http://blogcritics.org/ A sinister cabal of superior bloggers on music, books, film, popular culture, politics, and technology - updated continuously. en Copyright 2005-2007 by the authors Wed, 21 May 2003 13:01:39 EDT http://backend.userland.com/rss Blogcritics.org custom software http://blogcritics.org/ Phillip WinnSunday, August 26, 2007, marks the switch of all Blogcritics.org article feeds from full-content to short-content. This is the result of several converging factors, and is unfortunately a permanent decision (as permanent as any decision can be on the web, that is). We are aware of all of the reasons that this is a Bad Idea, and we are aware that some of you will be quite upset about having to click on something to read the free content, and we're sorry. Unfortunately, despite great effort, full-content feeds are not currently economically viable. Two other factors are involved: full-content feeds have resulted in an unprecedented level of content theft, with BC content appearing on many websites, usually spam sites, without attribution or permission. This duplicate content causes a cascading set of problems, not the least of which is that search engines generally aren't favorable to duplicate content, and don't always guess correctly. Finally, our RSS advertising partner is strongly in favor of short-content feeds. We hope that you'll continue to subscribe to BC via RSS, and when an article grabs your eye, it's only a click away, still free on the BC website. Thank you for your understanding. Administration0@blogcritics.org Sun, 26 Aug 2007 12:00:00 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2003/05/21/130139.php nathanlottYo La Tengo: Summer Sun The dissonance between the album's title, Summer Sun, and the jacketed bandmembers on its blurred cover photo hints at the melancholy persistent on Yo La Tengo's most recent recording. It's a formula the Hoboken trio perfected with 2001's And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out: numerous downtempto numbers permeated by a sweet, almost self-conscious sadness (hence the cheer-up-champ lyrics on "Season of the Shark") that is occasionally forgotten altogether on a few rollicking tracks (in this case, clustered in the latter half and including the whimsically titled "Georgia Vs. Yo La Tengo" and "Moonrock Mambo"). In an interview for NPR's Morning Edition to promote And Then Nothing..., a reporter asked about the band's follow-up plans. Georgia Hubley* intoned, almost pleadingly, "instrumental record." She proved prescient, and within a year YLT self-released Sounds of the Sounds of Silence, the soundtrack to a all-underwater sea-life documentary. The soundtrack seemed to exorcise their guitar demons (alternating droning and squealing guitarwork characterized the band in the1980s and 90s). The band's 2002 Billboard Top 10 EP featuring Sun Ra's "Nuclear War" (in mp3), complete with a chorus of cursing schoolchildren, also relieved some pent-up angst--and was good for a few laughs ("Push that button, your ass got to go. What you gone do, without your ass?") while the rest of the world was talking about, well, nukes and war. Having thus gratified their experimental urges and held their tongues (or rather, pens) for a while, YLT set out to record Summer Sun. Their interest in avant jazz and improvisation remains vital, however, to what is arguably the bands most lyric-driven record. To lay down the album, YLT and long-time producer Roger Moutenot were joined by more than a half-dozen artists (including members of the Jazz improve collective Other Dimensions in Music) who added horns, strings, flute, and upright bass to YLT's standard guitars-organs-drums lineup on several tracks. Ironically, considering the recording took place in Nashville, the pedal steel appears only once--the closer "Take Care," a Big Star cover. What might be considered the album's musical opus, "Let's Be Still," shines thanks to trumpeter Roy Campbell Jr., who evokes Miles and Chet with clear tone and languid phrasing. photo © Matthew Salacuse. After almost two decades as rock-and-roll anti-stars, Yo La Tengo--particularly Georgia and bandmate/husband Ira Kaplan--seems uncharacteristically satisfied retreading musical ground in order to build compositions around lyrics, rather than vice versa (the buried vocals on"Beach Party Tonight" excepted). The past three YLT "official" Matador albums have progressed toward nuance rather than novelty. The lyrics on Summer Sun, or many of them, are confessional and delivered with an air of resignation punctuated by a sense of relief, as if the time has finally come to sing them. Personal lyrics and the theme of seasons--and of emotional seasons, perhaps depression--abound, and measured arrangements push the sincere lyrics to the fore. Over electric guitar and shaker on "Tiny Birds," James McNew sings "Don't be sad when it's time to say good night. I'll be there to make sure that you sleep tight. I'm your friend when you need a friend, until there's nothing left in the world to make you cry." On "Little Eyes" Georgia, bolstered by Ira's falsetto and steady drum beat, coos "You can only hurt the ones you love, not the ones your thinking of." A scratchy loop is blanketed with piano and bass guitar on the tellingly-titled "Don't Have to Be Sad." Ira sings/mumbles, "Last night, I was trying to read in bed. I got to watching you sleep instead. Even when I got tired, I couldn't stop. Because I love you so, and I pray you know. But I'm not one for praying. You knew I couldn't say that without making a joke." Even when they're despondent, YLT can have fun and be funny, as on "Nothing But You and Me," when Ira begs "Won't you please come back to me?" like a timid R&B crooner over a metronome-like drum machine--or on the more lighthearted "How to Make a Baby Elephant Float," when he explains "I like to hold hands when we walk, I'm not averse to pillow talk, but I prefer a private joke, the memory it evokes, because it's our punchline." Fortunately, YLT increasingly lets fans in on the tears and jokes. *A typical review would identify bandmembers by their instrument, but in the case of Yo La Tengo, any attempt to pin down the multifaceted musicians is futile. Their concerts sometimes resemble a game of musical chairs. Music5493@blogcritics.org Wed, 21 May 2003 13:01:39 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2003/02/11/141337.php nathanlottFontanelle makes music by seance, gathering around a drum set and channeling the spirit of Sun Ra through an Atari console. Okay, not really, but that would explain their aural alchemy on Style Drift. This Oregon quartet concocts a musical hybrid of jazz, funk, and electronica by augmenting their guitars and keyboards with an array of computer-driven sonic manipulation. Oftentimes, the only recognizable instrument is the drum kit; other times, a keyboard sounds like a keyboard or a wah-wah guitar lick comes through. It's a fluid sound that members Andy Brown and Rex Ritter had just begun to cultivate with Jessamine when that formerly drone-rock ensemble dispersed, and it has flowered in the course of three instrumental releases.Fontanelle's music is consistently driving and funky, but also minimalist, even ambient. Notably absent are pulsing techno basslines, slapped funk bass, and post-rock bass melodies, all of which would fit right in on various tracks. Mind, the album isn't top-heavy. However, it's the frequent absence of those familiar and often monotonous bass templates that gives Fontanelle room to work. In particular, it lends the compositions an improvisational air. Ornette Coleman might have made this record, if he had played the laptop, or Herbie Hancock if he had stayed the instrumental course in the '70s. And the latter comparison isn't novel, the band purportedly records in a manner similar to the Silent-Way era Miles Davis group: heavily editing extended improvisations into final compositions--pioneer remixes, one might sayInterslices, the opener--available, though mis-spelled, at epitonic.com courtesy of the tech-friendly Kranky label--establishes the bands use of space and timing to create tension, which is always welcome, provided release follows. The composition retains the listeners interest with a measure of unpredictability, an almost reckless improvisation, but satisfies with a driving refrain. Next, on "Just, Go, Crazy" a snippet of the keyboard melody bears a personally disconcerting resemblence to the Steve Miller Band's "Fly Like an Eagle." Though the track is an otherwise pleasing concoction, and, along with the succinct and bubbly "Red Light, Green Light," of the album's more upbeat. Note: that's not frenetic. Although Fontanelle interweaves multiple rhythms and melodies so that each track is a sonic collage, they run a greater risk of floundering than flailing. For example, "Scissure" never quite arrives as a composition. It merely ambles along. A similar aimlessness resurfaces on the twelve-minute title track, albeit briefly. The handclaps that begin the song intimate a playfullness throughout, and a funky guitar and fuzzy keys sew together seemingly independent jams. Is that a guitar or a steel drum? Is that R2-D2? This is what the muppet band in Star Wars should have sounded like.The eight-minute closer, "Monday Morning," makes liberal use of ambient electronic texture and what well might be a miniature Casio keyboard, but a meandering bass guitar and steady cymbal work keep things moving. The standout song? "James Going," right in the middle, displays the quartet at it's tightest. Music3134@blogcritics.org Tue, 11 Feb 2003 14:13:37 EST http://blogcritics.org/archives/2003/02/03/135847.php nathanlottDouglas McCombs's third CD under the Brokeback moniker displays more (conventional) song structure than its precursors, yet retains an airy, almost lazy feel. Again, McCombs's Fender six-string bass is prominent and the contributing musicians amount to a veritable who's who of the Soma/Chicago sound: multi-instrumentalist/producer John McEntire of Tortoise (McCombs's musical alma mater); bassist Noel Kupersmith, drummer Chad Taylor, and cornetist Rob Mazurek of Chicago Underground Duo/Trio/Quartet; vocalists Laetitia Sadier and Mary Hansen (who was tragically killed on her bicycle in December) of Stereolab; and Japanese flautist/reed organist Aki Tsuyuko. "From the Black Current" (berry punny name?) opens with bowed upright bass and the six-string electric--the eerie twang that carries the albums melodies. It sounds like Ennio Morricone on downers, as does much of the album. Although the orchestration that follows is more complex, the opener establishes a characteristic use of space and tension; while not exactly menacing, it's not quite music from the heart of space, or jazz, or rock. Next, "Lupe" adds electronic blips and bleeps and a marimba (?) loop. Electronics, particularly static soundscapes, resurface, but the dominant sounds are more organic than most soma studios releases--the drums are brushed, not looped. . "Lupe" also features Mazurek's cornet (whose performances in such structured settings as this or his own Quartet best his free-form Duo improvisations). "Name's Winston, Friends Call Me James" introduces whispery Stereolab oohs and aahs, and "Everywhere Down Here," a standout melody, features decidedly wistful electric guitar over more bowed bass. "In the Reeds" manages a dreamier, almost sublime feel, with a sparse string arrangement and a flute as well as an upbeat (relatively speaking) tick-tock bass line. "50 guitars" opens with a strummed harp ą la the Cinematic Orchestra; despite the name, a single guitar weaves the melodic thread through this sparse composition. Next, Brokeback's rendition of the Tortoise's "The Suspension Bridge at Iguaza Falls," a satisfying, if succinct, composition of swells and releases. Again there is the slightest hint of a Western score: A militaristic snare drum heightens the tension, as if a showdown looms. (It is a slight irony that this tune should emerge a post-rock standard, while the last Tortoise album, Standards, contained so little of similar merit.) "The Wind-Up Bird" (named for the Haruki Murakami novel?) juxtaposes minimalist staticy electronic blips and meandering twang. The hybridization works, if unremarkably, because of the space between the sounds. Throughout the course of Looks at the Bird McCombs leaves notes hanging in the air. The closer, "Pearls Dream," is taken from the film, The Night of the Hunter. It is really two songs fused together, somewhat awkwardly. It begins with a rumbling bass solo (the six-string tends to fuzz in the lower registers) and ends with an unusually abstract vocal vignette about houseflys atop shimmering guitar and vibraphone. Unsurprisingly, Looks at the Birds recalls the earlier, less computer-driven Tortoise, but it also calls to mind guitar-oriented instrumental acts Scenic and Lanterna. These lackadaisical tunes don't demand attention, but are sufficiently complex in their orchestration to warrant repeat listening. Though not aggressive, their melodies are persistent, and the album's lazy feel suits its timeless quality. Music2989@blogcritics.org Mon, 3 Feb 2003 13:58:47 EST http://blogcritics.org/archives/2002/10/04/122051.php nathanlottThe Birmingham Public Library has, luckily, a respectable catalog of jazz recordings, I've taken to dropping by occasionally to broaden my horizons. Generally, my selections predate my own interest in the music, if not my existence. Last week however, I picked up the latest from Charlie Hunter, released last year - young enough to merit a review, I feel. Musically, Songs from the Analog Playground evokes jazz-funk and soul-jazz/boogaloo, but cleanly and often using a bop template with constrained space for solos. (Courtney Pine has managed similar references without sounding dated.) Hunter, an 8-string guitar virtuoso, is able to carry both basslines and melody, which is fortunate because an additional electric bass would leave the record heavier on funk and lighter on jazz, and an acoustic vice versa. Hunter's fretwork interplays with the tenor saxophone of John Ellis, at points to emulate horn lines (as in the song Rhythm Music Rides Again). At other points his guitar work briefly calls organs to mind (Run for It). The versatility of this outfit is part of its appeal.Ellis is by turns soulful (Day is Done) and energetic (Run for It), but doesn't freelance. So, the songs stay where they belong, in the groove. And how groovy, thanks to two percussionists: Stephen Chopek on the kit and then some and Chris Lovejoy on the congas and still more. (The two have their own record, and Chopek is now on tour with John Mayer.) The album's myriad percussion instruments and rhythms are showcased on the remarkably tight Percussion Shuffle. Each member of the quartet is credited with playing the agogo bells. Fitting then that Mos Def should incorporate Brazillianesque vocal stylings into the opener, Street Sounds, which references Carnival with its name and rhythmic layers. The rapper also appears on the song Creole - as a soulful crooner. His convincing, irony-free delivery alternates with some of Ellis's best playing on one of the album's simplest yet strongest cuts. A two tone (long, short) counterpoint underscores the track and unmistakably calls to mind Miles Davis's Kind of Blue opener So What. Three other guest vocalists deliver two songs each. Norah Jones offers the best by far. The promising young vocalist renders Roxy Music's More than This as a beautiful, soft samba and closes the record with Nick Drake's Day is Done. New Orlean's music vet Theryl de'Clouet of Galactic lends his strong pipes to Earth, Wind, & Fire's Mighty Mighty and Willie Dixon's Spoonful - using a cooler delivery the latter song, which Cream covered. If I can give or take de'Clouet's blues contribution to...Analog Playground, Kurt Elling's beatnik rant Desert Way is downright distracting. Elling's unique poetry-slam/scat-singer crooning would have fit right in on Roy Nathanson's story album Fire at Keaton's Bar & Grill. Here, however, it feels misplaced. This isn't a remarkably coherent record, but the beat-poet bit still seems dated alongside the dominant '60s and '70s references. Elling's punchy take on the bebop standard Close Your Eyes is, however, more at home. One reason may be the percussion refrain - agogo bells - that surfaces on this and several other tracks. Rhythm music rides again, indeed.Ultimately, the album's instrumentals are what hold my attention. Hunter and company manage to jam with a relaxed air, but the arrangements are tightly knit. The melodies meander but return to touchstone refrains, and the ever-present percussion drive them onward. Music1084@blogcritics.org Fri, 4 Oct 2002 12:20:51 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2002/09/09/161049.php nathanlottMy wife bought this album after we saw/heard the band interviewed on CBS and NPR. I was a little skeptical, but maybe only because I wasn't really paying attention. The networks played up the story of how Dan Messe assembled Hem thanks in part to a demo of lullabies given him by now vocalist Sally Ellyson (read more at the band's website), a fine tale but no guarantor of a successful debut release. Memorable, melodic songwriting and precise arrangements are a good start, however, and with those Rabbit Songs garnered my attention. As a female-fronted band driven by a male songwriter, Hem has more in common with pop outfits like Sixpence None the Richer and Ivy than femme folkies like Gillian Welch. Sonically, however, the band has an undeniable folk/Americana aesthetic, which merits comparison to other neo-twang acts like Tarnation, Mojave 3, and Lambchop (as distinct from alt-country groups like Uncle Tupelo and it's offspring). These bands benefit from an outsider-ears phenomenon, meaning they don't have folk or country and western backgrounds, and/or audiences, and/or record labels. (Brooklyn-based Hem couldn't get further "outside" the realm of rural America without moving to Tokyo.) Consequently, they are less cloistered by habit and expectations, empowered to borrow only the sounds and styles that drew them to American roots music. They lean toward minimalist arrangements, subtly employing the evocative twang of steel guitar or banjo while avoiding the cliches of the genre(s). That Messe and company have an ear for C & W nuance is apparent at the first strain of pedal steel, which intertwines gracefully with violin beneath Ellyson's tender-voiced delivery on "When I Was Drinking," a recovering alcoholic's semi-nostalgic retrospective on a doomed romance. Hem's measured use of violin (in this setting fiddle might be more appropriate nomenclature, but I defer to the liner notes) and mandolin lend an Appalachian air to the record. Though, by taking a cue from Down From the Mountain, et al. and pushing harmonizing vocals to the fore on more tracks Hem could achieve a fuller sound without straying from their chosen idiom. When evident the harmonies shine, as on "Horsey," and the comparatively rousing chorus of "Night Like a River," the lone sampling of mandolin player Steve Curtis's songwriting. Hem uses strings and woodwinds (oboe, clarinet, flute) liberally, but not to excess. From the understated atmospherics of "Betting on Trains" to the euphoric heights of "Stupid Mouth Shut," the arrangements melt with piano, guitar, and most importantly vocals. All too often musicians, perhaps enamored with the possibilities of studio recording, swirl these elements in an ecstatic din. On Rabbit Songs, by contrast, Hem demonstrates a fine collective ear for what constitutes "just enough." (Guitarist/songwriter, Gary Maurer, may deserve particular credit for his roles in production, recording, and mixing.) The end result is that the music bolsters, rather than obfuscates, the songwriting, which is after all the stuff of folk music. Similarly, Ellyson's delivery is, at it's best, soft yet evocative. Lyrically, Messe alternates between poetic imagery, often nostalgic, and more straightforward storytelling. With "Lazy Eye" he makes of the physical condition a metaphor for persistent memory: "I can still see the hem of your dress and the comb as it's parting your hair, and the person I held is still there in my lazy eye..." In "All That I'm Good For," he parallels a strung-along lover and a stray dog: "You know I play with all those strays prowling outside your door. It's the scraps of love you throw my way that have got me on all fours. It's only fair your knew, all that I'm good for is you." Some songs, and some lines, are more striking than others, and a few lyrics are simply vehicles for melody. Yet, when combined with selective instrumentation the end result is a surprisingly memorable album, given that it doesn't demand your attention. Music: Country and Americana491@blogcritics.org Mon, 9 Sep 2002 16:10:49 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2002/08/20/181844.php nathanlott  Recognizing that the arbitrary discrimination against webcasters perpetuated by the congressionally empowered CARP (Copyright Arbitration Royalty Panel) and mitigated insufficiently by the Librarian of Congress, U.S. Representatives Jay Inslee (D-WA), George Nethercutt (R-WA), and Rick Boucher (D-VA) have introduced the Internet Radio Fairness Act. These legislators recognize that quasi-communist regulatory excess swallowed net radio and regurgitated nyet radio.   I first lambasted the CARP procedure on May 21 and the Librarian's decision on June 21. I'll let you read my archived posts, rather than trying to rekindle my ire here. But allow me to recap my arguments: 1) There is no reason the delivery method of a radio station (Internet or airwaves) should impact its royalty fees--listenership should do that. 2) The airwaves are public property--regulation is premised upon that--and the public allowed consolidation of the airwaves by corporations on the promise that Internet radio would supplement the airwaves with some real variety. Disallowing that now is disingenuous. 3) The recording industry, embittered by growing file-trading online, has decided to stop Internet radio before it starts, despite the fact that it is a very different (i.e. temporal) medium. Regulators should not fall prey to their irrationality.   If you feel compelled to hear the copyright holders' (not necessarily the artists' I might add) side of the story, read this RIAA FAQ. However, I'm afraid they shoot themselves in the foot with questions 10 and 11. Either they really aren't worried about traditional radio, or--almost by their own admission--they're picking on webcasters in lieu of a costlier battle with traditional radio's mega-conglomerates. If they're not worried about traditional radio (and why should they be when 75+ years of broadcasting hasn't put them out of business), then they are, as I've posited previously, merely paranoid.   The RIAA FAQ claims the CARP and Librarian agree that Internet radio has no promotional value. Ludicrous. Perhaps not a significant value to the RIAA, given 'net radio's dinky market share, but I can personally attest to discovering artists and/or albums online and subsequently purchasing their/the work. If anything, the potential for webcasters to link to online retailers should make the recording industry salivate. Moreover, Internet radio is an antidote to illegal mp3 trading. Obviously, it can be regulated; while song swapping persists sans Napster. The RIAA ought to rejoice and facilitate webcasting, not declare it a punching bag.   The system's patently disproportionate regulation of webcasters (versus broadcasters) has already closed numerous fledgling web stations. Yet, even as government bureaucracy attempts to distance citizens from their technology, technology facilitates citizen feedback to government. Even if you're not yet an I-radio listener, fax your congressional representatives in support of the IRFA, simply for the sake of government accountability. Culture160@blogcritics.org Tue, 20 Aug 2002 18:18:44 EDT