Mike Bennett Reviews, December, 2003

Scroll down for reviews of the latest releases by Dave Rave, The Pills, Tiara and The Boris Flats

The Gay
You Know The Rules

(Mint)

mintrecs.com

Whenever an unheralded band works with a producer with a distinct identity, it broaches a chicken-and-egg type question -- does the band sound this way because they sound this way, and they worked with a producer who it enhanced their sound, or, does the band sound this way because the producer molded them in his image. This happened all the time when Todd Rundgren produced records.

The reason these questions crop up, I suppose, is that a reviewer is trying to sort out who is responsible for what, which is easy to understand. This tends to be a double edged sword. Using the Rundgren example, some bands would get flak for sounding like Utopia Jr. under his guidance (prime example -- The Pursuit of Happiness, who later proved that was just their sound), despite the fact that writers often laud producers at the expense of artists, in cases like Phil Spector, Gamble and Huff and many more. Either way, the artist may end up with the short end of the stick.

Still, it's hard to avoid scrutinizing the producer in a case like this. The Gay are a Vancouver band whose producer is Kurt Dahle of The New Pornographers (and other bands). I wish I hadn't known that, but, hey, I was going to look at the liner notes at some point. So I can't help but hear some things that remind me of The New Pornographers. Which is unfair to The Gay, who have a lot going for them, such as writing cool lyrics like "Hey Cindy Lou/what would Wanda Jackson do/if put in the same circumstance."

The band is an interesting mix of college radio pop with fine folk-pop oriented vocals. Within these relatively broad parameters, the band retains a consistent sensibility while mixing up its approach on the songs. So the band can ride on a moderate chug, as on the opening track "Opulent Canine", which has a winning ebb-and-flow melody which rides the wave created by the complimentary parts being played by guitarist Tobey Black and accordionist Maija Martin. The chorus of the song borders on poppy Blondie or something.

In contrast, "Bed of Tines" eschews the straight ahead. Though the song immediately appears to be a swoony folk warble, a dramatic piano-bass middle eight moves the song into galloping rock territory. After the middle eight concludes, next comes an instrumental break that could have come off a Robert Wyatt or Tin Huey record. When the original verse melody finally comes back into play, it is doubly effective. Terrific song.

So where do I see the similarities with The New Pornographers? It's a combination of the odd clever lyrics and certain musical wrinkles. I could easily hear Carl, Neko and the gang tackling "Critics", for instance. If the chorus were rocked up, it has a melody and structure that would fit with their M.O. And "Palace", for some reason, reminds me of "Breakin' The Law", off of Mass Romantic. Maybe it's just because both songs are made to inspire audience sing-a-longs, with choruses that you can sway to, or, at the very least, raise your fist in the air, in a tender manner, if such a thing is possible.

Then again, there are numbers that defy simple comparison. "Robert Smith" is a complex creation that melds The Mekons (in their early-‘90s rock phase), The Roches and heaven knows what else. On "Fishin' Jim", the vocal is extra-girly and the song has "ba-ba" vocals and a folk ballad orientation. "Lonely" is just a terrific pop tune, and showcases Black's personable voice.

Don't let this review make it seem like The Gay is all over the place. It is just hard to classify their sound in just a few words (and I haven't even rolled out the Glass Eye and Pee Shy comparisons yet). Let's just say that they have already developed their own voice, that might be reminiscent of others, but more than stands on its own.

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The Pills
A Fistful Of Pills

(Primary Voltage)

primaryvoltage.com

The Pills have now put out three albums, and about the only area in which they haven't steadily improved is album cover design, and I may be biased, since I thought the young woman on the cover of their debut was ultracute. Otherwise, The Pills have done what bands are supposed to do -- get better. As the band's songs get stronger and more sophisticated, the punky mod energy that they unleashed on their debut is still in plentiful supply. The Pills now harness that energy so that it serves the songs without overwhelming them.

So you end up with a disc that can be favorably compared to everything from early Elvis Costello & the Attractions to the poppier stuff on Nuggets to The Undertones to The Smugglers -- The Pills are that catchy, crackling and clever. Exhibit A is the riff ridden "Slam Book", with atypical screaming vocals and thick rhythm guitars panning all over the speakers. The verses are the structured sounds of things falling apart, while the bridge pulls things together with the majesty of Guided By Voices, leading into a chorus that is midway between Cheap Trick and The Young Fresh Fellows. (Of course, I don't mean that they sound exactly like any of these bands -- The Pills are comparable, not mere mimics).

Exhibit B is even better, and displays some of that sophistication I was talking about above. "Brand New Pair of Eyes" is a corker. This is a classic theme -- a guy telling his ex that she's made a mistake, and he's still the only one for her. Check out these clever observational lyrics: "Does he know about the secret spot between your shoulder blades/does he know to wrap his feet around your legs at night/does he know about your student loans/or the way your favorite rocking chair groans/as you rise to make the tea". The song also has a classic build up from throbbing mid-tempo groove to a blistering melodic guitar fueled chorus that shows an utter command of dynamics (the guitars dropping out as the title phrase is gently sung). Throw in the nifty keyboard dominated middle eight and a final chorus that has that extra bit of oomph to drive the song home...well, you have a goddamn great tune.

This track is equaled by the marvelous "Kissing the Dirt". The song starts off with an almost dub-like quality, with Corin Ashley playing deftly on the bass, and Dave Aaronoff providing multiple accents on the keyboards, including a cool psychedelic "Strawberry Fields"-like part near the end of the verse, that builds the bridge into the chorus. And the chorus provides a big time release, as a bed of acoustic guitars builds the melody into an exemplary pop-rock hook. By the end of the track, that hook is monolithic. The Pills other visits to the land of mellow don't venture out into such rocking extremes, but both the sweet "Almost Inman Square" (a Splitsville-worthy ballad) and "Rock and Roll Heart" (which does rock, but in an appropriately reserved way, with a great Beatleish touch at the end of the chorus) provide further evidence that The Pills have two ace songwriters (Ashley and guitarist David Thompson) who are not slaves to fast tempos.

The creativity on display here makes me think that The Pills are on par with so much of the wonderful music (incorrectly tagged as New Wave, back in the day) of the early-‘80s, where so many great bands, from The Undertones to The Boomtown Rats, et al., accented their rock with other styles. Of course, sometimes it's their jagged catchy riffs that evoke that era -- for example, the dual guitar work on "Fighting Words" is reminiscent of early Joe Jackson and the best of 999.

Topping it all off is a the crisp sound of the record -- the band and Roger Lavallee handled the production chores quite well. (Kudos to Lavallee for his work on the Marxaphone too, though I don't have the slightest clue what that is). This record shows how maturity is not a dirty word, particularly when a band isn't wussing out. In addition to the aforementioned Splitsville and The Undertones, you can also compare this record favorably to bands such as Supergrass and The Wonder Stuff. The Pills might not quite be at that level, but, if not, they are really close, which is saying a lot.

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The Dave Rave Group
Everyday Magic

(Bullseye)

bullseyecanada.com

As I start to write this review, Jack McKeon, manager of the Florida Marlins, is being toasted by the press. He's the oldest manager to guide his team to the World Series (and, ultimately, win it). He has done it by ignoring a lot of current thinking on baseball strategies and going back to older strategies. In so doing, he's shown that the old stuff still works very well.

Though Dave Rave is nowhere near as long in tooth as Mr. McKeon, he is a rock and roll veteran. With his 14 years later follow up to the first Dave Rave Group platter, Mr. Rave demonstrates that there's no need to follow trends and having made a record that cannot be simply pigeonholed. Back in the ‘70s and into the ‘80s, a rock and roll record might be punk or new wave or power pop -- or it might just be a rock and roll record, doing a lot different things. Such virtues come through on this record, as Rave's unerring melodic instinct is the foundation for a varied and entertaining collection.

Indeed, the songs here are so timeless and classic that one could easily believe that they were recorded at the same time as the first Dave Rave Group album. While I started this review while the World Series was being played, weeks afterward, it is tough to write about this record, just because every track is of such a high quality, it's hard to figure out where to start.

Enough stalling. I'll start with the rockin' pop gems on the disc. Which is easy to do, since the album opening title cut is a rockin' pop gem. It reminds me of the best part of the late ‘70s/early ‘80s Rolling Stones -- the way (thanks in large part to Charlie Watts) they could raise a bit of a ruckus without breaking a sweat. The song is a celebration of the little things, and the big things: "When you fall in love/give it all you got/or take another shot". How cheerful. "Help Me Please" begins with a spoken word piece a la The Hombres' "Let ‘Em All Hang Out", though not as silly. The song then hits a boogiebilly stride that makes it the perfect companion to Billy Swan's classic "I Can Help". If Robert Plant ever does another Honeydrippers record, he should cover this puppy.

Then there are the delicate songs that pluck the heartstrings. "Cry Myself to Sleep" is lullaby simple, with an appropriately tender vocal by Rave. This song is an update on the type of balladeering that slayed the kids back in the early ‘60s. Heading into tearjerk territory, "Jennifer Cries" mixes a drum loop, a distant piano and strings, while Rave works an insistent melody with a gentle vocal: "it's a sad little lonely day/when you must go and part your ways/all these memories in this room/may just travel by oh so soon". Broken hearts linger and this song captures that terrible feeling superbly. "How Can I Stop" is a fragile piano piece, Rave straining his voice on a particularly poignant tale of romance turned extremely sour.

Rave's voice deserves all the attention I'm giving it. It is a deceptively powerful instrument, that has a hidden range that, when revealed, is wonderful to hear. Rave never shows off; instead, he is a master at finding the right approach for every song. Sometimes he's plain spoken, yet he can belt it out when necessary. This allows him to tackle such a wide variety of material. He keeps things reined in on the blues rock number "Don't Know What to Do", while unwinding a bit on "Madeline Says", a mid-tempo pop track that seems to bridge the gap between Marshall Crenshaw and the accessible side of The Velvet Underground.

This album is not only a fine companion to the first Dave Rave Group album, but represents the other side of the coin from Rave's excellent collaboration with Mark McCarron, Another Side Of Love. That album was a winning jazz-pop portrayal of love in bloom. Throughout this album, the bloom is off (and way off, most of the time), yet Rave makes it clear that the reason the heart aches so much is because of how great love makes us all feel. This album is as winning as it is wise, and is further evidence that Dave Rave is one of true underrated figures in rock today.

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Tiara
The Summer of the Lion, The Summer of the Lamb

(We Want Action)

wewantaction.com

A worthy follow up to their last release, Titletron, Tiara continues to make intelligent rock songs that rely on precise arrangements, solid melodies and smart execution. This is a recipe that has worked for bands ranging from Dumptruck to New Radiant Storm King, and Tiara continues in that fine tradition.

I'd imagine that Tiara's approach is a ticket to a limited audience. They don't show off instrumentally or try noise for noise's sake in order to capture a segment of the audience that wants to rock out a bit more (not that they don't have their fair share of volume heavy moments, as right now, I'm listening to a just furious enough bit of organized guitar/rhythm section chaos at the tail end of "Outside" that also opens the song, which is generally gentle but heats up easily to conflagration level) and while almost every song has at least one distinctive hooky bit, the songs are as much about mood and feeling, so that the hooks don't get sold quite the same way as in a pop song. Only one song on here immediately grabbed me by the lapels (why I was wearing a sportcoat just to listen to this disc is a mystery even to me), which is to be expected -- Tiara's records unfold and are initially inviting enough that I was more than willing to keep spending time with the disc and discover more great things.

The track that drew me in right away was "Drawings". At the song's center is a walking lead guitar part that is complimented by a bouncing rhythm and taut melody, with circular lyrics based on the idea of a woman drawing a picture of her dream. The lyrics and the lead guitar part head in the same direction. The choruses are choppy and urgent, but not overly rocking, which would overwhelm the sincere and urgent lead vocal. The music almost sounds like the band took two song ideas and melded them together -- they are both really strong. Not often does a song manage to radiate with happiness and uncertainty in such a winning fashion. I have to trot out a comparison to Dumptruck again (after all, they just reissued their first three albums), since this song equals the best of that masterful, underrated band.
Tiara then goes on to do a song that smacks a bit of Grandaddy, with the sometimes forced wigginess of that Cali band replaced with a romantic sensation that permeates the words and the music. The first verse of "Everyday" is about the daily slog, a world where you end up "vapor where you used to be." The second verse though is what gets you through -- knowing someone loves you and is waiting for you at the end of the day. The song then ends with a majestic instrumental coda that has a massive scope yet is bathed in sweetness. As I write about it, I'm wondering why THIS song didn't immediately grab me. (Must have been the sportcoat).

"What We've Become (Again)" is, on the surface, ridiculously traditional. The plucked guitar part that ornaments the verses could have come off an early rock-and-roll ballad. Of course, Tiara is not going to simply adhere to that formula. While Eric Rottmayer sings with compassion, surveying how we deal with broken romances, things kick up quite a few notches, kind of like ripping off a Band-Aid real fast, particularly on the second chorus. This song does not find the glass half-empty. The glass is empty, and probably dirty too: "‘cause everyone's in pain/from everything we've done/and we're all so fucked up/just look at what we've become." The band tears through this with such gusto, it comes off as black humor instead of self-pity.

Don't worry – it's just a mood. "In The Mirror of The Heavens" is a charmer, one of the most direct tunes on the disc, and quite the love song at that. Indeed, it's one of the few songs here that encourages simple analysis. This is a complex record in a good sense – it's not difficult, just layered. While this is consistent with the band's working method, perhaps a line up shift added to this quality. Guitarist Eric Kang joined the band last year, after it had originally decided to play as a trio (with the intact rhythm section of Brian Freshour (bass) and Brian Moore (drums)). Kang then added his own ideas to the material, adding his own guitar lines (I'm taking this from the band's website, by the way, I wasn't there) – and it shows, with all the great guitar lines on the record.

I better stop here, as I could go on. This is a rewarding and entertaining record that will honor the intelligence of any listener. There are simply not enough records of this type coming out nowadays.


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The Boris Flats
The Sunshine Imperative

(Boris-Tones)

theborisflats.co.uk

On their debut album, The Boris Flats showed off an impressive command of various pop styles, performed with a distinctly British flavor. Two years down the line, they throw even more styles into the stew and come up with a record that rewards the listener with ambitious pop tunes that are challenging and memorable. The Flats mix the classicism of artists like The Kinks and The Beatles with the willingness to think outside the box that makes artists like Pulp and Pet Shop Boys such a pleasure. The Flats clearly look at the British pop tradition in a broader manner than many acts.

So they can start off the album with the sweet and soulful "Gumball". This is a silky smooth ballad in the tradition of acts like The Beautiful South and The Christians, though neither of them would be as unabashedly romantic as the Flats are on this track: "Burt and Jimmy want in on everything I know/well they want it, I've got it, and I'm never letting go/it's you and me/you can only guess at what this means to me." The layered arrangement is full of acoustic guitars, synthesizers, lush backing vocals, horns, and, of course, a banjo.

This is logically (?) followed by the psychedelic title cut. Compared to the literally sun-kissed opening track, "The Sunshine Imperative (Down Is Up, Up Is Down and Down Is All Around)", is ominous both melodically and vocally. The music is well-matched to the lyric -- it is a plea for hope in a world where things often seem hopeless. The chorus sounds like a relative burst of optimism in contrast to the lurching repetitive tone of the verses. This is about as heavy as The Boris Flats get, and is to their credit that they can carry off something that cuts so strongly against their innate chirpiness.

The two aforementioned tracks seem a long way away from the band's foray into a hint of synth-pop and disco. "Geezerworld" rests on a combination of piano and a variety of percolating keyboards that burp, shimmer and buzz (though the clavinet just clavinets, because that's what a clavinet does). The song sounds like Colin (XTC) Moulding taking a stab at writing a Streets song, as the wispy melody is run through the exciting backing track. The vocals are even a bit processed on the verses, which describe a 30-ish geezer whose life is football, sneaking porn and generally being a ‘typical male', while the spiffy chorus is directed to his wife: "he swears to you that he has changed/but you've heard it all before/(right from the start)." This is a terrific track, and the band recognizes it, tacking an extended version to the end of the disc.

The acute observations of lead singer Van Norris-Jones (who, combined with Flats cohort Geoff Webb, play about 20,000 instruments or so, roughly) are equally well displayed on "The Jack & Danni Show", another piano dominated piece that is not quite XTC or Ben Folds, but isn't so far from either. Norris-Jones casts his eyes on the swinger scene, and accomplishes more than Stanley Kubrick did in the entirety of Eyes Wide Shut. The song takes a less than positive take on a hedonistic anything goes ("where you can do anything/and conversely anything can be done to you") lifestyle. Norris-Jones is analytical and takes a clear point of view, without resorting to a kneejerk moralistic perspective. Much like Blur's classic "Girls And Boys", the musical sophistication is perfectly tailored to the middle class decadence portrayed therein.

For all this cleverness -- the words, the dense arrangements, the juxtaposition of styles – the top song on the disc is a straightforward ballad. Sporting less specific lyrics, "Aquamarine" conveys plenty with its music. Played in a waltz tempo with a two degrees from "Dear Prudence" melody, the song is drenched in both melancholy and uncertainty. With a strong repeated middle eight, the song has goosebump inducing capability, as the song that seems miniature at the outset is actually much larger in stature.

Not every track on this disc works, but there are certainly enough strong ones to make this a fine addition to any British pop library. The Boris Flats are to be saluted for their attention to craftsmanship and the obvious effort to augment and ornament without burying the good songs underneath.

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