Category: Americana (Page 18 of 23)

A.A. Bondy: When the Devil’s Loose

September 4, 2009 /

A.A. Bondy’s penchant for creating melodious tomes belies his aggressive origins as point man in the hardcore Southern grunge outfit Verbena. While the group racked up numerous Nirvana comparisons – and even enticed Dave Grohl to produce their major label debut – it was fortuitous that the band eventually opted to go their separate ways. That allowed Bondy time and motivation to regroup and, in fact, refocus his direction. His first solo outing, American Hearts, turned some heads, but When the Devil’s Loose will likely be the one to draw the most attention, thanks to a cache of hollow-eyed balladry, supple melodies and a sublime sense of songcraft. The album gets off to a slow start – mellow, laconic, sad and subdued — but as it progresses, the pace picks up, and with it, the hooks become better defined. “On the Moon” betrays a hint of antebellum ambiance, almost as if it came from the pen of Stephen Foster. “I Can See the Pines Are Dancing” and “The Mercy Wheel” are quietly compelling, an underlying determination punctuating the restive posture. Admittedly, When the Devil’s Loose takes further listens to fully appreciate its subtlety and nuance, but any time invested ultimately becomes time well spent. (Fat Possum 2009)

A.A. Bondy MySpace page

Americana, CD QuickTakes, CD Reviews, Emo, Folk, Melodramatic, Pop

Leslie and the Badgers: Roomful of Smoke

September 4, 2009 /

As fitting an album title as we’ve seen in ages. Not only does the latest effort from Los Angeles ork-country outfit Leslie and the Badgers sound like a roomful of smoke, you can also taste the stale beer at the bar, smell the exhaust from the van that’s already on its way to the next show, and hear the sizzle of the overdone eggs at the diner that opens at 0-dark-thirty. The band doesn’t sound as rough around the edges as those hallmarks to life on the road might indicate; outside of singer Leslie Stevens’ Dolly Parton-ish twang, Roomful of Smoke is a very modern-sounding album that happens to be steeped in traditional country, which means lots of fiddles and broken hearts by the pound. (They even pull out a singing saw for “If I Was a Linen.”) “Winter Fugue,” however, sounds like a lost Jayhawks track, while the playful two-step “Don Juan” will surely be every scorned college girl’s best friend. It’s tempting to refer to Leslie and the Badgers as the real Lonely Hearts Club Band, but with songs like these, we’re guessing Leslie and her mates don’t spend much time alone. (Leslie and the Badgers 2009)

Leslie and the Badgers MySpace page

Americana, CD QuickTakes, CD Reviews, Country, Pop

Tim Easton: Porcupine

August 28, 2009 /

After four albums of portraying himself as the sensitive singer/songwriter type, Tim Easton returns to his roots and offers up a kinetic collection of jittery, frayed and unhinged rock ‘n’ roll clearly designed to usurp any more melodic impressions. As its title implies, Porcupine is embossed with a jagged edge and a prickly sensibility, given there’s only two actual ballads to speak of – “Stone’s Throw Away” and “Long Cold Night in Bed” – and they’re a moribund selection at that. “Seventh Wheel” offers the most orthodox attempt at conveying purely catchy choruses, but the rest of the set comes across as a cache of edgy, agitated, insurgent leanings, with at least a pair of tracks – “Get What I Got” and “Baltimore” specifically – suggesting that Easton may have sourced his inspiration from two of rock’s better-known procurers of angst and outrage, John Lennon and Steve Earle, respectively. And speaking of influences, it’s hard to avoid the comparisons churned through “Northbound,” a deft reflection of Creedence Clearwater Revival in early swamp-infested mode. Still, Easton also manages to maintain his knack for pointed – and poignant – observation, via what ultimately gels as the album’s standout selection, “Broke My Heart.” “There are only two things left in this world / Love and the lack thereof,” he sings, oozing a combination of resolve and recognition.
Fortunately, for all its unsettled, topsy-turvy miasma, Easton finds some stability residing at the heart of this foreboding beast.

Tim Easton MySpace page

Americana, CD QuickTakes, CD Reviews, Folk, Melodramatic, Rock

Lollapalooza Pre-Day One: Chicago, The City That Doesn’t Give Receipts…and kills its favorite sons

August 7, 2009 /

I lived here for ten years, so it should not surprise me in the slightest that things will not go according to plan when I pop into Midway. Even a transaction as simple as a receipt for some Combos would be easy…right? Wrong. The credit card-paying woman in front of me got a receipt with no trouble, while I watched the same woman that helped her hit an infinite series of buttons over and over, only to get the “beep beep” sound again and again…and again. I eventually let it go, thinking it was just a buck and change. I collected my suitcase from baggage claim and headed for the Orange Line.

There are multiple options for riders when you are looking for train passes at the CTA. I was looking for a five-day pass, but all I saw were three-day passes, seven-day passes, and the ‘give us all your money and it will never be enough’ passes. I reluctantly bought a seven-day pass, since I knew I had a hell of a lot of train traffic in my future, and to my benefit, I at least got a pass, which the person in front of me did not, because his transaction “timed out.” I asked the machine to print a receipt, and it said ‘Okay’…then did nothing. Damn, man. I paid for two extra days of travel, and you can’t print me a receipt?

Welcome to Chicago, kids. “The city that works.” So I took my seven-day pass and went to get on the Midway stop on the Orange line. Out of curiosity, I asked the woman at the handicapped entrance, “Did they get rid of the five-day pass?” “They sell those at currency exchanges and Jewel/Osco’s,” she told me, about 30 seconds too late. How convenient, I think. That would have required me to buy a pass to get on the train, get off the train, find a currency exchange or Jewel/Osco, buy a five-day pass, then reboard. Again, welcome to Chicago, the city that works…but doesn’t print receipts.

So I jump on the Orange Line train for my hotel, and the second the doors close and the train heads on its way towards downtown…there is an inescapable whistling sound on the train. It has nothing to do with the train’s velocity – it’s just…there. So even as I try to forget everything that has happened up to this point, the damn subway train is taunting me. “You didn’t get a receipt, sucker! Ha ha hahahahahahahaha!” To make matters worse, my wife texts me later in the day and says, “Sit down,” then tells me that John Hughes is dead. This, after I saw some guy tear around the Sears Tower (technically the Willis Tower, but sorry, it’s way too soon for that) in a convertible, which instantly made me think of the garage attendants from “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” taking a joy ride with a similar car. Creepy.

Friday’s forecast: Chance of thunderstorms, high ’80s. Sorry, but the day after John Hughes dies, it should rain in Chicago. The entire world lost a brother, a son, a father, an uncle, and their best friend. I know that I’m supposed to be excited about covering a music fesitval, and I am…but damn, man, I just lost John Hughes. In fact, I just talked with English Beat singer Dave Wakeling, and happened to ask him about John Hughes, Man, this makes me sad.

BE: When John Hughes contacted you in 1987 and asked you to write the title track for his latest movie, did you think that you had just been touched by the hand of God?

DW: Well, that god had touched my hand a few months before. He came backstage in Anaheim after we played a concert. And as he shook my hand, he said, “Anybody who’s got the balls to put a bassoon in a pop record, and get it in the charts, is my man.” He was referring to the bassoon part in “Tenderness” [mimics bassoon line]. We became good friends and I went to his house a few times, and he’s got a wall of records, 50 feet long, 12 feet high. You could point to anywhere on it, and he knew exactly which record it was. Far more serious about music than I ever was, that’s for sure. It was before I had become computerized – and probably before a lot of people had – so we’d talk about this idea of “She’s Having a Baby.” We both had young children and we discussed the ways it makes things better and some ways it makes things worse, and the changes it brings to couples once they start having kids. And then we started writing each other, so I wrote the first draft of “She’s Having a Baby,” and I would send it to him, and he wrote back with suggestions, or angles, where he thought the movie was going. We wrote back and forth three or four times, which I thought was one of the most exciting co-writes I’ve ever done, really. Brilliant man. I don’t even know what he does now. Did he just retire, or what?

BE: He pops out a script about once every seven years. It’s weird. He pulled a Terrence Malick; he just disappeared.

DW: I wonder what he does. I’d like to see him. Is he a happy chap, or is he a reclusive type?

BE: I honestly have no idea. I know that I miss him.

Damn. If I only knew.

Alternative, Americana, Concerts, Electronica, External Music, giveaway, Less Talk, More Music, Lollapalooza, Pop, Rock, Ska

Jace Everett: Red Revelations

July 24, 2009 /

Jace Everett is billed as a singer/songwriter, and he is one, yes. But since singer/songwriter has become a genre that usually implies a single person with a guitar or piano, it’s probably more accurate to just call Everett a rocker in the Americana vein. Everett is best known for being the dude behind the song “Bad Things,” which is the opening theme for HBO’s “True Blood” (and this album’s closing track), so the guy already had somewhat of a launching pad for his career. Which brings us to Everett’s new (and third) album, Red Revelations, a serviceable collection of tube amplifier- and Fender guitar-charged rock songs. At various times, Everett channels Elvis and Johnny Cash and Mellencamp and Springsteen, but most closely resembles Chris Isaak, and while the songs are rocking and entertaining enough, it’s not likely that you’re going to be humming most of them a few minutes later. And Everett also drops into that Elvis “Thank you, thank you very much” lower register a bit too often than he needs to. Regardless, there are a few standouts, like the upbeat “More to Life (Cmon, Cmon),” which has gang harmonies that give the track a Huey Lewis & the News feel, and “Little Black Dress,” which features some pretty slick guitar work. (Weston Boys 2009)

Jace Everett MySpace Page

Americana, CD QuickTakes, CD Reviews, Country, Rock

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