Aria, Haze (Bleep)
Aria's Haze offers the listener a study in contrast: at its best moments, it is a gorgeous electronic pop music in the tradition of Broadcast and Portishead. Aria has a voice that rivals that of Beth Gibbons or Trish Keenan for its ethereal beauty, and it floats wonderfully over tracks that are well-crafted, melodically the equal of the voice they support. Unfortunately, that is not the whole story. If it were, Haze would be one of the best albums of the year, and Aria would be hailed as the next Björk, as she is from Reykjavik, and the comparisons are unavoidable. However, she has made some curious decisions about what to include on this album, and some of the tracks illustrate Whereas "Ariella (Dub)" is a beautiful song that will recall Dummy-era Portishead, the alternate version included, "Ariella", ruins the song with a farcical rap. "My Stoned Wings" incorporates an almost Radiohead-ish approach to obscuring vocals for effect, and succeeds smashingly, only to be ruined by "Orange Meadows", which can only invite comparisons to certain Swedish pop outfits and generally falls flat on its face. Aria has made the decision to include Icelandic rap on this album, and pays a severe price. On an records such as this, a continuous mood and "the chill" are the standards by which the album is judged, and to have Aria's beautiful voice interrupted by a hack MC claiming to represent "the land of Ice" does more than ruin that particular song. Nonetheless, with a little skipping about, Haze goes from a mediocre album with a few highlights to a long EP of uninterrupted beauty. If only Aria would recognize that and lock the studio doors next time she goes in to record.
-- Brendan Kredell
Guillermo E. Brown, Soul at the Hands of the Machine (Thirsty Ear)
Skeptics have certainly been attuned to Guillermo E. Brown's jazz calling ever since he took over the drumming reins for Susie Ibarra upon her departure from the seminal David S. Ware Quartet a few years back. For Ware, Ibarra provided the unequivocal percussive backbone to both his anarchic free jazz salvos on independent labels such as AUM Fidelity (Wisdom of Uncertainty) and to the more controlled chaos of his releases on the major Columbia Jazz imprint (Go See The World). As it turned out, Brown laid any and all doubts to rest as he ably filled Ibarra's temporarily vacant drum stool with his exceptional drumming on Ware's epic Surrendered and the Matthew Shipp synthesizer-driven Corridors & Parallels discs. Now Thirsty Ear's Blue Series, a menagerie of unconventional recordings that so far includes efforts by Shipp, Roy Campbell and Spring Heel Jack, has enlisted Brown's services for its latest leap into free form experimentation. With .Soul at the Hands of the Machine, Brown fails to opt for a more natural percussive blueprint, a la William Parker and Hamid Drake's stunning tribal-like journey record Piercing the Veil, instead exposing a penchant towards an electronic hybrid of juxtaposed beats and processed fragments. The result is an artificial nucleus that is more post-rock-anchored than jazz-oriented. Soul's opening track, "If We Can Ever Find a Way", is a fusion of skewed scratches, synth streaks and crisp but dizzying beats -- not to be confused with a Tortoise remix but almost certainly possible. "Gimme Time Tiempo" extends on the pattern of "Way" but the addition of beefy acoustic bass low-end adds an organic layer to Brown's studio creation. Multi-reedist Daniel Carter (Other Dimensions in Music) guests on "Manganese" and "Das Funken" for Soul's jazziest excursions into funky/African horn-driven rhythms. Unfortunately, Brown's fixation lies in his affinity for a hip-hop-influenced beat universe, synth-cluster strife, and incessant constellations of bleeps and blurbs that seem like they just blew in from the Windy City. Guillermo E. Brown may not yet be ready to lead his own ensemble, as Soul at the Hands of the Machine proves to be a flawed piece of work. But considering his young age and the expertly crafted drums he contributes to the David S. Ware Quartet, we have certainly not heard the last of him.
-- Brad Cohan
DSP, In the Red (Ninja Tune)
If the structures of popular culture are arbitrary constructs, then it could reasonably be hoped that the quickly evolving British hip-hop scene would take on characteristic elements distinguishing it from its US predecessor. Unfortunately, DSP seem to have inherited a few too many of the traits that make so much US hip-hop weak these days, beginning with the idea of opening their second album, In the Red, with an intro. Dynamic Syncopation, the South London duo of Johnny Cuba and the Loop Professor, do the heavy lifting on this effort, providing world-class beats for MCs who all too often sound like they are competing for provincial titles. The production duo have clearly been influenced by the New York school of the mid-'90s, and the work of Premier and Pete Rock, while also diversifying the sound of their production work and increasing its density, creating beats on the whole more layered than those of their predecessors. However, the producer-centered album still depends on the contributions of the guest MCs to carry the day, and weak efforts from a number of (often American) MCs make In the Red frequently sound like the weak tracks left off of Soundbombing. For those who can bear it, there are a few gems in here, including Phi-Life Cypher's "My Verse 1st," but as an album, this one's best left in the cut-out bin.
-- Brendan Kredell
Jimmy Fallon, The Bathroom Wall (Dreamworks)
Jimmy Fallon's debut comedy album The Bathroom Wall, is fun, if mindless, entertainment -- his particular brand of humor is accessible, particularly to those of his same generation, and he has an endearing sense of himself in that he is adept at self-mockery -- all qualities that make for a successful comedian. Fallon attempts to revive the long-lost concept of the comedy album -- one part Steve Martin, one part Weird Al Yankovic, sadly though, Fallon never quite reaches their level of effectiveness. The first half of the album is a set of songs with influences ranging from the Beastie Boys to Prince and Mick Jagger to Neil Young. The music is actually quite good (Fallon got a professional band to back him up) and the lyrics are inventive and sometimes very funny: "I'll stick my fist up your ass like my name was Jim Henson", overall, however, the material is lacking. The second half of the album is a series of stand-up skits, some of which are funny and others, like bits about his college RA, the "walk of shame" and the like, that unfortunately fall flat. The highlights on this end of the CD are Fallon's immaculate impersonations of Robin Williams, Jerry Seinfeld and Adam Sandler. In short, he should hold onto his gig with Saturday Night Live. He's far better as a member of a team than on his own.
-- Chris Fallon
Highway Nine, Highway Nine (Epic)
I honestly didn't think major labels bothered with bands like Highway Nine any longer. From the opening bars of "Between Your Eyes and Mine", the band proves that sounding less offensive than the Eagles is actually possible. With a musical style somewhere between AOR and Nashville country, the band has all the contemporary relevance of a topical one-liner from 1975. The singer sounds like Don Henley, the band is tight, yet produce a sound so insipid it's untrue and the material is sub-standard lighter-waving soft rock. More specifically, a random survey of the song titles reveals everything about Highway Nine: "Yesterday Came Out All Wrong", a wimpy ballad that is as predictable as you would expect; "Say You're Mine", a weak attempt to crank the amps up to, oh, about 5; and "Nothin' But Love", astonishingly more tired and clichéd than the title suggests. In fact, the song that sums up this album most succinctly is "Pain and Suffering".
-- Andrew Ellis
Idaho, We Were Young and We Needed the Money, (Idahomusic)
An odds and sods release from a relatively obscure cult band ain't exactly what get-rich record company schemes are made of. But for those curious about what L.A. singer/songwriter Jeff Martin has been up to for the past decade, We Were Young and We Needed the Money is a decent place to start. Despite drawing from an array of sources and time periods, it has a consistently downbeat tone throughout. Like his vocal doppelganger J. Mascis, Martin is a limited songwriter who is most inspired when he was an actual band around him. The best material here comes from sessions for 1996' s Three Sheets to the Wind with guitarist Dan Seta, bassist Terry Borden and drummer Mark Lewis. These songs are at the beginning of We Were Young and We Need the Money and bring a much-needed shot of variety
and vitality. The rest of the 17-song compilation, recorded mostly by Martin alone, is standard rumbly mumbly indie rock.
-- Steven Hyden
Curtis Lundy, Purpose (Justin Time)
Bassist Lundy is a graduate of Betty Carter's group, as are pianist John Hicks and saxophonist Mark Shim, both featured on this, Lundy's second album as a leader on the Justin Time label. The pleasures of this CD demonstrate the unfailing ability Carter had to recognize and nurture the very best young talent in the jazz world. Lundy provides the underpinning of an impeccable rhythm section that supports this stellar mainstream jazz session. Hicks stands out on the three numbers he contributes to, as do vibraphonist Steve Nelson and saxophonist Mark Shim. While Purpose is not a groundbreaking jazz album, it reminds one of the immense satisfactions to be found in the enjoyment of a solid, workmanlike group of musicians whose aim is to revel in the sheer joy of creating music together.
-- Marshall Bowden
Refresh, Refresh:listen
A simple story: buncha Minneapolis kids gig and rehearse for five years, then take their 12 best tunes and release them independently on CD. No record labels, no interventionist producers, no hassling managers. The result is Refresh:listen, an entertaining indie-snide disc that's suffused with nifty melodies and a prickly guitar snarl. The self-produced sound is a bit thin, which gives the guitar a nice retro feeling, kinda like those old David Bowie glam discs. And vocalist Mike Kozarek -- obviously imitating his favorite singers -- takes that pinched-nasal-testosterone delivery to the bank. My favorite tunes are "Mesmerized" (which appropriates that Smells-Like-More-Than-A-Feeling hook yet again), "The Suburbanites" (a would-be hit record with loud guitars and pretty melodies), and "Heartfelt Antipathy" (painful kisses and sick minds: the title says it all!). And the untitled all-acoustic "secret track" is quite sexy. Pretty good stuff, completely unoriginal but lots of fun. And there's no doubt Kozarek is a genuine talent on the Twin Cities scene. So when you've grown weary of complaining about the music conglamerates, buy this album. It's a good place to start supporting genuinely independent music.
-- Mark Desrosiers
The Thrills, Santa Cruz (You're Not That Far) (Virgin, UK)
We've seen this story repeated many times. Five boyhood friends get together to start a band, work at it for several years, sign a major label contract, are whisked away to some fancy location to record their debut album, accolades and pandemonium ensue. But rarely, if ever, has the familiar tale yielded music as timeless and flat-out jaw-dropping as this. Quite simply, the Santa Cruz (You're Not that Far) EP eclipses nearly any debut this writer has ever heard. Hyperbole? Maybe. But this has to be heard to be believed. Unfortunately, many have already turned away in disgust before even giving the band a chance -- as strange Strokes comparisons have already begun to take shape. However, the only things The Thrills have in common with that certain NYC band are their fashion sense and the requisite "the" name. Musically-speaking, these groups aren't in the same cosmos. The Thrills take the very best elements of classic California pop, in the Beach Boys tradition, and give it the ever-slightest modern twist. Beulah might come to mind, but The Thrills craft romantic, windswept melodies where the former's compositions border on kitsch. Songs like the title track and "Your Love Is Like Las Vegas" are loving homages to a bygone era and sound, a time when vocal harmonies and the piano were fixtures on the radio dial. The lyrics brilliantly complement the sun-kissed melodies, revealing a fondness for the beat poets and long drives up the Pacific Coast Highway. It's easy for music this joyful and life-affirming to seem easy, but there's a unmistakable genius at work here. Avoid them at your own peril. This is where the hype ends and legends begin.
-- Jon Garrett
Various Artists, Dreaming Up the Perfect Pop (Planting Seeds)
Planting Seeds Records has indulged itself in a little Orwellian utopia-fantasizing with their latest compilation, Dreaming Up the Perfect Pop. Filled to the brim with the brand of pop music that can claim direct lineage from Serge Gainsbourg himself, this disc has 21 guitar-driven, sideways-head-nodding tracks, only three of which cross the four minute barrier. One is reminded when listening to Marykate O'Neil force her way through "Mundane Dream" that, what bands like the Apples in Stereo may lack in talent, they make up for with catchy songwriting. Without catchy songwriting, "perfect pop" falls apart. What at first seems like a fairly simply idiom upon closer inspection becomes much more complex. Slow down the tempo, like Xavier Pelleuf does on "Wisconsin", and the track seems to be missing something. Add vocal effects, like the Echo Orbiter do on their "August Landscape Green", and things seem too complex. But sometimes a band gets it just right, like Call and Response on "Mr. Weatherman", and for three minutes you can look in on pop utopia. Listeners expecting a consistent high quality will most likely be disappointed, but this compilation serves as a good introduction to bands such as Astropop 3, The Dupont Circles, Kleenex Girl Wonder, and a few others worth taking note of.
-- Brendan Kredell
— 17 February 2003
