Kyle Andrews spins a sound that’s decidedly left of center, a sonic surge marked by giddy melodies, techno-tinged rhythms and an effusive enthusiasm that freely tugs at the parameters. Recorded, produced and played almost entirely under his own aegis, Real Blasty, Andrews’ sophomore set, delivers on all its name implies, an all-out, go-for-broke, no-holds-barred slab of indie invention. Opening track “Sushi” ups the ante from the get-go, an ebullient shout-out that provides perfect incentive for a dalliance on the dance floor. That breathless, kinetic pace is sustained throughout, but it’s especially pervasive on songs like “Polar Bear,” “Tennessee Torture Dream” and “Put Your Hands Up,” the latter a standout by virtue of its elated call to arms. There are occasional moments of reflection as well – the appropriately dubbed “Take it to Heart” being the most notable – but overall, it’s Andrews’ insistent approach that leaves the most emphatic impression, a dizzying collision of rock, racket and weirdness. Next time around Andrews may want to consider reigning himself in, at least to allow his listeners to catch a collective breath. Suffice it to say, Real Blasty is positively explosive.
Leave it to an astute archival label like Angel Air to take it upon itself to revive a band like the Korgis, a deserving combo that was scarcely appreciated even in their native Great Britain. An offshoot of the equally obscure Stackridge, the trio released four albums in the late ‘70s and actually attained something of a lingering hit, a haunting little gem called “Everybody’s Got to Learn Sometime.” Etched in the great British pop tradition – one that relied on such esteemed forebears as the Kinks, the Hollies and naturally, the Beatles – the band carved its template from lush, effusive melodies, subtly shaded arrangements and the cooing vocals of chief protagonists Andy Davis and James Warren, the Stackridge expatriates who shaped the band’s sound. Something About the Korgis is their fifth offering from Angel Air and their second Korgis compilation, but given the songs’ strong first impression it’s clear the group warrant the additional exposure. Two takes on “Everybody’s Got to Learn Sometime” and a more recent release – the aptly dubbed “Something About the Beatles” – find a place among nineteen selections representing the best of the Korgis catalogue. A bonus DVD featuring an unplugged performance by the reunited trio, archival videos and an illuminating documentary complete the package, making this a must-have for that especially discerning collector who considers him or herself a Korgis completist. Angel Air
Dig it: an all-instrumental groove-out with a theme about ‘Nam, maaaan. And believe me when I say that it being all-instrumental is this disc’s saving grace when it comes to the source of inspiration. After all, this could have turned into a heavy-handed, politically bent bad trip, and well, ‘Nam’s been done to death in both all seriousness and taking knocks in comedic circles. So sit back and dig the grooves of “Saigon ‘67,” which features some groovy percussion, and a cool, toked-out vibe. “Huey” filrts with wah-wah guitars and ’70s Zappa-esque frippery and goes down well. “Jungle Warfare” is laden with heartbeats and a spooky dank ambiance that makes you feel as if you are there. Then there’s the crunchy “Poisoned Sky” which puts R.E.M.’s “Orange Crush” into its pithy place. By the time you make it to “The Fall of Saigon,” you’ll be ripped and spent. Why can’t more artists who feel the need to crank out conceptual chunder follow the Reel Banditos’ lead and just keep their pens quiet and their instruments cranked? Ya got me, but this is one of those left field oddities worth a good listen. (self-released)
There’s something that’s different from most power pop and Warped Tour fare when it comes to Canadian rock band Social Code. On the band’s debut US EP, He Said, She Said, Social Code sets itself apart from the pack a bit with a lot of guitar-driven energy and with Travis Nesbitt’s raspy vocal (think Hawthorne Heights and Fall Out Boy having a child). The title track is the kind of stuff that will give record labels and radio programmers a collective wet dream. But Social Code is just paying the bills with that and with the catchy but slightly grating “Beautiful.” That’s because the best tracks here are “Perfect Grave” and “The Shortest Line.” The former has a dark, melody-driven approach ala the Goo Goo Dolls, and could launch this band into superstardom if the right people hear it. Love it or hate it, this genre is still here to stay for a while, and Social Code is worth keeping your eyes and ears on. (LABEL: Fifth Season Music)
In January of 2007, a very distinguished set of musicians put on a concert celebrating the life and work of Jim Capaldi, a founding member of Traffic who died in January of 2005 of stomach cancer at the age of 60. The DVD capturing the event is pleasant enough and features performances and contributions from musicians who worked with and were inspired by Capaldi’s spirit, songwriting and musicianship. The list includes Steve Winwood, Capaldi’s Traffic bandmate, who delivers a solid version of the Traffic classic “Dear Mr. Fantasy,” and other luminaries such as Joe Walsh, Paul Weller, the artist formerly known as Cat Stevens (Yusuf Islam) and Deep Purple alum and keyboard genius Jon Lord. The house band supporting these stars during the show included Bad Company alum Simon Kirke on the drums and multi-instrumentalist and band leader Mark Rivera (Foreigner, Ringo Starr, Billy Joel). The artists offer competent versions of Traffic and Capaldi solo material while adding a wrinkle or two of their own. Islam sneaks in a refrain of “Wild World” during “Man With No Country” and Walsh, ex-Rolling Stone Bill Wyman and Jon Lord deliver a bluesy, soulful rendition of “Living on the Outside.” Solid, mellow and entertaining without a ton of bells and whistles, the concert delivers a fine tribute to a respected artist and his work from those who loved him the most. (Eagle Vision)
You would think that the final word in terms of singer/songwriter types was uttered in the ‘60s and ‘70s, given that that’s the era that birthed such visionaries like Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, James Taylor, Jackson Browne and their like-minded brethren. Then along comes an artist like Thea Gilmore, who proves herself more than able to reach that bar. In the past ten years or so, she’s notched up repeated successes on her ascent to the upper ranks of contemporary British singer/songwriters, and if Liejacker doesn’t quite rank as the absolute masterpiece of, say, Blue or Blood on the Tracks , it does impress with its array of alluring, caressing melodies and enough hooks to fill a fashion warehouse. Most artists would be content to be able to write songs that would make Gilmore’s “good” stack – and there are plenty of those here - but few could match such instantly indelible offerings as “Come Up With Me” or “Rosie,” two of the more infectious efforts this album has to offer. The former boasts the kind a catchy chorus that will likely never to wear thin even after repeated listens, while the latter comes across as a gentle ramble, its folk-like caress reaffirming Gilmore’s natural penchant for merging music and meditation. Gilmore’s got the goods, and with Liejacker she ups her ante considerably. (Rykodisc)
Dave Medsker wrote the following about the Smithereens’ initial Fab Four cover record (2007’s Meet The Smithereens): “Pat Dinizio has always worn his love for the Beatles on his sleeve (the band did a fab cover of Ringo’s “It Don’t Come Easy” back in 1991), but no one is going to mistake his singing for that of Paul McCartney or John Lennon, and that is the biggest problem with Meet the Smithereens.” Well, fast forward to 2008 and the newest Smithereens’ Fab Four cover record, B-Sides the Beatles, and nothing has changed, really. The boys do a great job of re-creating the vibe and sound of the early Beatles catalog, but Dinizio’s voice just doesn’t do the songs justice (Dennis Diken sings lead on “Slow Down”). I love Dinizio’s vocals in general, but not for these songs; they just don’t fit. The band gives a little more crunch to songs like “You Can’t Do That” and “Some Other Guy” but the only thing this album does is make you want to listen to the originals, not these covers. The Smithereens couldn’t resist the modest commercial success and critical buzz that the 2007 record achieved and went to the well one more time (off the back of a Christmas record with only three seasonal originals). Here is an idea: how about an original Smithereens record? They haven’t produced a new disc of Smithereens’ material since 1999’s overwhelmingly mediocre God Save the Smithereens. This is the band that produced great records like Green Thoughts and Especially for You. There has to be more in them than just becoming a Beatles tribute act. Competent, yes the album is competent and the art is cool and the liner notes informative, but exciting, or thrilling…not so much. (Koch)
Here it is, kids: the long-awaited, oft-delayed title track to Guns ‘n Roses’ Chinese Democracy, which finally has a release date of November 23. Of this year. No, seriously.
So how it it? Um, well, it’s…interesting.
Interesting. That’s the biggest cop-out adjective in a music writer’s arsenal. And yet, that’s as positive a word as I can come up with upon first listen. I feel the same way about this as I did when I first heard “You Could Be Mine,” the first single released from the Use Your Illusion albums. It reminds me of long-buried ’90s bands like Monster Magnet, and the guitar solo…doesn’t Tom Morello have patent pending on that stuff?
There was once a time where I was dying to hear what mad scientist Axl had been cooking up in his lab. Those days came and went roughly ten years ago. Now it’s on the level of cautiously optimistic. You know there’s a “November Rain” sitting in there somewhere. There has to be…right?
Man, do we love this series. Eagle gets away from their classic rock leanings and brings in four of the Fab Five – Andy Taylor, having left the band once again, does not participate – to dissect Duran Duran’s 1982 worldwide breakthrough album Rio, and while it doesn’t contain any of the bizarro production stories that were revealed in the episode dedicated to Def Leppard’s Hysteria, it is still a very entertaining and informative analysis of one of the biggest albums of the ‘80s. Nick Rhodes describes the origins of the opening sound on the album’s title track, and talks about how he remodeled “The Chauffeur” into an electronic track from its origins as an acoustic number. They even recruited David Kershenbaum to talk about remixing several Rio tracks to make them more “American” (smart move, that). John Taylor pulls out his bass and plays a few riffs, and reveals that he had to switch from his fingers to a pick and back on “Hold Back the Rain.” Russell Mulcahy is on hand to talk about the videos he shot in Sri Lanka (three videos in three days, yikes), and Bob Geldof is on hand to rave about the record, too. It’s a fine addition to an excellent series. May we suggest ABC’s The Lexicon of Love as a future candidate? (Eagle Vision)
It must have looked great on paper, and few musicians are more deserving of a tribute than Les Paul, but as misbegotten encomiums go, Les Paul & Friends: A Tribute to a Legend ranks somewhere near or below George Martin’s disastrous In My Life — and that album featured performances from Robin Williams and Jim Carrey, so you know you’re on dangerous ground here. Tribute is a hack job, from the shoddy artwork (which lists the tracks in the wrong order) to the songs themselves, a handful of which have been poached from the last Les Paul tribute album, 2005’s American Made World Played. What you end up with is a foul-smelling hash that has its high points (notably “The Good Luck You’re Having,” featuring guitar work from Paul, Hiram Bullock, and Joe Bonamassa), but also answers the question of what it would sound like if Johnny Rzeznik of the Goo Goo Dolls covered U2 (answer: he’d make “All I Want Is You” sound vaguely like “Black Balloon”) and leaves room for Jeff Golub to add an inexplicable cover of Ace’s “How Long.” What does this have to do with Les Paul? In most cases, not much – in fact, Paul doesn’t even appear on some tracks. It has the look and feel of a shady licensing deal gone wrong, but even if you choose to believe the folks who put it together had the best intentions, there’s no reason to purchase this album. Pick up 2005’s The Best of the Capitol Masters: 90th Birthday Edition instead, and leave this to the truck stops and swap meets it deserves. (Immergent 2008)
Add all the right elements and you’ve got an effective formula…right? Especially when the combination includes guitarist Steve Cropper, singer/keyboard player Felix Cavaliere and a set list that mines the old Stax sound. Certainly you won’t find more impressive résumés – Cropper helped helm Booker T and the MGs, backed up Otis Redding and the Blues Brothers and wrote such soul standards as “Dock of the Bay” and “In the Midnight Hour.” Cavaliere, as the voice of the Rascals – Young and otherwise – literally defined the concept of blue-eyed R&B. Yet for all its promise, Nudge It Up a Notch doesn’t quite live up to its title. Boasting all originals, including a handful of instrumentals, it offers an air of authenticity, but without the credence that implies conviction. Cropper remains a singular guitarist and Cavaliere clearly possesses one of the most emotive voices of all time, but these new songs pack neither the fire nor the magic of the material they’re emulating. Back in the day, “One of Those Days” and “If It Wasn’t For Loving You” might have fit the formula, but now they represent a recycled sound that long ago was played to perfection.
Ultimately it’s not surprising that Nudge It Up a Notch doesn’t fare better. After all, these songs recall templates that have been indelibly etched, making any attempt to raise that bar a daunting challenge at best. But where Solomon Burke, Mavis Staples and Al Green recently rekindled old glories with albums that moved them forward, Cropper and Cavaliere seem content to glance backwards and retrace well-trod terrain. Although an admirable attempt, it lacks a necessary quotient when it comes to daring and distinction.
What’s worse than bad Christmas music? How about bad Christmas music as played by people pretending to be dead rock stars? Awesome! Just in time for the Christmas shopping holidays that begin immediately sometime right before or after Halloween, it’s Winter Dance Party, comprised of Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, and Big Bopper impersonators. If you’re guessing that somewhere in this disc you’ll hear Christmas chestnuts played in the style of “Peggy Sue,” “La Bamba,” and ahhh…..hmm…whatever else it was Big Bopper did that wasn’t “Chantilly Lace,” then you’ll be absolutely wowed by this collection. So yeah, it’s another quick Christmas cash-in with the likes of “Let It Snow,” “Feliz Navidad,” “We Three Kings,” “Silent Night,” and the rest done up dead guy-style. But hey, at least you know these impersonators are the only group officially sanctioned by the surviving families of the deceased to rock such a crazy thing. Completely unnecessary in every way imaginable. (Day Old Records)
I am going to say something Army Navy will love, followed by something that will make them want to kill me. Army Navy’s self-titled album is a dandy collection of jangly pop rock that will have fans of Robyn Hitchcock and Teenage Fanclub jumping for joy. Singer Justin Kennedy has a delicate but steady voice, and his melodies are instantly hummable. Now for the part that will make their blood boil: they’re a power pop band, which is usually the kiss of death for a band’s commercial prospects. Still, who knows: Jack’s Mannequin’s first album was a power pop record, and they’re doing just fine, thank you. That said, Jack’s Mannequin never wrote anything as dreamy and harmony-laden as “Dark as Days” or “Slight of Hand,” the latter of which just scored a spot on the soundtrack for “Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist.” Will Kennedy’s connection to Ben Gibbard (they were both in the band Pinwheel) carry Army Navy over the power pop barrier? God, we hope so. We understand the bias against power pop – most of the bands that play it admittedly suck – but Army Navy deserves better than that. Here’s hoping they get it. (The Fever Zone 2008)
The Little Ones are one of those indie pop bands that are able to create music that transcends the makeup of each member. And even then, that describes so many bands that you have to be very special to stand out. Well, what the Little Ones do on their debut, Morning Tide (on Alexandra Patsavas’ Chop Shop label), is create catchy, witty and well-arranged music that is equal parts modern cool (think the Shins) and retro bounce (think a more guitar-driven Erasure). It’s the kind of album that sticks in your head and makes you pay attention without even realizing you’re paying attention, deeming the Little Ones the kind of act that should have staying power in a messed up music industry. But that’s not to say Morning Tide is anything more than very good. Let’s face it, the high tenor, almost-falsetto vocal thing of Ed Reyes and others is getting old (the Shins’ James Mercer and Radiohead’s Thom Yorke receive a pass here). That, and some of these tracks are riveting (the title track, “Rise and Shine” or “Like a Spoke on a Wheel”) while others are just bland and derivative (“All Your Modern Boxes” or “Gregory’s Chant”). See what the fuss is about, and temper your expectations just a bit. But the Little Ones will likely be around for a while. (Chop Shop)
Culver City, California’s Alex Kimmell is a one-man band, and his band is called Two Dog Garage. So as not to confuse matters, let’s call the project TDG, and let’s call TDG’s debut, Pinboy, a rousing success. There are so many flavors of music at work here, as TDG uses paints from the palettes of classic rock, modern rock, and just about everything in between. And he does it with what seems like relative ease. The songs are not just catchy and well recorded; they have the potential to stand up to just about any commercial recording. TDG is unsigned, but that just means you may have to look in the nooks and crannies of the online music world, but you won’t regret anything once you get there. The title track might evoke thoughts of Toad the Wet Sprocket, and “You’ll Go Blind” may remind one of ‘80’s MTV icons the Buggles (yes, the music is that varied). And then there is the utter beauty of “Everything Happens to Me” and “This Beautiful Life.” Oh, and the instrumental “Anesthesia” sounds like what is probably what your body hears when it’s under, well, you know. So go find Mr. Kimmell, errrr, TDG. Tell him I sent you. (self-released)
