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INDEX TO SECTION
"Farmhouse" - Phish
"Farmhouse" - Phish One way to judge an album is by a measure of whether or not the artist was successful in doing what he wanted to do. In other words: did it come out the way he wanted it? Normally, one can only engage in mild speculation about the inherent potential of a song. With Phish, this issue becomes a slippery proposition due to the band's usual operating procedures. They present songs live long before they ever lay them to tape in the studio. Thus, what they are trying to do is up to severe interpretation. If one considers an album a collection of definitive versions of songs, then Phish fans have long had the opportunity to view works in progress. Some of the songs on "Farmhouse" have been played live for the better part of the last three years. During that time, it would seem that the band's intentions with the songs should have become obvious. Perhaps that's the reason why the songs on "Farmhouse" don't sound so much new as they do comfortable and, above all, finished. With "Farmhouse", Phish has come as close they ever have - since "Junta", anyway - to presenting a collection of realized songs, mining the potential of each tune enough to make the listener understand the way a song works, but not so much as to go overboard. These are tightly coiled versions of songs that, when the time is right, can unwind swiftly and gracefully. They work like concise jazz sides: come in, blow the solos, and get out. For all the same reasons, it's also - perhaps - the safest album Phish has ever made. They sound perfectly at home. In Carlos Castaneda's "the Teachings of Don Juan", the teacher don Juan speaks of a sitio, a precise spot "where a man [can] feel naturally happy and strong". He urges his young apprentice to take as long as he needs to find it. With "Farmhouse", it seems that Phish has finally found their's -- literally, with the new recording studio in guitarist Trey Anastasio's barn, and figuratively, with the band sounding more at ease together than they ever have in the studio. The music doesn't so much take risks as it remains steadfast in what it already knows. It's mature and stately. That's not to say it's not surprising or fresh, because it is. The brass part on Gotta Jibboo, for example, continues with the idea of a horn section as a textural instrument begun on the outro of Birds Of A Feather on "Story Of The Ghost". Some of the parts are somewhat obvious and border on cliché, but like most rock clichés on this album, they work. Clichés are overused for a reason. For the most part, though, the horns burble just below the surface without ever becoming obtrusive. During the jam, in fact, they do quite the opposite: they blend perfectly into the bed of sound at the core of the song, forming long, steady chords that aren't outwardly discernible. The songs on this album - Jibboo and First Tube, specifically - seem to be related, in a weird way, to gospel music. These recordings exude a great joy. The first time I heard First Tube, which might be the best track on the disc, I was overwhelmed. I wrote down a quick reaction: "My god. They got it so right. The build in the jam is perfect. I can't stop thinking about the song's crest, so I'm gonna write about that first: layers keep getting added; it's just a twinkling, shimmering, beautiful wall of sound. Trey gets into that really cool, octavized sound he uses about nine minutes into What's The Use [on "the Siket Disc"]. In What's The Use, it's the focus... here, it's just another layer." Like the horn part on Jibboo, this arrangement is full of nifty surprises. Somewhere in the middle of the build, as more and more voices are added to the mix, two unexpected treats peak through: Bela Fleck's banjo and Jerry Douglas's dobro. Listening to the mix as a whole, they're barely audible. Picking them out is easy. Every instrument occupies its own distinguishable spot in the sonic spectrum. Likewise, Sand is another successful attempt at creating a textural tapestry. Pianist Page McConnell is easily the most under appreciated band member in this incarnation of Phish's sound. Throughout, he plays a lot of very, very quiet organ parts that subtly shape the sound as a whole. Occasionally, the clichés become a little too much. Heavy Things is a wonderful song that seems to be slightly overwrought. The beauty of the song lies in its simplicity -- how much a four-piece band can do with what they have (looping pedals included). There are an abundance of guitar overdubs on here, acoustic and electric, mostly in the way of lame background fills. They're completely unnecessary. Not only do they clutter up the sound, but they're just a little too damn hippie. The same sorts of problems plague Back On The Train. Other songs - the title track, Bug, and Dirt - are carried by moderately generic structures. In each case, there is something to carry the tune over the hump of blandness. That something seems to be an extra warmth in the mix that has all but been absent from previous Phish discs. Bug and Dirt are held together by somewhat somber statements of melodies played by bassist Mike Gordon. While the songs fit the mold of traditional rock ballads (one can sing Oh! Sweet Nuthin' by the Velvet Underground on top of Bug) there is something distinctly different about their dynamics -- different instruments and beats are emphasized in the mix. At once, they become powerful songs in their own right as well as comments on what has come before. The biggest surprise about this album - and the thing that makes it listenable throughout, despite any other reservations one might have - is that Trey Anastasio has finally learned how to sing. Beginning with the introduction of Los Lobos's When The Circus Comes into the Phish repertoire in early 1997, Anastasio's voice began to fully mature. Previously, when he wanted to sing sensitively, he would just sing quietly. On "Farmhouse", Anastasio sings expressively throughout the disc, delivering more than just an on-key vocal performance. He actually uses his voice as an instrument, highlighting the nuances of Tom Marshall's lyrics -- which have also seem to reach a new level of maturity. All of the elements come together on the rarely played Sleep, which is probably the emotional core of the album. Anastasio and McConnell combine for a stunning vocal duet on top of an extremely delicate arrangement which - like the album as a whole - works as a complete statement. The music manages to retain a quality of relaxed exuberance. Like Dylan and the Band's "Basement Tapes" or any one of the recent Garcia/Grisman releases, it sounds like music Phish would have made anyway, regardless of whether or not they were going to release it.
"The Pizza Tapes" - Jerry Garcia, David Grisman, Tony Rice Mandolin master David Grisman, guitarist Tony Rice and the late Jerry Garcia bottled this bolt of lightning on February 4-5, 1993 -- a year in which Garcia's passion for playing Grateful Dead music was audibly on the wane. Fortunately, as evidenced by each of his late collaborations with Grisman and others, Jerry could always be trusted to catch fire with an acoustic guitar in his hands and able pickers at his side. Bluegrass was always his soul music, and these spontaneous, blistering sessions document a happy homecoming. According to lore, an unscrupulous pizza delivery boy pilfered these tapes from Garcia's kitchen and put them into circulation. I'll be honest; it was news to me. I hadn't heard the tapes, or even of them, and so my first journey into the music was as chock full of blissful surprises as it obviously was for the musicians. In fact, this session was such a revelation for the players that "The Pizza Tapes" are worth seeking for the moments of banter alone (which are labeled as "Appetizers" and digitally separated into individual tracks). "I done fucked it up already," Garcia chuckles, as he aborts the intro to Man of Constant Sorrow. After they regroup to deliver the tune in letter-perfect fashion, the banter and revelry continue. "This is gonna be a hoot!" Jerry crows. Truer words were never spoke. Between the repartee, the songs unfold like flowers. The nascent trio winds and glides through unexpected classics (Long Black Veil, Amazing Grace), enlightening traditionals (Louis Collins, Drifting Too Far From the Shore) and jewel-like jams, turning every conceivable stone along the path. The playing is exploratory and masterful, but the listening is beyond that. It's intimate, respectful and complete. Most folks won't have any trouble distinguishing Garcia's picking from Tony Rice's, nor hearing how precisely each communicates with the other. They demonstrate superb free-jazz interplay on Shady Jam, with Garcia spinning yarns on lead as Rice chords along, building tension beneath. Ever so patiently, Grisman enters, filling space, adding color, asking new questions, completing the conversation. On a dime, the trio drops into a sparkling version of Shady Grove. When it's all over, Garcia is nearly in shambles. "Oh, gosh," he gushes, "oh, jeez." We know exactly what he means. The other jam/song pairing on the CD enchants just as well. Guitar Space drifts through mysterious passages dripping with gentle sorrow and grace, gradually finding structure, until we find ourselves in the playful, warm throes of Gershwin's Summertime. If nine finer minutes of musical craftsmanship exist, I'd love to hear them. For those who appreciate the nuance and unique expression in Garcia's voice, "The Pizza Tapes" are especially essential. His singing on Louis Collins is like a fine cashmere scarf, his vocals on Amazing Grace like warm apple butter melting into the holes of a perfectly toasted slice of rye. "The Pizza Tapes" is that rare combination of technical skill, creative spark, and genuine emotion that makes for magical improvisation. Pour yourself a whiskey, dim the lights, and let this music wash over your soul.
"Bump" - John
Scofield One of the elder statesmen of fusion and funk, John Scofield is best known in the jamband world for 1998's "A Go Go", which boasted Medeski, Martin, and Wood as its rhythm section and turned the heads of many jamband fans with an interest in fusion. Now Sco is back with "Bump", a fine disc that once again draws on the contributions of many talented younger musicians -- MMW's Chris Wood, drummer Eric Kalb and percussionist Johnny Durkin of Deep Banana Blackout, bassist Tony Scherr and drummer Kenny Wolleson of Sex Mob, and Soul Coughing's mad scientist of the keyboard sampler, Mark Di Gli Antoni. But, whereas "A Go Go" was the answer to the question "what if John Scofield and Medeski, Martin, Wood went into the studio together?" and little more, "Bump" is much greater than the sum of its players. The eleven new Scofield charts which comprise the album are excellent, the sound of a composer with a lot to say and nothing to prove. The tunes range from the minimal straight-up funk of Three Sisters and Blackout to the haunting noir of Groan Man and Kilgeffen while preserving the unity of their composer's voice and providing the perfect backdrop for his flexible, lyrical guitar. There are no other melody instruments on "Bump" - every track is Sco with some combination of bass, drums, percussion, and keyboard sampler - and he shines as the sole lead voice, at times emulating bass, piano, percussion, horns, and the electronic transmissions of the keyboard sampler while sticking closely to the vocabulary of funk-fusion guitar. And it is a tribute to Scofield's depth and versatility that his guitar communicates playfully and naturally with all of his sidemen -- even Di Gli Antoni's nearly subliminal scrapes, hisses, and squeals. As a band leader Scofield draws impressive contributions from his rhythm sections, which, while keeping mostly restrained and supportive of their bandleader, lock in tight with Sco and one another, each personality contributing subtly and tastefully on almost every tune. Durkin and Kalb rise admirably to the occasion of playing with a man who is surely an influence, laying out wonderfully interlocking Latin and Caribbean polyrhythms without ever becoming overpowering. Di Gli Antoni's ambient sounds quietly suggest and reinforce moods in his marvelously abstract way, and he even steps forward for a few solos, which fit wonderfully into the tunes despite coming from a very different planet from the music they compliment. And Wood, on his three tracks, confidently confirms my assessment of him as one of jazz's greatest living bassists - he never solos or ever plays a particularly prominent part, but his articulate and intelligent counterpoint breathes vivid life into whatever it accompanies. "Bump" does occasionally stumble towards the lite jazz which has afflicted so many of Scofield's fusion contemporaries, but only for brief passages and never at the expense of musical integrity. And its forays in that direction are more than compensated for by Sco's commitment to staying current and pushing his own boundaries with each release. Unfortunately, the album fails to capture the fire and froth of John Scofield live, but it succeeds admirably as a showcase of John Scofield as composer, bandleader, and living legend of the electric guitar.
"3.1" - moe. "3.1" is the specially priced third disc of moe's recently released "L," available only through moe.'s merchandise service, moe.crap. The tracks on the disc were all recorded at the Fillmore in San Francisco on November 26, 1999, one of the several nights recorded in order to gather material for "L." "3.1" shouldn't be viewed as an album in its own right, but rather a bonus to what has already been captured on "L." The disc features three songs, interestingly enough one by guitarist/vocalist Al Schnier (Moth), one by guitarist/vocalist Chuck Garvey (Hi and Lo), and one by bassist/vocalist Rob Derhak (Brent Black). Al wrote Moth after finding one stuck in a screen door at his Oneonta College home when coming home from an all-night keg party. This is the third time the song has been officially released, the other two times being on "Loaf" (1995-96) and "No Doy" (1996). While the version on "3.1" is superior to these previous takes and clearly demonstrates how far the band has come in terms of perfecting their sound, it also demonstrates how little Moth has changed over the years. Whether seven minutes or twenty-two minutes, Moth has always maintained the same basic structure. The one exception to this on "3.1" is the unique intro jam. The track starts out with this stripped but unmistakably Moth tinged jam with Al playing a Moth-esque theme that could be straight out of an Allman Brothers song. This intro jam is somewhat rare for Moth, and is probably the highlight of the track. This version also features Al singing The Itsy Bitsy Spider instead of the normal "You know sometimes it might be difficult^Ý" line, and the crowd at the Fillmore readily joins in with him. The majority of the track is taken up by the middle jam of Moth, which is much more emphasized than on "Loaf" or "No Doy." This jam is funk driven yet, at the same time, too dark to be straight out funk. It is also a jam I personally have never been satisfied by in that it sounds too much like Meat but without the over-the-top intensity. Nevertheless, drummer Vinnie Amico does some great work in the jam, pushing and pulling the tempo throughout. This is perhaps my favorite thing about Vinnie's style, though unfortunately it is something he has done a lot less of since the addition of Jim Loughlin on percussion. Al and Rob also show some impressive coordination in their parts towards the end of the jam, which concludes, following a return to typical Al soloing, with the "darkness - stop - take deep break - burst into lightness" reprise of the chorus. Overall, this is a noteworthy twenty-two minute version of Moth that stands well above the versions previously released on album. However, it is far from being mind-boggling moe. material, especially if you're like me and find the Moth middle jam to be only moderately fulfilling and even a bit unoriginal. Hi and Lo is an absolutely beautiful Chuck song, sadly enough one of the few Chuck songs moe. has to claim to its repertoire. When "Tin Cans and Car Tires" (1998) was first released, I read a review that described Hi and Lo as "space-age pop" or something along those lines. I found that description very suiting and it has since stuck with me. Yet to categorize the song as pop perhaps takes away from its musical and lyrical deepness. The song as a whole flows like a series of philosophical ponderings. The segue after Hi and Lo is essential in that it allows the band to develop the excellent musical themes in the song, something the band doesn't do when the song is played stand-alone. This is perhaps a tactic the band should start using to open up other short but theme-filled songs. The extension of Hi and Lo features classic lyrical guitar work from Chuck in which he creates a passionately played theme which he continuously builds on. Unfortunately, Chuck never takes the theme to completion - it is clear that the segue into Brent Black is calling. This segue into Brent Black, a Rob song inspired by a college professor of his, is somewhat immediate in that the switching of modes happens at once as opposed to being steadily drawn out. The sound quality on Brent Black is superb, perhaps even better than that on the studio version from "Headseed" (1994). Rob's voice is fittingly raw with a slight reverb, and the piercing guitar harmonies couldn't come across any better. Chuck wraps up his confidently played solo with climaxing distortion, although the rest of the song is somewhat mediocre. The percussion solos are uneventful and even begin to drag on with the huge exception of Jim banging his sticks on Rob's bass, which sounds like a ten thousand man army trampling through your speakers. The use of percussion is a lot more effective when backing the band instead of being separated, and while the rotating solo approach that brings about such percussion solos is somewhat effective in a song like Brent Black, it also becomes a lot less musically explorative and interesting in comparison to the band jamming as an interactive unit. Al's solo is uninspiring, with its climax falling back into a cheap, almost inappropriate trotting rhythm forcing a quick climax. As a result, Rob's return into the "hapless victims" line is all the less fulfilling. For $8, "3.1" is certainly worth the buy. Moth and Brent Black, while not brilliant, are considerably better than their previous appearances in album form. The Hi and Lo is perhaps the gem of the disc, with a beautiful extension of the song's theme that alone warrants its purchase. It is only unfortunate that the band did not make use of the twenty-three or so remaining minutes on the CD. Chuck's glory as a guitar player still stands to be captured on an official release. I along with my fellow Chuck fanatics can only shake our heads at the fact that the Four from the 9:30 Club was not included on one of these recent live releases.
"Live At The Wetlands Preserve, New York City 11.19.99" - ulu It seems as if it is finally time for this New York City-based, saxophone-driven, dance-happy bunch of jazzy funksters called ulu to get the attention they very much deserve. An example of some of their best work is featured on the new release of "Live at Wetlands: 11.19.99": a wonderfully produced CD documenting one of the best Ulu shows to take place thus far, at one of the most well-known jamband-friendly venues out there. Normally, I have trouble finding myself enjoying solely instrumental groups like ulu, as I truly dig vocals and harmonies, and look towards lyrical genius to shape certain songs into stories. However, ulu does allow me to move away from that mindset for the most part; for the first time in a long while, I was able to enjoy a strictly instrumental band without the constant yearning for some vocal bliss. After attending the show back in November, I remember walking out of it feeling satisfied. Hearing it now, I am able to relive those same feelings, which is a very good indication of not only smart production, but a band that definitely has incredible potential. Although it is sometimes a bit unclear what is actually improvised and what is composed, songs like The Grape and Crooked provide the listener with very tight instrumentation. There is not too much of long, drawn-out jamming, however, sometimes songs like SMB have the tendency to drone. ulu is a young band, still trying to mesh together and be musically unified. Although many of the tracks are brilliantly written and move along nicely, ulu is not quite there yet. Give them some more time to really learn from one another, and we could have some big guns on our hands. However, it is definitely time to notice a band that can take old-school Nintendo games and fit them into their jams. ulu is very well known for their uncanny rendition of the theme from Super Mario Brothers, not only reworking the main theme, but the underworld level as well! (For those who remember the game, think of it this way: they go from 1-1 -> 1-2 beautifully!) Indeed, this has served as a highlight at many ulu shows, and certainly serves as such on the release. This makes it easier to enjoy songs like Dance of Franastan; although structured quite well, it does not reach the musical goals I think it was set out for. On the flipside, a song like Personaface is what ulu should probably strive to achieve more of; this sixteen-minute long sonic journey is the essence of a full instrumentation jam, with saxophone lines that are still echoing through my soul now. The effects on the instruments such as the flute and the saxophone are remarkable. Personaface falls short when the baritone saxophone is a bit too persistent, though, and should perhaps yield to the drum and bass a bit more to produce the most pleasing sound. Although they do have their occasional shortcomings, ulu is a band worth seeing live often and this release is a necessity for anyone whose collection longs for improvised instrumentalists with a creative edge that seems to be missing these days elsewhere. It will be amazing to watch this band grow.
"One Endless Night" - Jimmie Dale Gilmore The dusty country road takes the adventurer into the heart of American music. In the ditch by this road rest old LPs, with names such as Gram Parsons, Roy Acuff, Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline, Emmylou Harris and the Carter Family. Jimmie Dale Gilmore has traveled this road numerous times; jotted down notes, stray chordal changes and sucked in the pine-ridden air. One day while upon the road, a car, filled with the Judie and Buddy Miller, Emmylou Harris and Victoria Williams decided to pick up the weary road traveler. After picking him up, they liked his sound, and decided to create a record, embodying those old LPs and the dusty road. "One Endless Night" may be the finest country/rock album released in recent memory. Certain people will obviously argue this point, citing Wilco's "Being There" or Whiskeytown's "Faithless Street" as finer examples. While both albums by Wilco and Whiskeytown are beautiful, they do not embody the weariness and sincerity of Gilmore's album. Consisting primarily of covers, "One Endless Night" carries the listener through the history of country music. From Banks of the Guadalupe with its Spanish influences reminiscent to Willie Nelson's Latin excursions, to the country classic Georgia Rose, every decent sound emitted from country music surfaces. However, no "honky-tonk" exists on "One Endless Night," and the new sound of country remains eschewed. In fact, Gilmore's "One Endless Night" sounds like an old country album. The earlier comment about Willie Nelson could be pertinent in describing the entire feel of the album, with its mellow, western, riding on a horse through the desert feel. In this way, the music here also sounds remarkably similar to some of New Riders of the Purple Sages early excursions into country music, often more folk then country and coming from a year earlier then 1969. While listening to Gilmore's sound, the scent of desert sage emits from the stereo speakers. True, country music, connecting the listener to the dusty road and those damn Gram Parsonss albums. The song which will raise the most attention for Deadheads, obviously is Ripple. For those who enjoyed the "American Beauty" version by the Grateful Dead, a kinship will be found with Gilmores take on the classic song. Definitely more countrified, with a dobro and Gilmore's dry, brandy coated voice. However, once could postulate that Gilmore, with his friends,, make a better version of the song, possibly displaying Garcia and Hunter's true vision. As soon as a fiddle solo appears two and a half minutes in, this version appears to surpass the original. While certainly open for debate, Gilmore - not unlike the rest of the album - displays his talent at reinterpreting other people's material. By singing with such sentiment and honesty, Ripple could be out of key and the emotion would still exist. This makes "One Endless Night" such a fabulous album. It's not the all-star cast, nor the choice of songs, but Gilmore's singing ability. As he sings, the listener imagines a sandy, tiny-pebble laden road, and a man walking briskly by the side. That individual may be Jimmie Dale Gilmore, so pull over and pick him up and do not worry about those old LPs in the ditch, Gilmore will take care of their fine, grain-embodied memories.
"Shake Hands With Shorty" - North Mississippi All-Stars Each individual album from any particular band serves as a testament, a measuring stick of sorts, marking where a band is in the present and pointing to where they are going in the future. Most good albums are also filled with elements from the past. The first official release from the North Mississippi All-Stars, "Shake Hands With Shorty," is a musical documentary of the blues influences of northern Mississippi, translated through the rough and powerful interpretation of brothers Cody and Luther Dickinson, as well as their friend and bassist Chris Chew. With a host of special guests, notably neighbors Cedric and Gary Burnside, the album paints a picture of realism: life and love, traveling and torment. Many of the songs on the album contain parts of old blues songs passed down through the ages. This should be no surprise since Luther has also worked with and learned from nonagenarian blues and folk pioneer Otha Turner. Ultimately what makes this album truly amazing is that the brothers produced and mixed the whole thing themselves. The resulting sound is so powerful and true that they accomplished on their first album what most artists don't even attempt. Shake 'em On Down, the first song on the album, is perhaps its most experimental. The distortion effects used on the vocals and flute interlude in the middle aren't usually elements of a blues-influenced album, but that's the first signal that this is no ordinary offering. Both here and throughout the album, the North Mississippi All-Stars take the blues tradition of Fred McDowell and crank the intensity up a couple of notches. They manage to do it all without upsetting the balance in the message and delivery of the songs. The background vocals on the first track are a critical element of the tune, but they are so short and pointed that they do no more than what they are supposed to do: support the rest of the song. On Drop Down Mama, Luther Dickinson alternates between a grinding lead line and clearer, stringier slide guitar licks a few moments later. The second track is only four minutes long as it was cut on the album, but the translation from studio to stage is not hard to imagine. All the elements of a long, exploratory jam are in there, but they're refined down to a manageable size. The next two tracks, Po' Black Maddie and Skinny Woman segue right into each other, just like they would in a live performance. Here the smooth and simple bass lines from Chew provide a platform for the vocal combinations that tell the story of going to Memphis to see the world's fair. Why go to Memphis? "Because my baby's there," of course. Slide guitar lines are layered upon one another to create a rich texture. Ultimately the jam at the end sounds very much like an old-school Allman Brothers jam before breaking down into a quick drum solo and rolling back through the chorus one more time. Drinkin' Muddy Water is a descriptive name for the next track. The guitar tone is hazy, murky, almost drunk. The annunciation of the vocals is true to the oral tradition: "Lawd, I'z goin' somewheres, I ain't never been before." In just about three minutes, the Dickinson Brothers serve up a slice of Mississippi Mud Pie for Chris (to) Chew up. The first single released from the album, Drinkin' Muddy Water, is already getting significant radio play in markets nation-wide. The last five songs on the album follow in the same vein. The All-Stars tighten down the screws on songs like the R.L. Burnside road anthem Goin' Down South. That track also features R.L.'s grandson Cedric Burnside playing drums along with Cody Dickinson. K.C. Jones and Station Blues represent the All-Star's own unique treatment of many different blues themes. The songs are easily identifiable because they have been played prominent roles in the development of rock-and-roll music throughout American history. The Grateful Dead started out as a folk band playing songs similar to these not too long before their music took a psychedelic turn. Someday, Baby may sound familiar to fans of the Allman Brothers. They recorded a different version of this tune as Trouble Me No More from their legendary concerts at the Fillmore East in 1971. Of course what makes all of this work so well is the Dickinson's own interpretations of the material. Their production and mixing aren't too shabby either. They don't waste time and space with any unnecessary effects. Every part of the album is essential, all the way through the 16 minute version of All Night Long with the long, gospel breakdown at the end. The influences there are so thick you need a ladle just to sample them. This album paints a picture of roots, the kind that grow in the ground, deep down in Mississippi. The artists are more than competent, and the adventurous attitude they bring to the material is infectious. This is not an album for all music fans. This is an album for music fans that love rock-and-roll.
"Emerald Aether: Shape Shifting" - Bill Laswell Shanachie Records 78035 This album came as a complete shock to me. I thought I was in for some Irish jamband, taking a traditional tune and playing it for twenty minutes, with some bagpipe solos and other crap like that. The joke's on me, I guess, having never heard of Bill Laswell before I got this disc. It appears I was a little bit mistaken. While there are no credits on the album, it appears that Laswell took a handful of quality musicians into the studio, laid down some tracks of them playing traditional-sounding Irish music, then told them to get the hell out, and started getting serious. First, he carefully wove together all of the tunes, giving the entire album the feeling of being one long song, with numerous different movements. Then - and here's where I started to freak out - he starts laying down the beats. After a mellow introduction that sounds vaguely like the Braveheart soundtrack, a few synthesized sounds begin to creep in, followed almost immediately by a driving hip-hop beat to start The Stride Set. What? But the amazing thing is that it works. Extremely well. He doesn't just take the tunes and lay beats on top of them, they are actually weaved in so tightly with the other instruments, that they become necessary to the song. A banjo and a fiddle quickly follow the drum beat's entry, playing furious melodies on top of it. One would think that it was the Irish who first invented hip hop. I thought that The Stride Set had set the stage for the rest of the album.. I started to worry that the whole Irish/Hip-Hop thing would start to wear thin if I had to listen to another 45 minutes of it. Good thing I was wrong again. Fade into The Labouring Man's Daughter, which immediately drops the hip-hop for trip-hop, and comes off as an Irish version of Portishead, complete with eerie female singer. These three styles: Airy and Traditional, Hip-Hop, and Trip-Hop, continue for another few tracks, until we get to Dark Green, where the disc takes another hard turn. This time, Trance enters the mix. Hard. And it's not alone.. it brought its good friend, Jungle. A lead in is provided by the mellow accordion and classical guitar in La Bruxa, then furious electronic beats start fading in and out rapidly to start The Hare In The Heather. At this point, I'm completely sold on Laswell's concept. He is able to bring in these hard, driving beats, without relying on any hard bass to drive the song. Instead, he really seems interested in letting the music tell whatever story he is trying to relate. As said in the liner notes, "Recombined, reconfigured, even remixed, Irish art may owe a debt to the foreign influences of its past and the unforeseen paths of its wanderings to come, yet somehow for these very reasons it remains distinctly Irish to its core... New technologies demand new voices." Word.
"The Stolen Bicycle" - Boud Deun The album art on Boud Deun's "The Stolen Bicycle" is very cute, and I don't mean that in a bad way. In fact, it was quite refreshing to see a young band on the scene not caught up in the tie-dyed, swirly, fractal clichés one might usually witness on album covers. The black-and-white drawing of a kid on a bicycle folds out into an entire story of, you got it, "The Stolen Bicycle." I won't give any of that away, though. You can check it out on your own. Now for the music. Boud Deun consists of the typical lineup of guitar (Shawn Persinger), bass (Matt Eiland), and drums (Rocky Cancelose), but also thrown into the mix is a violinist (Greg Hiser), who not only augments their sound to give it an original flair, but strengthens it as well. The first track on the disc, Waterford features tight fingerwork from guitarist Persinger, complete with a blend of distorted and clean tones. On top of that is Hiser's violin, weaving in and out, occasionally playing in unison with Eiland's bass. If the song is any indication of what is to come on the album (it is), this band is into tight arrangements and unusual meters (when I could pick it out, I heard a little of 5 and a little of 7). Of the disc's eighteen tracks, the middle fourteen comprise a hefty suite entitled Churches. Of the fourteen tracks, three of them are divided up into sections, each of which has its own name. Looking at the track listing can be overwhelming, since most of us jambands listeners are used to hearing a few long songs running over seven minutes; however, on this disc, the longest track clocks in at just under six minutes, and the shortest is just over one. The quick shifting between songs, especially in Churches, keeps the listener on his or her respective toes, providing variation but also a continuous flow of music. The suite begins with Belfast, all three instruments playing in unison, and drummer Cancelose backing them solidly. The jaunty rhythms are still there, proving that this is a serious group of musicians who probably listened to a lot of Zappa and prog rock back in the day. The second section of Churches, entitled Saints, is the first point in the album where the band takes a break from the fast-paced pieces it usually performs. Over a beautifully subtle bass line, Hiser gets to show off his talent on the violin once again. Persinger joins in, and the two play together in a soothing classically-influenced melody. The song seems to abruptly jump back into the rhythmic craziness typical of the album, but when one looks closely, it is apparent that it is not Saints anymore at that point, but a tight segue into the next track, Cotton's Sermon. Beginning with No River Deserves a King and through the two parts of the next piece, Ten Pence and Bridges, Boud Deun proves that they can be just as rocking as they are technical. Persinger turns up the distortion and Cancelose lets loose on the drums. The last chord of Bridges is the first chord of A Terrible Accident, demonstrating yet another creative transition between tracks. The pace keeps up until Orlando/Jacks, the ninth track on the disc. This type of balance between upbeat and mellow works in Boud Deun's favor, because their continuity is quite fluid throughout the entire suite. In Burnsville, the band goes from zero to sixty in about two seconds, then slows down again, only to bring the pace up with a giant build moments later. They continue to play with this up-and-down motif for the duration of the album. This is truly an album to be listened to in its entirety, because one of the most important things about it is catching the clever segues from one section of Churches to another. This is an album for listeners who are craving a little more structure in what they hear, and a little less free-form jamming. (Granted, I have not seen Boud Deun live, and therefore cannot say whether or not they expand more onstage than they do on their album.) However, I can assuredly say that this album features nothing but extremely tight playing from a group of musicians obviously well-disciplined and trained in many genres of music. And as far as I'm concerned, that's what the jambands scene needs right about now.
"Here's The Deal" - Liquid
Soul As the rising tide of the jamband movement continues to swell, all sorts of musicians and groups are being carried away by it. The variety of CDs reviews on these pages can certainly attest to the fact that music being made today is as diverse and original as ever before. Within this diversity, there is also a good bit of cross over and fusion of sounds. Liquid Soul represents both the diversity of the scene and the mixture of sounds as disparate as funk, jazz, soul, and hip-hop, all within the 45 minutes of music they recorded on this album. Indeed, there are 12 musicians and artists who contributed to the album in one way or another, and they all get full billing in the liner notes. Mars Williams, saxophonist and leader of the horn section, produced the album and also had a good bit of creative influence throughout. In addition to the saxes, trumpet, and trombone, Liquid Soul has your standard guitar, bass, drum, and percussion players to give them a backbone to build their grooves around. What makes their sound more complex and experimental than other jazz/groove combos is the inclusion of a DJ and a couple of rappers on a few tracks. Borrowing influence from the Digable Planets and other hip-hop artists definitely gives this album a little extra zing, as does the inclusion of Simone on vocals on a couple of tracks. Her contributions to Liquid Soul pale in comparison to her work as the lead of the Broadway musical "Rent" for two years. What I found to be most interesting about this album is the mixture of New Orleans jazz sounds with Chicago and Memphis blues influences. Being based out of Chicago, Liquid Soul certainly carries on the tradition of the blues and soul pioneers of their own town, and this creates interesting parallels between some of the sounds coming out of New Orleans and Memphis right now. They have rhythm and rap combos similar to All That, CYC, or Big Ass Truck, but the strength of the underground Chicago club and hip-hop scene really shines through in their music. The very first track, Sure Fire One features Brian "MCB" Quarles rapping, and his vocals are woven around the instrumental backup in a very tight yet smooth arrangement. The Digable Planets influence is most obvious here, and that is meant entirely as a compliment. The Diz starts off with a salsa intro and hook from the horn section, then DJ Ajax throws in some samples to mix things up a little bit. Tom Sanchez on guitar even gets room to solo for a second, enjoying one of his more prominent moments on the album. Whenever you have this many people trying to balance their respective sounds without overpowering one another, there is always a risk of total collapse. Somehow Liquid Soul pulls it off, as each member plays within him/herself and contributes without being overbearing. Each track is a little different from the ones before, so a cut like Show Me can give Dirty MF forum to preach the anthem of a playa, while Everybody's Got One is a horn driven instrumental that works a steady groove from start to finish. The only real shortcoming of this album is the lack of extended improvisation, especially with the brass. Surely part of this is product of the time constraint on the album, but seven of the tracks on the album were taken from a live performance at the Double Door in Chicago. The horn players play most of their lines in unison with one another, though Williams does venture out on his own for a few solos, with Donkey Punch being a good example. Again, part of this must stem from the fact that so many different elements are being incorporated into the mix, so the horns serve as background to the vocals or samples on some tracks. In this respect, the large number of band members might be both a blessing and a curse. Overall, "Here's The Deal" is an interesting album, worthy of exploration, especially for those interested in the fusion of live performance with pre-recorded sounds. This kind of music is definitely multiplying nation-wide, so Liquid Soul does a good job of representing the new Chicago sound. The rap, DJs, horns and soulful lyrics make this like a cross-section of modern urban musical culture. The signal to noise ratio may not be to everyone's liking, and the sampling could stand be a little more expressive, but this is still a good album to throw in your stereo the next time you have a crowded, freaky houseparty.
"Lemonade and Buns" - Kila When my age was in the single-digit range, I used to bring home a lot of strange records from the library. I remember seeing something by Joni Mitchell and not being sure if it was a man or woman, and wondering if records by the Mahavishnu Orchestra or Return To Forever contained the unappealing easy-listening fare that those band names initially evoked for me. Of course, in each case I was blown away, and thus began a lifelong pursuit of new musical experiences. My initial listen to this CD reminded me of those days. I've heard others in Green Linnet's stable of Irish acts, but it took time to sort things out - are the costumed figures in the booklet the band? Which of the hard-to-read cursive text is English and which is Gaelic? The first cut is an instrumental titled The Compledgegationist, described in the notes as "An ode to dirty kitchens and tea stained carpets, not to mention ceilings falling on top of your dreams." What does this have to do with anything? Dive in, though, and you'll have a wondrous experience. This band can dash off some swift reels, but so can quite a few others on this label. What sets Kila apart is their mix of styles, especially on the few vocal cuts - Tine Lasta is an entrancing mix of rapid Gaelic singing and a bass and guitar rhythm reminiscent of South Africa, and An Tomanai has a street-funk ensemble vocal that leads to a triumphant instrumental Irish chorus, with horns thrown in. In between, there are haunting, more traditional instrumentals, but with Colm O'Snodaigh's sax and flute adding a jazz flavor. Bassist Brian Hogan stands out with a command of harmonics and groove, and the band possesses the typical Irish arsenal of uilleann pipes, bodhran, fiddle and the like. Highly recommended for anyone with an interest in Irish music, which should include most of us. Although I still haven't figured out which one's the woman (Dee? Rossa?)...
"American Composers Series - Volume I: George & James" - the Residents The formula that a strange band will produce strange music does not always hold true. Take Phish, for example. Buncha weirdoes. They've produced some pretty normal sounding records. Take the Residents, on the other hand, and you have a band who doesn't necessarily prove anything. They're weird through and through, as is their music. It's not that accessible, it often sounds dated... and yet, it's oddly compelling. In recent years, East Side Digital has taken to releasing some of the band's more obscure works. And, let's face it, most of the band's work is pretty goddamn obscure. One of the Residents' gimmicks is that nobody knows who they are. For the duration of their 30 year career, they've guarded their identities closely, wearing giant eyeballs bedecked with top hats when appearing on stage. This has worked much to their advantage. In remaining anonymous, they've managed to carve out a niche for themselves on the basis of their theatrics - which are many - and their music, which sounds exactly like one would expect music produced by a bunch of eyeball wearing geeks would. If one had to sum up their musical identity in a few words, he might choose "demented electronic circus music". They don't really sound like anybody who came before them, though one can point as many fingers as he'd like to various modern composers, so it's easiest to point out who they themselves have influenced. Primus, for one. Subtract the harder-edge from Les Claypool's trio and one is left with something that might sound a bit like these guys. For a band with few overt influences - other than, perhaps, American culture in general - their two volume "American Composers Series", originally released in 1984 and 1985, is an interesting exercise in interpretation. One would expect the band's choices of cover material to provide a clue as to where they are coming from. More, it's as if the band took the composers' original scores and filtered them through their own particular meat-grinder. The first volume - "George & James", which focuses on the works of George Gershwin and James Brown - is easily the more uneven of the two. The first side, dominated by a version of Rhapsody In Blue, contains the most interesting stuff on the album. Gershwin's warm melodies retain their tonal warmth even after being run through the band's somewhat primitive synthesizers. That alone is a feat. Whether or not it should be attributed the Residents' technical proficiency or the durability of Gershwin's melodies is another question. Either way, it updates Gershwin's New York of the 1920s to a more jarring modern version, similar to the way Joe Gallant's recent reading of the Grateful Dead's "Terrapin Station" transported Robert Hunter's mythic land into an urban jungle. The second side of "George & James" - a song-for-song cover of a portion of James Brown's "Live At The Apollo" - almost begs the question "why?". But only almost. The Residents - perhaps in an effort to further conceal their identities - run their voices through numerous processors. This often adds an ominous touch to the proceedings. Likewise, their electronic work often strips songs down to their rhythmic essentials. In the case of the deep funk of 1960s James Brown, they seem to fail utterly, all but stripping the songs of character, other than the sheer mechanical perversion they provide -- a botched attempt at doing what Devo did successfully with the Rolling Stones' Satisfaction. "Stars and Hank Forever!", which concentrates on John Philip Sousa and Hank Williams, respectively - is infinitely more pleasing. The band manages to capture the driving rhythms inherent in Williams' tunes. Likewise, the darkness of the vocal production suits Williams' lyrics quite well. The music matches this. Here, the band is in their full splendor, deconstructing Williams' traditional country and rebuilding it into an architecture with a twisted geometry all its own -- a tumbledown backwoods shack meets a funhouse. The band is just as in its element with the music of John Philip Sousa. In their readings of his marches, the band uncovers some of the basis for musical genetic connection between the march and the waltz. Here, they stomp down the midway, freaks, carneys, and mutants standing at full attention along the side. It is also here that one can hear the band's influence on contemporary music most clearly. By putting the band's own dark spin onto the melodies of all of these artists, one can begin to see the common denominators that tie James Brown, George Gershwin, Hank Williams, and John Philip Sousa together -- something distinctively American. Again, there seems to be a basic genetic connection. It is this genetic connection, mixed with the Residents' own sound, that springs this music, at its best, head-on into the present and future.
"Ghost Of Electricity" - Junk Genius Too often music pawned off on the masses undermines our own thought processes. The marketers believe we are all trite, non-intellectual jokers, without the brain cells to comprehend great jazz. In my opinion, this explains the boy-band, blond, dancer girl phenomenon occurring within music today. For every Britney Spears, three million jazz discs go unnoticed. Certain jazz albums which garner attention often serve a more significant problem, not only do they pigeon-hole jazz, but they resist aiding in the further development of jazz; and instead cover My Funny Valentine again for the hundredth time. Standards are standards, and classic versions played and song by Chet Baker and Miles Davis should be listened to; but jazz itself will never change, only dissolved in the washing currents of the MTV briocolaged culture if it continues recreating the past. For jazz to develop, more music by John Zorn and specifically Junk Genius must make its mark upon the culture. Neglecting "Ghost of Electricity" would be a travesty because it contains too many layers and rhythms; too many musical/intellectual elements to file the disc into the dusty old corner in the record store. Gone Away begins the album with a classical/klezmer façade. As Kenny Wollesen snaps his snare in strange incremental beats, along with John Schott's dissonant guitar phrasings and Ben Goldberg's clarinet floats above the klezmer madness, a strange feeling of isolation begins for the listener. While sounding pleasant and calm, a dirty feeling enters the listener, almost parasitic in fact, where you don't feel the germ, but something strange unfolds in your body. Just when Gone Away feels too eerie, Hollersdale a blues, psychotic, punk rock, whatever-the-hell you want to call it, piece of music begins. Free jazz for rock and roll junkies, Hollersdale at moments contains a bluegrass beat and slide guitar, creating a strange link to Elmore James. However while the slide continues, the clarinet goes crazy, adding antiphonal notes from different keys, in a strange rhythmic way. Suddenly the song combines the Elmore James with John Zorn, a piece of postmodern insanity. Briocollage, a term used in describing the fragmentary style exhibited in postmodern literature, becomes fully exhibited in musical ways on "Ghost of Electricity." Throughout the album, each song contains elements from popular musical culture, whether classical or rock elements, and mixes them with klezmer/jazz sensibilities. Every song contains millions of separate musical fragments, all parsed together in a maniacal way. The notion of briocollage could be considered overtly academic for a music review, but on the back of the CD, Junk Genius describes "Ghost of Electricity" as "hymns, stomps, hollers, anarchic strum-alongs / border region musics." All of these elements exist within this album, yet all at once, creating a postmodern stew of musical notes. By doing so, Junk Genius does something few bands due today: creates new and exhilarating music with bits of the past; taking bits of thrown away junk and building each piece into a cohesive whole. In this way, Junk Genius becomes the ultimate DJ, the great maker of collages and the beast of postmodernity. And considering our world, why not try out something purely postmodern?
"Live Without A Crowd - Volume 1" - Dexter Grove Dexter Grove is an upstate New York duo consisting of Charley Orlando on acoustic guitar and Steve Drizos on percussion. They describe their music, somewhat appropriately, as "acid folk music." Their new album, "Live Without a Crowd," was recorded at the Aggie Theater in Fort Collins, Colorado on November 4, 1999. It features support on various tracks from friends Jim Loughlin and Al Schnier from moe. as well as Jay Barady. "Live Without a Crowd" varies greatly in quality, from material that would probably be better off not appearing in album form at all to segments that on their own make the album worth purchasing. The band's songwriting is basically a progression from the likes of Dylan and Hot Tuna, although in reality few bands, including Dexter Grove, have been able to build any farther on the whole folk and folk blues genres. The resulting songwriting is decent, though for the most part lacking much that leaves a lasting impression. This is made up for, however, by the band's surprising abilities in improvisation. Sunday, the first track on the album, falls somewhere between contemporary Dylan and Creed. Yes, that's right, Creed the modern radio rock band. It is more aggressively dark than the rest of the songs, and sort of comes off as the adopted son - or better yet, adopted cousin - of the album. Rosalie has the band doing a bit of a Hot Tuna routine, which would be bearable if it weren't for the poor and even annoying percussion accompaniment to the song. The fact that the percussion sounds especially bad in the recording does little to help it, either. Vagabond Blues is a well written song from a purely instrumental point of view, but like a number of the other songs on the album, the lyrical aspect of the vocals - not the lyrics themselves - do not work well with the music. The segue into Lonesome Traveler is immediately striking as the more impressive thing up to this point on the album. Out of nowhere the duo pulls this segue out of their asses, moving into an acoustically psychedelic zone that is utterly fulfilling. The following segue into Move Along perhaps even tops this, coming across like a sonic tide rolling towards the shore. I never imagined purely acoustic music, let alone an acoustic duo, could have such a powerfully psychedelic effect. Bolinas is perhaps the best written song on the album, featuring a nice interwoven alteration between bluegrass and sentimental songwriting. The addition of Jim Loughlin on flute and Jay Barady on mandolin is especially effective, with the two flawlessly layering flute and mandolin, a combination I now regret I haven't experienced before. The album closes with a pretty straightforward cover of Tangled Up In Blue, with Jim Loughlin, Al Schnier, and Jay Barady sitting in with the band. Although Tangled Up In Blue is one of the most covered songs ever, performers rarely if ever add something different to it so to put their own mark on it, and this trend holds true with Dexter Grove. It's such an incredible song that you can never complain about hearing live, but its inclusion on an official release from the band seems unnecessary. I personally don't see the point in this, and if anything, it would have been nice to have instead heard the band take on a less traditional Dylan cover. Despite its weakness, including varying success in their songwriting, often weak incorporation of lyrics into the music, and occasionally inappropriate percussion parts, the incredible segues featured on "Live Without A Crowd" make the album a worthwhile purchase. It would be interesting to perhaps see what would happen if the band occasionally shifted their emphasis away from song based performances and instead added more experimental, improvisational aspects to their performances. On a side note, the track listing in the liner notes of the album incorrectly lists the entire stretch with the segues as one track. I also checked out the band's website but was unable to figure out how the album can be purchased. Perhaps it is currently being offered for sale at their shows.
"Poor Man's Troubles" - Bruce
Molsky Bruce Molsky's "Poor Man's Troubles" is a retrospective of some serious Americana. In it he explores a rich national history of folk and bluegrass by honoring a choice of recordings which have inspired him the most. The CD jacket itself is as informative of this robust history as the music is itself. In it, the artist points out the origin of each song/recording as best as is available for some of these gems. Some of which have graced the porches of Appalachia for what now amounts to centuries. Songs like Rove Riley Rove, as recorded by Thaddeus "T.C." Willingham for the Library of Congress in 1941, is given fine play, as is apparent by the love and temperance shown in Bruce^Òs surprising banjo play. Without speed or impatience, he revives the feeling of passing time on a warm summer evening listening to the "family band" jug away while the crickets and cicadas sing (and let us not forget the spring peepers, just because that was an easy quote to steal!) There is a seductive quality to this CD that I can't quite put my finger on. When I first received it, I thought: "Now here is a bit of a stretch on the JamBand genre." But that is hardly true. Thinking back to the early days of jam, the roots of folk are as deeply embedded in the hybrids as that of the jazz staples that we all quote with reverence. How I can be honored to review an obvious legend as David Grisman, and not be as equally humbled in the face of such an artist as Molsky only goes point out my own impartialities that surface in the face of the unknown. There are other talented artists accompanying Bruce here, as is apparent during Peg and Awl. Here is is paired with Darol Anger stroking the baritone fiddle while Bruce himself saws away on the fiddle, singing with hillbilly desperation. However, the duo never resurface again on this collaboration. Aside from Bruce's very capable attempts, the rest of the banjo playing is performed by Paul Brown, who in his own quite way, helps to keep the mood somber and nostalgic... as all good Americana should be. That is, until the 'shine kicks in, the skirts and hats go flying out, and we find ourselves back to music^Òs primary function: To incite dance. Cabin Creek, which Bruce points out as a "souped-up" version of the classic Barlow Knife, does this quite well as it made me feel like hiking up my "britches" to better "step out". (How am I doin'^Ò here?) Anyway, there are other notable areas here. Such as Bruce's capable guitar playing during the beautiful Brothers and Sisters, giving the song a beautiful chance at new life in the chords of his guitar. There is even an a cappella cut called Bolts and Locks that has one of the most interesting stories of the bunch, one that highlights Bruce's desires to find the origin of the music he loves. Making this a joint-venture, by one artist, into amateur ethnomusicology, and an intriguing and nice find.
"Dark Skies" - Ponticello This Seattle-based trio has two things going for it - an intriguing lineup (violin/bass/drums) and an intriguing set of influences. The violin and the mild trippiness bring to mind such late-60's bands as the Flock or It's A Beautiful Day, while the writing and singing bear more resemblance to early 80's British synth pop. Not many people hold those two 60's bands in high regard today, but their violinists (Jerry Goodman, later of the Mahavishnu Orchestra, and David LaFlamme, respectively) were talented players, and Ponticello's Chris Murphy has a similar mastery of rockish string moves. Bassist/vocalist Ted Kamp and drummer Sean Shacklett are solid, if not distinctive. From the opening cut on, the group takes advantage of the studio, utilizing multitracking and filters to build layered grooves. This is good party music. It's the early 80's resemblance that's the rub, at least for this reviewer. The songs are hooky, but it would be better if there were some with more than two sections (verse/chorus or verse/bridge), and the lyrics are, to put it kindly, lightweight. Kamp saves his heaviest statement for the last cut, employing a helping of vocal reverb and a tempo and chord sequence resembling Joe Cocker's cover of With A Little Help From My Friends to remind us that the World Don't Stand Still. Unless that's your idea of profundity, though, you might prefer to avoid this CD in your more intimate listening sessions. This band has a heavy schedule of live appearances, though, and it sounds likely from hearing this disc that they'll get some momentum from playing out. Perhaps if they stick around, they'll come up with a cut worth comparing with White Bird (It's A Beautiful Day) or The Reflex (you know who did that one).
"Crowd Theory" - Jerry Granelli
and Badlands Free jazz has always walked a fine line between experimentation and cacophony. Consequently, it has been hailed by some critics as genius and dismissed by others as worthless noise. Both interpretations likely have truth to them. Since free jazz is based upon the idea of improvisation outside of traditional jazz structures, it necessarily involves an element of chaos. For unskilled musicians, it can serve as a way out from learning true jazz; yet for some, like Coltrane, who proved his mettle for years before moving into free jazz, it can serve as a tool for further exploration than would ever be possible under typical jazz restraints. Jerry Granelli and Badlands are no exception to this fine line. Their new album, "Crowd Theory," features odd, dissonant harmonies, as well as group improvisation. Adding to the chaotic feel of the album is the fast one pulled by Granelli on the album cover. A photograph of an older man gives a viewer the impression that he is seeing Granelli, when, in fact, band photographs inside the album reveal that this man is not even related to the album. What's remarkable about the album is its exceeding use of open space, as in Bucky, for example. With no bass line and no drum beat, the instruments insert sparse commentary into the dead silent background. Uncommon and possibly shocking, the approach requires a commitment to attention from the listener. A bass/drum combination typically serves to keep a song moving even when the lead instruments falter. With this gone, the responsibility falls on the listener to focus on what is being said by the musicians. On songs like Bucky, the feel is vaguely reminiscent of the quiet part of a Dead show. But, other songs are not as familiar. Scatologie finds several horns improvising odd lines over silence. The drums enter and exit at will before everyone comes together for a brief chorus which recedes back into chaos again. The real question is whether free jazz musicians are skilled players intentionally creating chaos or lousy players doing the best they can. This question has plagued critics since Ornette Coleman first released "Free Jazz," the album that revolutionized jazz forever. Yet, if a listener can derive pleasure from focusing on the uncommon interactions of the musicians, it seems that the intent of the musicians almost doesn't matter.
"More Than It Would Seem" - the Gabe Dixon Band The debut album (and I use the term album loosely, as I haven't seen any vinyl in quite a while now) by The Gabe Dixon Band, entitled "More than it would seem", is unfortunately not quite that. An accomplished collection, yes - but not anything more than it had seemed to me upon first listen. Mainly from the Southern Florida area, the band is small quartet with an uncomplicated sound that lends itself to easy listening, with similarly matched lyrics. The songs seems to mainly wander in the vast regions of love, finding love, and losing love. Not that there isn't a market for such things, it's just not that I ever subscribed to an over abundance of such things. I wouldn't classify them so much a JamBand, as I would a band that backs a Billy Joel/Bruce Hornsby-style piano prodigy with some damn strong song writing talents. All words and music were composed by Gabe except for three cuts which were co-written by Rachel Dixon. Quite an accomplishment for a right out the chute first album. Others in the music business have also had there eye on Gabe for a while now, as is notable from some of his latest pairings with Kim Wilson and the Black Crowes. The release itself was produced by Eddie Kramer who has worked with such bands as Jimi Hendrix, Kiss and Led Zeppelin. Connections aside, I expect we'll be hearing quite a bit more from Gabe on the national circuit. Like Dave Matthews, The Gabe Dixon Band has the kind sound, that however doesn't appeal to me, I expect will make waves on the radio in that not too distant future. If you'd like more on the history of the band, or maybe a peek into the lyrics, check out the web page. I'll be the first to admit that there may be more here than what interests me.
"Hotcakes" - Tall Dark
Stranger This particular band has continued to confuse me to no avail since the moment I found their release of "Hotcakes" sitting on my doorstep, waiting for a listen. I had never heard of them, so I had absolutely no idea what to even expect. That said, even after a few listens, this band is still a mystery to me. At first glance of the CD art and whatnot, I was alerted to the fact that it very well could be some sort of country band. The cover has a, well, tall dark stranger with a suave coat and a cowboy hat on. He is actually staring at me as I am writing this, with inquisitive eyes and a pout on his lips. The opening track, One Foot in the Grave, contains very strong vocals by who seems to be the main writer and singer of the band, Dee Allen. However, the talent exerted by Allen is lost beneath some very plain instrumentation and songwriting. This medium-paced song was an interesting way to start the CD, as it immediately put me in a mellow, inquisitive state of mind; yet what was to follow failed to move me much at all. The question still remained, even after two or three more tracks, who exactly are these people? I ventured over to the official website listed on the case, and was welcomed by the same picture of the same man, and when I clicked on him, I was looped back to the same page over and over again. Harrumph. It became clear to me, though, by this point that Tall Dark Stranger is in a category by themselves: an uncomfortable mix of Richard Marx, Shania Twain, Mr. Mister, and late eighties soft metal ballad rockers. Strong Enough to Bend, for example contained weak enough keyboards and percussion to remind me of a band that must have listened to a lot of Toto's Africa in preparation. One thing that is quite consistent in this release is the impeccable harmonies and vocals. Tall Dark Stranger uses a wide array of voice mixing which is wonderful and adds to many of the songs a serene and pleasant flavor. Yet, even songs like I Can't Talk to You, Love To Spare, and Promised Land, that contain said vocal brilliance, long for much more to be added to it. It is as if the songs are great beginnings, (if one is looking for very ballady and pseudo-romantic background music to accompany them to a peaceful meditation), but are missing that drive that they desperately need to become more powerful and memorable songs. Yet the question still remains: Who and what are Tall Dark Stranger? A history, lyric sheet, tourdate list, and other helpful information have not been available to me, so it is my guess that unless they open up for the Richard Marx Band reunion tour, I will not hear of them again. However, the short and mellow journey I took with "Hotcakes" certainly left me calm and collected...and that ain't so bad, y'hear?
"Lost Along The Way" - John
McGaraghan
"Art in general is about assimilating your influences. I mean the only
thing an artist can do is take in all of these styles and recreate it into
something uniquely his own." Imagine for a moment an old dusty saloon, circa 1890s. Inside the peeling painted, swinging doors; Crosby, Stills and Nash are drinking a few glasses of beer. Over at the poker table, the Grateful Dead are partaking in yet another game and over leaning against the wall, Lyle Lovett and Gram Parsons talk about their last trip across the desert. This scene is either fiction or an apotheosis of immense proportions. Although, after listening to John McGaraghan's debut album, "Lost Along the Way", one comes to the astute conclusion that there is someone out there that somehow has a crystal clear perception of this rundown saloon. Not only does he seem to have the vision; he has the wherewithal to produce it sonically. Recalling the halcyon days of "Workingman's Dead" and "Déjà Vu", this in my opinion is the best album of the year, surpassing anything I have heard recently. With the opening track, Lost Along The Way, McGaraghan shows why he deserves this lofty praise. The track mixes folk and country elements perfectly. A weepy slide fills in the space between his vocals, while an acoustic guitar along with the drums keep the time. While the instrumentation shows obvious promise, it is only half the battle. Great music has to have strong lyrical merit as well. McGaraghan passes this test, with just the first track. Sure, the topic of love and the arduous path of life have been sung about hundreds of times. When it is done wrong, the end result is an irritably maudlin, narcissistic piece of music. McGaraghan eliminates such a plausible outcome by truly feeling what he is singing. His lofty, Lovettesque tenor leaves no question that he is singing about something he has experienced. The result is an unfeigned treasure of sound. The next track, In the Lee of the Stone, is the albums psychedelic track. It has a passing similarity to The Wheel and Déjà vu. Lap Steel and acoustic guitar are the only two instruments on this track, and yet it never sounds too sparse. Lyrically, this is a masterpiece, containing Greek characters and classical tragedy. Via studio tricks, McGaraghan is again able to fill a song with lush three part harmonies. After the psychedelic sounds of In the Lee of the Stone, the album returns to the sound of its opening track with Alone Again. There is a bluegrass feel to this track, probably do to the use of mandolin joined with the acoustic guitar. Lyrically, vocally and musically, the sounds of this song strongly resemble early CSN. Once again three part harmonies and lyrics about love abound in this track. Once again, without sounding redundant, McGaraghan does a commendable job with a banal topic. After Alone Again, the album continues to wander through Americana. Each track distinctively original and well crafted. A few tracks found later that are absolutely priceless are Shred of a String and Devil and I. Shred of A String is the album's darkest track. About life, death and meeting yourself on the other side, lyrically it is shaking hands with Gram Parsons. Instrumentally, it is one guitar all alone, thus creating a stark soundscape. The change is a welcome addition, creating a downshift, like Black Peter did on Workingman's Dead. Devil and I is along the same lines as Shred, yet it is a bluegrass piece, in the tradition of Bill Monroe and Appalachia (this album's Cumberland Blues if we continue that comparison). Overall, the song has the feel of an ancient fiddle tune, and once again sparse instrumentation (banjo and guitar), add a haunting feel to the austere lyrics. While the songs are all amazing, one can forget the dumbfounding musicianship displayed. After all, McGaraghan, minus a few tracks here and there, played all of the instruments and sang all of the harmonies. Yes, he can play the mandolin, lap steel and guitar all with ability. When he doesn't play all of the instruments, his high brow friends Robin Sylvester (of Missing Man Formation), Matt Butler (of Jambay) and Ian Waight (of Oversoul) are brought in to take over the ornamentation. Listening to this album is a delight for those that enjoyed the Grateful Dead's country/rock crusade. Overall, this is an auspicious debut for Mr. McGaraghan. It may not be too long before he is invited into that saloon to cavort a bit.
"Look Around" - Radio
Mosaic It always seems like a shame to me when obviously talented musicians get together and, despite their proficiencies, fail to produce music that is anything more than just barely pleasing. Such is the case with Radio Mosaic's release of "Look Around": a rather dull bunch of short, country-ish tunes that seem to run into one another and go absolutely nowhere. A recommendation on the front of the CD alerted me that Weed, the fourth track on the album, would be worth the listen. The two-and-a-half minute song contained very little to sink one's teeth into, except maybe the nicest melody of all ten songs contained on the album. All in all, songs like Evander Coriander, Hey Now Julia, and Standing in the Shadows are pleasant, but not anything close to the path of the incredible. Again, this is sad, considering that from the getgo, it is easy to pick up on the fact that these are all very talented musicians. Upon a bit of investigation on their website (what else is one to do when they have yet to even hear of the band?), it is of some importance to note that the band prides themselves on the fact that all the members have been playing professionally for at least twenty years. Indeed, this is a band who takes themselves very seriously, and for the most part, this definitely shines through each track completely. However, professionalism and talent does not necessarily make a great album. Unfortunately, the great pieces of the puzzle simply do not fit together, and instead, the drone goes on. If you are simply looking to listen to something quick and painless with a hint of country and potential for brilliance, this is certainly the CD to pick up for yourself. Even if you find that you dislike it as well, rest assured it is only thirty-six minutes long in its entirety.
"Ruff Cuts" - Tycoon
Dog Hailing from New York and billing themselves as "an elegantly simple rock band with a deep commitment to improvised expression," Tycoon Dog offers "Ruff Cuts", an independent release that is bound to make a few ears perk up. Recorded mostly live (with a few overdubs) during rehearsals from the summer of 1999, "Ruff Cuts" offers eleven songs and a taste of Tycoon Dog's live show. Consisting of Scott Bailey (a transplanted Southern boy) on guitar/vocals, bassist/vocalist Billy Burtt, drummer/vocalist Peter Ray, and percussionist Santo, this one's been around the block a couple of times and can hunt. Although the band compares themselves to Tom Petty/Neil Young meets the Grateful Dead, I find them a little closer to Widespread Panic meets Marc Cohn -- a definite southern rock/singer/songwriter influence nonetheless. Bailey's voice isn't as whiskey-ridden as Cohn's or as gruff as Bell's, but effective and distinct -- as is his thoughtful lyricism. He is also a capable lead player, varying tones, soaring leads and flickering fills throughout. The other members of the group are likewise solid, harmony vocals are tight and effective, with Santo's pervasive rhythm and Burtt's bass fills fattening the sound. The majority of the tracks are hook-laden and consistently in a mellow groove-probably more spinning that slamming at a Tycoon Dog show. Track two, Stream, is a bit different, a darker groove faintly reminiscent of "Slide It In"-era Whitesnake of all things, punctuated by distinctive breaks. Every Love Song is a thoughtful twist on the solitary individual searching for love that hits home. Piss Cup is a ballad from a different perspective -"Ooh Piss Cup/If I can make it past you/I'll be home free" - a reflection on the importance and idiocy of mandatory urinalyses. The syncopated Strange varies tempo and speaks of that stuff on the side. The jams are mostly teased throughout, until the final standout track No Regrets, which extends into a jazzy ride stretching out over eleven minutes-some nice dual-guitar work with guest Craig Benelli over a solid groove. Personally, I may have put this one a bit earlier in the order -- seems a shame to have to wait so long to find out that these guys really are a jamband. But, it did leave me wanting more. In short, you will find something familiar and pleasing in Tycoon Dog -- something that may resemble your emotions and moods-and you may catch yourself singing it in the hallway. This isn't a high-energy disc that you'll want to drive fast to, but not every one should be. You can order "Ruff Cuts" and the bands' other discs, "Homegrown"-a living-room recording featuring tupperware/MIDI drums-and "Seven Stories High", a collection of Bailey's acoustic tunes, from their website.
self-titled - Tom Chaffee and
the Saturnalia After careful listening to Tom Chaffee's self-titled release, I have come to the grand conclusion that I would definitely party with him and his band, over and over again until they got unbelievably sick of me and asked me gently to go home. I think it is a good thing that they seem to only be playing gigs out on the west coast (at least seemingly so for now) as I would probably stop much of what I am supposed to do and see them often, forgetting that a world around me exists with responsibilities and such that need to be taken care of at some point. That said, any listener of this release gets the distinct pleasure of being greeted by a big human hotdog, who is strategically placing ketchup and mustard over itself on the cover of the CD. Intense. It was indeed surprising to then place the CD in the player and be smothered in instrumental bliss, led by a very humorous and talented Tom Chaffee. A look at the Tom Chaffee website would not only find you a closer look at the hotdog, but a small insight into Chaffee's life: his biography is truly interesting to read. Chaffee, through his music and style, as well as his writing on the website, is seemingly quite the remarkable and talented man. Songs such as Lighthouse and The Waltz flow with an ease that is gorgeous and enlightening, while the opening track, La Ballona gently takes your musical soul on a joyride you do not want to end. PdR Soul's array of melodies are a work of genius. The guitar, which Chaffee gladly masters, is the main focus on the entire album, and he does this beautifully, and with ease. The melodies contained on this album are incredibly flowing, for the most part. The guitar lines contain brilliant combinations fierce simplicity; no song on this album rages too hard, yet they all are strangely powerful. These guitar lines are unique, and the rest of the instrumentation on the album provides quite the intense backdrop. All in all, this is quite the musical find. "Groove on, and follow your dreams," Chaffee writes in the booklet that comes with the CD. It is easy to do so with such a release: what I have come to find as a hidden gem. And you just gotta love the hotdog...
"Still Live" - Might As Well The first time I saw Might As Well was pretty much by accident. I was in Muncie, IN, home of the mighty Ball State Cardinals, visiting friends of the family when my good friend Echoe Keith suggested we check out a little place downtown called the Heorot. She made this suggestion for two reasons: 1) they have Guinness on tap (which isn't exactly commonplace in Muncie), and 2) they usually have a pretty good band there. On the night that we went, both premises proved valid: the Guinness was the right temperature, and a band called Might As Well put on a very entertaining show. Might As Well's latest release "Still Live" does a solid job of bringing across the vibe that encompasses their live show. The disc, comprised of 11 tracks recorded at 1999's Grass Roots Music Festival in Angola, IN, showcases the extremes of MAW's songs - from contemplative and moody to exasperated and tense to smiling and dancing. The two things that stand out on first listen are the viola work done by Felix Moxter and the lyricist/songwriting skills of rhythm guitarist/vocalist Jim Martin. The disc's first track, Catechism, gets listeners started in a neutral fashion and allows one to wade into the sound that is MAW. Catechism also serves as a primer of sorts for the playing of Moxter on viola, as he's able to create a hazy kind of feeling in the rhythm of the song. Knotweed continues the disc with a jazzy intro and interesting structure before giving way to M.T.F. Blues>WYSIWYG (What You See is What You Get), a nice 15-minute segued jam that represents an early peak for the album. Drummer Rich Lee does an admirable job with M.T.F's tempo changes, and Moxter manipulates the viola into more of a down-home sound that compliments Greg Lass' licks on lead guitar. Lass has an interesting blues-based style that at times harkens comparisons to Santana with less of a latino influence. M.T.F. slows and becomes WYSIWYG, a tune that I particularly enjoyed that night at the Heorot. WYSIWYG gives glimpses of some of MAW strengths in synchronized playing as Moxter, Lass and bassist Murrary Moorthy keep pace. Pirates and Polyesther Lightning continue the fun-and-dance feel of the first half of the disc, with vocalist Martin almost having a Widespread quality to his voice. This is also a good point to expand on Martin's talents as a lyricist. Looking over the first six tracks, fans are treated to a wide variation in style and content. Martin can write the easy, fun song but seems more comfortable when tackling heavier subjects, a talent not many current "jamband" lyricists can boast. Twirl represents a turning point in the mood of the disc, and stands out as a very well-written song with a traditional/folk feel. Erosion follows and maintains the serious feel (with a nice little jam in the middle), as does E Average Mathews, which features a gradual build but keeps true to the direction set by Twirl. Pathway turns it up a notch and establishes a groove before the album closes with the touching Furthur, a respectful ode to Jerry Garcia that does a slow burn into one of the disc's best jams before wrapping it up in the original mellow vein. "Still Live" does, in my opinion, what any live cd does best - it makes you itch to see the genuine article. At times while listening I found myself wishing that Lass and Moxter had went a little deeper into some of their duels, but it was nothing that couldn't be corrected by a pint of Guinness and a trip to the Heorot to see Might As Well play again. And if you happen to see my friend Echoe there in the crowd, give her a hug, buy her a Framboise, and thank her for introducing you (through me) to Might As Well.
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