:. e-mail this article :. print this article :. comment on this article

The Alphabet, When the sun calls your name . . . or, Ghost World (Nashinal)
John Nash fronts the Detroit band The Alphabet whose latest release When the sun calls your name . . . or, Ghost World is a collection of the 1998 title track A-side single, plus eight leftovers for a concept album called High Voltage Rays that never made it off the ground. Nash boasts that his band incorporates everything from Armageddon and time travel to the Tibetan Book of The Dead in their lyrics to separate it from the rest of the Detroit pack. In the case of the latter, the Beatles did it decades ago from "Tomorrow Never Knows" on Revolver, and much better, might I add. Basically, this album is the hodgepodge it claims to be, with a lo-fi sound and a bunch of generic songs that really don't make you jump up and down with excitement. There's the forced weirdness of "Witches Believe Us" and the grating "Forever Girl" that sounds like it wants to vie for The Troggs' classic "Cousin Jane" territory, but nothing ever sticks to the ribs in this mess. Not even the dated title track offers any hope. Apparently Nash is readying a new album from this group for a winter release. Let's hope it's better than this disc, which sounds like nothing more than a bunch of bored musicians playing scraps of bad folk rock to pass the time. You can do much better in the Detroit area, say, like The Paybacks. Give them a listen first before you put yourself to sleep with this one.
      -- Jason Thompson

The Churchills, Big Ideas (Firetone)
Upon hearing Big Ideas, the superb third full-length album from the Churchills, it's safe to say that the trio are putting the power back into power pop. You may have seen the New York band from exposure on Meadow Soprano's T-shirts in The Sopranos, but you wouldn't recognise them from their previous 2000 record, You Are Here. Since then, they've parted company with Universal Records, lost a guitarist and found a drummer, but in the process beefed up their sound considerably. Oh, and they've also made one of the best pop-rock albums of 2002. Emphatic openers "Lights Are on But No-one's Home" and "One Foot in the Grave" prove the band has successfully made the shift from the slightly overproduced feel of their debut to a leaner, meaner and more energetic sound that still effortlessly brims with pop magic. The title track is gloriously warm and fuzzy, album highlight "Ordinary" is simply brilliant and "Please Carolyn" is heartfelt without being mushy. Elsewhere, "Run Out of Things to Say" screams 'hit', "Blind Deaf and Dumb" is melody defined and "Na Na" is dreamily hypnotic. What's more, the Churchills have matched the power in their music by not only releasing this masterpiece independent of a major label's assistance, but also by financing their own touring and retail operations. Big ideas indeed.
      -- Andrew Ellis

Dame Fate, Time and Tide Wait For No Man (Lovitt)
This group claims to sound like a Mazzy Star/My Bloody Valentine therapy session. I wish that was the case. A mix like that sounds promising, but unfortunately Dame Fate is little more than an amateur all-female rock trio that barely sounds like they're keeping things together on Time and Tide Wait For No Man. Fronted by bassist and vocalist Yalan Papillons (a "modern day Chrissie Hynde" says the website, but don't believe it for a moment) and rounded out with drummer Speck and guitarist Melissa Farris, Dame Fate pump out a slow, melancholy batch of tunes here that don't sound like anything but eight demos that need a lot of work. While some of the album shows a bit of a spark, as on "Stealing Hearts" and "Forget Him", the rest is a slipshod affair with clunky beats, poor vocals, and a general sense of sloppiness (check out "Crisp Winter" or "River Letters"). Still, this band might have "it", as they were featured in an issue of Seventeen. But it's hard to imagine this album generating anything beyond a stifled murmur. Pass on it if you can.
      -- Jason Thompson

Dynamic Ribbon Device, The Elysian Fields (Pure Pop)
Hailing from Melbourne, the boys from Dynamic Ribbon Device consider themselves a bit of musical recipe combining three parts XTC, two parts 10CC, a touch of Roxy Music, a pinch of Mott the Hoople, "all topped off with the obligatory Beatle[s] garnish". Well, if breezy and big band, wall-of-sound, musical mayhem with a message is what they expected would pop out of their collective ovens, they're not far off. DRD's The Elysian Fields, with its catastrophic melding of lilting cellos, ramming guitars, trumpets, a lap steel and a choir of kindergarteners (on the excellent "Sandpit"), is dramatic and mystical -- it's kind of like pop music for the Middle Ages. The whole mix is at its best on "The Epic of Gilga Mesh", a rich and haunting eight-minute journey through life, death and regret, the country-inspired "Rainbow Girls", and the mental carnival ride that is "King Reggie" (an ode to The Swingers, maybe?). With all that works on The Elysian Fields, I'd say it's time to eat.
      -- Nikki Tranter

The Epidemic, Now Museum, Now You Don't (OHEV)
If there are a pair of songs that epitomize the Epidemic's second release, they are the two songs that fall somewhere in the center of the album: "How Do You Can It to Deny?" and "An Exhibition of Sorts". The former, with its awkward title, fractured beats, electronic gloops and mournful horns that fall over each other in a beautiful pile, is a gaggle of pre-teens, scooting ankles-and-elbows through a summer craft fair, stopping at each vendor's table only to giggle at his wares. The latter -- a puns-aplenty acoustic guitar-driven ballad with mournful strings and organ -- is that middle-aged and wise vendor during the autumn, working steadily and creatively, waiting patiently for summer's bloom. Andy Dixon, the fellow behind this metaphorical meeting, has created 1) an electronic album that's as mashy as Autechre but as pastoral as Aphex Twin and 2) an indie rock album that comes across as po-mo as Joan of Arc but as sincere as Bright Eyes. What's constantly surprising about Now Museum, Now You Don't is that this blend works. Perhaps it's fitting that the color scheme of the cover is hot chocolate-and-coffee brown: both foods, after all, can stimulate and relax the mind at the same time.
      -- Anthony C. Bleach

Figurine, The Heartfelt (March)
Fortunately, this trio of pseudo-androids -- David, James, and Meredith -- has largely abandoned the instant 1980s retro goodvibes of 1999's Transportation + Communication = Love in favor of both a more grounded (some might claim cynical) worldview and sophisticated songwriting. While it's quite easy to imagine pieces of The Heartfelt working well on the dancefloor ("Way Too Good" and "Time (His Mix)" come immediately to mind), the overall strength of the album is less the way that the three work in the genre-a-la-(Depeche?)-mode (electro/synthpop) than in the way they combine the impersonality of the technology inherent in the sounds of the genre with the intimacies of the heart. "Our Game (is Over)" metaphorically connects falling out of a relationship with coming to the end of a video game. The lyrics of "IMpossible" claim "I M so lost without you". "So Futuristic" might be the most mournful electro-funk song (yes, that is a contradiction) this side of Prince's "When Doves Cry". And "Heartfelt" claims "Love is just a noun / An empty sound" as the music joins the woozy string section of an ambient house track with skittering breakbeats and synthesizers. While they can definitely still make your 1980s shoulders shimmy and bring a smile to your face, Figurine has also proved that they can make your soundcard weep.
      -- Anthony C. Bleach

Goldenboy, Blue Swan Orchestra (B-Girl)
Shon Sullivan, if he's known at all, is known as a sideman. He has served time in Josh Haden's band, Spain, was the lead guitarist in Neil Finn's touring band on the New Zealand rocker's last US tour, and has played with Elliott Smith. The versatility earned him the nickname "Goldenboy". But Sullivan is just as likely to be known this time next year as the voice of Goldenboy, a California trio, gives voice to songs this long-time second fiddle has amassed over the years. Thankfully he's been given enough time off from those various projects to complete this disc. It is an ethereal, lilting collection of pop songs. Over 10 breezy pop songs, Sullivan croons atop an acoustic base not unlike that favored by Belle and Sebastian, the Smiths and his sometime employer Elliott Smith. Sullivan wrote all of the disc's tracks, penning some classic-sounding melodies. "Sing Another Song for the Winterlong" is perhaps the best, a rambling tune with a simple, catchy melody, lilting chorus and quirky keyboard figure throughout. He sticks with the weather theme throughout, hitting on the "Blue Swans of Winter" and "Twenty Months in a Hail Storm" along the way. He is joined by former Moonwash drummer Bryan Bos and David McConnell, indie-rock producer extraordinaire, who came from behind the boards to add bass, guitar and keyboards. He also offered the disc a release through B-Girl Records, started just for this project. He was even sharp enough to hit the record button one day when Smith was in the studio singing along with Sullivan on "Summertime". The result is a brief (37 minutes) collection of light pop songs that catch in your ear with subtle hooks. Here's hoping Sullivan gets a few more days off in the coming months to hit the studio again.
      -- John Kenyon

Ray Mason Band, Three Dollar Man (Captivating Music)

Ray Mason's Three Dollar Man is 10 songs of pure charm. The man and his beaten up '65 Silvertone can do no wrong on his seventh CD, full of songs about infatuation, friendship, choices made, chances missed and a funny ol' fella named Sid Fargus. Mason and his band -- Stephen Desaulniers on bass, Frank Marsh on drums, Jim Weeks on acoustic guitar and keys -- experiment with everything from jazz and blues to pop, country, punk and ska, with equal skill and vigor. The band's songs are often short and snappy, knowing exactly when to heat up and, with nothing over three and half minutes, when to fade out. With over 30 years experience in recording and touring, Mason has perfected his simplistic style, telling stories often humorous ("I've Got a Good Dentist"), sometimes serious ("Ear for Rain"), and always sincere. His ability to concoct superlative pop is unparalleled, as is his knack for crossing genres without jeopardizing his sound. Three Dollar Man is testament to Mason's enormous talent -- just excellent.
      -- Nikki Tranter

Theory of a Deadman, Theory of a Deadman (Roadrunner)
Yet another dumb band with an even dumber name, called Theory of a Deadman, is the latest Canadian, faux-grunge outfit set to put another blemish on the already sorry sight that corporate rock radio already is. There's absolutely nothing here that bears any resemblance to good music; when a band rips off Nickelback note for note, you know you're in trouble. Nothing but the same old tuned-down guitars, lethargic, Bill Ward-on-downers drumming, and more of that annoying, imitated Eddie Vedder/Scott Weiland singing by another sensitive guy with facial hair. "Nothing Will Come Between Us", a radio hit in Canada (which embarrasses this Canadian to no end) is bogged down by an instantly forgettable melody, "Make Up Your Mind" is actually "How You Remind Me (Part Two)", and the muddled "Say I'm Sorry" is a pathetic attempt at a power ballad. The best part about this album is that it's a mere 36 minutes long, but still, that's about 35 minutes too long. Don't listen to it. Don't even look at it. Just keep walking, folks. Ignore them, and they'll go away. Until the next Nickelback clone comes around, that is.
      -- Adrien Begrand

Various Artists, Trampoline Records Greatest Hits, Vol. 1 (Trampoline)
What do Pete Yorn, Rami Jaffee (Wallflowers) and Marc Dauer (Five Easy Pieces) have in common? Apart from huge success in the music industry, the refreshing answer is a collective willingness to give something back by discovering and nurturing new talent. The ethos of the label they teamed up to create is easily identifiable on this superb collection of diverse alternative pop/rock that features a selection of indie talent lying just outside the radar. The famous trio contribute stellar tracks including a quality Pete Yorn rarity, "Hunter Green", as well as "Sentimental Tattoo" by Dauer's retro-cool new band Jukebox Junkies, but the consistent high standard of the lesser-known artists showcased means there's no inferiority complex here. Standouts litter the 18 songs, with Rusty Truck's rootsy "Never Going Back", Gingersol's vibrant "Who Cares", Evan Frankfort's edgy "Nothing New" and the Marlboro-soaked reminiscences of Phil Cody's "We Could've Had It All" being the top picks. Meanwhile, in between the wonderfully contrasting sounds of Peter Himmelman's "So Many Little Lies" and Sake Sushi Orchestra's "I Agree With Mr. Scorcese", Sheryl Crow collaborator Jeff Trott, and the well-known producers/songwriters Pete Droge and Ethan Johns all prove their solo mettle. For anyone complaining of an over exposure to the horrors of manufactured pop, Trampoline Records Greatest Hits, Vol. 1 is the perfect antidote.
      -- Andrew Ellis