What do you get when you cross a classically trained but independently minded pianist with two folk/rock instrumentalists? You get a Joni Mitchell/Aimee Mann/Jenny Lewis hybrid, which is probably accurate when describing the music of New York City based trio Elizabeth & the Catapult. This jazzy alt-pop trio, fronted by singer Elizabeth Ziman, released an EP on their own in 2006 and then created enough of a buzz through touring that they were courted by major labels. But they ultimately signed with indie Verve Forecast, and the guess here is so that the group could maintain creative control, which is a good thing for all of us. Their full length debut, Taller Children, has two of the group’s best tracks from the EP, the bouncy and snarky “Momma’s Boy” and the dreamy, Jill Cunniff-ish “Right Next to You.” But there’s much more, with the rest of the LP continuing to jump between bouncy and dreamy, but Ziman and her cohorts deliver it all with precision and pizazz. Other standouts are the uber catchy title track, melancholy “Rainiest Day of Summer” and quirky “Everybody Knows.” (Verve Forecast 2009)

Elizabeth & the Catapult MySpace Page

It may have seemed like just another example of dilettantism from a major star during the late ‘80s – a time when Amnesty International tours were all the rage and the Top 40 was stuffed with globetrotting music from Sting, Paul Simon, and Peter Gabriel – but 21 years later, David Byrne’s Luaka Bop is not only still around, it’s an inspirational example for anyone hoping to establish a boutique label. Known primarily as an outlet for releases from Byrne-approved “world music” artists like Zap Mama, Luaka Bop has actually been a more eclectic imprint than most people have given it credit for, something highlighted in the label’s new anniversary compilation, Twenty First Century Twenty First Year. You get the expected stuff – like Byrne’s tastes, the set skews toward South American and Afro-Caribbean grooves, offering booty-shaking cuts from Moreno +2, and Los Amigos Invisibles and some fine Shuggie Otis – but Twenty First is also careful to remind you that the label has provided a home for artists as diverse as Geggy Tah and Jim White. It all adds up to a solid hour of eclectic music that, like the label itself, is more interested in showing you a good time than proving how hip it is. And it succeeds, too – with the exception of Geggy Tah’s “Whoever You Are,” which should be locked in a lead-lined vault and fired into space, these tracks will make a fine addition to your next barbecue playlist, and it’s a fine introduction to the label in the bargain. (Luaka Bop 2009)

Luaka Bop MySpace page

Tradition and technology collide in the opening moments of James Yuill’s Turning Down Water for Air, a 12-song bedroom-pop set that’s been earning raves in Yuill’s native England since last fall. Leadoff track “You Always Do” begins with the familiar sound of an acoustic guitar – which is then pushed and pulled by what sounds like a defective tape head, thus setting the tone for the album’s overall aesthetic, which mashes up old-school, analog-driven new wave pop with mopey British folksinger confessionals. It’s an uneven mix, but when it works – as on “No Pins Allowed,” which kicks off with a NIN-esque burst of industrial noise before giving way to a gently surging melody over a dance beat that vaguely suggests something New Order might have done, or “No Surprise,” which rides a circular synth pattern and kalimba-sounding percussion around the edges of a classically monochromatic new wave melody – the album is positively entrancing. Next time out, Yuill could stand to write a few more standout tracks, but for a debut effort, Water ain’t bad – this is a songwriter who’s on to something. If you’ve ever wondered what Nick Drake might have sounded like with a skinny tie, be sure to check this out. (Nettwerk 2009)

James Yuill MySpace page

Eilen Jewell doesn’t take anything for granted in her multi-faceted approach. As comfortable emitting a bluesy wail as she is in delivering a down-home croon, she eschews the folk singer format to take a more old-fashioned approach, one that’s as close to a rootsy template as any other modern singer has ventured nowadays. On this, her fourth album and second for Signature Sounds, Jewell asserts her seductive prowess and spans references ranging from Billie Holiday (“Everywhere I Go,” “Final Hour”) to Patsy Cline (“The Darkest Day,” “Codeine Arms”). In between, she varies her delivery from sassy to seductive, maintaining an easy lilt that’s melancholy and mournful without sinking to the depths of depression. An unexpected cover of “Shakin’ All Over” notwithstanding, Sea of Tears does reflect its title accurately, but given her comfort with the material, this particular sea allows her remarkably smooth sailing. (Signature Sounds)

Eilen Jewell MySpace page

Fiddles and banjos in Brooklyn? Well, yes, apparently – as that’s the M Shanghai String Band’s home turf, no matter how much they sound like they hail from some backwoods holler south of the Mason-Dixon line. The freewheeling collective, which takes its name from the Chinese restaurant where they first performed together, returns here with its third disc of rootsy tunes, dominated – as you might imagine – by the various stringed things its 11 members play. The titles are often cooler than the songs themselves (particularly “Angel Full of Bourbon,” which, let’s face it, is a title most songs could never live up to), but even if the band’s material isn’t outstanding, it’s good enough to do set a suitably back-porch mood – and Mapmaker’s best moments, like the sawdust-covered stomp “Gallows Bird,” sound like they were distilled in a greasy mason jar just a couple shelves down from Americana standard-bearers like Ollabelle and the Felice Brothers. If it isn’t quite as high-proofed a vintage as either of those other bands, it still packs enough of a punch that it should be able to take the edge off for discerning fans of the genre – and prove a sufficiently intriguing invitation to one of the M Shanghai String Band’s tremendously entertaining live shows. (Red Parlor 2009)

M Shanghai String Band MySpace page

Sparked by critical kudos and two sensuous sets of songs, Oklahoma singer/songwriter Samantha Crain has already carved out an impressive and well-deserved reputation, despite the fact she’s a mere 22 years of age. This beguiling follow-up, dreamily titled Songs in the Night, follows only a few months after her critically lauded debut, the Confiscation EP, but it represents a forward progress that’s all the more remarkable for the relatively rapid speed of its arrival. Unlike others her age, Crain leans away from a more insurgent stance, maintaining instead a decidedly lowered gaze. Yet, while she opts for unembellished arrangements, the delivery doesn’t belie her enthusiasm; the ebullient surge of songs like “Rising Sun,” “Long Division,” “Songs in the Night” and “Bullfight (Change your Mind)” makes her back country balladry all the more endearing. Don’t mistake Crain for some freewheeling folkie, however. There’s a sense of urgency infused in “Devils in Boston,” while the forlorn sprawl of “The Dam Song” and the skewered theatrics that drive “Bananafish Revolution” show her savvy. Songs in the Night may suggest the sound of nocturnal rumination, but in truth, it’s as bright and promising as daybreak over the horizon.

Samantha Crain MySpace page

Following A Different Story, last year’s self-released comeback after an extended absence, The Show Is on the Road represents Paleface’s continued progress on the road to recovery. Once one of the prime movers in New York’s fabled Anti-folk scene, his journey hasn’t been easy; a decade ago, he collapsed and nearly died after being stricken by an onslaught of alcohol abuse, pneumonia and hepatitis. Those problems now well behind him, he opts for a rambling, ramshackle approach that’s both unhinged and unembellished, eschewing more sophisticated arrangements for a low-key, down home sound. The title track starts things off on a note of upbeat optimism, and as the album saunters on, songs such as “Try to Hold Your Own,” “Holy Holy” and “Pondering the Night Sky” maintain that jaunty lilt established early on. Yet, despite the nonchalant atmosphere and the DIY aesthetic, nods to the past are inevitable. “New York, New York” bids a wistful farewell to Manhattan, where he once resided before heading to a new life in North Carolina, while “Raise the Glass” offers salutations to past excess. No matter though; with the show on the road, Paleface procures a rollicking return.

Paleface website“

Jenny Gillespie’s hushed, vaguely introspective musings find her treading similar territory to Feist, Sarah MacLachlan and even early Joni Mitchell on occasion, but there’s a hazy glow that adds an unexpected lilt to her proceedings. Her third effort overall following her eponymous 2001 debut and the six song Love and Ammunition four years later, Light Year evokes Day-Glo imagery and idyllic settings, pondered ever so sweetly through poetry and prose. She graces these fragile soundscapes with subtlety and flair, utilizing primarily piano and acoustic guitar, which are then tastefully embellished by bells, accordion, cello, fiddle, mandolin and pedal steel. Yet despite the richness of the arrangements, the songs never feel over-indulgent, radiating instead a shimmer, sparkle and gentle sway that’s ever so beautiful and beguiling. In fact, the entire set is so unerringly mesmerizing, it’s a challenge to distinguish a single standout, although “Vanishing Point,” “Littleblood,” and “Hummingbirds” certainly vie for that distinction. However, with the songs maintaining such low wattage, it may also be necessary to submit to more than a cursory listening – in fact, several may be required before true seduction sets in. Yet be assured that once its given those repeated encounters, Light Year will shine that much stronger.

Jenny Gillespie My Space page

Imagine what the early 21st century bedroom recordings of a depressed Brazilian teenager with a penchant for quietly direct songs about his frayed state of mind, a delicate but confident touch on acoustic guitar, a talent for artful overdubbing and an affinity for the occasionally off-beat multi-part musical, and that’s Yonlu, a/k/a Vinicius Gageiro Marques, in a nutshell. Yonlu created the 14 songs herein all alone, in his studio, sharing them only with his online friends and fans until his suicide in 2006 at the age of sixteen. Though his tragic story would naturally draw in listeners, the music itself transcends his short lifespan – his voice was steady and tuneful, whether in English or his native Portuguese, spinning delicate and pristine performances in the mold of Elliott Smith and Nick Drake, but always informed by his Brazilian heritage. Songs like “Humiliation” and “Suicide” are maddening in their blatant foreshadowing, but “Katie Don’t Be Depressed” beats ‘em all. The pointed line he sang to the subject is exactly what the sympathetic listener will be feeling upon hearing this collection lonely aural postcards – “seriously now, what the fuck?” But for all the words he wrote, Yonlu’s most poignant statement remains “Waterfall.” A wordless melody sung over acoustic guitar, the tune soars with heartbreaking beauty like a lost Milton Nascimento demo, answering in one way the question “why is there suffering in the world?” (Luaka Bop 2009)

Yonlu MySpace

March 31, 2009 marked the release of British songstress PJ Harvey’s second collaboration with producer John Parish, A Woman, A Man Walked By. Recorded in Bristol and Dorset, England, the record delves deep into Harvey’s psyche, 12 years after she and Parish’ first collaboration, Dance Hall At Louise Point. The overall sound resembles Harvey’s early material more than anything else. In fact, Billboard.com wrote,

“A Woman, A Man Walked By is more like the Harvey of old than 2007’s ‘White Chalk.’ She sighs and croons and rasps her way through Parish’s twisted folk landscape, jabbing at an eternally disappointing lover with renewed ferocity and fresh heartbreak. Such a musical mind-meld, so expressive of both artists’ perspective, is rare.”

The Boston Globe reviewed A Woman saying, “This one falls squarely in line with Harvey’s eclectic discography, marking a return to gutter rock after the piano atmospherics of 2007’s ‘White Chalk.’”

It has been a while since Harvey & Parish put their creative minds to work on the same project, but the pairing seems to have brought out the best in both artists. The record celebrates Harvey’s unique vocals while still maintaining Parish’s propensity for subtlety. The Boston Globe wrote,

“On ‘A Woman, A Man Walked By,’ they create a world both beautiful and depraved, an unhinged record heavy on heartache and bristling with aggression. And that’s just the opening song, ‘Black Hearted Love,’ where Harvey’s languid voice floats above the crash and clang of Parish’s electric-guitar squall…Harvey matches him in a wild array of different vocal shades, with her shrill yelps summoning the spirit of performance artist Karen Finley on the title track. And a spoken-word recitation on “Cracks in the Canvas” closes the album on an elegiac note with Harvey intoning: “Cracks in the canvas look like roads that never end.”

The raw intensity and brash lyrics of A Woman, A Man Walked By prove PJ Harvey’s, “still not a girl to take home to Mama” (RollingStone.com) but a trip through her subconscious is anything but ordinary.

Standouts on A Woman include the opening track “Black Hearted Love” which, “finds Harvey delivering the brooding, disturbing vocal beauty she’s know for.” (Spin.com) “Passionless, Pointless” also shines. DrownedInSound said the track “finds as poignant a pay off as [Harvey’s] ever written: ‘you slept facing the wall, and you wanted less than I wanted.’”

Not every track on A Woman was well received, however. PasteMagazine.com criticized Harvey’s vocal on “The Chair,” saying, “she sounds like she’s falling down a well.” And they don’t stop there. The indie-mag goes on to write, ”on A Woman as a whole, she sounds as though she’s far less inspired than she was on her previous disc, White Chalk, a work of bone-chilling intimacy. This new one is both harder to love and harder to fathom.”

Although many seem to have gotten lost in Harvey and Parish’s interestingly haunting hooks and odd lyrics, I find it hard to concentrate on anything while she literally barks, and snarls her way through each song. The artistic integrity is there, but it just doesn’t translate as well as one would hope. Fans of classic Harvey should definitely check out the new release but newcomers may find themselves wanting more with this record.

You can preview tunes from the record on Harvey’s MySpace, or go straight to iTunes and check out the record for yourself.

He may share the same surname, but Doug Paisley holds little in common with that more famous Paisley who bears the name Brad. Hailing from Toronto Canada, Doug takes an everyman approach to his craft via a soft strum and an affable folk finesse, a far cry from the commercial country branding that Brad’s parlayed into superstardom. But while his songs may seem rather unassuming, they resonate with resilient melodies and a heartfelt delivery that sounds simultaneously both weathered and refreshing. The lilt and sway of a steel guitar illuminates “We Weather,” while somber keyboards enhance the graceful balladry of “Take Me with You” and “What About Us.” Mostly though, this material finds a comfortable middle ground that sounds like the essence of ‘70s soft rock, a sound that would make James Taylor or Jackson Browne beam with approval. It’s also a refreshing shift in stance from the overly mannered, self-conscious approach that’s plagued many singer/songwriter types in recent years. That makes Paisley’s premiere effort one of the best debut discs in recent memory. (No Quarter)

Doug Paisley MySpace page

Thankfully, Justin Vernon’s international reputation wasn’t sullied by his deliberate mangling of the French words for “good winter” as his choice for his nom de plume Bon Iver. Indeed, with the release of his much-touted debut For Jessica, Forever Ago, his Gothic backwoods motif somehow struck a chord with Americana enthusiasts both here and abroad, winning unusually rave reviews for a rookie artist from so far a field in the heartland. This four-song set, a prequel of sorts, maintains the wistful gaze and low-lit aura that dominated that debut, but also draws the shades back to reveal a little more light. Opening track “Blood Bank” maintains his steady strum but ups the energy level to a more enthusiastic pace. The hollow-eyed desire of “Beach Baby” falls back to a plaintive pastiche, but “Babys” slowly builds towards a semi-psychedelic crescendo. The EP ends in much the same way, ethereal harmonies weaving in and out, as if Bon Iver had consulted Brian Wilson about how to affect a cosmic shift. Recommended for those who believe ambiance is everything. (Jagjaguwar)

Bon Iver MySpace page

Eleni Mandell has been well under most everyone’s radar, evidenced by the fact that Artificial Fire is Mandell’s seventh studio release and there’s a good chance you haven’t heard of her yet. This time around, she claims to have pulled inspiration from her inner teenager, and that makes for a mostly upbeat, quirky romp, and quite a contrast from Mandell’s previous album, Miracle of Five, which was more crooner-ish. Mandell’s rich, soft and always on-pitch voice is still there, but there are so many other variables at work in the arrangements and production of Artificial Fire, it’s pretty impossible to become bored. That’s not to say every song is compelling, but Eleni has some real winners here, especially the title track, which features some sweet psychedelic guitar riffs, the rock swagger of “Little Foot” and the dark, sweet croon of “I Love Planet Earth.” But the best track of all is “Don’t Let It Happen,” which has a pure pop feel with a ‘50s bent, sort of like a female version of Buddy Holly. This is just another fine release from an artist who deserves a bit more of your attention. (LABEL: Zedtone)

Eleni Mandell MySpace Page

Here’s something to make you feel older than dirt, Steve Earle fans: Not only is Earle’s son a grown-up singer/songwriter in his own right, but he’s releasing his second album on March 3 – and he already sounds as weary and worldly wise as his old man did on 1996’s I Feel Alright. But don’t look to the elder Earle’s music for points of reference when listening to Midnight at the Movies - like his old man, Justin Townes Earle doesn’t boast a classically strong set of pipes, but his voice is clearer and his songs generally better-kempt than his dad’s, wobbling just a little more gracefully down the line between rock and country. What the album sounds a lot like, actually, is the Replacements’ All Shook Down, only with slightly more consistent songs – a similarity brought into relief by Earle’s sleepy cover of the ‘Mats classic “Can’t Hardly Wait.” Earle also kinda-sorta covers the standard “John Henry” here, but for the most part, these songs are self-penned, and they stand up to the best that AAA/alt-country has to offer. Never mind the sophomore jinx – Earle sounds like he’s been at this forever, and might have enough stories in his guitar case to keep on rolling for a lifetime. If you’re a fan of the genre, Midnight at the Movies is not to be missed. (Bloodshot 2009)

Justin Townes Earle MySpace page

Sometimes new artists come out of nowhere to brighten our day and sometimes they help by painting beautiful images in our heads with their music - be they bright, or be they cloudy and drizzly as Dana Falconberry does on the aptly titled Oh Skies of Grey. Falconberry is an Austin Texas singer/songwriter who moved from her hometown of Dearborn, Michigan a few years back and has been hanging around the camps of Patty Griffin, Peter Buck and Alejandro Escovedo. What you’ll hear in Falconberry is equal parts sultry folkster (Griffin), rainy day alt-popster (Suzanne Vega), and bombastic arrangements that give her songs incredible character (think Laura Veirs). All of this is wrapped up in a neat package and delivered with authority on Oh Skies of Grey, and it’s the kind of moody fare that you stick in your CD player and forget about for a while, or at least until the sun starts peaking through. The best tracks among 12 varied and well-crafted ones are the shuffling, hauntingly sexy “Love Will Never Leave You Alone” and “Flourescent” as well as the unofficial title track, “Blue Umbrella.” (2:59)

Dana Falconberry MySpace Page