Back
This semi-acoustic project by Michael Gira of Swans fame has been long delayed due to name complications (originally called the Pleasure Seekers, this name was vetoed by a letter from Seventies rock icon Suzi Quatro, who had a band by that name in the Sixties; then Angels of Light turned out to be the name of some charitable organization affiliated (as it turns out, without his permission) with Michael Jackson - an association one would not want...).
However, it was definitely worth the wait. It is downright beautiful, especially Michael's voice (not what I expected at all from a man who tends to drone down deep - I love the drone, mind you - at points here, it's virtually in a range I, with my high voice, can hit...here and there, he pushes it, but it's never too painful...vocally, anyway...).
There is a huge cast of 18 other musicians accompanying Michael (not necessarily all on every track), with instrumentation ranging from flugelhorn to synths to banjo to...well, it's really diverse.
This album is dedicated to Jarboe, his (possibly former?) female partner, and it is darkly romantic (and, here and there, disturbing - of course, judging from interviews I've read with her, she's not exactly a June-moon-spoon personality either, so she would likely find much of it very endearing...).
It sort of reminds me of the quieter, more orchestral moments of 'Berlin' by Lou Reed, except perhaps not as depressing.
If you like artists like Nick Drake, this would be your sort of thing. Me, I love...
A band more heard of than heard, the Avengers have been woefully neglected by history and discography alike. Because they only managed to release a couple of singles and an EP in their lifetime (and those under-available and, in frontwoman Penelope Houston's opinion, badly done), they have been all but invisible and inaudible for some time (the only album that gathers those original studio recordings is trapped in bankruptcy/inactive hell on another label).
This collection redresses some of that problem, though the quality here and there of the sound is sorely lacking. It collects live tracks, demos, rehearsals and a few re-recordings by a new line-up, dubbed the Scavengers, that did some touring.
The most famous song, if only because someone else recorded it (and I can't think of who right now), is 'The American in Me', which seems quite timely at the moment in how it points out that the 'threat' to American culture comes from within it, not some mysterious other (not kids in trenchcoats; not gays; not feminists; as Mick Jagger said in one of his few trenchant political analyses, 'Who killed the Kennedys? Of course it was you and me'.)
Penelope's harsh but penetrating voice and lyrics are the highlight of the collection, since, musically, the Avengers are fairly standard thrash-pop-punk (I mean, they're GOOD, but not strikingly original...).
The most interesting part of the packaging, which is kind of minimal, is the complete list of every gig the band played from 1977 to 1979. It's not surprising they barely recorded - they barely had a time period over those two years that they did NOT play somewhere, and, considering the people they opened for, it is downright baffling that they did not do better. However, here is a snapshot of their moment...treasure it...
Yes, it's on a major label. It's still good, and, besides, given the current perilous situation that Polygram labels are in, who knows what could happen?
Anyway, it is a collaboration between Elvis Costello (voice/lyrics) and Burt Bacharach (piano/music), and it is great material, worthy of Bacharach's output in the Sixties and Seventies (his groundbreaking writing for the likes of Dionne Warwick (for God's sake, someone make her some money so she can stop shilling for Psychic Enemies...) and Dusty Springfield (rest in peace, angel)).
Musically, it is the same over-the-top but wonderful sound of those classic Sixties records, rendered by great sessionmen plus strings, horns, female backup singers and the works). There are times Elvis' voice is strained painfully, but, for the most part, he is expressive and tender, on songs like 'Toledo' and 'God Give Me Strength'.
So I'm getting old...but I happened to find this laid-back CD enjoyable.
The Girl Bros are, in reality, Wendy (guitar/bass/drums/vox) and Lisa (keyboards/guitar/vox) of Prince fame.
In the late Eighties and mid Nineties, they released three albums that were, frankly, fair to middling. They tended to be either pale imitations of His style or quirky stuff that seemed self-consciously weird.
This is a lot better and, even though it is inspired by the death of Jonathan Melvoin, Wendy's brother, who was the keyboardist of Smashing Pumpkins at the time of his drug-related death, it is still a hopeful and inspired document, if not the most uplifting at times.
Wendy has a sort of Liz Phair/Caroline Azar (yes, yet another reference to Fifth Column...) voice, low and theatrical, while Lisa's is much higher and breathier (used to eerie effect on the nearly unrecognizable slow electronica cover of "I've Got No Strings" from Pinocchio (!) - at least, I think it's her voice...). If you're looking for multi-octave divas, this is not the place.
Since they are mentioned in the latest Advocate in a piece on gay and lesbian artists getting their work out on the 'Net, Wendy and Lisa cannot be entirely resistant to such an interpretation being placed on their work, although I have only heard rumours about Wendy. In that regard, Wendy's catchily rocking "If I Were Brave" and Lisa's vaguely jazzy "I've Got A Big Bowl of Cherries" could be read in a queer light.
It is a fairly diverse record, with the rock contingent well-served by "All Nite", the funk element by "Reaching One" and "Let's Say" and the ballad-lovers being blessed with "Jonathan" and "I Will".
There is little flashy instrumentation, since the accompaniment is meant to complement the songs rather than show off, but the playing is skilled and tasteful, particularly in the acoustic/electric guitar arrangement on "All Nite", and it is, overall, a nifty CD out of left field.
The Go-Betweens were a band from Australia (though they lived in Britain from 1982 to 1988) who existed from 1978 to 1990, with various line-ups, and put out a handful of wonderful albums from 1982 to 1989 that were criminally ignored.
This album gathers some of their very earliest material, featuring Robert Forster (guitar/vox), Grant McLennan (bass/vox) and Tim Mustapha (or is it Mustafa? the CD contains both spellings...)(drums), along with guests on piano/organ and guitar and a different drummer on their first single.
The most 'professional' recordings are their first two singles, 'Lee Remick/Karen' (the first being a very hooky tribute to the actress, and the latter a somewhat clumsy ode to the title character that is marred by the static drums and the obvious Velvet Underground influence - I like Velvet Underground influences, but not when it crosses the line into outright imitation...), 'People Say/Don't Let Him Come Back' have a clear Dylan influence, in a good way this time. 'The Sound of Rain' was originally to be their second single, but it was cancelled. While it is a very elegant and creepy song, it is also controversial, since it is about someone stalking and killing his former girlfriend. I have no doubt that the author does not approve of the actions, but it is still a problematic piece.
The other eight songs here cannot be found anywhere else, and are bedroom recordings on two-track. The sound suffers here and there, but it is a very earnest collection of early work, and shows the direction forward. It is nowhere near as polished or ironic as the album material, but it is still charming, and a good insight into the minds of very isolated twenty-year-old men.
The world hardly needs another song about 'chemistry' in love, as the only false step in "Love Wasn't Made For You and Me" puts forward, but songs like "Help or Something", "Just Hang On" (disturbingly Cars-like, but I think that stems from similar influences in the Velvets, Dylan, Beatles and Zombies, rather than imitation) and "Obsession With You" are hooky and charming (the hooks are often in the bass, since Robert is not a particularly skilled guitarist, despite the occasional clever rhythm fill), and the drumming, while perhaps a bit busy, is very proficient.
Later lineups would certainly produce songs more intellectually stimulating, intricately arranged and certainly better recorded, but none were quite as naked, endearing and revealing.
This is, however, a record largely for the already converted, since I would suggest that a novice try one of the proper studio albums first, and then come back to this and see where it all started.
It's been a while since I've practiced blatant nepotism, so here goes...
This is a CD done by Sam Scott, a friend of mine, to test out some new software for some company or other (no ads here - I'm sure he could tell you what they're called...ok, so I KNOW...but I'm not telling...). He didn't think it was very good - but, then, he never does, and I think he's brilliant (if it weren't for his pesky heterosexuality, I think he'd be PERFECT ;o) ).
It's electronic stuff, heavy with witty samples ranging from bonobo monkeys to preachers. I find it good to listen to in the morning to get me moving - it's not overtly dancey, except in moments, but it's perky and cooks...
Get a hold of him to find out how to get your own copy...it's worth your ears...:)
This band, consisting of: Mick Brown on vocals; Curtis Stitch on lead guitar; Lorne Behrman on rhythm guitar; Damian Branica on bass and James Baggs on drums (though the CD features one Todd Gove on rhythm guitars) does sort of Clash/Ramones thrash pop - fast and furious and catchy as all heck. The use of Daniel Rey (a producer of later Ramones stuff) was an inspired choice, since he gets a hard but enjoyable sound from the group.
It's definitely not a straight-edge sort of band, judging from party anthems like "Naked A", "Down The Drain", "Jungle Man", "ID" and "Drink Some More" - though the songs aren't necessarily uncritical of the play-hard lifestyle.
It's fairly gritty material, both lyrically and musically, though "Rustic City" and "Another Let Down" have a kind of wounded romanticism to them (neither is exactly a ballad).
The vocals are a bit reminiscent of Joey Ramone, with that snotty but appealing quality that I tend to like in a punk singer (oh, heck, in men in general *grin*).
There is, in fact, a road song on here, which would generally make me cringe, but "Unload Reload" at least concludes with a lyric about 'new laws to break with every new state', which made me smile and forgive them this horrible cliche.
And, for that ever-so-important political song, the boys stick it to Rudy Giuliani, the clean-up mayor of NYC (dirty hands make light work, huh, Giuls?), with "NYC Is Dead", skewering that petty dictator's anti-punk, anti-poor (not to be confused with anti-poverty, since he sure as hell isn't interested in actually fixing THAT problem) campaign.
Though I fear I may be getting a bit old to actually go out and slam-dance at crusty punk shows (I occasionally go to all-ages events, and they just make me feel ancient...), I would put this CD on in my room and pogo a little bit any day. Neat, catchy stuff...
Warning - you must be at least as Red as me to take this ride!
Utah Phillips is quite a guy. A 64 year old card-carrying member of the International Workers of the World; an anarchist; a labour activist; a songwriter; a storyteller; a guitarist; all this and a big ol' cuddlebear too! I think I'm in love...
Ani DiFranco surely needs less of an introduction. She produced this live record, played guitar and percussion on it, does some vocalizing, and put together the marvelous band that backs Utah so sympathetically and perfectly.
The liner notes to this CD are by Howard Zinn, who wrote "A People's History of the United States", a book which I'm told is quite marvelous and which I should look into (and someone should write a Canadian equivalent - perhaps it will have to be me some day...).
The CD is a wonderful primer on the likes of Mother Jones, the 19th century mining/labour activist, and other anarchist/resistance movements - but it is very listenable too. Utah's voice is not the most conventionally pleasant, but has great character and drama to it.
If you want a radical CD that is, nevertheless, a hoot and a holler and an education all at once, this is your definite first stop.
The mystery quartet from San Francisco return with an album of Bible stories. Hallelujah?
Er...not quite. No, no - it's good. It's got their best production and drum programming ever, and the lyrics are narrative, which is not too frequent for this bunch. The summaries of the stories that precede the lyrics are helpful, and occasionally revealing (oh, the things that were omitted in Sunday School!).
I suppose I expected something else. It's easily their most listenable disc, so, if I had to introduce someone to their sound and some of their lyrical approach, this would be a good starting point.
However, it's a little boring and almost too smooth. Besides, the little explanatory note under the CD holder seemed heavy-handed and almost as though the legal department asked the group to cover its, er, eyeballs. I was hardly expecting reverence from the Residents. The point about how people use the Bible as a weapon to oppress others, and how it can be a dark and ominous volume, could hardly have been news...
So, I mean, it's acceptable, sometimes funny, and downright funky at times. It's just somehow more bland than I had hoped...
I wish I were older (not a phrase I say often, I'll grant you). Then I could REALLY remember Dusty Springfield.
Of course, I know the hits, mostly 'I Only Want to Be With You' (chiefly from the Tourists' cover) and 'I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself' (Elvis Costello cover) and 'Son of A Preacher Man' (a large number of bad country covers, and even my Arne knows it from a Danish parody that makes him 'the only boy who could ever feed me - the son of a pizza man'), and have certainly heard the originals as well. And there was her duet with the Pet Shop Boys, which, being a good fag, I have heard and enjoyed... I remember seeing her on a Rough Trade concert video (as it turns out, she was Carole Pope's girlfriend at the time, as a surprisingly good ADVOCATE article reveals).
I wish the Rock and Roll Hall of Lame (Moe Tucker's less-than-affectionate name for that institution) had recognized her earlier, as it could have done from 1988 on, rather than, once again, honouring someone who was dead!
This collection is a marvelous introduction to all of her classics - "Wishin' and Hopin' " is, in its way, groundbreaking, since its message is that the girl should just go out there and get her man (or, let us read in code, woman), instead of moping around. Even when Dusty seems heartbroken, as on "I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself", she is a grande dame of heartbreak, and you know she'll get up and carry on. "A Brand New Me" has coded significance, since it was not too long after that that she started to come out in the press (early 1970s - take THAT, Melissa Etheridge...), and "You Don't Have to Say You Love Me" is also a document of sexual liberation (I defy you to find too many other songs from the early 60s that suggested a girl could have that attitude towards sex and love - possibly "You Don't Own Me", but that was mildly undercut by Lesley Gore's slightly meek delivery and the overproduction, if still powerful...(ironic update: as it happens, Dusty did a version of this too (in fact, I just found a rather sleazy, exploitative looking-record in a local used shop which has that rendition on it); Lesley wrote an obituary for Dusty; AND Lesley is also, er, sensibly shoed...the things I find out when I ask those in the know...thanks, GB Jones! *grin*).
"Goin' Back" is painful to listen to now, unfortunately, just as "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen is, because one hears it and thinks of the recent passing while 'reading' the lyrics - but it is still a powerful, almost Walt Whitmanesque like survey of surviving a tumultuous life and the lessons learned on the way.
As an intrepreter, she was unparalleled and without peer (she did not write, though she had a frequently uncredited hand in production, but she may as well have, since she, or at least a character she projected, is ALL OVER THE SONGS).
This 20-song sampler is brilliant stuff, and the amazing part is that these selections all date from a roughly seven-year period - works that sound like the product of a long, hard, but exhilirating life.
And so, in a way, she lives on...
More elegant music for a quiet romantic evening.
David Sylvian was in Japan, a band that gradually evolved from New York Dolls glam rock to a soothing Roxy Musicish purr.
There's no aggression here, but it kicks more than most of his recent work ("God Man" has a funky beat).
Still, his warm, low voice is eerily sensual, and the music is full of strings, horns, delicate percussion and humming, whirring guitars, lending the project a 'make-out music' ambience that is irresistible.
So I'm mellowing with the passing of time - I think it's important to be open to a range of experiences...and this I like...
Kraftwerk were deadpan. The Residents used disguises. Combine the two, and you get Telex, a Belgian trio who did electronic music from 1978 to 1986 that made disco acceptable and simultaneously serious and campy.
This collects 20 of their classics, including covers of 'Dance To The Music' (Sly Stone) and 'Rock Around The Clock' (Bill Haley) that simply must be heard to be believed, laughed at and adored.
There are two volumes of remixes out, under the name 'I Don't Like Music' (one of their songs) but, then, as the title here says, 'I Don't Like Remixes'.
If you want something a little silly, but still musical and complex, this is your choice.
This is a 23-track collection of bands that are from, went to, or are otherwise affiliated with Berkeley High School in California (the town my boyfriend is probably going to this fall, as it happens), put together by senior students Josh Carman and Heath Friedland.
The most famous alumni of this school include Fifteen, Pinhead Gunpowder (which featured a future member of Green Day), and Engine 88, and they all contribute punk-poppish tracks.
BUT that is not the only sound here (I must confess to being surprised at that, narrow-minded that I am - but, hey! I think of Berkeley and punk-pop comes to mind...). There's electronica (The Full House's "How Comet Got His Grove Back", among others); a little ska (the Skam, "Do The Ska"); a folky number or two (Charles Kratz' cover of "Jimmy Brown the Newsboy" - a teacher!? how uncool... ;o) ; Savanna's "One Eyed Spy"); and so much more.
I'd have to say this is easily the best high school compilation I've heard (let's just say that when I was in high school, a band from my school and one from another school put out a split single as a prize for winning an anti-drunk-driving contest, and, had the expression existed then, we would have said that it bit - but this does NOT, by any stretch...).
Another deep sensual voice, and further evidence that I am becoming too mellow for my own good in my dotage.
This is an album of songs either by or made famous by Miles Davis, with words added by Ms. Wilson, who has finally decided to produce herself on her own, and it is about time, since she clearly has good instincts, based on her arrangements and compositions. Of course,they're not her lyrics in the case of 'Time After Time' and 'Some Day My Prince Will Come' (yes, Miles Davis covered both of those...).
Cassandra is no traditional jazz singer, since she uses such things as violin, slide guitars and exotic percussion to get her music across; however, she has bits of Sarah Vaughan or Ella Fitzgerald or Billie Holliday in her style, without really sounding like any of them.
One track virtually rocks, which is quite rare for a woman who, judging from her work, takes it slow and easy and bluesy - but it still works.
Just delicious...it's too marvelous for words... :)
Well, it's drag queen opera! Oh, goodie...
Seriously, it's quite fun and entertaining. Good ol' Larry-bob of Holy Titclamps 'zine fame plays piano on two of the tracks (a cover of Hell's Bells by AC/DC and an operatic aria (found in the classic film DIVA, though not in THIS rendition) entitled "Ebben, n'andro lontana" (which, according to the ever-so-useful Babelfish, means "Well, Don't Go Far")), and he's quite skilled (oh, boy - ANOTHER piano-playing fag... ;o) ), while those tracks and the other two are accompanied by the superb bowed bass of Eli Crews.
The other two tracks are "Jump" by Van Halen (or Aztec Camera) and "Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?" by Culture Club.
As you might guess, this is not particularly conventional opera. The Lady Godiva perhaps pushes her range more than might be tasteful - but, personally, I think that's a good thing - the world needs more pushy queens!
Cat Power is the alias of Chan Marshall (guitar/vocals/piano), a Georgia-based singer-songwriter who makes the members of Eric's Trip (a late and very shy Canadian band) seem positively extroverted.
Numerous media reports indicate that she frequently thinks she should just quit music altogether; when one considers that her publishing company is called 'Dreading Futures', you must at least acknowledge that there is some ambivalence about life at work here.
This is an exceptionally beautiful, but by no means bright, sunny or reassuring, record. Heavy on flute, guitar and piano (though drums occasionally take the forefront), it has a sort of PJ Harvey or Mary Margaret O'Hara at their most despondent feel to it.
Definitely not a platter to listen to when you are feeling extremely down, but a good one to cry to or at least experience raw emotion to.
I'd seen this band's T-shirt on the cover of a Half Japanese album. I'd heard about their song 'Meet The Creeper', about Rondo Hatton, a Forties actor who looked very sinister and distorted without makeup. I'd seen a bit about them in PUNK. So, when I saw this EP, consisting of single tracks from 1976-79, I bit.
The band consisted of Niagara, a woman, on vocals; Ron Asheton of the Stooges on guitar; Mike Davis of the MC5 on bass; and Rob King on drums (they evidently still exist, periodically, to this day, but this is all old material), and did rather Stooges/MC5 like material (i.e. Detroit dirty rock).
Niagara sounds like the bastard child of Kim Gordon and Debbie Harry, either purring or deadpan-speak-shout-singing alternately. The boys provide a competent garage-rock backing, occasionally aided by some wild sax or extra guitar, and even get to sing a sort of ripped-up remodel of "Summertime Blues" entitled "Goin' to Lose".
"November 22, 1963" would be a favourite of Kennedy conspiracy theorists, while "Bored" and "You're Gonna Die" sound like Iggy Pop dressed up as Debbie Harry, and "Nobody Knows" is a definite influence on Kim Gordon.
A neat little artifact - nothing you'd die without, but a definitely interesting desert island...
This rivals Rebecca West's "Full Burners On" for minimal vinyl packaging, though at least that had SOME info included. It comes in a sturdy midnight blue cardboard sleeve, and all the info about songs, title, contact address, etc. is on the record's label. It's also a fairly hefty piece of vinyl, if that matters.
Ninety Nine is, essentially, Australian Laura MacFarlane, formerly of Sleater Kinney (best not to go there - let us just say that, at best, the other members of that formation evidently have a hard time directly letting anyone know they're no longer in the band), who released another solo CD about two years ago. In theory, there is a band now, though, to me, it still sounds like the essentially one-woman guitar/drums/viola/percussion/keyboards project that the debut album was.
Since I have no cover art to comment on, or liner notes, or a lyric sheet, I will have to (gasp!) focus on the music.
There are 15 songs in roughly 38 minutes here, though 2 of the tracks are some rather bad comedian/crowd-warmer-upper from a sporting event, it would appear. Whatever...
The first track, "Woekenender", begins with that quirky Casio rhythm ping made famous by Trio's "Da Da Da", though aggressive guitar, bass, and impassioned vocals come charging in to (mostly) drown it out. "Car Song" has high, vibrato organ and xylophone and is far too short. Then the unfunny guy... "Manga Girl Cut" has a churning, noisy rhythm guitar drive, and is one of many tracks where I wish the vocals were louder or I had a lyric sheet, since the only lyric I could really hear was "Don't feel like talking - you speak like 1984", which was intriguing. "Gamelan" has some intriguing, clanging percussion, matched by an equally clangy, Sonic Youthish guitar. "International Mario" starts with odd percussion, a squealing sound that may be a viola, and then mutates into a brisk Team Dresch pop song. "Dorsal" has a very heavy, dark bass sound, xylophone, melodica, and some pretty guitar harmonics at the end. That's side one...
Side two starts with "Aztec", that has a sprightly programmed beat, an organ drone, plaintive vocals, some little keyboard riffs that attach to one's brain, and a Stereolab feel, along with a line that nails how best to approach the singing/words on this record: 'Mark my word in an abstract way'. It's way too short, though! "Pavlov's Dog" has loud, discordant and jangling guitar, drums that are the only thing holding its chaotic structure together, and vocals that are REALLY buried. "1/2" has some nice guitar and bass harmonics, quietly brushed drums, and very sweet mournful singing whose words are STILL hard to pick out. "Aerophobia" has repetitive, multi-tracked, clashing guitar arpeggios, an organ drone, percussion that sounds like bottles and the most up-front vocals. It sounds as though it's about someone who is dying or ill, but I can't be sure. "Population 100 000" is clearly about Riot Grrrl and music (the lyrics actually refer to the approach of the middle 8 bars, as well as references to Hello Kitty, Thurston Moore, Sonic Youth, and possibly that rock school for grrrls in Australia). "Hawaii" does not have any ukulele; in fact, it is mostly percussion, including a very odd rhythm and time signature (9/4, perhaps?) and xylophone. "Experimental" is the longest track, with a chorus-pedal guitar, a repetitive bass line that may be played on guitar, and rather pretty singing, with no drums. And we end with that loser again...
All told, an intriguing record that doesn't sound like much of anything else out there, and certainly worth getting, though possibly not on vinyl. Surely the CD must have SOME information inside it...
This band was a contemporary of such 1970s doomed-to-fail types as Pere Ubu, the Mirrors, and the Electric Eels in Cleveland (yes, Pere Ubu continues, in one form or another, but they are very much isolated). Since the way that the compilation "Those Were Different Times" was set up made only non-representative tracks available from that early line-up, the news that the group had re-assembled was welcome news (though the only 'real' original member is Paul Marotta on piano/guitar, he wrote the material, so, while it's unfortunate that none of the others are on it, the incestuous nature of the Cleveland scene then meant there was constant turn-over anyway).
This is a sort of moody record, sung by Mike Hudson of the Pagans, and it's not too upbeat, either musically or lyrically, but it's hypnotic and pulsing and, surprisingly, very tuneful, a little reminiscent of some Guided by Voices, and the cover of 'Venus in Furs' is magical.
Not something you'd want to play on a bright sunny day, unless you HATE bright sunny days - but definitely a nighttime record when you're feeling just a little lonely.
It's on really pink vinyl. Not that that MATTERS - but it's pretty cool.
Spike (vocals); Kanako (guitar/vocals); Tomoko (bass/vocals/guitar) and Shoe (drums) are a female garage rock quartet from Tokyo, and combine the sheer drive and primitiveness of the 5678s with Shonen Knife's melodic and hook sense (I'm sure they just adore the comparisons, too, but it's what came to mind...).
These 19 rather brief songs (it's not a double album) are chockfull of attitude and humour and energy (I think - sometimes the self-production and delivery make it hard to get the words) and just bring a smile to my face.
There's sort of a Side A/Side B split, just like on the Original Sins' classic 'Big Soul' LP. Side A rocks out hard in a melodic way. Side B is cruder - there are still great big tunes, but the riffs are rougher and the singing more aggressive.
If you're fond of garagey material like the Ramones or the Pandoras, this is the pink wax for you. I think it's fabulous, myself...
Tom's first album in six years, and his first on an indie label (he evidently has a one-album deal, but, judging from this, he should continue...), is a lot of the same (though more the 'same' of his Seventies stuff than the Eighties) and a little of the different.
Lyrically and musically, it continues in his wounded romantic vein, with music rooted in the blues, jazz and even a little funk ("Big In Japan", the track that sounds most like his Eighties and Nineties Island Records output).
However, he's added a few modern touches (a little 'programming' and some turntables, though I can't really hear anything stereotypically sequenced-sounding and the turntables are only highly noticeable on the chaotic jam of "Filipino Box Spring Hog"), and his romantic songs are more sentimental and untroubled by dramatic irony. Case in point - while the gorgeous 'Georgia Lee' sounds a lot like 'A Little Rain' from BONE MACHINE (1992), one does not get the sense here, as one did on the latter, that the mournful narrator is also the murderer. 'House Where Nobody Lives' is virtually greeting-card country for Tom (who, though he evidently lives a peaceful rural existence with his wife and children, has not generally painted a happy picture of domesticity in the past...). 'Take It With Me' sounds as though he quit smoking in order to get back the slightly husky purr he could achieve in the Seventies, but which has eluded him through recent history (to the novice, I suppose I should warn you that Tom's voice is 'special'...a gruff howl, in general...).
This is not to say Tom has become entirely a softy. 'What's He Building?' is a bizarre spoken-word short story set to minimal music, about someone who may be, at the very best, eccentric. And then there's 'Come On Up To The House' - Tom has done gospel before, as on 'Jesus Gonna Be Here' from BONE MACHINE, but it always sounds disturbing, and this one is no exception. Perhaps his attempts at gospel whooping-and-hollering are limited by his vocal abilities, but they always have a Branch Davidian/Jerry Falwell quality to them that suggest intense sarcasm.
And there's always his demented wit. The title character of "Eyeball Kid" is given the exact same birthday as Tom (December 7, 1949), and one is compelled to wonder if its comments on voyeurism and the fine line between admiration and obsession are meant to be viewed with that in mind, given Tom's relative reclusiveness.
All told, another wonderful album by just about the only person who could win a Grammy for 'alternative' music (he did, in 1992) and deserve it, because there's no-one who sounds or writes quite like him.
Back
