Showing posts with label Robert Plant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert Plant. Show all posts

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Plant’s Joyful “Rockin’ Hootenanny”

Robert Plant & the Band of Joy during last summer’s tour.


Robert Plant and the Band of Joy put on a wonderful show last Tuesday night at the House of Blues in Boston. A self-described “rockin’ hootenanny,” the concert was strong proof of how fully-immersed Plant has become into the Americana genre of music. The performance was more atmospheric country than rockabilly or blues, definitely new terrain for Plant and a progression even from the phenomenally successful Raising Sand album and tour he did with Alison Krauss and T-Bone Burnett.

Particularly impressive this time around was the degree to which Percy ceded the spotlight to his bandleader, renowned guitarist Buddy Miller, as well as unsung hero multi-instrumentalist Darrell Scott (the JPJ of the Band of Joy who shone on pedal steel, acoustic and electric guitar, banjo, mandolin and vocals) and singer Patty Griffin. No matter what side roads Plant explores, he always has a stellar cast of fellow travelers supporting him, and that’s more true than ever with his current caravan. In fact, on a several occasions the main attraction withdrew to the rear of the stage and sang backing vocals (as only he can, of course) while Griffin, Miller and Scott took turns at the helm.

Having seen the former Led Zeppelin frontman on nearly every tour he’s done in the last 15 years or so, and several before that, I was struck by the now undeniable fact that he’s starting to look old physically. He is, after all, 62. Despite that, he lacked none of the vitality or charisma that made him the most legendary rock vocalist since Elvis.

And he was in great voice. Relaxed, confident, yet self-effacing, and even humorous at times, Plant’s focus was on appreciating the tunes, not attempting the vocal gymnastics or rock god histrionics of yore. People continue to harp on how he can “no longer hit the high notes.” Who cares?! I have no desire to see him try to sing like he did when he was 22. His voice is now mature, rich and resonant, rife with more gravity and nuance than during the high-wire act of his youth.

Rich vocal harmonies and bluesy gospel flavors were the predominant themes Tuesday night. These were most evident on Griffin’s “Love Throws a Line,” the Louvin’ Brothers’ “Satan, Your Kingdom Must Come Down,” the bluesy banjo of “Twelve Gates to the City” (with a perfectly integrated vocal teaser of “In My Time of Dying”), and the righteous a capella of “And We Bid You Goodnight” that ended the evening.

In total, the set comprised 19 songs and lasted just over 90 minutes: Not the epic rock journey of pastimes, but a fulfilling offering nonetheless. No one left the show wanting. In fact, by my reckoning, quite a few were downright ecstatic as they hit the exits.

The band kicked off the show with a laid back rhythmic version of Zeppelin’s “Nobody’s Fault But Mine” (about as bluesy as it got all night), then delved right into a spritely but quick rendition of Los Lobos’ “Angle Dance,” the single from last year’s Band of Joy album. Next came “Down to the Sea” from Plant’s underappreciated 1993 album Fate of Nations. Then there was the one nod to the collaboration with Krauss, “Rich Woman,” on which Griffin quickly established herself as more than equal to the task, delivering an earthier, swampy vibe while Miller cut loose with some frenetic twangy leads.

In the first four songs, Plant drew upon many of the distinct reference points from throughout his career, and did it in a way that showed the Band of Joy’s unique imprint on the tunes. But it was a slowly building start. Powered by engaging rhythm, slinky guitar and pedal steel, and Plant’s mostly reserved, but spot-on singing, the band gained momentum as it covered more ground.

As usual, much of the crowd was there primarily to hear reminders of the singer’s glory days of old, and Plant and Co. did an admirable job of presenting creative and compelling reinterpretations of several Zeppelin tunes (most interestingly and effectively on the retooled, pedal-steel-driven “Houses of the Holy”).

Among the other old gems buffed and mounted in new settings were: LZ III’s “Tangerine,” which got the full pedal-steel treatment of the original that even the Zep lads never brought to it in concert; “Ramble On,” reminiscent of the way Page & Plant performed it on their 1998 tour, with Miller, for perhaps the only time all night, echoing Jimmy Page’s tone and guitar solo; and a romping bluesy version of “Gallows Pole,” which rhythmically churned to a propulsive climax amid Griffin’s soulful chant-like wailing.

Despite all the nods to the past, this concert was really about the singer’s genuine enthusiasm for exploring American country and gospel. Fortunately, the stellar musicians in tow – including bassist Byron House and Boston native Marco Giovino – were more than up to the task.

Miller and Scott both cut loose on several occasions, particularly on the powerful reinterpretation of the understated “Please Read the Letter” from Page & Plant’s Walking Into Clarksdale album – a tune Plant had also performed with Krauss, but not to such dramatic light-and-shade effect as done here.

There was only the occasional nod to the blues, but one of them, “Somewhere Trouble Don’t Go,” featured Miller on lead vocals, while the Wolverhampton Wanderer supplied some all-too-rarely seen or heard blues harmonica. Bobby can still blow.

Overall, I was surprised at how little Plant featured his current release, playing just three songs from this band’s namesake album. The singer only even mentioned the album twice, the second time admitting the “understatedness” of the promotion. Clearly, the guy is not concerned (nor need he be) with selling CDs; that’s not what he was here for.

I was pleased, however, that at least one my three favorite songs off the Band of Joy CD did show up as the first song of the encore. The elegiac, atmospheric strains of “Silver Rider” brought the under-served album to the fore, if only briefly. Then, like a feather on the wind, it was gone, giving way to a near honky-tonk version of “Rock and Roll,” which gradually evolved into the riff-rocker we all know it as. Then the band bid us a gospel-ish goodnight and were gone.


OPENER

The Dickinson brothers, two-thirds of the North Mississippi All Stars, opened the show and I caught most of their set. In advance of the show, I had heard fairly high praise for the duo’s efforts, particularly the guitarist’s fluid playing. And, yes, the guitar playing was, in fact, impressive and fluid at times. The overall effect, however, struck me as a slightly more polished though perhaps less original or inspired version of what Jack White does. There was also significant suggestion of the Allman Brothers Band, as well as Alvin Lee and Ten Years After. To me the absolute stand out of their set was when the drummer emerged from behind the kit for an electric washboard solo that was something akin to Jimmy Page’s spacey theramin freakout during “Whole Lotta Love.” Novelty aside, it was pretty cool, but you really had to see (and hear) it to believe it.


Robert Plant and Band of Joy: House of Blues, Boston, 1/25/11

THE SET LIST

1. Nobody’s Fault But Mine

2. Angel Dance

3. Down to the Sea

4. Rich Woman

5. House of Cards

6. Love Throws a Line (Patty Griffin lead vocal)

7. Please Read the Letter

8. A Satisfied Mind (Darrell Scott lead vocal)

9. Satan, Your Kingdom Must Come Down

10. Somewhere Trouble Don’t Go (Buddy Miller lead vocal)

11. Tangerine

12. Twelve Gates to the City

13. Houses of the Holy

14. Tall Cool One

15. Ramble On

16. Gallows Pole

17. Silver Rider

18. Rock and Roll

19. And We Bid You Goodnight



Monday, December 27, 2010

The Best Albums of 2010

This is the second year that I’ve done a “Best of” round up, and while there were some outstanding releases in 2010, the pickings aren’t quite as deep as last year’s. In fact, the tail end of this year’s Top 20 would not have made the list in competition with 2009’s releases. That said, the albums in the upper echelon of this year’s list are just as good as the best of 2009.

As with all such lists, this Top 20 roundup is totally subjective, based on my personal interests and happenstance. And though I’d like to think my choices are informed by a wide-ranging, eclectic taste in music, I make no pretense that there’s adequate representation of any particular genre – especially hip-hop, electronica, jazz, heavy metal, or … well, lots of other things. (Much to my dismay, there isn’t even any Malian music making the cut this year; though I did consider Afrocubism, which would’ve garnered partial credit for the West African musical wellspring.) This 2010 list does feature new releases from a few old faves, new incarnations by several artists, and a new discovery or two.

So, here they are – roughly ranked, but not numbered – my picks for the 20 Best Albums of 2010:


Broken Bells Broken Bells – I received an advance copy of this in late 2009, so I got a bit of a head start (official release was in January 2010). That was a good thing since it took me quite a few listens to get into it. Once I did, however, it became one of my absolute favorites for the year. This is surprising, because it’s missing key elements that are usually critical to my embracing an album: First and foremost, interesting and prominent guitar – i.e., front and center, often vying with the vocals for primacy. There is guitar on this CD, but it never drives the tunes, it provides the hues, not the primary colors. One constant is prominent Hammond organ, though not always in its usual context. Synths, horns and strings fill out the sonic palette.

This is clearly a producer’s record (no surprise given the principle players: Gnarls Barkley’s Danger Mouse and The Shins’ James Mercer). And, in this case at least, that’s part of the appeal. It’s well constructed on all levels. The songs are multi-textured, yet built on simple, catchy hooks. So, paradoxically, it’s a collection of dense songs that you can hum a long with.

These two guys really know how to write and arrange potent pop songs, with some meaningful, captivating lyrics to boot. (“The High Road,” “The Ghost Inside” and “Your Head Is on Fire” are just a few formidable examples.) There may be one or two filler tracks, but the vast majority of the tunes on this record would be lead singles on other artists’ releases. In fact, “The Ghost Inside” is one of the best pure pop songs I’ve heard in years.

At times, Broken Bells evokes The Beatles, Pink Floyd and naught-decade pop. It can even sound like Tears for Fears (“Trap Doors”) or Squeeze (“Mongrel Heart,” even with it’s 007-ish intro riff); ironic since neither of those bands ever did much for me. On “The Mall & Misery” guitar tones right out of 1978 (think Talking Heads or The Buzzcocks) finally eek their way to the fore, concluding things with yet another strong melodic hook. But, overall, if you like lush instrumentation interwoven with catchy pop melodies, strong choruses and lyrics that are worth listening to, this is a record for you.


You Are Not Alone Mavis Staples – While I’ve long appreciated Mavis Staples and The Staple Singers, what made me buy this CD was the fact that it was produced by Wilco’s Jeff Tweedy, and that he believed enough in the project to talk it up quite a lot. However, I was not expecting the power of music, voice and message that gushes from the grooves – OK, not vinyl, no grooves, but plenty of soul! – on this album. Tweedy’s influence, while evident, is clearly secondary to Staples’ potent voice and devout gospel message. The music is just as divinely inspired. I’m a bit surprised, but in no doubt, that this is one of my absolute favorite records of 2010. Hallelujah! (See my previous full review of this CD here.)


Red Mark Cutler – Given that I’ve been profoundly impressed with nearly everything Mark Cutler has done for the past 25 years or so, there was little doubt that his new CD would be on this list. The telling fact, however, is that – long-time fandom aside – Red could easily be the very top of this list. Yes, it’s that good!

If you appreciate sophisticated, heartfelt and alluring songcraft; production that lets the songs breathe; and musicianship that is as good as anything you’ll hear on any big-bucks-backed recording session, this is IT … and I mean IT!

Cutler delivers songs that draw you in, make you think, reminisce, dream, appreciate, wonder and worry. Cinematic writers like Sam Shepard, Raymond Carver and others have little on this Rhode Island singer/songwriter when it comes to creating characters, setting and circumstance that intrigue, engage and evoke empathy. Musically, Cutler’s characteristic melodic sense is ever-present, but this time around there’s more emphasis on crystal clear acoustic sounds (guitars, mandolins, accordions) rather than the riff rock and barroom ballads of the Cutler’s past solo efforts and his work with The Schemers, The Raindogs and The Dino Club. Alternately melancholy, soulful and rootsy, Red’s nuanced narratives of worldwise hopefulness invite repeated listening and offer enduring appeal. (See my full review of this one here.)


The Grand Theatre Volume OneOld 97’s – I’m admittedly late to the party on the Old 97’s. Though I was familiar with some of their previous releases, as well as leader Rhett Miller’s solo work, I wasn’t truly hooked until I heard this album. Yes, it treads some of the same terrain as Toronto’s The Sadies, but this Texas quartet has plenty of company in the “Americana” bin filled with country/folk-influenced roots rock that always seems to trace back to Bob Dylan in some way, shape or form. The outstanding title track leading off this affair is a jaunty, folky-pop-rocker that declares: “We know where we are, we’re not very far away.” Indeed, it sounds to me like they’ve arrived.

The Old 97’s definitely have “a sound,” and while it’s more modern than you might guess, they are steeped in the trademark rock and country characteristics that readily suggest points of reference, familiarity and comparison. There are shades of Tom Petty (“Every Night is Friday Night Without You”), a touch of The Feelies (“Let the Whiskey Take the Reins”), and couple of quick excursions into the amphetamine-fueled country rock associated with the Georgia Satellites and others (“The Magician” and “The Dance Class”). Then there’s some leisurely meandering into the melodic baritone country/folk territory of Johnny Cash and Gordon Lightfoot (“You Were Born to Battle”). This is juxtaposed with some “helter-skelterish” touchstones of rock history on (“Please Hold On While the Train Is Moving”). There’s even an interesting re-write of Dylan’s “Desolation Row” in the form of “Champaign, Illinois” – not something you undertake unless you’re crazy, clueless or very confident. This band comes through with its credibility comfortably intact.


CrookedKristen Hersh – I’ve long been a fan of Hersh’s solo work. This latest CD is harder edged than I would have expected at this point in her career, but it’s still rife with familiar Hersh traits. Following on her early indie success with the Throwing Muses (which I was never all that taken with), she has put together an impressive, if underrated, string of solo albums (nine to be exact) over the past 15 years or so. This may be the best music she has ever done – right on par with her acclaimed 1994 release Hips and Makers. It’s artistically honest; at times literary, hallucinatory or confessional; and always moody and emotive. Strong arrangements and electric guitar embellishments mesh with propulsive acoustic guitars to move the listener along on the musical and lyrical journey, much of which revolves around the artist’s adopted home of New Orleans. Hersh’s girlish vocals contrast the edgy themes and unadorned raw guitar rhythms.

Though totally different in style, Kristin Hersh is to folky/indie-pop/rock what Lucinda Williams is to country/folk/blues. And like Lucinda, Kristin continues to improve with age. This is the under-the-radar standout album of the year by a female artist. It deserves to be this high on the list.


Initiate – The Nels Cline Singers – This one is a bit from left field, ­for me at least. Not being a big fan of improvisational jazz, I probably wouldn’t even know who Nels Cline was if not for his involvement in Wilco. That said, this album – actually two albums in one: a studio disc and a live concert disc – is musically captivating and artistically impressive. Despite the band’s name, there’s no singing going on here; it’s atmospheric instrumental music. But that doesn’t mean it’s sedate background music; far from it. While undeniably jazzy overall, the music gets quite cacophonous at times and, on occasion, recalls the experimental art rock of early Pink Floyd. There’s definitely a hint of the old Fillmore days in the air here. When not channeling a bit of Jorma (not to mention numerous jazz masters unbeknownst to me), Cline’s guitar gets Hendrixian in the artistic noise department. If you’re open to a little musical adventure, give this one a few listens.


Le NoiseNeil Young – Neil has made great “solo” albums before, but never one like this: raw, electric, stark, a little nostalgic, often pained and always heartfelt. Familiar themes abound, too: history, environmentalism, enduring love, hope and regret. Producer Daniel Lanois’ soundscape effects and sonic treatments provide a unique color to this affair – taking things out of the blue and into the black most of the time, I think. His efforts match Neil’s passion for the songs, be they the minimalistic grunge side of the equation or the melancholy ballad side.

Overall, the loose rawness of the proceedings leaves the final product sounding unfinished or almost demo-like. That’s fine by me, there’s something to be said for the power of the unfussed with, that capture of a creative instant – especially when you have Young’s proven abilities to channel the Muse. (I suspect that Neil understands the old adage about it being the artist’s job to be as open as possible and then stay out of the way.) Neil’s never been shy about experimenting, what’s amazing at this point is that he can still find new sonic terrain to explore and that he stakes his claim to it so authoritatively. (See my full review of Le Noise here.)


Band of Joy – Robert Plant – As far as the mainstream media goes, this one seems to have been a slow burner. It got respectfully warm, but hardly red-hot, reviews when it first came out. But now that the year is coming to a close, it seems to be popping up near the top of a lot of critics’ end-of-year lists. I give old Percy credit for continuing to avoid the easy and obvious in his musical pursuits. He seems to have hit upon some comfortably stimulating bonhomie with the predominantly Nashville folks he’s been hanging with since his blockbuster 2007 Raising Sand release with Alison Krauss. Krauss is not around this time (ably replaced by a more ready-to-rock Patty Griffin), but renowned session guitarist Buddy Miller is still on board, this time leading the band.

Performances on Band of Joy, so named after one of the singer’s pre-Zep bands in England’s Black Country, feature a variety of crossover-appeal friendly (though certainly not vanilla) covers of songs by artists ranging from Los Lobos (the single “Angel Dance”), Townes Van Zandt (“Harm’s Swift Way”) and Richard Thompson (“House of Cards”) to Low(“Silver Rider” and, my favorite track, “Monkey”). The music is atmospheric and perfectly matched to the different moods the singer conjures up on various tracks. Some of it (“Silver Rider” and “The Only Sound That Matters”) is nothing short of sublime. The vocals, while mostly understated, are distinctive and undiminished. This is not the Golden God Robert Plant, it’s the committed musical appreciator and collaborator Robert Plant who knows the gig is his, but is happy just to be part of a stellar band that’s having fun playing great songs. (See my full review of this one here.)


Wilderness HeartBlack Mountain – It’s really too bad this album did not receive more promotion. After two excellent previous efforts, this is the Vancouver band’s consistently best one yet. The consistency, however, is in the quality of the songs and performance; the music itself is all over the place – a good thing in my book (if done as well as it is here). Much more varied than their 2005 eponymous debut or 2008’s In the Future, Wilderness Heart has an undercurrent of ’60s’ psychedelia throughout, with additional smatterings of early ’70s heavy metal, grunge and even near-folk. The result is dynamic and arty with an edge.

While it’s easy to find comparative references to the band’s sound on this record, what’s especially intriguing is the multiple associations one can find even within just a few songs. Indeed, there are some interesting matchups: The Raconteurs, Page/Plant and The Black Crowes (“The Hair Song”); The Breeders, Steppenwolf, Queens of the Stone Age and the early Church (“Old Fangs”); and the Moody Blues, early Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin and Jon Langford (“Buried By the Blues”). Make no mistake, however, this does not come across as a derivative work. With engaging lyrics, strong arrangements and a good balance of atmosphere and aggression, Black Mountain has etched its own artistic monument on Wilderness Heart.


The Place We Ran FromTired Pony – This is the supergroup (of sorts) that few have heard of. A side project featuring Gary Lightbody (Snow Patrol), Peter Buck (R.E.M.), Scott McCaughey (R.E.M., Robyn Hitchcock and others), Jacknife Lee (producer of U2, Editors and others), Tired Pony’s debut release has received little mention in the music press. This is especially astonishing given how good the record is.

There’s something very thoughtful and weighty about these folky pop tunes. The lyrics (mostly by Lightbody) depict variations on emotional turmoil. Musically, it’s a collaborative affair, with the main players switching instruments frequently throughout. It doesn’t hurt that the principals are joined for cameos by notable friends and collaborators such as Zooey Daschanel, M. Ward and the uncredited Tom Smith (Editors).

Standout tracks include “Northwestern Skies,” with its rich vocals, chiming acoustic guitar and elegiac pump organ; the elegant vocal dance Daschanel and Smith undertake as pump organ weaves around the accompanying piano, guitars, bass and drums on “Get On the Road”; the Traveling Wilbury’s-ish “Dead American Writers”; the increasingly layered instrumentation on “I’m a Landslide”; and the Snow Patrol-meets-R.E.M. feel to Tom Smith’s other vocal appearance, “The Good Book.” [A quick aside: This latter song, one of the album’s best, is suggestive of what Smith’s band the Editors should’ve done on their 2009 release, rather than the ambitious, but ill-advised, synth-heavy affair that was In This Light and On This Evening.]

Yes, if you want to get picky, there are a few dicey moments when Tired Pony comes dangerously close to sounding like Coldplay, but overall the collective presents sophisticated songs with interesting, dynamic instrumentation, thoughtful lyrics and good production. There’s a very organic feel to the proceedings, like what happens when a talented group of musicians put ego aside and set the goal of spending some time writing and recording really good songs. … Mission accomplished.


Propellor TimeRobyn Hitchcock & The Venus 3 – Despite appearances to the contrary, I didn’t purposely place another Peter Buck side project in direct succession to the first one, it just worked out that way. And with good reason, they are both stunning albums. They’re considerably different, but with some unmistakable shared tonalities here and there. Robyn Hitchcock is something of an acquired taste, but within that context he’s produced a remarkably consistent catalog of quality work over the last 25 years or so. I’ve always thought Hitchcock has done what Syd Barrett might have done had he been born about 20 years later and not gone nuts. (For just one example here, listen to “John in the Air.”)

Propellor Time once again teams the eccentric English artist with half of R.E.M., going by the name of The Venus 3. There’s also the added talents of John Paul Jones (mandolin), Johnny Marr (guitar) and Nick Lowe (harmony vocals) on certain tracks. Not bad company! Together they produce folky psychedelic pop – par for the course for Hitchcock. Songs cleverly and entertainingly tackle themes of love, god, art and man’s foibles and neuroses – often in a Dali-esque manner. Understated but noteworthy string plucking – be it on guitar, mandolin or banjo – bolsters the whole affair from start to finish.

This is an album full of standout tracks: “The Afterlight,” with its William Burroughs meets Lou Reed spoken rhymes over an R.E.M.-style backing; “Luckiness,” a twisted country banjo- and mandolin-driven tune bent sideways with undercurrents of ’50s sci-fi sounds (musical saw); “Ordinary Millionaire,” a romantic ballad that channels Al Stewart; and the upbeat folky pop-rock of “Sickie Boy,” which recalls early R.E.M., The Church and George Harrison; and The Beatles cum Byrds country psychedelia of “Born on the Wind” … I could go on.


The Suburbs – Arcade Fire – This was some people’s pick for “Album of the Year” (Q magazine, for one). It is a well-conceived, well-executed song cycle. It definitely deserves a place among the year’s best; nowhere near number one, but that’s just my opinion – and this is my list! I do enjoy this release and readily see its merits, but I have a hard time declaring supremacy for this thematic, theatrical, music hall-ish, modern art rock genre as practiced by the likes of Arcade Fire, The Decemberists and others (is it something to do with northern climes?). While I give Arcade Fire credit for musical ambition and artistry, the bottom line is that, in general, the less thematically and theatrically contrived, but highly emotive music and songcraft of rootsy artists resonates more deeply with me. That said, The Suburbs is a well-developed affair. The music is varied, interesting and well arranged. The lyrics explore the concept with an insightful, contemplative multi-dimensionality that looks both backward and forward without simple nostalgia or predictable pessimism.


PalominoTrampled By Turtles – First there was speed metal, now there’s speed bluegrass. Yep, this string quintet from Dylan’s early stomping grounds (Duluth, Minn.) delivers thoughtful, well-executed original folk songs – often rendered at breakneck speed (you needn’t go beyond the first song for an example). That’s not to say they don’t deliver some more typical, old-timey takes on folk, country and bluegrass, too. Half of Palomino’s 12 tracks are fairly standard renditions of the genre. Nevertheless, the other half are raging barn-burners, and in one instance (“New Son/Burnt Iron”) a little bit of both.

It would be a misrepresentation to paint these Turtles as bluegrass punks or simply entertaining parodists like Hayseed Dixie. They are traditionalists, but with modern sensibilities. The players (mandolin, fiddle, banjo, guitar and bass) are accomplished, adventurous, complementary and congruous. The harmony vocals add depth and heft to the multi-stringed workouts. The songs, often left-leaning lyrically, are comfortably contemporary and remarkably varied – especially considering the same five instruments comprise all tracks. Besides the Dylan references, you might hear hints of The Beatles, The Band, Chet Atkins, Hank Williams, Del McCoury and other bluegrass legends in these otherwise very original tunes.

So, if you like you’re fiddle and mandolin music sometimes plaintive, sometimes frenzied, with guitars and banjos enthusiastically heeding the call whichever direction things are headed, then check out Trampled By Turtles and their latest release.


Who Killed Sgt. Pepper?The Brian Jonestown Massacre – It’s not easy being a fan of BJM. Albums are way off the popular radar, yet astoundingly good … when they’re not shoe-gazers. Concerts are brilliant and inspired (reportedly) … when they’re not self-obsessed, artistic train wrecks (witnessed). Nevertheless, I continue to be drawn to the band’s best recordings – I am a glass half-full kind of guy, after all! This latest release, their 10th since 1995, isn’t the band’s – OK, Anton Newcombe’s and his ever-changing carousel of cohorts’ – best, but it is certainly among their better ones.

The music is a creative, dense, drug-influenced amalgamation of ’60s psychedelia, mid-’90s British trance, bits of late ’80s-era New Order and Depeche Mode, and timeless Floydian experimentalism. In other words, it’s an elusive pagan concoction brewed in San Francisco, perfected in England and fermented in Iceland. Give it a listen, you’ll see.

Standout tracks include: “Let’s Go Fucking Mental,” a funky Celtic groove-fest crossbred with an English football chant; the pulsing dance/trance swirl of “This Is the First of Your Last Warnings” (complete with Icelandic vocals); the percussive tribal drug chant of “Someplace Else Unknown”; and “Super Fucked” (as opposed to what, just “basically fucked”?). Suffice to say, this is not an album for the faint of heart or easily offended.

The final track, “Felt-Tipped Pictures of UF0s” (a title that has no discernable connection to the 10-plus minutes of music it represents), begins as an elegiac exploration of John Lennon’s post “We’re bigger than Jesus Christ” controversy comments (authentic voice samples included) before mutating into a wholesale condemnation of rich rock star hypocrisy (“How the fuck could he sing, to me, about having no possessions?!”) – the latter delivered as only a pissed working-class Liverpudlian could. (So much for the “working class hero” mythology!) “Now it’s all this,” indeed.

Ultimately, Who Killed Sgt. Pepper? is lyrically entertaining at times and musically interesting throughout. And how can you not like a band that in live performance puts the tambourine/maracas-playing background singer on stage front and center?


Together The New Pornographers – Although this release is a little poppy for my taste, the songs are quite good and there’s some interesting instrumentation (especially the strings and horns). The arrangements are tight, the production is crisp and restrained. All told, Together hovers way above the masses of this year’s pop releases.

Given her solo success, Neko Case now brings star power to the band, and though some complain that there isn’t enough of her on this record, I didn’t find that to be the case. She exhibits her ability to carry the show on “Crash Years” and “Up in the Dark.” Yet, the band is not completely dependent on her contributions and here she is as effective when doubling or backing the lead vocal as she is when carrying it herself.

The record does get a bit theatrical sounding at times, but songs travel divergent paths and rather than sounding too alike or thematically conjoined, the best tracks sound like they could be successful singles by themselves. Catchy hooks abound (take “A Bite Out of My Bed,” for example), while soaring electric guitars (recorded backwards in a few instances) dart over bouncy rhythm guitars, the prominent foundation of keyboards and, in a few cases, the quasi chamber orchestra accompaniment. Not surprisingly, the vocals are strong throughout.

Outstanding tracks include “Your Hands Together,” which reminds me of Trevor Horn-era Yes; “Silver Jenny Dollar,” which channels Robyn Hitchcock; “Sweet Talk, Sweet Talk,” with its sprightly piano; and the impressive, nearly baroque pop of “We End Up Together.” All attest to the fact that this is a band that did, in fact, have it together when making this record.


Street Songs of Love Alejandro Escovedo – I had heard the critical raves for this album before I bought it. The praise was impressive, but then again, all of Escovedo’s music gets abundant critical support and while it has, indeed, been very well-crafted and listenable, it hasn’t always necessarily been that extraordinary – to me at least. Yet, upon listening to Street Songs of Love, I didn’t make it more than halfway through the first song before I began sensing something different about this new CD. It had a little more edge to it and a subtle extra oomph in the tracks. The rest of the album more than substantiated that moment of intuition. Sporting a swagger and robustness that at times recalls The Rolling Stones, Springsteen, Nick Lowe, Television, X, Dave Alvin and Los Lobos, this album is top-notch American roots rock. If you like catchy songs with rich production and rocking instrumentation, give this CD a listen.


MojoTom Petty and The Heartbreakers – This isn’t quite the blues album that early reports led me to believe it was. Based on the hype, you’d think TP and Co. were making a run for EC’s blues interpreter crown. That’s hardly the case. Not because this isn’t a good album, it’s just that a lot of it sounds fairly similar to what Petty and The Heartbreakers have been doing for years. Yes, there are a few outright blues tracks (about five of the 15 songs), and some of them are quite good (“Jefferson Jericho Blues,” “Lover’s Touch” and “Good Enough”). But this band has always played bluesy, bar-band style pop rock, and just because it has a pentatonic lead scale doesn’t make it “the blues.” Most of the tracks are simply blues-tinged rock, some with soul flavors and a couple with subtle reggae spices (“The Trip to Pirate’s Cove” and “Don’t Pull Me Over”).

Blues or not, the tunes are quite varied, with most tending toward slow to mid-tempo organ- and guitar-driven compositions. Some of my favorites include “First Flash of Freedom,” a slow-developing, atmospheric blues rock song; the upbeat, funky blues of “Running Man’s Bible”; and the tongue-in cheek 12-bar pop of “Candy.”

Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers have long been one of those bands I respected, but rarely listened to – tending instead to listen more to the older artists who influenced them or even the younger artist who were influenced by them. Mojo, however, is something I do listen to, and it has been a good reminder not only of how good Tom and his band can be, but how adept they are at taking well-established musical styles and putting their own stamp on them. This time out they clearly have it working.


Midnight Souvenirs – Peter Wolf – The Woofa Goofa can still sing, and with good song selection and masterful musicians there’s no way you can go wrong. Throw in a few “celebrity” duets (Shelby Lynne, Neko Case and Merle Haggard) and you’re bound to get some attention, even if you’ve been laying low for awhile. For this release, the former J. Geils frontman again draws upon Duke Levine’s alchemical Telecaster touch, and adds former Dylan sideman Larry Campbell and Kevin Barry, Duke’s frequent six-string sparring partner in Boston singer/songwriting legend Dennis Brennan’s band. So, suffice to say, the string department is in good hands. The rest of the crew isn’t too shabby either.

At times soulful, at times rootsy and Dylanesque, at times both (“Lying Low”), the dominant genre of this album is country, or at least Wolf’s take on country. That shouldn’t be a surprise given his backing band, but it also places more emphasis on the singer’s vocal chops than was the case with the funky r & b tunes he has focused on for much of his career.

It makes for some good listening, especially the bluesy rock of “Watch Her Move”; the atmospheric country soul of “There’s Still Time”; the jaunty shuffle of “Lying Low”; the slow ballad with Neko Case, “The Green Fields of Summer”; the familiar funk fold of “Everything I Do (Gonna Be Funky)”; and the melancholy country duet with Merle, “It’s Too Late for Me.” Mick Jagger wishes his solo albums were half this good.


Tin Can Trust – Los Lobos – The 18th release from the East L.A. quintet sounds about like you’d expect – i.e., solid – with a few surprises added to the roots-rock mix. The opening track sounds a bit like R.E.M. with its prominent country mandolin melodies, while “On Main Street” has subtle, slightly noir horns lurking in the background and a “Dancing in the Street” vibe. Then there’s the expected Espanol excursions: the jazzy samba sound of “Yo Canto” and Mexican party theme of “Mujer Ingrata.” The remainder of the tracks are variations on the blues, all executed with precision and passion: The spacey percussive blues of “Jupiter or the Moon,” the fierce Texas blues shuffle of “Do the Murray” (SRV is smiling somewhere), the smoldering blues of “All My Bridges Burning” and the acoustic folk blues of “The Lady and the Rose.” This is a party record in East L.A. … and everywhere else, too!


Destroyer of the Void ­– Blitzen Trapper – There are two ways to look at this album: As a standalone CD release compared to all the other releases of 2010, or as the Portland, Ore.-sextet’s follow up to their breakthrough 2008 album, Furr. Viewed in the former light, it merits designation as one the best albums of 2010. When compared, to Furr however, it pales in comparison. In fact, at points, it comes off like a semi-successful attempt to replicate Furr – usually not a formula for long-term artistic success. With three previous indie releases before “making it big,” however, the band does have the road cred and the chops to deliver in live performance as well as on record.

All the band’s trademarks are on display: the sophisticated sense of dynamics and song construction, the seamless fusion of acoustic and electric guitars with piano and synth, the impressive but never over-done rhythm parts, and vocal harmonies seldom heard since the days of CSN and Simon and Garfunkel. At times, though, the group relies too heavily on the proven paths of the past: For example, one of Destroyer’s stronger tracks, the hauntingly engaging “The Man Who Would Speak True” sounds an awful lot like a re-write of Furr’s “Black River Killer,” the band’s biggest hit to date. Likewise, “Evening Star” has a certain familiarity (“Gold for Bread” maybe?) in the verse phrasing and lead guitar part.

Nevertheless those are good songs, and it’s not all that way: The piano- and string-oriented “Heaven and Earth” explores all new spaces. “Dragon Song” introduces a funky rock rhythm and an atypically distorted lead guitar solo into the mix, fitting them to the characteristic BT vocal phrasing and melodic treatments. Meanwhile, “Love and Hate” flashes a bit more edge than the band usually wields. So make no mistake, overall, Destroyer of the Void is a fine album – indeed, one of 2010’s best. The main knock is that, as much as it seems to be trying to be, it’s no Furr. (See my review of Blitzen Trapper’s November 2010 headlining performance in Boston here.)


The Also-Ran Department

The only real near-miss this year: Massive Attack’s Heligoland.



Thursday, September 23, 2010

New Plant Yields Various Joys

With his new release, Band of Joy, Robert Plant continues to avoid the obvious and the temptation to resurrect the Golden Godness of his Zeppelin days. Instead, he again explores more esoteric and, ultimately, satisfying music far from the well-worn path of the tired old nostalgia trip.

Early in the decade, he made some wonderful music with The Strange Sensation, bringing West African and Arabic nuances to rock riffs and vocals coupled with the occasional heartfelt homage to some of the folk songs that inspired him long before he and his mighty Zep bandmates trod the globe like wanton Vikings. He followed that with his Grammy-gobbling collaboration with Alison Krauss and T-Bone Burnett. This year’s Band of Joy release, borrowing its name (though no songs or members from one of Plant’s pre-Zep outfits), doesn’t quite measure up to the alchemical wonder of 2007’s Raising Sand collaboration, but it’s pretty darn close and is, in many ways, a step further in Plant’s always interesting, if often musically meandering, sojourn.

Band of Joy, Plant’s 10th solo LP (depending on how you count ’em) does visit some of the same places as Raising Sand (i.e., strong female vocal accompaniment, this time by Patty Griffin – in more of a supportive role than the outright duets featuring Krauss, but noteworthy nonetheless) and lots of haunting reverb and minor key chords and melodies. But it also strays into quite different areas. There’s the occasional hint of North African memories in the rhythms, and once or twice it even sounds like the band is flashing back to Page & Plant’s under-rated 1998 Walking Into Clarksdale release.

Great drums paired with masterful guitar work from respected Nashville session man and Raising Sand tour veteran Buddy Miller color the whole affair and ably bolster Plant’s mostly restrained vocal performance. There’s nothing too flamboyant in the guitar playing, but there are killer atmospherics that create moods perfectly in synch with the singer’s distinctive voice.

Like Raising Sand, this is another album that even people who don’t like Robert Plant’s singing may well like. It’s full of good, often catchy songs (mostly well-chosen covers of somewhat unfamiliar songs by the likes of Low, Los Lobos, Richard Thompson, Townes Van Zandt and others) that vary in pace and tone, yet fit together remarkably well. Despite the diverse composer credits, with superb musicianship and production (spare, open, airy) throughout, the album still seems “of a piece.” Dare I say it, it should have wide crossover appeal.

The range and quality of music on this album is exemplified by the fact that my three favorite songs (at least at this early date) are radically different from one another in style and tone. The opening track, Los Lobos’ “Angel Dance,” is a jaunty, upbeat drum and mandolin-driven song that marries Arabic rhythms and country folk melodies with urgent vocals and pulsating electric guitar. While “The Only Sound That Matters” is a mellower, plaintively romantic tune carried by Plant’s vocal and Darrell Scott’s impeccable pedal steel guitar playing. And, finally, my favorite track of all, “Monkey” is a darkly haunting tune with guitars evoking the more recent sound of The Church (that is, the under-appreciated Aussie band, not the crew from Rome). It’s one of two compositions on the album by the Minnesota slowcore band Low, and one on which both Griffin and Miller really shine.

Griffin, while no Alison Krauss on many levels, nevertheless adds to the haunting undercurrent that runs through much of this album. She manifests a faint, wispy, ghost-like presence on some songs that gets amplified to full-frontal haunt on other tracks. Krauss comes across as a naive innocent compared Griffin’s sultry earthiness.

While Band of Joy expands upon the unique fusion of country, folk, rock, blues and bluegrass that was mined and polished in the Krauss collaboration, the heavier country emphasis of that release is not wholly abandoned here. A few touches of the Nashville recording environs seep through: In the banjo meets field-holler blues of “Central Two-O-Nine” (the album’s only original composition); and the subtly humorous “Cindy, I’ll Mary You Someday,” on which Miller’s clean, reverbed electric guitar lurks eerily behind the banjo licks before ramping up to a rollicking end reminiscent of Zep’s “Gallows Pole.” Then there’s Townes Van Zandt’s “Harm’s Swift Way,” the most Raising Sand-reminiscent song on the record, with Griffin and Plant sharing the catchy “Oh me, Oh my, who’s gonna mark my time?” refrain.

Other notable cuts among the album’s dozen tracks include the dreamy “Silver Rider,” with understated, gradually building guitars reminiscent of some of the mellower latter-day U2 material. (Interestingly, the same might be said of the conclusion of “Harm’s Swift Way,” too.) Less surprisingly, there’s also the near-rockabilly of “You Can’t Buy My Love” and the quasi-doo-wop of “Falling in Love Again,” which finds Plant crooning like he hasn’t since his nostalgic turn with The Honeydrippers in the early ’80s.

Beyond the satisfying collection of songs itself, bonus points to Plant for designing the colorful and intriguing cover art himself. That’s a first for him, I believe. Further evidence that even at 62, he’s still very into exploring new avenues of creativity.

Plant and his current joyous band did a brief tour previewing the new album, mostly through the South, this past summer. I’m looking forward to the opportunity to see a much-anticipated, but yet-to-be announced, second leg tour stop in New England.

POSTSCRIPT: I was thinking about posting the official video to “Angel Dance” along wit this review, but it’s a mediocre video (despite the thematic nod to composers Los Lobos’ Latino heritage). Moreover, the sonically muted sound of YouTube really doesn’t do justice to the dynamic sound of the song as heard on CD. I hold out hope that, if commercially successful enough, maybe they’ll do a better video for “Monkey,” but I'll still listen to the CD for the sound.