Category: CD QuickTakes (Page 21 of 149)

Sarah McLachlan: Laws of Illusion


RIYL: Annie Lennox, Enya, Jewel

Sarah McLachlan’s brand of pillowy, doe-eyed balladry has always been easily parodied, but beneath all the glossy instrumentation and tastefully aching vocals, her music has always had a dark depth that belied its adult contemporary trappings – and offered proof that it’s possible to create placidly pretty music with real emotional undertow.

Sarah McLachlan

Alas, this is something McLachlan seems to have forgotten during the seven years since she released her last album of original material. Right from the album cover, which finds her lounging beautifully on the moon, Laws of Illusion has the disconnected, gauzy air of a fantasy; the track listing floats woozily from one vaguely moody, mid-tempo number to the next. It’s like a Thomas Kinkade painting set to music – which is pretty ironic, considering Illusion is more or less a song cycle about the collapse of McLachlan’s marriage. You’d think this would raise the stakes for her usual themes – love, obsession, heartbreak – but instead, these songs feel curiously flat, with melodies that have the plastic echo of McLachlan’s past work and some of the most enervating arrangements of her career. Even the song titles are tired: “U Want Me 2”? Where’s a Prince lawsuit when you need one? Any random Peter Cetera album has more heft.

None of which probably matters to most Sarah McLachlan fans. Her earlier work’s resonance earned her critical respect, but it’s got little to do with the millions of records she’s sold; to a lot of people, a Sarah McLachlan album’s true value lies in its smooth surface appeal, and Laws of Illusion is nothing if not smooth. If none of it is particularly memorable, well, McLachlan’s voice is as lovely as ever, and these songs will still sound great with your next candlelit bubble bath. Proceed accordingly. (Arista 2010)

Sarah McLachlan MySpace page

The Chemical Brothers: Further


RIYL: Fatboy Slim, 808 State, Crystal Method

After briefly flirting with the mainstream in 2005 thanks to their Indian-riffing rump shaker “Galvanize,” one would forgive the Chemical Brothers if they liked the look of the spotlight and decided to spend some more time there. It’s to their immense credit, then, that their post-“Galvanize” efforts have been the most noncommercial work of their career, and their latest album, Further, is the most insular album they’ve made to date, not to mention their most fitting album title.

Chemical_Brothers_04

If they recorded for anyone other than Astralwerks, one of the last artist-friendly labels left standing, the A&R man would surely be telling them “I don’t hear a single,” because Further, well, doesn’t have one. In fact, the album has a lot of “silhouette” tracks, a trick that electronic acts use where they start with an existing song and keep adding bits to it while slowly removing everything from the original track until they have something brand new. The 12-minute “Escape Velocity” is a direct descendant of “It Began in Afrika” and “The Sunshine Underground” (but not as catchy as either), while “Another World” is a slower version of “Star Guitar” and “Horse Power” sounds as if it were built from the bones of “Break Shake Bounce” and “Hey Boy Hey Girl.” The closest the album comes to a pop song is the blissed-out psychedelia of “Dissolve.” Not coincidentally, this is also the album’s finest moment.

Further is both admirable and damned frustrating. Rowlands and Simons only make music for themselves, and that is how it should be (they refrained from using guest performers this time around, which is a nice change of pace), but we’re beginning to see the limits of their range as songwriters. They’re also trying just a bit too hard to avoid anything that could be classified as Big Beat, even though those records were some of the best things they’ve ever done. It’s good to be true to yourself, but there are times when it’s not such a bad thing to give the people what they want. (Astralwerks 2010)

Chemical Brothers MySpace page
Click to buy Further from Amazon

Devo: Something for Everybody


RIYL: Jerking back and forth, whipping it, playing peek-a-boo

Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison and Kurt Cobain lived and died in less time than the gap between Devo’s last decent album and the present. (Add a year if you want to go back to their last truly good album.) The band’s last album, Smooth Noodle Maps, is almost old enough to buy its own beer, all of which is a flowery way of saying that it’s been a long, long time since Devo was even close to being on their game.

Devo_01

Or maybe they were just biding their time. After all, there was no point in Devo releasing new music in the ’90s or even the first half of the ’00s, as the musical climate would have been indifferent at best and hostile at worst. Now, on the other hand, is a damned good time to be Devo, on a number of levels. Between the New New Wave movement (most of which, frankly, stinks) and the emergence of former alt.rock chart giants dominating the kids music circuit, Devo, for the first time in decades, has options. And they’re striking while the iron is hot.

Something for Everybody, Devo’s first album in 20 years, is an embarrassment of riches. The songs are insanely catchy – “What We Do” and “Human Rocket” are among the best songs the band’s ever done – and the production deftly blends classic Devo (think Freedom of Choice, New Traditionalists and Oh No! It’s Devo) with modern-day flourishes. The lyrics are still oddball, but tamer; there’s no talk of slapping mammies or altruistic perverts, and that’s just fine. Not everything here works – “Cameo” tries a bit too hard, and “Sumthin'” is too slavish in its attempt to channel “Whip It” – but this is far better than anyone had a right to expect from a band nearly 30 years removed from its commercial peak. Bravo, gents. (Warner Bros. 2010)

Devo MySpace page
Click to buy Something for Everybody from Amazon

Bo Bice: 3


RIYL: Lynyrd Skynyrd, Allman Brothers, Marc Broussard

Bo Bice will forever be the guy who finished second to Carrie Underwood on Season 4 of “American Idol.” Many were outraged, thinking Bice had the goods and delivered the performances in the finale to merit winning it all. However, America voted for Underwood and the rest is history. It appears now that it was probably the correct long-haul decision, but that doesn’t mean Bice hasn’t made a nice career for himself. Now he’s back with his third effort, aptly titled 3, which is his debut on Saguaro Records, home to the likes of Patty Loveless and Lonestar. If you like straight-ahead country fried Southern rock, there isn’t much you won’t like about 3. It’s ten songs of shuffling, bluesy goodness, right from the first notes and horn hits of “Keep on Rollin’,” to the honky tonk, riff-infused “Coming Back Home” to the pretty balladry of “Wild Roses.” But there are a few tinges of mediocrity, too, most notably “Good Hearted Woman,” on which Bice seems to hover in a register too low for his vocal range; and “Long Road Back,” which is catchy enough but seems to drone on a bit. Still, Bo Bice keeps on rolling, and his songwriting seems to improve with each effort. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t want Underwood’s money, but…(Saguaro Records 2010)

Bo Bice MySpace page

Robyn: Body Talk Pt. 1


RIYL: ABBA, Annie, Goldfrapp

No one in mainstream pop blends cutting-edge production flourishes with devastating hooks better than Robyn. You want to know what’s wrong with the major record labels in 2010? Don’t look at illegal file sharing, look at the fact that not one of them was able to turn her into a dancefloor-ruling superstar after her debut. More power to Robyn that she’s releasing her music on her own imprint and her own terms, but in the old days, talent like this was locked up, placed in indentured servitude, and used to make tons and tons of money. When Christina Aguilera recorded her silly Bionic, she wanted to be as cool as Robyn.

Robyn

Compare Bionic with Body Talk Pt. 1 – supposedly the first of three Robyn releases this year – and you’ll hear how far Aguilera, and everyone else on the American pop scene, has to go. At just a blonde hair over half an hour, Body Talk covers more ground than most dance-pop singers manage to stake out in a career, from the trippy, spoken-murmured opener “Don’t Fucking Tell Me What to Do” to the closing number, the Swedish traditional song “Jag Vet En Dejilg Rosa.” In between, you get the delicious champagne fizz of “Fembot” and the prom-theme-in-waiting “Cry When You Get Older” (suck it, Vitamin C!), plus a moody dance track (“Dancing on My Own”), a chilly slice of synth reggae (“Dance Hall Queen”), a space-age Röyksopp collaboration (“None of Dem”) and even a piano ballad for good measure (“Hang with Me”).

It’s smart, instantly addictive, and it’s over before it gets anywhere near wearing out its welcome. While Robyn’s imitators are busy copping her sound, they’re all missing the important part – it’s the songwriting, stupid – and if you aren’t a fan yet, then you’re missing out too. Time to correct the error of your ways. (Cherrytree/InterscopeKonichiwa 2010)

Robyn MySpace page

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