Category: Rock (Page 73 of 241)

REO Speedwagon: Not So Silent Night


RIYL: REO Speedwagon, Air Supply, the Grinch

Their name has long been synonymous with toothless, Wonder Bread-flavored AOR, but once upon a time, REO Speedwagon really did aspire to be a kick-ass rock band – and they showed flashes of getting there over a 15-year period, occasionally managing to work up a decent sweat during minor FM classics like Hi Infidelity and Good Trouble, only to be thwarted at every turn by the soft, pale presence of vocalist Kevin Cronin. He’s had his moments as a songwriter, but as a singer, Cronin is about as rock & roll as Liberace, and his fondness for schmaltz has steadily robbed the band of whatever limited credibility it might have enjoyed. And speaking of schmaltz, here’s Not So Silent Night, a fascinatingly dreadful collection of holiday tracks “with a unique REO Speedwagon musical twist,” which is publicist-speak for “corny as all get out.” Not that Christmas albums need to rock, necessarily, but Cronin really castrates the band here, tossing in shiver-inducing spoken-word sketches, terribly inappropriate ad libs, and borderline offensive cover choices (you can’t help but wonder if John Lennon would still be a pacifist if he could hear this version of “Happy Xmas [War Is Over]”). He’s always had the charisma and vocal authority of a hairless kitten, but Not So Silent Night really begs the question of how Kevin Cronin has managed to keep his grip on REO Speedwagon all these years. Of all the veteran bands who should have gone out and found themselves a nice young replacement singer from the Philippines by now, this one surely tops the list. (Sony Legacy 2009)

REO Speedwagon MySpace page

Taylor Hollingsworth: Life with a Slow Ear


RIYL: Steve Earle, Conor Oberst, The Jayhawks

If 2009 were to yield a list of its strangest LPs, I, for one, would nominate the aptly named Life with a Slow Ear for at least an honorable mention. Not that its ragged, homespun ruminations offer anything especially unusual in and of itself; heading up the country and getting back to the roots is a popular path these days, especially for musicians who hunger for a respite from a daily diet of scorching guitars, amplifiers turned up to the max and rhythmic onslaughts that could replicate a small tsunami.

The surprise then isn’t that Taylor Hollingsworth follows suit. A journeyman musician, he spent time in the service of Conor Oberst’s Mystic Valley Band before upping both attitude and amplitude for his initial series of solo outings. However, now that he’s opted to unplug, the thing that separates him from his fellow rustic ramblers is – in a word – his vocals (That’s two words. -Ed.), a high-whining cornhusker of a drawl that suggests a cartoonish attempt at hillbilly authenticity. It undercuts any attempt to take these musings seriously, if for no other reason than it’s such a jolt every time he commands the microphone. While one could concede there’s some synchronicity in his chipmunk chatter and the twangy plunking of “I Didn’t Know It Was the Devil” and “Westfalia,” anytime the mood turns somewhat surreptitious – as in “96 Crayons” and the blustery boogie of “New Orleans Blues” – Hollingsworth actually sounds silly. Attempting to give some weight to “Sin City Blues” – which references both Gram Parsons and Dylan’s “Stuck Inside of Memphis with Those Memphis Blues Again” – Hollingsworth’s voice betrays him, even despite his obvious instrumental dexterity. So while Life with a Slow Ear Is otherwise an admirable effort, it’s a less than critical ear that’s required. (Team Love 2009)

Taylor Hollingsworth MySpace page

Greg Laswell: Covers


RIYL: Nick Cave, Leonard Cohen, Jeff Buckley

With his previous albums, Greg Laswell established his penchant for cinematic soundscapes, purveying a downcast disposition and a haunting, shrouded motif that provided spectral settings for his weary ruminations. Now, he’s taking a brief detour from his own musings via this enticing five-song EP, which retraces songs by Echo and the Bunnymen, Morphine, Mazzy Star, Kristen Hersh and Kate Bush — and, in some cases, actually bests the originals. These songs were somewhat gloomy to begin with, and Laswell makes no attempt to alleviate the mood. Even so, he manages to add a new dimension; by giving a shadowy and shimmering sheen to “Killing Moon,” a lurching yet assertive stance to Hersh’s “Your Ghost,” and buoying the tempo on “In Spite Of Me,” Laswell effectively puts his imprint on each. Likewise, “Take Everything” retains the laconic feel of Mazzy Star’s original, while transforming the song into a stately piano recital, and his take on “This Woman’s Work” strips the song of its harsh veneer and replaces Bush’s signature sensuality with an emphasis on its gentle soul. Ultimately, like every effort in his repertoire, Covers affirms that Laswell’s an original. (Vanguard 2009)

Greg Laswell website

Los Lonely Boys: 1969


RIYL: Santana, Blind Faith, The Doors

The Texas power trio loves classic rock and that affection is on display here with an EP featuring covers of five tunes from one of the greatest years in rock history, 1969. Santana’s “Evil Ways” kicks it off with a showcase for Henry Garza’s blazing lead guitar skills. Blind Faith’s “Well All Right” and the Beatles’ “She Came in Through the Bathroom Window” both receive the “Texican” treatment and become groovier than the original versions. The band makes the songs sound like their own with upbeat arrangements where Garza’s soulful vocals intertwine very nicely with his guitar playing. There are also jamming wah-wah solos at the end of each.

Tony Joe White’s “Polk Salad Annie” is the most obscure track on the disc, but it’s a bluesy rocker that fits right in. The Garza brothers close it out with The Doors’ “Roadhouse Blues,” which also receives an infusion of wah-wah before blowing up into a turbo-charged jam. All the songs retain a classic sound thanks in part to mixing by Andy Johns, the engineer who recorded the original version of “Well All Right” (as well as working with Led Zeppelin and the Rolling Stones.)

These artists are all obvious influences on Los Lonely Boys. But since there would be no point in making an EP of covers that sound just like the originals, it’s fun to hear the band do a strong job of re-arranging the tunes so that anyone of them would fit right into their live set. (R.E.D. Distribution 2009)

Los Lonely Boys MySpace page

The Mother Hips: Pacific Dust


RIYL: Crazy Horse, the Eagles, New Riders of the Purple Sage

Granted, any band that’s been around more than a decade and a half should have been picked up on the public’s radar by this time, and the fact that the Mother Hips have barely registered a blip doesn’t exactly offer any sort of attribute in their favor. It’s a misfortune they lament on “Third Floor Story,” a tale of record company imbroglio that ranks as one of several highlights on this otherwise agreeable new album, their seventh outing to date and possibly their best shot at routing the indifference that’s greeted them thus far. Indeed, based on the evidence offered herein, there’s no reason why this California combo ought not finally win the following that’s eluded them so long. Faithful purveyors of West Coast country rock, with more than a hint of a ‘70s sensibility, they serve up unfettered melodies that once would have invited radio play and the adulation of the masses. Songs like “White Falcon Fuzz,” “One Way Out” and “All in Favor” recall the dusty, free-wheeling affinity that made the Eagles, Neil Young, the Jayhawks and others of that ilk rank so prominently as heartland heroes. Perhaps their problem lies in the fact that they could be perceived as retracing terrain that was so widely traversed more than 30 years ago, and is now considered somewhat out of sync, especially given competition from boy band wannabes, unrepentant rappers and the various other pop pretenders that dominate the charts these days. Too bad – it may not be hip to like the Hips, but when it comes to mining a solid, road-weary sound, they become the Mother of reinvention. (Camera Records 2009)

The Mother Hips MySpace page

« Older posts Newer posts »