On the eve of the Mountain Oasis Electronic Music Festival I’m whetting my appetite with a few of the more audacious spirits out there; a nice eclectic bath of “musical biscuits”! As always be sure to support our fine independent local shops; without them your music listening life would be fallow indeed.
ARP
“More”
Small Town Super Sound Records
With the release of “More” ARP wunderkind Alexis Georgopoulos moves even further from the bluster rock inclinations of his first two albums towards pop structures that, while hardly conventional, give the listener something to go by. He’s also wisely augmented the harsher techno beat aspects of his music with a bit of much needed familiarity:
I’m all for synthesizers but an acoustic piano and gently strummed guitar — not to mention a bit of pump organ — can go a long way towards giving a human element to music. Sure there’s an over reliance on drum programming but Georgopoulos also digs deeply into the sort of chamber pop that Van Dyke Parks and Richard Barone do so brilliantly.
For history buffs there’s a bit of Warm Jets era Brian Eno (the delightful “Judy Nylon”) while the sorrow laden bits of “Light + Sound” and “17th Daydream” could pass for a pair of Left Banke outtakes. But while Georgopoulos proudly embraces his influences he’s never beholden to them, making “More” much greater than some mere collage of nostalgia. Instead it’s one of the more pleasant surprises of the season and an album that lingers long after the experience has ended. ****
Sara Hickman
Shine
Kirtland Records
While a virtual icon in her home state — in 2010 she was even declared the Official State Musician of Texas — Sara Hickman has somehow managed to avoid the major league spotlight even thought her songs have been covered by the likes of Willie Nelson, Lyle Lovett, Shawn Colvin, Rhett Miller, and others.
She did flirt with a number one hit (the VH1 promoted I Couldn’t Help Myself”) and is a generally considered one of the most generous philanthropists and nicest people in the industry. So why isn’t she better known? Part of the reason lies in her refusal to make records that cater to the masses. In fact, her albums are often pejoratively considered insular, but that’s a charge Sara Hickman will tread with pride. Her records also tend to lack a thematic identity.
In some ways Hickman is a throwback to the 60s, when artists released a series of 45s before collecting them into a single entity. As such Shine is all over the stylistic map, but that’s much of its charm and durability.
From the confectionary pop of “Tasty Sweet” (“You’re the kind of boy I’d love to eat / Ice cream and honey, Tasty Sweet!”) to the oddly morose “Trouble With Boxes” this is go down easy music, Not simplistic mind you, but songs clearly intended to stick in the brain with cotton candy certainty. “Selfish Freak” is another peculiar turn, as Hickman dresses down her suitor in ways that make you almost feel sorry for the poor recipient of her vitriol.
Shine is a collection of contrasting songs, most of which blossomed out of a series of poems Hickman was working on. They do feel at time half formed but there’s a friendly vibe here that partially compensates for the ill defined final product. This may be a case of a record being less than the sum of its parts but there’s enough good stuff herein to balance the scales. ***
Neko Case
The Worse Things Get, The Harder I Fight, The Harder I Fight, The More I Love You
ANTI Records
Neko Case, who preceded the release of this album with a media blitz that included several interviews, has never been one to hide her true feelings. She can often across as brash, a bit overly defensive, and at times even contrived.
Her songs, on the other hand, are an entirely different matter; from the start she’s couched them in metaphors and illusory comments that made it difficult to separate the “real” Neko Case from the characters who inhabited her albums.
With the release of the wildly adventurous The Worse Things Get, The Harder I Fight, The Harder I Fight, The More I Love You (heretofore known as TWTG), a 12-track cornucopia of sound and fury, Case the public figure seems more closely hinged to her music. It’s her most exposed and rawest effort yet; as such it takes some getting used to but amply rewards the listener willing to invest in repeated listens.
Its dozen tracks are neatly divided between the quieter, more pensive moods of “I’m from Nowhere” and a beautifully redolent cover of Nico’s “Afraid”, both of which rely on sparse and unsettled arrangements, and the more foot to the pedal rockers “City Swans” and “Man”, the latter of which echoes Case’s earlier punk leanings.
At the core of the album are the mid-tempo bits which anchor the proceedings and balance the duality of Case’s life and artistry. While Case adorns the album with guest contributions from such heavy hitters as M. Ward and various members of Calexico, Los Lobos, Mudhoney, and My Morning Jacket (along with longtime collaborators The New Pornographers) her voice is still the centerpiece. And what a voice it is: at once sturdy and elastic, bellicose and warmly gentle.
Neko Case may just be the most unique stylist since the great Sandy Denny. With TWTG her songwriting chops have matured to a point that her dynamic vocals are no longer the raison d’être to buy her records, but rather an additional component to an already near perfect package. I’ll admit to initially finding Neko Case the public figure a bit off putting — she seemed to be wearing her punk creed in ways that seemed forced and shallow — but darned if I haven’t come around.
Give TWTG the consideration and contemplation it deserves and I can virtually promise you’ll do the same. ****1/2
Carly Ritter
S/T
Vanguard Records
As the granddaughter of Country and Western legend Tex Ritter (and daughter of actor John), Carly Ritter might easily be pigeonholed as a folk country artist. She did after all spend several years studying Scottish folk and Vanguard Records, to which she is attached, is known primarily as a folk label. So it comes as a pleasant surprise to discover the heavy 60s pop feel to her debut, a record that conjures up the delightful strands of Jackie DeShannon, Bobbie Gentry, and even a bit of Nancy Sinatra.
Not so much in the arrangements—Carly Ritter (the album) is largely built upon acoustic guitars and an understated drum/bass rhythm section — but the buoyant atmosphere and songs (all but one written or co-written by Ritter) are concise, cheery, and a joy to listen to. The opening track “It Don’t Come Easy” (not the Ringo song) is as infectious as it is delightful, with a hook and chorus that are nearly impossible to ignore.
“Princess of the Prairie” is a powerful tale, and one which shows that Ritter can construct ambitious narrative when called upon to do so. Ritter has acknowledged Carole King as a major influence and much like King she always keeps the song at the forefront. Her debut is never cluttered or distracting, and the pacing of the songs (a lost art in these days of digital downloads) is impeccable.
I get the sense that Carly Ritter is only scratching the surface, and that this fine album is merely indicative of how far she can go. I for one look forward to the journey. ****
The Band
Live at the Academy of Music 1971
Capital Records
Whoa Nelly! This four CD/1 DVD mega set is culled from much of the same source materials as The Band’s celebrated Rock of Ages live album from the same period. It digs deeply into the Band’s year-end four-night stint at New York City’s Academy of Music unearthing previously unknown footage and tracks.
The original two disc album has been sequenced to more accurately reflect their set list while the actual recordings, remixed from the soundboard, are clear and bright. Unfortunately, such an exhaustive overview of four consecutive nights results in far too much duplication.
The first two discs contain only one previously unreleased song (as scorching “W.S. Walcott Medicine Show”) as well as the four song encore with Bob Dylan, but the remaining excavated moments — 17 tracks in all — will entice the most fervent of Band enthusiasts. More frustrating is the “live” DVD which doesn’t actually contain any live footage, but rather the fabled 1971 New Years Eve Show with cleaned up audio and a series of still photos and other memorabilia. Ouch!
Nevertheless this is one of our nation’s greatest bands caught at the absolute peak of their creativity, so in that regards it is hard to kvetch. The boxed set is pricey — around $100 at most retailers — but for those who love The Band beyond reason and have pockets deep enough to indulge themselves I say go for it. ***1/2
Muscle Shoals (DVD)
Magnolia Pictures
If Hitsville USA was synonymous with the fabled Motown recordings of Marvin Gaye, The Supremes, The Temptations, and so many more, than Muscle Shoals Sound Studios is no less celebrated for the particular brand of Southern Rock that emanated from its amplifiers.
Formed in 1969 when sessions greats Barry Beckett (keyboards), Roger Hawkins (drums), Jimmy Johnson (guitar) and David Hood (bass); collectively known as The Swampers left FAME Studios to pursue their own ideal of a musical collective, the Muscle Shoals Sound Rhythm Section — as they soon became known — was the first rhythm section to own its own studio and, eventually, its own publishing and production companies.
That distinctive accompaniment and arrangement has been heard on a tremendous number of legendary recordings, ranging from Wilson Pickett, Aretha Franklin, and the Staple Singers to Paul Simon. Legend has it that Simon called the studio wanting to “get some of those Black musicians” to record with him. Little did Simon, and most of the music listening public, realize that Beckett, Hawkins, Johnson, and Hood were all white. Such is stuff of great story making and telling.
Director Greg “Freddy” Camalier tells that story with a nice mixture of awe and precision. It would be too easy to get caught up in the minutiae of Muscle Shoals — obsessing over trivial bits that only the most fanatical would care to know about — but Camalier instead wisely focuses on the music and its impact on the day.
At the center is Rick Hall, who rose up from abject poverty to become owner and principal architect of FAME, the studio which laid the groundwork for Muscle Shoals to follow. His is a fascinating tale of perseverance, an ear for talent, and impeccable timing. In a trim 112 minutes, not one second of which seems superfluous, the door is open to one of Rock and Roll’s sacred shrines. *****
