Category: CD Reviews (Page 143 of 399)

The Black Crowes: Before the Frost…Until the Freeze


RIYL: Gov’t Mule, North Mississippi Allstars, The Allman Brothers Band

Two albums in one, a CD purchase of Before the Frost… gets you a download code to receive the album’s companion release, …Until the Freeze. The download portion is available in both mp3 and FLAC formats. The vinyl version pulls all the material – 20 songs, 19 new Black Crowes tunes, plus a cover of the Stephen Stills-Chris Hillman song “So Many Times” – into a double album, but in a different running order.

Great playing, as always. Soulful singing. Strong material, even. The same lineup – still including Luther Dickinson, guitarist from North Mississippi Allstars – has been in place for a few years now (this’ll be their third album, if you include both the studio and live versions of Warpaint), and it shows on the seemingly effortless musicianship always on display on a Black Crowes joint. There’s a reason they’re one of the great American true rock & roll bands, and their hard-working professionalism is on display here. It’s a studio album that was recorded in a quasi-live setting, before an audience of fans at Levon Helm’s Woodstock, NY studio in late February and early March of this year, and the intimate setting really suits them. Standouts include “Houston Don’t Dream About Me,” the funky “Kept My Soul,” “Appaloosa,” with its simple and catchy chorus (and great guitar solo), “Last Place That Love Lives” and “I Ain’t Hiding” (this, despite its sorta-disco beat that’s a little hard to take over the course of the song).

Until the Freeze… is more acoustic and laid-back, with some fun country-ish numbers that really work, surprisingly, given the Crowes’ penchant for bluesy hard rawk workouts. The addition of fiddle and pedal steel, courtesy of utility session player Larry Campbell really countrifies things, and it’s hard not to wonder how the hardcore Crowes fans – which, let’s face it, are mainly there for the rocking guitars – are going to take to it.

Fans are going to love this record, but it’s not going to win them any new converts. Most people aren’t even going to be aware of this album. There’s no big hit single here, no “Jealous Again” or “Remedy” or “She Talks to Angels” or even “Hard to Handle,” the cover tune that put them on the map in the first place. And I’m sure that’s just fine for both the Black Crowes and their solid legion of fans. But I think they deserve more. (Silver Arrow 2009)

The Black Crowes MySpace page

Mutemath: Armistice


RIYL: Power Station, Wire Train, Gomez

When the members of New Orleans-based rock band Mutemath were beating their heads against the wall with the new material they had written as the follow-up to their stellar 2006 debut, the band almost broke up. The songs just were missing something, and they all knew it. Instead of channeling their energy into a bitter divorce, though, Mutemath enlisted the help of producer Dennis Herring (Modest Mouse, The Hives, Elvis Costello), who told them to start over again and write some new stuff. They did, but they did so with an angry passion they lacked before the near-breakup, and the result is a powerful set of new tunes called Armistice. Singer Paul Meany may be one of the best rock vocalists you know nothing about, but that should hopefully change with this groundbreaking album. Right from the start with “The Nerve,” Meany and his band mates symbolically pay tribute to their own rebirth, with the gang vocal chorus shouting, “Set it on fire!” The layers of guitars and strings, slapping bass and tasty drums all mesh well with Meany’s vocals in a way few bands manage to these days. But just like the band’s debut, Armistice has twists and turns and variations in style and texture – especially on the electro-funk of “Backfire” or the title track to the alt-pop beauty of “Pins and Needles” or “Goodbye” to the Goo Goo Dolls-ish “Lost Year.” Whether or not the band does feel like it lost a year, they sure did gain back their self-respect and have delivered one of the best rock records of the year. (Warner Brothers 2009)

Mutemath MySpace page

Various Artists: Where The Action Is! Los Angeles Nuggets 1965-1968


RIYL: Byrds, Beach Boys, Love

One would think that it wouldn’t have taken six volumes before the renowned Nuggets series finally got around to the fertile music scene that dominated Los Angeles in the mid ‘60s. With ample sets devoted to London and San Francisco, and extensive treatment given New York and the Northeast, cynics might perceive Where the Action Is! almost as an afterthought, coming, as it does, this late in the Nuggets progression. Nevertheless, it’s a welcome addition to the canon, given that the ‘60s were practically defined by the folk rock, psychedelia and experimental sounds that echoed through the Southern California canyons, its sprawling suburbs, white, sunny beaches, and the haunts and hangouts on the Sunset Strip. And while the roll call of musicians birthed in those environs encompasses some of the more formidable figures of modern rock and pop, the L.A. scene was also responsible for would-be innovators who etched only a momentary foothold in that innovative era.

This, of course, is where Nuggets has always served its purpose, to bring to light the obscure and unlikely artists that have slipped through the cracks, both the one-hit wonders and early permutations of bands that would ultimately achieve stardom under some later aegis. And in the case of Where The Action Is!, that mission has never been better served. The obvious examples from that era are, of course, well-represented, from Captain Beefheart and the Byrds to the Beach Boys and Buffalo Springfield, while bands like Love, the Seeds and the Turtles, transient teen idols Dino, Desi & Billy, Kim Fowley and Keith Allison, and preposterous pretenders such as Peter Fonda and Noel Harrison also find a good fit. As befitting those heady, innocent days, there are plenty of band brands that give cause for chuckles, given that the psychedelic ‘60s propagated groups with names like the Everpresent Fullness, London Phogg, Farpardokly, Limey & the Yanks, Ken & the Fourth Dimension, the W.C. Fields Memorial Electric String Band and, of course, the Peanut Butter Conspiracy.

Happily, though, beyond a few laughable attempts to keep up with the times – note Rick Nelson’s attempts to get all druggy and descriptive with “Marshmallow Skies” and the Monkees’ psychedelic “Daily Nightly” – most of the music is surprisingly engaging. To the producers’ credit, less obvious entries from the better-known bands are tapped for inclusion, even to the extent of providing a rare alternate take of “Heroes and Villains” that differs dramatically from the final version. The real mother lode comes in the form of an early, heretofore undiscovered recording of “Sit Down I Think I Love You,” recorded by ex Au Go-Go Singers Steve Stills and Richie Furay prior to their later union in Buffalo Springfield.

Likewise, early works by Taj Mahal, Warren Zevon, Randy Newman, Nilsson and Little Feat’s Lowell George also serve historical interest and add value to a set that seems worthy enough – given its four discs, over a hundred songs and an extensive chronicle – to substantiate its $64.98 suggested retail price. An excellent compendium from a Day-Glo period, this may be the nicest Nuggets of all. (Rhino 2009)

Mika: The Boy Who Knew Too Much


RIYL: Queen, George Michael, Harry Nilsson

As anyone who’s ever tried to tell a story to a room full of people can tell you, it’s exceedingly difficult to entertain even one person, let alone several million – which is part of why it’s always so disappointing to see successful entertainers try and get serious on us. From Bill Murray in “The Razor’s Edge” to George Michael with Listen Without Prejudice, Volume One, artists are forever trying to show us that they can do more than make us laugh and/or dance – usually with disappointing results. Let’s give Mika credit, then, for not forgetting what moved six million copies of his 2007 debut, Life in Cartoon Motion – namely, the same gleefully layered Technicolor pop that forms the basis of its follow-up, The Boy Who Knew Too Much.

Mika makes no bones about sticking close to his roots, so to speak; as soon as you lay eyes on Boy’s artwork, which looks – at a glance, anyway – awfully similar to Cartoon Motion’s, you’ll know this isn’t going to be a major departure. In fact, it’s really just more of everything: more bright pop hooks, more production, and more wonderfully over-the-top arrangements. It takes less than a full minute before Mika’s leading what sounds like a cast of hundreds in a sing-along chant of “We are not what you think we are! We are golden!” and it’s off to the races from there, in one endless falsetto loop-de-loop of swirling harmonies, pounding pianos, and instantly memorable melodies.

Of course, it also bears mentioning that they’re fairly derivative; at his best, Mika suggests nothing so much as Queen’s greatest hits and Faith-era George Michael thrown together in a blender and pureed to a sweet, frothy consistency, with a few 21st-century production gewgaws sprinkled in for extra texture. It’s certainly nothing you haven’t heard before, in other words – but on the other hand, few artists who attempt this kind of pop fetishism do it as well as Mika; The Boy Who Knew Too Much, like Life in Cartoon Motion, feels more like an extension of his influences’ aesthetics than a hollow homage. After listening to an album this ridiculously fun, it’s natural to brace yourself for the bad aftertaste, but Mika does such a good job of synthesizing his personal songwriting perspective with these familiar ingredients that the hangover never comes.

There really aren’t any bad tracks here, although Mika is at his best when he’s doing his upbeat dance between baroque brilliance and utter ridiculousness; the album’s more sedate songs might have a deeper meaning, but they aren’t nearly as much fun. The pick of the litter is unquestionably “Touches You,” which sounds – in the best possible way – like it could have been a Faith B-side. With its driving piano, whomping synth bass, oceans of dovetailing background vocals, and a melody that sounds like it was as much fun to write as it is to play at full volume, it neatly encapsulates everything that’s great about Mika – and pretty much everything that works in modern pop music, for that matter – in a tidy 3:20. Let’s hope he never forgets it. (Universal/Casablanca 2009)

Mika MySpace page

Vinyl Life: Vinyl Life


RIYL: Kraftwerk, Afrika Bambaata, Jungle Brothers

New York trio Vinyl Life is about to make a bunch of former DJs very happy. Their self-titled debut is the most authentic tribute to ’80s dance music that we’ve heard, well, since the ’80s. “Hi Tops” is a miniature Name That Riff, using the keyboard lines from Inner City’s “Big Fun” and Maurice’s “This Is Acid” and merging them into a freestyle freak-out. “Electric Symphony” sounds like a sunnier Dubnobasswithmyheadman-era Underworld, and “Like This” will have Mantronik fans popping in their seats. The rapping is old-school in both delivery (it’s actually on the beat) and subject matter (sex, sex, sex), and most refreshingly, it’s almost entirely profanity-free. The guest rappers on the album’s final two tracks are not as accomodating, but just try not to laugh when one of them pulls an “Instant Club Hit”-type rant at the end of the don’t-be-a-douchebag smackdown “Take It Off.” Bonus points for “Future Beat,” which takes the signature Stock, Aitken & Waterman drum sound – think the opening to Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” – and restores its inherent coolness.

The album is even available for download on a donate-what-you-want basis (but unlike Radiohead, you have to pay at least a dollar) at Tape Theory Records’ site. Best dollar you’ll ever spend. (Tape Theory Records 2009)

Vinyl Life MySpace page

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