Lavender Diamond

Imagine Our Love

Label: Matador Records
Release Date: 02/20/07

I drove around one Sunday afternoon while listening to Imagine Our Love, Lavender Diamond’s debut full length for Matador Records. I figured a Sunday afternoon might’ve been the best time to listen to them. It was a sunny and calm early afternoon with Lavender Diamond acting as the soundtrack for the trip. Earlier this year, they released an E.P., The Cavalry of Light shortly after a well received stint opening for the Decemberists in Europe over the winter. The four songs were absolutely stunning, yet it seemed like the rest of the world had a lot of catching up to do, which is where Imagine Our Love comes in. I question those who aren’t at least dazzled by a second of it. It boggles my mind that even having a high profile opening slot with a band like the Decemberists and being featured as “Myspace Band of the Week,” you’d think the citizens of the candy-store indie rock world would be trampling each other to get a grip on this, but I still have yet to see their name plastered on messenger bags and pins.

As I continued to drive around, it struck me. Lavender Diamond are the guilt free alternative to just about every cheesy thing you might have cried to such as the moments you spent crying over some dead animal in a Disney film or singing along cracked-vocal style to the Carpenters on the radio. It’s a soundtrack to being able to mope around for a bit with a glimmer of hope that shines pretty damn bright.

I’ve seen Lavender Diamond grouped into the same class as all these bands who are associated with “freak/psych-folk” or “New Weird Americana,” and if you ask me, that’s a bloody travesty. There are no annoying misplaced noisy lo-fi gimmicks over junkie-strummed acoustic guitars. Sure, the first impression might entail that they might come across as indie rock eccentrics who come to your local record store digging through the 45 sections for folk and early 1970s easy listening. Their sound recalls the pre-classic rock era with post-hippie fallout where things didn’t get so glamorous and overblown. Personally, I’m not a big fan of the whole 1970s lite AM radio folk-pop revival, and while Lavender Diamond happens to use some of those elements, they tend to do so in a way that makes them sound less generic than many acts doing a similar style. Sometimes, they come across as a reconfigured Camera Obscura for the Grand Ole Opry crowd, evident in the bouncy “My Shadow is a Monday.” Sunday morning piano is prominent in many tracks, especially in the intro to “Dance Until Tomorrow,” which gives you a calm feeling that you’re walking into a church of a different kind of worship. A beat that would fit at home during hand clap unison arena rock anthems has its essence captured and translated through a broken-hearted folk-rock song in the opener, “Oh No.” “When will I love again?,” is the question raised by vocalist, Becky Stark, who expresses it in a way that even married couples would begin to scratch their heads at their own long term romance. She sings in such a genuinely beautiful and haunting way that I’d probably shed a tear if she sang with a cold due because it’d still sound endearing and honest. Her range is rather versatile and it’s great to hear Becky give a ghostly quality to a repetitive, yet nonetheless engaging composition in the semi-psychedelic/tribal vibe that surrounds, “Like An Arrow.”

I must point out that as much as the music speaks for the band itself, there is a huge visual side to Lavender Diamond. The artwork is rather vibrant and supplied by the drummer, Ron Rege Jr., who happens to be a talented cartoonist. Within the layout, all of the lyrics are accompanied by an drawn interpretation, a illustrated representation of the song, if you will. Also, “Open You Heart,” one of the more playful sounding tracks on the record, was released as a single and the video for it features Becky roller skating down the road accompanied by a bunch of folks who look like they just got out of the 80s nite dayglo dance party. Believe me, it’s cute.

There’s so much about this record that has to be seen and heard in order to appreciate it. The last song on the album closes with another question, “When you wake for certain, will you still be hurting?” I have no proper way of answering that for myself other than waking up and knowing that it’s pretty refreshing and inviting to hear the sounds of Imagine Our Love come out of the speakers at any waking hour. It gives hope.

Lavender Diamond - Open Your Heart

I didn’t know who the opener for Bjork was going to be until a day or two before the show, and I basically went into a seizure of joy when West Congo’s electro-trance group Konono No. 1 was announced. Two seemingly inaccessible European artists, both somehow equal parts fun and experimental. I walked into this night with huge expectations (the 90 dollar ticket-cost helped).

Konono No. 1: So freaking awesome! Gah! I know these reviews are supposed to be intellectual and objective but the gut response wins here. They were not, unfortunately, using all equipment made from garbage as made them famous (though certainly some), but they did have giant metal megaphones at the front of the stage for the vocals. This gave the singers that tinny, distant quality from the recordings and made an amusing image next to the unused giant Radio City speakers. There were three people on thumb-pianos (the weird electronic-ish percussion sounds on the album), one functioned as a bass (this was the lead singer’s) and two switched off rhythm and lead duties. Then one guy was on a snare drum and a few cymbals, and one on drums reminiscent of congas and a whistle. There was also a woman whose only joob was a shimmy and shake her hips the whole time. This is now my dream job.    

They seemed to be having a great time, they played 3 songs for about a 40 to 45 minute set, and as great as it was I feel Konono’s music is wholly communal at its roots and they just didn’t know how to translate that feel into a large sit down venue. I desperately wanted to stand up and just start dancing around the way it SHOULD happen at a Konono show, but the few people who did stand up to dance were being yelled at by lazy hipsters who just wanted to sit back and hear hyper-ballad. However, my good friend Dave Napier caught Konono at their Black Cat show in DC and confirms that in a smaller standing room venue, the whole crowd really was instantly launched into an hour long dancing frenzy. I am jealous. Still, the performance was a reminder that Konono is using minimal resources to create some of the most interesting music out right now, and if you’re down for something chill with a solid beat to it, I highly recommend you check out Congotronics.

Bjork: The most fascinating aspect of the night, for me, was simply being in the same space as Bjork. I don’t necessarily mean this in a weird fanatic since, but when she walked out on stage and started singing I was stunned in my dumb realization that she is not some complex idea or alien or superhero, she is just a small person with a big voice and bigger ambitions. I know that sounds ridiculous but it made me sit and think about what she has done and really respect her more than I ever had when she seemed to distant and unreal. But back to the reviewing.   

The live cast included a 12 piece all-female icelandic brass band (with flags mounted on them), Mark Bell on electronics, Chris Corsano on drums, and a keyboardist and another electronic musician I didn’t recognize. There were two large plasma screens using some sort of technology to project trippy neon close-ups of the work the electonic engineers were doing during the set, which was not only really cool but helped me semi-relate to a instrumentation entirely foreign to me. This technology was matched in the impressive light show involving intricate laser and projection work, as well as pyrotechincs such as the giant explosion of flame at the opening hit of Earth Intruders.

Guest appearances ran beautifully rampant that night. Konono No. 1 came out with their thumb-pianos during Earth Intruders (though this moment was actually more awkward that aurally interesting); Antony came onstage for the gorgeous duet from the new record “Dull Flame of Desire”; and Toumani Diabaté came from Japan to play his sitar-like Kora on “I See Who You Are.”

The new material is wonderful and was really tight in a live setting. Antony’s duet with Bjork was phenomenal live (and did not seem as long winded as on recording), and Diabatés work was mindblowing. I read a Time Out interview with Bjork where she said he is the only musician she knew that she could sincerely consider a sage with his instrument, and watching the speed and and frantic beauty with which he played I can understand. The set-list was fantastic mix of old material too, the highlights of the night unquestionably being “Pagan Poetry” and “All is Full of Love” in their new brass-heavy arrangements. However, I must complain, there was no Hyperballad and no Unravel. I heard Chris Corsano (used to working alone) messed up the tempo of hyperballad at Coachella and threw everyone off, so I’m willing to forgive, but there’s no drums in unravel! It’s my favorite song so I was a little dissapointed by ending on the straightforward rave track “Declare Independence,” which seemed to suggest in every way a second encore that never came.

I couldn’t think of a better concert to end my first year living in New York. I remember thinking, this is the place where an Icelandic experimental pop genius shares the stage with a british electronic wonder, an American avant-garde drummer, a Japanese Kora virtuoso, and Manhattan singer-songwriter, and a revolutionary trance band from The West Congo all in one night. It was as if the universal netting of progressive art had been pulled in to a single point in a single moment to remind us that we truly do live in the most exciting times.

Don’t forget to buy Volta and all of Bjork’s other albums at Relative Theory. She’s amazing, blah blah blah it’s all true.

Set-list:
Earth Intruders
Venus as a Boy
Aurora
I See Who You Are
Oceania
Dull Flame of Desire
All is Full of Love
The Pleasure is All Mine
Pagan Poetry
Jóga
Where is the Line
Army of Me
Innocence
Wanderlust
Pluto

Encore:
The Anchor Song
Declare Independence

Internal Links:
Bjork Earth Intruders Single

External Links:
Bjork’s Website
One Little Indian Records
Bjork’s Myspace
Konono No. 1’s Website

When Junior Boys played the Bowery Ballroom back in September, they were clad in stark white jumpsuits with large popped collars and laceless white shoes that set the mood of detached ambience pretty quickly. Thus, it was rather strange for me this time when the duo took the stage and were wearing their normal street clothes (jeans, plaid shirts, etc.), making them out to be average Canadian indie rockers and not the spaced out techno-pop wondergroup they really are. But at the end of the day, the outfit’s just an outfit, and while Junior Boys may have gone backwards in wardrobe, they’re performance was even tighter than it was last time.

While the duo primarily works in synths and programming, for live shows Jeremy Greenspan switches between bass and guitar and covers vocals, while engineer Matt Didemus covers the pre-recorded music and the multiple synthesizers. Though drum machines alone keep the rhythms on the albums, on tour Junior Boys bring along a drummer that plays alongside (note: not in place of) the drum machine. In September I remember noting that the choice was interesting, but occasionally the double rhythm section could get cumbersome and clunky. This time, however, the drumming was much tighter and better married to the drum machine, and they syncopated together to form a backbone that was both innovative and organic.

This show reminded me how solid their music really is, and how quickly it can entrance masses of concertgoers into a thick, pulsating dance with gorgeous, ethereal synth-pop. The sound was carefully mixed so each new wave of synthesizers could wash gently over us, layer by layer, in contrast with the beating stacatto rhythms that led us in our calm sway. As my body slowly grooved, my eyes closed and I drifted through my mind to my fantasy high school prom, where Depeche Mode is the band and we all swim our arms slowly through the air in a hypnotic 80’s love dance; part naive emotional teenagers, part 21st century love robots.

The set-list was fantastic, especially the seven minute closer “Under the Sun,” whose subtle and nuanced programming lapped at our chests and lulled us into speechlessness. Overall, I’d say this show wasn’t much different from the last one. Junior Boys put on a great performance with a very specific trancey mood that I’ve come to love. I can’t recommend enough that you check out the last two records and make an effort to catch their live show if it’s anywhere near you.

Domino Records also recently released an E.P. of remixes from the most recent Junior Boys album So This Is Goodbye called The Dead Horse EP. The tracks include remixes from various electronic artists, notably a fantastic 10 minute version of “In The Morning” by Hot Chip. Or, if you don’t already have So This is Goodbye, Domino will be re-releasing it as a special edition which will include these remixes plus a live iTunes session on June 5.

Set List:
Count Souvenirs
The Equalizer
Teach Me How To Fight
Like a Child
Birthday
Double Shadow
So This is Goodbye
In The Morning
More Than Real

Encore:
Under The Sun

External Links
Junior Boys Website
Stream Junior Boys Music
Junior Boys Myspace
Domino Records 

Internal Links
Junior Boys and Ensemble at Bowery Ballroom September 7, 2006 
Review of Junior Boys So This Is Goodbye

Presents Shock Value

Label: Blackground/Interscope
Release Date: 04/03/07

I understand why Timbaland’s profile is so high these days… he had a hand in a few of the most ubiquitous singles of the last year, after all, but why is this being dubbed a comeback? He has indeed been here for years, its not like a constant share of hit singles ever stopped having his name on them. The hype for his recent artist-cum-wall-to-wall-cast-of-guests-megafamous-and-less-so album, “Timbaland Presents Shock Value”, seems to have overlooked that, with or without Magoo (which would be a great title for a collaboration between Timbaland and U2), Timbaland has already done four of these. “Shock Value” is somewhat par for the course on that scale (perhaps excepting the first album with Magoo, “Welcome 2 Our World”, which is an overlooked gem of a progressive pop record). His albums tend to have some amazing moments and predictably immaculate, creative production, weighed down by the presence of some listless, empty songs, a few absolute clunkers, and the unfortunate vocal presence of Timbaland. Despite possessing a good voice, Timbaland thinks in sound rather than words, which is why he sounds best imitating record scratches or chanting two words or less, and every time he goes farther than that it is either squeamishly embarrassing or hilarious in none of the ways he intends. Some blend of ghostwriting and enthusiasm allows Timbaland to coast through the album inducing minimal winces, but it is always odd to hear the best producer in the world work with the most awkward vocalist in the world, and this happens often when Timbaland makes his own albums.

“Shock Value” comes on strong. The first five cuts sound great, sporting crackling, thumping, eccentric beats and tweaks that should please heads hip hop, pop, and dance, and generally anybody who can appreciate strong, daring pop music. Such an amazing opening passage makes one think Timbaland may be delivering the great album length combination of radio/club friendly saavy and wild experimentation that he seems capable of, maybe even contending with Basement Jaxx for genius embodying dumb pop and genius virtuosity simultaneously. This is the part that sports the monster single “Give It To Me” and most of the star power (Justin Timberlake, Nelly Furtado…) for the top 40 set. This passage culminates in “Bounce”, a crushing club vamp with Timberlake, Missy Elliott, and Dr. Dre (uniting the two most important figures in hip hop who can’t competently rap) that will literally give your ass the hiccups. Literally.

Then comes 50 Cent to fuck up the whole album on “Come and Get Me”. A theory I’ve tested here is that there are not really as many wack cuts on Timbaland albums as there seems, but the bad ones are so bad that they cast an obnoxious pall over much that follows. On the track, 50’s presence seems to inspire everybody else to get ugly and suck too. The album picks up afterward with a string of rather good collaborations with friends like Magoo and Keri Hilson. Timbaland is probably the best at delivering sleek, modern bizarro world incarnations of new wave electrofunk memories. Alone, this would sound like material for a solid, enduring album, particularly “Boardroom” and “Miscommunication”, but after five amazing tracks and a genital shrinking album rape by 50 Cent, it sounds like Mr. I Got Shot has bummed everybody out and they forgot that they were making a great record.

Towards the end, Timbaland reveals his big “shock”, which is that he has ended up where visionary hip hop artists usually do, that is sick and tired of hip hop and wanting to make rock music. I could go into great detail explaining why modern commercial rock is far more uninspired, stale and exhausted than its hip hop counterpart, but it is hard to argue against the grass is greener mindset. I suppose after years of brilliant reinventions being appropriated, imitated into pedestrianism, and dragged into the muck of ephemeral radio product, it may seem like the Hot Topic heroes are where its really at. Hence, the last part of “Shock Value” boasts songs with The Hives, Fall Out Boy, She Wants Revenge and other caucasian candy rebellion confections. None of this is bad, per se. If anything it proves that Timbaland could make any number of Warped Tour acts more fun to listen to, but it is a pale shadow of the genius that began this album.

As if to hammer this devolution home, Timbaland ends the album with an icon of irrecognizably diminished pop brilliance, Elton John. Their song, “2 Man Show” is not good or bad, it just almost seems nonpresent. A massive choir is used to no particular effect to say nothing, Elton plinks away on the piano indifferently, and Timbaland carries the lead vocal to mutter silly nonstatements despite being surrounded by 20+ better singers and a rock legend know for singing. “Shock Value” ends up being another mixed bag that keeps Timbaland from getting his just due from album oriented rockers. Timbaland, like fellow from the area but based elsewhere beatslingers the Neptunes, has made more forward thinking, odd, perfect music that changed how we listen than almost anybody else in any genre. Perhaps this hyperactive creativity is what leads him to follow bad ideas too far and what will forever inhibit him from making an entirely satisfying artist album. Upon repeat listenings, the bad moments of “Shock Value” diminish somewhat in their offensiveness and more details reveal themselves to tell how good most of it really is.

Jarvis

Label: Rough Trade
Release Date: 04/03/07

As a celebrity worshipping whore, there are many men I have at some time or another thought I wanted to be. Stanley Kubrick. Johnny Depp. Allen Iverson. An odd addition to this fluctuating list is Jarvis Cocker, formerly the frontman and creative leader for Pulp. He’s pale, awkward and skinny, fortysomething, sports huge glasses, and he’s British. While all of these things are intuitively minuses, Jarvis Cocker wears them perfectly in a fashion that I can only gaze at in awe. Having established my borderline homoerotic infatuation with Jarvis Cocker, perhaps I should write a little bit about his new album, simply titled “Jarvis.”

“Jarvis” is a mature pop masterstroke that can stand proudly beside Pulp classics like the blockbuster “Different Class” and the jet black diamond that was “This Is Hardcore.” It may seem odd for an artist his age to finally get around to releasing his self-titled debut, especially considering that the Pulp albums were essentially his anyway. It makes sense, though, as “Jarvis” comes off as a casually perfect showcase for the skills he has sharpened over his years of experience, mainly keen pop instincts, rock solid song craftsmanship, impeccable lyricism and sharp, cynical wit.

“Jarvis” may be a statement on just who Mr. Cocker is and what he does best, but it also deserves to be upheld as what aging rockers should sound like. It generally doesn’t sound as big as the Pulp material did, and it doesn’t need to. Cocker never uses too much on any song, but this is not a “stripped down” minimal effort full of acoustic guitars in a vacuum destined to earn critical praise while boring listeners to tears (Springsteen, I’m looking in your direction). Avoiding both the desperate grasp at epic rock relevance and antifun unpluggedness, Cocker simply delivers his calling card as one of the great songwriters of his time, sprinkling the exact amount of accoutrement each song needs to have the correct effect, seemingly without breaking a sweat.

Don’t let me mislead you to think that this is entirely a quiet, intimate affair. Tracks like “Fat Children” and “Don’t Let Him Waste Your Time” legitimately rock, and they rock hard at that. Songs like “Baby’s Coming Back To Me” and “Tonite,” on the other hand, are light as the breeze and incredibly pleasurable. In a display of raw cockiness, Cocker borrows an immortal melody (“Crimson and Clovers”) and actually improves upon it with “Black Magic.” Cocker is always at his best when he gets dark, as seen in tracks like “Disney Time” and “Quantum Theory,” which has a faint touch of Scott Walker, who Cocker worked with on the last Pulp album. All of this is laced with the trademark bitter Cocker wit. The highlight is full of ironically comfortable details of middle aged malaise, achieving the Garrison Keillor trick of delivering dark, depressing material in a secretly satirical affectionate, cozy package, before building up to the certain, resigned declaration that “I Will Kill Again.” “Jarvis” is a necessary record, the kind that bears the instant vintage stamp of songs so good they seem instantly timeless, destined to nourish fans of well crafted pop music for years to come.

Jarvis Cocker - Don‘t Let Him Waste Your Time

Label: Polyvinyl
Release Date: 04/10/07

Oh man, this is just wrong. It seems Polyvinyl is taking a break from promoting the likes of Decibully and Of Montreal to bring you XBXRX. Despite being around for close to ten years, regardless of who drops their name and produces them, I think these guys fall flat with what seems to be a bad update of late 1970s no wave.

So on their most recent release, Wars, these guys are coming off like that band in your town who you can’t stand. Somehow they get on shows you’re at and you wonder, “Why the fuck?” We have a vocalist who yelps like grade school Cedric Bixler over noisy, agitated and mildly danceable music. Even the music a mild similarity to the freakouts found on an At the Drive In record, only if you blended it with a malfunctioning computer game. I can’t really take it seriously. The chaotic moods on this album sound so dated and forced, yet it gets them opening slots on Sonic Youth tour dates. To an untrained and inexperienced ear, you might think a bunch of artsy indie rocker types found a Das Oath record and sucked all the disgust and anger out of it. I also get the feeling that this sort of thing goes over well with reformed pop punk kids who wanted more challenging music and thought the Locust was the most amazing band ever, so they end up starting a band that sounds similar to XBXRX. There are many bands who pulled off the “weird guys with the off timing musicianship” thing way before XBXRX did.

Maybe if it wasn’t for the opening track, “Center Where Sight,” I probably would have gave this band more credit. Instead, that song reminds me of a carnival that I do not want to be at. Many of the songs on this have an odd garage rock guitar tone to it, but with more of an annoying feel. “Suffocation” comes off like an aerobics song gone to hell. “Eighth War” employs those start-stop manic and rapid rhythms which have been done to death and we all know that we’ve heard enough from previous accomplishments by early Dillinger Escape Plan recordings. Lyrically, some songs range from being stream of consciousness junkie poetry while others actually have a decipherable meaning, such as the anti-religious undertones on “Minds,” which comes off like a resignation set to a five year old’s loose translation of what metal should sound like. The closing track, “Ear Ever Hear,” might be the most engaging composition, bringing every idea presented previously back in a two minute swirl of insanity. .

Personally, I want to dismiss this as cacophonous clown shit. I imagine clown shit to be colorful with a lot of inspiration for ideas, but I’m reminded that it’s still fecal matter and it isn’t funny or engaging.

XBXRX - Center Where Sight

The show begins, and right out of the gates come the first two tracks from their newest release The Crane Wife. The Crane Wife pt. 3 was a good opener, and The Island that followed was a dream come true as this is possibly my favorite song (/ set of songs) by the band. My issue at first was that after 3 songs into the set the band still looked completely uninterested in the show that they were performing, the songs sounded fantastic, but there were a lot of blank stares from band members who looked as though they could care less.

This all changed drastically as the night went on. Breezing through quite a few Crane Wife tracks, some of the highlights of the night included: The Infanta, which was delivered at the perfect time and with the best storytime lead in Colin could have mustered up, Here I Dreamt I Was an Architecht, one of only two songs played from my favorite Decemberists record (Castaways and Cutouts) was a great crowd pleaser, and Sixteen Military Wives, was a beautiful sing along. Throughout the night there were conversations with the audience, pushup contests on stage between the band members, intentional mispronunciations of Norfolk (yes… Nor’Fuck’ …you guessed it) and many other instances to show that the band had indeed broken out of their shell and warmed up to us.

To close the show they played an unbelievable version of When the War Came, that displayed Colin’s ‘Rockstar trapped in a pretentious art rockers body’ side as he wailed out solos rolling on the ground, and broke strings and threw his (gorgeous) Les Paul around on stage. The encore brought a Fleetwood Mac cover, and the crowd favorite Mariner’s Revenge Song, and the night ended with close to two thousand happy fans leaving the NorVa still singing along to songs that had ended over an hour ago, and discussing the setlist.

My opinion of the night: I loved the concert. I thought the look of the show was top notch and the sound quality that they pulled off was unmatched by most bands that come through the NorVa. My only qualm from the whole night was the setlist itself. It drew very heavily from The Crane Wife, which i dont mind too much, but almost every song from the album was played. This would not be so bad, but i feel like there were too many essential Decemberists back catalog songs that were sacrificed for the new tunes. We Both Go Down Together, The Engine Driver, The Legionnaire’s Lament, The Soldiering Life, The Chimbley Sweep, and I Was Meant For The Stage all were left out. I definitely think that instead of a Fleetwood Mac cover as encore song #1 that one of these great tunes should have taken the spot.

All in all it is hard to complain when you get to see an amazing concert. This band is on top of there game, and their decision to sign with Capitol has only helped them as far as i am concerned. All of the band equipment is top of the line, and they have never sounded better.

Label: Republic
Release Date: 03/13/07

I think almost every full blooded American male had a relationship with that one girl everyone said to stay away from. She was the textbook definition of dysfunctional. She had tremendous low self esteem. She abused some substance whether it was alcohol or drugs. She always got you in trouble. She had a long history of boyfriends to the point where it was stupid to even think about being jealous. No matter how many beatdowns you received for being with her or how many times your mother threatened to kick you out of the house the next time you bring her around, you still stuck around. None of us can front. She provided some good lovin’. Let’s be real. When the chips were down she was always there for you with a straight razor ready to bring hell to whomever or whatever. That girl is Amy Winehouse, another soulful Brit import.

Like most Brit imports, we just can’t get enough of her. Back to Black is her second outing. She again teams up with the man who saved the career of the Fugees from the brink of obscurity in the mid 90’s, Salaam Remi. Who would think that someone crazier than Whitney Houston (imagine that) could capture our hearts. Amy Winehouse really takes us back. Her music sounds new yet comes off as vintage. It is one of those rare albums that you play from track one all the way to the bonus track.

The first single off the album, “Rehab,” is based on the fact that her original management company asked her to enter a drug rehabilitation center. She refused and got new management. Despite its history, the song is addictive and stays on the stereo rotation. Winehouse describes her issues with relationships in “You know I’m no Good” and “Love is a Losing Game.” The tracks that really touch one’s heart are “Tears dry on their Own” and “Wake up Alone.” The bonus track is a remix of “You Know I’m no Good” which features Ghostface Killah in his most misogynistic 12 bar appearance to date.

I have to admit as much as I enjoy the album, there is a time and place for it. It’s not something I see my daughter singing along to. While it is disturbing to encounter teenage girls singing these tunes (I encounter at least two a week), one can’t really blame them. Amy Winehouse is that girl. I wonder what ever happened to her?

Amy Winehosue - Myspace

Label: Warcon
Release Date: 01/30/07

I opened up the booklet for this CD and there’s tons of photos within it. There is a picture of Chad Smith of the Red Hot Chili Peppers looking at Glenn Hughes while both are playing violin. Chad has that “Are you sure?” look. The last page has Chad in his “dumbfounded with the index finger to the chin” pose. Well Chad, not only did you co-produce it, but you played drums on the album and recorded it in your house…dude.

For those that do not know, Glenn Hughes stepped in on bass for the old British classic rock band, Deep Purple. He was also one of many scab vocalists for Black Sabbath. Glenn also collaborated with the KLF on their single, “America: What Time is Love?” Honestly, I had no idea and I do not know what to make of this. This was a sack beating. No, that’s too harsh. It was a sack beating done by a heavily sedated man, but you have to give him credit for trying.

As if there weren’t enough arena rock clichés from the 1970s being revived today, this recording starts out with that epic foreboding effects laden guitar riff that will have a whole arena handclapping in unison. It’s like someone made “Baba O’ Riley” super lame and Incubus stepped in to do the extended circus performance. Oh my god, by the two minute mark of the second song, “Steppin’ On,” not only do we get the progressive rock keyboard run, but it serves as a signal for the gratuitous wah-wah pedal jam that would embarrass George Clinton and make him deny any responsibility for popularizing the use of wah-wah pedals. Much of this album suffers from Chili Pepper-isms, then again, Chad Smith co-produced and even John Frusciante appears as well, whose contribution is listed as “guitar experience.” Okay? Not only is this album peppered with the funk rock tendencies of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Glenn Hughes manages to craft songs that come off like a weak Soundgarden.

Thankfully, my ears were given a rest from the overuse of wah-wah pedals as the alterna-ballad, “This House,” toned things down a bit with acoustic guitars and a string section. Typical however, that Glenn and the gang have to bring back the funk in the following track,”You Got Soul.” Then it’s back to the mellow number in “Frail,” which comes off like a guilty pleasure classic rock ballad, you know, the one with the “rocking” part? However, seriously, there’s way too many wah-wah pedals on this one. How about some chorus or delay pedals? No? Okay. I guess I can settle for acoustic strums and instruments best left to John Paul Jones of Led Zeppelin, or something like that.

It seems like Glenn is really into his music though. If you read the liner notes, it’s like reading a clueless hippie’s love letter to the world. In regards to recording at Chad Smith’s house, Glenn states: “The house is filled with love. I hope you can feel it.” Oh, I can feel it, but I’m fine being single. I guess this is the result of some 50-ish British guy residing in California who managed to miss out on musical trends that happened in the last 17 years. Living off royalty checks from Black Sabbath and Deep Purple will do that to you. It’s like your 45 year old dad making a record and you’re like, “Hey, it’s pretty good, dad, but I gotta go. That one band who rips off Gang of Four is playing down the street.”

Glenn Hughes - Myspace

Label: Zedtone
Release Date: 02/06/07

I had trouble finding the right words to justify why I enjoyed Eleni Mandell’s Miracle of Five. My curiosity led me to it and I found myself listening to it almost every day since I got my hands on it. Some days, I’m the “angry man music” type and the other days, well, let’s just describe that as “the music I listen to when my friends aren’t in the car with me” genre. I’d have to say, this is some great “late night loner” music that has made ending most nights more appropriate than others. So all of you young boy-men types, myself included, let’s welcome another artist into that post-midnight playlist of ours. Some artists make me feel as if I’m walking through a wooded area on a winter day. Eleni Mandell keeps me in a cluttered studio apartment as I drag myself to a window looking down on the city streets. I wonder to myself, “Geez, why am I spending this night alone…again?”

This is my first time hearing Eleni Mandell. I did some research and it turns out that she put out quite a few recordings prior to Miracle of Five. There are some accomplished musicians backing her on this record. Other than guitarist extraordinaire Nels Cline and DJ Bonebrake from the influential Los Angeles punk band, X, we also have a cast of musicians who’ve backed such artists as Beck, Elliot Smith, and Merle Haggard. You, the listener, should be impressed! If I had to set the mood for this album, just imagine the first time you saw Breakfast at Tiffany’s and fast forward to that scene where a future A-Team member looks in awe as Audrey Hepburn strums an acoustic guitar and sings a solemn number. Somehow, Eleni Mandell manages to capture that feeling perfectly. With her voice, Eleni sounds like she can be a seductive flirt, but her vocal style comes off more like the equivalent of a semi-platonic friend of yours that gives great hugs and whispers in your ear, “I had a great time.” Many of the songs have a similar formula of a jazzy, slow motion groove similar to the torch singers of yesteryear. Other songs have a mild alt-country feel to it that fans of Jenny Lewis can appreciate, but despite the underlying cuteness on this album, I feel Eleni’s material seems less sugary than Jenny Lewis. Dare I say, it seems more sincere?

“All I need is a rainbow and true love just like sugar in my coffee” is what she states in the rather excellent opener, “Moonglow, Lamp Low.” I can’t help but feel the need to relate. Even though it’s too early in the year to say so, this might be the most pleasant things I’ve heard in 2007.

Eleni Mandell’s - MySpace