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The two projects captured here are similar, in that both are guitar/vocal only and feature queer grrrls.
Tami's numbers, "The Kids Who Call Us Clowns" and "The Book", are basic, simply strummed but catchy, sung with bluesy conviction, invested with wisdom about being an outsider without being destroyed.
Rubeo's selections, "Speak Friday" and "Five Minutes Past" are more intricate, with multiple, interweaving guitars and vocals, but no less direct and affecting, if poetic in lyrical bent.
This is a nice cross-section of mostly acoustic dyke pop, and proof that Kaia's disciples and 'daughters' are on their way...
Despite growing up in the 70s and 80s, I never owned a picture disk, so I figured I would take a chance on this one.
The luscious Miss Guy and "her" rough-looking band grace the record's surface in lurid, lush colours.
Musically, sad to say, it's not my thing. It's slightly punky metal a la Motley Crue or Poison, and not well recorded or produced (though picture disks suffer from poor sound, I'm told). The A-side is chugga-chugga thrashy stuff, made vaguely amusing by the siren that runs through it a la "One Way or Another" by Blondie. The B-side selections, "Hard" and "Be A Man", are more appealing, with the first's call-and-response vocals and the latter's blistering sarcasm as points of recommendation.
Still, it might be fun to see this outfit live, if only to see jocks' reaction when they realize that Miss Guy has something in common, if likely larger, with them ("her" voice would be a dead giveaway).
The sleeve of this record alone attracted me, with the rugby player on the front. Sad but true...it was always one of the few sports I watched, though not for the game itself.
The Travoltas are from the Netherlands, and do a tasty slice Ramonesy/Beach Boys pop, with big harmonies and hooks, called "I Want To Believe". The Ramones connection is solidified by the fact that that late outfit's Marky produced it.
Tuuli are from Canada, near Toronto, and do a pretty, ethereal number, with a repetitive, haunting riff, entitled "spf 5 Million". I don't know if the Jim Shaw credited as producer is the guy from the Cranes, but this does have the disturbing gentleness associated with that band. Oh, Tuuli also are an all-girl band, and are about to release a CD-EP as well...watch for it...I know I will...
Bob MacKenzie has been a writer and musician in my town for some time, with his outfit Poeme de Terre (for the French-impaired, it's a pun on 'potato') Now he has issued a CD with guests from the local music community on vocals and instrumentation, and it's a veritable variety show.
There's everything here, from a reggae lilt to spoken word over delicate keyboards to rootsy rock to country, all graced with Bob's words of wisdom and wit and occasional melancholy, and the tracks with female vocalists are especially affecting and moving.
If you live in Canada, you should be able to obtain this through the auspices of an HMV outlet near you (much as I generally dislike plugging chain stores).
Kaia, Melissa and Allison return with the follow up to "Are We Not Femme?", and produce a more varied and even more rocking disc.
The production, by Chris Stamey (a boy!! Ick!!!) of dB's fame, is sympathetic and contoured, without being pushy.
Song-for-song, it's stronger than the debut, which seemed shaky arrangement-wise (and too short). Numbers such as "More Rock More Talk" exemplify the pointed, political garage-rock this outfit specializes and shines in, and they put their money where their words are ("We're for queer youth") by giving the record's cover over to dozens of actual queer youth!
There are some gentle moments here, such as 'Eleanor' and 'Gertrude and Stein', where keyboards and even strings are allowed to shine. For the most part, though, it's "loud basement rock", as the liner notes say.
This is not quiet - this will not shut up - this rocks like nobody's business, and testifies like everybody's coolest, most articulate friend...essential stuff...
Canada's answer to Ani DiFranco is back, with an album guaranteed to make her poor (to explain, there is a reference in the lyrics to one song, quoting from a review, to how eclectic Ember's music is - sadly, radio on all levels doesn't do well with the difficult-to-pigeonhole, which leads to low play and sales).
Still, if you've seen her live, you'd know that she is in this for love and communication and because she needs to express herself (it would be naive to say that being able to survive and/or thrive is not on the plate either, but, I mean, doing indie folk-jazz-classical-rock is not the route to a fortune... if it were, Britney Spears might actually do good music...).
Accompanied by the fabulous Lyndell Montgomery on bass/violin and the neato Cheryl Reid on drums (embarrassing story - I saw Ember live back in June, and thought her drummer was a boy, and a cute one at that), Ember kicks out the jams ferociously ('Quickly'), only to surprise you with a sudden burst of incredible vocal beauty, or even ribald humour ('Cheap Drunk' comes to mind)..
This record tosses in surprises, like a guest pianist, multiple trombones and some electronics, but it's not Mambo #6 (wasn't #5 ENOUGH!?) or even an emulation of Ani's experimental moments. It's a fabulous listen whose lyrics will gradually sink in and make you think as you're grooving to the tunes...
This outfit has existed since 1995, and worked on this debut album for two years.
The name? Though it is perhaps controversy/hype to draw attention, there are two queer members - the lead singer and the dyke lead guitarist. It is somewhat reflected in the lyrics of songs like "Pathfinder", where a girl is referred to as 'wearing the shirt that says who I am' - but it is not a 'gay' record as such, and the 'Oh Jim' here is not the queer Lou Reed classic, though it is not without innuendo.
If Elastica paid homage to 70s pop-punk, then Gay Dad delves into Roxy Music, T-Rex, a bit of John Lennon and even German electronics, thus visiting a different but vital area of 70s inspiration.
Songs like "Joy" and "To Earth With Love" rock out with handclaps, fuzz-tone and burbling bass, and Mr. Jones, the lead singer (who wrote for NME), has a Marc Bolanesque lisp/yowl of a voice.
But then there are oddities like "Dim Star", which is full of Eno-like synth noises and orchestration, so it's not all a glam-rock show.
In the final analysis, it's not very original or deep...but it's a diverting listen.
This band consists of Robyn, the former guitarist from cub, and Dustin, ex-drummer of Pansy Division, and someone named Brian on bass who has probably done something musical before.
Do not make assumptions, however!! This is NOT power-pop-punk; it is, instead, industrial-lite, with occasional touches of the grandiosely electronic.
Robyn and Dustin both play synths (with Dustin on drums too) and Brian doubles on computers.
Two of the tracks here have lyrics credited on their website - I didn't remember words, so I went back. The vocals are EXTREMELY buried and processed - they'd be very easy to miss, and they're not all that missable, truth be told.
Still, the drumming is splendid, as I expected, and the electronics are fun and a little cute. It was not at all what I expected, somehow, but it's an entertaining and very tuneful listen.
This is the first release on Ani DiFranco's label to have no input from her, and gives one of the veterans of world/experimental fusion a chance to issue another recording.
Arto, a singer/guitarist, has been around since the late 70s, fusing funk, punk, avant-garde and world music into a tasty package.
This is no exception, if more laid-back than his usual fare. Several selections are even in Spanish (since he grew up in Brazil, that is not too surprising).
While there is a Latin feel to the material, it is not the Ricky Martin variety, but a subtle and contemplative approach.
All in all, soothing music, and, if the lyrics are not always as sedate, it should be noted that Arto's voice is low-key. If you feel so inclined, you might be able to tune him out - but you shouldn't...
What can one say about a 3-CD set? For starters, it should be pointed out that each CD can be obtained separately - but that it would be cheaper, if possible, to get it in this format, because you then get the booklet where the songs are discussed and commented on by the writer himself, Mr. Stephin Merritt.
Stephin is arguably one of the best classic songwriters working today, and is even a fag to boot (Cole Porter, roll over...). By 'classic', I mean that he labours very hard over his songs and recordings (since he is a multi-instrumentalist, he often does it all himself - even silly toss-offs here like 'Punk Rock Love' or 'Experimental Music Love' were clearly sweated out by anyone else's standards...).
Here, we are subjected to a veritable sampler of his material, veering from country ('The One You Really Love', 'A Chicken With Its Head Cut Off') to big Spector production numbers ('When My Boy Walks Down The Street', 'I'm Sorry That I Love You') to folk ('The Cactus Where Your Heart Should Be', 'Reno Dakota') to quirky synth pop ('Fido Your Leash Is Too Long') to aching ballads ('All My Little Words', 'The Book of Love') - but, wait, there's more...
The assistance of the lovely Claudia Gonson, L.D. Beghtol, Shirley Simms and Dudley Klute on guest vocals (six songs each) give Merritt's Leonard-Cohen-with-a-wink voice a break, and allow us to consider his material from different angles.
And, yes, the title is an intentional joke...so get your juvenile giggles out of the way before you sit down to listen and fall in love...
If you want to play spot-the-influence, it's easy, if unfair, with this outfit. The noise/pop interplay is from the Pixies; the slightly unorthodox but catchy arrangements suggest XTC; the oddball lyrics could spring from They Might Be Giants. But that game grows wearisome, and no-one can win, so let's drop it...
This outfit (Greg Giles on vocals/acoustic guitar; Kelly Atkins on vocals/keyboards; Joe Ostrowski on electric guitar; James Costello Kingsbury on bass; Tai Kenning on drums) do quirky pop-rock with abrupt rhythm and melody shifts which, nevertheless, seem to be natural.
The first song, "She Hated Dogs", is doubtless the one that got the Pixies tag attached, since it begins with woozy feedback, has that yowling Kim Deal/Black Francis duet effect, and builds a stuttering swing to the rhythm section, while the guitars scratch and pound. The fact that much of the material consists of duets between Kelly and Greg would only solidify that comparison (hmmm... John Doe and Exene - Tammy and George - Loretta and Conway - the mind boggles at the opportunities for other archetypes...).
However, other material like "Aeroflot" or "Face Like A Horse" is more unique to the band's own vision, which is clearly about challenging pop formats without snapping them in two.
For a demo, the sound here is extraordinary, with production by Chris Manning, late of Jellyfish (am I the only person who remembers Jellyfish? They were, like 20 Minute Loop, a slightly quirky pop band, if a little more conventional...).
Good, rocking, intelligent material - a multi album deal with Dreamworks must be looming (then again, considering they don't know how to sell Elliot Smith, that may be a bad wish...).
A Bear after my own heart - that is, if the Otter currently occupying it were to move on (I certainly won't be kicking him out).
This CD is full of sweet, gentle songs, sung in Ray's (aka MusicBear) lovely, silky voice, mostly accompanied by guitar, with occasional strings and mandolin tossed in (the one song, "Mantronic", with a 'rock' backing doesn't work well to my ear - though the gently swaggering 'Red Hot Fire', an ode to a drag queen, is very bluesy and sexy).
Song after song, beginning with "Music Makes A Man of Me" (I can relate, brother Bear), tugs at the heart - particularly numbers like 'The Magic Isn't There' or 'Dream On'.
It is NOT a uniformly sad collection, but it is certainly pensive and emotional - this is not the work of some butch ol' Bear trying to be 'hard' (emotionally - out of the gutter, okay? - the rats need the space :) ).
For those romantic moments - which is why I'm glad my Otter will be back home from San Francisco soon... there is much snuggling to be done...
Music history (the HIS being the operative term here) is littered here and there with forgotten or neglected female bands. Collections like 'Girls In The Garage' redress some of this inequity, but they cannot contain everything.
Thus, when a project like this comes along, it is time to rejoice.
She were a California band that existed from 1966 to 1971, with numerous line-up changes along the way.
There was nothing cutesy about this bunch, at least nothing that rang true (one listen to flawed tracks like the forced jauntiness of 'Come On Along' or the sickly sweetness of 'Boy Little Boy' showed that they could not do 'soft and feminine' very well).
Like most female bands of the time, they had a hard time getting records out (though their own accounts suggest they did fairly well concert-wise). Though the liner notes are a bit shaky, it would seem that only one single got wide distribution (I get the feeling they had more, but it's hard to tell, since the text is a tad spotty). However, they recorded quite a lot, both as She and as the Hairem (sadly, many tracks by the latter are lost).
'Out of Reach' is not coy, almost literally bursting out of the speakers with its swirling organ and forceful vocals speaking of the need for 'the boy' to confirm 'if our dreams were meant to be' by answering 'Yeah!' (and what a 'Yeah!'). 'Like A Snake' is very Freudian and also blunt (there is no possibility that the sexual puns are unintended). 'Piece of You' is driven by complex drums and a guitar/piano riff that could catch fish, as well as further outspokenness (in the course of the song, the narrator is nearly raped (the word does not occur, but the subtext is very clear), sprayed with mace, jumped at, harassed from passing cars - but she is not meek, and fights back with an attitude). 'Bad Girl' has actual aggressive growling vocals and is, once more, very sexually blunt (and, though the narrator claims some degree of contrition for her 'sins', her tone suggests otherwise...). The one sentimental song that works well is 'You Made Me Feel Like Giving Up', and that is because, like the Luv'd Ones' work, the listener is encouraged to realize the boy is not a hapless victim of some hysterical female, as many similar songs of the time implied - he's a jerk and a user!
Now the bad news - if you're a Canadian like me, it's going to be very expensive to get this, since it's a British-only release - something like $40. If you can get to the States, it'd be about half that...go figure...
If you buy only one bad-girls-who-played-instruments 60s record, this should be the one... (but save for the Luv'd Ones' TRUTH GOTTA STAND as a tie for first).
Ronnie Spector, legendary Sixties singer with the Ronettes, and former wife of the abusive asshole genius (curse him for the last part!) Phil Spector, is back with her first material in ten years.
Evidently, her years with Phil, though she has mostly gotten past their horrific impact, have left her with deep insecurity about her voice and performing and recording.
Though her voice has dropped, it has an appealing husk and a vibrato that could shiver glass to pieces, and she can still 'whoa-oh-oh-oh' and 'oooh yeah' her way into your heart and soul like no-one's business.
This EP was produced by Joey Ramone, who gives her two Ramones songs, 'She Talks To Rainbows' (which suffers a little from the fact it was written from a male perspective, and thus has Ronnie seemingly lusting after a girl - not that there's anything wrong with that, but I believe she's essentially straight, and the lines thus come across a bit shaky...) and 'Bye Bye Baby' (it essentially WAS a Ronettes song, even when the Ramones did it, and adding her and an intro drum fill right out of 'Be My Baby' was genius - it even makes the song's four minute duration much more bearable than it was in the boys' rendition, especially when Ronnie sings over the dramatic key/tempo change in her inimitable style). Of the remaining songs, 'Don't Worry Baby', by Brian Wilson, seems vaguely ironic in her voice, though still touching; 'You Can't Put Your Arms Around A Memory' is evidently her second try at this Johnny Thunder composition, and it has years of heartbreak written all over it, giving Marianne Faithfull a run for the brave, scarred survivor nomination; and the final number, an actual Phil Spector piece that he evidently made her record an infinite number of times, then refused to release it, is entitled 'I Wish I Never Saw The Sunshine', and she occupies it and milks it for every ironic nuance, investing it with all of her history and experiences until it is nearly unbearably heavy with meaning.
20 glorious minutes...more, diva, more...
The title is apt, since the band is currently on hiatus while one member goes to graduate school.
However, in the absence of Team Dresch, this is THE poetic, hard-rocking, catchy-without-being-insipid dyke-rock band to listen to that isn't called the Butchies (ooooh, such qualifiers...).
Though it is still too short at 29 minutes, just like their debut, it is a captivating whirr of speed, with 'Projected Arrival' as a particular standout.
It's definitely more produced than their debut (though Donna Dresch did the honours for the second time), and Trish and Peyton trade off vocals, lead guitar and bass duties throughout (though their voices are similar to my ear).
Still, all told, pretty cool stuff, and I'm hoping to hear more from these grrrls in the future.
Another Kingston band, this one 'positive hardcore'.
Their lyrics ARE very positive for a hardcore band - and it was nice to hear a range of musical styles, from the funky chicken scratch guitar of 'Hold Your Ground' to the roiling tension of 'Pride' to an actual (sort of) love song 'She Left Me' (I'm hoping that line about looking for someone with bigger breasts to replace the girl who left was a sign the narrator is a bit shallow, rather than the writer...) to the comparatively gentle 'Hatred'.
I've yet to see them live - I'm almost afraid to, since bands break up after I see them, and I like what I hear on this tape. The bass playing by Dan Weisberg is really cool, and the guitar playing by John Converse has a neat cross of funkiness and fuzzy metallic riffs, while the two singers (one sort of chanted, and the other sounding vaguely British - perhaps it's an oi thing...) complement each other well. Nick Bishop's drumming is good too (sorry - I'm not a big noticer of drum sounds - I mean, my favourite drummer is Maureen Tucker, and her style is minimal and sometimes inaudible on Velvet Underground records...).
Maybe I'll go in disguise...of course, when it comes to all-ages shows, my receding hairline and my age are a pretty good concealment...no-one ever guesses I'm going until I'm in... :)
Danny (guitar/vocals), Margaret (guitar/vocals) and Christine (drums) are back with their second album and first on Matador, following 1997's TASTY with In The Red, and continue their tradition of being one of the few all-girl bands with at least one boy in the mix.
This is more produced than TASTY (by the Rods, as opposed to Jon Spencer and John Collins last time around), with a wide range of guitar and drum sounds (still no cymbals in Christine's repertoire, though she uses tambourine on 'Best Friend Love').
Another difference is that Margaret sings most of the selections, whereas Danny did on the debut. She has a stronger voice, with a Joan Jett snarl, but Danny's high squeal has its appeal as well.
It's a short record (15 songs in 32 minutes), and has a guest saxophonist on 'U Look Good' and 'Feast' (adding to the funk of the former and the free-jazz of the latter).
Lyrically, it's much as their earlier material, focusing on sex and rock 'n' roll, and, musically, it's hard-edged metal/rockabilly/blues/garage/punk (though "Got A Little Lovin'" could be done by Marilyn Monroe as a sultry a capella number, and "Carry Me Away" is a welcome cousin of "Country Honk" and "Far Away Eyes" by the Rolling Stones). In other words, a marketing nightmare, and a music lover's dream. Along the way, the music brushes up against the Stooges, the Cramps, the Stones and even James Brown, but it's a fun, sexy ride, and well worth the trip.
More gentle, slow music - EEK!
Clearly, I am mellowing in my old age.
But Low is not easy listening - there's something a little creepy about them (one person I know proposes it's their Mormonism, which is evidently creeping into their lyrics - I don't know enough about Mormons to notice this, and I don't particularly care...I mean, I like their sound - their religion doesn't matter to me - it's not as though Minnesotan Mormons are likely to drop by my door any time soon...).
Steve Albini, er, recorded this (remember, he doesn't like the word 'produced'), and this has doubtless puzzled some, since he rarely does quiet music, and certainly not material like this where the drums (seemingly his favourite instrument, which is kind of ironic for someone whose biggest band had a drum machine as percussionist) are very gentle indeed (Mimi plays a snare and a cymbal, with brushes).
However, 'Don't Understand', which features a looped, repeating, strangulated guitar riff, has actual heavy drum thumps (by her standards) - and her percussion is, generally speaking, more adventurous on these disks.
The vocals are murmured - the bass hums along nicely - the guitars are very gently picked - but you will not fall asleep during this record. It is quietly compelling, and proof that you can be scary and engaging without being metallic and brash...
Ummm...this, on the other hand, IS music to fall asleep to.
I'll try to be nice. Laetitia Sadier and her crew here do their usual strings/organs/synths/horns/jazz shtick, which they have done for about three albums in a row. 'Come Play In The Milky Night', a side-long composition, will keep you awake, because its transitions were clearly done with tape editing, and the editor was using a jagged axe. Otherwise, it's all very pretty and soft and tastefully played and, frankly, boring.
However, an insomniac like me is grateful for such a service, so thanks for that, anyway...
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