Scroll down for reviews of the latest from Doug Powell, Jack Logan and Bob Kimbell and The Lackloves.

Wondermints
mind if we make love to you

(Smile Records)

Release Date: September 10, 2002
www.smilerec.com

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus - and in this world of unlikely long shots, some people do by and large win big lottery jackpots. It’s heartwarming to hear about the occasional rags-to-riches tale or even that ten-second human-interest story they throw in as a tag at the end of a half hour of televised bad news.

For those who regularly read music reviews, you know as well as I that talent is no guarantee of success. However, this is that rare tale where the talented wind up both happy and discovered. mind if we make love to you is a joyous record of retro sounds, slick and familiar in good ways, but recombined in a dozen new and original ways.

Flash back to 1982, Los Angeles: Darian Sahanaja and Nick Walusko meet through a mutual friend and start a musical relationship, writing and playing first for others and then, by the start of the next decade, when feeling they could improve on what was being heard on the radio then, for themselves as The Wondermints. Bassist Brian Kassan joined the group (and has since departed to form his own band Chewy Marble and was replaced first by Jim Mills and then Probyn Gregory), as did drummer/vocalist Mike D’Amico.

Their homemade cassette tapes (1992-1994) dug deep into the sounds of decades gone by, most heavily those of the sixties and seventies, and made a notable impression within the underground Los Angeles music scene. However, it took a Japanese label to make a record from these original color-coded cassettes. That incredible debut (released a year later domestically by Big Deal) Wondermints featured the music of Walusko and Sahanaja and while not a big commercial success, it was lauded by many critics as one of the best CDs in many a year.

The songs showed many influences, but particularly that of Brian Wilson. The song “Tracy Hide” remains a beautiful testament to the melodic constructions of Wilson at the height of his creative powers. When Wilson heard it, he was impressed, allegedly stating that “if he had known the Wondermints in 1967, he would have taken Smile out on the road.”

The Wondermints also did many covers in their live act (in fact, their second release as dictated by their Japanese label was a collection of all covers), including Beach Boys songs. By 1995, they actually got to play with Brian Wilson and the rest remains history. While contributing songs to soundtracks and compilation recordings (most notably the 1997 Mike Myers’ flick Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery), the group basically became an active part of Brian Wilson’s touring backup band.

They toured nationally with Brian Wilson and Paul Simon, and have made many television appearances with Wilson (most recently at the special command performance for Queen Elizabeth’s Golden Jubilee). They are scheduled to appear with Wilson and Paul McCartney at a charity benefit in September.

So it has been a very busy four years since the group’s last official release, 1998’s Bali. And with the new CD, you still can hear a lot of the Beach Boys’ influence (in fact, Brian Wilson even contributes backup vocals to the tracks “Ride” and “So Nice”), but there is (as always) so much more. The trio is just as polished as ever, and the new disk really marks the true emergence of Mike D’Amico as an equal songwriter alongside Walusko and Sahanaja.

These songs seem intentionally to overlap, both in specific subject matter as well as in general lyrical and musical sensibilities. The vibe here is happy/trippy, but The Wondermints take care to use their melodic music as a barrier preventing things from getting too sappy.

The new CD leads off with Walusko’s “On The Run,” a song that invokes that Austin Myers/Mike Flowers retro feeling in spades. This is big flower power prettiness, with lyrics that really are not meant for close inspection (“I’m close to you / just like one is from two / and I’m close to you and you know that it’s true / Let us hold the good things on the run /Give us all the good news from the sun”).

Next up is the terrifically catchy Sahanaja song that leads in with a very Beach Boys-ish sounding verse into a chorus that really flaunts Darian’s vocal prowess. Add strings, the occasional harp glissando and you’ve got the very recipe for power pop perfection. Lyrically, this effort manages to convey the excitement of dreams of a love about to begin, and the bravado of that fantasy, even though the love itself might not ever happen: “Free as a flower leaning off the edge of the earth / Free in the hour take a chance for all that it’s worth /All wound up and ready to go for a spin /All wound up and waiting for love to begin / Wheels are spinning out of control / We’re on a Technicolor motor-ride (motor ride, motor…) / Weaving in and out of my soul, we’re on a magic roller coaster ride / Well I know we’ll never get to heaven / Let’s go for a drive / I’ll take you somewhere.”

Another Sahanaja composition “Shine On Me” combines the best of the 1960s and the 1970s all in one. Picture Classics IV crossbred with mid-seventies classics, add horns, a little wah-wah, and some backing vocals from Evie Sands and you’ll be transported back in time. This is fascination with someone who has the power to make a dull world exciting: “I can’t believe that things once still now look bright / But I believe that you’re for real / Shine the light, shine on me forever /Show me the colors that I never knew / Show me that it’s true / I leave it up to you.”

The lovely “Time Has You” by Nick Walusko mixes in some extra Beatles influences with his pastiche of other past sounds (these guys do write some amazing music), in this song of years and natural progressions (“all the time you have now has you”).

Perhaps my favorite here is the song that hearkens back to the best of The Wondermints, the piano-based “Another Way” (by Sahanjara). Again, you hear some Beach Boys/Wilson influence here, but translated through the filter of Darian’s voice and refined way of making something wholly original and beautiful. You’ll be hard-pressed to find a prettier song musically than this. It’s a lyrical bit of optimism that assumes love will rescue one from troubles and insanity: “See the sadness envelop her / why she turns insane / Venus locked in the shell of the one who lost her way /And when the dawn is broken into sorrow / And with the consequences that ensue, I’m with you / Nothing to do but follow through when your gods are unkind / look within where you will find another way / Feel the love and you will find your way…another day, another way.”

Mike D’Amico’s “Project 11” is a pleasant addition, featuring nice harmonies, percussion accents and the kind of “bah bahs” that recall The Association. Nick Walusko takes those same “bah bahs” and throws in a bit more Latin sort of Sergio Mendes feel with his “Out Of Mind”. This is typical Wondermints territory, the past and the present co-mingling, complete with a woman’s voice interjecting some dialogue (“Hey Baby”) that forces the singer to realize he is but a prisoner in her space.

Walusko’s “Sweetness” trades on a sort of Eric Burdon & War’s “Spill The Wine” vibe, and does it masterfully, exploring a secretive relationship that takes him higher (“I drew a circle / you drew a line / We drew a bad card baby - two of a kind”).

Mike D’Amico really shows his stuff with “If I Were You” - aural proof that not only the other two gents can write fantastic songs. This one features subtle piano underpinning the verses, another very Beach Boys-like chorus, and a great guitar lead that follows the middle bridge. With “Something I Knew”, D’Amico creates another wonderful song, this one at times a piano-based musical cousin to “Mr. Bojangles” that goes off in other directions with horns and full impressive production.

Breaking up most of the upbeat optimism is the quieter ballad of Sahanjara’s “Listen,” a song that proclaims boldly “Everywhere I go, I feel as if I’m gone.” Again, a beautiful arrangement makes a pleasant song all the more luminous, and the lyrics combine with emotive vocals to convey this personal confusion: “Everywhere I go, I feel a little lonely /
Faces that I know, I really don’t at all / How in the world do I face my position / How in the world could I make someone listen?”

Working with Brian Wilson has been a very positive influence on The Wondermints, and further evidence is there in the form of the closer “So Nice.” This is music that not only serves as a tribute to that influence, but as its equal (sacrilege perhaps, but listen and you’ll hear what I mean). This Walusko/Sahanjara collaboration is vintage Beach Boys for a modern age and a whole new generation of youngsters. “So Nice” is so nice, and then some.

These dozen songs are more celebration than innovation, simple pleasures arranged in complex manner that delight the ear. It’s the kind sound you’re not likely to hear elsewhere these days and as such, becomes fresh and distinct while seeming ever so familiar. The Wondermints are back after four years of backing you-know-who; but this talented trio has learned well from the master, and we the public reap the happy reward.

If you are a fan of the fun sounds of the 1960s, and particularly those of Brian Wilson and The Beach Boys, then run and get yourself a copy of mind if we make love to you. This is a happy tale of the obscure but talented cover band becoming the real thing - and proof positive that such things do occur, even in this big bad world.

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Doug Powell
The Lost Chord

(Parasol Records)

Release Date: July 16, 2002

www.parasol.com

"I say unto you: one must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star.” Frederich Nietzsche, fromThus Spoke Zarathustra, part I.

Doug Powell is smart and talented and frustrated and thinks enough to be more than just a bit unhappy, I’d wager. Maybe one or any of those factors leads to the end product, and perhaps his past history in the music business doesn’t help matters much either, but from this personal chaos Mr. Powell has indeed given birth to a dancing star. In his first effort on Parasol, Powell has turned his almost one-man show (Prairie Prince plays drums on one track) into an astronomical event. The Lost Chord is a musical supernova, a fascinating and often experimental journey that explodes in your earphones as it captivates throughout.

This is not easy listening, nor is there any real “single” here. Maybe there’s a slow dance you can wreak out of a track or two - but this is music for listening, the kind of stuff that transcends - atmospheric, moody, expansive and all over the musical realm. Powell’s studio prowess is in evidence right from the get-go, magical and heavy and reflecting that inner chaos to the benefit of his listeners.

Just as Nietzsche challenged traditional foundations with his philosophical beliefs, Powell does the same for pop musical expectations in this new millennium. He takes on the philosopher and the figureheads, the magician and the modern world with lyrics smart and obscure enough to escape any easy analysis.

Powell’s musical statement is a cumulative philosophy - these are songs about broken dreams and the search for truth. It’s a total “uber-experience” that really proves worthwhile. As such, allow me to take you on a mini-guided tour.

The CD opens with a gong, electronically enhanced laughing, noises, percussion and general electronic cacophony building into the harmonies of the sung title “Merlin Laughed.” This is a minor-key song of warning, of predicting evils to come (“the future’s a stranger with a familiar laugh / it won’t obey, so please don’t ask”), as the great magician chuckles at our eventual fate.

This leads into “Nietzsche Is Dead (v.1),” a short bit of music-hall operetta complete with old-fashioned record scratch sounds, celebrating God’s last laugh against the philosopher. Powell is clever here, if obscure to most: “He could not find God / the items on his nihilist / He determined did not exist / so at God he swung a mighty fist/ but it’s Nietzsche that is dead.”

This takes us into “A Roar Boring Alice,” the first track that shows off Powell’s magnificent voice (he’s a natural lead, emotive and reminiscent of many past pop heroes, capable of belting it out or toning it down accordingly). This is wonderful pop territory, great ringing double-tracked guitars and a nice drum/bass line leading us up and down around the vocals that tell the story of this clueless Alice, who manages to ignore her reality and have no regard for the truth.

A Strawberry Fields-like organ heads the intro into “Baby Blue,” another vocal tour-de-force. Prairie Prince pounds the skins in this slow-paced ballad to frustrated dreamers the world over: “Rome fiddled while Nero burned / and nothing obeyed / and this useless passion yearned / and so with some enchanted loom / you wove beautiful lies you wished were true.” The production values are very familiar - Beatles and Badfinger and Jeff Lynne/ELO and Todd Rundgren and then some.

Powell takes the percussion reins on the beat-driven “Queen of Hurts.” This time the clueless one is a bored object of worship, a queen hell-bent on unhappiness and pain. You get fuzz/reverb guitars and enough noise to wake the neighbors.

The title track offers up lovely melodic piano battling the sonic wail of a background guitar and its disturbing feedback. The effect is intentionally unnerving, echoing the lyrics. This is yet another tale of a man broken, dreams remolded and choking.

This leads into the single guitar strum that breaks into the full organ and synth-horn arrangement of “Cul-De-Sac.” This is a declamation against routine and comfort, the trap of getting caught up in the familiar, and ultimately a cry to break out from it. Powell does a good job with ambitious lyrics and again beefs up the production in ways that challenge your beliefs that it’s only one man playing and singing it all.

“The Palace Of A Sigh” is another piano ballad that, in this reviewer’s opinion, would work perfectly as a theme to some new James Bond film (really, give it a listen and see). There are the strings and the electronic/synth static and the low tremolo guitar lead, backing up this very pretty song about discovering the truths behind and within.

Strange repetitive percussion sounds (think Pink Floyd’s “Money” and then some) lead the lovely “Machina.” This infectious melody works like a well-oiled machine, again reflecting the meaning contained within. Powell exposes machines as a destroyer of truth; a poor substitute: “Just another pretty puppet / of pantomime and of shadow / It’s a currency of gesture / Nothing bought and nothing sold.”

Next up it’s back to music hall fun with another near minute of “Nietzsche is Dead (v.2)” (poor Nietzsche). The CD wraps with the poignant “She Walks On Water,” all about a paradox of a woman: “She walks on water / she swims upon the shore.”

Powell includes the lyrics (though they remain obscure in meaning at times, necessarily) and also does the graphic design for the CD, including a tasteful montage of eclectic items (he really is a Renaissance man).

The son of a physicist and a flautist, Powell grew up in Oklahoma and made his way to the limelight by impressing Jules Shear with a demo tape. Shear then produced a demo tape that lead to the RCA signing and recording of Ballad of the Tin Men. RCA dropped Powell, but Mercury eventually released the CD (and sent Powell a-touring with Todd Rundgren). Rundgren and Powell forged a friendship, and Rundgren wanted to produce Powell's next album. Mercury dropped Powell, but NotLame released this material as Curioser and also another set of originals (More).

In 2001, Powell was an integral member of Swag, a group comprised of an all-star line-up from other band members (Sixpence None the Richer, Wilco, Mavericks). After a Japanese EP release Venus de Milo’s Arms, Powell has his first release on Parasol.

While this may seem to some an odd collection of music, it’s well worth the headphones and the patience. In my own experiment, I shared this CD with a few people in my office. They gave it a spin. One said, “I’ve never heard anything quite like this before - it’s part Gilbert and Sullivan, part rock opera, part Oingo Boingo, part I don’t know what.” For those unfamiliar with the musical excesses and abstractions of the prog rock groups of the 1970s, those grand dramatic collections by the likes of Emerson, Lake & Palmer and others, this is strange alien territory.

Yet, to a person, everyone I have played this for has loved it. It is different and grandiose and fresh - a look backwards while running ahead. As Doug Powell gives up caring about fitting into any mold, he lets loose with the kind of talent we always knew was lurking beneath the surface. The diverse music and heavy production of The Lost Chord may throw some people off-track, but who cares? Powell is one of our great natural resources - give him time alone in a studio and he’ll spin angst into fascinating musical fun. The Renaissance Man delivers the goods with this one, and he leaves you wanting more.

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Jack Logan & Bob Kimbell
Woodshedding

(Parasol)

Release Date: July 2, 2002

www.parasol.com

Inexplicably, sometimes the collaborative sum is far greater than the respective parts. No disrespect intended to the solo efforts of Jack Logan or to those of Bob Kimbell (who fronts the band Weird Summer), but when these two get together there just seems to be some additional musical magic. Woodshedding presents eleven new tracks, diverse in style yet all of them flowing easily, with a warm and inviting alt-country sound that reminds one of life’s simple pleasures.

“Further South” is driven by a great bass bounce, a sort of unadorned relaxed recounting of lyrical silliness: (On the trolley with my white socks / ringing bells from all the time clocks / and it’s time that I’m in line to choke and kill / Cadillacs with golden bumpers / kangaroos from way down under / hopping across the mansions on the hill / This river meets the ocean further south / with New Orleans on the corner of its mouth / The sin runs down from the people in the towns and runs to the ocean further south.” Kimbell’s mournful harmonica flourishes add just the right touch and William Tonks’ guitar is outstanding.

“Host Of The Party” has almost an island-type rhythm to it, with lovely acoustic guitar by Nick Rudd. This is a simple story about the appearance of the wrong man at the wrong place: “You want to get away from me / I’m the thing you fear the most / Want to know if you’re the host of the party.”

“Legs & Brains” is a great blues number, again containing marvelously obscure lyrics that still sound great: “Fords and Chevys and Dodges / Hornets and Stingrays and Hawks / big glare of babies with basketball heads / learning to walk and to talk / too much legs and brains, too much legs and brains / babe on a bottle, I keep complaining.”

However, you’d be hard-pressed to find more honest lyrics than those of “I Still Miss Her Dog.” This country send-up tells the tale of a man who misses his ex-woman’s canine, even after he’s found a new relationship: “My new love lives alone, no cats or dogs at home, just stereo and TV making sound / I know I should be glad, I’m not, I’m kinda sad without a certain doggie hanging round / I still miss her dog / chasing rubber balls across her lawn / place no one else above me, I know that dog still loves me / and I still miss her dog.” Tonks delivers some great dobro here.

John Neff (Star Room Boys, Japancakes) provides some wonderfully weepy pedal steel on several songs, and really contributes to the spacious atmosphere in “Nothing But Sky.” The pedal steel is the perfect complement to emotive vocals here; it gives the song attitude and altitude.

Perhaps my favorite track is the relatively upbeat “Here Comes Sisyphus.” This is the confession of the everyman who has a goal in mind in spite of his daily setbacks: “How many times can I keep on wrapping those same old gifts / turning in cul-de-sacs, backing down dead-end roads / too proud to ask directions to the places that I want to go / People watch me as I hammer and scratch away / and one will turn to the other, lower his voice and say / Here comes Sisyphus pushing that rock on up the hill, don’t think he ever will / here comes Sisyphus pushing that rock on up the hill / it’s gonna roll on back, crush his ass / he oughta know better than that.”

Kimbell and Logan harmonize in a way oddly reminiscent of Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris’ cover of “Love Hurts” in the somber “The Only Son.” John Neff again does a virtuoso job with the pedal steel here, adding weight and personality to this tale of an orphaned boy trying to cope.

“Ripped It Away” is an inventive song of blame and opportunity lost (“everything changed right away”) with some interesting musical changes as well. “Holes In Your Story” is one man’s defense of himself against another’s, reminding her that he knows things about her too and that they must come to a sort of agreement ultimately.

Another Caribbean-type rhythm backs the mood-track “Navigator Type.” This is pretty, but it’s more a musical feel, a vibe, than anything else - the lyrics seem almost improvised.

“Just As You Are” switches gears, as Brendan Gamble’s percussion moves to the soft drum and brush sounds of the late-night lounge. There are some great vocals here (along with some fine piano and lead guitar accents), in this harsh yet loving indictment of another: “Sure good to see you with egg on your face / it covers those burning cold eyeballs of yours / you sit getting drunk listening to old records / the books on your shelf tell a twisted tale / the contents of your sad refrigerator / there isn’t a word that I need to say / Don’t get me wrong, you were right all along / you’re fine as you are / just as you are.”

The CD finishes with a hidden all-instrumental track of “I Still Miss Her Dog,” perfect for a little late night home karaoke. Jack Logan and Bob Kimbell seem to do their best work together and Woodshedding is all the proof you’ll need. If you are a fan of alt-country pop, you’ll love the down-home ease that runs through this fine collection of songs. This is well-executed casual music that hits home without a lot of seriousness, and is a pleasure on the ears.

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The Lackloves
Starcitybaby

(Rainbow Quartz)

Release Date: June 4, 2002

www.lackloves.com

If you like the clean guitar sounds and fab beats of the Brit-pop songs of the mid-1960s, then I’d say chances are strong you’ll really like The Lackloves’ sophomore effort Starcitybaby. While many of today’s groups trade in fondly recreating this golden era of music with jangle guitars and nice harmonies, what distinguishes The Lackloves’ Mike Jarvis and crew is the strength of the songwriting. Many of these songs are good enough melodically to hold their own with the originals.

After five years (and two albums) fronting the critically lauded Blow Pops, Milwaukee’s Mike Jarvis set out to form a new band that would remain true to his love of that great pop music sound of yesteryear. After a few years of personnel changes, Jarvis got The Lackloves into the studio to record the now out-of-print As Far As You Know on small indie label Endora’s Box. Drummer Nick Randazzo left and was replaced by Nick Verban, former Blow Pop bassist Jack Rice joined the group, and guitarist Bob Eickhoff joined Jarvis for this new record on Rainbow Quartz (though since its release, Eickhoff has moved on and been replaced by Don Moore).

There is no sophomore jinx here. Instead, Jarvis is very much on top of his game. You’ll find this collection of eleven new songs as catchy as ever. It’s as though the Mersey took a sidetrack through Milwaukee, and Jarvis’ Lennon-like vocals provide just the right level of grist and edge to the otherwise sweet proceedings. This is great guitar-based pop that invokes the spirit of the 1960s, with hints of the Fab Four, The Kinks, The Who and even some Monkees, Rutles, Spongetones and Redd Kross. It’s not far-fetched to reminisce about the sounds of Freddie & The Dreamers, Gerry & The Pacemakers, The Hollies or even The Mindbenders here - Jarvis has done his homework and crafts lovely pop confections after this fashion.

Starcitybaby opens with the jangle pop of “Starspangledsatellites”, employing a nice use of the guitar’s harmonics and even featuring a backwards loop as a reprise at song’s end. This is a song reflecting back on a relationship that was and somehow now isn’t, the players having moved on without quite knowing why: “I’ll never know what’s come between us, you and I / and we’ll remain undefined until the end of time.”

“Emily” is a tribute to an independent woman and her indefatigable spirit, done in the style of a new wave group from the early 1970s (showing Jarvis’ stylistic range). “Where Love Ain’t Around” is a sugary ballad set against layers of shimmering guitar sounds, a pop tale of frustration and loneliness within an uncertain relationship. The middle bridge and ensuing lead break is pop perfection.

Jarvis switches to his Mersey Beat-vibe in the track “Goodbye.” This is early Beatles pop simplicity, great rhythm guitars, bouncy bass, head-shaking beats, nice harmonies, handclaps, and guitar accents that are familiar as an old friend. The lyrics are simple, a reaction to being told goodbye.

Immediately following is yet another perfect British invasion sound alike, the very infectious “Down Deep,” which gets away with the type of simple early Harrison lead guaranteed to elicit a smile. Jarvis’ vocals are as genuine as the originals, as he tells us “being wrong ain’t any sin.”

“Molasses Funk” takes off into the noise/psychedlic pop territory of the mid-to-late 1960s, allowing for some nice lead guitar while trading on a simple yet repetitive melody.
The singer wants out of a relationship with someone who holds him back, doesn’t have the slightest clue, doesn’t know him well and will never know.

Dulcet jangle pop is the fare with “Need To See You Tonight,” a simple love song of the let’s go anywhere, let’s do anything variety, fueled by impressive guitars.

“Something In Your Eyes” is an upbeat song about a failure to communicate: “You think I’m misunderstanding something in your eyes / I don’t think you’re seeing me too clearly, I don’t think you’ve got it right.” “Lovin’ On the Phone” is another up-tempo track of the utmost catchiness.

Jarvis goes back to the classic sounds of the late fifties/early sixties with his ballad “Do You Miss Me?” Ah, what Tony Sheridan could have done with this kind of material!

The CD closes with “Brown Eyes You” a nice use of harmonies and rhythms that pulls out all the stops, using every element that makes for lasting sweet timeless pop, whatever the year. My only criticism of Starcitybaby is that the lyrics don’t really challenge the way they should - and considering the strength of the melodies, they almost cry out for more distinguished words. However, you’ll probably be so busy singing along you probably won’t even notice. This is the old made new with confidence and panache - a fun summer collection that will leave you wanting more.

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