Consumer GuideMy search this month began by clearing the decks of alt-rock also-rans--I'm more than half done, with several finds unearthed so far. It ended with a surprise tour of Latin comps that began in Panama. And of course there was other stuff in between--working out the J Dilla problem, for instance. An Horse: Rearrange Beds (Mom & Pop) From Brisbane--like the Go-Betweens!--comes young Kate Cooper with her noisy guitar and her journalism degree and her male drummer from the record shop and her womanly enunciation with a firm drawl inflecting her "aw"'s and short "o"'s. Like the Go-Betweens, she never lets go of a song until there's a hook in it somewhere and she usually writes about love--assume autobiography and this is a breakup album full stop. Striding forward, Cooper won't let that stop her. She hurts, but her chin scarcely trembles at all. A MINUS J Dilla: Jay Stay Paid (Nature Sounds) Where the genius loops a dying Dilla strung together on Donuts are a kind of chain necklace, Pete Rock weaves these legacy beats into something more ropelike--a lanyard, say. Since both records are more abstract than their cheering sections understand, the many voices Rock enlists make a difference. From Doom and Black Thought down to Phat Kat and Frank Nitty, they ground Dilla's beats where, for instance, the finished singles collected on Rapster's Dillanthology comp put them in the background where any pro knows they belong. The result is less a mixtape than a hip-hop version of a good Augustus Pablo album--more varied, jocular, and disquieting because that's how hip-hop is, but still a single organism. B PLUS Patterson Hood: Murdering Oscar (And Other Love Songs) (Ruth St.) Shortly after the 2004 living-room collection Killers and Stars, the Drive-By Trucker and great American songwriter figured out a better way to make a solo album: not just with a band, duh, but with never-recorded mementos of his intermittently wasted late 20s juxtaposed against tokens of fatherhood at 40 and other life satisfactions. Took a while to get off the back burner, but the simmering helped it blend. Hood is too inclined toward dark-side thoughts and the world too inclined toward dark-side realities for the newer songs to come off complacent. But like the best Nashville vets, he knows enough to root both "Granddaddy," an optimistic take on having a kid, and "Pride of the Yankees," a worried one, in telling details, personal and historical respectively. The alt-rock vet he is takes time to level a few harsh words at old fling Courtney Love. But here's one thing that makes him a great American songwriter--they're tempered by kind ones. A MINUS Kronos Quartet: Floodplain (Nonesuch) Usually this staunchly eclectic string quartet forges alliances with non-Western musicians I'd as soon stand alone or works with Western composers who aren't to my taste. This collection of traditional music, classical music, pop songs, and special commissions from a broadly conceived Middle East is different. Dumb me found out from the notes that it was the two pop songs that always rang my chimes--one from Egypt circa 1940, the other from '70s Iraq. In the wrong mood, some of the others can seem too solemn, histrionic, drawn-out--slow. But there's nothing here that doesn't suit the right mood. There are cathedrals in Sicily that overlay Christian imagery on Islamic design in buildings that can accommodate all comers. This album brought them back. A MINUS The Pains of Being Pure at Heart (Slumberland) Muffling their excellent knowledge of English in jangle and reverb, four theoretical nerds demonstrate why a band is better than grad school. Obviously no sad sacks if you have the courtesy to log off Twitter and listen, they flip off stacks etiquette in "Young Adult Friction" and cope with the indiscretions of a teaching assistant in "The Tenure Itch." Not only do they have a sound, they have tunes, and the words bring both home. One day it will please them to remember even this. A MINUS Panama! 2 (Soundway) The first volume preserves the big-band salsa and Latin soul of the Colon and Panama City scenes--hot, yes, but often secondhand and/or overblown. This one sticks mostly to the interior. On the lead track, an accordion takes the horn part of a Willie Colon bomba and turns the tune into a cumbia; on the next, two horns take the accordion part of a percussion-driven tamborito and turn that one into "tamborito swing." Gradually the music salsafies, though less elaborately than on volume one, as well as briefly resuscitating more soul and a couple of calypsos. But in the end the accordion returns, frisky and tipico, the indigenous instrument of what some have called "Colombia's black province," as of the 1967-'77 heyday this heroic crate dig documents. A MINUS The Rough Guide to Dub (World Music Network) A less inclusive sampling than the title suggests--everything 1973-1980, King Tubby and acolytes only--and easier to access as a result, especially for those put off (or bored) by the abstraction toward which the dub mindset gravitates (or wanders). This early in the genre's history, trickles of melody still activate the pleasure centers as the music shifts in and out of one's stoned, spaced or distracted consciousness. Later, dry will regularly be mistaken for deep. A MINUS Oumou Sangare: Seya (Nonesuch) In the '90s she was a self-made African queen on an unprecedented feminist mission--the titles of her albums from that decade translate to "women," "marriage today" and "10 kola nuts," which lest you wonder is or was the standard bride price in Mali's Wassoulou. Then she spent a dozen years raising a son and running multiple businesses, among them selling a Chinese car dubbed the Oum Sang for Malian consumption, such as it is. Her musical return to the world market translates simply "joy," and though it's unimpeachably pro-woman, it's also as expansive in mood as a Youssou N'Dour crossover. For all its 50-plus musicians, it's less varied than Youssou, though, and that's good. Sangare drew her musical authority from the cycling rhythms of Wassoulou hunting and harvesting songs, and she remains a homegirl. Nowhere is she more rousing then revving up old-time beats on two tributes to her musical forebears: the restrained "Djigui" and the unrestrained "Koroko." A MINUS Regina Spektor: Far (Sire) No kid but not yet 30, the very classically trained piano woman outgrows her musical and verbal eccentricities. The tunes are consistently fetching, and a few standouts have clever lyrics--"Laughing With," the sensible theist's answer to "One of Us," or "Wallet," in which a good-hearted young person reaches across the generational divide to a stranger who'll never know who did him a good turn. But that cleverness doesn't do justice to the even strength of Spektor's humanism, which often manages to be whimsical and levelheaded at the same time. Insofar as one can read autobiography into this carefully unsubjective stuff, she seems to have the usual commitment problems and also seems likely to overcome them. Eventually she's sure to find a bird who's ready to fly away just when she is. A MINUS Honorable Mentions
Choice Cuts
Dud of the MonthGrizzly Bear: Veckatimest (Warp) Nomenclature niggle: not "chamber pop." Serving up two kinds of genteel escape, pastoral and aesthetic, this is chamber folk-rock--or, less kindly, folk-prog. From the Beach Boys on down, chamber pop is about tune and hook embellishment. These guys are in it for the atmosphere. There are vaguer lyrics out there, but the reason the band's claque is gaga for the line "We'll swim around like two dories" isn't how evocative the image is (it isn't, which should count for something), but the extra squeeze of choirboy tight-ass Daniel Rossen pretties it up with. Applied to the straightforward "Deep Blue Sea" on Dark Was the Night, their skilled playing remains modest enough, but on this subtler and more pretentious material, the skills predominate, and just in case they don't, let's add a string quartet here and real choirboys there. Plus, they still hum. Less than last time, but a lot. C PLUS More Duds
MSN Music, August 2009
|