Scroll down for reviews of the latest from Vic Conrad, Will Hoge, Sondra Lerche, Feathergun, Righteous Boy, and Sukilove

Fountains Of Wayne
Welcome Interstate Managers

(S-Curve Records/Virgin)

Release Date: June 10, 2003

www.fountainsofwayne.com

Tuneful Chroniclers of the Disenfranchised Return

If you love great pop and enjoy a good story in the process, run right out and purchase a copy of Fountain of Wayne’s long-awaited third album. Welcome Interstate Managers is the welcome aural equivalent of a great collection of short stories, each song offering a little snippet from a life, and presenting a range of characters to fill this musical spectrum.

Perhaps this collection is a little more weighted toward the ballad end of things, but there is no drop in quality. If anything, FOW has managed to overcome the sort of emotional distance that critics cited in past works. Sure, there’s still the occasional wisecrack, but there’s also a newfound tenderness as well. Chris Collingwood and fellow FOWer Adam Schlessinger still have an uncanny ear for finding the subtle hooks that wend their ways into your subconscious, writing songs you’ll find yourself humming in the shower, or hearing upon awakening.

This time around the band numbers four, as Jody Porter (guitar, vocals) and Brian Young (drums, percussion) have become officially listed members. There is a variety of musical styles among these 16 tracks, and a good 55 minutes of fun listening.

The CD opens with “Mexican Wine,” a catchy song about drinking south-of-the-border wine and living with whatever comes your way. It makes a point of stressing horrible rhymes in its verses: “She lived alone in a small apartment / Across the street from the health department / She left her pills in the glove compartment / That was the afternoon her heart went.” Other verses involve a guy killed by a cellular phone explosion and a pilot forced to retire for reading High Times.

“Bright Future In Sales” would make a great upbeat single, were it not for the inclusion of a certain non-radio word in its chorus. Here is a guy who drinks too much and yet chides himself with concern for his corporate future: “I’m gonna get my shit together /
‘Cause I can’t live like this forever / You know I’ve come too far and I don’t want to fail / I got a new computer and a bright future in sales.”

The honor of the first single instead goes to “Stacy’s Mom,” the new summer anthem of milfdom. Arranged in The Cars’ fashion, it’s the story of a young man obsessed with the mother of a friend, who’s “got it going on.”

The beautiful “Hackensack” tells the story of a working class Joe longing unrealistically after a local who has gone on to fame and fortune, and willing to wait for her return: “I used to know you when we were young, you were in all my dreams / We sat together in period one Fridays at 8:15 / Now I see your face in the strangest places, movies and magazines / I saw you talkin’ to Christopher Walken on my TV screen / But I will wait for you as long as I need to /And if you ever get back to Hackensack, I’ll be here for you.”

Jen Trynin adds her vocals to the game on “No Better Place,” a guitar-laden tune of true regret about a friend leaving New York. Again alcohol is part of the proceedings, but the emotions are caught in the words so well: “The bourbon sits inside me and right now I’m a puppet in its sway / And it may be the whiskey talking, but the whiskey says I miss you everyday / So I taxi to an all-night party, park me in a corner in your old chair, sip my drink and stare out into space / Now you’re leaving New York, for no better place.”

“Valley Winter Song” is a tune about writing a song of solace for a friend who has just had too much New England Winter: “In late December, can drag a man down, you feel it deep in your gut / Short days and afternoons spent pottering around in a dark house with the windows painted shut / Remember New York and staring outside / as reckless winter made its way / From Staten Island to the upper West Side / whiting out our streets along the way.”

What makes Collingwood & Schlessinger so special is the way they can find new topics for songs (like getting a tattoo, attending a planetarium’s laser show, etc). In “All Kinds Of Time” we are shown the point-of-view of a quarterback and the thoughts going through his head before finding the open man and completing a pass. Former Smashing Pumpkin James Iha adds his guest guitar to this track.

The next two songs are variations on a theme, guys stuck in horrible dead-end jobs. In “Little Red Light” that guy also has the added misfortune of having been abandoned by his woman, and what’s more, his electronic equipment (sans red lights) seems to constantly remind him of this abandonment. So whether he’s stuck in traffic on the Tappan Zee bridge or just pondering simpler times (or drinking), he’s not a very happy camper.

The guy in “Hey Julie” also has a terrible job, but his woman is his salvation, his key to surviving it: “Working all day for a mean little guy / With a bad toupee and a soup-stained tie / He’s got me running around the office like a gerbil on a wheel / He can tell me what to do, but he can’t tell me what to feel / Hey Julie look what they’re doing to me / Trying to trip me up, trying to wear me down / Julie I swear it’s so hard to bear it / and I’d never make it through without you around.”

Halley’s comet comes every 76 years or so, comparable to the appearance of “Halley’s Waitress.” This slow ballad dramatizes the tragicomic agonies of waiting for that epitome of sluggish inattentive service, complete with horns, harmonies and wah-wah pedal.

Collingwood and Schlessinger are musical chameleons, able to change colors and fit in well in a number of styles. Witness the fine job they do with the legit country song “Hung Up On You,” featuring the expert pedal steel guitar strains of Robert Randolph.

There’s no tongue in cheek here, the lyrics fit the genre expertly: “And I can’t dial the phone just now, even though I know your number / I can’t bring my broken heart to be untrue / Like you did today you’ll say goodbye the same old way / Ever since you hung up on me, I’m hung up on you.”

“Fire Island” is an argument for greater responsibility from undeserving youth, chronicling poor behaviors while claiming they’re old enough to take care of each other without parental supervision. It’s a distant musical cousin to some Elton John songs (I hear bits of “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” and “Harmony”), and features a nice flugelhorn solo from Ronnie Buttacavoli.

With “Peace And Love,” Collingwood and Schlessinger revert to their old form of tongue-in-cheek attack. The subject here is the not-so-smart hippie who espouses peace and love, and you get all the stereotypical aspects - the VW van, the vegan restaurant, Vermont, etc. Sure he’s harmless and well intentioned, but you get the sense that FOW aren’t very enamored of this kind of overly simplistic jingoism.

Another critical stab is taken with the harder edged rocker “Bought For A Song.” This time it’s all about endless touring in a band “when you stump for the man.” It’s all another big drunken mess (“Excuse me, I’m weaving as fast as I can”) trying to get from city to city, and the message: “Before you get sold, you get bought for a song.”

“Supercollider” is FOW’s semi-psychedelic track while “Yours And Mine” is a one-minute story of a lovely shared Sunday morning.

Fountains Of Wayne have grown in the years since we last heard them on Utopia Parkway, and while there still remains a lot of NY/NJ Metro area references on Welcome Interstate Managers, this is a wider, more diverse offering from them. They show us that New Jersey is more than a state; it’s a state of mind. Here are the tales of winners in love and losers, dreamers and quarterbacks and waitresses, and a bunch of people that tend to drink excessively.

As always, the team of Collingwood and Schlessinger can craft perfect pop gems that crawl into your mind almost instantly. This CD has fast become a favorite around here, and certainly is one of the strongest releases of the year-to-date. I highly recommend it. Treat yourself to some interesting stories this summer -- get a copy of Welcome Interstate Managers, kick back and soak up the infectious pop music amusements.

Vic Conrad & the First Third
Vic Conrad & the First Third

(Hidden Agenda/Elephant 6)

U.S. Release Date: April 22, 2003

www.parasol.com

If you’re into the type of eclectic loose atmospheric psych-pop that characterizes the Elephant 6 collective, you’ll likely enjoy the highly varied and intriguing self-titled debut from Australian musicians Vic Conrad & the First Third. Conrad, former lead singer from Adelaide-based The Garden Path, has joined forces with Colin Gellard on bass and Craig Rodda on drums (along with Martin Butler and Mike Festa and others like Bevis Frond’s Nick Saloman) to create a quirky collection of a dozen mostly soft, mostly short songs in an unusual number of styles.

Not everything attempted here works, but the listener who invests time will find rewards within. Repeated listens show how carefully Conrad mixes tempos and song structures, while influences like Syd Barrett and The Beatles seem to inhabit many of the aural landscapes.

The brief opener “Everyone” displays Conrad’s plaintive tenor, with lyrics that reflect the simplicity of the song: “Everyone gets undone, I don’t know why / You and I get it right, don’t even try / I would confiscate your heart / Take it back to where we started.”

Beach Boy-type harmonies are called into play for “People Who Care” (supplied by the band Ice Cream Hands), a basically melodic pop piece about a tryst in the rain (“look into my heart because the house is in a mess”) and following that same lover to work, busily summoning the people who care.

The upbeat piano-based love ballad “See My Way” is as close as Conrad and comrades come to being commercial. Gellard has some beautiful bass lines, Ice Cream Hands again lends harmony support, and the overall sound recalls Epic Soundtracks.

“Pulse” is a short experimental chant set to a sort of heartbeat, minimalist and haunting and curiously Native American-sounding. Similarly, “The Day Before She Died” is a quiet dirge sans percussion that recalls traditional folk music.

The Beatle-esque “Emily & Liam” covers a wide expanse of musical terrain in its near four and a half minutes, going from a semi-traditional verse about drawing in a museum, then drifting away on the pedal steel work of Mike Festa before segueing into the beauty of the string accompaniment of The Martin Butler Evidence (violin, viola and cello). This instrumental portion is alluring and accomplished, holding one’s attention while luring one into a near-trance state.

“Magneto” is another odd-song out here, a short simple electric piano refrain repeated over and over again behind cryptic lyrics about wanting to do things and getting what one deserves (e.g. “a rollercoaster running with a frozen plow). “Mr. V” is like mid-era-Kinks, with a strong psychedelic flavor (again, another short one). “Hideaway” is a moody slower song, with some nice opening oboe by Bruce Stewart. “I Love You” seems a sort of half-psychedelic experiment, a song evolving as it goes into something more formidable.

The longest song, “DNA for Alice,” is the sort of ongoing psychedelic noodling you get from many of the other Elephant 6 collective. Unfortunately, the length seems somewhat unwarranted given the relative sameness of what’s happening musically (though if you’re meditating, you can get nearly 8 minutes of zen-like trance out of it).

“Enough of This” is a sweet little countrified gem that closes the CD, again featuring the weepy pedal steel work of Mike Festa, accompanying Conrad’s lyrics of frustrated wishes and hopes from one spurned.

All told, this is an impressive but uneven debut. Vic Conrad & the First Third do present a diverse range of sounds, but perhaps need to focus more going forward, deciding exactly where they’d like to be on the musical spectrum, honing in and mastering that chosen sound. There is plenty of quirky and playful promise here, and I’d wager talent enough to deliver on it sometime in the near future.

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Will Hoge
Blackbird On A Lonely Wire

(Atlantic Records)

U.S. Release Date: March 4, 2003

www.willhoge.com

If you believe the persona in the songs, he’s not that cool and prone to loneliness and broken hearts. But in truth, once you hear that voice you’ll know otherwise. This is the kind of strong roots rocker you’ve been hoping was still out there somewhere. Hoge is the real deal - a talent that delivers even more live than in the studio - and one that should have a long flourishing career if there’s any sort of cosmic justice.

While 2001’s Carousel was a fun rowdy musical romp that impressed many (particularly with the hot guitar playing of then lead man Dan Baird), this sophomore effort is a major-label deal. Hoge continues to surrounds himself with fine musicians in Brian Layson (lead guitar, background vox), John Lancester (keyboards, background vocals), Tres Sasser (bass, background vox) and Kirk Yoquelet (drums), then leaves it to guitarist/producer John Shanks (BBMak, The Corrs, Chris Isaak, Sheryl Crow, Joe Cocker) to put that production right up front and in your face (as it should be). Having Chris Lord-Alge mix five of the tracks is another plus.

Blackbird On A Lonely Wire is good old-fashioned rock with a soulsy, bluesy edge to it. Hoge has a voice that commandeers attention, and as such draws you in to his songs, stories largely about love and loss. Hoge knows you can sing about love without being wimpy. Modeling himself after singer/songwriters like Tom Petty or Bruce Springsteen, he aims to tell great stories through having a phenomenal band.

After dropping out of Western Kentucky University, Hoge returned home to Nashville committed to playing music. He and the band play some 250 live shows annually, and the groundswell of fans that have connected with the music is impressive. Listening to the music, two things become apparent: 1) the band seems to be having a great time playing and 2) Hoge puts honesty behind the songs, making you believe every moment along the way.

“Not That Cool” is about a lonely guy in a bar who wishes he were as suave as James Dean, looking for the courage to deliver the right lines, and determined not to be alone for the night.

“Be The One” is the first single, a cautious tale of a misguided young woman eager to do just about anything to become something to someone else. Hoge delivers the bad news against an infectious riff and melody: “Everybody wants to be a star in somebody’s dream / But you can’t get there darling down upon your knees.”

“King of Grey” is a piano-based ballad of loneliness that stretches across all seasons, a melancholy yet soulful tune of hoping for eventual release from this pain of heartache.
“Secondhand Heart” is about the lack of sympathy and inequity of loving more than you get in return. Hoge’s lyrics capture the pain of that void: “Filling pages with the same old secrets I still want just you / Blackbird on a lonely wire do you ever think about me too / I want something that I can hold onto I don’t care if it’s wrong or right / Sex and God and lust and I just hope that maybe I can get this right.”

In “Hey Tonight” we get a guy who has yet to accept the end of a relationship, and comes close to stalking his ex- in hopes that she will say she still loves him the way she always did before. You really feel the pain in Hoge’s delivery - you buy it completely: “Hey tonight say the fire is still burning / And in the morning pretend we don’t see the ashes on the floor.” “It’s A Shame” covers similar territory, but this guy has somewhat accepted his relationship’s end. Still, he considers it a shame and spends a lot of time thinking about her and how she’s faring now.

Further along is the realistic narrator of “Someone Else’s Baby,” a guy coming to grips with the fact that his old love now is someone else’s, wondering if she still leaves her clothes piled on the floor, etc…in short, torturing himself.

Classic soul-searching vocals (say Tom Petty meets Bruce Springsteen meets Lowell George) are the underpinning beneath “Doesn’t Have To Be That Way.” This is the kind of song that would have been a radio single a few decades back -- nice guitar, and a most emotive vocal delivery, declaring against the fates as they are, bemoaning the troubles.

“TV Set” kicks up the guitars a notch, a fun if lightweight rocker of a song exploring the role-play guise of TV repairman. Those who have any doubt that Hoge and his band can rock out should give a listen to “All Night Long.” This throwaway rocker is about Katie, a rebel-rocking girl eager to defy parents and teachers and stay out till morning.

Perhaps the quintessential Hoge song is “Better Off Now (That You’re Gone),” featuring wonderfully tight musical execution of a nice melody, and coming in just under three minutes. This is rationalization of the highest order, a guy convincing himself he’s moved beyond a failed relationship, all the while deploring the type of treatment he had put up with previously.

The prettiest song here is the closer, the soft “Baby Girl.” Michelle Branch lends some harmonies to this sweet bunch of wishes and advice from father to baby daughter (“Be strong in this great big world”).

There’s no filler on Blackbird On A Lonely Wire just lots of big musical heartache presented in a most convincing manner. There’s joy in this earnest misery - and when you hear it, you’ll smile. Hoge and his band seem to have found the right combination of muscular soul and roots rock that gives them a somewhat harder edge than say, Counting Crows…now if only they can find the wide-scale audience that used to be there for this kind of true American rock and roll. The talent is there, but that’s never a guarantee. I, for one, will keep my fingers crossed.

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Sondre Lerche
Faces Down

(Astralwerks)

U.S. Release Date: September 17, 2002

www.sondrelerche.com

By now, you’ve probably heard some of the spin surrounding the Norwegian wunderkind Sondre Lerche Vaular. Let me recap it in a nutshell - boy is weaned on the 1980s pop played by his three older siblings (including a particular fascination for local sensations A-ha), learns to play guitar at age 9, starts writing songs at 14, meets up with Norwegian producer H.P. Gundersen (who basically takes him under his wing and exposes him to whole new musical universes), and by age 16 writes what has become Faces Down, his stellar debut album.

The CD was first released in Norway in 2000, in Europe in 2001, and finally came to the U.S. courtesy of Astralwerks in the fall of 2002. By now the boy wonder is 20 and touring the states currently (though he still looks younger than that) - but anyway you approach his story, there’s no denying his ability to write impressive music far beyond his years.

With a voice that sounds at times like Donovan Leitch, at other times like Rufus Wainwright light (Broadway, but less drama and turbulence), Sondre Lerche goes against the grain of what might be deemed commercial music for those of his generation. Listen to this CD and you hear a range of music that draws on whisper pop of the early 1960s, Burt Bacharach, Van Dyke Parks, Brazilian pop and even some Tin Pan Alley. There are strings and theremin and female accompaniment and a number of unexpected elements throughout. Even the alternately happy and melancholy lyrics are somewhat accomplished and obscure. All told, this is not your normal 16-year old.

The CD opens with the semi-bossa nova retro rhythms of the arresting mood piece “Dead Passengers,” a strange consolation about solace in a time of greed and fear coming from dead passengers who will come to your home and guide you. There is plenty of eerie synth programming (courtesy of H.P. Gundersen) and sweet backing vocals from Leslie Ahern.

The masterpiece of this near hour’s worth of music is the instant classic “You Know So Well.” Sondre’s voice is delicate and unpredictable, enveloped by strings and musing on the foibles of chance and opportunity in a relationship that has yet to happen, in a race against time. This is a beautiful song, and its beauty becomes even more apparent with repeated listening.

Percussive chords drive the rhythms of the simpler arrangement that is “Sleep On Needles.” This is a dialogue about speaking the truth and not holding back. There’s a certain irony when one considers how young he was when he wrote: “I’m coming down to tell you what I know / To say what’s real, to let you know / Where I have been and how I had to sleep on needles / you’ll believe you are hard / sleep on needles / and hear only the truth.”

“Suffused With Love” examines the hit-and-run running around of the social scene in a song long on lyrics. This is another simple arrangement of vocals, guitar and synth. The lumbering and ponderous “Side Two” is a cryptic bare-bones song about those who lived through execution, collecting votes (?), “about the tortured young and old.”

Thankfully this leads into the bright strains of the bouncy Cole Porter-ish “Modern Nature.” Again, Sondre’s lyrics are about truth and relationships and taking a wait-and-see attitude in determining what’s “meant to be.” This vocal duet with Lillian Samdal also recalls the like of Elvis Costello’s “The Milk of Human Kindness.”

It’s a trip through time on this CD from track to track. With “Virtue and Wine” we’re back in the 1960s, bossa nova-land and a tip of the hat to more than a few others along the way. This is a song about chemistry, the frustrations of daily life and the pain of being left in a relationship (“I am nothing without you”).

Building from a soft guitar ballad into something far more interesting with Lillian Samdal’s backing vocals and superb production, “On And Off Again” lets Sondre explore his lower vocal register as he contemplates much of the same life/relationship ground as in other songs (but hey, he was only 16 when writing this): “Nothing stays the same / I stand in my own way.”

The only real interest in “No One’s Gonna Come” comes with its relatively frenetic chorus, rhythm-wise, and the unusual backing vocals by Helen Eriksen. “All Luck Ran Out” takes many of these same elements and more (even some pedal steel) and puts them together far better. It’s a more traditional song, catchier, a sideways commentary on the wrongs of thievery, and probably as close to commercial as Sondre gets.

“Things You Call Fate” starts as a prime example of how Sondre Lerche might sound in concert - it’s just simple guitar and vocals, unadorned. However, an electronic synth hook that leaps out and grabs you by the ears twice interrupts this pleasant folky but wordy treatise. Note that the fadeout takes just shy of forever (the song clocks in at 9:25). A strange but interesting add-on solo track called “Rosebud” is included in the U.S. version of the CD.

Faces Down is a clever and impressive debut from this young native of Bergen, Norway, who had a lot of expert help from the likes of H.P. Gundersen and the High Llamas’ Sean O’Hagan (who arranged the strings for three of the tracks). Gundersen and Joergen Traeen surround the lad with a host of accomplished musicians playing lush and intriguing arrangements.

At twenty, Lerche is a cool customer who takes his music seriously, but also is having fun touring. He’s keen to find new ways to write songs, and to keep the passionate process of songwriting interesting. Judging from this first release, there should be a long career of melodic, interesting music ahead.

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Feathergun
Music To Wash To

(Soundwidth Records)

U.S. Release Date: March 15, 2003

www.feathergun.com

It’s a big bad dirty world. Luckily, the Los-Angeles based Feathergun has done something about it, and also designated a time for people to enjoy hearing their debut CD. Music To Wash To is the perfect accompaniment to a long hot shower, but the good news is that it’s a fun listen any time, washing or not.

Feathergun is the creative stepchild of Chicago’s Sam Lewis. He moved to Los Angeles and recruited long time friend and bassist Jesse McCabe (who co-wrote many of the song’s lyrics), as well as drummer Garrett Smith.

This trio plays true rock and roll with energy and gumption, while not always taking the world so seriously. The sound often is retro, and recalls the sounds of Lenny Kravitz, as well as a number of others. Feathergun categorizes its own music as “cubicle rock,” that is, the music inspired by or written about endless hours spent in a small partitioned space. All three members know this corporate world well.

McCabe is a computer programmer in El Segundo, where the servers require his cubicle environments to be as cold as the arctic. Smith has a cubicle in the headquarters of Office Depot, and Lewis has worked in tech support, project management and most recently, as a manager at an ISP. When it comes to cubicles and the frustrations that can arise from them, these three know their stuff.

Lyrics from the infectious anthem “Freeway” capture that empty feeling: “9 a.m. you open the door / down a drink you bought at the store / settle in your cubicle hell, I don’t wanna stay / So I will live for the day, wasted away / stare into space.”

“Disillusion” opens the CD in classic rock mode, guitars churning out a hard riff that could have been from decades ago, telling the story of some performer whose magic is now dated (and featuring a great guest guitar solo from Allen Moreno).

Things get a little more funkified with “Major Mood,” where the word phrases are secondary to the overall musical atmosphere. This is one just to groove to, with impressive work from Smith and McCabe.

“Lover” is another pleasantly infectious little love song. “Living Without” is a more serious love ballad (from Sam Lewis to his girlfriend Jaime), discussing love from afar finally making its approach. There also is a hidden track included, “Never Meant To Be,” about going one’s separate ways.

What Feathergun excels in is fun. “Saw Your Thong” is a musical examination of the thrill of the minimal undergarment espied. “No Memory” is a catchy little ditty (with nice harmonies) to the wasted generation, offering music as alternative panacea to dealing with it all. “Butterball Baby” is a song that one only wishes Elvis was still around to sing, with its blatant food imagery (Feathergun have even dressed up as turkeys while performing it).

“Glaucoma” describes the truly sorry state of one who has been left by another (you don’t know whether to laugh or cry): “Left me a note in cream cheese / saying you found something else / drowning my pain in Kimchee / clearing my thoughts with a smell.”

Easily the most poignant song here is “Feathergun,” which manages to marry funk and hard guitars and tough feelings after a loss (dedicated to the memory of Sam Lewis’ father).

In the end, Feathergun seek to entertain through classic melodic rock. Music To Wash To does entertain, and then some. Lewis and company give you songs that stand up to repeated listens with the kind of real tight guitar/rock sounds not often heard these days (and perfect for summer). I’m eager to hear how their sounds will develop over time, and to see if cubicle rock can succeed to the point where they can leave all traces of the corporate world behind. As a former cubicle denizen myself, I really hope so.

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Righteous Boy
I Sing Because Of You

(Future Farmer Recordings)

Release Date: May 20, 2003

www.righteousboy.com

The Cardigans have been in creative limbo since 1998’s Gran Turismo, but not so its individual members. Following on the heels of projects by guitarist Peter Svensson and singer Nina Persson comes this solo effort by bassist Magnus Sveningsson, who is Righteous Boy.

These dozen low-key songs are mostly dark, emotionally wrought and intensely personal, chamber pop laden with Euro-lounge synths and then some. Sveningsson’s voice often is a low rasp, a type of tuneful whisper that lulls you into paying attention, speak-singing confessions and observations.

Burnt out by touring and going through a difficult time, Sveningsson began working on these songs at Malmo’s Tambourine studios when it was free from bookings, enlisting help from many of Magnus’ circle of musician friends. He hadn’t written songs in years, and never before attempted singing solo.

The results are moody, but not without charm, the kind of record that makes for great listening on a rainy afternoon. Helping out is Jens Jansson on drums (Brainpool), Nathan Larson on programming and some synthesizer and backing vocals (Shudder to Think), Patrik Bartosch on keyboards (Eggstone) and Henrik Andersson on a number of instruments (Ray Wonder).

I Sing Because of You is chock full of reflections and accusations, assuming blame and then claiming blamelessness, a confusing jumble of mixed emotions. It is like having someone’s personal diary set to music following a very painful relationship’s end. The lounge-y single “Loved Among Friends” takes heart in the knowledge that friends see the good in him that he is blind to on his own. “View From A Satellite” is a slow and trancelike musical haze, a confession of doing wrong mixed with an appreciation of a helpful friend.

The similarly slow-paced “No More Love” is a search for what is lost, a hanger’s on wish to turn back time to undo errors made in a relationship. “Righteous Boy / Righteous Girl” examines another failed relationship, with the girl ending everything.

There’s lots of soul in the minimalist “I Made It Hard For You To Love Me.” This is the rawest of personal confessions laid bare in song, painful in its honest struggle to try and figure what happened. “All My Evils” continues this personal obsessing; Sveningsson now is beyond compassion, reduced to acting like a rock, eager to have his evils gone. “I’m Not Shielded” tells us this: she moved on and he hasn’t. “Elephant Man” continues this melodrama - he revels in his self-pity, sees himself as a freak on display.

This loner’s self-alienation is echoed in “I Feel Apart”: “I feel apart / but I try and I try for you / What a large defeat / when I’m measured there beside you / Such indifference/ aren’t we treasured there inside you.”

In an interesting musical transposition, Sveningsson takes the relatively upbeat “Loved Among Friends” into a slowed down and somber “Lone Among Friends.” This is a further trip down into depression and feeling alone, a low point that has “never happened before.”

However, by “Straight Song” he is at a crossroads, pondering whether time will help heal his wounds: “There’s an ocean between what you perceive and how I feel / I reason differently / But if you could see me through and if I let you to / I got lots of lots of love for you / Equal blessing, equal curse / Will I grow from here or to the worse.”

By CD’s end, Sveningsson is ready to advise others not to make the same mistakes he has made. In the soulful “You Better Do Good,” he warns that only good will lead to having someone to hold, asks others to “better do good before you’re bitter and alone.”

Throughout, small elements add charm to these otherwise downtrodden songs, Wurlitzers, synths, loops, trumpets, and the trippy female backing vocals so popular in Europe. These varied elements are mixed well by Michael Ilbert.

If sad heartbroken musings of achingly honest pain set to chamber pop music is your thing, Righteous Boy is manna from heaven. This mellow collection has delicious moments that elevate it above mere moping; it’s great for that rainy day. I Sing Because Of You lets us know that not only was Magnus Sveningsson hurt, but that he also has the talent to turn it into likeable fare.

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Sukilove
Sukilove

(Hidden Agenda/Parasol)

U.S. Release Date: May 13, 2003

www.parasol.com

Following the pleasant surprise of the Talking In The Dark debut EP release in 2002, I eagerly awaited the release of Sukilove’s first full-length album. Belgium’s Pascal Deweze showed me charm and smarts and amiable folksy pop that time around; the good news is he’s only gotten smarter and more charming in the interim. Given the forum of a full CD, he goes against the grain of the commercial marketplace and instead serves up a baker’s dozen worth of unique mature and melodic songs that largely take their sweet time expressing their subtle nuances.

Sukilove is Pascal Deweze (that same one who is half of the Chitlin’ Fooks), along with Stoffel Verlackt (drums, percussion, vocals, piano, horn arrangements), Pieter Van Buyten (bass) and Helder Deploige (electric guitars, vocals). The talented Deweze sings and plays a number of instruments as well (acoustic and electric guitar, piano, bass, accordion, organ and percussion).

The album opens (ironically) with a poignant track entitled “Time To Go,” all about those restless urges that send one out the door and on one’s way, half wanderlust, half simply knowing things have run their course and it’s time: “And in the end, what else does remain but saying: goodbye, God bless / And whatever you do, do it well and who knows someday / it’s time to say hello, again.”

Next up is the ballad “Hang On,” a lovely bit of optimistic advice to a friend who’s not on such sure footing: “Now the earth’s rotating backwards and your shoes don’t fit your soul / We all stumble in our darkness ‘cos somehow the light never came through - but if you could turn them on, oh - you’d find me stumbling next to you…hang on.” It builds to a crescendo of noise (a la “A Day In The Life”) to reflect the craziness and fears, then ends softly, if not overly happily (“No one’s gonna hold you when you’re all gone”).

“Shame You Never Worry” is Deweze’s ultra-cool anthem that invokes film noir imagery and sounds like a distant cousin to some Tom Waits composition circa Rain Dogs. This is masterful, sleazy (in the best possible way) and again, savvy and clever: “I'm gonna love you 'til you lose the flavor / so never think I really care / Skyscrapers scrape for a reason, call on me I'll be there.” Deweze mixes it up perfectly near the song’s end with some countering musical phrases.

Sukilove is heavy on atmosphere and again, I got a strong film noir feel as Deweze croons his way through the confessional love ballad “Unforgivable.” “Please Don’t Ever Change” is another sweet and soulful slow-tempo melody, made even better by more clever lyrics.

Sukilove never runs short of pretty melodies. “Computing Beauty” is a fine example of this - a loving tale of one who finds the most beautiful, sweetest girl, yet she remains sadly out of reach. “Just A Lazy Day” is merely that: a short sweet acoustic bit about doing absolutely nothing.

One of my favorites on this new collection (hard for me to pick just one) is the majestic “As Long As I Survive Tonight.” This well-arranged tune lists in its verses all the problems that beset the singer…yet ultimately, we’re told all’s “gonna be alright.” This heartening assurance chorus (even if it’s only an empty promise) really balances everything else. Deweze again manages to make pretty music that has weight to it.

Reprised from last year’s EP is the great “Talking In The Dark,” which escalates from simple folk confession into full-bodied pop complete with string accompaniment. As I said before, this is love music with a smirk on its face, cryptic and charming all at once.

There are musical nuances throughout, expert little snippets of instruments and sounds that adorn the simplest songs and lend them additional grace and elegance. Some of these seem like little symphonies - songs with complex structures and intriguing builds and middle sections.

For example, the longest song is the one with the shortest lyric, asking that musical question “Did Your Ever Feel So Lonely?” The question is repeated again and again, rhetorically, no need for an answer, then the music takes over into a structured chaos before the quiet question returns.

On several songs, Deweze’s tenor sounds a lot like Glenn Tilbrook’s. This is especially so on the bluesy “Man (ain’t man enough),” which could fit comfortably on any latter Squeeze album.

The blues feel continues with “There’s A Light,” a slow doleful unfolding revelation about missing a certain woman: “It’s not the coming home I miss the most / it’s the everyday, simple things you do / Because my thoughtlessness never killed no man / but I’m not so sure about you.”

This fine collection closes with “Good Blood Will Prevail,” a short acoustic bittersweet song (Deweze’s own “Goodbye Norma Jean”) about death and leaving and advising the young to grab their fun while they can.

While these songs are slow-paced and smart (and decidedly non-commercial as a result), they are well worth your while. Deweze has a knack for pretty melodies (like McCartney) and can write stunning lyric lines that really touch both heart and mind. Sukilove manages the feat of approaching the same old topics from new and interesting angles, and pulls off the even tougher task of taking sadness and making it optimistic and somehow uplifting. This isn’t easy music, but it’s easily some of the finest new songcraft to be found. Take the time to discover the subtle pleasures of Sukilove and you’ll be glad you did.

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