|
Gary Glauber
Reviews: November, 2003
Scroll
down for reviews of the latest from David Dondero, The Ray
Mason Band, Hawks, Barely Pink, Lovetap, The Boris Flats and
The Trouble Dolls
The
Everyothers
The Everyothers
(Hautlab Music Group)
Release Date: November 4, 2003
www.everyothers.com
Sometimes
you just need something loud and raw to rock your world. Thankfully
(and contrary to popular belief), the true loud rock tradition
lives on. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the eponymous offering
from a quartet from Brooklyn known as The Everyothers.
While
others have compared the sound of The Everyothers to Ziggy
Stardust-era David Bowie, I'm here to set the record straight.
Sure they can do glam-rock a la Bowie-style, remarkably so
and true to Tony Visconti's production mastery, but there's
a lot more to them than that.
Think
high-energy beats, brash guitars, crunchy and confident, executing
melodic songs that cover a wide realm of pure rock territory.
As a result, The Everyothers likely will get compared to everyone
from Bowie to the current garage band flavors of the month.
Singer/songwriter/guitarist
Owen McCarthy helms the proceedings, serving up vocals in
the Axl Rose tradition, sure of himself, sweet enough and
emotive with just the right edge of rawness, yet capable of
pure power screaming. His subtle interactions with his bandmates
work flawlessly - you get a real sense of tight live excitement
from this studio offering.
Lead
Guitarist Joel B. Cannon takes off from Mick Ronson roots
and updates the sound as needed, serving up thick distorted
tones at times, more traditional fills at others. The rhythm
team of Ben Toro on bass and John Melville on drums understands
how to make the rock roll. Tim O'Heir's (Superdrag, Sebadoh)
production keeps it simple and direct. This is slick in the
sense of tight performances, but muddy enough to convey the
group's musical energy.
You
might hear some Supergrass influence here, but you could just
as easily argue for Super Furry Animals, Black Crowes, or
a harder-edged The Strokes (or The Vines, The Hives, etc).
Me, I hear an amalgam of many sounds, Guns N' Roses or even
the long-lost Billy Idol, Iggy and The Stooges, and even some
fine 70s metal mixed in there. It's gritty and punkish and
so much more than just another tired glam-rock re-tread. The
Everyothers seem to have the real goods.
First,
let's examine the Bowie references. "Can't Get Around
It" is so perfectly a modern clone of vintage Bowie,
it's scary. You can't get any better than this, delicious
guitar rock with attitude. This defense of pride and manhood
couched in making sure his woman "gets enough" offers
shouted verses that lead into a harmony chorus that declares:
"I'm moving to a different plan, I'm working on my New
York tan."
The
only other real Bowie-like tunes here are the rocking "Go
Down Soon," again serving up shouted verses that fold
into a more melodic chorus and "In My Shoes," a
slower driving tune that recalls those Ziggy Stardust days.
On all three of these songs, Cannon's guitars never strike
a false note.
More
traditional rockers include "Like A Drug" (this
is the one that strikes me as curiously Billy Idol-like, in
a very good way), and its musical cousin "Ticket Home."
"Make Up Something" is another competent rocker,
allowing McCarthy another emotive vocal turn along with subtle
accents from Toro's basslines.
I
particularly like the song "Break That Bottle" with
its slightly jazz-influenced syncopations and fills. Joel
B. Cannon turns his expressive guitar fills into a virtual
second vocalist on the verses of "No Right Time."
"Surprise,
Surprise" is where McCarthy reminds me a wee bit of Axl
Rose in his vocal prime, comfortably able to traverse songscapes
of sensitivity to those of ugly power. McCarthy is a talented
songwriter who provides himself with ample opportunity and
range to impress as a vocalist on this dozen-song debut.
"Whatever
You Want" is a hard-driving straight-ahead rocker that
opens the proceedings on a strong note. The closer, "Dead
Star," is the only true ballad here, a song of isolation
and farewells that closes this fine collection and allows
McCarthy a chance at doing a Bono-like turn.
Those
who prefer raw power in their rock choices definitely should
give The Everyothers a listen. This band has energy and talent
that transcends the glam-rock label others seem eager to pin
on them. The Everyothers is classic rock charisma masquerading
as a debut. They have reverence for their antecedents, but
simply put, these four purely can rock. Watch out for these
boys in the future. Guaranteed they'll rock your arena, given
half a chance.
________________________________________________________________
David
Dondero
The Transient
(Future Farmer)
Release Date: October 21, 2003
www.futurefarmer.com
Once
upon a time in America the tradition grew of the lonesome
troubadour, traveling across this nation, guitar in hand,
singing and writing songs about the land and the experiences
and the people found along the way. Probably the most famous
example of this tradition would be Oklahoman Woody Guthrie
(whose unused lyrics were set to new music in recent years
by Wilco and Billy Bragg); a more modern example would be
the music and life of Texan Townes Van Zandt.
Following
in their famous footsteps, traveling the nation with his own
personal version of that folk music tradition comes the somewhat
obscure David Dondero, who has gone from Clemson, South Carolina
to Pensacola, Florida to San Francisco currently, with many
stops elsewhere, working odd jobs along the way.
Knowing
that he speaks from vagabond experience lends credence to
his music, including the eleven new songs on his latest release
The Transient. Most of these songs laud the transient
lifestyle, while others just observe it.
Dondero
opens with "Living and the Dead," a country/bluegrass-folk
number that tells of his trials and travails in choosing this
road-worn troubadour's existence, a curious mix of highway
archaeology and poetry: "I play the skinny indie white
boy blues in scuffed up military style shoes, I'm a convenience
store connoisseur on a broken shoe string budget tour."
This
deceptively upbeat number is loaded up with lyrics that tell
about the roller coaster life of the transient performer.
It's not easy, we gather, having to drive 14 hours to play
to the sound guy as he's reading his book in an empty venue,
nor would it be much fun to sleep every night in a truck.
But Dondero takes it in stride, turning his situations into
musical fodder, or as he puts it "Just paraphrasing words…just
to leave behind a song." His voice and able guitar picking
sets you up not only to listen to his tales, but also to believe
in them. There's an attractive intimacy at work here, and
a sound that wavers between fragility and power as needed
to tell each musical tale.
Dondero
once was part of the alt-rock band Sunbrain, who released
three albums prior to breaking up in 1996. After forming the
short-lived Flatwheelers (and a brief stint as drummer for
This Bike Is A Pipe Bomb), Dondero decided to go it alone
as a solo folk act.
While
touring with Sunbrain, Dondero first met Mike Mogis (circa
1994), who was putting together his own studio at the time.
Circumstances prevented their working together again till
now, but Dondero finally found his way back to Lincoln, Nebraska,
where Mogis and several other local musician pals aided in
the making of The Transient.
In
the interim, Mogis and his Bright Eyes contingents have had
a fair amount of success with David Dondero's style (far more
than he has had himself), and so there's a bit of irony to
the fact that Conor Oberst and other Bright Eyes members show
up here backing Dondero (like Tiffany Kowalski on violin and
Casey Scott on bass). Wolf Colonel's Jason Anderson lends
support on keys, while Gus' Craig D. plays drums.
Somber
comes with handclaps here. Witness the light reflection on
death that is "Ashes on the Highway." There's a
certain nonchalance to Dondero's traveling ways, he's one
who wants no fancy funeral, no fuss about his eventual passing:
"When I die, burn my body and sprinkle my ashes on the
highway / Let the traffic spread the ashes in the ditches
and the overpasses." The idea is keep everything moving.
Death doesn't stop anything.
Perhaps
the most beautiful song here is the poignant "20 Years,"
a haunting tale of an ex-con out after doing two decades of
prison time and finding that no one wants to hire him, that
he's a different man from his experiences, but that the riverboat
horn remains the same.
Dondero
has fun here as well. In "See It Clear," a sort
of freewheeling nonsensical treatise, he gives in to the temptation
of the flesh, then stands for his mom's critique of his songwriting.
The
quiet ballad of "Less Than The Air" is spare, preaching
happiness to be found in traveling and observing nature's
bountiful wonders rather than the traps of self-deprecation
and easy misery. Dondero's voice wavers like the wind itself
as the song builds from basic voice and acoustic guitar to
something with percussion and piano and backed vocals and
whistling, then finally collapses into a debate about what
tangelos might be. It remains a simple performance, and therein
lies its charm.
Simplicity
also is the key to Dondero's ode to the healing powers of
a North Carolina small town, "I'm Going Back To Wilmington,"
wherein he recounts the tale of the comforts of a woman there,
the music and the water.
Another
pretty one is the beguiling love song "The Stars Are
My Chandelier," in which Dondero flexes his poetic metaphor
muscle in trying to describe a great love: "I could say
my love is bigger than the big apple / Like oxyphenbutazone
in scrabble / Just like the stars are my chandelier / Just
like these landscapes are my living room / Just like these
highways are veins / I am the blood, I am the rain."
"Vaporize"
is almost tribal in its rhythms, a reflection on the missing
body of failed mountain climber Naomi Uemura, who made the
summit of Denali but never made it back down.
Perhaps
my favorite here is the title track, inexplicably buried deep
inside this CD's offerings. It's yet another song celebrating
the traveling life, this one questioning the very search involved
in always going to the end of the road and back again, not
knowing "what's for me" and only feeling good when
in the act of going.
The
closer is one that Woody Guthrie could appreciate, "Song
for the Civil Engineer."
In this odd song for the road, Dondero reminds us that behind
every snakey stretch of tar, concrete and gravel, there was
a civil engineer and crew working hard to lay it down.
To
my ears, the only track that really doesn't come across well
is the repetitive "Dance of Spring," a monotonous
reminisce of a dead lover now replaced by alcohol and drugs.
The other ten are an eloquent bunch of songs celebrating the
ups and downs of the traveling wayfarer life with its constant
motion, its uncertainty alongside death, love, loss, and more.
David
Dondero calls the whole country home, and has seen enough
along the way to serenade it in song. He loves the road and
its sometime miseries, but like any existential hero worth
his weight, he's determined to keep at it, survival being
more than enough if fame isn't immediately forthcoming.
The
Transient is eloquent and enjoyable, simple and upbeat,
yet full of clever and often poetic musings. Dondero has released
enough music to be called a veteran songsmith now, and he
manages to balance viewpoints well as he takes on "the
life of the road," walking that fine line between seriousness
and tongue-in-cheek. And, as I said earlier, living it, he's
earned the right to sing about and chronicle it.
Musically,
things remain simple but varied enough to retain your interest.
Dondero is a solid picker in live performance, and you sense
that. The musicians that back him here lend warmth to the
proceedings and their ensemble work never overpowers the folk-singer's
lone voice and guitar that is (and should remain) the focus
of the record. Mogis does a nice job of protecting the fragility
that makes Dondero's work appealing. The end product remains
unpolished, to a certain extent.
Fans
of Americana (or even No Depression and alt-country) will
find much to like in The Transient, as will those who
like the simpler side of Ryan Adams or the Mermaid Avenue
projects by Bragg and Wilco. That he manages to be both eccentric
and cozily inviting is a testament to the quiet folk talents
of David Dondero, who takes this long-revered tradition and
carries that torch into the modern day with charm and aplomb.
________________________________________________________________
Ray
Mason Band
Idiot Wisdom
(Captivating Music)
Release Date: October 17, 2003
www.raymason.com
Veteran
roots-rocker Ray Mason is at it again. In a life rich with
music (he's also part of the alt-country band Lonesome Brothers),
he somehow manages to remain quite prolific. Following close
on the heels of his easy-to-love 2002 set, Three Dollar
Man, as well as contributing six more songs to the 2002
Lonesome Brothers' Pony Tales release, Ray and his
musical cohorts are back with Idiot Wisdom, another
short but sweet collection featuring eleven songs bound to
please.
Ray
and his band have been making fun music since 1982, and releasing
"official" albums since 1994. Sadly the general
public still doesn't know him as well as it should, so here's
the quick scorecard: Ray calls western Massachusetts home,
he plays a signature 1965 Silvertone guitar and heads a talented
ensemble comprised of guitarist Tom Shea, bassist Stephen
Desaulniers, and drummer Frank Marsh. Producer Jim Weeks serves
as the guest fifth member, adding some keyboards and guitar
solos.
Averaging
over 140 shows a year, The Ray Mason Band has opened for a
veritable list of musical all-stars including The Band, NRBQ,
Marshall Crenshaw, Graham Parker, Robbie Fulks, Yo La Tengo,
They Might Be Giants, Steve Forbert, Nils Lofgren, Chris Whitley,
Freedy Johnston, Joan Osborne, Warren Zevon, Alejandro Escovedo,
Joan Jett, Blue Mountain, The Bottle Rockets, Junior Brown
and others too numerous to mention.
This
latest collection finds the band in fine form, taking up right
where they left off in the studio a year ago. There are ten
new Ray Mason songs, weighted a bit toward alt-country, though
there's still a variety that goes from NRBQ-type bluesy bar
rock to more John Hiatt-ish country-tinged pop, with guitar
accents that extend that range yet further, from Carl Perkins-styled
rockabilly to cool fluid jazz.
Also
included is a nice cover of the superb John Sebastian/Lovin'
Spoonful tune "Didn't Want To Have To Do It." Mason's
soft voice paired with his and Shea's guitar work make this
difficult ballad both smooth and memorable.
The
new CD opens with the infectious "Ring-A-Ling,"
a sweet jangle of guitars mixed in with funky beats to convey
the special feelings of telephone calls to and from a certain
loved one. The song itself recalls simple pleasures and simpler
times - calls were a dime and popular music was melodic and
life was heartwarming. But I digress…
The
title track is one of those you'll find yourself able to sing
along with almost instantly.
Mason has a talent for that kind of accessibility, writing
unpretentious songs that often hinge on basic ideas and astute
observations. "Idiot Wisdom" is another such song,
pointing out the odd truth that if you hang around long enough,
your experience becomes interesting to others: "Who would
ever think that someone somewhere would be up for it all?
/ Idiot wisdom sure makes a man tall."
"Water
Off A Duck" playfully works off a standard blues progression,
bemoaning in a most cheery way, the money woes that beset
the common workingman (and/or woman).
We get wind of the evil landlord, an examination of the phrase
"come hell or high water," and the wisdom of heeding
the platitudes of your friend Roy. This is easy, friendly
fun, and I admire the fortitude involved in resisting an f-word
rhyme.
Following
what could be a Grateful Dead lead-in, "Big Ass Balloon"
launches into a catchy if somewhat obscure song about feeling
alone even amid the crowd. Then again, perhaps I'm just trying
to make sense of nonsensical lyrics - you be the judge: "When
you walk into the quiet room, it's filled with people that're
wall to wall / Swear you couldn't hear an anvil drop, must
be the summer of your fall / My chatter, bring out the ladder,
going up, gonna see ya on the moon / On second thought, let's
put away the ladder, it's leaking like a big ass balloon."
While
the country influence definitely rules the overall tone of
the new CD, most evident is how Ray Mason approaches a lot
of his songwriting from a bass player's perspective. Some
of the songs start with an unadorned riff, and while not all
of the songs have powerful walking basslines, there always
seems to be a strong bass component (handled well by Stephen
Desaulniers).
This
is the case with the bluesy, jazzy journey of "Digging
From The Same Dirt."
The rhythm section drives the song, one that counters someone's
claim to be something special. The point here is that we're
all the same: "Digging from The Same Dirt / we're reaping
from the same plow / Trying on the same shirt / we're drinking
from the same cow / We're digging from the same dirt / we're
digging on the same sounds." The song extends to over
five minutes to allow for guitar leads (some fancy jazz guitar
work by guest Jim Weeks) and drum leads from Frank Marsh.
There's a real sense of live performance here.
Mason
always can find great hooks, and he does so again with "Slippery."
The sound is fun, smooth and easy; the lyrics, playful and
humorous ("your father told you not to play with snake
/ or Uncle Fred when he jumped into the lake"), even
when discussing the heartbreak of letting a slippery love
get away ("People always say how'd you let her get away
/ Let me go hide in the woods.").
Launching
from a fingerpicking start, the country bounce of "Life
Is Full of Missing" shows Mason's skill in turning simple
sounds into something far richer and complex.
The rich guitar fills deliver perfectly here, the lyrics deliver
bittersweet homespun wisdom: "Please don't tell me that
you're gonna go / I was told, but I didn't really know / No
excuse but if you make the break, I'll be broken / Life is
full of missing, two plus four / Never thought of adding up
just one more / Life is full of missing, Three times three
/ When you multiply the pain, life is full of missing."
No Ray Mason Band album is complete without a good barnburner,
and you get that with "When The Ceiling Shakes Hands
With The Floor," a seemingly wry celebration of the comfortable
familiarity of times with friends, laughing at the same old
jokes and stories.
The
halting "Convincingly Mad" walks atop a bass line,
a song discussing one decidedly angry person, sitting in a
dark room, being strange, obstinate and ultimately convincing.
The
CD closes with "Backroad Highway," a song you can
imagine being played live in some crowded roadhouse somewhere.
Here Mason is the poor country boy, begrudging the loss of
his world to another, paying for slices of melon, chain stores
displacing local mom-and-pop shops, gravel replacing dirt
on the roads. He's a firm resister, wondering whether the
moon will be the next thing they take. The performance is
loose and easy, and features some nice guitar work by Tom
Shea.
While
the work of the Ray Mason Band most likely will continue as
under-appreciated and far from trendy, there's no denying
the quality evident in the music. Idiot Wisdom takes
its place among other fine Ray Mason Band releases of recent
years with more accessible, instantly familiar and easy to
listen to music. If you like roots-pop with a country bar-twangy
blues rock edge, you can't go wrong with the good-natured
offerings here.
________________________________________________________________
Hawks
Perfect World Radio
(Not Lame Archives)
Release Date: August, 2003
www.notlame.com
What
if your allotted fifteen minutes of fame came and went, but
you still had several minutes left over, unused? That was
the case with Iowa's fine quintet, Hawks, who were dropped
unceremoniously from their Columbia record deal when their
two respectable releases (1981's self-titled debut and 1982's
30 Seconds Over Otho) didn't propel them far enough
into the sales-equals-success limelight. Shortly after, the
band split up.
As
it turns out, there was a lot more material than ever made
it onto vinyl. This does make sense, considering how four
of the five group members were songwriters (keyboardist Dave
Hearn, bassist Frank Wiewel, and guitarists Dave Steen and
Kirk Kaufman - and not drummer Dolor Larry Adams), often battling
to see whose songs would make the final cut for the finished
studio releases.
Now,
a full two decades later, Not Lame Recordings has come to
the rescue, serving up Perfect World Radio, 16 tracks
of previously unheard Hawks music (originally recorded at
the time of those first two albums, but tracks that never
saw their way to daylight). Some of these barely missed being
on the debut album (and were deemed too "old" when
it was time for the follow-up), some weren't recorded until
after the second album's songs already were chosen, and some
just didn't strike the fancy of some powerful Columbia execs.
What's
most obvious about this excellent collection is that it doesn't
seem in any way a bunch of rejected cast-offs. Instead, you
get a sense of the extreme care that went into creating the
layered sounds, vocals and instrumentations that comprised
any Hawks song.
These guys were perfectionists and, as a result, even their
demos were of exceptionally high quality.
The
CD starts off with a cover of the Hollies' "I'm Alive."
The band is tight, the guitars, harmonies and beats precise
and practiced. In the end, Hawks makes it sound very much
their own.
"Only
Love Is Real" is a bouncy ditty that fits in well with
the new wave songs of that era. What distinguishes it (aside
from the nifty synth hand claps in the end section) is the
complexity of the song. There's a middle bridge, a solo bridge,
a slower section and a different closing section. Well studied
in songwriting craft, as well in as the pop-trade tricks of
that time, Hawks were far from musical dilettantes.
Similar
complexity is found on "The Show Is Over," with
tempo changes and more on what the band considers an under-worked
plain-jane demo. "You Can't Do Any Better Than That"
is another fairly complex winner.
"Laughing"
is an older track by bassist Wiewel, featuring some nice 12-string
Rickenbacker from Steen alongside pleasant harmonies. The
band liner notes on "Goodbye California" tell it
as well as I could: the song marries "Killer Queen"
with "The Things We Do For Love." It's an infectious
song, slick with strong vocals and full of guitars and organ
riffs. The dulcet mid-tempo "Pretty Promises" recalls
some of the more balladic later releases from bands like The
Cars, with a nice slide-guitar bridge.
Remember
that this is a group weaned from a time when popular music
included the likes of Orleans, 10cc and Little River Band,
Hall and Oates and Billy Joel too. So you hear a lot of slick
radio-type singles in what the Hawks had to offer. "Roxanne"
is a fine '70s-style song along those historic lines, but
it didn't get the nod from Columbia folks, merely because
some other band had recorded a song with the same title (I
think it was a trio, if memory serves).
Hearing
"Cold, Gray Part of The World" makes me think I'm
watching some happy montage of people running, laughing, sharing
emotional moments, etc. To my ears, this would be the perfect
hit theme song to some 1980s television show (perhaps because
something in the hook recalls Mary Tyler Moore's theme). Another
opportunity missed, except in my mind perhaps.
Starting almost like a surf-rock song, "Living Inside
Your Love" turns into a very new age "skinny-tie"
song with its stutter beat verses (very "Glass Houses"-era
Billy Joel).
Dolor Larry Adams does some fine drumming on "That's
Right." His work, along with some fine guitar, elevates
this competent "new-wave" song into something far
better. "Pride" shows off the harmonies of the band
well against just about every little sound accent imaginable
(hey someone - answer that phone!).
Also
included here are the three demos that landed the band its
major label record deal ("Right Away," "Need
Your Love," and "It's All Right, It's O.K.").
This was no small accomplishment for some kids out of Fort
Dodge, Iowa.
"I
Don't Understand It" is catchy as heck, and makes one
mutter the title when pondering why Hawks weren't given more
of a chance in the long haul. Seems like they just didn't
fit into any easy category of the times - a bit too eclectic
for mainstream radio and far too slick for the college circuit.
However,
these guys really did write some polished and complex songs.
Perfect World Radio is a delightful showcase of their
talents as pop songwriters, giving you more than enough evidence
to make a strong case that the original two albums should
be re-issued on CD for eagerly curious listeners these many
years later.
________________________________________________________________
Barely
Pink
Last Day of Summer
(Not Lame Recordings)
Release Date: September 16, 2003
www.notlame.com
The
Tampa Bay quartet Barely Pink (named for a lipstick color
mentioned in The Valley of The Dolls) is known for
its hard straight-ahead melodic rock n'roll. Their live performances
draw rave reviews (and any band that can manage the medley
from the closing side of Abbey Road knows their stuff).
On
their third full-length studio effort Last Day of Summer,
they pull together all the requisite rock elements for what
amounts to an enjoyable 10-song lineup that will power its
way into your forever adolescent heart. To me, two of these
elements stand out: the hard-edged vocal stylings of Brian
Merrill and the truly impressive lead guitar work of Mark
Warren. That's not to take anything away from rhythm section
members Michael Hoag (bass) and Stan Arthur (drums), but those
other two really make Barely Pink distinctive and ultimately,
fun to hear. Barely Pink is without irony - this isn't art,
it's rock n' roll - and remembering that adds to an enjoyment
of their music.
Following
in the musical footsteps of Cheap Trick, The Knack, Kiss,
Badfinger, Todd Rundgren and even the great Southern rock
traditions of Lynyrd Skynyrd, Barely Pink wants to get you
either up and dancing, singing along at high volume, or both.
Believing that melody and harmony in rock is coming back,
they deliver perhaps their best set yet.
"Girl
In The Crowd" is a fairly simple plea for closeness to
one certain listener, moderately catchy and clocking in at
just over two minutes. "Do What You Like" features
impressive work from Hoag on bass, and some falsetto vocals
from Merrill on the chorus, on this song that advises "Whatever
makes you happy, do what you like."
In
a similar vein, we get "Sixteen's Gone," employing
falsetto-backup woo-woos, a la Rolling Stones, and a combination
of Merrill vocals and Warren leads that do truly remind one
of Lynyrd Skynyrd at the height of their musical prowess.
"Simple
Enough" is quite infectious, employing tempo changes
(nicely handled by Stan Arthur) and some very emotive vocals
from Merrill about simples lessons never learned and ongoing
rough situations, reflected on from a barstool: "And
the last call sounds like a eulogy / dirty glasses huddle
in conspiracy / and no one here's the wiser, including me."
"Hurt
You Anyless" is a mid-tempo ballad in an early Tom Petty
or John Mellencamp mode. The discussion is a tough relationship,
when more is shared than loving feeling:
"No matter what you say, I'm out the door / don't care
about your pain I've always ignored / well you've got my problems
and I've got yours / if I hurt you any less would you love
me any more."
"Mercury
Girl" is another ballad, slow but sweet and infused with
harmonies, of an elusive love that can't be grasped: "Been
getting lost inside my TV / believing things that don't believe
in me / and every thought of you follows me around the room
/ like a police chase as I try to get away / your love is
quicksilver falling through my hands / you got away again."
With
"Mood Meter Maid," Barely Pink shifts into the manner
of a Cheap Trick or label-mate Shazam, rocking out a tune
espousing the irresistible charms of a woman wearing a badge
and a uniform. "California" builds quietly, showing
Merrill's mastery of the upper register, a song of placing
love dreams and hopes upon a still-distant west coast destination.
While
adept at ballads, rocking out still is what Barely Pink does
best. Witness "Strongest One," where again we're
given a Stones-like falsetto chorus along with some nice lyrical
turns about a college girl "coming undone." Mark
Warren really takes command in the lead here, putting some
great chops on display.
The
CD closes with "Firebug," a track that really serves
to showcase the band's talents. You get tight harmonies, stop
and start segments, great power guitars and that sort of rock
anthem feeling that'll have you waving your lighter for an
encore even as the song fades out.
With
Last Day of Summer, Barely Pink brings a melodic power-pop
edge to a foundation based upon Southern rock. The music is
catchy, the songs are fun, and the quartet executes well.
So while this CD won't likely change anyone's world, it will
(like the actual last day of summer) provide fond memories
to be revisited every now and again.
________________________________________________________________
Lovetap
There's This Girl
(Lovetap Music)
Release Date: May 2, 2003
www.notlame.com
Sometimes
working in retail leads to better things. Take the case of
Omaha, Nebraska's Galen Keith and Gene Sanny, who worked together
in the same store for several years. Keith was a vocalist
for local cover band The Labels. Sanny was a songwriter, and
he'd share tapes of his songs with Keith. They agreed to work
together, if the opportunity arose. It did in 1999, when Sanny's
brother Brian agreed to play bass and a trio was formed. But
things really came together when Keith enlisted the services
of Rob Mendick, former drummer for The Labels.
Each
of the four band members realized they had similar musical
tastes - preferring simple, catchy radio-ready melodies. And
so, with a unified vision and a name denoting how often love
issues define their songs, Lovetap was born.
Their
auspicious full-length debut, There's This Girl, features
eleven polished, well-produced songs that are simple and catchy
and very radio-ready. Keith has a powerful voice well suited
to the music and with the very strong drumming of Mendick,
things hold together well.
"Lemonade"
opens the proceedings -- a light airy confection about how
rough spots in a relationship can take one off one's game.
The solution offered is to walk out the door.
Hard
to gauge which song is the strongest (almost all of them have
"single" potential), but "Beside Myself"
is one of the contenders. It deals with adolescent weltschmerz,
that restless disaffection that turns into hate for everything.
Soundwise, this is very along the lines of post-punk and power-poppers
like Blink-182, Ultimate Fakebook, Jimmy Eat World or the
Canadian Treble Charger - strong beats pounding above powerful
guitars and great vocals.
Depression
and disappointment are the subject matter in the actual first
single "The Wonder's Gone." This mid-tempo ballad
features nice basswork from Brian Sanny, pleasant harmonies,
a wonderful sing-along chorus, and fine keyboard work from
Gene Sanny.
Another
potential radio candidate is "Quiet Josephine,"
another hard-rocking piece of musical fun. Here we are privy
to some of the wonders of the much thought-about Josephine:
"You're the only girl I've ever known that cares about
the real things / like video games and movie lines and who
was Broadway Joe / You're the only one that I would ever trust
with all my feelings / You're the only girl I ever met that
really cared to know." Simple thoughts caught in a catchy
tune - that's Lovetap.
"Wrecked"
is about a guy a bit on edge following being left by his girl
(snapping at friends, etc). "The Pain" is about
providing friendship and guidance to one beset by problems.
"Call Me Crazy" is an upbeat accusation of one who
is lonely and lying about it.
Lovetap
goes retro in the pleasing "Please," an early 1960s-ish
sounding tune somewhat reminiscent of the Dusty Springfield
hit "I Only Want To Be With You." You need strong
vocals to pull off this type of song, and Galen Keith manages
to do it justice and then some.
There
are yet more relationship troubles set to music in "Neverfly."
After two months and a day, he gives up on her because she
"is psycho." The tables turn in "My Everything,"
and this time, the narrator has been ditched: "I just
lost my everything / now I don't have anything / I just lost
my everything and no one cares." Ah, young love...
Easily
the most poignant song here is "Kayla," inspired
from the real life incident when a first-grader from Michigan
was killed by her classmate. The CD comes with a bonus DVD
that includes a very touching and well-done video for this
anti-school violence song.
Also
on that bonus DVD is a live performance of "Quiet Josephine,"
as well as band interviews. This too is high quality. You'll
find yourself doubting that this is their first release.
Gene
Sanny has a gift for writing instantly accessible songs that
invite singing along, and stay with you long after the CD
stops. I might argue that he could aim higher with some of
the lyrics (some run toward the insipid at times), but it's
all part of the young angst that fuels the music. And, truly,
it works.
Lovetap's
There's This Girl is a promising collection that will
garner attention from people who like hook-filled guitar-driven
power pop and should ensure that they won't remain an indie
secret for very much longer.
______________________________________________________________
The
Boris Flats
The Sunshine Imperative
(Boris-Tone Multimedia)
Release Date: October 3, 2003
www.notlame.com
The
Boris Flats are back and dishing up a healthy serving of musical
variety (it really is the spice of life) that will mesmerize,
confound and at times, amaze. They - the Boris Flats basically
being the overtly talented multi-instrumentalist songwriter/performers
Van Norris-Jones and Geoff Webb - manage the difficult feat
of being both derivative and eclectically original, often
within even the short space of a single song.
The
Sunshine Imperative is as essential as the CD's demanding
title implies, for sheer breadth of accomplishment alone.
The music here spans an incredible range, and listing all
possible references could take up an entire afternoon. I will
name a few that seem more obvious to my ears, but I'm sure
one could expand that list exponentially.
These musical chameleons have a penchant for taking disparate
elements, mixing them into something new and infectious and
pop (of various shades and tones), then topping it off with
a song title that's never predictable and sometimes downright
mysterious.
The
good thing is that, even if you hate a certain track, you
may love the next one. And vice versa. There's that kind of
range, the size of which no major record label would likely
allow on one CD. So go for the gusto before some major discovers
these Hampshire lads and pigeonholes them stylistically. Right
now, it's all here for the adventurous listener to explore
- humor and melancholy, sunshine and darkness, an expansive
mélange.
The
CD opens with "Gumball," a four-and-a-half minute
piece of sweet celebration of life and innocence. Our protagonist
chooses a "comic book in sunshine" kind of alternative
reality, scaling walls and climbing trees: "It's you
and me / you put me in a world of sun and harmony / I'm refusing
to get real because we all know how that feels / and I'm never
going back / I'm laughing out of context at everything they
say." The music is a sunny as the message. There is lightness
and harmony here, aptly fading into the voices of children
playing.
The
title track "The Sunshine Imperative (Down Is Up, Up
Is Down and Down Is All Around)" veers heavily into the
realm of the psychedelic, rife with sitars and reverb and
reverse guitars and tabla-like rhythms. The lyrics espouse
a sort of "flower-child" philosophy, summers sleeping
late and staring deeply and wishing and "waiting for
a better place than now." This fades into a brief instrumental
entitled "Himbo in Limbo."
"Ejector
Seat" returns us into the world of sunny pop, perhaps
even going back a few decades or more. This pleasant track
grows better with repeated listens, chock full of subtle hooks
and harmonies and the lyrics only make it more of a keeper.
This is the tale of a man held hostage in a relationship,
strapped in tight by the other's decrees, and of his wonderful
escape via ejector seat: "Though I love you I can live
without you / ejector seat please work for me / push me through
the roof and smiling / up into a brand new world." Musically,
it's a jaunty bouncy guitar base upon which you get early
1960s harmonies, a la The Association, deft bass lines, organ,
handclaps, a mid-song break in which it goes back to acoustic
guitar that build alongside the sound of a jet, then folds
into a Crosby, Stills, Nash harmony-filled coda that recalls
"Suite: Judy Blue Eyes."
"Smug"
opens with retro-harmonic background sounds as well, but comes
across as a musical cross-pollination between They Might Be
Giants (John Linnell) and Hawksley Workman. This is extreme
fun right up to the final attempt at a trumpet's blow, a censure
of those types of people that plan out their lives (or have
them planned for them): You're young, clean and rich / don't
be old, poor and dirty / while the tax can be a bitch / you
can retire when you reach thirty / and showbiz buddies gather
round and pay tribute to all that you've achieved."
It's
a dip into Elton John territory with the song "Aquamarine,"
a poetic ballad of a possibly ended relationship, and how
love makes all simple things complex.
This
is fairly traditional stuff placed beside "One Thousand
Nimmos (From The Social Contract to The Sky, The Horizon and
The Mountains," which is like an instrumental soundtrack
with narration (by Sarah Radford). Musically, it starts with
drums that could be from an old "George of the Jungle"
soundtrack, followed by Bela Fleck-like banjo, and a nature
poem narrative that could fit comfortably in some Moody Blues
CD. The piece is eclectic, but entrancing.
This
is in marked contrast to the mellow folk-like sensibility
of "St. Ursula Grove, " which features some nice
pedal steel work from guest Nick Evans.
The
likely single here is the uber-catchy "Geezerworld,"
venturing a slight bit into the world of dance/electronica
with its cool percussive synth organ bass accents and samples.
With verses that sound something like an old Madness song,
this complex tune stays with you longer than unexpected houseguests,
and is far better company. Lyrically, it provides an apt dissection
of the modern man: "No lies, no prize all pride and none
the wiser / No ties, won't take the rise and still none the
wiser / He swears to you that he has changed (right from the
start) / but you've heard it all before." An extended
version of "Geezerworld" closes the CD.
The
Boris Flats go late-era Beatle-ish on "Blisspig,"
with a "Come And Get It" piano intro that quickly
morphs into the full Lennon-esque treatment on verse and chorus.
This is a wonderful musical love letter from Wolverine to
Blisspig (talk about your pet names): "I'll never love
another so mysterious and beautiful as you."
The
instrumental "Phat Atom" is more trance/electronica/sampling
that sounds like a cross between soundtracks of movie and
video game. It mixes beats, spaghetti western elements a la
Ennio Morricone, John Barry and Angelo Badalamenti, psychedelic
bits a la Olivia Tremor Control and others from the Elephant
Six collective, and again, even some traces of early They
Might Be Giants.
The
other pure instrumental, "It Doesn't Have To End This
Way (excerpt)," is more of a strict soundtrack piece,
bells and synth strings giving it a definite holiday feel,
even in its relative brevity.
"I
Love U More" delves into the 1980s synth sounds (think
Spandau Ballet, Gary Numan, even Human League) and mixes that
with a touch of Burt Bacharach in the arranging. This love
song trades on the trance-like synthesizer effects.
"The
Jack and Danii Show" is a tale of risqué openness
in the wild pierced downtown scene of this pair's world "where
you can do anything and conversely, anything can be done to
you." Needless to say, things are not all they seem.
Just
when you think The Boris Flats have exhausted their stylistic
bag of tricks, they show you another. "Holiday Cheese"
is a flat-out guitar-driven rocker in the style of vintage
new-wave era Squeeze (and many others).
When
all is said and done, you'll find traces of XTC, Wondermints,
Guided by Voices, Flaming Lips, Captain Beefheart and many
more. As I mentioned earlier, you could compile quite a list.
The thing is, the end product is good, a truly breathtaking
mix of so much from what is essentially a two-man musical
circus. This is admirable and intelligent adult pop that achieves
its own identity amid all the obvious influences, where similar
efforts by others usually fall short.
The
songs of The Sunshine Imperative are memorable, their
variety breath taking. Since there's a lot to handle here,
one might do best to listen in segments - say, divide the
offerings in half to give yourself more chance to focus on
individual tracks. The wide array of styles and instruments
almost insures you won't love all of it, but conversely, you'll
probably find much you will adore.
Ultimately,
if you invest the time to unleash the eclectic wonders of
The Sunshine Imperative, you'll be well rewarded. This
unusually wide-ranging collection definitely is a big aural
wow.
________________________________________________________________
The
Trouble Dolls
Sticky
(Half A Cow Records)
Release Date: October 15, 2003
www.troubledolls.com
Their
website boldly proclaims their only musical commandment: "They
shalt not write a song longer than 3 minutes. In this, their
debut CD, Brooklyn's own The Trouble Dolls stay true to their
dicta, serving up 11 fun pop songs in just a blink over 28
minutes. But it's all about quality, not time consumption,
right?
The
Trouble Dolls began when three friends decided to start a
band. None of the three were musicians then: Matty was reviewing
records, Cheri was designing graphics for a television news
network and Michael was pitching television scripts to agents.
At
first Cheri played drums and Matty and Michael played acoustic
guitar. A fourth friend Andy played "pretend bass"
on the low strings of his guitar. Songs were written and later
performed at New York's Sidewalk Café. It was a humble
start.
Ultimately,
Andy moved on, and when Michael sold a TV script, he too departed
the scene. Matty Karas and Cheri Leone soon transformed The
Trouble Dolls into a proper band. Singer Cheri made the move
from behind the kit to out front with her Casios and a Moog,
and Gabe Rhodes was enlisted as a drummer. More songs were
written, rehearsed and eventually recorded, with friend Evan
Silverman (from The Rosenbergs) lending support on bass.
As
the album was nearing completion, Pam Weis joined the group
as its official bass player (she appears on the album doing
harmonies only). Since the album was recorded, yet more changes
have taken place. Gabe now is playing guitar alongside Matty
and someone named Chris has become the new drummer. Confused?
It's all rather simple - but let's talk about the music.
Matty
and Cheri have written and produced a fine collection of songs.
The CD opens with the very infectious and upbeat "7:05,"
a song about awakening that manages a subtle reference to
Big Star. Gabe's drums and Evan's bass lines pave the way
for this catchy little ditty, which includes requisite handclaps.
A
tribute to The Trouble Dolls' bubblegum roots as well as the
Japanese fascination with this music, "Japanese Gum"
sports a chorus that is as catchy as it is semi-annoying.
Another lighter "bubblegum" song is "Your Love
Is The Sunshine," all bubbly optimism except for the
contrasting screeching vocals in the surprising counter-chorus.
It's
not all bubblegum here. There's a darker side to the lightness.
Witness the starkness of the song "Invitation,"
urging all caution be thrown to the wind with such demands
as "fuck me with no protection / kiss me with morning
breath."
The
title song finds the band in post punk mode, having a great
time with an energetic guitar-driven track that begs to be
danced along with. While "Marcelle" is about putting
an end to an ill-fated relationship with a club-hopping, egocentric
celebrity-seeker: "I don't know what the rules are in
this strange little world / where every little thing revolves
around you / Marcelle, the pleasure's all yours and the pain
is mine / Marcelle, I don't want to waste your time."
Cheri
Leone's fine vocals are a standout, and they make "I
Don't Know Anything At All" a great success. You get
the sense of her confusion, waiting and watching late night
news and ultimately giving up trying.
My
personal favorite here is the sweet ballad "Something
Blue Amazed Me." Here Leone's voice displays more range,
sounding a bit like Sam Phillips at times, drawing you in
with the song's visceral poetic imagery ("like corn on
fire," "like dawn on my clothes").
Another
upbeat treat is "I Finally Figured Out" (Karas gets
some vocals in here, but again it is Leone who steals the
show), another infectious tune with lyrics that don't really
tell us what is figured out, but rather all of the things
we know it's not. I guess the point is to keep us guessing.
"Meeting
On The Side" is a bit of a departure, a more complexly
structured composition that veers a way from the traditional
verse/chorus pop norm. Leone's vocals make it work, though,
as you follow her lead.
The
closer "December" is a short but sweet bit of pleasantness,
couched in sleigh bells and harmonies (with Mark Bacino on
backing vocals), and offering optimism for a new year ahead.
Sticky
is an auspicious debut from a band that takes itself seriously
enough, but never too much so. Karas, Leone and company are
growing as songwriters, and while the playful songs still
work well, there's a growing sense from the quality of the
slower, deeper songs here that a more serious future lies
ahead, in the best possible sense.
____________________________________________________
To
reach any other page contained in this month's update on Fufkin.com,
read the home page for the appropriate link and click on it.
You can also search the site from any page using the search
box located at the top of each page. Merely type in the word,
phrase, name of the band, recording, name of the Fufkin writer
that you are looking for or Whatever in the search box, and
then click on "Search". If you would like to e-mail
us, go to the About Us page for a list of e-mail addresses.
Go
back to the home page by clicking
here
______________________________________________________
|
