is virtually a spoken word piece. This song revisits some of the characters from earlier in the album. It deals with the subtle changes that can take place in a suburb. A closed shop, a pub that takes out the jukebox, and so forth. This may seem mundane, but its part of the fabric of life. This pretty song could be viewed as overromanticizing the trivial. But I see it as empathizing with the small events in life that can seem big momentarily. It is unremarkable that time passes, since it is inevitable, but that doesn't mean one can't be sad for memories tarnished and dreams unfulfilled.

One unabashed highlight of the album is the duet between Cracknell and David Essex, "Relocate". Yes, Mr. "Rock On" himself. The song is a 21st Century Green Acres debate. Cracknell wants to move to the country, while Essex would prefer to just stay in the city. Essex's voice has settled and developed some real rough edges. He sounds just right, weary of this argument that has taken place many times. When Essex notes that if they move "I'll miss my mates" you can hear a real sense of sadness.

This album has garnered some Kinks comparisons, for obvious reasons. This isn't quite so nostalgic, but it is a look at suburban ways and mores. Whereas a lot of Ray Davies' observations were about holding onto things, Saint Etienne is taking a look at the routine of life, which has its good points and bad points. There is something to be said for being in a secure environment with people you know and familiar situations. Yet you can become a slave to a routine. There is certainly no resolution of this conflict here, but the success of the album is how Saint Etienne is able to address these thoughts, without it interfering with their ability to craft enduring pop songs.

The Bomb
Indecision

(Thick)

thickrecords.com

Nearly five years after The Bomb's debut full length, Jeff Pezzati, the former Naked Raygun frontman, teams up with a new group of musicians. While this could be a recipe for inconsistency, if not disaster, Pezzati and his current mates take a step forward from the terrific debut, finding a middle ground from the pop-tinged punk of the band's debut disc and the edgier post-punk sounds of Raygun. The band still tilts toward the melodic side of things, but both musically and lyrically things are heavier.

The Bomb teamed up with the right guy to help implement this slight change in focus. J. Robbins produces this record, and this record has the same sharp, powerful sound that typifies his other productions, particularly his own bands, the late great Jawbox and Burning Airlines, and the current Channels. His sensibility is similar enough to Pezzati's to be sympathetic, but different enough that one imagines that he made some suggestions that only pushed The Bomb to greater heights.

Like the first Bomb record, Pezzati focuses on personal matters. Some songs are about relationships, others look at personalities, and some are just about coping with day-to-day life. They come with plenty of muscular guitar playing, courtesy of Jeff Dean, who penned most of the music for the album. Moreover, there are even some trademark ‘whoa-oh' vocals, showing how faithfully Pezzati is carrying on the Raygun tradition (as his former bandmate John Haggerty did in the wonderful band Pegboy).

On "Faith Anymore", Pezzati manages to come off as defiant (he can't help it – he often does) and resigned. Pezzati is singing about a life falling apart, as he says he can only "see the friends around me flee." He's bitter and hurt and hopes to find a new place and new friends. This is like punk blues, with taut angry music that teeters on explosion and seethes throughout.

Whereas "Faith Anymore" is internal, on "Burn It All" Pezzati lashes out as someone who must really deserve it. It starts with Dean's prickly guitar and Pezzati's spoken vocals, and then lopes into a ska rhythm with Pezzati's vocals disembodied. The song then kicks in (and the rhythm section of Pete Mittler on bass and Mick Soucy on drums just cooks). The song alternates between clanging chords and chugging rhythm with a melodic salvo in the chorus. Pezzati fires from both barrels: "Blendin' in is your main feat/it helps you to be so complete/your guts say you are so dead wrong/you shouldn't belong." It finishes with Pezzati wailing that "you will fall, as I push you up against the wall", with a little celebratory flair.

You may be sensing a theme here. You'd be right. In one way or another, the bulk of the album deals with missed connections and broken relationships. This would be a good post-break up album, since there are songs which you can raise your fist to and sing along, like the hyper-catchy "Never Want to See You Again" and the melodic "Nothing to Say". There are also songs that are just better for brooding. Like "Bring the Shotgun". I suppose this might be the only song which evinces any positive thoughts ("you're a turn-on"), but it ends with Pezzati stating that "right by my side/you'd rob banks with me," and I just wonder what's really going on.

All in all, this is a powerhouse record with nimble playing and stellar production. This album shows that Pezzati continues to make vital music that doesn't so much update Naked Raygun's sound so much as confirm how modern it still sounds today.

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Steve Dawson
Sweet Is The Anchor

(Undertow)

undertowmusic.com

This is the debut solo album from the front man for Dolly Varden. On this solo voyage, Dawson doesn't radically depart from the last two Dolly Varden records, so much as he sharpens his focus on the soul/R & B elements that are part of Dolly Varden's Americana sound. And well he should, as Dawson is blessed with a wonderful singing voice. He's a homespun, Midwestern variant on Van Morrison (and I'm not the first to make that comparison), who never, ever strains and means every note he sings.

Dawson carefully crafted this record last year, playing most of the instruments himself. If you listen intently, and why wouldn't you, all that work is evident. Yet, the one thing that is so striking about Dawson's work is that it sounds so effortless. I don't mean tossed off. I mean it sounds so natural. The songs just seem to pour out of him, with conviction and, even in less than happy moments, a palpable contentment – he makes it appear that he loves making music.

Sometimes the soul is slathered on. The superb "Love Is a Blessing" is deep soul at its best. Dawson brings in Frank Rosaly to lay a fat groove down on drums and Tom Murray to provide some strings, and creates a do-it-yourself Willie Mitchell/Al Green style production. But this isn't just blind homage. This is as good as any top notch Southern soul from the early ‘70s, a passionate declaration of love – when Dawson sings "I need your body/next to mine" it is visceral, you can almost feel him shaking. This song is sad and joyful at the same time, and about as perfect as a song can be.

Although "Ten Thousand Pounds" is grounded in acoustic guitars, it is also a soul song. Joined by Dolly Varden's Diane Christiansen, Dawson emotes about big love: "we swept away/on Valentine's Day/you said/now do you love me/but I didn't make a sound/I'd given up the heart that weighed/10,000 pounds." Dawson's guitar work, with some slide licks thrown in, is fantastic, as he creates a great interplay between his parts, while Jason Roebke on the upright bass and Jason Adasiewicz on vibraphone provide more color. A lovely song. And if you need an extra dose of whatever-color-Steve's-eyes-are soul, turn to "Out of Your Mind" – R & B with pedal steel, two great tastes that taste surprisingly good together.

Love is not the only thing on Dawson's mind. "The Guilty Will Pay" is a topical number, with Dawson looking at the current world situation and not liking it. The song itself is a pithy folk pop wonder, somewhat comparable to Ron Sexsmith – if Ron was pissed off: "Well the carpet bombs and casualties are piling up outside/with a clockwork regularity that cannot be denied/and everybody is ashamed/but some day/the guilty will pay." The song is economical and that makes its simple statement all the more resonant.

As I said before, this album is not a gigantic departure from Dawson's Dolly Varden material, and some songs sound like they'd fit right in on their most recent releases. Indeed, "Reignite" is classic Dawson/Varden style material. The big difference is that he uses a different instrumental approach, with keyboards and what I think is a melodica, playing a prominent role. Oh, and the middle eight is devastatingly good. Another Varden-ish number is "I'm the One I Despise". Something about the verses reminds me a little bit of Neil Finn (great singer-songwriters think and sometimes sound a little alike?). The breeziness of the song contrasts sharply with its words – Dawson sings of a self-awareness epiphany, and realizes that he's to blame for unspecified transgressions.

This is an impressive record. Particularly when you consider what a great set of musicians that Dawson plays with in Dolly Varden. As always, the songs are already good. Dawson, by himself, has infused each one with its own life, giving them the right feel and the right feelings. This may be the best thing Dawson has done yet.

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