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INDEX TO REVIEWS
"L" - moe.
"L" - moe. "L." The name. A tongue-in-cheek tribute to the band's listserv, the MOE-L? An abbreviation for the first live album the band has released in nearly four years? The album. A tribute to improvisational rock and roll at its finest. Far from a teasing abbreviation, this is the real thing, a double-disc album that finally captures what studio releases from the band have been missing all along, something that can be summed up in one word, perhaps even one letter: LIVE. Somewhere on "L" between the initial harmonies of Spine of a Dog and the spiraling last notes of Recreational Chemistry lies the essence of moe., a band that thrives on the potential of each and every moment. With the album's release, this moment can and will last forever. The "Quest for Ray Tour," starting off at the beginning of the fall of 1999 and titled in reference to the band's first drummer, Ray Schwartz, was perhaps the perfect time for moe. to compile material for an upcoming live recording. After sluggishly moving through the "No Hard Feelings Tour" of the spring of 1999 in perhaps their least satisfying outing to date and traveling around the nation as part of "Summer Sessions," the band had finally adjusted to the re-addition of Jim Loughlin to the lineup as a percussionist and was even utilizing Jim's various talents to benefit the music without limiting its flexibility, as had been occurring at earlier points in the year. There existed the option of going back into the studio, especially considering the large number of unrecorded songs in the band's repertoire, but despite the successes of past releases, there always remained a sense of awkwardness in the band's studio material, something fans certainly took into consideration when they started vocalizing their desire for a live album. The band's only other live album is 1996's "Loaf," which while capturing some of the band's biggest songs in their infancy also suffered from inferior recording quality and extremely limited distribution, evidenced by the fact that copies of "Loaf" are currently being auctioned for $250 and above on E-BAY. The material that ultimately has appeared on L was recorded at four of the country's best rock venues, including the 9:30 Club in Washington, D.C.; the Boulder Theater in Boulder, Colorado; the House of Blues in Los Angeles, California; and the Fillmore in San Francisco, California. In addition, the band brought in the mixing and producing assistance of one of the country's best album engineers, John Siket, acclaimed for his work with Dave Matthews Band, Phish, and Yo La Tengo. There are three things that are immediately striking upon listening to "L": its length, its sound, and its diversity. Both discs of the album hover around the seventy minute mark, marking for a near three hours of original music. In the process of putting together the album, the band did not refrain from making long songs shorter and short songs longer, as epitomized by the contrast between the stretched out Spine of a Dog and condensed Meat. Nor did they refrain from filling the ending of the second disc of the album with an approximately forty-two minute Timmy Tucker > Recreational Chemistry. The album's sound, above all else, is what separates "L" from any other live recording being spread in mass to listeners old and new. As long-time members of the MOE-L Wayne and Catherine Gucker comment, "The clarity and separation of the guitars is astonishing. Even those of us with many hours of listening under our belt will find new things to hear in the mix; there's a lot more going on than you could imagine. The production team has topped themselves this time." The extraordinary mix especially benefits Jim's various percussion parts and Al's rhythm parts, essential layers of the band's sound that too often go without notice and admiration. The most striking feature of "L" is undoubtedly the diversity in the music it contains. While the jamband community in general is known for the diversity offered by the unique sounds of each band, few of the bands themselves contain the diversity in their songwriting and performing that moe. has developed. Just the fact that songs as remarkably distinct at Can't Seem To Find and Seat of My Pants can be juxtaposed on an album testifies to this point. Similarly, in compiling the material for this album the band covered the full gamut of its musical history. "L" features two songs that originally appeared on 1992's "Fatboy," four songs from 1994's "Headseed," three songs from 1996's "Loaf," one song from 1998's "Tin Cans and Car Tires," and finally two brand new, previously unreleased songs in Can't Seem To Find and Captain America. The album appropriately begins with Spine of a Dog, one of the first songs written by the band and containing a harmonized vocal introduction that is perhaps, along with the chorus refrain of Rebubula, the most recognizable and defining part of moe. and their music. The band surprisingly nails the vocal introduction, with neither Al, Rob, or Chuck falling out before or after the standard five repetitions of "You say potato and I say three," making you wonder whether there were in fact vocal overdubs done later in the studio (note sarcasm). Immediately into the instrumental start of the song, Jim's percussion part can be clearly heard, which adds an extra dimension to the song not found on any of its earlier recordings. This added element is emphasized in a short drum and percussion solo later in the song. The song continues out of the final chorus into a jam at times resembling sections of Phish's Run Like an Antelope, and in fact Run Like An Antelope has in the past been strongly teased during this portion of the song. The jam is led by Al, whose guitar part goes in aimless circles at times and comes across with sharp, spirited guitar riffs at others, until reaching its crescendo assisted by Chuck's guitar interplay. Chuck takes over the guitar lead bringing an emphasis and confidence to the part that was previously lacking. Finally, the jam softens out as it begins its segue into Buster. While Spine of a Dog > Buster is certainly a common pairing, there was some surprise that the more traditional Jazz Wank > Buster didn't make it onto the album, being perhaps the most common segue in moe.'s artillery. Additionally, Jazz Wank has yet to be put out on an official release by the band while this marks the third appearance of Spine of a Dog. In any case, the oncoming Buster is increasingly hinted at by Rob's bouncy bass line and the high hat beat in the background. This is perhaps the greatest thing about any segue and introduction into Buster: you know it's coming. The progression, especially when gradual, is all about the heightening energy: the bass line backed by the ongoing high hat, the softly throttling guitars, the first shriek from Chuck's guitar followed by the composed introduction, Chuck's captivating vocal howls, and finally there it is, "BUSTER!!!" The strength of any given version of Buster, of course, always depends on the Chuck solo, which I often describe as having the superman/superpig effect in that the solo has always evoked images of Buster, our heroic hog, mustering all his little strength to burst into the sky. The solos progression follows like a children's book, in which our Buster keeps repeating "I can fly, I can fly" over and over again with more confidence each time until he finally reaches his resolution, "I can fly!" and goes for it. Does he succeed? I've always though the ending of Chuck's guitar solo to contain a sense of flight to it, but perhaps I'm just overly optimistic. This particular Chuck solo falls short of some of his searing Buster solos in the past, marked by lots of noodling and little of the lyrical, robust guitar notes his admirers have come to glorify him for. The solo as a whole doesn't seem to gain purpose until it is forced to by the momentum of the song. It is a disappointment not so much because it is a weak solo, but because so much can and has been done by Chuck, who has consistently gotten better with age to the point where many fans consider him their favorite guitarist in a jamband scene that includes such greats as Jon Gutwillig, Stevie Kimock, Jimmy Herring, Jorma Kaukonen, Warren Haynes, and Trey Anastasio. As I can be quoted for once saying, "Chuck might be Satan, but he's a guitar God." This was the one track on the album most suited for Chuck to bring out his guitar mastery. Unfortunately, this doesn't happen. While Spine of a Dog > Buster is a solid, respectable recording, both songs leave something to be desired in the sufficient but not superb guitar solos coming respectively from Al and Chuck, especially considering this is a live album compiled form several night and multiple takes of different songs. I, for one, would have preferred a searing version of Four taken from one of the nights of recording, which as Chuck's most notable song was surprisingly left off of the album. Upon first viewing the track listing for "L," there were a number of songs whose inclusion I was somewhat skeptical about, especially because these songs have been officially released before and tend not to vary much from performance to performance. However, after listening to "L," I became more assured that these songs deserve a spot on the album. Even tracks that I still feel are unnecessary I have come to at least respect as having an influence on the overall impact of the album. The first such track was Seat of My Pants, which has already been released in live form on "Loaf." After some thought I realized that the limited availability of "Loaf" and the number of now hardcore fans who were sucked into moe. after hearing Seat of My Pants justified its inclusion on the album. The fact that this is an incredibly rocking version of the song doesn't hurt, either. The track starts off with an extended segment of chaotic distortion, noise, and feedback that tells you either Seat of My Pants or Akimbo is coming. On the first disc, it's Seat of My Pants. The outstanding quality of Seat of My Pants is its ability to switch back and forth between different musical genres, fast and slow tempos, and loudness and silence, as well as its overall nonsensical lyrics. Chuck absolutely rips up the heavy metal jam while Rob bombards all in sight with his downright vicious bass part. By no means is this "jamband" material, this is balls to the wall rock and roll. I was also iffy about the inclusion of Plane Crash, which has earned the name Lame Crash from fans sick of hearing it played show after show with little or no change in its structure. Whatever you have come to call it, the live version of the song, without the orchestration present on the album, gives a true representation of the anthem for which frat boys around the nation love moe.. In addition, this particular version has a certain uniqueness, at least for Plane Crash, and is perhaps one of the best takes on the song that I have ever seen live, being that I was lucky enough to catch the shows at the 9:30 Club. Most notable is the song's main jam, picked up and led by Al. One of the awesome things about Plane Crash is how Al incorporates an almost country style guitar part into the main jam of an all-out rock anthem. As the solo intensifies his guitar part inevitably gains the airy, soaring, volant feel to it, aided by Rob's bouncy bass line, that makes it the rock anthem that it is. In this particular version Al approaches the body of this solo with much similarity to how Chuck approaches his solos, though on his own terms, utilizing the full range of musical ideas, switching on and off between bursts of guitar and restraint, and paying attention to both the incline and decline of the jam. This, above all else, makes this a distinguished version of a song that is more often than not undistinguished, and is therefore a worthwhile inclusion on the album. Akimbo and Saint Augustine are probably the least necessary songs on "L." Nevertheless, both contain positive points of interest. Akimbo starts off with a very distinctive soundscape introduction, backed by the theme of Voodoo Child. This is much more sedate but just as riveting as the distortion that leads into Seat of My Pants, and suggest that perhaps instrumental noise is the hidden talent of moe., being demonstrated twice on this album and quite often in concert (listen to the band's work after Plane Crash on 10/30/99 for an excellent example). Noteworthy is Chuck's slowed down verse:
"C'mon baby, you know what I like A hilarious example of the band's banter inserted into their music. Hopefully this foreshadows a future live album consisting of the band's most classic banter. The guitar licks exchange between Al and Chuck is fairly standard and not that different from the album version, though the added percussion is, once again, very effective. "L" marks the third release of Sai nt Augustine, but the first to feature this Allman-esque slide guitar part, which perhaps has become the best part of the song. However, Saint Augustine allows only so much exploration, and the band can only do so much with what they're given. It's for this reason that I strongly question the song's inclusion on the album. "L" features two brand new, previously unreleased songs that were debuted in 1999. Can't Seem To Find was debuted in front of forty thousand or so at Woodstock '99. The song, written by Al, falls in the vein of such classic artists as Neil Young and such contemporary bands as Wilco and Son Volt, all of whom he readily admires. Al clearly let his country rock sentiments flow when writing this sweet and mournful tune, and he successfully attains the authenticity, character, and quality of the songs written by such aforementioned artists. Above all else, Can't Seem To Find is a testament to Al's songwriting and the band's music diversity. This recording of the song is, for the most part, effective. The clash of guitars with no discernible lead in the instrumental section produces the desired result. Al perhaps goes slightly too far in his solo, suddenly breaking out riffs seemingly from Mexico or Moth. On such a short, sweet song, this comes off as a bit unnecessary. Captain America is a catchy new Rob song which can be describe in no other way than saying that it's a rock song, and an incredible, powerful rock song at that. Don't be surprised if you start hearing this one on the radio sooner or later. Since its debut, Captain America has often been paired with a segue into Recreational Chemistry, thus producing a mind-boggling treat that has come to be known as Captain Chemistry (sort of like Captain Crunch, I guess). Many were surprised this Captain Chemistry combination didn't make it onto "L," especially since it was performed on many of the nights from which the album was compiled. As opposed to the usually extended takes of the song in Captain Chemistry, this version is very tight, if not even lacking energy. Chuck's compressed solo, Rob's often incoherent and rushed lyrics, and the shortened vocal build up at the end fail a song of such quality and leave much to be desired in this version. It would be a huge misfortune if this song never makes it into the studio, where it can be polished in preparation for a possible release as a single. Yodelittle is far and away the most exceptional track on "L." Considered by many to be moe.'s most psychedelic song, it was never done full justice on "Fatboy" or "Headseed," and "L" emphasizes this by accomplishing live what these albums failed to do in the studio. The song's introduction is profoundly brilliant, reminiscent of the night's shifting stars or a body tossing endlessly in sleep. Chuck's guitar starts out with an almost trumpet-like effect, backed by the growling sounds of Jim on didgeridoo and Vinnie intensifying the high-hat tempo and overall restlessness that characterizes the song's onset. The song's first jam features great scat from Chuck at the outset of his guitar solo, which is backed throughout by stalwart rhythm guitar support from Al. It reaches its climax with remarkable use of dissonance by Al and Chuck. The second jam starts with bass effects backed by dizzying tension and release in the drums and percussion section as the band moves towards interstellar regions. What follows is so musically profound and poignant as to make it almost impossible to put into words. While moe. can and does often fall into traditional rock solo jamming in certain songs, this jam epitomizes what truly improvisational jamming is all about. When moe. pulls this off, as they do here, few if any contemporary bands are in the same league as them. The listener can sense complete, total interaction between band members moving towards unknown space as a bold, experimental unit, as one. This is some of the best live material ever released by a jamband, following in the tradition of music as intrepid as moments off of the Grateful Dead's "Live/Dead". Needless to say, this track alone warrants the purchase of this album. With the Meat on "L," I might as well cut right to the impending controversy. This is an eight minute Meat, nearly half the length of the 14:05 Meat on "Loaf" and nearly one-sixth the length of the legendary 46:10 single. The Sai nt Augustine featured on "L" is longer than Meat, which is as close as you can get to blasphemy in the world of moe.. At best one might expect a Meat that is perhaps more accessible to those of us with shorter attention spans. At worst, one might predict an all out veggie burrito. However, neither of these assumptions hold out to be correct, and the inferior penile dictum that "it's not the size that counts, but how you rock the boat" has never held more truth. This version of Meat rages, as if all 46:10 were stuffed into a soup can and left on stage to detonate. The sound is superb, with the guitars literally ringing in the introduction. All the solos are short but explode with energy, as the band members jump right into their solos and fire right through them. The short percussion and bass section, which leads into a Rob slap bass solo, shows how effective a focus on percussion can when limited from over-indulgence and used sparingly. Don't be fooled by the initial appearance of this Meat. As already mentioned, the album concludes with a forty-two minute Timmy Tucker > Recreational Chemistry, recorded on 10/8/99 at the 9:30 Club, filling up a majority of the space on the second disc of "L." For those stat geeks keeping track, this was the first time ever that Timmy Tucker segued into Recreational Chemistry, a bit of a surprise considering how long these songs have been around and how often they tend to appear in segues. Perhaps this was an attempt to emphasize an element of genuine spontaneity on the album? Timmy Tucker is the longest track to appear on the album, timing in at twenty-three minutes. Overall, the main body of Timmy Tucker is somewhere between solid and spectacular, not being the most noteworthy version ever but also leaving its mark on the recording, and not just in time. The segue into Recreational Chemistry, on the other hand, finds moe. at its best in spontaneous improvisation, creating a theme from scratch and using it as a vehicle for musical transition. This theme builds off a constant, slowed bass line that Rob creates in the void left after Timmy Tucker. Once Al and Chuck pick up on the theme over Rob, he morphs the bass part and gradually brings it towards Recreational Chemistry territory while Al starts playing Rec recreational Chemistry like themes. Finally, Rob picks up the tempo and we're into Recreational Chemistry. Few bands segue with the proficiency that moe. does, and this section of the recording stands as evidence. Recreational Chemistry was voted on the MOE-L as the most important song of 1999; it's inclusion on "L" is only suiting. Much of its importance, interesting enough to note, has already been fulfilled as the endpoint of the segue out of Timmy Tucker. Al's vocals sounds incredible in the mix of Recrea tional Chemistry, being very soothing and, for that reason, all the more appropriate when you're at work or just kicking back in the laboratory. The beginning of the song's jam is incredibly unique, with Al playing lighter, happier riffs that fall somewhere between Head and Bring It Back Home until the tempo picks up. The jam then proceeds to an intensifying rise over the song's flip-flop rhythm until it reaches its spiraling climax in classic Al style. The song is brought in with a relatively free Rob bass solo. Interestingly after the song concludes the track still includes Rob saying, "We're going to take a quick break, we'll be right back" - very likely an allusion to the album's bonus disc, "3.1." While Timmy Tucker might fall short of being spectacular, this Recreational Chemistry is truly spectacular, over eighteen minutes of blissfully tuned-in ecstasy. "L" is packaged exquisitely - we've come a long way since the "No Doy" era! - with incredible photography from Mark Lutzker featuring shots of the band, several of which are from the Willy Wonka themed Halloween show at the Hammerstein Ballroom in New York City; pictures of Steve Young, moe.'s front of house engineer, and Chris Ragan, moe.'s lighting designer, at their respective control tables; a shot of the honorary sixth member of moe., Crown Royal; a picture of some body part with hair that is bound to cause massive confusion and controversy; and supposedly a blurred picture of yours truly on the album's spine, or so I'm told. So that wraps up my take on "L," hopefully the first of many such live releases we can expect from the band (although a studio album should be in order for sometime soon). I may be right, I may be wrong, but I'm sure not stuck in the middle - this is the definitive moe. album, a live experience offering compelling evidence that moe. stand in a league of its own in the realm of improvisational rock and roll.
"Amfibian Tales" - Tom
Marshall and Company In the long-awaited documentary "Bittersweet Motel," Trey Anastasio defends Phish lyricist Tom Marshall against critics who call his words oblique and silly. To prove his point, Anastasio delivers an impromptu version of Sleep -- a delicate, haunting ballad about trying to recapture a fading dream -- and in doing so explains what Phish fans have known for years: Tom Marshall's words negotiate the crooked corners of the mind the way no one else's do. Not that Marshall is never oblique or silly, even into his 30's. But his command of language has grown stronger and subtler; as an excavator of real emotion, he's digging with sharper tools. On "Amfibian Tales", a free-wheeling studio collaboration with Amfibian bandmates and friends, he continues to evolve, even as he devolves. From a lyrical perspective, "Tales" is Marshall's most nakedly honest work to date, a personal mosaic of triumphs and failures, wonder and frustration. The imagery here is familiar, elemental and dreamlike. As with the 1996 Phish release "Billy Breathes", water bubbles up often. In Nothing, it flows smoothly through his mind as unburdened thought. In "Mud," murky pond water, rain and fog conceal peril ("People always say I have illogical fears / For thirteen months I've had leeches in my ears"). And in Mermaids, he wonders why his wading companion can't see the happy creatures of myth flashing just below the surface of the sea when they're plain to him. In dream imagery, water is said to represent the soul, and moving water its journey; if it's true, then Marshall paints an unsure picture of his own spirituality. On "Rift", and in more recent Phish offerings like Limb By Limb, Marshall has often taken a sideways approach to dysfunctional relationships; whether for self-consciousness or discomfort, he can be too quick to veer from honest observation into vague metaphors or sardonic inside jokes. But songs like Eggshells and It Has To Be trace a new and direct route into this territory. The writer's emerging earnestness is compelling; it must have been painful to exorcise some of these demons. While most if not all of the lyrics on "Amfibian Tales" could easily work as Phish songs, don't expect Phishy sounds; apart from the instrumental Salamander Spread, this is a mostly jam-free affair. Instead, Marshall seems to offer an unapologetic catalog of his own influences, from the Beatles and CSNY (Onion) to contemporary smart-pop like Pavement (Dream Satellite), Ween (Salamander Spread), Beck (Taciturn), and They Might Be Giants (Mud). It's a heady mix, and for the most part, it goes down easy. His supporting players are strong, most notably bassist/guitarist Matt Kohut, who has also recorded and performed with Ween, and Anna Soloway and Stephanie Sanders, who sing like broken angels on the album's sole Anastasio contribution, Nothing. Scott Metzger's serpentine electric guitar work also appears too sparingly. This is a loose and under-produced record, so it stands to reason that the homespun, gentle numbers work best; their vulnerability and charm compensate for any imprecision. They hang loosely on melodies that you may find yourself whistling in the shower, and a few are even adorned with striking, graceful harmonies. The up-tempo tracks are less consistent; Kohut's unaccompanied vocal on Spin drove my pets from the room. In the end, "Amfibian Tales" is a portrait of an artist in flux: an honest and increasingly open poet, and an enthusiastic, if developing, musical voice. For anyone intrigued, amused or moved by Marshall's deliciously warped perspectives, it's a vital piece of history.
"Xenoblast" - Jazz
Mandolin Project This third offering from the steadily evolving Jazz Mandolin Project is very heady stuff. Although more casual jamband fans may be familiar with Jamie Masefield only because of his Vermont roots and association with some of the members of Phish, this album proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that the Project has a life of its own. While John Fishman still plays road gigs and had significant contributions on "Tour De Flux," upright bassist Chris Dahlgren and skinsman Ari Hoenig carry the day here. The influences contained within the nine tracks of "Xenoblast" are so varied that even single songs move in multiple directions at once. Most of the tracks are about seven minutes in length, so the trio has room to explore and vary their themes quite a bit. As is obvious from the title of the band, Masefield's technique is mostly grounded in jazz standards, but the influences of bluegrass musicians like Bela Fleck can be heard as well. By the end of the album, Masefield, Dahlgren, and Hoenig have bridged enough musical genres and shown enough improvisational prowess that Trey Anastasio's inclusion on the last track is merely a footnote. The first track Xenoblast, shares the album's name and is a good reference point from which to begin the album. With a title that evokes images of laser beams blowing up aliens in a video game, this first track is kind of like a cosmic rush hour. It stops and starts in herky-jerky movement, gliding quickly from one point to the next. Hoenig's hand speed is particularly impressive, and some of the percussive effects he uses make for totally unique combinations with the mandolin and bass. In some parts I can't tell if Hoenig is using a special instrument (listed on the liner as a dumbek) or if Dahlgren is rubbing up and down on his bass strings to created a distorted sound. That's what makes jazz music so challenging and inspiring at the same time. Everything is in the nature of creative improvisation, so these guy have the green light to take plenty of different approaches to the material. Double Agent jumps all over the place, falling down and then back up again, crossing itself in the process. It has elements of scat within it, like the kind of jazz you might hear over Sunday brunch, but has a spooky little hook to keep you paying attention. The Milliken Way has a rolling, pastoral tone to it, reminiscent of Django Reinhardt, with Masefield showing some Grisman influence throughout portions of the song. It marches merrily along, slowly building to a crescendo like a piece of classically written music. Of course, the ending jam is definitely not something that Mozart would have recognized in his day, and that's what differentiates The JMP from some of their jazz peers. Spiders uses a similar structure, but takes a different angle with Hoenig on egg shakers and Masefield picking delicately around his instrument like an itsy-bitsy spider walking gingerly on its web. Jovan is as close to easy listening as anything on the album, but it is also a intricate movement contained within a small window of opportunity. Overall, this album legitimizes Jamie Masefield and The Jazz Mandolin Project as permanent fixtures in the modern jazz scene. It is for both serious lovers of jazz music (of which I do not necessarily counting myself) and also jam fans who have an ear for creative experimentation. Each member contributes equally and takes the lead on at least one song. Dahlgren's moaning, resonant bass lines on Dromedary, for example, really paint the picture for the listener. This isn't the kind of album you listen to in the record store and buy immediately. It took a couple of listens to sink in, kind of like breaking in a new pair of sneakers. Once it fit though, it fit well. It is well mixed and produced, with all of the sounds on the album coming through crystal clear. This is definitely an album worth buying, especially if you have not been familiar with the Jazz Mandolin Project in the past. Their present work speaks volumes.
"A Song For The Sun" - the Sun Ra Arkestra under the direction of
Marshall Allen Since his death Sun Ra has become one of the most revered jazz musicians among rock musicians, his reach and influence in the world of jambands probably exceeded only by Miles Davis. Like Miles, Sun Ra recorded prolifically for decades, and covered a staggering amount of musical ground in his career. And also like Miles, fans of rock music and jambands unfortunately tend to focus on only a small part of his catalog, selling short the diversity that characterized the music of both men. Jamband fans who only know Sun Ra from projects involving alumni of his Arkestra, such as Surrender to the Air and Michael Ray's Kosmic Krewe, probably envision the man from Saturn as a wild electric fusion jammer, closer in spirit to rock and funk than the jazz of the first half of the 20th century. The real Sun Ra, however, grew up listening to Duke Ellington and Cole Porter, and even his most experimental and bizarre music retained a reverence for the sweet, honest melodies of the swing era. Since his death Ra's lifelong sideman, alto player Marshall Allen, has led his Arkestra. Allen nowadays is best known for howling dissonant free jazz -- he's the relentlessly shrieking sax on the Surrender to the Air album. But he, like his mentor, has many faces. "A Song for the Sun" is Allen's tribute to his departed friend, and to a departed time: the swing era in which they both came of age. Allen's seven original compositions on the disk contain no free jamming, only fleeting glimpses of atonality and would have fit perfectly on a Sun Ra album circa 1957. Allen even chooses to open the album with a straightforward reading of the Jerome Kern chestnut The Way You Look Tonight that shows only the subtlest signs of the journeys jazz has taken since Kern's time.
In the spirit of Ellington's legendary orchestra, Allen's Arkestra is a
huge band - 18 pieces plus a vocalist. And Allen turns out to be a master
arranger in the Ellington vein, in every composition fitting the 18 voices
together in a detailed mosaic in which no voice or section becomes
overpowering. Instead elegant counterpoint and soaring harmonies detail
every tune. On my favorite track, Watch the Sun Rise, the band comes
in
one by one like the sun peeking out over the horizon beam by beam. The
rhythm section - four percussionists, bass and drums - build a deep shifting
foundation for the simple melodies above, each ostinato part tugging the
tune
in a different direction. As more and more voices join in the harmonies
clash, but in a carefully thought-out way that preserves the beauty of the
melody. Indeed, there are lots of clashing harmonies and intentionally
out-of-tune parts throughout the album, but they never become overpowering
and always serve to enhance the composition.
self-titled - Karl
Denson's Tiny Universe Greyboy Allstars frontman Karl Denson is back with a new group, Tiny Universe. Their self-titled cd is a fine debut for the sax master and company. In addition to Denson on sax, flute, and vocals, this new band features trumpet, organ, bass, drums, and congas, and guest appearances by Allstars members Robert Walter and Elgin Park. Although similar to the Allstars, this group features a little less funk and dance and a little more R&B, jazz, and even gospel. Denson's Maceo Parker-influenced sax work is powerful and impressive as ever as he repeatedly spits solos of fire. Time and time again Denson demonstrates that he is truly a force to be reckoned with. On lead vocals, Denson's voice is clear and strong. The lyrics are difficult to relate to sometimes, as in Family Tree, where Denson seems to be naming everyone in his family and giving a little information about each of them. This, however, doesn't interfere with the pleasure of the melody and interwoven instrumental parts. Adding Carlos Washington on trumpet was a touch of genius. At times, Washington adds a nice Latin tinge; other times, he throws a rich harmony against Denson's horn. A fine soloist himself, mixing in quotes of jazz standards into his solos, Washington helps to define the Tiny Universe as distinct from the Allstars. The rest of the band is decent enough, if not noteworthy. As with the Allstars, I often get tired of the repetitive guitar work. Generally, I find funk-jazz bands to sound better when the guitarist backs off. Denson's new guitarist does have a less in-your-face style than Allstars guitarist Elgin Park did, which is nice. Overall, Karl Denson's Tiny Universe is a strong statement from Denson that he is back and going strong. Music fans would be wise to keep an eye on this group.
"Live At The Stone Coast Brewing Company 7.22.99" - Jiggle The Handle One name that will continually pop up on a favorites list for jamband fans in the northeast United States is Jiggle the Handle. Through ten years of lineup shuffles, gigging and touring, JTH built a solid fan base through their live show - a mixture of cover favorites and original music - before releasing their studio debut "In It Again" in 1999. With the release of "Live at the Stone Coast Brewing Company" on Phoenix Presents, Jiggle the Handle backs up the reputation. The first adjective I will use to describe this disc is SOLID. All nine tracks are excellent inclusions in this live collection, free of obvious flaws, and maintain a positive groove throughout. Recorded live on 7- 22-99 (with an additional track from Berkfest, 8/15/99), this disc showcases JTH in their natural habitat -- pleasing fans on stage. The harmonies and instrumental jams are tight and the disc FLOWS from song to song, several of them through seamless segues-see Walking Backwards > High Noon or Feel Like I'm Dreaming > In It Again. Each musician has his place in the sound and each voice adds. The harshest criticism I can muster is that the band never really goes over the edge into pure exploration -- they gets right there and hold, dipping toes across in spots. Backstrom's guitar is solid - his tone morphs and his fills are impressive throughout - but not necessarily inventive. That said, if this is one of the better shows from last year, then they played a lot of DAMN good ones. Second is JAZZY. The breadth of influence on this band isn't terribly pronounced on this disc, straying rarely from pure jazz-influenced rock. The jam in Fine Line leads me to feelings of Donald Fagen's Kamikiriad and overall the material is much in the vein of a lighter Steely Dan. Latin (Aliento de Vida) and swing influence (Over the Edge) do make a memorable appearance, but definitely take a back seat. Fine, it's GOOD jazz. Third is PLEASING. It may or may not be quantifiable, but whether it's the admonition to Fly With the Sun (the standout track including a nice vocal jam segment) or the desire to go Over the Edge, the message is consistently positive throughout this collection. Over the course of listening to this disc repeatedly, I had no desire to take it out of the player in favor of something else, and it curiously and subconsciously improved my mood. Plus. "Live at the Stone Coast Brewing Company" gets an A- with only a few expectations keeping it from an A. This is not merely a good bootleg, it's a well-mixed production-quality recording of a solid jamband with a great name -- Jiggle the Handle. Buy it and try it -- you'll like it a whole lot.
"California Screamin'" - the Dixie Dregs When I mentioned to a friend that I was reviewing this CD for the jambands site, he was rather surprised to hear that anyone would consider the Dregs a "jam band." The fact of the matter is that, by most definitions of the term, they aren't. They do improvise, but the solos are tightly worked into each composition - often, the soloists get as few as 8 bars to say their piece, and, though the solos here are quite different from the studio versions, the format of each piece remains the same. However, here's the review anyway, and not without reason. One could justify it on the grounds that T Lavitz and Rod Morgenstein have been playing with Jazz Is Dead, or that Lavitz was reportedly a contender for the Dead's keyboard slot after Brent Mydland died, or that this band deserves a high ranking on the long list of "Bands that sound more like an influence on Phish than the Dead ever do." Or simply because this is good music that draws on both rock and jazz influences. The Dregs were one of the major latter-day fusion bands, and one of those groups that inspired many high school students (me included) to get serious about their instruments. This CD, essentially a live greatest hits release, is a lot of fun, and proves that they haven't lost their chops. Like any group that's found some success in a non-mainstream genre, these guys must know something about marketing, and so this record displays their ties and influences prominently. There's faithful homages to Zappa (a Peaches En Regalia cover with Dweezil sitting in, much truer to the rich textures of "Hot Rats" than any other live version I've ever heard, though not as wacked out as FZ's late 70's arrangement on "Tinseltown Rebellion") and the Allmans (Jessica). There are also nods to their Southern roots with an amusing arrangement of Dixie and a reference to Rocky Top during The Bash. (There's the Phish connection again.) As well, Mahavishnu violinist Jerry Goodman (alternating with med-school grad Allen Sloan) fires up some vintage licks on Aftershock, Sleeveless In Seattle and Ionized. Steve Morse, as always, gets the most attention for his blazing fretwork and well-plotted compositions, and since his tunes could get formulaic at times, it's nice to have the best of them in one place. A less tacky title would have been nice, and the mix occasionally gets too reverby to capture the excitement of the "live" setting, but otherwise this is a first-class Dregs retrospective. High school students looking for motivation to get serious about their instruments, or college grads (or non-attendees) looking to remember those days, should look no further.
"Dawn Of The Tubes" - the Tubes I was first introduced to the Tubes when I was an adolescent, getting my first glimpse of MTV. The Tubes had a hit song right around the time that my family first acquired cable, She's A Beauty. To my youthful and impressionable mind, this was cool -- sexy, off the wall, poppy, and full of rock 'n roll goodness. I didn't think much about them until nearly ten years later when their keyboard player, Vince Welnick joined the Grateful Dead. I had heard something about them in between, that She's A Beauty was not indicative of their sound, and that they were one of the first bands to mix video and audio into an encompassing stage show. This always interested me, but until I received this disc, I never got a chance to examine the band and trace their roots. This disc is a tracing of the adolescence of the Tubes themselves. Springing from the creative and artistic San Francisco music scene, the Tubes were an eclectic bunch -- writing and playing music both for themselves and for a growing audience. Their motivations are unclear: are they trying to entertain themselves, or us? The answer lies in this disc, released by the Phoenix Media Group. The answer is both: they are like adolescents themselves -- trying their hardest to entertain themselves, and almost despite themselves, creating intelligent and entertaining music. This album is a compilation of early demo material, prior to studio releases, mixed with live material of the band's early radio appearances. The album is a release of Phoenix's Gems series, attempting to capture moments of rock 'n roll history. Certainly, the Tubes have a place in rock history -- and this album attempts to define what that place is. The record opens with certainly the strongest cut on the album, and the best Tubes song I've heard to date, White Punks On Dope. This song really gets to the heart of what the Tubes were all about. Sarcasm mixed with musical digression built over a solid rhythm. Prairie Prince, who later went on to play several shows as the drummer for Phil Lesh and Friends, lays down a driving and impeccable rhythm over which the rest of the band feels free to vamp. The lyrics are hilarious, and really set the mood for what is to come. Other strong cuts include the medley of Never Amount To Nothing/Hermuta. Never Amount To Nothing is an amusing tale of father and son, about expectation and creativity. The Hip Dip, the album's closer, is a fun party tune highlighting the lighter side of the Tubes. The Tubes were widely regarded as a live stage band, to be seen more than to be heard. The band, especially their lead singer, Fee Waybill, played out roles meant to titillate and fascinate. But this album does not rely on any stage show, but illustrates that the Tubes were a band with a true appreciation of the complexities and diverse landscapes of music. It is clear listening to this disc that the musicians were influenced by the sounds of Frank Zappa, Captain Beefheart, and the Mothers of Invention. Their combination of intricate composition, biting sarcasm, and a willingness to stray far left of center inevitably draws these comparisons, while not pigeon holing the band into a particular style or mode. Phoenix Media must be commended for their attention to detail on this series. The album is produced by Stephen Barcard, who originally recorded the material and also wrote the liner notes. Mark Arminski creates the packaging and artwork. He will be doing the artwork for the whole series, and I look forward to the next release if only for this reason. His attention to detail really creates a package of note, and helps to define the mood and place in history for this album. He paints an accurate picture of the band and its music even prior to the first listen. This album exposed me to a side of the band that I did not expect to find. The band has the ability to turn around with ease, and to create unexpected rhythms and movement. At times, the music becomes laborious, as the listener is forced to accept musical meandering that is really meant to entertain the player rather than the listener, but for fans of complex and unusual arrangements, that is not too much of a concession to make. Rock 'n roll history is a tapestry, forever woven and always unfinished. The Tubes, both their dawn and their heyday, belong within that tapestry, and weave an interesting and unusual portrait.
"Solid Sender" - Sex Mob "Solid Sender", the sophomore effort by the Steven Bernstein-led New York quartet Sex Mob, is fun. It's fun in the conventional sense: joyous horns at a rollicking Dixieland party; but also fun in the deeper musical sense: overturning arrangements of popular songs into a combination blast of free jazz and Nawlins brass band. At the center of the band is Bernstein, an unusually expressive slide trumpet player whose arrangements tend to strike directly and swiftly at the core of a song, if not always the core the original composer intended. This rapidity is evinced by the covers on the disc. There's a plethora of 'em, covering a wide array of popular styles: Nirvana's About A Girl, ABBA's Fernando, the Grateful Dead's Ripple, Buffalo Springfield's For What It's Worth, and the Stones' Ruby Tuesday, among others. Hearing a familiar rock tune translated to another idiom is almost always interesting, if not always good. In Sex Mob's case, it's mostly good. The band's intents are easily highlighted by the spins they put on the songs' melodies. Take About A Girl, for example. The original - a crystalline early-Beatles-esque gem in the midst of Nirvana's 1989 sludge-rock debut, "Bleach" - is one of the more pervasively hopeful tunes in Kurt Cobain's songbook. A slight pessimism, evident in the frayed edges of Cobain's voice, creeps in around the perimeter. In the Sex Mob version, Bernstein manages to retain both qualities: the optimism of the melody (and especially the hook) with the hesitant quality of an a world-beaten man who knows that it has the full potential to all come crashing down. Where Cobain expressed the potential collapse with a precise amount of controlled angst, Bernstein does it with bittersweet trumpet slides and measured forays into chaos. Hearing the song played in such a fashion brings exactly what makes the song work. In the case of Ripple, Bernstein takes another optimistic melody and shifts it around. Beginning as a duet with bassist Tony Scherr, Ripple is transformed into a funeral-like dirge. And, in the tradition of such a genre, the chorus - aided by a pair of cellos emulating David Grisman's famous mandolin ripples - points towards a future rebirth. Where the original relied on the contrast between Robert Hunter's lyrics and the song's melody to express the duality of, well, the universe, again the task falls to Bernstein. Scherr's somber bass provides a comforting accompaniment, a friend of the bereaved patting him gently on the back. Barring the six Human Bidet intervals of approximately 20 seconds each, the album is nearly equally split between originals and covers. After hearing the band's covers of other tunes, it's almost hard not to reverse-engineer the originals back into rock staples. It also makes it easier to see what informs Bernstein's melodic ideas. It's refreshing to see a decisively jazz album unashamed of its roots in a world outside of jazz. Usually, it seems, when a song is moved whole from one genre to another, at least part of the intention is an ironic one -- band members smiling smugly at the juxtaposition. One never gets that sense listening to "Solid Sender". It is to this end that form follows function. The tight arrangements, in many cases on Bernstein's originals, follow the conventions of rock. For example, on Rear View, an opening groove duet by Scherr and drummer Kenny Wollesen (also featured on a handful of track's on John Scofield's recent "Bump"), is subtly added to by Scherr's overdubbed acoustic guitar. Everything has a purpose. There seems to be little free blowing for its own sake. It all serves the songs. At a recent performance, the opening number, held together by a muscular Scherr bassline reminiscent of Hendrix's Burning Of The Midnight Lamp began with articulated long horn blasts from Bernstein and Krauss. Standing on opposite sides of the platform, the duo moved towards center stage as the bellowing dissolved into a raucous stomp. Midway through the tune, the band slipped into freeness. As Scherr and Wollesen built cresting sheets of sound, Krauss rode the top, squawking joyously on a towel-muted sax. Bernstein soon joined in. With nary a signal, the band seamlessly segued back into the long horn blasts at the beginning of the tune before dropping swiftly back into the head. "Solid Sender" is constructed marvelously. Though the album is not without its faults (some arrangements lean towards brute force where nuance might work better, there maybe a little too much reliance on the sheer evocative timbre of the slide trumpet to carry the tunes), the disc is remarkably refreshing. In an age where many bands - hip or not - seem to be playing ineffectual white boy funk, it's nice to see a group attempting something else.
"What Can and Can't Go On" - Cuneiform Records Rune
122 Over the last few years, the gap between rock/metal and rap has decreased enormously. Given five minutes of MTV, such an assumption becomes understandable, with bands like Limp Bizkit and Korn splattering the iridescent screen. For various inconceivable reasons, the connection between jazz and metal appears as an enormous divide. Certainly King Crimson came close, as did other fusion styled bands, bet never to a huge extent. The Hosemobile appear prepared the launch into the abyss existing, with a goal of creating music equal parts Slayer and Medeski, Martin and Wood, searching for a sound not yet played. Certainly the above mix seems inconceivable, and in some respects, the music is a strange entity to behold. Slow changes exist over double bass blasts; suddenly a scream occurs out of some decent angry land, only to find sanctuary in the sheering maelstrom of two electric guitars. Heat Swome which begins the album, happens to be the most excessable track. Feedback and atonal melodies collide, creating a MMW type freeform jam, with the aggressiveness of a maniacal Jimi Hendrix. With very few changes, the music pushes the listener far beyond the expectations of music. A sound this crunchy usually moves briskly, but the agonizingly slow pace of the music causes the listener to re-evaluate all preconceptions of sound and art. Earlier, a comment was made regarding Slayer. Some fans of Hosemobile may find the statement preposterous, but a listen to Her Hand should be enough proof. Consisting of a let-me-display-my-metal-licks and a double bass maniacal jam, the speed and sound becomes quite remniscent to Slayer. After slowing down, the jazz influences become more noticeable, with the guitar and bass tones sounding similar to Tortoise or Three Mile Pilot. At about this point, the listener can begin to realize the niche being created by the Hosemobile, a land creating music not unlike any created before. Which may explain the title of the album "What Can and Can't Go On". Music for the most part can't go on, too much of it borders on trite monotony, exhibiting poorly composed pieces to sell money. However many decent elements can be found within music, a land of creativity and sounds spawned by brilliant artisans containing vitality; music people listening to MTV-type trash will only understand years from now. The Hosemobile realize this, and choose to carry forth the musical torch on their shoulders. Only years from now will the sounds this foursome create make sense.
"This Day" - John Brown's
Body "This Day", the latest release by John Brown's Body is "original roots drum and bass music with lyrical integrity that challenges the listener to open heart, mind and soul". Actually, I may or may not agree with that statement, but I didn't write it. That was on the back of the CD case and I thought it was a nifty way to start the review. In fact what "This Day" is is a collaboration by some very talented musicians to put together some fine reggae music. As simple as that. I've yet to put this on and not have the people I happen to be with start to groove, skip and dance. If at all possible, I try to expose as many people as possible to the discs I receive from JamBands. There have been times in the past where I was immediately turned off by a particular facet of a band, only to have a friend point out something he/she really enjoyed about the song or band. Which only helps to keep my ego in check, and remember why I'm here. I am a music reviewer, not a music critic. If at all possible, my aim is to describe the music to you, the reader, in terms that may direct you toward a possible purchase, or not. I also try to remember that the band I am listening to is by far better than my own at that moment (non-existent), and therefore worthy of at at least that much credit. John Brown's Body is however, worthy of much more than that. Reggae is the music of the people, and John Brown's Body doesn't seem to have a problem with that concept. I have a great respect for bands that can play together as a whole entity, without the Eddie Van Halen wanna-be crawling all over every song. Their music is truly democratic, and a joy to listen to for that reason alone. However there are many other reasons that that. First and foremost would be Chris "c money" Welter's fantastic trumpet playing, without which, I think this disc would seem so much more empty. He is accompanied by Lee Hamilton on tenor sax, making the horns a integral part of the mix. The horns blend with Nathan "silas" Richardson's B-3 organ and clavinet until I found myself back in the early day's of reggae in the mainstream. What really sells me on these guys is the vocals. Kevin Kinsella and Elliot Martin have a such a grass roots sound to them that a few folks have asked me if I had gotten a hold of a new Marley disc. Really, this has happened. These guys have such a classic sound that it's hard not to think that they are destined to make some decent headway in this business, given they keep at it. Nothing comes for free in this world, but I still maintain that talent and quality will only go unrecognized for as long as the lack of effort is maintained. An effort it seems, they are willing to make. As the age old question goes: "Excuse me sir, but do you know how to get to Carnegie Hall?" Practice. Practice. Practice.
"Rockets" - Conehead Buddha One thing I always enjoyed as a child was being pleasantly surprised. Not only did Conehead Buddha do just that for me with their fifth CD, "Rockets", but after listening to it just once, I found myself to also be in tremendously high spirits. This is indeed quite the shock, as normally I would not have even thought to have checked out these seven talented folks. However, Conehead Buddha surpassed any expectations I may have had while delivering twelve neatly structured, ear-pleasing tunes, produced wonderfully by John Alagia, who has also done production for bands like moe. and the Dave Matthews Band. "Rockets" erupts at a slow but steady pace beginning with its title track. Already, the listener is bound to notice the large ska influence, as the horn section dominates throughout. Chris Fisher's vocals are versatile and melodic, providing a perfect energetic feel for this and many of the other tracks, including and not limited to My Way, Bobby Brooks, and Mattress Mambo. Additionally, Chris Kennedy's guitar lines are powerful and driving throughout. (Kennedy, however, is no longer with the band.) Part of what is so appealing about "Rockets" is that it seems to disassociate completely from what could be considered 'just another jam band.' This release scurries away from the somewhat boring normality of other bands' releases and has the potential to take the listener on a fun and bouncy musical rollercoaster. I have never had the chance to see Conehead Buddha live, but I can imagine that they have just as much -- if not more -- energy as what has been seeping through my speakers during what is now my third listening of "Rockets" in a row. Many of these tracks are quite radio friendly. It would not be hard to imagine Bobby Brooks and Down making their way into frequent airplay on many diverse radio stations. The vocal harmonies are impeccable, and each tune makes sitting still an absolute chore. The one important thing that Conehead Buddha is lacking in this release is a strong sense of variety. Many of the tracks sound similar to each other; the rhythm section is uncannily repetitive and the melodies are sometimes too much alike. However, if the listener is looking to enjoy life for a little while and perhaps cheer up, this is certainly a CD to recommend. I personally look forward to checking out the band when they tour next in my area. It cannot hurt to feel good for a few hours.
Elevation - Yonder Mountain
String Band Wilbert's used to be the best club in Cleveland. It was an odd little blues joint squeezed between the old bricks of a narrow factory basement atop the hill leading into the Flats, with exactly three tables facing the front of the stage. Along with weekly gigs by Robert Jr. Lockwood (Robert Johnson's stepson and Cleveland's pipeline to the delta), bluegrass and jam bands would periodically turn up. Zero played a legendary show in the room, and the Austin Lounge Lizards twice displayed their full comic genius there. But sometime last summer promoter Mike Miller ran afoul of the landlord in a dispute about whether he needed to pay the rent for several consecutive months and, just in time to escape eviction, Miller moved the operation to a more spacious room on the third floor of a trendy brewpub across from the baseball diamond. One of the first acts he booked there was Smokin' Grass. But they didn't show up. I think the opener was given a choice of whether to play their hour for the sparse crowd. Some outfit called the Yonder Mountain String Band. Never heard of 'em, but with a name like that they've gotta be good, right? The very title seemed to imply both a sense of humor about, and a healthy respect for, traditional hillbilly music of the Appalachians. A pretty apt moniker, as it turned out. They played. Oh, how they played! Non-stop for nearly three hours they laid it out for about fifty of us gathered around. YMSB showed themselves to be first and foremost a bluegrass band, pure as a mountain stream and steeped in tradition without so much as an electric bass. But they jam pretty hard. Most bluegrass bands donít play Little Maggie for 20 minutes or bop through a Peter Tosh number in the middle of one of their own. Or cover an Ozzy Osbourne song at all. The group played the last half hour off stage amidst the tables without amplification ("to let you hear what the music is supposed to sound like"). We came home and listened to the tape for days, trying to get a grip on this curious new and different sound that yet somehow harkened back to something old and familiar. (Always tape a band if they'll let you, even if you've never heard of them, because they might be brilliant like these guys.) Fourteen stellar Yonder Mountain compositions grace the band's first CD, "Elevation" just out on Frog Pad Records. The packaging is unique, like the music on the disc, unfolding in surprising ways and avoiding the typical use of plastic. The cover photo peers up through the treetops, the direction in which these boys' career together seems headed. With this release and an appearance in June at the Telluride Bluegrass Festival, word is likely to get out about these guys in a big way. Dave Johnston's banjo rolls the band right into gear at the beginning of the opening cut, Half Moon Rising, and mandolinist Jeff Austin joins in with a plaintive vocal about the classic bluegrass theme of longing for the old homeplace. (Mindful of all bluegrass traditions, including the one about having fun, they cover most of the customary lyrical trappings at one point or another.) But the longing here is less sorrowful than is typically found in the bluegrass canon. The "half moon rising in southeastern skies tonight" represents more than a yearning for the past and the birthplace of this music; it is a beacon of hope. These guys write about desperate situations, to be sure, but the characters seem always to find a way to keep on going ("push me on over another mountaintop"). Determination and warm reassurance are the norm. Johnston's Mental Breakdown, the second tune on the disc, highlights the band's instrumental dexterity and taste. This is playing with intricacy and drive, but borne of feeling rather than showmanship. Although these guys can pick a lot of notes in a hurry, they never seem to be rushing to get from one to the next. Solos are a group effort, as the musicians support each other marvelously with engaging interplay throughout. Guit-box player Adam Aijala's Left Me In A Hole displays the Yonder harmony singin' in full splendor. The voices interweave with abandon on the chorus, as our heroes avoid succumbing - as too many good bluegrass bands do in the studio - to the temptation to strive for precise accuracy when sheer passion is clearly what is called for. This is good stuff. Recorded at the Colorado studio of the late Hot Rize guitarist (and Leftover Salmon producer) Charles Sawtelle, the recording was produced by Sally Van Meter (of Blue Rose and Good Ol' Persons) and features guest appearances by Darol Anger on fiddle and Mike Marshall on mandolin (both former members of the David Grisman Quintet and ongoing members of Psychograss, each has also pursued scholarly classical grass (Anger with the Turtle Island String Quartet and Marshall with the Modern Mandolin Quartet), as well as producer Van Meter on dobro -- er, I mean resophonic guitar. Anger lends some haunting fiddle to Darkness and Light, a tune which covers the conventional bluegrass soldier-going-off-to-battle theme. It's a little startling at first to hear an add-on to the usual foursome, but YMSB sounds amazing with Anger's fiddle completing the standard bluegrass instrumentation. Van Meter adds inspired electric lap slide (and harmony vocals, along with Celeste Krenz) on Johnston's Eight Cylinders, a good old-fashioned country love song complete with a broken-down Ford. But again the outlook is decidedly encouraging. No tears in the beer here. Western themes occasionally surface in the lyrics. Stories of sheriffs and outlaws might be expected more from the New Riders of the Purple Sage than from a bluegrass band, but Yonder Mountain music swirls the Appalachians and Rockies together in a mind-bending mosaic - nowhere more than in upright bass player Ben Kaufmann's 40 Miles From Denver. At first I was a bit distracted by the line about being "forty miles from Denver on an Appalachian trail". I mean, I've hiked on the Appalachian trail, and I've driven to Denver, and they're a whole lot more than 40 miles apart. But I came to realize that this band is bridging and narrowing the gap between the mountain ranges. Beginning with Hot Rize and continuing through such acts as Sugarbeat, Leftover Salmon, and The String Cheese Incident, Colorado has produced some of the finest bands who've stretched the music that oozes pure from the hills of Virginia and Kentucky in new directions. The Yonder Mountain String Band is stretching those new directions back to the primordial ooze. Further highlights include This Lonesome Heart, a driving traveling tune ("rambling on through the night") with great ensemble work, and High on a Hilltop, a banjo-driven, toe-tapping search for long lost love, the passion fully evident in Austin's perfectly imperfect high lonesome tenor harmony. But really, every note of this disc is a highlight. This is a party. A party that doesnít want to end -- be sure to wait for the little hidden bonus jam at the end of the final track. Traditional jam grass. Pure and solid as a tall western cedar, this is music for sitting around the campfire in a cosmic psychedelic unwind. For those of us who got into bluegrass through Old & In Way and developed a deep reverence for the Stanley Brothers as well as an appreciation of the cool things folks such as New Grass Revival were doing to the stuff, these guys just might be the best band going right now. And this acoustic quartet has made a scientific breakthrough by proving that wood does indeed conduct electricity. By the way, in rapid succession after the YMSB event at the new Wilber's, promoter Miller disappeared from town, the club stopped booking shows, and the whole brewpub went bankrupt. But I'll always remember that place fondly for the one night I was there.
"A Tour Of Two Cities" - Soup This double disc set is the latest in the Phoenix Presents series. Phoenix Media has been releasing live albums from Jambands directly to their fans, capturing live moments in high quality recordings. Previous releases on the series include ulu, Blueground Undergrass, Jiggle the Handle, and more. The discs were recorded on two nights -- the first at the Cotton Club in Atlanta, GA and the second at the Wetlands in New York City in the Fall of 1999. Both clubs are known for showcasing the rising stars of the Jambands scene, and Soup really indicates why they are included in this series. The band's lineup is composed of guitars, bass, drums, and harmonica, with nearly everyone in the band contributing vocally. Disc one opens strongly with Squirrel's, a playful number that showcases the group's penchant for slide guitar and accessible song structures. Sally's Sister features Andrew Margolius on the accordion as a strong part of the rhythm section, and will continue the argument about whether or not the accordion is an appropriate rock and roll instrument. (Does anyone remember the arguments on Dead lot when Bruce Hornsby would whip out the accordion?) The band quirks out a bit on this number, but just when you become frustrated by their departure, the song returns to its tonic routes, satisfying the ear and resolving the musical conflict. The band's rhythm section is always tight, and they really hold the band together as the front people experiment in flight and departure. The solid work by Bram Bessoff on the drums and Lee Adkins on the bass are easily appreciated in a time when rhythmic solidity is hard to find. I have gotten to the point where focusing on the quality of the drummer will instantly tell me the quality of the band, and Bessoff does not disappoint. Adkins is impressive on the bass during Cybil Rivalry and Breakdown hopping and bopping with great tone. Once again, Phoenix has really gone all out in the quality of the product. The sound is excellent. Seldom do live acoustic guitars come through as clearly as the introduction to Scratches on the Coffee Table. The packaging is also quite excellent, with nice album artwork, logical icons and informative liner notes. Phoenix has really come to the forefront as the Jambands label, and this disc really illustrates why. Soup reminds me of several bands that have come before them, without being derivative. Several independent Northwest bands of the 90's come to mind, though I'm certain that there are no connections: The Renegade Saints, the Strangers, and Calobo all appear to have shared influences with Soup -- using Southern rock influences and combining those influences with a lineup mixing electric and acoustic components. The end result is smooth, pleasing, and easily understood. Soup appears to be influenced by some of the bigger names in the Jambands community as well -- at times I heard traces of the Allman Brothers Band, Blues Traveler, and the Dave Matthews Band. If I have a complaint with the album it is that when the band departs from their solid song structures, the results challenge the patience of the listener. The medley within Cybil Rivalry injects references to Musical Youth (Pass the Duchee,) the Beastie Boys, and even Neil Diamond (Coming to America.) I suppose this is fun for fans of the band and for the musicians themselves, but it can be a little much. The head of Get Me Back Groove is so reminiscent of Phish's Wolfman's Brother, that it causes a bit of a blush in the listener until they resolve into the chorus. At times, I found the harmonica to challenge my patience, and I am certain that Andrew Margolius has both detractors and devoted fans. Marvin Wright, the opener of disc Two is not the strongest song on the album, and might be better placed later in that disc. These challenges will almost certainly be resolved over the years as the band develops. This album certainly will satisfy the hopes of the series in that a snapshot of the band's live performances in the fall of 1999 is captured. It is easy to see why the band is on the rise, with catchy songs, nice guitar work, a solid rhythm section, and excellent vocals. I will be interested to watch as the band climbs the ranks of independent Jambands, and tries to establish their own place in history.
"Live At Wetlands Preserve" - Homunculus Homunculus is a five piece 'American Rock' band based in Cincinnati OH. Claiming Zappa, Beatles, Talking Heads and Phish among their influences, Homunculus is all about having fun. With two studio releases to their credit and a third in the wings, "Live at Wetlands Preserve" (recorded on 6/18/99 and released on Vivi Entertainment) gives fans a chance to sample Homunculus' club show at a bargain price. "Live at Wetlands Preserve" shows a variety of influences that seem to be expressed in pop radio. With a voice reminiscent of David Byrne meets one-hit-wonder-80's synth pop , Ben Doepke leads this group along their happy road. Their trip visits loungy Latin (Deep South Beach), Chili Peppers-esque rap (Basic Word), 70's rock/funk (Main Event), and the wasteland of the New Wave '80's and comes out with something sickeningly familiar, yet eerily unobtrusive. Production quality on this disc is merely fair -- harmony vocals are difficult to pick out, instrumentation and drums are not clear. It sounds like a slightly better-than-average audience recording, and is priced correctly in that respect. The elements are there-it's like a jamband swimming in a sea of pop, occasionally coming to the surface for a few life-giving measures of oxygen. Perhaps it's the keys and percussion that keep them tied to the jam buoy, as in Walkin' Home or Father Time. There are no stellar jams, and nothing absolutely compelling about the disc. But, it's light and bouncy for the most part, sure to induce spasms in anyone who ever woke up in a Bartles & Jaymes fog and found a "Simply Red" tattoo somewhere on their body. Homunculus fans or sick individuals who still pull out their "A-Ha" collection at parties will be most interested in this innocuous collection. Seekers of a more polished recording with a bit more substance may wish to hold out. o Homunculus: New Groove Of The Month, March 2000
"Dare To Dream" - Toni
Brown "Dare to Dream" is the second effort by Toni Brown. Released on Relix Records, it's a collection of original pieces as well as some inspirational covers that obviously influenced her writing style. The main theme that seems to run through Toni's compositions is one of the care-free, happy, hippie life, and the searching aim of lost love. In the title track Dare to Dream, she paints the scene rosy by comparing opposing senses in a paradox of metaphors. Taste and sight join forces in a way that is only possible in dreams, and under the influence of psychedelics (so I've heard). The lyrics fold nicely over Gary Kroman's guitar. Kroman has a pleasing style that is saturated with distortion, yet clean and easy to listen to. A good rock edge, reminiscent of the sound Garcia displayed in such tunes as All Along the Watchtower and I Need a Miracle. His footprints are all over this disc, noodling in the background, underneath vocals, all the while kept at bay by a fine mix that lets nobody really dominate the sound. The talents are vast on this collection, even Vassar Clements blesses Way You Talk, a bluesy tune that has the potential to be more of a heart-breaker than Toni gives it in this recitation. It seems as though the song may be a tad young, and could use a bit of breaking in on the live scene. Or maybe it's just that studio sound again, as I find myself attracted to more of a live sound. The Dead's influence is more than passing here, as the CD itself is dedicated to Jerry, Pigpen, Brent, Keith, and even Dick. The Dead covers are fairly plentiful; from New Speedway Boogie to We Can Run. There is even a hoppin'' roadhouse version of I'm A Hog For You, which I realize isn't the Dead, but they were my first exposure to the tune. Here bassist Marty Bostoff allows us a taste of his vocal talents and a slippery little solo in the middle of the song to get your ya-ya's out with. There is even a version of George Gershwin's Summertime, which most of you know from Janis Joplin's abduction of the tune. Here it is treated a little too gently for my taste. It never seems to get that desperate pining conveyed by Janis. Granted, it's not fair to compare anyone on that scale, but it is my opinion that if such a song is still that fresh in the public's ear, it should either be topped or changed entirely. That way picky bastards like me don't feel the need to compare them. It seems that Toni's heart is up front on this collection, but there is still something lacking. Her voice, however soft and sweet, doesn't possess the range required by some of her choices offered up here. That is not to say it isn't a good effort, because it is. But it seems as though that's really what it is, an effort. Nobody seems free enough to really lets go here and rip it up. "Dare to Dream" is practiced and polished without the emotion required to make that final leap.
"Raw Power Live!" - All Mighty Senators "My name is Landis, but you can call me Cooley. And as you know, I write a lot of songs about booty," says All Mighty Senators lead singer Lanis Expandis at the beginning of the song Flex, Release. He then proceeds to lead the audience through a buns-of-steel work out of sorts, as he repeatedly has them flex and release their booties while producing various terms for the body part. To me, this one incident symbolizes the entirety of the All Mighty Senators new release, "Raw Power Live!" As the cd plays through the group's December 11, 1999 Washington D.C. show, listeners are treated to a booty-shakin' good time. This is a band that obviously knows how to party. The sound is most accurately described as the B-52's meet the Red Hot Chili Peppers with a hint of Marvin Gaye thrown in from time to time for flavor. The group feels to me like a college band, a group of guys just having some fun on the side. This, of course, almost guarantees that the audience will have a fun time too. The guitar, bass, drums, keyboard/trumpet quartet is joined here by a trombone and two saxophones. These horns are used in a ska-like fashion, mainly for accents. There is very little instrumental improvisation, and almost no solos. Yet, this CD does the All Mighty Senators proud, as it lets people who may never get to see this band live truly experience the fun of a Senatorial dance party.
"Music From Bali" - Pitamaha The promotional CD of the recent Amulet Records release "Music From Bali" arrived at our offices without accompaniment or fanfare. There was no track list, no stack of promotional papers filled with propaganda-like jibberish, and no 8 x 10 glossy photograph. The CD itself was housed in a uniquely weird plastic case, with a little indentation in the middle where one had to press his finger down in order to open the thing. Normally quite wary of such unlabeled and utterly strange packages, we entered in the proper clearance codes, swung open the vacuum-sealed doors, and sent an expendable team of bomb-sniffing wild boars out to investigate. The beasts sniffed and grunted at it, apparently conscious of the notion that they were being used to test the thing for any possible threats. One brave animal - XP-27 - stood forward and patted it gently with it's paw. The package moved swiftly, almost frictionlessly, across our stoop, where it landed at the feet of XP-27's counterpart, XP-12. He sniffed it. Watching the surveillance videos, one can almost see a look of sentience enter into XP-12's eyes as he leans in closely to the disc for the first time. XP-12 and XP-37 proceeded to bring the disc back to the gates, passing the disc back and forth between them like a hockey puck. They are now undergoing extensive testing and expect to begin writing columns next month. A close examination of the CD revealed a strange series of markings on the surface of the disc. After careful study, the forensics department has determined that they were, in fact, representations of art work by Illy B, best known for his percussion work with Medeski, Martin, and Wood, and a co-founder of Amulet Records. After testing the disc for traces of dangerous compounds, I took personal responsibility for slipping the disc into my own CD player. Crowd noise, vague jabbering in a foreign tongue, some shaky introductory beats from a drum and... and... sweet Jesus, what is this? A thousand toy pianos twinkling madly? Well, that's what it sounds like. There's a toy piano in my house - the Jaymar - that sits at the foot of the stairs. I played it when I was really little, banged out songs of my own invention while waiting for the bus to pick me up in the mornings. Each time I played it, the tuning was slightly different, pitches shimmying up and down with the humidity. Each time, the songs were just a little varied from the previous renditions. Somehow, someone has managed to locate an army of Jaymars and record them. Not literally, of course, but damn close. I've never heard anything like this -- at once dreamy, ethereal, convulsing, flowing, spastic, ambient, and mind-bogglingly gorgeous. This music from Bali - Gamelan music, as one of my aides suggested, though I'm not sure - gives form to the chaos I produced while bashing my hands on the keyboard. Tonally, this music is quite unfamiliar. There are notes that feel intrinsically wrong; that don't belong on any scale in Western music. Here, they provide a backbone. Like a scientific proof with a formulation at the center that transcends all mathematical argument but still works, there is a sheer logic underneath all of this. In some ways, that may well be the beauty of the disc -- a new theory system (to my ears, anyway) by which everything works. But there's something beyond that, something more advanced than simply an unfamiliar set of rules. Someone once defined beauty as something which exists above and beyond the cultural norms of the society from which it came. Without any sort of background in the history of Bali, this music feels absolutely right. As near as I can tell, this disc is entirely percussion. At the same time, it's the most melodic percussion I've ever heard. My ear can pick out individual voices, but not the number of instruments in the mix. Two musicians might play alternating parts of the same melody, alternating beats. Of course, another part could be layered on top of that. All in all, it coalesces into a dense, cascading, tapestry of sound -- warm and clear.
"Swingin' The Blues" - Claude "Fiddler"
Williams Okay, raise your hand if you've heard of this guy. Ooh, that's not many of you. Not nearly enough. I hadn't, either. Shame on us for overlooking a national treasure. This violin master has been swingin' the blues since before they started calling it jazz. Born an Okie in Muskogee way back in 1908, Williams came to prominence in the thriving Kansas City music scene of the 1930ís. There he taught a young Charlie Parker how to play the correct changes when going from a major to a minor key. Leaving for New York as a member of Count Basie's orchestra, he appeared on Basie's first recordings for Decca in 1937 and was named top guitarist by Down Beat magazine that same year. He returned to Kansas City and played for 30 years without recording again until his 1972 album with Jay McShann, "The Man from Muskogee", put him back on the map. Recent years have found him touring with the Statesmen of Jazz and fronting shows in New York's top jazz venues, as well as releasing a flurry of recordings. Competing with horns to be heard while playing unamplified in Kansas City's all-night clubs, Williams developed a style of attacking the beginning of a musical phrase and then gliding gracefully through it. There's such a horn-like quality to Fiddler's sound that his violin and guest Bobby Watson's alto saxophone are at times almost indistinguishable from one another when they play in unison on Benny Goodman's A Smooth One (a tune which, incidentally, keeps getting stuck in my head for hours at a time, and one of two cuts on this disc featuring Watson). Williams' playing explores the possibilities of a melody without straying far from it, and the result here is a melodic record that connects directly to the heart and soul without first requiring complicated study by the intellect, as do some more self-indulgent jazz projects. This recording represents the first pairing of Fiddler Williams with blind New Orleans pianist and musical historian Henry Butler. Butler's piano begins the opening track, Horace Silver's The Preacher, with funky echoes of New Orleans legends Jelly Roll Morton and Professor Longhair. The dazzling single-note runs that bear his own stamp appear here as well, most notably on his mind-blowing solo in Mercer Ellingtonís Things Ain't What They Used To Be. The other players Williams has gathered (guitarist Joe Cohn, drummer Jimmy Lovelace and acoustic bassist/musical director Keter Betts) are New York veterans whose ease of playing reflects both the ensembleís talent and their comfort with each other. Standards such as Somewhere Over the Rainbow swing and sway eloquently. While the players do get worked up at times (such as on Duke Ellington's I'm Just a Lucky So and So), they more generally find themselves locked into a pleasant groove. The overall mood is somewhat relaxed, but this is not background music. Try to ignore it and it just slithers around and sneaks up on you from behind. Fiddler's one vocal on this disc, Gee Baby, Ain't I Good To You allows the listener to sense a greater familiarity with the man, but the emphasis of this record is on the ensemble playing and one of the great soloists of Kansas City jazz. The recording is clean and crisp, matching the purity of the music. I feel compelled to mention the amazing fact that this guy is creating new music and putting out records at the age of 92, but itís really immaterial. This stuff stands on its own without being relegated to the status of historical curiosity. In case you're not yet convinced that this is a truly magical CD, consider this final tid-bit: I have a psychedelic screen saver with ever-changing patterns which respond to sounds played through the computer, and this music looks real good.
"Live At Orion" - Djam
Karet There may be some dispute about the connections between prog-rock, fusion and the jambands scene, but these genres have overlapped often in recent years. Certainly Pink Floyd was a starting point for many of us who have searched for more than the ordinary musical experience, with King Crimson being another common stop in the same journey. So, while other second-generation bands on this site take after the Dead and Allmans, Djam Karet's press portrays them as combining Floyd's spaciness with Crimson's edge - an accurate comparison. These guys can play, as this live-in-the-studio release makes clear. Drummer Chuck Oken, Jr is nimble with his sticks and gets a good tone out of what the liner notes indicate to be a borrowed drum kit, and bassist Henry Osborne can pump out steady eighth-note ostinatos for many minutes. Gayle Ellett and Mike Henderson, meanwhile, command the dual-guitar spotlight, and both have the arsenal of slow-burn Fripp/Gilmour guitar tricks down cold. The two of them get many chances to stretch out, while Oken and Osborne lock together to form a firm base. (Okay, I did notice a couple of extra beats slipping into the 6/4+7/4 loop of Familiar Winds, as well as a tempo rush that may or may not have been intentional.) What's most impressive about this CD is the egolessness of the band. The brief liner notes tell us that they've been together for 15 years, and the CD presents a group of players well-attuned to each other. While everyone displays his chops, each player keeps his place in the mix and there are no out-of-place lunges at the spotlight. The 14-minute collection improvisation, Jammin' At Mike & J's, demonstrates this especially well, coalescing from noise into a firm groove, without spilling over into showboating. Like many other jambands, though, Djam Karet's could offer more in the way of composition. The opener, Technology and Industry, catches the ear with vintage Crimsoid dissonances, and each track offers at least an arresting vamp in the Floyd tradition. Too often, though, the lengthy pieces stick in a single mode, and although Oken and Osborne show mastery of finding spaces to stretch within those vamps, the guitarists don't have the formidable soloing skills needed to command interest over the length of the CD. After a while, the dissonance and odd meters become no less predictable than a series of blues jams might be. If you're looking for modern guitar soundscapes to carry on the traditions of "Meddle" or "Lark's Tongues In Aspic", though, check this disc out.
"Live On The Coast Again" - Government Grown The paradigm being followed within the Jamband scene need not be discussed. Almost every band attempts to sound like them, thus creating a surplus of one given sound. Certainly the music soothes the soul, but it can become increasingly boring. Luckily for those within the Jamband scene, there exists Government Grown. A four-piece, consisting of guitar, keys, bass and drums, Government Grown creates gorgeous songs and jams containing African and Reggae elements. When listening to their new album, "Live On the Coast Again", the first noticeable feature for the listener will be the fullness of the band. For a quartet, the band comes out with an enormously powerful sound. Another element, noticeable three minutes into the first track New Ites is their ability to jam. Without going overboard, the sound when Government Grown jams could be considered reminiscent to KVHW. After all, Tyler Hardwick's guitar sounds strangely like Steve Kimock's, while Harley Orion's bass playing may have Phil Lesh in mind, comes closer to a Bobby Vega feel. Add in the keys of Rob Lamonica which are quite Hornsbyesque and the non-stop tribal drumming of Jeremy Moss ala Mickey Hart, and you have a blend which becomes hard to resist. Such accolades appear to be hyperbolic, given the unknown nature of the band. A quick listen to one of the finer tracks on the album, Africa displays the comments are not too much. Opening with an African feel and chanting styled lyrics; the piece has all the flavor and happiness of a King Sunny Ade song. Approximately four minute in, the song takes on a dub flavor, becoming increasingly psychedelic and open. At one point the music hails to the Dead circa "Europe '72" and in media res a Playing in the Band jam. Rob Lamonica's keyboard playing adds some real flavor to the jam as the speed increases, if we continue the metaphor, sounding not unlike a highly inspired Keith Godchaux. Just before the music reaches tribute band status, the music returns to its African roots, reminding the listener of where the song went. Hammond Organ fills, as Hardwick continues to take quieter and quieter solos; allowing for the bass to fill and a dub to ensue. Without stealing any more from the listener, Africa contains something for everyone: African rhythms, Grateful Dead jams and a some improvised lyrics. Another track, well worth mentioning happens to be Chinaco. Beginning with a steel drum effect on Hardwick's guitar, the band then creates a Caribbean paradise, with swaying palm trees and crystalline water. As the music builds, the band takes a ten minute excursion, leading into a bluegrass/blues jam which would gather the attention of Gov't Mule. "Live on the Coast Again" happens to be a gem of an album, and Government Grown, a special band. Time will tell if the band garners the success it desperately deserves. In the mean time, we can all enjoy a highly original sound and some highly inspired jams.
self-titled - the Memphis Jones
Revolution The revolution of the mind? This self-titled debut from the Memphis Jones Revolution stands not only as an accomplishment for a band that has spent the last few years honing their skills and technical prowess, but also for a band that is gaining a growing reputation and following within the Memphis community and regionally as well. It is this following that allowed for the album's creation, brought about through a conglomeration of some of the city's best talent in a format that highlights and perpetuates its rich musical tradition. It is as much a cultural as it is an artistic testament to Memphis. The MJR (known simply as Jones before contractual and trademark disputes with The Jones), brings together many local musicians on this release, including pianist Ross Rice, Richard Cushing from FreeWorld, and Jeff Bradbury from LARRY. And, contrary to the sounds of other albums often weighed down by the abundance of special guests, the interplay here is especially tight and rhythmic, with the musicians complimenting each other at every turn. Bassist Stevie LA, drummer Luke Kende, guitarists Matt Oliver and Hunter Rozen, pianist Nathan Willingham, and percussionist Tony Walsh, composing the MJR's nucleus, are then a group busily proving themselves worthy of the admiration they have garnered in the past. The opening track, Keepin' On nicely sets the disc's pace with straight ahead rock and funk rhythms and passages that permit more open ended jamming in live performances, but are presented concisely and distinctly within the 4-6 minute format. As on many of the songs, the melodic passages are among the most interesting, a theme continued on Supernatural and The Silver Queen, featuring catchy and enthusiastic vocal and guitar breaks wafting above the propulsive beat. The vocal interplay and harmonies are especially dominant on the latter, benefiting from Rice's backing on organ, and from singers Raine Hicks, Jackie Johnson, and Reba Russell who add depth to a performance that builds to a dense climax following the brief piano and vocal introduction. The instrumental Skunk features another guest, saxophonist Lee Sharp, whose terse lines stand in contrast to the rapid fire guitar riffs and otherwise quickly paced rhythm punctuated by frequent stops and starts and near breakdowns. Bugs, with Richard Cushing in a humorous guest role as "The Exterminator," begins to push the experimental envelope farther than the previous songs, with incessant jamming throughout that culminates in a pseudo-punk rock riff at the end, giving way to studio effects that segue into the next song. The Ravine is a dreamy piece that drifts along like a mountain walk until it is interrupted by the guitar climax in the middle, and fades out again with nebulous piano playing and a return to the original theme. When the instrumental buildup comes along to introduce the next song in the continuing medley, Bigwheel, the energy returns and the band once again kicks it into high gear, jamming until the song's fade out. Of course, the album is not without any eclectic elements, as the short Luke's Dream, a didjeridoo and percussion piece, emphasizes the band's thirst for experimentation, and the following track, Spread is unlike any other in this collection. Beginning essentially like a slowly moving pop song with acoustic guitar and piano, it suddenly breaks into a livelier tempo with the addition of electric instruments that leave behind the emotive opening passages. The final song and the longest on the album, Dinero, functions largely in the same manner, beginning with acoustic and slide guitar interweaving around a steadily rolling beat, eventually building into a driving jam that propels the piece to its conclusion. It is apparent that after years of playing together, the members of the Memphis Jones Revolution are comfortable enough with each other and their guests to put together one of the most cohesive recordings to come out of Memphis in past years. They are seemingly on the right path to attaining their stated goal: "to propel Memphis music into the ears of the people with as distinct of a flavor as they have come to expect from such a musically blessed place as this." Musically, the band is quite adept considering that they have only been playing together for a few years. For a first release, "The Memphis Jones Revolution" marks a strong step forward. The only complaints I have with the album are mostly functions of the recording and mixing processes, as the vocals are consistently high in the mix, yet sound thin and tinny throughout, and in some places, the bass is severely undermined by the other instruments. Nevertheless, Mempho records has performed quite a service to the community by releasing this disc, a hint of what has been brewing in the local scene for years, and of what is yet to emerge. If not the revolution of the mind, this is certainly a revolution for the ear.
"Beautiful Lazy" - the Urban Hillbilly
Quartet It was a simply stated question I received via email that brought Minnesota's The Urban Hillbilly Quartet into my life: "How can we interest you in our jammish band?" Well, I visited the band's website and a few MP3 listens later, I was interested. I asked for a copy of their latest release, "Beautiful Lazy," which was sent with a note that explained how it doesn't really reflect their jammy side but is a good reflection of the variety of styles they play. We all know that studio releases can be hit and miss when it comes to capturing the live vibe, so I tried it out with an open mind and I've been listening to it since. The core of the Twin Cities-based band includes Sena Thompson (fiddle, vocals), Erik Brandt (guitar, accordion, mandolin, tin whistle, harmonica, lead vocals), Jeremy Szopinski (electric guitar), and Greg Tippett (fretted and fretless basses). They cite The Jaybawks, Uncle Tupelo, Georgia's Vigilantes of Love, Canada's Bruce Cockburn, and folk/jazz star David Grisman as influences. UHQ has been compared to Guadalcanal Diary, The Grateful Dead, and 16 Horsepower, but I found their music to be pretty hard to pin down aside from a lazy alt-country designation -rock, country, and jazz... yeah, we've all heard jambands described that way before - but this one fully explores the different genres, at least the rock and country ones. UHQ's fiddle and mandolin add a touch of bluegrass, the accordion brings some fun into it, and the harmonica pulls some foot-stompin' blues into the mix. Great backing vocals by Sena Thompson, tight drums, and solid bass round out the sound. I think what separates this band from other groups with country influences is that UHQ lends itself to whiskey drinking more than happy hippie bands like String Cheese Incident and Leftover Salmon do. An example of this is the first track on the disk, titled Blood on the Door, and the insistent I Will Wait. These songs rock out just a tad more angrily than I'm used to hearing from a jamband, and I like it. Others are melancholy and sometimes even woeful, like the phenomenal tune Wallflower. The instrumental Amy's Ring Waltz shows the band's technical prowess, and songs like I Need You and Love On The Way make me reconsider my cynicism. Finally, Brandt's lyrics are definitely memorable:
Some sure get famous "Beautiful Lazy"'s wide-ranging styles lifted me up, knocked me down, and made me misty all in one listen.
self-titled - the Nick
Savage Band Now here's an interesting little item. It's the self-titled release from the Nick Savage Band. Albums like this surely have corporate record labels shaking in their collective wing-tips. Not because it's destined as a rock-and-roll masterpiece. Not because Jambands.com discovered the hottest up-and-coming rocker before they did. Not even because Nick is able to convey his love for the Rainbow Family and his passion for hair styling within the same website that he promotes his music on. The most distinctive thing about this album is that Nick Savage, aided by three of his musical compatriots, essentially created and produced the whole darn thing by himself. Even the cover art and pictures of the players are grainy and obviously scanned onto a computer, then printed out. This is as close to homemade as any musician(s) can get. He also used the same kind of software (Cakewalk) to mix and track the album that my dad uses to score the high-school plays in my hometown. He even calls his outfit in Stone Mountain, GA, "Makeshift Studios." As I hinted above, the album is far form spectacular, but the fact that he produced it at all is a testament to how quickly the digital music revolution is progressing. The album has eight tracks on it, averaging about four minutes apiece. As the title of the band and album imply, Nick Savage, on guitar and vocals, is the focal point on most of the tracks. His voice is somewhat distinctive at points, but tends to sound a little whiny at times. Andrew Fazackerly does a good job backing him on organ and piano, but he's mostly doing just that - staying in the background. His work on Spryte carries that song and the jam that is contained within it. The first track, The Otherside, has a good guitar hook to it, but tends to be a little top-heavy as the guitar levels and vocals are always peaking at the same moments, drowning each other out. I personally don't know anything about how to work a studio board, so I can't fault Savage for his first time out. That's just one of the risks you take when one person has complete control over the creative process. There are other examples of this as well. The last track, Slips Away, is the strongest on the album from a musical standpoint (the guitar lines are very distinctive) and should not have been saved for the end. Higher Ground has a funky, bluesy groove to it that derives influence from some of the late Junior Kimbrough's work. Savage's vocals here sound pretty good as he makes successful use of some distortion effects. Nick Longo from Nice Guy Syndrome lends some Saxophone to this track as well, but in some spots they are overlapping the vocals, again nullifying both elements. She Plays Guitar On Sunday reveals a few of the weaknesses of the album. The lyrics are too repetitive and don't really have any profound statements to make. Here Savage's vocals don't have enough range in them, either. God Loves A Clown is a little more interesting as it seems to make reference to the free-spirited nature of the Rainbow Tribe Of Living Light that Savage is a devout believer in. At the same time, I have to use his own lyrics against him, "30 minutes later, I wonder where he's going." The chorus is repeated too many times both at the middle and end of the song. Overall, there are some interesting elements on this album, most notably the contributions of Fazackerly and Longo. The only problem is that they are not added to the mix in proportionate doses to the vocals and guitar of Savage. There is no doubt that Savage's heart and bravado are the only reason this album was made, so he deserves the credit for putting his name on the line. Perhaps with some experience and help from another ear or two in the studio, the future releases of the Nick Savage Band will be better balanced. In any case, this album should serve as inspiration for young musicians everywhere. It is proof that you can make an album without having to land a major label deal or spend untold fortunes just to have your own style of music on disc. Every guitar-slinging troubadour may not be destined for fame and fortune, but each one deserves an equal shot.
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