PopMatters Music Short Takes

Rain, Rain (Sunbeam)

Sunbeam has an amazing knack for reissues, finding worthy old albums along with the original band members (for bios and pics) and any bonus tracks that may be available. Though the lone record from Rain is a few stops short of a lost classic, Sunbeam’s reputation is intact thanks to the solid songwriting of Frank Schallis, who passed away in 2000, and Cobb Bussinger. Cobb gives a nice rundown of the aftermath left on the wake of Rock Island (also a one album phenomena), that band’s path to Rain, and the latter’s disillusion and disbanding during the writing of a double LP follow-up at the hands of the usual industry ineptitude and shortsightedness. Though the vocals were occasionally a little corny and the production of Jeff Hest, under direction from the legendary Enoch Light, sounded more late ‘70s than early, the eponymous solitary album boasted a great deal of variety from early prog, power pop, and folk to psychedelic rock and even a little jazz. “To a Dreamer” alone is a dazzling mix of organ driven hard rock and ELP prog, specifically the Moog from the “Lucky Man” solo. They deserved a shot at that double LP.  There was so much more they could have done that they never had a chance to prove. Shame on you, nameless record executives. [Amazon]

KaiserCartel, March Forth (Bluhammock)

Ah yes, the always interesting duo of male and female musicians. Like She & Him, Damon & Naomi, and others before them, Courtney Kaiser and Benjamin Cartel, or KaiserCartel, set out to marry the feminine and masculine with acoustic guitars and lo-fi production. And for all you love-struck but secretly bitter gals and guys, these two deliver the goods on their debut, March Forth.  While there aren’t many weak links on here, KaiserCartel hit all the right notes when Kaiser takes command of the mic with her authoritative, gorgeous voice. In particular, she elevates the already musically perfect “Oh No”, which features an interesting use of detuned guitars, and the poppy “The Good Ones” to another level whenever she opens her mouth. And much of the same goes for “Blue Sky” and “Okay”.

But when Cartel takes the lead, he doesn’t quite reach the same heights. “Traveling Feet” isn’t necessarily bad, but Cartel just sounds better when he loses the gentle, dreamy vocals. And he does just that on “The Flood”, the song of a soured man backed by a steady beat and a melancholy violin. So what happens when they share time in the booth and mesh their vocals? Well, you get a beautiful song like “Inside Out”, that’s what. They rarely take the duet approach, though, except on some choruses here and there. Perhaps some more time together on the mic would have helped strengthen tracks like “Traveling Feet”. Even with that slight misstep and some other cuts that fail to leave an impression, KaiserCartel still deserve some attention. They might only be re-shaping the wheel with March Forth, but they do it a damn fine job of it. [Amazon]

Monte Dunn and Karen Cruz, Monte Dunn and Karen Cruz (Forced Exposure/Fallout)

Released in the late ‘60s but finally seeing the light of day on CD, Monte Dunn and Karen Cruz exemplify the delicate folk style that was so rife in that era. Featuring members who would work alongside Tim Hardin, Richie Havens and also Bob Dylan, the tandem of Dunn and Cruz make sweet music on the melodic “Never In My Life” which recalls the likes of a more somber Mamas and the Papas. Perhaps the only drawback to this effort is how some numbers come off too highbrow or artsy, as is the case with the almost medieval “Order To Things” which would fit better in a British theatre piece than any Brit-folk album. The tandem fleshes out “You Don’t Smile Much” perfectly thanks to the work of the seasoned supporting case of banjo player Eric Weissberg and guitarist Bruce Langhorne. It makes for a fine, troubadour, train-chugging number. And it’s in sharp contrast to the mellow, lounge-y and limp “Loving You”. Dunn takes a large share of the vocals on “Self Satisfaction” which has some timeless content suited for the genre. Meanwhile, the pair nail “Outside Looking In” with its John Denver, toe-tapping seasoning. Dunn and Cruz also work in a little swinging country-rock nugget called “Yellow Cab”. It might be only 28 minutes, but it makes every moment count. [Amazon]

Brazzaville, 21st Century Girl (Bus Stop)

Sometimes the bossa nova/island music of Brazzaville sounds so sweet, strange and delicate, you think your heart is just going to break and little chickens will come out peeping from the egg-like fragments. Then you realize the songs themselves have a jagged edge. The softness of David Brown’s vocals and gentle lilt of the strings and piano are like the sighs one makes when confronted by pain one can never understand: the feeling of being abandoned by the one you love, or the pain of being dumped by the person you just met and fell for, or growing too old to enjoy the promising nowheres of new relationships. The gentle drumming that tempts one into movement is really the sound of rain and soon one is wet and cold. Brazzaville is a Barcelona based band that takes its name from one of the most squalid cities on earth. The group makes seductive music that insinuates like the delightful smell of oleander, and is just as deadly as that flowery perfume. [Amazon]

Jessica Lea Mayfield, With Blasphemy So Heartfelt (Polymer Sounds)

With a voice so aching it’s almost unbearable in its confluence of beauty and suffering, Jessica Lea Mayfield is dropping her debut album with no small amount of buzz—all of it justified—and two ringing, high profile endorsements from Scott Avett of the Avett Brothers and the Black Keys’ shaggier half, Dan Auerbach, who produced the album and appears throughout. And damn if it isn’t a knockout; she’s all of 18 (though hardly a rookie, having logged time in family-related bands for a decade already), sports a nose ring, and with every slow-burning meditation on desire and commensurate heartache, you crave the deep, angst-ridden soul in her voice that much more.

As her career develops, it’d be good to hear a bit more variety. Taken as one, straight-through listen, With Blasphemy, So Heartfelt becomes a haze of tortured, restless phrasing shot through with metallic, slurred guitar tones occasionally just shy of psychedelia. Plus, none of the frequent comparisons she’s received already seem particularly accurate; she’d eat that pissy Cat Power alive, for one, and while the frayed garage-blues of the Black Keys is a useful touch point, Mayfield’s not really a bash-things-out kinda gal, and her music isn’t merely Dan and Patrick feminized (a suggestion that’d be not only over-simplification but, yeah, a disservice to both her and the Akron howlers). No, Mayfield’s got her own knives to twist, most of all “We’ve Never Lied”, which begins in resignation ("Kiss me like you love me / I’ll pretend we’ve never lied") but is actually a pronouncement soaked in acid ("And I kiss you like I want you to kiss me / And I’ll talk to whoever I goddam wanna"). Cat Power? That old softy? Please. [Amazon]

Harrisons, No Fighting in the War Room (Melodic)

Harrisons are a group from Sheffield who may or may not still exist. Either way, on this debut album and DVD set they borrow from some classic sources such as Dr. Strangelove, Kes, The Clash, and (to some extent) The Teardrop Explodes. The band brings plenty of energy and benefit from the taut production of Hugh Jones who once did a similar job for Echo & The Bunnymen, The Stranglers, and the aforementioned Teardrops. Let’s not kid ourselves, though, that this is anything more than formulaic, spiky, anthemic pop. Or to put it another way: some 13-year-olds might love it. After establishing a combative, “honest” stance and poking a finger vaguely at the powers that be, there isn’t much else going on. The word “you” gets used a lot, in an accusatory manner. For the video of “Bluenote”, Harrisons do a brief but loving remake of the high school soccer scene from Kes. In Ken Loach’s 1969 original half the kids pretend to be Tottenham while their teacher’s team “is” Manchester United. In their version, Harrisons replace Tottenham with (local team) Sheffield Wednesday. It’s worth seeing, if you’ve seen Kes and more importantly if you haven’t you should remedy that immediately. On the other hand, the video for “Dear Constable” is so irritating that I ended up rooting for the riot police to not only take them down but also shut them up. [Amazon]

Adam Marsland, Daylight Kissing Night - Adam Marsland’s Greatest Hits (Karma Frog)

If power-pop were marketable, Adam Marsland would be a millionaire, or at least a household name. Solo and with his lamentably defunct band Cockeyed Ghost, Marsland’s compositions erupt with heart, soul and ebullient, unforgettable hooks. Daylight Kissing Night collects twenty of his finest ditties, all delivered with milky falsetto acrobatics and clever couplets that will have Matthew Sweet reaching for a thesaurus. Longtime fans may quibble with rerecords and remixes of older tracks (“At the Bookstore”, “Married Yet”), but the new versions are cleaner, crisper and more confident than their predecessors. A few songs take cutting stabs at music industry (and rock press) nonsense, and only a couple sink into the complacent MOR motions that swallow so many promising singer-songwriters. Most impressive is the jaw-dropping “Ginna Ling”, an alternate-universe classic that runs the gamut of human emotion in under five minutes. Like Marsland’s best achievements, it is a glorious reminder of the seemingly bygone era when power-pop could actually be powerful. [Amazon]

DJ Revolution, King of the Decks (Duck Down)

With King of the Decks, DJ Revolution set out to re-establish the connection between the emcee and the DJ. There is no question that these two core elements of hip-hop have become detached as of late. Although producer albums are literally a dime-a-dozen these days, the same cannot be said for DJs. And when a DJ does release a record, it’s typically a mix of older tracks primed for use at a party. But Revolution, a huge name in the underground West Coast scene, is not the stereotypical master of the wheels of steel. He uses King of the Decks to showcase his own talents and the skills of his friends, which range from DJ QBert to KRS-One to Evidence.

As for our host, Revolution’s insane abilities on the ones and twos are clear from the jump-off. And he makes sure to take a scratching solo on nearly every track. He isn’t just a turntable jockey, though. “Do Your Thing”, featuring Guilty Simpson and Royce Da 5’9”, is an instant standout based on the emcees alone. But Revolution easily matches their killer flows perfectly with a funky beat. Another highlight features Dilated Peoples member Rakaa Iriscience, who shines over the mellow “Casualties of Tour”. Other tracks begging for repeated listens are the video game-sampling “EY”, Boot Camp Clik feature “Start the Revolution”, and tough guy-rap anthem “Damage”. Some weaker tracks attempt to hinder the album, like “Funky Piano” and “The Big Top”, both lame attempts at braggadocio. But in the end, King of the Decks is a solid, albeit lengthy, listen that’s as cohesive as it is varied. [Amazon]