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Nick A. Zaino,
III's Reviews: 12/00
Scroll
down for reviews of The Ass Ponys, The Guthries and Laika
and The Cosmonauts
The
Jayhawks
Paradise
Rock Club
Boston,
Massachusetts
November 12, 2000
If there had been any question that
the Jayhawks had lost faithful fans with their latest, pop-oriented
album “Smile”, they were laid to rest at the Paradise Sunday
night. Before guitarist/singer Gary Louris could even plug
in his instrument, he recognized several fans in the front
row from a previous show. They screamed when he asked if he’d
seen them before. And just before the band tore into “Settled
Down Like Rain” from their seminal Hollywood Town Hall,
someone yelled out, “Mark Olson sucks”, referring to the former
Jayhawk and current Harmony Creek Dipper. Louris either didn’t
hear it or brushed it aside.
And if their had be any speculation that the Jayhawks had
lost their muscle, Louris proved it unfounded with his guitar
heroics. Normally laid-back tunes like “Somewhere in Ohio”
and “Queen of the World” were drenched in Hendrix-style feedback,
and “Sister Cry” was drawn out into an extended guitar jam
a la Neil Young’s “Down By the River”. During one solo, Louris
climbed on top of his amp and, lost in the moment, drooled
a little on the way back down. Even “I’m Gonna Make You Love
Me”, the hit that’s been making the round on the adult contemporary
stations, was fired up as mandolin and acoustic guitar were
replaced by Louris’s twelve-string electric.
And though Louris was unquestionably the center of attention,
the rest of the band played well and seemed to be having the
time of their lives. Drummer Tim O’Reagan contributed lead
and harmony vocals, doing an admirable job with Olsen’s old
parts. The harmonies, which also included keyboard player
Jen Gunderman, sounded tight and powerful, even though they
were fighting through a muddy vocal mix. Guitarist Kraig Johnson
looked continually bemused, and took his turn at the mike
for a surprise Young’s “Sedan Delivery”. Even bass player
Marc Perlman broke his cool from time to time, smiling and
singing along.
The encore felt more like a second set, as the band stretched
it to nearly an hour. If the club had been able to stay open
later, they would have kept playing. The crowd sang along
with old favorites like “Blue” and “Take me With You (When
You Go)”, and quited down for newer, mellower tunes like “Broken
Harpoon”. They even played along when the band launched into
Eric Carmen’s “All By Myself”. Somewhere around midnight,
the band ran to the finish line with a pumped up version of
“Baby, Baby, Baby” that saw Louris playing his solo while
riding around on a roadie’s back. When they finally left the
stage, it looked like they wanted to come back. No one would
have complained.
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Ass
Ponys
Some Stupid With a Flare Gun
Checkered Past Records
Back in 1988, the Ass Ponys took their name from the bottom
of a list of band names compiled by their first drummer. They
figured they’d change it later when they could think of something
better. They must not have thought anyone would remember it.
Flash forward twelve years, to the release of Some Stupid
With a Flare Gun, the band’s sixth album. The band has
survived and prospered, making friends in the music community
from the Afghan Whig’s John Curley, who co-produced their
first album, to Northampton, Massachusetts’ rock and roll
legend-in-residence Ray Mason. They’ve won critical acclaim
from pop culture guru Greil Marcus and New York Times critic
Neil Strauss. Not bad for a great little rock band from Cincinnati.
The Ass Ponys aren’t quite an institution – they’ve never
had the mainstream support for that. But they started out
with a Crazy Horse attitude and have never let up in their
pursuit of sinewy rock and gothic, American stories. Some
Stupid With a Flare Gun is no exception. Lead singer Chuck
Cleaver’s wavering tenor recalls Neil Young’s vulnerability
and bravado, set off from a musical landscape painted in broad
strokes in the tradition of Built to Spill or Dinosaur Jr.
On “Astronaut”, guitarist John Erhardt’s angular riffing draws
the tune into a catchy pop chorus, and back out again, never
settling too comfortably with the melody or the riff. The
band is also capable of producing great, dark moments, as
in the tale of suicide and denial in “Pretty As You Please”,
where every character is holding and stroking either a knife,
a gun, or an axe in each of the three verses.
Cleaver’s
voice and imagery tend to steal the show, but the band steps
front and center on “Love Tractor”, a shifting, three-minute
instrumental that at times raises the specters of Pink Floyd
and Edgar Winter with Erhardt’s meandering lead guitar, Randy
Cheek’s droning bass, and Cleaver’s chunky rhythm guitars.
Drummer Dave Morrison also deserves a lot of credit for finding
creative ways to drive the song, moving from a simple beat
when needed to press snare rolls and clacking away at the
rims and beating a cow bell. In instrumentals, the drummer
always ends up with more of the listener’s focus than usual,
and Morrison displayed great taste, restraint, and ability
to groove.
There are some more restrained moments on the album. The band
lets up a little on ballads like “Your Amazing Life” and “Casper’s
Coming Home”, just enough to let the listener relax and breathe
in the melancholy. But the swagger, and a healthy sense of
humor, are never far behind. Cleaver manages to name-drop
Scatman Crothers, Moms Mabley, and Frank Langella in the same
song on “X-Tra Nipple”, claiming all three were fascinating
because of their spare appendages (I can’t imagine that they
share all that much more in common). What more could you ask
for in an album?
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The
Guthries
Off Windmill
Brobdingnagian Records
The
Guthries seem to want to outdo the Jayhawks by proving that
great alt.country music can me made even further north than
Minnesota. This sextet from Nova Scotia has produced a fine
debut in “Off Windmill”, showing off a breadth and range that
should help them stick around for a while. The first track,
“Better Part of an Hour”, is, coincidentally, reminiscent
of the Hollywood Town Hall-era Jayhawks. And that’s
a great way to start. With its toe-tapping rhythm and laid-back
harmonies, it would fit in nicely between “Sister Cry” and
“Take Me With You (When You Go)”. Any band that allows me
to say that has my attention.
Still, Hollywood Town Hall is a legendary album, and
I don’t want to saddle the Guthries with having to live up
to that (few bands could). Throughout the rest of the album,
the Guthries establish a good mix of styles and sounds. “Wednesday
Night” introduces singer Ruth Minnikin’s languid, Natalie
Merchant-like vocals. Minnikin shares vocal duties with Matt
Mays and Dale Murray, a blend that helps keep things fresh
without too jarring a change. Each have their own pitch and
tenor, and bring something slightly different to the table
without calling too much attention to a shift form one singer
to another. It also helps that most members of the band swap
instruments, with different players covering banjo, mandolin,
pedal steel, organ, harmonica, and accordion at different
times. Guest players also help to round out the sound, as
with the mariachi trumpets on “Wednesday Night” or the strings
on “Pure Calm”.
It
all adds up to a band that can move easily from lush pop filled
with gorgeous steel, like “Deep Blue”, to the guitar crunch
and jangle of “Suited”, to a more down home, banjo pickin’
sound on “Harbor Queen”. But it all still sounds like The
Guthries. Off Windmill is a good find, if you can dig it up.
Check out www.theguthries.net
for your best chance at picking up the CD.
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Laika
& the Cosmonauts
Absurdistan
Yep
Roc Records
You
wouldn’t think surf music would be big in Finland. You wouldn’t
necessarily picture Frankie and Annette hanging ten on the
cool waves of the Gulf of Bothnia, or Dick Dale ripping up
Helsinki. But Laika & the Cosmonauts would like to change
your mind. Being the instrumental surf kings of Finland may
be a dubious honor, but this band is diverse and energetic
enough to make you wonder if there isn’t a great scene lurking
somewhere over there.
From “Disconnected”, the first track of Absurdistan,
it’s clear that the band is more than a bunch of retroheads,
or a European band longing for an American niche. Their appreciation
for surf music is deep, but it doesn’t stop them from throwing
in traces of electronica, industrial, pop, Texas blues, funk,
or country. And their sense of humor shows through, as in
the hard-edged tune “Look! No Head!”, which sounds like a
lost collaboration between Rammstein and the Ventures. “Circumstantial
Evidence” starts off with a laid-back, Steely Dan groove before
bouncing back and forth between that deep Fender reverb sound
and keyboards and chimes. “The Freefaller” takes its cues
from 60s pop, complete with a Farfisa organ that would make
Matthew Sweet drool. This is the band’s fifth American release,
but Laika & the Cosmonauts are likely to get a lot of press
as a novelty act. Don’t believe it. This band is the real
thing.
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Nick's
Reviews: November, 2000
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