Category: Pop (Page 101 of 216)

Sixpence None the Richer: The Dawn of Grace

When Sixpence None the Richer’s breakup proved temporary in 2004, it seemed only natural that a holiday album would provide the inevitable impetus to bring them back together. Though the band has been back together for at least a year, The Dawn of Grace is confirmation of the band’s spiritual solidarity, a religious thread that’s been woven into their music since the beginning. Singer Leigh Nash is still the group’s most identifying element, her waif-like vocals imbuing the sweetness in their sound and an angelic presence that’s an apt ingredient when it comes to heralding in the holidays. Here the band sample from both the spiritual and the secular, mixing in the obvious (“Silent Night,” yet another read of Joni Mitchell’s “The River,” now a seasonal standard) with a few pop pieces that tie into the holiday joy (the tropically sway of “Christmas Island,” a gentle and caressing “Christmas for Two”) and pull it all off with equal aplomb. The group’s willowy sound doesn’t infuse any deeper meaning that isn’t gleaned already from the inclusion of the more reverent selections, but as a pleasant aside, The Dawn of Grace is a lovely, if low-cast, bit of seasonal solace. (La Face)

Sixpence None The Richer website page

The Korgis: Something About the Korgis – Sound & Vision

Leave it to an astute archival label like Angel Air to take it upon itself to revive a band like the Korgis, a deserving combo that was scarcely appreciated even in their native Great Britain. An offshoot of the equally obscure Stackridge, the trio released four albums in the late ‘70s and actually attained something of a lingering hit, a haunting little gem called “Everybody’s Got to Learn Sometime.” Etched in the great British pop tradition – one that relied on such esteemed forebears as the Kinks, the Hollies and naturally, the Beatles – the band carved its template from lush, effusive melodies, subtly shaded arrangements and the cooing vocals of chief protagonists Andy Davis and James Warren, the Stackridge expatriates who shaped the band’s sound. Something About the Korgis is their fifth offering from Angel Air and their second Korgis compilation, but given the songs’ strong first impression it’s clear the group warrant the additional exposure. Two takes on “Everybody’s Got to Learn Sometime” and a more recent release – the aptly dubbed “Something About the Beatles” – find a place among nineteen selections representing the best of the Korgis catalogue. A bonus DVD featuring an unplugged performance by the reunited trio, archival videos and an illuminating documentary complete the package, making this a must-have for that especially discerning collector who considers him or herself a Korgis completist. Angel Air

The Korgis MySpace page

Travis: Ode to J. Smith

In advance of their sixth studio album’s release, Travis promised it would be their “loudest and edgiest yet,” which was both intriguing and laughable; given that the band’s recent efforts had seen them slipping into increasingly beige, tempo-hostile territory – and given that they’ve never exactly been rockers – Fran Healy and co. could have cut the most moderately “edgy” album in history and still lived up to their prediction. Surprise, surprise – Ode to J. Smith actually does rock, sort of. This is still Travis we’re talking about, so don’t go in expecting Motörhead levels of noise, but these 11 tracks are certainly among the sweatiest Travis has ever recorded – and what’s more, they are, by and large, quite a lot of fun to listen to. Opener “Chinese Blues” finds them bridging the gap between Coldplay and Oasis (and pulling it off), “Broken Mirror” is Nirvana by way of early Radiohead, and “Last Words” blends discreet strings, buzzsaw guitars, a banjo, and a niftily understated rhythm track to build a case for a new golden era of alt. rock in the 21st century. Hell, Healy even lets out a scream at one point during “Long Way Down.” It isn’t likely to win them many new American converts, but as an unexpectedly sprightly mid-career entry from an act that seemed to have fallen in a deep rut, it’s one of the nicest surprises of the fourth quarter. Britpop fans, order your copies at once. (Red Telephone Box 2008)

Travis MySpace page

Various Artists: The Best of Bond…James Bond

Albums like The Best of Bond…James Bond are tough to critique; on one hand, this album was released with a near-identical track listing back in 2002 (the 2008 version replaces Moby with Chris Cornell and k.d. lang), which means the 2008 issue is just an opportunistic cash grab. On the other hand, the contents of both albums are impeccable. Louis Armstrong, Shirley Bassey (three times), Paul McCartney, Duran Duran, Carly Simon, A-ha (don’t laugh, their theme for “The Living Daylights” is one of the most underrated Bond themes ever), and Tom Jones on one disc? That is 16 different flavors of awesome, right there. Of course, the album doesn’t feature “Another Way to Die,” Jack White and Alicia Keys’ theme for “Quantum of Solace,” but don’t worry; that will surely appear on the 2014 issue of this album. See our problem with this? It’s good stuff – but its existence is awfully cynical, too. (Capitol)

Click to buy The Best of Bond…James Bond

Chop Chop: Screens

If you’ve ever wondered what it might sound like if Liz Phair listened to a lot of Portishead, you’ll want to drop whatever you’re doing and order a copy of Chop Chop’s Screens right now – these 12 tracks surround Catherine Cavanagh’s frail, icy vocals with cheap-sounding digital rhythms, drape the occasional French horn or xylophone over the framework, and call it pop. The record has plenty of vibe, and loads of the I-love-you-leave-me-alone attitude that we crave from our indie chick singers, but it rarely rises above mood music; vast stretches of Screens don’t do much besides wander around slowly in search of a hook, and the performances are so dispassionate that you can listen to the album half a dozen times without feeling like it’s any closer to letting you in. The band has previously covered Joy Division’s “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” so you know they’ve heard music that successfully contrasts messy human emotions with machine-driven precision – they just didn’t bother, or weren’t able, to come up with any of it here. Screens is a fine record for playing while you’re curled up under the covers on a rainy day, crying about your latest heartbreak. Just don’t expect to feel like listening to it on many other occasions. (Arch Enemy 2008)

Chop Chop MySpace page

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