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The Chapin Sisters: Two


RIYL: Suzanne Vega, Shawn Colvin, reaaaaaaally depressing music

The Chapin Sisters are Abigail and Lily Chapin, a singing and songwriting duo who come from a long line of musicians. Their father is Grammy award-winning singer/songwriter, Tom Chapin, their uncle is singer/songwriter Harry Chapin, and their grandfather is a jazz drummer. Growing up, the sisters attended a Waldorf school whose art-based education included training in orchestral music, complicated harmonies and old English folk ballads. The wealth of influences that have shaped the Chapin Sisters all come out on their second full length album, Two.

Recorded in rural New Jersey, where Abigail and Lily put together a studio, Two has the feel of a down-home night of singing around the campfire, with the warm hard cider running through your veins and your head kind of fuzzy from the drink and the glow of the flames. The record is lush, full of pristine harmonies and haunting melodies; its low-fi production gives you the feel that you’re in the room with the sisters. With minimal instrumentation, the focus is placed squarely on Abigail and Lily and there is no denying that these women are incredibly gifted singers.

There is also no denying that this is one hell of a depressing album. Everything about Two is so downtrodden and morose that it makes Springsteen’s Nebraska seem like a party album. That’s not meant as an insult, it’s just making this point: you have to be in the right frame of mind to listen to this album.  And if you’re not in that frame of mind, if you’re not feeling down and ready to take a deep hard look at your soul and all that’s wrong with the world, well, a couple songs into Two, and you most certainly will be. (2010 Lake Bottom Records)

The Chapin Sisters webpage

Purchase Two through Amazon

Phil Collins: Going Back


RIYL: Rod Stewart and other recent English artists who have put out cover albums

Those of us old enough to recall when Phil Collins was relevant can tell you that back in the ’80s he dominated the music industry with his musicality (he wrote, sang, produced and drummed the shit out of any record he played on), his cheeky humor, and his ability to transform even the slightest melody into a big hit. Before No Jacket Required, one of his most popular solo recordings was a cover of the Supremes, “You Can’t Hurry Love.”  It closes out Side 1 of Collins’ otherwise dark second album, Hello, I Must Be Going, and it’s a reminder, amongst those songs of bitterness and heartbreak, that Collins liked to have fun.

It’s 2010 now, the music industry has changed and Collins’ effectiveness as an artist has waned. Although he won an Academy Award in 1999 for a song in Disney’s animated “Tarzan,” the charm and musicality of the artist who was so influential in the ’80s is long gone. What’s an aging artist to do when they want to regain the public’s attention after so much time has passed? Why, record an album of covers, of course. Better yet, why not go back to the same Motown sound that gave him his first Top Ten hit?

On his new album, Collins painstakingly reproduced the sound of ’60s-era Detroit, even flying in some of the Funk Brothers over to England for sessions. Collins succeeds on this level, as the music on Going Back has the same tight arrangements and the appropriate amount of reverb to make you think these tunes were recorded over 40 years ago. Yes, the music is splendid, but how could it not be? It’s Motown. The problem with this album occurs the moment Collins opens his mouth to sing.

Through the years, Collins’ voice has become more whiny and bitter; he just doesn’t sing with the same joy or soulfulness to pull off an album of some of the greatest songs ever written. Because of this, no matter how great the music or production value, the tracks on Going Back are not fun to listen to at all. What should have been a loose, lively party record has had all of the soul squeezed out of it. Motown without soul is elevator music, and I’d dread being stuck in any elevator playing this album in the background.

Motown was the sound of young America; the music jumped off of turntables and into hearts. Collins’ renditions strain to get through the stereo speakers, like dried Play-Doh being squeezed through a colander. If you really want to hear a contemporary artist performing music that has the soul and sound of ’60s Motown, go out and buy the latest by Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings. You’ll hear soul music done right, and it’ll cleanse your palate of this dreck. (2010, Atlantic)

Click to buy Going Back from Amazon

Duran Duran: The Special Editions, Part II

And here is where we most likely reach the end of the line for the re-issuing of Duran Duran’s catalog. This is not to say that there are no other albums during their time with Capitol that are worth having – 1997’s Medazzaland remains the band’s most underrated album to date, torpedoed by a terrible first single – but two of the three albums after Big Thing include 1990’s sonic meltdown Liberty and the oft-ridiculed 1995 covers album Thank You. They scored a massively successful comeback with their 1993 “Wedding Album,” but for all intents and purposes, Notorious and Big Thing were the last two albums the band made while still enjoying the penthouse view.

Duran Duran: Notorious

RIYL: Grand notorious slams. Bam.

Notorious suffered some pretty harsh criticism when it was released, and that’s understandable. Let’s face it, this is a dark-sounding album. (Heck, even the album cover is dark.) Those looking for more bouncy percussion and nonsense lyrics must have been stunned to hear so many minor-key grooves (mid-tempo ones at that) and Simon Le Bon singing about lovelessness (“A Matter of Feeling”) and the selling of sex (“Skin Trade”). After all, the last two times the band had hooked up with producer Nile Rodgers, the end results hit #1 (his remix of “The Reflex”) and #2 (“The Wild Boys”), so it’s fair to say that the band had some unfair expectations placed upon them from the get-go. All was well when it came to the title track though, thanks to Rodgers’ trademark scratch guitar and the album’s second-best chorus. (The honor for best chorus goes to “Skin Trade.”) What to make, then, of the chugging “American Science,” or dark rocker “Hold Me”? They’re interesting songs, but so far removed from the way the band had written in the past that they were easy to put down. In hindsight, though, Notorious has held up pretty damn well.

The bonus materials for Notorious are both awesome and maddening. Disc I contains a remaster of the album, fleshed out with single edits for the album’s three singles and the lone B-side “We Need You.” Disc II contains the 12″ mixes for the three singles as well as “American Science” and “Vertigo (Do the Demolition),” along with the live tracks from the Duran Goes Dutch EP. The big score here is “Notoriousaurus Rex,” an eight-minute megamix of the Notorious remixes that only appeared on the rare Master Mixes set. Even better, this version includes the spectacular edit of Notorious closing track “Proposition” that was edited out of the Master Mixes vinyl but appeared on a Capitol promo cassette. If a full-length remix of that song exists somewhere, please, release it.

This isn’t the only mix that was left off here, and that is the maddening part. The dub mixes were forsaken, as was the Latin Rascals mix of “Notorious.” For hardcore fans of the band, these mixes are the most desirable of anything from the period. Thankfully, they’re all available on one super-cheap Remix EP, which means many of the people that EMI is expecting to fork out 30 bones for this set might decide to pay three and change instead.

Duran Duran: Big Thing

RIYL: Noise. ‘Cause you like waking up the house.

Big Thing doesn’t have the dark vibe hanging over it that Notorious does, but it’s definitely a mellower affair than the band had made before, despite the tone of its first two singles. Once you get past the “Warm Leatherette”-riffing “I Don’t Want Your Love” and robotic “All She Wants Is,” Big Thing is filled with ballads, mannered attempts at funk, and interludes (sigh). There are some hidden gems here, notably the Spanish guitar-kissed “Land” and the simple “Too Late Marlene.” Unfortunately there is a lot of filler as well, namely all of Side II except for “Land” and “Palomino,” and even “Palomino” is dangerously close to being filler. It’s mostly pleasant filler, sure, but no one is going to call “The Edge of America” or “Lake Shore Driving” their favorite song by the band. One also wonders how they were never sued for third single “Do You Believe in Shame?,” as it is a blatant rip-off of Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Suzie Q.” Probably because it wasn’t a hit. If it had been, some lawyer would surely have come knocking.

One other interesting bit with Big Thing (and it receives a new – but brief – liner note from John Taylor to address it) is the decision to put the original version of “Drug (It’s Just a State of Mind)” back on the album instead of the remix, which appeared on the original pressing of the album but is now relegated to the bonus disc. John is absolutely right that this version is much more in line stylistically with the rest of the album…but the other version is more fun to listen to. Just sayin’.

Disc II contains two bombshells that should get fans to pony up: a full-length version of the much-loved B-side “I Believe/All I Need to Know” and a 12″ mix for “Big Thing” that is apparently so rare that no one could track down the remix credits. The inclusion of Shep Pettibone’s Eurohouse mix of “All She Wants Is” is a plus though, and like they did with Notorious, there is a download EP of all of the dub mixes from this era. The DVD will be this set’s big carrot, though, as it contains a live show from one of the band’s shortest tours (dig Simon’s Michael Hutchence-esque mane and the striptease the backing singers do during “Skin Trade”), and is loaded with songs that the band has not played live since.

The label got the mastering right with both albums, in that there are no obvious gaffes like the whole “Girls on Film” thing with the reissue of the band’s first album, but these sets deserve some kind of updated liner notes, an intro written by someone either intimately involved with the band or someone well versed in their catalogue. Instead, they include pictures and a folded poster of the band from the photo sessions shot at the time. That’s a big-time missed opportunity, since it’s unlikely these two albums will receive the re-reissue treatment that their first three albums will get down the road. Still, with the holidays fast approaching, the special editions of Notorious and Big Thing are the pitch-perfect stocking stuffer for that Durannie in your life – and you all have one, whether you know it or not – who would love to own these sets but needs to get baby a new pair of shoes. (EMI 2010)

Duran Duran MySpace
Click to buy Notorious: Special Edition from Amazon
Click to buy The Remix EP from Amazon
Click to buy Big Thing: Special Edition from Amazon
Click to buy The Dub Mix EP from Amazon

Guster: Easy Wonderful


RIYL: Barenaked Ladies, Camper Van Beethoven, Ben Folds

In today’s one-and-done record industry climate, it’s something of a miracle that Guster has managed to survive for nearly two decades – they’ve never had a hit, they aren’t the kind of band that inspires much in the way of promotional dollars from labels, and they aren’t hip or edgy enough to create a buzz with the Pitchfork/NPR crowd. Yet they persist, and thank goodness for that – even though each new album feels like it could be the last.

By all accounts, making Easy Wonderful almost did them in for good, thanks to an aborted run of sessions with producer David Kahne that left the band questioning whether they had a future. It took a retreat to the Nashville studio of departing Guster member Joe Pisapia to refuel them – and produce their most layered, eclectic album to date.

Guster_09

For some longtime fans, the words “layered” and “eclectic” carry the sting of betrayal; Guster started out as an acoustic-based trio, and drummer Brian Rosenworcel – a.k.a. “Thundergod” – was famous for not playing with sticks. Starting with 1999’s Lost and Gone Forever, Guster has slowly moved away from the simplicity of its earlier sound, and each subsequent release (2003’s Keep It Together and 2006’s Ganging Up on the Sun) has utilized an increasingly complex, anything-goes aesthetic with room for everything from banjos to whistling solos, typewriter percussion, and dance beats.

It isn’t as innocent a sound, but then, a lot of Guster’s songs deal with the loss of innocence – with regret, loneliness, and emotional distance, and a burning, childlike hope that persists in spite of it all. It’s a deeper artistic outlook than most, and it makes sense that the songs’ arrangements should reflect that. There’s a fine line between “grown-up pop” and “mid-tempo morass,” though, and Guster has occasionally erred on the wrong side; chunks of Keep It Together and especially Ganging Up on the Sun felt like the work of a band that was struggling to mature without losing its energy.

Happily, Easy Wonderful doesn’t really have that problem. The songs are still resolutely mid-tempo, and if you listen with it in the background, that’s where the album will stay – like most Guster releases, it isn’t grab-you-by-the-collar music. Even the most radio-ready stuff – whatever that means in 2010 – takes a few listens to really reveal itself. And some fans will doubtless be disappointed in this set’s lack of an epic Guster ballad along the lines of “Come Downstairs and Say Hello” or “Ruby Falls,” but these songs have a melodic urgency that seemed like it might be draining from their music. They aren’t exactly punchy, but they have an increased focus, and as densely woven as the arrangements can be, Easy Wonderful never feels busy – the fact that three of the tracks clock in under three minutes is a testament to the disciplined songwriting.

All in all, Easy Wonderful is Guster’s best, most emotionally resonant work since the wonderful Lost and Gone Forever. It has a problem, though, and it’s a major one: vocalist Ryan Miller hogs the spotlight here, leaving almost no room for Adam Gardner, whose harmonies (and occasional leads) were one of the best things about the band’s sound. Miller’s a fine singer, and his keening voice is perfect for the band’s earnest, hopeful music, but it just doesn’t feel like Guster without that vocal blend. The world already has one Hall & Oates, guys – if you hang in long enough for another album, make sure you share the mic more often. (Aware 2010)

Guster MySpace page

Morcheeba: Blood Like Lemonade


RIYL: Zero 7, Sade, Wire Daisies

It might feel like an eternity since lead singer Skye Edwards left Morcheeba (2003), leaving the brothers Godfrey to experiment on a couple of albums with different guest vocalists. But with Morcheeba’s latest, Blood Like Lemonade, Edwards has returned and it’s like the band hasn’t missed a beat – i.e., the reincarnation of Morcheeba as we knew it is back and better than ever. The trippy, bluesy electronica that put Morcheeba on the map is still mostly the same, but the songs on Blood Like Lemonade are slickly produced and, well, just damn good. Edwards’ voice is plain dreamy, and these songs are the perfect vehicle for that voice to shine. Most of the tracks are the band’s signature marriage of melody and electronica, as in “Crimson,” the title track and “Recipe For Disaster.”

But there are interesting tracks on here that bring Blood Like Lemonade to another level. The acoustic-guitar-with-beat-infused “Even Though”; the stunning guitar/vocal “I Am the Spring”; and the powerful closing anthem “Beat of the Drum.” Oh, and there’s also the uber-funky pseudo-instrumental, “Cut to the Bass,” which is probably best enjoyed in a very loud, dark, club. If you were already a fan or Morcheeba, you won’t find much wrong with this effort – if you weren’t, it’s the kind of genre-defying albums that just about anyone will like. (Pias America 2010)

Morcheeba MySpace page

Morcheeba MySpace Page

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