DANÍEL ÁGÚST
Swallowed a Star
One Little Indian
Daníel Ágúst was once the principal singer/songwriter of the Icelandic electronica-cum-trip-hop collective Gus Gus. His solo debut, Swallowed a Star, is a far cry from the rhythmic danceable beats of Gus Gus; instead Ágúst follows a much more mellow chamber (bordering on symphonic) pop path utilizing violin and cello to compliment his breathy vocals. The songs are saturated with richly orchestrated walls of sound lending the album a certain cinematic pastiche similar to fellow Icelander Björk’s more mellow forays. I am consistently enthralled by his instrumentation and production, yet Ágúst’s vocals and lyrics instantly turn me off. Swallowed a Star could easily have done without the vocals, which often sound forced and overt; this would have been a uniquely sublime instrumental effort. --Don Simpson
ANDREW
33: The Best of Andrew
Hanky Panky Records
We've sung the praises of Mr. Andrew Sandoval in these pages before. The esteemed producer/engineer/archivist has personally helmed some of the most significant reissue campaigns ever, including exemplary work on the recent Band boxed set A Musical History and the Everly Brothers Bear Family sets. But, he's recorded some damned fine orchestral pop over the last decade as well, and this Hanky Panky anthology rounds up 20 of the best tracks, adding some fine autobiographical liner notes to boot. With echoes of everyone from the Bee Gees to the Beach Boys to the Left Banke, Sandoval's impeccable sense for writing and arranging his baroque rock creations stand as a unique twist on '60s pop archetypes. --Luke Torn
BABYSHAMBLES
The Blinding EP
Capitol
While I loved the second Libertines album greatly, and thought the first two Babyshambles singles were fairly promising, their debut album seemed to me to be pretty much a trainwreck from what I heard and read about it. Pete Doherty seemed to be well on his way to becoming the music industry's biggest joke since Sid Vicious. So it comes as both a great surprise and a delight to report that this 5-song EP, recorded in a gap between assorted busts and magistrate appearances, is in fact quite excellent, better than anything he's done since the Libertines. The title track is a classic, and the other four are all quite good and quite stylistically varied to boot. One hopes this bodes well for the future, and that Doherty will grow up and start minding his health and recreational activities. --Kent H. Benjamin
THE JEFF BECK GROUP
Truth
Beck-Ola
Both Sony Legacy
Just under a year after their British release, Sony Legacy has reissued the two records that not only cemented Jeff Beck's reputation as among the all-time great guitar heroes, but introduced the world to Rod Stewart and Ron Wood. Released respectively in 1968 and 1969 (the latter album with probably England's finest piano player, Nicky Hopkins, as a band member), the albums virtually wrote the blueprint that first Led Zeppelin then later '70s mega-groups like Free would take to the top of the charts. It could be argued, however, that nothing Zeppelin ever released truly topped Truth (indeed, it should be mentioned that the b-side "Beck's Bolero," included on Truth, featured what was to have been Led Zeppelin -- Beck, Page, Moon, Nicky Hopkins, and subbing for an absent John Entwistle, who supplied the name, John Paul Jones). It would be easy to fill half this magazine with wordy praise for these two albums. But instead, let me tell you what you really need to know: the reality is that both these albums always sounded fairly crummy on vinyl and CD -- muddy, sludgy, not much definition to the sound. Now they've gone back to the master tapes and re-created the album mix, but with a brightness, definition, and clarity that the albums simply never had. And none of that over-compressed, over-loud garbage remasters that currently fill the bins, either; these were done right. Hallelujah! At long last, both albums sound like what they truly are: two of the very best British albums of the '60s, the virtual handbook for '70s stadium rock. Add to that a generous selection of kick-ass bonus tracks (for the first time anywhere) on each of them, and this is a no brainer. If you like loud rock music, you quite simply must own these two reissues. Period. --Kent H. Benjamin
BOBBY BARE JR’S YOUNG CRIMINALS STARVATION LEAGUE
The Longest Meow
Bloodshot
Forget all you know about Bobby Bare, Jr. The eternal goofball is still irresistible and charming (witness titles “Uh Wuh Oh” and “Mayonaise Brain”) even though he’s now married. But there’s new muscle in the mirth and some hard-earned maturity offered in these live-in-the-studio tracks which are so comfortably disarming. Bare lays out his feelings like never before in the surging “The Heart Bionic” (a pledge of love to his bride) and “Back To Blue” (a country lament that no doubt makes Daddy proud). That he's backed up by excellent players, including the likes of My Morning Jacket’s Jim James on harmonica and Lambchop’s Deanna Varagona on saxophone, only drives home the music as the songs brim with confidence and verve. The ensemble's Pixies cove, “Where Is My Mind,” is just icing on the Mexican wedding cookies. – David Pyndus
THE BE GOOD TANYAS
Hello Love
Nettwerk
Odd that this is only the third record from the Vancouver trio because it seems the gals have been around longer, so entwined are their soft harmonies and fingerpicking dexterousness. There are no bold moves here sonically, just little hoedowns like Sam Parton’s “A Little Blues” and elegant ballads like Frazey Ford’s title track. The covers are sweet, ranging from a campfire version of Neil Young’s “For The Turnstiles” to Mississippi John Hurt’s “Nobody Cares For Me” (with Jolie Holland on backing vocals), which sounds like a luxurious ride on an old-fashioned merry-go-round. Speaking of old fashioned, stay tuned for the princely hidden track for a dose of folk funk. – David Pyndus
BLUE SKIES FOR BLACK HEARTS
Love Is Not Enough
King of Hearts Records
The second album from this Portland, Oregon combo is a low-key power pop gem. Led by singer Pat Kearns, the band effects a wearily melancholic persona with enough melodic fireworks to keep things interesting. Think Zombies go lo-fi. --Charlie Sands
CHAMPAGNE FRANCIS
I Start To Daydream
Whoa! Bess Music
Smart, tuneful, relatively straightforward power pop. They list their influences as Fountains of Wayne, Nada Surf, and Weezer, and for once the comparisons are pretty close to the mark. Marked by singer/writer Brian Silverman's affable singing voice and plenty of ornate guitar curlicues supplementing the band's sturdy melodies, songs from the slightly melancholy but insanely catchy "Old Vampires" to the stop/start bit on "Burned to the Ground" make for a breezy, state-of-the-pop artifact circa 2007. --Charlie Sands
THE CLASH
The Singles
Sony/BMG
From a purely geeky collector standpoint, if you’re a Clash fan, The Singles box is just the most incredible thing to have and to hold. Being old enough to remember the thrill and anticipation of getting that latest in-between-albums single by the Clash, it’s wonderful to have these so lovingly assembled on 19 discs, all re-created from the original sleeves. I’ve spent more time ogling the packaging and the thick, informative booklet than I’ve spent listening to the music. Going for the rarest stuff first, this box provides an alternative view to the evolution of the Clash from the scrappy punk rockers of "White Riot" through the pivotal Cost of Living EP and on to the lone London Calling single from their masterpiece double album. As the ‘70s became the ‘80s, the Clash became more prolific, and the period surrounding the elegant sprawl of Sandanista! is better represented, with the dub single "Bankrobber" (featuring Mikey Dread), three tracks from Sandinista!, featuring even more material in b-sides (how do you record 36 songs and still have material left over?). Then, the oversaturation period of the three Combat Rock singles (with only two non-album b-sides between them) leading to the last single—“The Is England”—from the post-Mick Jones era and that repulsive album The Crap [speak for yourself!; real title Cut the Crap, ed.]. The downside of the project, from a listener’s standpoint (aside from the fact that a few b-sides are missing, and the Cost of Living EP as originally released is still MIA), is that it’s understandably time consuming, putting in each single for it’s duration. It would’ve been a fine idea to have included an additional full-length disc of all of the material together, merely for the sake of convenience. But, in many ways, having to spend so much time and effort to hear all of the hidden treasures is very rewarding in much the same way collecting the original vinyl was. This, kids, is what was so special about growing up with the Clash! --d.n.l
THE COMFORTERS
Transplants
bio timbre
Nice!
Dedicated to Grandma Ruth, Transplants is the kind of cuddly album indie rock fans would do well to acquire. I am dead serious. Is there any other music out there that can convey raw emotions like country-folk? I mean, when that pedal steel glides into “Lazy Sundays,” tell me you’re not in paradise? Don’t be cynical, boys and girls, this is not your grandpa’s music, this represents your roots. Pia and Jason Robbins should be applauded for producing a collection of simple albeit deep songs that touch the soul.
Pia possesses a soothing larynx that never imposes but asserts itself with confidence and authority. And despite the obvious Americana intent, there is an overall eclectic agenda about Transplants – The Comforters are no one-trick ponies. So you’ll hear some blues, some jazz in the mix, some good old fashioned country ballads that leave you wanting more. --Kevin Mathews
DAWN PARADE
Dawn Parade
self-released
The Dawn Parade’s swansong is as dense as it is haphazzard. Seventeen songs in 80 minutes is a generous offering from any band, but in this case a few less too-earnest rockers might have provided for a more solid album. The Dawn Parade were obviously a hard-working band of true believers, but there are moments where their desparation for success shows them trying a little too hard -- in particular, “The Passion” sounds like it came straight off an old Journey record. Occasionally, the band was able to pull off their melodramatic approach, with more lushly-produced, moodier songs like “Wider Than January Skies” and “Salt and Vinegar Lips.” Somewhere between these two poles are songs reminiscent of mid-80’s college-rockers The Chameleons U.K. The Dawn Parade had fans in high places, though, receiving accolades from the late John Peel, NME, and the now-toothless Rolling Stone. But I can’t help feeling like they might have just pressed the nostalgic, arena-rock buttons of older critics with songs like “Good Luck Olivia” and “Hole In My Heart.” I don’t mean to flog a dead horse, because the Dawn Parade may have been onto something with their radio-ready, unembarrassed rock n’ roll. It’s really too bad they called it quits -- if they could have successfully reconciled the different directions these songs were going, they might have come up with gold. –Jason Stout
THE DOORS
Perception
Rhino/Elektra
Time has a way of eroding the reputations of even the most unassailably talented artists, as first generation memories are replaced by second and third generation interpretations. As the initial rush of having heard something fresh, groundbreaking, visceral, and hair-raising for the first time dims, the years slide by and that buzz is supplanted with a sense of creeping familiarity and indifference. Then come the revivals, the resurrections, and the confirmations that the work was indeed valid and of lasting importance, followed by the inevitable dismissal of another generation of critics who wonder what all the fuss was about in the first place. There may be no better example of this syndrome in all of rock history than the Doors. Both hailed and reviled during their active period from 1966-1971, the Doors have survived and thrived through any number of these cycles over the 36 years since Jim Morrison’s tragic exit, embraced and reinvented or cast aside as irrelevant old hippies by subsequent generations of musicians, celebrated as geniuses or ridiculed as pretentious posers by successive generations of critics. These cycles are generally spurred by the publication of a book or the release of an archived project or the publicity surrounding the legal squabbles of the surviving members and the same pros and cons are argued anew. Perception is the latest release to reignite the Doors debate. The six-CD set presents remastered recordings and bonus tracks the band’s six studio albums -- The Doors, Strange Days, Waiting for the Sun, The Soft Parade, Morrison Hotel, and L.A. Woman -- displaying the band’s magnificent strengths and clear missteps end to end. The Doors remains one of the most spectacular debut albums of all time, Morrison’s rock idol persona, smoldering sexuality, and poetic soul coming together in one astonishing stream of consciousness. And yet, as charismatic as Morrison clearly was, he might have toiled in obscurity without the moody and brilliant accompaniment of Ray Manzarek’s cathedral keys, Robby Krieger’s sinewy jazz guitar, and John Densmore’s essential pulse. The first album fairly throbs with their collective potential, transcending the innocuous pop music that was being made in the mid-’60s. Anything could have been considered a step back after The Doors, but Strange Days and Waiting for the Sun both admirably advanced the band’s musical and lyrical concepts, while The Soft Parade was and remains the Doors’ most misunderstood (and perhaps admittedly misguided) albums in their catalog. Morrison Hotel is the band's return to a gritty blues and swansong L.A. Woman is their triumphant melding of bright pop gloss and dark rock angst.
Perception is assuredly revisionist history. It’s difficult to reconcile the Door’s timeline without considering the impact of the incendiary Absolutely Live! in 1970, which fueled their popularity and allowed them time to recover from the Miami obscenity trial and concentrate on L.A. Woman. There are interesting additions, including the restoration of the obvious “she get high” lyric on “Break On Through (to the Other Side)” from the first album. The bonus tracks are largely B-sides and alternate takes that have seen release on any number of inferior bootlegs, so it’s nice to have them clean and official, although Morrison Hotel’s eight takes on “Roadhouse Blues” might be considered excessive. L.A. Woman may be the most concise and clean disc of the set, with the previously released “Orange County Suite” and the B-side “(You Need Meat) Don’t Go No Further” rounding out the tracklist.
Perception is the perfect title for the Doors’ latest box of sonic delights, a dual homage to the source of their name and the fact that the band’s work and impact can still be open to interpretation three and half decades after their last official work as a quartet. In the end (my only friend, the end), perception is one person’s view of a situation. And where the Doors are concerned, my personal perception began when I saw them on The Ed Sullivan Show in 1967. Whatever trance Morrison was in as he implored the viewing audience to light his fire had spread to his phenomenal band and it mesmerized me as well. The hair went up on the back of my 10-year-old neck and I stood stock still in my grandparents’ living room as I watched what I firmly believed to be the future of music. It certainly wasn’t the only future, but it was a powerful one to be sure. Forty years later, I can still hear that unmistakable organ riff, experience that visceral tingle. and I am transported back to that innocent moment in time when the Doors took my rock and roll cherry. That’s where the Doors started for me and neither the expanse of time nor any overly intellectual dissection of their work and place in the musical foodchain can diminish the brickbat smack of their introduction. At that extended instant, the Doors broke on through and dragged me to the other side, and I have been a willing and engaged resident ever since. The world may never know that kind of instant again because we’ve become too sophisticated and jaded to recognize and enjoy that flash of discovery. I am deeply thankful that I was able to have a moment like that in my life and equally grateful that it was the Doors who served as the Rosetta Stone for every musical experience I’ve had since then. Thank God for the Doors. --Brian BakerELECTRIC SIX
Switzerland
Metropolis
Detroit isn’t a scene, it’s a mindset. Detroit is where the Stooges and the MC5 and Motown happened simultaneously, and the only thing the next Motor City generations have had in common with that insanely monolithic legacy is a burning desire to be every bit as original. Electric Six is a prime example; they don’t even try to sound like themselves. Their earliest releases were free-range party records, deftly balancing garage rock, urban punk and honest-to-Donna disco, while their sophomore album, 2005’s Senor Smoke, was the band’s successful attempt to synthesize those disparate directions into a more cohesive singularity. With Switzerland, Electric Six continues further down that sonic path, bridging the inherent differences in the elements that comprise the band’s diverse sound. As Electric Six becomes more adept at focusing their various musical interests – punk, rock, pop, dance and a wickedly incisive sense of humor – into a more linear and less schizophrenic presentation, they sound more and more like this generation’s version of the Tubes, with the emphasis on writing great songs (the anthemic “I Buy the Drugs,” the Fee-fronts-the-Stooges freneticism of “Mr. Woman,” the swinging synth hammer of “Pulling the Plug on the Party,” the surf western shimmer of “Pink Flamingos”) rather than the ultimately distracting vaudeville schtick. Embracing any number of barely related musical styles and forcing them to comfortably co-exist within their own unique sound, Electric Six has ably absorbed the lessons that Detroit has been chalkboarding for the attentively faithful over the past four decades while adding a few spices of their own. --Brian Baker
FERN KNIGHT
Music for Witches and Alchemists
vhf
Mummers and minstrels have long played a role in Philadelphia history with their annual drunken strut down Broad Street in the Philadelphia Mummers New Year’s Day Parade. The Broad Street Mummers may have descended from Celtic tradition, but they have strayed far from their British Isle roots. Fern Knight, the main moniker for Margaret Wienk's singing and songwriting, have brought true Celtic mysticism back to Philly. Wait, get back here and keep reading! Surprisingly Music for Witches and Alchemists is not just druids and pixie dust worthy of renaissance faires and the Dungeons and Dragons sect. Recorded by Greg Weeks (Espers), the songs drip of authenticity and modernity as they masterfully blend Krautrock, prog, psych, and British folk with early baroque and renaissance music. Also worthy of mention are Fern Knight’s players representative of Philadelphia’s burgeoning folkworld: Alec K. Redfearn, Greg Weeks, Jesse Sparhawk and Otto Hauser (Espers, Devendra Banhart, Vetiver). -- Don Simpson
GHOSTWRITER
Darkest Hours
End of the West
Steve Schecter, a.k.a. Ghostwriter, is a one-man band with a switchblade growl and a taste for punk-fueled country, rockabilly, and blues. The aptly named Darkest Hour is an intense and angry trip into Schecter’s raw outsider observations. He sings, plays guitar, banjo, and harmonica, keeps foot percussion, and makes one hell of a nasty racket. Dissatisfaction, delivered with barb-wired honesty, runs through most of the album from “Cooked“ to “Kinship to Truckers.” But Schecter actually gets somewhat “poppy“ (a relative term) on “S.O.B,” and the banjo-driven “Circus,” a nice change of pace, is thoughtfully delivered. Call it "Sunday Morning Coming Down" for folks looking for something a little more primitive. --Andy Turner
MARK KOZELEK
Little Drummer Boy - Live
Caldo Verde
Five years after White Christmas—Live, Kozelek returns with another live album, also misleadingly named after a Christmas song (which he covers on disc one). This one, however, is a double-disc set far superior to the aforementioned limited edition set released on Sub Pop. Documenting a number of shows from 2003, 2005, and 2006, the first disc features a broad mix of material from all his various projects, from Red House Painters’ classics like "Katy Song" and (Cars cover) "All Mixed Up" to material from both Sun Kil Moon albums and his solo albums. The second disc focuses on two shows from July 2006, two nights apart in Toronto and Montreal. The result is a bit smoother, more of a balance in mood and timbre, while the first seems a bit more patched together. The instrumentation is all acoustic guitar, played by Kozelek and former Painter Phil Carney, a perfect bedding for Mark’s distinctive vocals. There are odd moments in songs that are otherwise perfect when "Katy Song" and "Duk Koo Kim" are deprived of their length and electric guitar build-ups, and seem to just fizzle out. I also have to wonder why, after touring with Sun Kil Moon and with a string section on various tours, Kozelek sticks with the sparser sounding live setting of the duo for this release. Perhaps he’s saving all that for Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer? --d.n.l
LOS STRAITJACKETS
Twist Party
Yep Roc
Party seems like a repetitive term when it comes to Los Straitjackets, but Twist they do over the course of 16 songs. A whole album of twisting songs is way too much, but it’s hard not to have fun listening to the band’s latest. While they used guest vocalists for 2001’s Sing Along With …, the biggest change this time for these instrumental-loving masked men is the inclusion of Scottish vocalist “Kaiser” George Miller on most songs. Kaiser’s smooth delivery on tunes such as “The Daddy-O” and the soulful “Twistin’ In the Rain” fits well with the mostly classy, carefree sound of standard Los Straitjackets, following the rumble-ready departure the band took on its last album, 2003’s excellent Supersonic Guitars in 3D. Robert Parker’s classic “Twistin’ Out In Space” is one of three cool covers here, along with “Peppermint Twist” by Joey Dee and Fats Domino‘s “Domino Twist.” The Beatlerific “Twist ‘N’ Grind” and wacky “Mad Scientwist” are among the other standouts. The accompanying DVD features the World Famous Pontani Sisters and is a campy good time. The always-smiling trio provide go-go dance lessons and two music videos are also included. --Andy Turner
MAPS OF NORWAY
Sister Stations
Guilt Ridden Pop
New-wave tinged pop has been recycled constantly over the last few years. Minneapolis’ Maps of Norway fit right under the umbrella of current acts looking to the past for inspiration. Shimmering guitars and Rebecca Leigh’s unwavering vocals set to throbbing basslines dominate Sister Stations, their latest for Guilt Ridden Pop. Maps of Norway are at their best when guitars and bass collide to create noisy, disparate soundscapes, but unfortunately a large part of Sister Stations sounds too organized and “clean.” The template is in place and the band rarely diverts away from their particular guitar pop formula. Eric Hanson’s six-string wizardry stays fresh throughout and is willingly sustained by Jeff Ball on drums as well as the requisite bass from Matt Helgeson. Appropriate synthesizer accentuations throughout allow the band to flourish in their new-wave heaven. Leigh’s vocals are powerful and insistent, but tend to get a tad stale due to the samey song structures. Highlights “Matches” and “North South” showcase the band’s strengths, but the straightforward arrangements run their course by the end of the record. Although their originality and creativity could be questioned, there is enough toe-tapping, head-nodding material in Sister Stations to appease fans of the genre. --Adi Anand
MERCURY REV
Essential - Stillness Breathes 1991-2006
v2
Fifteen years of Mercury Rev. In some ways it seems like it’s been even longer (and, considering their formative years, it has been), considering all of the changes the band has been through. For the first time, all major eras of the Rev are reconciled with one another, from the early years with the erratic Dave Baker as vocalist and frontman to the middle period directly after his exit, and then the rebirth of the band from Deserters Songs onward. All of it is represented here in some form or another, with disc one providing the highlights of all of these periods, chronologically out of order but, surprisingly, in a sequence that does make perfect sense to the listener. Hearing "Holes" next to "Car Wash Hair," for example, and "Chasing a Bee" after "Goddess on a Hiway" provides a brilliant contrast. The eight minutes of genius in "Frittering" sits well next to the four-minute songs that sandwich it. I’m curious just what kind of collaborative decisions were made in bumping two newer, shorter, songs so that could happen. The second disc is a goldmine of covers (from Lennon’s "I Don’t Wanna’ be a Soldier" and "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" to Neil Young’s "Philadelphia" and David Bowie’s "Memory of a Free Festival" plus the works of Nico, Bob Dylan, and Nikki Sudden), b-sides, and odd collaborations, such as those with poet Robert Creeley on ‘70s spoken-word recordings ("So There") to Alan Vega’s "Deadman" and a Chemical Brothers remix to boot. Of course, Essential is far from complete, but there’s much anticipation involving the band reacquiring their Columbia masters, and hopefully those reissues will feature a wealth of equally rare material. While the casual Mercury Rev fan might have, perhaps, three or four of their albums, it’s interesting to note that, including their transformative work as the Harmony Rockets, there is actually enough material out there for a healthy-sized boxed set. Hint hint! --d.n.l
NIOBE
White Hats
Tomlab
German vocalist Yvonne Cornelius has recorded several albums already under the mythical Greek name Niobe (also a character name on The Matrix movie) after having come into the musical stratus as guest vocalist with Mouse on Mars. Very minimally accompanied, her lovely voice is often manipulated or obscured in some way, but it’s when she is closest to natural that it’s obvious that is an unnecessary diversion. For instance, when accompanying herself on "Surround Your Hover," with simple strummed guitar and vibes, is sweet and simply fine. It’s not that the desire to do something different with the human voice isn’t without merit, it’s just that too often it merely distracts. The title track, after an interesting cut-up intro, is reminiscent of Opal at their most minimal. In other places she resembles fellow German vocalist Katrin Achinger, that cold Teutonic matter-of-factness so evident. She works with several different musical collaborators, and each of them bring something different, from Wechsel Garland’s crisp strings on "Touch This Flower" to St. Lindemer’s very minimal guitar strumming. It’s a work that’s oddly beautiful not for what it is so much for the potential it holds, which is intriguing enough to make me want to hear something more. --d.n.l
THE OVULATORS
The Ovulators
Happy Mistake
The Ovulators hail from Oregon but their most interesting press release claims them as extra-terrestrials. One of the most bizarre introductions to a band, the release states the band to have arrived “from Planet Zygote” and evolved “their bodies of sound and light into the shape of human females.” If that did not awaken one’s interest, their debut CD for Happy Mistake Records invades the stereo system with crunching guitars, throttling bass, and pounding drums. The vocal interplay between Dori, Tina Gnosis, and Stardust creates lush backdrops for the band’s pop-metal soundscapes. Some of the album’s finest moments include the sizzling “Vampire” and the anecdotal “Drag Queen,” while "Satellite of Love" would fit into most decades' radio rock. No stranger to success, the Ovulators have played house band for a local production of Hedwig and the Angry Inch while also garnering the “Best Rock Band of Eugene” award in 2005. Their music speaks volumes for itself, and although lacking the polish of the Donnas or the smarts of Sahara Hotnights, the Ovulators can count themselves as a bright light in a galaxy of stars. --Adi Anand
PROSSER
Prosser
Clickpop
Hailing from the Bellingham, WA, space-rock band Delay, Eric Woodruff is, essentially, Prosser. Playing almost all of the instruments (aside from cello and additional keyboards and guitar), Woodruff also sings all of his material. His approach on a sort of indie-Americana sound gravitates more to a personal level version of the Walkabouts, Seattle’s legendary proprietors of the movement. Oddly enough, his voice is somewhere in between Marc Bolan circa his folk era and those of the Jayhawks brand of country-rock. It’s surprising to hear songs that are so complete and intact in a debut album by an artist who previously played in a drastically different style. Call it elasticity, or call it a songwriter responding to his inner voice, either way the album is astonishingly mature and full sounding. I’d almost liken it to the Decemberists, without the prog leanings, but with one person instead of seven or eight (this is especially true on the cello-laden "The Time has Come"). With three songs titled "Summer Song" scattered over the album, and subjects given to generalities personal in nature ("Today," "Everything I Do," and "Kind Words") there is a certain amount of self-reflection here that shows Woodruff growing as both a person and songwriter. His strongest point, however, is his guitar playing, especially when it’s as lovely as the work on "Summer Song I" (with additional guitarist Josh Haupt). --d.n.l
THE SHAKES
The Rise and Fall of Modern Living
Teenacide
This L.A. quartet has a severe hard-on for British pop circa the mid-60s. With their great assimilation of classic Who and Kinks, right down to Brit accents on the vocals and sympathetic instrumentation, they'll leave hardcore power pop fans with a big smile on their faces. The Shakes score high with authentic efforts at assembling a group of songs that feel great. With all the lame bands resurrecting the worst aspects of the 80s, bands like the Shakes have got it absolutely right. Chills-down-the-spine stuff! --Kevin Mathews
SISTER HAZEL
Absolutely
Croakin’ Poets
Over the past dozen years or so, Gainesville’s Sister Hazel has survived the standard vagaries of the music industry and the indifference of the broader commercial market to find an enthusiastic audience through a relentless road ethic and a savvy internet presence. On Absolutely, the band’s sixth studio album, they continue to effectively blend elements of indie and Southern rock, creating an appealing sound that suggests Live and Edwin McCain jacked up on 38 Special and .moe. The rockers sizzle and pop, the ballads float along on edgy musical currents and occasionally drift into each other’s territory, all of it woven tight with crack musicianship and an effortless sense of melodicism. If there’s nothing about Absolutely that is groundbreaking on a mainstream level, it’s because Sister Hazel may well have learned from their major label experience that it’s better to consistently please hardcore fans than to compromise for the ephemeral sugar rush of appealing to the fickle masses for a single successful album. Absolutely is another Sister Hazel album that fans -- self-dubbed Hazelnuts -- will embrace wholeheartedly and requires no further validation than that for the band to consider it an unqualified success. Perhaps that should be the model for rock bands of every stripe in the new millennium. --Brian Baker
SOPHE LUX
Waking the Mystics
Zarathustra
I imagine a young Todd Haynes creating saccharine melodramas with Barbie dolls on his bedroom floor as his sister, Gwynneth, peacefully sitting beside him, daydreams of theatrically elaborate songs with equally enamoring narrative skills. Gwynneth Haynes’ childlike naivety shines with unbridled creativity and imagination on Sophe Lux’s Waking the Mystics. Gwynneth shares in her brother’s love of rich political and philosophical undertones, affinity for the 1970s, and rampant subversiveness, creating music completely contrary to today's musical palate. Waking the Mystics plays like a glam rock mini-opera in humble reverence to Bowie, Ferry, and Reed, tinged with hints of Broadway, vaudeville, folk and psychedelia, brilliantly exemplified in tracks such as “Marie-Antoinette Robot 2073” and "God Doesn't Take American Express." I would be forever dissappointed if Sophe Lux did not perform these songs in lavishly histrionic costumes backed with ornate and opulent sets. -- Don Simpson
SUPERHOPPER
Party Killers
Guilt Ridden Pop
Partying is a theme familiar to most rock acts. Minnesota’s Superhopper compiles the pros and cons of vices and excess in their latest effort, Party Killers. “Kermit Hates Music” kicks off a series of energetic songs that keep one’s feet stomping and spirits high throughout. “It’s Alright, It’s Okay” and “Excuses On Parade” draw on punk and power-pop equally while standout track “When You’re Down and Out (in Minneapolis)” builds from a guitar flurry into a full-on anthem enveloped by cheery vocal harmonies. “Bling Bling” and “Friends” continue in the vein of Superdrag-meets-Guided By Voices to generate enduring guitar rock with baa baa baa pop chorus and just a touch of punk attitude, a niche that marks the strength of Superhopper. Album closer, “Eye Of The Tiger Applies To Everything,” fittingly features refrains of “This is the way victory sounds”; this band can feel triumphant in their cause of enhancing the state of high octane rock n’ roll in this world. -- Adi Anand
SWELL MAPS
Wastrels & Whippersnappers
Overground / UK Import
The Swell Maps have had, perhaps, the biggest afterlife of any cult band I know of. With only two albums proper during the band’s lifetime, and an additional two-record set pieced together at their demise, there’s been several albums more that mined their massive catalog of home recordings, with varying quality but mostly amazing music. With this release, from their earlier 1974-‘77 period, that loud scraping you hear is the figurative scraping of the barrel’s bottom. Pieced together by bassist Jowe Head for this English label, the sound quality is about what you’d expect for ‘70s era home recordings (patchy) and, as far as songs go, there are some in here, but mostly it’s all bits of this and that scrounged together, some extremely short, others a bit long on nothing. That’s not to say there aren’t the odd moments of magic, but they are few and far between. None of the songs seem completed, and most are either jam sessions that evolve in and out of song or bits where they make interesting noises into some kind of songs (the sheep sound and drums/guitar of "Sheep Police/Septipede" for example). Even as a hardcore Maps/Nikki/Epic fan I have a hard time imagining anyone not already heavily into the band getting any enjoyment out of this. Aside from historical perspective for the devoted and excellent liner notes by both Jowe Head and Nikki Sudden (before he passed away last March) there is very little to recommend about this...making this the first negative review I’ve ever given anything Maps related! --d.n.l
JEAN SYNODINOS
Breathe
Fortunate
Tiny gestures like the brush of a finger or side-glance can speak volumes. Jean Synodinos is adept at turning such gestures, and even mundane moments like waiting at a traffic signal, into philosophical songs that incorporate jazz touches along with a tough blend of organic folk and blues rock. Her lilting inflection and Charles Rieser’s tasty guitar on “Leave My Mark” is a standout, along with the title track, which is concerned about the human condition. Synodinos and her band, featuring multi-instrumentalist Brad Houser and percussionist Rob Hooper, know how to rock tough, especially on “Drop My End Of The Bone” and the rockabilly version of “Yes (a.m.)” that opens up her sophomore release. The latter track, reprised in a sticky late night version at the end of “Breathe,” is a powerful affirmation of libido in spite of political upheavals in the country. Elsewhere, Synodinos comes off as Eliza Gilkyson in a cracked leather jacket on “Misfits on Parade” and her out-of-left field cover of Led Zeppelin’s '75 classic “Houses Of The Holy.” It's probably no surprise that sometimes she is (as she admits) the loudest person in the room. – David Pyndus
URBAN LEGENDS
Of Old Lost Days
Contraphonic
Armed with bucketloads of fuzzy tape hiss and a penchant for lo-fi psychedelic pop melodies, Hutch Harris (Thermals, Haelah) created Urban Legends in his San Jose living room in 1996. The lifespan of the Urban Legends spanned a sporadic six years and a total discography of a seven-song cassette (Cycle), an EP (Dance and Burn), and a couple 7” releases, most of which are now urban legends in their own right. Contraphonic, bless their souls, have now finally demystified the Legends, compiling rare and unreleased material representative of their entire evolution. Of Old Lost Days ranges from brilliant lo-fi nuggets reminiscent of early Guided By Voices and Tall Dwarfs to hints of the humble four-track beginnings of The Thermals. Harris’ melodies will rubber cement themselves to your brain and tracks such as “Electric Heat,” “Party for as Long as You Can,” and “We Partied Here Enough” will leave your head spinning as you contemplate why Urban Legends never took flight among indie rock aficionados ala GBV. --Don Simpson
VARIOUS ARTISTS
2. Contamination: A Tribute to David Bowie
Failure to Communicate Records
These days, you run over two or three new tribute albums just backing out of your driveway in the morning. Dozens of them a year. Sometimes they're all big-name artists. Sometimes money goes to charity. Sometimes they're chock full of big names. Sometimes they're label stables of artists who are mainly unknown. In the absence of a press release, I can't tell you very much about this project. Two discs, several dozen covers of David Bowie songs, and nary an artist that I've heard of before. Musically, it ranges between alternative, hardcore, and emo (all outmoded labels, I know, I know). Some radical re-imaginings of songs, some faithful recreations. Much of it is actually quite valid and listenable. What really shines through is how terrific the songs are, and how the songs hold up, even in lesser renditions and radical new arrangements by no-name artists. It's often easy to overlook just what a brilliant songwriter Bowie is, with his charm, good looks, chameleon-like image changes, and eclectic musical stylings. A good tribute album should ultimately stand or fall on how good a job it does in celebrating an artist's music. And this one does that quite well. Still, even as a fairly serious, hardcore Bowie fan (since 1971), this probably isn't an album I'll turn to when I want to hear Bowie songs. But, younger listeners should probably ignore me and give this a listen, it might well serve to turn them on to one of our generation's greatest talents. --Kent H. Benjamin
VARIOUS ARTISTS
8-BIT Operators (Music of Kraftwerk)
Astralwerks
Kraftwerk have got to be, along with Abba, one of the most covered bands ever--from Big Black to the Balanescu Quartet, and the disc worth of Slovenian bands on the Mute label a decade ago. Considering the nature of the last few Kraftwerk releases, it has almost seemed as though they are covering themselves (especially the enjoyably pointless album The Mix). So to suggest that I might be a bit weary of the concept, in light of the fact that tribute albums more than double the total output of Kraftwerk in the last 20 years, is an understatement. What makes this one different, however, is the presence of the 8-bit sensation that is supposedly sweeping the Internet, where people are using their own primitive home technologies (Gameboys, Atari’s, etc.) to make the music. That and the fact that the contributors come from a very diverse mix of countries (Sweden, Argentina, Austria, and Switzerland along with the UK, USA and Germany) make the results interesting. Fortunately, as well, the artists don’t restrict their cover choices to the last few Kraftwerk albums, picking obscure older titles to go with common choices, helping this tribute to stand out from the pack. --d.n.l
VARIOUS ARTISTS
The Harry Smith Project: Anthology Of American Folk Music Revisited
Shout! Factory
The shellac 78s have taken on the significance of Moses’ stone tablets among musicologists. The scratchy records have been credited with giving Bob Dylan his basic foundation for lyrical exploration, and revitalizing fading blues careers in the years after the 1952 release of the original Smithsonian six-record set. This double disc collection, compiled from a series of live shows honoring archivist Harry Smith, gets off to a rollicking start with David Johansen's take on “Old Dog Blue” and the pairing of artist and song throughout is generally spot on. Lou Reed has long been associated with modern urban blues, but to hear his apocalyptic take on “See That My Grave Is Kept Clean” is another perfect match. Some of these old porch songs are faithfully rendered; others are approached from a tad more experimental state of mind, although simple electrification is enough to send purists over the edge. A fraction of the riches: Steve Earle backed by Bill Frisell’s guitar on “Prison Cell Blues”; Wilco reverting to its rootsy A.M. days on “James Alley Blues”; and Beth Orton performing the stunning heartbreaker “Frankie.” But it ain’t all blues. Beck channels Robert Johnson on “Last Fair Deal Gone Down”; Roswell Rudd fronts Sonic Youth on a horn-drenched and out-there avant garde take on “Dry Bones”; and Marianne Faithfull somberly delivers “Spike Driver Blues.” Okay, maybe it is mostly blues, but somewhere Harry Smith is smiling over these terrific performances. “My dream came true,” Smith once famously said, “I saw America changed through music.” Now the songs are ready for a new generation. (Also: Note a combo CD-DVD set is available for those wishing to relive the dream visually.) – David Pyndus
