Music

Music

Old 97’s – Mimeograph

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I love me some Old 97’s. I remember hearing their album Too Far To Care at a CD Warehouse when I was in college (man, do I love me some CD Warehouse! Used CDs, and you could find all sorts of crazy stuff that people would bring in and trade. And also fifty copies of any given Backstreet Boys album. That wasn’t so great, but it was funny), and I was just hooked. They always sounded like they were just on the verge of falling apart completely; the skittering drums, the half-shouted vocals, the blistering guitar work…these guys made having an emotional breakdown sound like fun.

Their albums since then have been, for me at least, a series of diminishing returns. Sure, Fight Songs, Satellite Rides, and Drag It Up all had some solid tunes and the good generally outweighed the bad, but each successive album smoothed away the rough edges, and Blame It On The Gravity just went for straight power pop with no rough edges (and missed the mark considerably, if you ask me).

Then I see Mimeograph, a four-song EP featuring covers of classic rock songs. The very idea sounds winning and engaging, and I’m thinking maybe they used this to cut loose and really have fun. But I guess the title (a reference to an old copy machine-type thing, for those of you who’re, y’know, young and don’t know how to use the internet to find things out) should have been a dead giveaway: these are raucous alt-country versions of classic rock songs, these are almost exact duplicates of classic rock songs performed with expertise and precision by a band that used to be much more fun.

It starts out with a cover of the Rolling Stones’ “Rocks Off,” the four-on-the-floor rocker that kicked off Exile on Main Street. And…well, it sounds exactly the same, except Rhett Miller is singing. They stay so true to the original, they even keep the same vocal effects in the bridge. It’s sad. This could have been so much better; they could have reinterpreted it into something new rather than an exact duplicate of the original.

It doesn’t get any better from there. Sure, these four tracks are played well, and the band clearly enjoys the music they are paying homage to, and they are definitely better musicians than they were in the Too Far To Care days, but I really do feel this was a missed opportunity to recapture some of the energy and vitality of their earlier albums. Their cover of the Fratellis’ (the newest song here) “For the Girl” doesn’t add anything new, nor do their covers of REM’s “Driver 8” or David Bowie’s “5 Years.”

Ultimately, Mimeograph is something of a disappointment. I guess had I not gone in with expectations about what this could have been, I would have enjoyed it: after all, these covers are competently done and well-played, even if the arrangements are too safe and predictable. Maybe next time, we’ll get some of the energy and rough edges of their early stuff.

Despatches From The Homeland

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Woody Guthrie has a mural. Woody Guthrie has a folk festival. Do YOU have a mural or a folk festival?A week into my trip back to the homeland (known to others as “Oklahoma” or “that hellish place from whence you came”), and I’m having a blast. Friday was spent at the Woody Guthrie Free Folk Festival in Okemah, Oklahoma. Talk about a lot of fun: free concerts by names big and small, bluegrass and folk and Americana surrounding you, and kind, friendly folks all around…but the real draw is the pickin’ circles they hold at the campgrounds every night: a dozen or more people gathered together with guitars, mandolins, banjos, upright bass, fiddles, and whatever else they can scrounge together just playing a song that someone in the circle calls out. It’s a freakin’ blast, man.

I’ve spent most of my time so far with each parent. This coming week is a visit to all the grandparents, getting fed more and better food than you can possibly imagine, and maybe a little golf. On top of all that, I found a copy of Bob Dylan’s Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid soundtrack for $5 last night. Good times.

The Gaslight Anthem – American Slang

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I have a soft spot in my heart for bands that wear their influences proudly. The Gaslight Anthem are definitely one of those bands – hell, it seems like one out of every four lines on their second album, The 59 Sound, was directly lifted from Springsteen. I’m definitely okay with anyone who honors the Boss, and you could obviously do much worse than using some of his lyrics, but I felt they needed move beyond that.

American Slang does just that: pushing forward, but looking backward. This isn’t just an album that trades in nostalgia, it’s an album about nostalgia. Many of the songs deal with the way we view the past through rose-colored glasses and bemoan the loss of some wasn’t-ever-really-real golden age. Most of the lyrics are written in the past tense, and everything from the song titles (“The Spirit of Jazz” and “We Did It When We Were Young” spring to mind) to the cultural references and touchstones (references to Sinatra and “old records”) seems to hearken back to a bygone era. The themes of the music aren’t anything new for the band – they’ve been trading on this nostalgia for the swingin’ ’50s New York City era since their inception – but they’ve perfected their Boss-meets-Sinatra balance of sincere and earnest street poet and street-smart, tough-as-nails backstreet kid.

Vocalist Brian Fallon is in strong form on the record, though he tries to reach beyond his range in a couple of noticeable places. His rough, everyman voice works well for these story songs, and the E Street Band circa The Wild, The Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle backing vocals are the perfect complement. Guitars alternately chime and growl, and the swinging, muted jabs on “The Diamond Church Street Choir” are perfect. The band tries some new sounds here, too, throwing in dub-inflected rhythms on “The Queen of Lower Chelsea.” This isn’t to say the band’s abandoned the driving, anthematic sound that defined their previous songs. Those are still here in spades (“Get Lucky” being the best and most obvious representative), though the band isn’t afraid to slow the rhythm section down a bit and let the song roll along at a less breakneck but no less enjoyable pace. The opening track, “American Slang,” is a perfect example; the band let the song build and still retain the anthematic feel without sacrificing melody or a fantastic build. The band feels tighter overall on this record; previous outings featured at least a track or two where things didn’t quite feel like they synced up, but that isn’t the case here.

The opening four tracks on the album – “American Slang,” “Stay Lucky,” “Bring It On,” and “The Diamond Church Street Choir” – are probably the best opening salvo on a record I’ve heard all year. In fact, it’s often hard for me to get to the back half of the record because I keep going back to hear those four songs over and over again. The album does lose some momentum on the back side, though it never loses its sense of purpose or driving rhythms.

American Slang is easily one of the best albums I’ve heard all year and avoids many of the pitfalls I feared the band would hit trying to follow up their breakout record. Definitely recommended.

Josh Ritter – So Runs the World Away

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Josh Ritter’s latest, So Runs the World Away, is something of a departure from his previous albums. It’s not as immediately gripping as his other work, and the best songs on the album are still growers, but it’s a record that shows some nice artistic growth.

Ritter’s previous work was very much in the singer-songwriter vein, featuring plenty of finger-picked acoustic guitars, copious use of the word “babe” in the lyrics, and way more words crammed into phrases than will actually fit comfortably. This record ditches the acoustic guitar in favor of electric singer-songwriter finger-picking and (more prominently) organ and keyboard. The keyboard is the dominant sound on this record, and it adds plenty of texture and atmosphere to the songs. Ritter has changed the way he writes his lyrics much – there are still phrases where he’s essentially spitting the words out as fast as he can, he still croons in his half-hushed, mumbly way, and the word “babe” does crop up a couple of times – but he’s approaching the instrument side in a completely different way. Ritter plays with textures and layering sounds on this record, taking full advantage of the studio setting to create intricately-woven layers of organ, keyboard, and electric guitars. The work has a more atmospheric feel, relying very heavily on those keyboards and using guitars to fill in gaps and holes.

The album works, though none of the songs really jump out the way that songs on his previous work did. The songs are quite good, even if they are growers. Opener “Curtains” signals just how different this album is: 56 seconds of swirling keyboards and atmospherics, no words, just texture. “Change of Time” has a wonderful layered build, while “Folk Bloodbath” borrows some folksong heroes for a dark tale of death and betrayal.

The record is definitely a step forward for Ritter in terms of production and expanding his sound. The album may not grab you like his previous albums, but it rewards repeated listens with new depths and great songs.

Jakob Dylan – Women and Country

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I realize that, at this point, there probably aren’t a whole lot of people clamoring for a new Wallflowers or Jakob Dylan album. I am, mind you, but I have a thing for sturdy roots-rock with layers of guitars, organ, and thoughtful singer-songwriter lyrics.

Jakob Dylan’s first solo outing, the sparse and spare Seeing Things, wasn’t a bad record. The sepia-toned music didn’t really aspire to do much, and some of the songs seemed to be more sketches than fully-realized tracks. That said, I still enjoyed it, slight though it may have been.

Dylan’s second solo record, Women and Country, avoids many of the traps and pitfalls of its predecessor. For one, the tracks are more fleshed-out, with a greater diversity of instrumentation (Seeing Things mostly featured Dylan’s voice, acoustic guitar, and the occasional upright bass or sparse percussion), a wider stylistic net, and songs that just feel more complete. Probably the best sonic comparison for this album would be Allison Krauss and Robert Plant’s duet album from a few years back, Raising Sand (an album likewise produced by T-Bone Burnett): there’s lots of pedal steel guitar, reverb-heavy guitars, subtle percussion, and the occasional hint of strings or banjo to add texture.

Dylan throws out a variety of song styles on this record. “Lend a Hand” sounds like it could be a Tom Waits song, while “Standing Eight Count” “and “Truth for a Truth” sound like they could have been Wallflowers tunes. “Smile When You Call Me That” is a straight-up old-school country song the likes of which you’d expect from George Straight or Merle Haggard. “Holy Rollers for Love” is a beautiful song made even better thanks to the fantastic backing vocals from Neko Case and Kelly Hogan.

This is the sort of solo album you like to hear: different enough from the artist’s main gig to be worth the effort to go solo, but with enough familiarity to not alienate. Women and Country is easily my favorite album of the year so far.

She & Him – Volume Two

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“Sometimes, lonely isn’t sad,” Zooey Deschanel croons in the album opener, “Theives,” over instrumentation that wouldn’t have been out of place in a Roy Orbison tune. That sense of optimism in the face of failed love in “Thieves” carries forward throughout the album; there’s a genial, conversational tone to her lyrics and stories, and while the thematic content of the songs hasn’t change much (or, really, at all) from Volume One, but Deschanel and Ward are mining such a rich, comfortable source that you can always draw from.

Volume Two builds on the sonic palette from the first album, adding new sonic touches such as old-school countrypolitan strings and more electric guitar (both of the warm, 1950s Patsy-Cline style and Ward’s more typical spidery electric leads) to the warm, strummy acoustic base. There are touches of steel guitar and some piano and keyboards as well, and Ward surrounds Deschanel’s voice with a Phil Spector-ish wall of sound. While Deschanel’s voice is limited, it’s limited in a charming way, and she manages to work around her limitations in such a way as you don’t notice or mind so much.

Volume Two is a great continuation of the Deschanel/Ward collaboration, and hopefully the two will continue making comfortable, warm, sunny pop music for a long, long time.

Holy Crap, the Music!

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I’m something of a music fanatic (as anyone who’s been around me for any more than five minutes is probably aware), and looking at the upcoming releases for the next few months has be extremely excited.

And with good reason: new releases from She & Him, The Walkmen, Band of Horses, The National, Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, Josh Ritter, Jakob Dylan, The Hold Steady, The New Pornographers, Ra Ra Riot…it’s like a season of music specially-designed to make me happy. The only thing that could make the next few months of new releases better would be if Bob Dylan announced he had a new one coming out, too.

On Guitar Prices, or WTF?

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My brother and I were having a conversation the other day about musical instruments; specifically, about the rising cost of electric guitars and how we were pretty damn confused by it.

“They haven’t really changed the methods or the materials they use to make a Fender Telecaster in 15, 20 years,” he said. “So the guitar I’ve got is essentially the same one they’re putting out now, but mine cost half as much.”

And it’s true. A Made in Mexico (MIM) Telecaster used to go for around $250 or so in the mid- to late-90s. Today, it goes for $500. A used Tele from the mid-90s will go for $400 on Craigslist, which is also pretty ridiculous. I bought a mid-90s MIM Stratocaster back last March, and it cost me around $300 (which, now that I look at it, was apparently a good deal). But now the Squiers, the cheap little brother of the Fender family, cost as much as the MIM Teles or Strats used to, and that just doesn’t seem right. In what world would someone really want to pay several hundred dollars for an entry-level, crappy little guitar like a Squier? That’s like paying several hundred dollars for someone to crap out a guitar-shaped thing for you, and it just ain’t worth it. I mean, they’re selling a freakin’ Squier for almost $400 here.

Delayed Reaction: Moxy Fruvous, Thornhill

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Every so often, I feel inclined to dip back into the wellspring of the music of my childhood (or early adulthood, as the case may be) and revisit something I used to listen to until my ears fell off. The Moxy Fruvous album Thornhill is one such trip.

It all started Thursday night when one of the songs off the album, “My Poor Generation,” came up on shuffle on the ol’ iPod. I thought to myself, “Man, haven’t heard this song in ages! Why don’t I listen to these guys more?” ‘Cause seriously, there was a period of about three or four years there (in college and into grad school) where I listened to them constantly. My computer was full of illegally-downloaded tunes by the Canadian quartet, I had their website bookmarked, and I was deeply disappointed that they went on “indefinite hiatus” around the same time I really got into them. It was like the cosmos was laughing at me.

Thornhill is one of those “mature” records that arists sometimes make. Moxy Fruvous was always a little goofy and silly, what with writing songs about European monarchs on the lam and bandit fish and all. But Thornhill was a fairly serious, adult affair: sure, there were still jokes, but they weren’t the focus of the songs. Rather, the melodies, the harmonies, and the personal stories were front and center. And these guys can sing and write a lovely pop song, lemme tell you. The album is chock-full of perfectly-balanced pop songs with clever lyrics, layered vocal harmonies, and a folky, jangly sound that I could just listen to for days on end.

Do I love this album as much now as I did back then? I dunno. It’s aged well, I know that. Some of the songs rely too much on their clever wordplay to try to get them through (“Hate Letter” in particular), and a couple of songs really drag down the back half of the record (“Independence Day” and “Downsizing,” the two most doggedly serious songs on the record, spring readily to mind here), but most of the album is still great. Well over half of the tracks on the album have a five star rating on my iPod, so that speaks pretty clearly to how much I still enjoy this music.