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Virginia Music Reviews
Selected Discs
Terri Allard-- Loose Change & Spare Parts
(Reckless Abandon CD, available from P.O. 592, Crozet, Va. 22932.)
Crozet-based singer songwriter Terri Allard’s songs can often be something special, but it often takes several listens to tell. Her second CD, Rough Lines, was a stark and stripped down set of folk-country originals that invited comparisons to national acts like Mary Chapin Carpenter and Shawn Colvin but the smoky-voiced Allard is better, actually. The trouble is that her sometimes “standard countrypolitian” production hides her virtues more than highlights them.
Loose Change & Spare Parts has got a “something for everyone” quality that shows Allard might be learning her way out of the studio, and out of that safe “dinnertime folkie” tag that has (what else?) kept her from getting signed to a major. It’s not as consistent as Rough Lines, and at times it seems a little too eager to connect to certain demographic bases (the shoutout to NPR on the noveltyish “We’ll Have Elvis” is just a bit much) but this third independent effort is maybe her most listenable and accessible work. I could certainly hear the wonderfully evocative “La La Rosie” soaring to the top of somebody’s chart-- achy wah-wah guitar swirling around Allard’s hard-life narrative, Gary Green’s understated (for once) harmonica adding counterpoint-- it’s a killer song and a wonderfully produced track (Allard retains producer Kevin McNoldy and adds her husband Dewayne Evans to the producer’s chair). I have no doubt that others will find “Forbidden Fruit,” “Squeaky Wheel,” or the touching closer, where she gets to show off her voice, “I Don’t Want to Know,” equally as compelling.
A special nod, too, goes to whoever thought of keeping the beautiful “Borrowed Time” as stark and bold as possible.
Ben Arthur-- Curses and Raptures
(Chicken Butter CD available from 612-A Preston Ave., Charlottesville, Va. 22903)
Singer-songwriter Arthur’s debut release boasts an impressive production sound, with more than a few cool songs to match. Even though he has a veritable Central Virginia music mafia backing him (the likes of Tim Reynolds, Kristin Asbury, John D’Earth, Boyd Tinsley, etc.), Curses & Raptures never comes across as one of those showy all-star affairs where bored listeners have to play “spot the solo” to keep from falling asleep-- it’s just Ben and his songs on this Kevin McNoldy-produced outing. That’s a good thing.
A good thing, that is, if you like commercial pop-rock. With a vocal style somewhere between Matthew Sweet and Cat Stevens, the former Shake leader mixes and matches funky beats with impassioned lyrics (“Yesterday’s Faith”), gets into AOR territory with “She Dreams” (soft rock radio could do a lot worse than this, and often does), and likes to have fun in the studio (“Instrumental”). Still, he sounds best when he plugs in and gets pissed off, like on the best cut here “Curses and Raptures,” letting his carefully-crafted melodies say their piece and then fall apart beautifully.
Avail— Over The James
(Lookout! CD available from P.O. Box 11374, Berkeley, CA. 94712-2374)
It’s been proven: Good bands from Richmond, as well as bad bands from Richmond, even (dare I say) mediocre bands from places like Hopewell and Short Pump, simply must name their album after a person, place or thing relating to their hometown of, and near, Virginia’s Capitol City. Scientists are baffled— is it sentimentality? Homage? A sad inability to see beyond a limited, narrow cluster of being?
(It also helps to have 2-5 cuts on said album with titles like “Fan Market” and “Dirtwoman Blues” and “Texas-Wisconsin,” the latter of which would be an instrumental)
Alright, alright. . . I’m thru dumping on Avail. They are one of the good bands mentioned above. They are also from Richmond. A frightful first listen to the new Over The James portended some kind of sellout to Buzz Radio-thought (I still don’t like the guitar sound— it’s the same old Digital wash of bland Buzz-fuzz) but their (sort-of?) concept album about life in R-Town has a bellow that wakes you up at even low crankage. “August” and “Sanctuary 13” have cool riffs, but the song I keep coming back to is “Lombardy Street.” Go figure.
Baaba Seth-- Crazy Wheel
(Butros Butros Groove CD available from 1176 Little Mountain Farm, Charlottesville, Va. 22911)
They’d be the perfect band to perform with Big Bird on Sesame Street around, oh, 1975. That’s part of this popular Central Virginia band’s charm-- the interracial, inter-genre funk-rock-jazz combo do make a hell of a Saturday night, even if one could argue that their chicken-dancin’ good-timin’ doesn’t add up to a hell of a lot when the dancing’s done. If this debut disc doesn’t always translate the band’s good vibes-- the visual as well as the social-- they’ve at least captured the live sonics as well as a damn good horn sound. Butt shakers will dig and they know who they are. . .
Bio Ritmo-- Rumba Baby Rumba
(Mercury 558548 available in local stores)
Has this Richmond-based ensemble kinda gotten boring? In the studio, I mean. Maybe a little too much Mayo Island and not enough barrio, or something, what it is? Here Virginia’s favorite Latin combo sound dancable still, but not really distinctive.
Although this long-awaited national release shows that the Ritmo rhtyhm is still there (and tight)-- and I wouldn’t pass them up on a weekend night if I were you-- why bland out a sound that feeds on spontaneity and eccentricity? What works in Virginia clubs isn’t what’s going to work at the CD listening Bar at $13 a pop, anyway, where your competition is (-should be) the likes of Afro-Cuban All-Stars, Ruben Gonzalez and the oeuvre of Perez Prado. Not to mention a dozen excellent mambo / tango / cubano compilations still in print.
Authenticity does count for something when it comes to Latin musicand this is more than a bit by-the-motions; a regional novelty that will surprise no one; they’ve become the perfect Latin band for your next Frat party, corporate picnic, baby shower, etc.
Still: Don’t pass them up on a Saturday night. This is Virginia.
Aaron Binder -- As Modern As Tomorrow
(CD available from 2402 Kerry Ln. Charlottesville, VA 22901)
I’ll get it over with right now. Charlottesville drummer / bandleader Aaron Binder’s latest album, As Modern As Tomorrow, is one of the best post 1965 jazz albums I’ve heard. NO recent jazz album sounds anywhere near as sincere, as full, and as earnest as this album. So much of what’s out there tries to be modern or tries to be vintage and 99% of it fails at being anything but rehash or Kenny G.
Now, Binder has indeed admitted to being a traditionalist of sorts, recording everything in one take directly to a mono Nagra recorder, not too different from the hey day recordings of the masters. His finished album though, shows as much sincerity and style as it does historical accuracy. His talent as writer, arranger, and performer shine through completely on this album. How? The sound of the CD is elegant in its simplicity and yet almost brash in its honesty. It can be sweet and melodious one moment then driving and biting the next and it all stays in context somehow. I won’t lie, this is a true jazz lovers album, if you don’t want to be challenged by your music this may not be the album for you.
With only two sidemen, the ever capable Scott Fitzsimmons, and the prodigy Wells Hanley on piano, Binder seems more relaxed and composed on this CD than his first, which is a great CD as well, but it lacks the focus and maturity of this release. Unfortunately, Binder’s lack of musician-as- promoter ego-trip keeps his CD honest but undersold. Binder deserves much more consideration by not only the local jazz community, but the regional and national as well. I think it’s going to be hard for him to earn that attention because he has no gimmick other than quality. This is a solid piece of work and deserves attention.
Aaron Binder— This Side of Jazz
(CD available from 2402 Kerry Ln. Charlottesville, VA 22901)
You may want to take my biased opinion with a grain of salt: This release is a monster, a mother, a moodswing and a half, a smoldering demon and a purring love kitten all in the same groove; it captures drummer / bandleader / social critic Binder caught live at Michael’s Bistro in Charlottesville, leading a stellar ensemble of players (everyone from trumpeter John D’Earth, who co-wrote half of the tunes, to Sparklehorse bassist Scot Fitzsimmons, to sax man Jeff Decker to pianists Wells Hanley and Lee Covington) through some tremendous, and feel-driven, old-school bop. This Side of Jazz really does have a great live sound— it was recorded direct on ex-Grip photographer Chuck Adcock’s portable one-track Nagra tape machine. Clear and vibrant in a “hot” live context, Binder’s combo shines best on the extended, expanded exit take of the bandleader’s own “Unbound.” This release serves best as a full-length late-night chill-out (consultant’s advice to Aaron: Disc should come with a sticker reading “100% fusion-free!”) and jazz buffs should proceed to the local artists bin without hesitation and with extreme local prejudice.
Bombpop-- The Day I Had to Explode
(Snap! CD available from 1416 Cherry Ave., Charlottesville, Va. 22902)
It’s like we wrote the press release: Bombpop’s debut has enough British Invasion daydream-dynamite and hooky-jerky new-wave firepower to revive the singalong chorus as a major component in your player. 13 (or so) superstitious slabs of beat and melody, by a loose-knit ensemble led by Charlottesville-based guitarist / vocalist Maynard Sipe, he ex of Operation Love. Not the “forgotten rocker” to Grip Monthly.
Burst Into Flames— Get Me Now
(Planetary 9002 CD available from 2614 W. Cary St., Richmond, Va. 23220)
This 4-song EP is certainly competently-produced (Sound of Music Studio’s John Morand, after all, is this band’s drummer) and the last track, “3 Xanax Day” has a memorable groove and vocal arrangement (one that sunny-voiced lead singers, guitarist Teri-Kay Lindsay and bassist Sheri Blank, can really get around), but you’ve got to wonder about a band that has so many songs in their repertoire about “Rock”— being in “rock,” touring thru “rock,” selling their “rock.” No offense, but are there other things to sing about life on the road or wanting to sell records? The title cut is all about the life of a star and another (“Tribute Band Man”) is all about dating a bar band guy (memorable refrain: “All I wanted was a real man / I got a guy in a tribute band”). There’s even a point where one of the singers sings out about going out to “Rock” and right then and there an electric guitar line screeches by to underline the point. But that’s not “Rock,” is it?— that’s Velveeta cheese.
Cashmere Jungle Lords-- Southern Barber Supply
(Available from 4412 Forest Hills Ave., Richmond, Va. 23225)
It may not be like their old Friday nights at the Mexecono, but the CJL’s long-awaited debut CD is a successful compiling of the kind of across-the-board partythrowing that made the trio, led by Dominic Carpin, stand out of the bar-band pack in 1985 and, well, now. Recorded at four different Richmond studios, by as many producers, Southern Barber Supply has a host of standout tracks (“Fernando,” “The Sweeper” and “Slender Bed”), and at least one killer, hitbound anthem (“Radio On”). A strong pick for Best--in-1997 regional awards.
Charming— Giant
(Tweekitten CD available: 5022 King David Blvd., Annandale, Va. 22003)
This Charlottesville-by-way-of-Annandale pop-rock combo does indeed come across as “charming” for their debut for California-based Tweekitten. They can come across a bit “tweekitten” too, if you know what I mean-- and if your thing ain’t chirpy pop chords mixed and matched with female, Natalie Merchant-esque vocalizing, you may want to stay away. Still, there’s some really good stuff here for people who like their pop-rock bright, shiny and damn catchy: good or bad, the ultra-melodic “Mississippi “ sounds like a soft-collegiate hit to me. Charming comes off best on the songs where they let a little bit of a rough edge intrude into their insular world of hooky navelgazing: “ December“ is an angular droner that benefits from lead songwriter Ravi Krishnaswami’s sardonic vocals) and the end of the disc, including bonus track, has a lot of interesting stuff.
Clare Quilty-- Suga-Lik
(DCide CD available from P.O. Box 32258, Washington D.C. 20007)
The Charlottesville-based Clare Quilty sure know how to find sexy-voiced lead singers-- first it was the powerful pipes of Susan Miller and now the breathy tones of Jenn Rhubright are front & center. The golden-haired Rhubright has a sweet and lulling geisha girl’s voice. . . which helps give distance and places needed-texture on top of CQ’s hard-edged, Wire-meets-Helmet art-metal.
This debut for the Washington D.C.-based D-Cide Records blends the guitar crunch of “today’s modern rock sounds” with lyrical concerns that range from the pitfalls of corporate greed to ruminations on the war between the sexes; as produced by Kevin McNoldy (that guy pops up everywhere), Suga-Lik approximates the buzzsaw sound of ‘90’s alt-metal without losing melody or drowning the song in sludge. The sonics are consistently crisp and punchy (a McNoldy trademark) and the band is in good form throughout most of the set, especially on changeups like the hateful and stirring “Name Brand Brain Death” and the sleepy-eyed “Wish You Away,” but something in this clean mix also sweetens up a sound that should be a lot harder.
Competent and quite listenable as they are, there isn’t much here that distinguishes Clare Quilty from dozens of other troups plying their trade with punk-metal riffing and sexy-voiced singers-- Mike Rodi’s jagged bursts of ugly guitar do provide welcome signature notes-- and you just don’t get a sense of the band’s sexier, more in-your-face live show. But if CQ’s deal calls for multiple releases, Clare Quilty have the time and space to grow away from the generic studio sounds of today’s rewarmed grunge, and more songs like the somber and claustrophobic “Kiss,” and that pick hit “Name Brand Brain Death,” would be the key.
The Counselors-- Na Na Na
(Jesterhound CD available from 227 Stribling Ave., Charlottesville, Va. 22903)
You gotta love a straight-ahead, funny, no-additives-added fuzz-punk group like the Counselors. They just don’t care! Produced at Paragon Studios, the band’s debut disc spotlights 12 fuzzy punk thrashers in full growling and visceral glory and there’s not a precious, overly-anaylzed note in the batch.
The Charlottesville-based group are unapologetically Blue Collar, unabashedly straight-ahead, and-- OK-- sometimes they flirt openly with STOOPID penis jokes. When these guys scream about “dog-shit on my shoes,” they are talking about DOGSHIT and not referring to some Grad School theory about dog shit or some dog shit that someone remembered from a “Brady Bunch” rerun. These days, with everyone wearing their eclecticism (and their record collections) on their sleeves, a directness like singer Jeff Melkerson’s-- and a primal thump like the band’s-- is bound to go underappreciated.
To these fellas, Rock ‘n’ roll isn’t about setting the poetry in your chapbook to music, nor is it just something to do before you are forced to work in your father’s D.C. law firm-- it’s pure hedonism, maybe a road to nowhere but the home of a skank and the inside of a bottle. WHO IN THE HELL IS COMMUNICATING THAT KIND OF FEELING ANYMORE AND MAKING IT EVEN HALFWAY PALATABLE? ROCKERS TODAY ARE TOO BUSY NAVIGATING THEIR NAVELS TO HAVE DANGEROUS FUN! The Counselors hit that hedonistic feeling more than most that are plying their trades playing “hard music,” hanging their heads when they get to the soft parts.
No, not everything works, our boys can get a bit obvious--take the witless rant of an end cut, yet another STOOPID penis joke-- but many of the other witless rants on Na Na Na are just what they say they are. And that’s refreshing.
Dynamic Truths-- “You Take It All” b/w “Profit From Loss”
(Merge 45 available from P.O. Box 1235, Chapel Hill, N.C. 27514).
A solid debut single from this Richmond band, fronted by former Honor Role (and Coral) singer Bob Schick. The rest of the players are bassist Will Gavin, guitarist David Jones and drummer W.Q. Walker and they can conjure up a pretty raucous basement ramble.“You Take It All” is an anthemic rocker that gives off a Guided By Voices flavor, and the b-side gives Bob a chance to go off on his job and his boss. Nice start.
Curious Digit-- Hessian Hills
(Jagjaguwar CD available from 1703 N. Maple St., Bloomington, IN. 47404)
Let's just get this out in the open right up front: it is impossible to get a straight answer from anyone in the band. About anything. Adam deadpans, Jimmy and Josh wax hysterical with giggles, and Paul occasionally offers a non-sequitur that our own Danzig would kill to get close to. I've tried to interview them. You can't. And when all four of them start talking at once — as they will do — you can just hang it up.
Their first album worked in something of the same manner. Entertaining but incoherent, the band didn't mesh. On a jaunty shambler like "Question One,” that's fine, but over the course of an album they left me wondering how much they actually played together. 'Tight' is not a word in the Digit vocabulary.
The new album finds them working their very distinct voices into a more harmonious whole. A lot of this has to do with a much tighter mix. Paul's keyboard-squiggling, airport-bar riffs and Josh's snaky feedback are finally on the same page, and so on. The songs, too, are tighter. They're still cranking out the six-minute-plus epics (four of the nine completed songs here), but I'm not noticing the length so much. Momentum is maintained. Comparing "Lester Mountain Road" to this album's "Parachute" shows you just how far they've come.
So. The progress report. It's better. Is it good? Yes. Is it recommended? Yep. Within the increasingly played-out genre of tension-release, quiet-loud-quiet songs championed by our shiftless generation, the Digit manages to stand out, because they know when to break it up, and break it up well. They swing a bit here and there, as on"The Lake in Earlysville,” a slow-mo waltz with the occasional portamento spasm. They have a hard-charging instrumental that sounds like the theme from a B-movie about Masada starring Jean-Claude Van Damme ("Who Most Resemble the Desperate"-- lousy song title, good song). And any tune (the aforementioned "Parachute") that ends with a church organ is cool in my book.
Still, it's the last three songs that really clinch it for me, starting with "Erase,” a beautiful and brittle piece centered around intertwining vocal and guitar parts. It's one of saddest things I've heard in a while, and they have the good sense to follow it with smirking white-boy reggae on "Within a Jar,” all about the vestigial tail Josh had clipped off at birth, complete with ferris wheel boogie. Which sets you up with a clean palate for "Covet These", which just blows me away.
So 'tight' isn't really in the vocabulary yet, but 'restraint' is. And that's just as good. (Sadly, the Digit is now extinct). {Can I say ‘God Save The Digit’! now???-- ed.)
Dragline— Static Streams Revealed
(Cassette available from 10231 Pondera Rd., Richmond, Va. 23235)
Richmond’s Dragline possess a sound that marries a heavy garage rock intensity with a willingness to experiment. What you get is an interestingly aggressive set of songs on this, the band’s second cassette release. “Point The Saucers to the Suns” is like Pink Floyd meets Wire, with a steely-edge to its smooth ride, “Basement Manifesto” and “Uncertain Ratios” are worthy do-it-yourself anthems, and, overall, Static Streams Revealed is a generous set of aggressively and artfully-drawn vignettes that go down nice and loud. Maybe Dragline are little too generous, in fact-- nothing bad, but there is a bit of sameness and sluggish sequencing; pairing this down to an EP of the best tracks would be ideal.
Dirt Ball— The Well
(Planetary CD available from 2614 W. Cary St., Richmond, Va. 23220)
In a perfect world, the kind of raw-around-the-edges twang and in-your-face confessional you find on Dirt Ball’s new CD would be the regular fare on country radio. The Richmond ensemble— led by vocalist Wes Freed and multi-instrumentalist Jeff Liverman— combine old-timey elements like mandolin and accordion with classic rock signposts like tried-and-true 4/4 whomp and snaky electric axe. Guests on this disc include the usual Richmond guest-star-mafia— producer Bob Rupe, Johnny Hott, Scott Fitzsimmons, et al— but the open session call makes for an amazingly live-sounding disc (thank Rupe and engineer Mike Snyder).
The Well is full of notable Skynyrd-meets-Parsons hybrids, with the plaintive opener, “Hand Me Down” evoking the barn wonderfully, and the second cut—a good un’, I think— “Ends of the Earth” setting it on fire with a sardonic vocal from co-author Freed in which he equates Hell with (among other things) eating Haggis on a stick. Gotta love that.
Freed’s smart-hick vocals (he even pronounces it “five-string ban-jer”), are what set Dirt Ball apart from similar country-rock outfits mining their wares in No Depressionville, but let’s not forget lead songwriter Jeff Liverman. If his harrowing “Whiskey Go Away” (a stone cold BEAUT) doesn’t reach the ears of Travis Tritt or some enterprising MCA-Nashville suit, there may be no justice in country-rock. All in all, this is a band that deserves far more than the black hole distribution of a vanity label. Someone call the country suits!!!
Drunk-- A Derby Spiritual
(Jagjaguwar CD available from 1703 N. Maple St., Bloomington, IN. 47404)
At a time when “electronica” is a buzzword buried in the collective conscious of the recording industry, it’s refreshing to find a band making vital music with instruments that preceded the advent of rock ‘n ‘roll. With A Derby Spiritual, the Richmond, Va. seven-piece ensemble Drunk have crafted a strikingly well-orchestrated and sobering album that belies the group’s soused moniker. The band’s lush, folkish guitar and accordion arrangements subtly come into play over the course of the album’s 14 tracks, seasoned by such traditional instruments as harmonicas, mandolins and cellos.
Lead vocalist P.J. Alverson sings verses hinting of poetry, history and pain, providing a fitting lyrical accompaniment to the LP’s dark, melancholic mood. On the haunting, snail-paced opener, “Collarbone,” Alverson delivers the lines with a hushed, emotional candor, so that when he murmurs, “My collarbone brushed the wall,” you quiver a little and feel him twinge. The acoustic gem, “A Nip For Kitty,” takes listeners deep into the heart of the Old South, while the martial chorus of “Germany Skies” (“Fireballs rise / Germany skies”) nearly get lost in the song’s sweet country shuffle.
On the album’s concluding, unlisted track, the band chants mantra-like, “Put the poet in the library / And maybe he’ll start writing / Instead of drinking / And fucking / Strange women,” as a sort of semi-serious spoof of the artistic process. But on A Derby Spiritual, Drunk can rest assured that their timeless musical instinct never led them too far astray in the recording studio.
Drunk— Raised Toward
(Jagjaguwar CD available from 1703 N. Maple St., Bloomington, IN. 47404)
Well, Drunk hasn’t sobered up and that, as they say, ain’t bad. In fact it’s good, quite good.
The Richmond group’s third album of quietly elegiac songs on the now-Indiana-based Jagjaguwar label, Raised Toward, is not dissimilar to previous efforts A Derby Spiritual and To Corner Wounds, yet represents a slight departure for the forlorn Rick Alverson and crew.
As on the former record, Drunk chimes, moans and wheezes on an array of mostly acoustic instruments; as on the latter, there is the occasional willingness to try on an odd klezmer-influenced two-step jaunt. Alverson, the group’s primary singer and songwriter, again emotes with preternatural calm.
New, however, is an increased reliance on drums to provide forward momentum and propulsion. Likewise, there is a more frequent use of dynamic shifts and tempo changes.
All in all, though, it’s Drunk. The opening track, “Miscellany,” is a series of backward sounds that becomes a gentle charge before settling into an Alverson lament. Hard on that song’s heels is “Scaffold,” a snaky, minor-key whirl through something new, old and borrowed.
Other highlights include a waltz-time take on Leonard Cohen’s “One of Us Cannot Be Wrong;” the coltish “Lilith, I,” which gets up a good head of steam before uncoiling into slide guitar and accordion expanse; and “All Souls Day,” a wavering ditty written and sung by guitarist Via Nuon in an agreeable murmur/croak.
Alverson, for his part, turns in another stellar job. He has, as on previous records, managed to locate the nexus point where feeling, contemplation and bemusement subscribe to the same literature. His understanding that music is more important than singing (if you disagree with me you’re entirely wrong) is probably at the heart of it. Once more, his closest vocal antecedent appears to be Thin White Rope’s Guy Kyser, minus the David Lynchian contrived weirdness shtick. ‘Nuff said.
Important to note, for clarity’s sake: This ain’t a country record. Frankly, I’ve never understood the use of that term to describe the band. Yes, this is music written and performed on traditional instruments and yes, there is an undeniable rootsy, high ‘n’ lonesome quality to the songs. But a dash of banjo and a pinch of pennywhistle do not a country record make.
Say, rather, that Raised Toward is American music (not an attempt to damn with faint praise — really) in the truest sense. It’s evocative, it’s arcane and it’s good to hear.
Anyhow, I could go on ad nauseum about the ghostly nature, diffidence and spectral simplicity of this album. But I won’t. Suffice it to say, it’s good. Quite.
Whether drinking or no, there’s Drunk. Amen.
The Dumm-Dumms-- Oxymaroon
(Glass Tube CD / Cassette avail. from 201 Monte Vista, Charlottesville, Va. 22903)
Any band that polarizes the trendy musical cognoscenti as much as this Richmond-cum-Charlottesville trio-- well-known around many of Virginia’s bar circuits-- has got to have something going for them. Needless to say, if ramrodding vocal hooks, blasts of classic rock power-axes and an unapologetic penchant for straight-ahead (albeit quite witty) lyrical concerns are your thing, the Dumm-Dumms are there for you most Saturday nights.
Oxymaroon, the band’s debut release excellently produced by Grant Rutledge at Montana Studios, has more than it’s share of hooky commercial songs, memorable performances and (anyone listening out there in hepster indie land) punchy production touches. In other words, there’s more than enough cool stuff here to offset the band’s occasional annoying flair for the obvious AOR move and penchant for the cheesy gesture.
Divorce the fact that, on stage, vocalist / lead songsmith Jimmy Catlett can come across as a bar band den mother (I once heard him begin a heckler stage lecture with “Y’know, I’ve been playing clubs for nearly 15 years now. . . “ --- that’s a big no-no!), and you are left with a independent label CD worth checking out (especially if you love commercial pop-rock in the Greg Kihn / Dwight Twilley Band mode)-- pick hits: the rousing “Set An Example” (nice chord changes), a hilarious diatribe called “Mad @ The World” (sample lyric: “You think you’re mad at the world / But you’re just mad”), and an unexpected shimmering beaut of a mid-tempo ballad, “Amphibian.”
In the end, Catlett’s a major talent despite himself and bassist David Edwards and drummer Stuart Gunter keep a metronome-like rock-bed of accompaniment throughout. Sometimes hepsters are right and totally wrong at the same time, y’know what I mean?
Flin Flon--A-OK
(Teenbeat CD)
Sound-track music for a 90’s John Hughes analogue? Indie party music? Or just Mark Robinson’s continuing early-80’s fetish shooting through a new hole?
Little bit of all three. The story here. . and this is actually a pretty selfless move, one that only makes Mark R. seem like all the nicer dude. . . ain’t the famous one. This is not Mark Robinson’s band, though he’s the reason for the season and plays some guitar.
This band belongs solely to the rhythm unit, being bassist Nattles from the (defunct? hope not) Cold Cold Hearts and Matt Datesman, who has played drums for every Charlottesville band ever and now looks to take over the Arlington area as well.
Half of the songs here (the first half, for the most part) really work the low end, highlight being foghorn basswork on “Moose Jaw”. Otherwise, it’s Olympic Death Squad part two.Which is pleasant enough, but man, when you got the drummer, you oughta always... always... let him get some.
Lauren Hoffman-- Megiddo
(Virgin 44017)
If ever there were a time to be young and making music, then now’s as good as any. Just ask Silverchair, Radish or those muppets in Hansen. But whereas “MMMBop” is a mindless stab at giddy-ass candy pop, 19-year-old local waif Lauren Hoffman sings like she can’t wait to jump that train into ripe old age. On her major label debut album Megiddo, produced by John Morand and David Lowery at Sound of Music in Richmond, Hoffman’s sounds like she’s got a lot of issues weighing on her mind-- like blood and angst, selfish men and, well, blood and angst. Her voice sounds a full ten years older than it ought, but her lyrics haven’t quite caught up yet. So when she sings “The World’s fucked up” on “Hope You Don’t Mind,” you can blame the turgid high school dramatics of her age and go ahead and make the Fiona Apple comparisons.
But on the songs where Hoffman doesn’t overdo the existentialist despair, like the tuneful “Fall Away,” you may just find yourself humming along with this otherwise dark and macabre album.
Honor Role-- Album
(Merge compilation available from P.O. Box 1235, Chapel Hill NC. 27514)
Welcome to the songs that launched a thousand (hundred? OK, at least two dozen) rock ‘n’ roll dreams. Gerald Cosloy is right when he says music hasn’t been the same since this Richmond-based band was plying its riffbound trade throughout the ‘80’s. For one thing we probably wouldn’t have had Breadwinner! While I wouldn’t necessarily throw away the old vinyl-- there’s just something about listening to Honor Role on vinyl!-- this 26-track compilation culled from seminal 45’s and LPs is an excellent place to get the unacquainted reacquainted again with one of the area’s most influential and, still, groundbreaking bands.
Howard / Johnson— Merchandise No. 5
(Available from 512 Stewart St., Charlottesville, Va. 22901)
Subtitled: A buncha wise guys. These ad-hoc wisenheimer Charlottesville singer-songwriting folkies aspire to the heights of Jeffrick Fredrick and the Clamtone-like zaniness and, yes—occasional bum note and/or AOR guitar overdub aside— they come through on their cryptically-illustrated independent-label disc.
Even if H / J’s arrangements are often couched in a few “folk-rock” cliches, you’ve gotta admire lyrics that aren’t the same ol’ poetry shamble or derivative “ooo-mama,” and Howard / Johnson has it’s share of zingers (everyone from Mr. Jetson to Johnson’s brother Dave to the band’s last soundguy is lovingly rendered); the kernels of wisdom are wrapped around the playing of a loose, largely acoustic ensemble that employs lead singer DP Johnson and two two hip-swinging backup singers, Susan Dilla and Gretchen Casler (who are asked to make melodic some pretty zany lyrics). Most of the songs are delivered in a satirical, sardonic manner by the monotoned Johnson, and bassist / co-leader TC Howard leads the band through shifts in mood and mirth. An Orson Welles fan has got to appreciate track 2, an homage to the master, but the keepers are two more free-wheeling affairs: “Cashew“ and “Too Kind.” A very pleasant surprise.
The Larry Keel Experience--Miles and Miles
(LKCD available in local shops)
Local bluegrass guitar phenomenon, and former member of Magraw Gap, Larry Keel has a great new album that combines traditional and original songs performed by Keel along with a blend of others devoted to blue acoustic music. Instead of being a solo record featuring just his own performances, however, Miles and Miles is a collection of artists’ works that sometimes do and do not feature Keel. Even so, his Tom Waitish vocals and top-notch flat-picking are the unassuming highlights of the album. Keel’s original approach of promoting himself and others works well, and serves to celebrate a common love of acoustic music.
Recorded live to two-track at Keel’s home in Natural Bridge, Miles and Miles refuses to be restricted to just bluegrass music. Folk, blues, and jazz all surface through the course of the disc, both alone and fused with traditional bluegrass. Standouts include the title track, a twelve and a half minute hypnotic epic titled “Trance,” and a cover of Duke Ellington’s “Caravan.”
Kepone-- Kepone
(1/4 Stick CD)
Some fans have replied that, compared with this Richmond band’s previous work, Kepone’s third nationally-distributed CD is a relative bore. Listen again, pilgrims It may not have the punchy sonics of their debut, Ugly Dance (still a monster disc), this trio continues to merge melody and humor with their wonderfully idiosyncratic take on the punk rock aesthetic (with lyrical help from, among others, Burma Jam’s Allison Auth). The droning horror story of “Ghost,” the searing vocal harmonies on “Leave Your Bones,” the Casio-techno “Clicking Jam,” and the eerie “Virginia Creeper,” complete with cash register(?) solo, are strong highlights. The only disappointment is that the best title here, “Dead Pop Ideal,” is an instrumental! Oh well. . .
(See Virginia Music Reviews L-W for more reviews. . . )
(Compiled by Don Harrison, Brian Greene, Tyler Magill, Mark Leta, Stephen Head, Jeremy Berlin, Dan Poarch, Steve Richmond, Tab Hutchins & Chuck Gimlet)