Gary Glauber
Reviews: August, 2004

They Might Be Giants
The Spine

(Zoe)

Release Date: July 13, 2004

www.tmbg.com

Fans of They Might Be Giants have long been awaiting this latest studio effort from Linnell and Flansburgh and company (it has been three years since Mink Car) - and while The Spine delivers sixteen new songs, the running time for the album is a disappointing mere 36 minutes. Those eager to claim quality over quantity can find some delightful moments here - but overall, it's a mixed bag - not TMBG's best effort, yet certainly good enough to keep their loyal fan base relatively happy.

Producer/engineer Pat Dillett (who first worked with the two Johns on 1990's Flood) is back to lend a hand. The band is tighter than ever, the songs clever as always, yet more and more songs seem to reference aspects of the back catalog inadvertently (perhaps this is inevitable after a band makes a certain number of albums). Ultimately, it doesn't detract from the finished product - there are plenty of different musical techniques and styles employed here as well.

The CD opens with "Experimental Film," a song already animated by the creative team at Homestarrunner.com. It's typically wonderful TMBG fare, harmonies, a key shift in the middle bridge, and lyrics that explore "the color of infinity inside an empty glass," faces imploding and more. The basic gist: even though he can't explain it, he already knows how great this experimental film is.

A mere half minute of song, "Spine" is a pleasant little fingertip of a song, told from the viewpoint of a spine: "I've been dragging my feet across my back and I've been running my head against my neck."

Fresh off their recent EP Indestructible Object, "Memo To Human Resources" is short but sweet, taking the Johns into Fountains of Wayne territory (much like "Another First Kiss"). Lyrically, there are some wonderful turns: "I'll be in the back and I don't need the help / I'm good here in the back, I'm good all by myself / I'm busy taking stock of all the things that I forgot / and making mental notes of just exactly where I lost the plot / I stuck around too long feeling sorry for myself / A disinvited guest rifles through the bathroom shelf / I'm searching for some disbelief that I can still suspend / but nevermind the furthermore, the plea is self-defense again."

You can count on TMBG to offer a few decidedly strange lyrics, and the cryptic "Wearing A Raincoat" doesn't disappoint. Like some strange bad acid trip, the lyrics follow some odd logic in a strange run-on sentence (e.g. "wearing a raincoat is flying around in the plane made of a raincoat but when you think of that you hurt your mind and you'll need a friend to talk you down."). From this, it goes to food, then drugs, then sleep, with the wonderful declaration that "sleeping is a gateway drug to being awake."

Flansburgh serves up some infectious lounge rock with "Prevenge," a bouncy ode to pre-meditated revenge.

Linnell often makes me chuckle with his unpredictable song topics and lyrics. Here he obviously accepts the irresistible challenge to write a song around the line "We'll have fun, fun, fun, until T-bird takes her dad away." So what we get here is a charming little song about cheap liquor, as he remembers now why they call it "Thunderbird."

Fans of Mink Car's "Man It's So Loud In Here" and its effective use of vocoder effects will dig the new "Bastard Wants To Hit Me." I like this a lot, it's melodic with a lovely piano line and guaranteed to make you smile with panicked lyrics like: "He says he knows me / but I don't know that guy / he's waving at me, but he looks kind of mad / some crazy bastard wants to hit me / he's waving me over so he can hit me / but I don't know that guy and I'm not going over there."

"The World Before Later On" is short and show tune-like, expressing nostalgia for the promised futuristic things that have yet to come to pass.

A great waltz of a tune that has been around for a while (played often at live shows) finally makes it onto disc as "Museum of Idiots." There's some wonderfully crisp horn arrangements here that elevate the lyrical silliness to high art, making statements like "they built this whole neighborhood out of wood / I guess I'll still be around when they burn it down" seem grandiose.

Starting off with a percussion intro that recalls "Wicked Little Critta," "It's Kickin' In" turns into a bopping piece of semi-pychedelic bubblegum art-rock. Flansburgh has a real flair for writing catchy little retro pastiches.

"Spines" is a half minute of pseudo disco soul (another fingertip) that comes and goes all too quickly.

Another one off the recent EP, "Au Contraire" is more amusing TMBG fare. Catchy music, nifty flute solo and Linnell lyrics that take historical liberties while making little sense: "Franklin Delano Roosevelt knew not what to do / This tie clashes with my hat, he cried, don't you think that's true? / Au contraire, Delano / Hate to rain on your parade /As it happens, au contraire / Au contraire, mon frere". The third verse involves a poker game between Jodie Foster, Bach, and Mahatma Gandhi. What's not to like?

"Damn Good Times" is Flansburgh rocking out in a sort of punk/new wave way, discussing "a natural dancer." It's good upbeat fun - and for a change, Flans gets to show-off some guitar chops.

TMBG often manages to find little hooks, riffs that stick in your mind whether you want them there or not. There's one of those infiltrating riffs throughout "Broke In Two," a song that reminds me some of "Spiralling Shape" off of Factory Showroom.

"Stalk of Wheat" is TMBG bemoaning a dearth of ideas in a sort of oompah-Western swing style. It's cute and strange and short and amusing - in other words, typical TMBG. One hopes it's all in jest when Linnell sings: "I was all out of luck like a duck that died / I was all out of juice like a moose denied / I was all out of money like a bunny that's broke / I was all out of work like a jerk who's a joke / I was out of ideas like I is."

Flansburgh makes the final contribution here with his sweet tropical flavored ballad and Dial-A-Song standard "I Can't Hide From My Mind." This is probably as close to a "normal" song as one can expect from TMBG, though the lyrics deal with a siege of one's self, where the final pleading begs "Don't make me come in and get me."

The Spine divides things fairly evenly between the two Johns, and offers a number of brief highlights that leave one wishing the songs had been further developed. Still, the album offers enough highlights and quirkiness to please even the grumpiest TMBG fan. Short and sweet, The Spine whets our appetite for what comes next - one hopes it won't be three more years until we find out.

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Glenn Tilbrook
Transatlantic Ping Pong

(Compass)

Release Date: June 8, 2004

www.glenntilbrook.com

Glenn Tilbrook, talented guitarist, singer and co-songwriter of Squeeze has spent the past three years ping-ponging back and forth between the U.S. and Europe, self-touring in a 1987 Cruisemaster RV. Those lucky enough to have seen him live know he is amiable, hard working, and always eager to please demanding audiences. His personal comments and parking lot sing-a-longs have endeared him to many.

Thankfully, he's squeezed in time while on the road to record enough songs for a very pleasant second solo CD, the appropriately named Transatlantic Ping Pong. Tilbrook has grown more familiar with the task of solo songwriting (and collaborating with folks other than Chris Difford), and this disc reflects that comfort, as well as Tilbrook's personality, his musical tastes and sense of lyrical fun.

Those who enjoyed 2001's The Incomplete Glenn Tilbrook will treasure this second collection even more. It's not a Squeeze album, although certain songs would fit comfortably into that canon. There are two Tilbrooks at work here - the serious guy who makes poignant observations about relationships as he heads into middle age and the goofy alter ego happily stuck inside arrested adolescence - and both are welcome.

The CD opens with the very catchy "Untouchable," (co-written with Chris Braide) a melodic ultimatum of an anthem presented to a woman given to ranting and raving without being truthful or trustful. Tilbrook is the confounded one asking to be confided in: "Heaven knows you've got to open up somehow / I can take it on the chin / There's nothing I can do if you won't let it out / And you won't let me in."

He switches to pseudo-funk with "Lost In Space," observations on a fickle friend, "out of sorts and lost in space." Stephen Large does some nice work on electric piano and organ, complementing Tilbrook's guitar finesse. The song also features some wonderful harmony vocals from Andrea Britton.

While a fortune has been made on the Mars/Venus comparisons, Tilbrook ventures further out in the solar system for his relationship metaphors with "Neptune": "Oh! where are you coming from now? / Uranus and I'm here in Neptune." Louis Tilbrook adds great harmonies and Mike Webb lends organ to this infectious tune.

Those familiar with the latter days of Squeeze know Tilbrook's penchant for the country sound (and I learned in an earlier interview how he'd love to sing with Willie Nelson someday). Some of that country sound is captured here.

"Hostage" is a great song with weepy pedal steel accents courtesy of Lee Warren. With lyrics like something off Sweets From A Stranger, Tilbrook sharply observes an ex-girlfriend, grown into a woman trapped inside a bad marriage. The lyrics say it all: "Dinner at your house / You have a weary look on your face / As if you've ended up in the wrong place / Happy? You say so / I would guess not though / It gives no pleasure to see / You look just like a hostage to me."

That same pedal steel sets the tone in "Domestic Distortion." Here's a marvelously poignant portrayal of a man coming to terms with his estranged adult daughter, confessing his past sins honestly, but knowing that won't guarantee a better future.

However, the most purely country song here is Tilbrook's classic cover "The Genitalia Of A Fool." With Kim Davis playing Emmylou to Glenn's Gram, and Bill Davis on guitar, the song charmingly relates the tale of a man who accidentally exposes himself to his love's whole family ("didn't mean to scare the children or make your grandma drool"). Tilbrook has a great sense of humor, and he's found a cover that conveys it well.

It's the goofy Tilbrook again on display with the fun romp "Hot Shaved Asian Teens." Co-written with Steve Poltz, the song reflects the way society's evils have become all too much with lyrics that capture the insanity (and name-check producer Mitchell Froom).

One of the prettiest songs here is the ode to an old friendship "Ray & Me." Co-written with Chris Braide, the lyrics capture the reminiscences: "The dusk unwound into darkness & we sat outside and dreamt / In big theatrical whispers what we thought that it all meant / We talked about the future, how growing up would be / We were doubled up in laughter imagining ourselves / Ray & Me."

The arrested adolescent is back in charge with "Reinventing The Wheel," a pleasant ode to onanism (co-written with Ben Jones and featuring nice Nick Harper harmonies).

There is one song here notable mostly for the reconciliation behind it. "Where I Can Be Your Friend" is the first Difford/Tilbrook song in several years, a song about resolution and reconciliation, setting the healing process in motion: "If I own my past / as I think I do, I'll take this moment / to explain it now / And repair the heart that I must have broken." It's not the best song here, and seems to lack the energy of some of the other collaborations - still, it's good they can write as a team again.

Sometimes music in a song runs contrary to the thoughts conveyed by the lyrics. "There For Her" (co-written with George Hartner) is one of those contrary tracks. The music seems somewhat upbeat, whereas the subject matter is dreadfully serious - a woman beset with AIDS, deserted by her husband, having no one to care for her and saddled with more than she can handle.

The CD closes with the surf-rock instrumental "One For The Road," where Tilbrook and Bill Davis trade some fun guitar licks (Tilbrook is a vastly under-rated guitarist) and leave the audience dancing into the sunset.

While the songs were recorded either in Nashville (with musicians like Mike Webb, Bill Davis, Lee Warren, Bill Lloyd, Kyle Melancon) or in Cambridgeshire (with musicians like Nick Harper, Lucy Shaw, Simon Hanson and Stephen Large), they fit together seamlessly.

Transatlantic Ping Pong finds Tilbrook in a comfortable place, reveling in the kind of music he enjoys. He remains as talented as ever, and whether it's the serious guy or the raucously goofy one singing, the great recognizable tenor is there along with the expert songcraft, all musical details fully attended to and accounted for.

When a nice guy releases a solidly good album, you hope the public responds in kind. Fans of Squeeze and beyond will enjoy Transatlantic Ping Pong wholeheartedly.

And do try to catch Glenn Tilbrook live if you get the chance (yes, he's on the road again with his new backing band The Fluffers) - you won't be disappointed.

Digby
Falling Up

(Toucan Cove / Label X / Madacy)

Release Date: June 1, 2004

www.godigby.com

As a fan of Cotton Mather, rumors of the band's demise were upsetting - I thought it would be a while before I'd hear that winning Robert Harrison voice singing anything new. But then I discovered the Louisville-based quintet Digby and their impressive Falling Up, and while the sensibility differs some, I realized I'd found the rightful heir to that musical legacy.

For one, lead singer Paul Moeller is a virtual vocal doppelganger for Harrison. He's joined by a quartet of others, Mark Book on drums, Rich Oeffinger on lead guitar, Ben Schneider on bass and John Shiner on keyboards. These five produce smart pop music that commands your attention and holds it effortlessly from track to track. There's a slight southern influence beneath the alternative rock pinnings, and an overall sense of actual fun. If you go to their website and read the individual bios (written by other band members), you'll get a sense of the wise-cracking intelligence at play here. The fact that Digby manage to turn it into good music is only a plus.

On this, their official national debut (containing five new songs and a number of tunes from their earlier release entitled Go Digby), the band serves up a dozen winning tracks courtesy of Todd Smith (Smash Mouth, Days of the New), who keeps the production clean and captures that sense of fun well. Here are five guys who enjoy what they do and know they do it well - reviving that Brit-pop guitar and keyboard driven sound of long ago with well-written songs.

The CD leads with the uber-catchy "Minerva," a sweetheart's censure post-relationship, told by one who once "was the bread" and now is "the crumbs." There's plenty of examination at work, wondering if it was good: "Every time you cry I stick around for more / it's not a game, but you're still keeping score / I try to walk away, but you just sold my shoes / For a burnt out commitment and an empty excuse / and you've got the nerve Minerva / to lick up the leftovers." It's a winning hook-laden song, and one that sticks with you long after the chiming guitars and harmonies end.

Self-confession continues with "If You Only Knew," an upbeat jaunt about living a lie, and running the risk of actually having it turn into something true. The clever confession here is that he's only been faking it the whole way through: "We had a conversation / I pretended you weren't there / You expressed your intent / and I pretended not to care / Now we're slowing to a grinding halt / I can't help but notice everything's my fault."

The first single off the record is the superb "Too Late." Here, Digby employs musical hooks a-plenty: a start-stop effect, great guitars, Cars-like keyboards, and a solid bottom of drums and bass. This is a justification for arrested adolescence, stating that further analysis is pointless, that it's too late to change being "forever a child": "If I could turn it off / I wouldn't turn you on / You wouldn't wait around / Hanging on so long."

Perhaps my favorite song here is "100% Free." For one, Paul Moeller's vocals are emotive and straightforward, drawing you into his intimate storytelling, and what fine lyrics, a fun brutal assessment of relationships simplified into meat market shopping - he sees her sashay down the aisle and puts her right in his shopping cart. But it's mostly just wishful thinking - as this lyric reveals: "My friends may be right / there might be something 'bout the way you look at me like I'm bound to fail / And your friends may be right / there might be something 'bout the way that I look at you like you're on sale / though we've only test driven each other once or twice / I'm fairly certain that we both thought it was nice."

Digby shifts to ballad mode with the quiet title track "Falling Up To The Stars." Again, I'm reminded of Cotton Mather at its best, with sweet harmonies on the chorus and more bittersweet poetic lyrics, looking for answers in the darkness of the sky: "Wanted to be caught in a light from afar / Breaking the weight / Falling up to the stars."

Rich Oeffinger lends some breezy lead to "Caged," a song about a man caged in a relationship that he assures us is "really over." How can you not like a song that uses the word hornswaggle?

John Shiner's piano is the glue beneath the bluesy ballad "Keep Your Distance." This is another failed relationship song - apparently we learn that "it's never the right time to love too much." Moeller really sells the agonized vocals big-time.

"M.I.A." is an easy anthem to sing along with (even with its 1980s new age accents), a sort of cautionary tale of an unpredictable woman to be avoided. "It's Not Over" mixes several styles of rock into one, a tale of panic and worst-case scenarios. "So Low" is another pretty atmospheric ballad, featuring a number of sweet musical accents (including violin) surrounding Moeller's sort of Dylan-esque speak and sing approach. As you listen, you can almost see the smoke in the bar around you.

"Some Can Hear" is a rambling ballad, softened by a string arrangement by Scott Staidle.

"'Til The Morning" is a beautiful closer, a tale of waiting, harmonized yeah yeahs, and the ultimate realization that "you were the lie that made me realize truth is so hard." In an unusual move, Digby also includes a track from their friends' band The Muckrakers (pretty decent at that too).

Formed in 2000 out of the remains of another band (100 Acre Woods), Digby changed their sound to deliver rock/power pop and haven't turned back once. They're able to incorporate a number of rock influences while managing to keep their own polished sound. I do wish the band would expand a bit more beyond the realm of failed relationships in their future lyrics, though (and it would have been nice to have lyrics included in the CD booklet, for the record).

Fans of Cotton Mather really should check Digby out immediately, but anyone with a penchant for infectious melodic rock and wry, intelligent lyrics should enjoy this. Falling Up is a most auspicious debut, mature and chock full of fun listening just in time for the hot summer.

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The Finn Brothers
Everyone Is Here

(Nettwerk Records)

Release Date: August 24, 2004

www.nettwerk.com

Career-wise, the Finn brothers have been a musical tour de force. From early days together in Tim's band Split Enz to later days reunited in Neil's band Crowded House and beyond to individual solo releases, there have been stellar moments both in songwriting and performance. Oddly enough, it wasn't until 1989 that the brothers actually entertained the idea of collaborating.

They started writing songs together for a project that never happened, and many of those songs wound up on Crowded House's releases Woodface and Together Alone. The next mutual side project was a hasty collaboration recorded in the space of four weeks and released in 1995 (in 1996 for the U.S.) as Finn. Though that release had some commercial aspects, it featured songs that largely explored exotic and tribal instrumental sounds (played mostly by the brothers) in moody ways.

Now, after a volley of multiple solo releases, the brothers have reunited for a project that is more deliberate and fully realized, reflecting more of a band sound. That's good news for fans of both Crowded House and Split Enz, because Everyone Is Here manages to further the brothers' musical legacy with twelve more good songs. Back are the delicate harmonies that seem to come naturally for this brother team, and a sense that the competition between them has inspired better music all around.

The CD leads with "Won't Give In," the most commercial track and obvious choice for single. This contemplative song about promises made, family ties and returning to the fold could fit well into the Crowded House canon. Neil mans the guitars, Tim the piano and additional percussion, while Matt Chamberlain drums and Sebastian Steinberg plays bass.

"Nothing Wrong With You" is another sweet gem, a mid-tempo number that lauds one who is better than the treatment the world affords him/her and surrounds it with an infectious melody: "We've learned to take abuse / from devils we don't know / People who have lost all heart / Look for someone else to blame / You just keep on walking when they call you a dirty name." A trio of producers lend a hand with this track: Mitchell Froom (who produced this record along with a number of Crowded House albums) adds additional piano, Jon Brion adds some drum and percussion fills (Chamberlain and Pete Thomas handle drums), and Tony Visconti aids the brothers with the string arrangement.

The Matt Chamberlain beat and handclaps drive the energetic "Anything Can Happen." Here Jon Brion adds some additional guitar, and Davey Farragher helms the bass in a song that reflects an attitude of forging on, coming round, gathering up and giving in.

While I first thought the love song "Luckiest Man Alive" was a bit saccharine on the lyrical end, it's a real grower musically. This out-and-out tribute to the woman he loves features a chorus of headline-type proclamations: "Man finds love in his life / He's the luckiest man alive / Someone true by his side / He's the luckiest man alive / She cut right through his foolish pride / He's the luckiest man alive."

Another contender for a single release would be "Homesick." Here you get a real sense of collaboration, yin and yang in the form of Tim and Neil harmonizing together as only they can. The yearning is captured in a thickly produced musical environment full of Tony Visconti arranged strings, piano and organ from Froom and Brion, and pedal steel and lap steel from B.J. Cole and Neil Watson respectively.

Visconti lends some lovely mandolin touches (along with double bass and cello) to the delicious brotherly reminisce of "Disembodied Voices." Here Neil and Tim think back to talking after the lights are out from their bedrooms down the hall some 40 years ago in Te Awamutu, New Zealand.

"A Life Between Us" is a wonderful musical exploration of brotherhood, a study in friendship, watching over each other, yet retaining plenty of mystery through the years as their relationship evolves. There are some wonderful passages here, such as "We're staring at each other / like the banks of a river / and we can't get any closer / but we form a life between us."

But it's not all deliberation and seriousness here. Witness the philosophical fun of the more upbeat "All God's Children," wherein heavy contemplation gets the tongue-in-cheekiness treatment as ultimately, love conquers all: "We're all God's children / and God is a woman but we still don't know who the father is."

"Edible Flowers" is a more somber piano and strings-driven ballad about mortality and the wish to survive "to see another birthday." This one's a bit heavy-handed lyrically for my tastes: yes, sure, we're all getting older and we shouldn't let the moment pass. Still, the Finn Brothers can create a beautiful song out of just about anything.

"All The Colours" is a short tuneful reminisce about a particular goodbye and how it takes a while to gather up and carry on beyond it. "Part of Me Part of You" is another strong equal vocal harmony song (think along the lines of "Chocolate Cake"), a paean to their roots in New Zealand as well as to their ongoing dream of a musical career.

The CD closes with the syncopated rhythms of "Gentle Hum," sounding like something off one of Neil's solo CDs. Neil plays the piano here (and takes the main vocals), accompanied by Jon Brion's percussion loops and the soft accordion of James Crabb.

The song is about the vibrations that will make us all one, and the sentiments are reflective, optimistic and well intentioned. It provides a sweet coda for what really is a superb collection of songs.

Like many a Crowded House release, this new Finn Brothers album gains resonance with repeated listens, revealing subtle charms and musical accents over time. Everyone Is Here is a fairly sedate affair, reflecting the maturity of songwriters who realize there's more to the craft than merely rocking out.

Froom's production is simple and effective (and aided by the contributions of Brion and Visconti), capturing the sense of a live band, even in the studio. Adam Kasper did a fine job of recording and Bob Clearmountain added his magic in the mixing room (joining Froom for the first time since Woodface).

While I still love certain songs from individual Neil and Tim solo efforts, this is a much more even collection overall than any of those, perhaps a direct result of the brothers pushing each other that extra bit to create better music. All told, these dozen songs are a cause for celebration for fans of Crowded House, Split Enz and music in general - Everyone Is Here delivers the kind of Finn Brothers album that people have long been awaiting.

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Jump
Between The Dim & The Dark

(Brash Music)

Release Date: April 20, 2004

www.jumphq.com

In the music business, bad luck often is the only luck going and talent doesn't necessarily translate into success. That's been the shame and the story up 'til now for the ultra-talented quintet out of Charleston, South Carolina currently known as Jump (formerly Jump, Little Children). Sporting a shorter name, a new label and a different producer, they've released Between The Dim & The Dark, a collection of ten marvelously ornate pop creations.

Now in their 13th year together, the band features Jay Clifford (vocals, guitar), Ward Williams (cello), Jonathan Gray (upright bass) and the brothers Bivins, Matt (harmonica, accordion, mandolin) and Evan (drums). These classical musicians met at school those many years ago and started out playing Irish folk music crossed with Delta blues. It's been a long evolution since then, and years of great live performances have added to an intensely loyal grass-roots fan base.

Their first major release, 1998's Magazine was a romp through variants of alternative rock, containing a number of various styles and sounds. 2001's *ertigo took the band to a new level of richness, as they extended their musical reach through several contemplative pop songs that required careful listens for full appreciation.

The new release manages to evolve the group's signature sound further, offering yet more of the sort of lush, beautiful soundscapes that are unmistakably theirs. What once was a bubbling brew of disparate sounds and energies has been reduced to a powerful musical concentrate full of flavor and intelligence.

As always, the focal point is the vocal wizardry and songwriting skills of Jay Clifford. Clifford. His breathy voice and unusual enunciations prove an effectively strong instrument for conveying a wide swath of emotions. The band, recognizing this, keeps Clifford's voice prominently front and center on all the new songs.

The CD leads with the title track, with Clifford singing what sounds to be an urgent tale, but turns out to be something far less specific ("now I know that everything's alright / if we stay between the glow and the light"). Even in its haunting vagueness, it's a stark and lovely melody, well performed in full cinematic soundtrack splendor.

"Hold You Down" is a bit edgier, Clifford's wonderful vocals helmed down by some fine drumming. It's an even piece, perhaps radio-ready in the sense that it somewhat resembles the kind of song purveyors of British dream pop manufacture. The lyrics are clever, questioning and playful: "Did I, did I / lend a hand to hold you down / or just a hand to hold / Did I, did I / pull the wool over your eyes / or keep you from the cold."

There's a lot going on here musically, but unfortunately the production mixes it all together, making it flatter than it need be.

Jump still know how to craft sweetly beautiful music as evidenced by the delightful "Rains In Asia." There's lightness to this upbeat song, the flow of the guitar chord changes, even the lyrics. It's all about the special feeling you get from a summer rainstorm and one woman's curiosity about whether everyone feels the same, even outside the boundaries of America. This is about as close a musical expression of innocent charm as one might hope to find.

My current favorite (it changes as I listen from day to day) is the wry ballad "Mexico."
Clifford's dulcet tones lay down the law for an impending break-up, dictating that he will only let her go if she goes "all the way to Mexico." It's a great song, chock full of salient details and lines that ring out the truth like this: "I won't let you leave / not with all my Django EmmyLou and Steve."

"Education" finds Jump heading into contemporary radio sounds, with Matthew Bivins adding in harmonica parts. It's a great song of advice about the horrible hurts that can befall one in love: "battered and chained / there is no way you can be saved / from a broken heart's education." Still, I shudder to think that anything from Jump might remotely resemble a Dave Matthews or John Mayer song.

The first single is the powerful "Young America," examining the fate of a young and innocent focus of a fickle country's desires. It features some of the strongest lyrics on the album: "Too bright to be faded / too light to be weighted / too effortless, lucid and true / Will she fall out of favor? / Will the stars not save her? / Will she walk on the razor's edge or be lost when she burns that bridge? / Will she take what I gave her on her way to young America."

"Broken" recalls songs from Vertigo in the way that Jay Clifford gets to explore a wider range of vocal nuances. His expressive voice highlights a truly wonderful song - the kind of track that truly defines the musical excellence that is Jump. Again, the lyrics are smart and well-wrought, telling about a man who has made peace with the world's injustices through the magic of a "dark and gentle kiss from the mouth of blinding bliss," yet is broken by the give and take of one certain someone.

"Requiem" conveys a powerful message - to preserve the past and emotional truth and passion no matter what. Sadly, the music isn't nearly as interesting as the lyrics (or as catchy as many of the other songs here), and it drags a bit as it goes beyond the five-minute mark.

There's a grandeur to "Midnight" (dedicated to John F. Bivins, Jr.), a song of tribute and memory and poignant observation: "Midnight's never dark enough to hide us from tomorrow." Just as morning follows night, so does "Daylight" follow "Midnight." The album's closing song features beautiful string arrangements, a nice guitar solo, and then some. It gives you a sense of the immense musical talent contained within this quintet.

Let me state for the record that my admiration and support of Jump remains steadfast. Their lush aural tapestries often remain breathtaking; their songwriting is complex and compelling and Jay Clifford's voice is reason enough to love them. As they move forward, they seem to have perfected that uniquely rich harmony-laden sound to a tee.

However, I do have some quibbles with Between The Dim & The Dark. For one, I'm not crazy about what new producer/mixer Rick Beato has done on some of the songs. While obviously going after a more polished radio-friendly sound, he's managed to flatten some of the songs, sacrificing personality for commercial gain perhaps. Those that have heard these songs in live performance may be in for a rude surprise when hearing them on the new album.

Also in the interest of presenting a more uniform, cohesive album, the current offering virtually ignores the quirky songwriting additions of Matt Bivins. I understand this, but still miss his eclectic contributions. The new album seems more business-like and less artsy than its predecessors. The songs remain grand, but there seem fewer risks taken throughout. I guess I can understand that too - and should it lead to long-deserved mass popularity for Jump, then I'll happily bite my tongue.

Like Vertigo, this record is one for listening. It's full of nuanced mid-tempo gems that beg for the full headphone treatment. These hard-working well-trained musicians create gorgeously grand pop creations - you owe it to yourself to put the time in to appreciate it properly.

Despite my minor qualms, I remain a fan of the new album. Between The Dim & The Dark is a mature step forward, a smartly integrated effort from a courageous and talented band that has weathered many a music business storm en route. They really do have a unique sound, and now that they've got it down to a science, one can only hope it leads to bigger and better things. The bottom line is always about the music - and ten new solidly crafted songs from Jump is a welcome treat, end of story

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The Rosenbergs
Department Store Girl

(Force MP)

Release Date: February 17, 2004

www.forcemp.com

In their relatively short musical history, The Rosenbergs seem to have been through a lot of controversy. They once turned down a chance to play a Farmclub television slot because of a terrible contract. They signed with Robert Fripp's label in time to see it head toward oblivion. They spoke out in favor of Napster, teaming with the service for tour sponsorship and a two-for-one promotion of their Mission:You release. Alas, we all know what became of that once mighty file-sharing giant.

Beyond all their anti-hoopla stances, The Rosenbergs remain proponents of simple catchy good-natured guitar-driven pop tunes. In spite of management, label and lineup changes, the music primarily remains fun fare, courtesy of songwriter/lead singer/guitarist David Fagin. The current lineup features Fagin, Joshua Aaron on bass, Joe Mahoney on guitars and Joe Darone on drums. After three years of trying, a new deal was secured and the long-awaited third album was released, self-produced this time around, reflecting more accurately what the band sounds like in live performance.

Department Store Girl starts its transmission with the infectious "Holding Pattern," taking off musically right where the band left off years ago. Highlights here include Fagin's falsetto vocals describing a situation where he's trying to make the best of something: "Somebody stop the world / my love's a ship and the ship just sank / somebody stop the world / my baby's caught in a holding pattern."

Fagin has a knack for writing the kind of heavenly pop songs that enter your head and refuse to leave. The title track is one of those, a harmony-drenched ode to a certain pretty retail princess and her past relationship with a certain someone. The simplicity of the song doesn't deny its power to make you want to sing out as the chorus declares: "she think about love while singing her bop bops / slinging her backpack / she thinks about all those things that she could do if she could get back."

Fagin adds a little moog for mood in his amusing guitar-heavy paean to Miami vice partners "Crockett and Tubbs." Here's a song that speaks to the kid in us all, playing tough guy like his TV heroes, fantasizing about cleaning up the town and saving the innocent.

The light and airy love song "Birds Of A Feather" mocks itself with obviously overly simplistic lyrics (e.g., "we go together just like jam and bread), yet manages to be a decent bit of bubblegum pop all the while, sporting piano highlights along with bits of California-style harmonies.

A similar light touch graces the dulcet "Gold Coast," wherein harmonies ponder the infernal enigma: "you are the sun wrapped around the moonlight / you're such a mystery."

"Blue Skies" is anything but - half plea with a love stalled to "say it all," half confession that he wants to be her love. "Bullet Proof Vest" is an intriguing mixture of garage rock, Lou Reed casual "rockspeak," and the frenetic party life antics of a college kid.

Fagin serves up a sweet string-accompanied ballad with "Woods" (Alison Chesley on cello, Susan Voelz on viola). In this song co-written with former member of The Churchills Kim Henry, he's crying over years wasted and asking for some clear direction after wandering: "I wanna be something, I wanna see something, I wanna feel something good."

"Nighttime Lover" is a serviceable entry, covering a lot of similar ground as the other songs both musically and lyrically regarding faking love, this time through the tale of a band groupie.

One of the real surprises here is the short yet delightful "Weekend (meet me, hurry up)" - another co-written with Kim Henry. It's a mad dash to get together while the weekend ends too soon: "Meet me on the way to the falling stars / meet me underneath the bright yellow moon / meet me where the waves of the ocean they crash against the dune."

The craziness of life (and death) is the agenda of "Pushing Up Daisies." Fagin's vocals are up front, while the pleasant song could easily fit in on a Fountains of Wayne collection.

Joe Darone's drumbeats lead the way in "Unperfect Love" (since the album's release, he has left the band and been replaced by Andrew Burstein). There are more driving guitars courtesy of Mahoney, more harmonies and a Beatle-esque guitar lead in this musical tale of changes afoot, having to break another's heart and yes, unperfect love.

Those twelve tracks are plenty, but Fagin gives you a spare hidden track as well (possibly entitled "Love is the flame that burns in your name"), featuring piano, guitar and vocals. Lest you think there's a happy ending, let me tell you "this love is the flame that's cold."

Fagin and company serve up a lot of music here, and most of it is pop/rock catchy, playful and wry. While simpler in production than its predecessor, Department Store Girl suffers some from too many songs with similar musical arrangements (notably crunchy stop-start guitars in the service of bouncy tuneful pop). It's a formula that works, but less so when done several times over in various guises. Yet there are enough highlights and departures to solidly recommend it.

David Fagin continues to craft polished, smart songs that are always nice, and often wildly catchy too. As such, Department Store Girl is bound to please fans of the band as well as newcomers. Yet the more exciting aspects here are those songs that hint at new musical directions (such as "Weekend") - I'd love to hear The Rosenbergs depart more from their perfected "formula" moving forward.

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