Monday, March 29, 2004
I've been thinking about the Indigo Girls a lot lately. They were on a karaoke machine at a friend's party recently, and their playlist posted to iTunes a few weeks ago was pleasantly surprising: not only was it far more generous than most other celebrity playlists in the collection (20 recommended songs as opposed to the usual 10-12) but more adventurous (Heart, Patti Smith, classical, t.A.T.u, Team Dresch, The Distillers, The Shins, The Clash, etc.).
And they've released a strong new album, All That We Let In.
I was amazed by a few of the songs ("Yield," "Become You," "Moment of Forgiveness") on their previous album, Become You--upbeat, concise, exciting and a great update on their original sound. I haven't found a single song on this album up to the level of "Yield," but, what's just as exciting, this is the first Indigo Girls album in ages that I enjoy listening to all the way through. On the new album (with album art by an alternative comic guru Jaime Hernandez, reminiscent of Aimee Mann's recent Lost in Space) the Girls have continued refining the sound of Become You, freshening up their 2-part harmonies and folk-influenced sound, ranging from acoustic balladry to almost-rock anthems. My working thesis for the moment: the worst in politics has brought out the best in these musicians. Here they've written a couple of anthemic protest songs, but I'm pleasantly surprised by the complexity of the ideas (these lyrics won't fit on placards). ("Tether," as a meditation on war and peace, offers no easy answers. "Rise Up," to judge by the title, sounds like it'll be a tiresome political exhortation but is anything but--it's about, I think, an old hunting dog and the power of music?)
Personally, I prefer Amy Ray's work to Emily Saliers', even if Saliers will get them more airplay. Over their nearly two-decade career, Saliers' ballad formula's gotten tired, her music depressing and lyrics too often straining to be profound (though I imagine those are just the songs that are most prized by some fans). To her credit, here Saliers has her share of fun, with "Fill It Up Again" kicking off the album with a sense of wit. Saliers takes familiar 90s environmentalist metaphors and turns them into something personal and unique. The production of the entire album is light and fresh, with organ, piano, accordion and whimsical percussion used in a minimalist way to keep the sound bouncy and mellow. The sequencing (which alternates Saliers/Ray numbers) is inspired. Ray's best numbers are "Dairy Queen" and "Cordova," darker, more somber songs that show off her lower register and unique gift for melody (the verse for Dairy Queen, for instance, sounds like the work of someone used to singing alto harmonies), set to somewhat more rock-tinged accompaniment. I've always felt the best is yet to come from Any Ray, and that's an exciting thought, but on this album I really started to appreciate what her partnership with Saliers adds to her songwriting.
I'm looking forward to hearing what comes next.
Saturday, March 27, 2004
"And just a little pinch of soda"
A trio of great songs that I recently purchased from iTunes:
"Too Close for Comfort" sung by Sammy Davis, Jr.
I've never been all that interested in the Rat Pack, though I know they've been considered hip again recently, esp. since Ocean's Eleven. And I've never been interested in Sammy Davis before, probably because I'd been turned off by wretched imitations (by the likes of, ugh, Billy Crsystal at the Oscars) and "Candy Man" jokes. But I recently heard this song, a jazzy number about the dangers and thrill of sexual attraction, showcased in a wonderful local production called Pulp. I didn't even recognize Davis' voice. His performance is mellow and smooth, with a cool jazzy style that never overwhelms the material.
"Love has Got Me Crying Again" by Denise James
I heard this on a listening booth and had to have it. James sings in a
50s/60s vein and in that way reminds me a little of Holly Golightly, only Golightly is a covers artist, whereas James writes her own material. This song is a wistful gem and melodically it reminds me of my favorite Zombies songs, the guitar work reminiscent of the early Beatles & The Byrds.
"The Hideout" by Sarah Harmer
A lovely post-breakup recovery song, my favorite of the moment. I can't get it out of my head. The beginning of the verse reminds me a little of Victoria Williams in the conversational freedom of its melodic shape and in the lush, folksy setting of the story (green grass after rain, clothes on the clothesline), but Harmer's voice is a bit more in the crooner vein of her compatriot Sarah McLachlan. The chorus is very catchy, and reminds me a bit of a Shins song I heard recentlty. A folk-acoustic number, this heartfelt song reminds me why I loved so many of the female singer-songwriters who were pushed out of the spotlight in the late nineties when the media got bored with them.
Tuesday, March 16, 2004
The Village Voice has run a sobering bit of reporting by Thulani Davis about a survey that suggests mainstream hip hop has played a role in spreading dangerously sexist attitudes and, worse, practices, among the kids who grew up on it. (Though, duh, sexism exists throughout U.S. culture. Rampantly.) Personally I think a bigger issue is the problem of how to promote sex positive attitudes (liberation and pleasure) in a world where sex can have very dangerous cosequences, which are constantly glossed over in pop culture.
Many thanks to the friend who lost no time leaping onto the hype bandwagon for Franz Ferdinand and nimbly ferreting out the hottest homoerotic song in a long time ("Michael"). The song expresses a man's inner desire to have sex with a guy he sees on the dance floor, and I get the impression this is one of those "Even I felt that" moments of cross-orientation attraction. (As when a hot woman walks by and the gay guy says to his gay friend, Wow! Even I felt that!) It's sung in a sexy voice that ranges from snarl to moan, whisper to yell, very masculine, very yummy.
Based on a couple spins, the s/t album is strong but highly reminiscent of other popular bands of the moment, some of which I love (Strokes, Interpol), some of which I like (Hot Hot Heat) and some of which I don't (Rapture). The horniest songs on the album are by far the best.
Sunday, March 07, 2004
No idea if it's any good, but this CD has one of the best titles I've seen in a while: Gravity Gets Things Done by The Pale.
Saturday, March 06, 2004
I meant to blog this up weeks ago, but... The 2003 Pazz & Jop poll was released recently. That's a survey of music journalists (tending, I gather, towards the alternative newspaper types) that comes out every year. This year top album and single were by Outkast. In Christgau's accompanying commentary on the poll, I was surprised to see him championing indie worthies such as Fountains of Wayne, Four Tet, and the Libertines! (I was also surprised to learn that The Shins, Belle & Sebastian, and Grandaddy cracked the Billboard Top 100 album charts.) He also opined that Jay-Z's album's-worth of guest spots on other rappers' albums was better than his much-ballyhooed bow-out.
As for "Hey Ya," the survey's single of the year, I've been wanting to write about it for a while. I've been amazed at the broad appeal of the song, and am glad about it--I even agree that it's the song of the year. But I also think that after a hell of a verse, the chorus is kind of puny. Just sing it out loud to yourself with no music in the background and you'll see what I mean. It fizzles. Hey ya. (pause). Hey ya. But then it rallies with the much-quoted (even in the primaries?!), "shake it like a polaroid picture"--awesome. (Heehee. Silly related news.) So I don't know if it's one of the best songs ever in pop, but I think it's a big improvement over "Ms. Jackson," which I liked at first but then morphed into one of those sticky songs that tortures you when you get it stuck in your head.
