by embrys
i must confess that kangaroo is not the sort of group that i should be reviewing. their music is probably too close to the kind of music that i wish i were doing, and so the things that they do differently kinda bother me. which is pretty stupid. i’ll elaborate a little after i summarize my thoughts on the record.
songs (french) is a finely crafted collection of finely crafted songs, presented in a clean and unfussy production style courtesy of one dan wilson (perhaps you’ve heard of him).
the sound ranges from songs like “97 days a week”, which is very much in the big star/badfinger vein, to “eternity here” which enters a ben foldsish territory. kangaroo has a nice touch with the more anthemic styles, reminiscent of jellyfish on “champagne”, and the all-out power ballad. “including but limited to love.” check out “too far out” on the roxxor player (look over to the left) for something on the folky side.
in short, with songs (french) you can expect hook-laden, straightforward pop. it is refreshing to hear people continuing this sort of eric carmen style craft of songwriting, though i wouldn’t say there are any jawdropping moments here.
i especially dig that the whole cd clocks in at under 41 minutes. that’s about the length of an old-school LP, and really as long as a recording needs to be if you intend for the collection to be listened to in one sitting.
it’s hard not to hear the guiding hand of producer dan wilson on this cd. in addition to bringing along his former semisionic comrade john munson for some trombone (!), wilson played some guitars, percussion and sang some background vocals. in fact some of the guitar solos have a certain wilsonesque quality to them. that said, i think wilson manages to pretty much stay out of the way of the songs and the performances. the record sounds very clear and to the point. almost like a demo, but by no means lo-fi.
overall, a satisfying collection of solid pop music that recalls 70’s pop of eric carmen, big star and badfinger. i don’t feel that there’s a lot of new ground being broken here, but i would be quite interested in seeing what kangaroo is like in performance. i would hope that kangaroo has some grit in there somewhere, because that is what’s missing from a record that owes so much to big star; even the raspberries were raunchier than these guys!
davina & the vagabonds | songs from thomas ave.
by Clark des Artbruts | isroxxor_seattle
I guess it’s typical that fate would dictate my introduction to isroxxor.com and its surrounding chummy music community be an awkward one. “Songs From Thomas Ave.” is a very nice record, undoubtedly made by some very nice people. Clearly everyone worked very hard on it, and have much to be proud of. I’m certain that they fill a particular niche on the local scene, and are much appreciated by their fans. However, I’ve been recruited for this task by people who know me well enough to know that when I go out looking for music, I’m not looking to be soothed, much less to make friends. Therefore, let us begin to examine the work at hand more closely.
This somewhat charming, atmospheric homage to retro American jazz and blues-flavored pop which will not sound unfamiliar to the ears of anyone over 40, enjoys a - clean no-frills production, live sound, and workmanlike performances by everyone involved. It’s music that’s non-threatening enough that it would offend no one in a middle class entertainment setting such as a restaurant or winery; however, it bears little resemblance to the violently passionate music it claims as its influence. Nobody would get into a drunken knife fight over this music – maybe they’d send back their steak au poivre as being undercooked.
Vocalist Davina Sowers certainly has the chops to convey the many-colored nuances of early Americana pop music – her delivery is reminiscent of 70’s singer-songwriters such as Carole King whose blues gestures to this day come across as heartfelt if naïve. There’s a studious attention to inflection and timing, but there just isn’t very much blood in it. It’s almost a literary exercise, as one can observe in the lyrics of tracks like “Death (in G Minor)”. For want of better analogies, it strikes one as Madeleine Peiroux without the cigarettes and absinthe, Amy Winehouse without the heroin, Michelle Shocked Without the teargas, Maria McKee without the whiskey and crucifixes. [When the latter sings “you’ve got to sin to be saved”, you get the feeling she knows something about both.] Sowers’ piano playing is supportive, but equally incidental – to paraphrase Tom Waits, it’s as if her piano has been drinking herb tea.
Her accompanying musicians stand equally as solid and unadventurous; the sax solo by Zack Lozier in “Crosseyed” is articulate but perhaps less than brilliant, coming in oddly placed at one and a half minutes into a five minute song, which itself wouldn’t have suffered from a bit of editing down. He cuts loose a little more interestingly in “Sick and Tired”, but overall comes across rather academic. His playing is, as we used to say in the biz, very “studio” – not a false note in it, and perhaps that’s exactly the problem. The rhythm section of Michael Carvale and John Lund hangs together with the necessary fluidity of the genres borrowed from here, but not very much of the drive or urgency.
The other thing that’s a bit of a problem for people with some previous exposure to period styled music is the appearance of a few niggling little anachronisms. For instance, it’s a bit cognitively dissonant to hear bebop soloing over depression era jazz, as in “5 Foot 2”. Fortunately the track is somewhat improved by Sowers deciding to (so it seems) hit the bottle before singing, making it slightly more convincing. On “Rotten Gal” Sowers actually comes close to selling the lyric “don’t tell me I can’t sing the blues” – if only the band could keep up with her, and if only the person manning the mixing board didn’t decide to put some kind of weird compression effect on her vocal to make it sound like she was using an antique microphone. The song encapsulates all the promise of this outing as well as the disappointment. By the time we get to “Bee Sting” it sounds like Sowers has lost patience and fired everyone but the standup player, and is staring at the empty bottle in her hand wondering what happened. Then she deals out some realistic roadhouse piano on “Love” and a satisfying vocal performance, the rhythm section seems to wake up and actually find their limbs, and Lozier surprisingly plays an actual solo that develops rather than a bunch of scales strung together. If “Love” represents the way they pull it off live, I might actually enjoy their stage show. For a band like the Vagabonds, I think recording their music in the wild is likely to bring out their strengths far more than the museum-like qualities of the studio.
roma di luna | casting the bones
by embrys
listening to the new release from roma di luna is like stumbling into a band's rehearsal studio just as they're discovering something for the first time. the atmosphere is intimate, the performances have a relaxed and organic quality to them, and the overall effect is entrancing. there's something of film noir to the aesthetic here, reminiscent of certain tom waits or neko case records, although roma di luna seem more traditionalist at their core.
roma di luna began as the duo of channy and alexei moon caselle, performing old-time traditional folk music at farmer's markets before evolving into a more original outfit with additional musicians. on casting the bones, roma di luna sound and feel like a band, and though the roots of their music remain traditional, their more adventurous songs are the high points of the recording. it is on these songs, mostly sung by channy moon caselle, that the atmospheric and live production by ben durrant (andrew bird, dosh) gives a newfound presence and dimension to roma di luna's sound.
the overall impression i'm left from casting the bones is that roma di luna is in undergoing a transformation into something amazing, but this recording catches them in between two personalities. the traditional acoustic duo remains at the root of their sound for many tracks, but on songs like "the romance of the wolves", "tamar" and "wildfire" roma di luna soar to new heights as a band with a singular voice and ambitious vision all their own. i hope roma di luna show enough confidence to continue along this path without looking back.
the smarts | a tribute toby arthur oakland
As I settled in the passenger seat of my boss’s automobile, she set a stack of cds on my lap with A Tribute To on the top. She said, “You’ll like this one. It’s jazz.” *
While I respect my overseer, I find myself disagreeing and imagine Thelonious Monk saying, “That’s not jazz. That’s pop baby. And I dig.” If Donald Fagen and Walter Becker could get outside their Brooklyn egos long enough to choke me, they most certainly would for saying that they are the inventors of “smart pop” and I believe that The Smarts fall right in line.
This album is littered with swing tunes like “What Can I Say?” and “Here I’ll Be” but is nicely complimented with straight ahead grooves like “And The World It Goes” and “Try Another”. The vocals are brilliant and almost Beatlesque with harmonized “oohs” on the song “Passage”.
Jim Kennedy’s piano work is crafty, yet not too crafty. Joe Weisman woos us with straight ahead lines on the basses that leave just enough to be desired. Morris Engel is nothing short of a perfect fit on the drums for this trio.
The Smarts are not anything new and they are not anything old. The Smarts are right here and right now in my living room (and in my player if I ever find myself a date in this crazy town). While I hesitate to call them jazz, I think I can see a future for Jim Kennedy if they ever do a Will and Grace reunion. I do not have a rating system, but will raise my martini glass to A Tribute To.
*editor's note: by "jazz" i meant music that is either unlistenable or far too smart for me. personally i like the smarts AND think it is too smart for me, so i'm still right, as always. -the boss
