RIYL: Joni Mitchell, Norah Jones, Ricki Lee Jones
Over the course of her career, Erin McKeown has consistently demonstrated an ability to transcend typical singer/songwriter fare with music that’s rich in both imagery and imagination. Unlike those contemporaries who dwell strictly on circumspect, McKeown creates a sound that’s unfailingly vibrant and revealing.
Happily then, Hundreds of Lions proves no exception. After McKeown’s last album, Sing You Sinners, found her retracing jazz standards, it might be imagined she’s mow channeling Kurt Weill in her own suggestive sort of way. Presented with a theatrical flair, these songs give the impression that someday they might be Broadway-bound. Offering a mix of whimsy and panache, producer Sam Kassirer utilizes clarinets, flutes, sax, cello, violin and viola to enhance the jaunty, jovial feel. In fact, “Santa Cruz,” “All The Time You Missed,” “The Rascal” and “The Foxes” come across as so exceedingly infectious, they make repeated listens almost seem mandatory. Even in the more pensive moments – “You Sailor” being the most obvious example – McKeown remains completely captivating, a songstress whose skill and finesse finds her at the peak of her prowess. (Righteous Babe 2009)
They’ve been feted in countless compilations, but Daryl Hall and John Oates have never received the deluxe box set treatment until now – which seems odd, considering they’re the top-selling duo of all time. The cumbersomely named Do What You Want, Be What You Are: The Music of Daryl Hall John Oates has been in the works for over a decade, tumbling to Legacy when Sony merged with BMG a few years ago, and for once, a corporate mega-merger bears a little artistic fruit; just about everything the duo has done, from pre-H&O recordings with the Masters and the Temptones through their early Atlantic years as a folk/rock act and on into their most recent incarnation as a slick adult contemporary object of Yacht Rock hipster fetishism, is here. The hits are present and accounted for, of course, which is actually what puts a hiccup in Do What You Want’s stride: Is there a Hall and Oates fan on Earth who doesn’t already have at least one of their best-of compilations? Is there any such thing as a “casual” fan of the duo that’s willing to drop coin on a four-disc box? This set tries to play to both groups, lumping in Hall and Oates’ amazing streak of hits alongside a smattering of deep cuts, live performances, and demos. It’s a pleasantly full-figured portrait of their work, but it has the nasty side effect of rendering Disc Three essentially worthless (or, at the very least, utterly redundant) for the hardcore fans who have been waiting for this collection.
