Spinning Discs November 2015

by James Cassara –

Another wide ranging number of discs to cover, and a brave attempt to keep my comments as brief as possible; keep supporting the music and be sure to buy local.

SqueezeSqueeze

Cradle to the Grave, Virgin EMI

When Glen Difford and Chris Tilbrook reunited in 2007 it was largely to keep Squeeze in the public eye as a touring act. Their 2010 return to the studio was a reworking of older songs, making Cradle to the Grave the first proper album from the band in nearly two decades.

Thankfully it’s a return to form of sorts, certainly not up to the standards of such classics as Cool for Cats or East Side Story but comfortably on par with such early 1990’s efforts as Play and the highly underrated Some Fantastic Place.

The band seems remarkably unconcerned with modernism and perfectly content to reinvestigate their inherent strengths: razor sharp melodies, engaging hooks, and lyrics void of pretense or unnecessary abstraction. It’s also a delightfully varied effort-while the title track’s Motown influence may come as no surprise, the disco dance floor of “Nirvana” is a nice twist on an old theme.

In under 45minutes (the ideal length for a vinyl release) Difford and Tillbrook-along with current band mates Simon Hansen, Stephen Large and John Bentley-give us a primer on constructing imminently joyful and ideally made pop music. ****

 

Joe Jackson

Fast Forward, Work Song Music EMI

Despite his many gifts Joe Jackson has never come across as a man satisfied with his own accomplishments. For the second half of his career he’s explored juke joint blues and big band jazz, written a symphony or two, created music for Broadway, and scored more than a dozen films. And while such ambition is admirable he’s always been best at writing smart and edgy pop songs, the sort that dominated FM radio and wove their way into your brain with disconcerting ease.

Recorded in New York, Amsterdam, New Orleans, and Berlin, Fast Forward finds Jackson striving to balance various ends, crafting some of the catchiest tunes of his career and stretching them in a manner reminiscent of masterpiece Night and Day.

Utilizing the talents of such guests as Bill Frisell and Brian Blades, and employing the New Orleans based sextet Galactic as his primary backing band, Jackson is at his most sophisticated and relaxed. A cover of Television’s “See No Evil” (with a blistering solo by Frisell) is a rare treat while the Cabaret miscue of “Good Bye Johnny” would have been better left on the cutting floor.

But it’s the originals that save the day, and though the Amy Winehouse condemnation of “Junkie Diva” seems overly cruel, the rest of Fast Forward is Jackson at his best. It’s a path back to his roots, and one I’ll welcome enough to excuse a few bits of bad judgment. It swings more than any Joe Jackson album in decades, and punches enough buttons to remind us how much we missed him pounding the piano and spitting out intelligent, rancorous and top-flight rock -n- roll. ****1/2

 

Donnie Fritts

Oh My Goodness, Single Lock Records

In a career dating back to the late 1950’s Donnie Fritts has been an integral part of the Southern music scene; a songwriter, producer, staff arranger for the fabled Muscle Shoals studios, and studio keyboardist, Fritts-who has played on hundreds of records and thousands of tracks — has for the better part of 40 years toured with Kris Kristofferson. Yet his own solo work has largely taken a back seat, with Oh My Goodness being only his fourth solo and his first in a decade.

Given the better known names who have profited from his presence-including Percy Sledge, Clarence Carter, Bonnie Bramlett, and far too many to include-it’s no surprise that his latest serves up a healthy plate of soulful blues, swampy rock, and a twang that you could cut with a knife.

Teamed with producer John Paul White (best known for his work with The Civil Wars) Oh My Goodness sounds both contemporary and timeless, with a new slate of originals, a remakes of Fritts’ classic “Choo Choo Train” and a few songs written by others.

Backed by The Alabama Shakes and assisted by such friends and fans as John Prine, Jason Isbell, and studio vets Reggie Young, David Hood, and Spooner Oldham (with a career such as his you get to pick from the best) Fritts’ Wurlitzer organ sits front and center while his voice-which sounds a bit like a slightly less grizzled Tom Waits-spins tales of misspent youth, getting clean and sober, and the sensual joys of “Memphis Women and Chicken.” It’s all done with an endearing charm and absolute lack of pretense, which makes this the ideal album for a lazy weekend afternoon, a cold brew, and nowhere in particular to go. ****

 

Duncan Sheik

Ledgerdemain, Kobalt Records

To the casual listener Duncan Sheik is best known as the one hit wonder behind the adult contemporary luster of “Barely Breathing,” yet his career has been much more than that. Since 2002 Sheik has largely concentrated on Broadway (he’s composed seven scores to date) while occasionally releasing a solo album and contributing to various tribute projects.

All of those efforts have showcased his intrinsic strengths: a ridiculous knack for melody, a voice of surprising range and delicacy, and the sort of coy wordplay that might remind you of Lloyd Cole or early Leonard Cohen.

Coming 20 years after his debut album Legerdemain is a nice tidying up of his career, a bridge between his lofty stage ambitions and the hazy affectations of his pop songs. His voice rarely rises above a whisper but it’s no less powerful, and if the themes that dominate herein, longing for acceptance, heartache and the search for meaning, are hardly new, Sheik instills them with a sense of maturity and grace all his own.

It’s an album built on textures rather than declaration, and even if it sometimes slips into the chilled sterility of new wave synthesis there’s enough here to satisfy longtime fans and perhaps arouse the curiosity of the uninitiated. ***

 

Bob Forrest

Survival Songs, Six Degrees Records

In an odd way it’s a shame the LA musician and ex-Thelonious Monster front man Bob Forrest is better known as a celebrity drug counselor and reality television star than for his music. Forrest’s struggle with heroin addiction — detailed via his work with Dr. Drew Pinsky and the subject of a full length documentary — is the thematic link that binds his newest, a reckoning with the demons that once controlled him and a testament to his remarkable endurance.

Produced by Ian Brennan, Survival Songs is a haunting and potent listen, deeply personal, but told in ways that are collective and inspiring. As clichéd as it sounds, his battles become ours.

Sparsely arranged, largely played by Forrest on acoustic guitar and ex-Circle Jerks guitarist Zander Schloss on rhythm (and a few other instrumental adornments) the songs narrate the darks days of Forrest’s life, a harrowing descent into a world none of us would want to be part of. “With teeth that can’t chew cereal” he tells us in the mournful “Cereal Song”, one of 13 songs of depravity that would make Charles Bukowski blush, “I’m lucky I’m alive / I should be dead.”

Forrest’s voice is as scarred as his life, but it’s a powerful vehicle for his words. The lone trumpet that announces “Looking to the West,” set against stand-up bass and pedal steel, is like a siren call to the wounded; come back, there is life after addiction.

The immediacy and ultimate redemption of Survival Songs brings to mind Neil Young’s “Tonight’s The Night,” but while that work of uneasy listening was told by someone who witnessed firsthand the destructive nature of heroin, Bob Forrest lived it.

Survival Songs is certainly not for the squeamish, and at times can be a difficult listen, but it’s a hell of a worthwhile ride. ****

 

The Zombies

Still Got That Hunger, The End Records

It’s been a four year break since The Zombies released Breathe Out, Breathe In which followed its predecessor by nearly 40 years, but Still Got That Hunger somehow seems neither rushed nor overly calculated. Original members Rod Argent and Colin Blunstone (whose voice is as magical as ever) are on board along with keyboardist Jim Rodford (from Argent’s post Zombies band) and guitarist Tom Toomey and drummer Steve Rodford.

Given that personnel it’s no surprise that Still Got the Hunger sounds as much like Argent as it does the Zombies, straddling (and not always successfully) a wire between bombastic arena rock and understated psychedelia. When it works (as in the keyboard driven “Chasing the Past”) it sounds seamless and inspired. However, as has often been the case with this band, the uneven songwriting lets them down.

“Moving On” is perilously close to the big stage rock of Argent, the sort of song that sounds much better on stage than blasting out of your speakers, while a unneeded remake of “I Want You Back Again” doesn’t come close to matching the 1965 version. Worse yet, is “New York’, an overly saccharine bit that exposes The Zombies worst tendencies. Much better are “Beyond the Borderline” and “Little One,” both of which are driven by Argent’s still remarkable keyboard skills.

Relative newcomers Steve Rodford and Tom Toomey hold up their end of the bargain, and while Still Got That Hunger comes nowhere near to approaching the band’s best moments it does serve to remind us that they’re still alive and kicking; having seen their performance last year at The Orange Peel, I for one am grateful. ***

 

Robert Forster

Songs to Play, Tapete Records

It’s been seven years since Go Betweens co-founder Forster has released a solo effort (this is his sixth) but this one is worth the wait. While 2008’s The Evangelist was clearly a healing process (as Forster grappled with the untimely death of his songwriting partner and band mate Grant McLennan) Songs to Play is a declaration that life must go on.

In many ways it’s a more fitting tribute to McLennan, setting aside some of the pensive melancholy that is typical of Forster’s songs while embracing much of the lighthearted friskiness that was McLennan’s stock and trade. The irreverence of the Brazilian tinged “Love is Where It Is” the good natured self-deprecation of “I Love Myself and I Always Have” showcase a side of Forster rarely exposed.

Even his best work has often taken itself too serious which makes the bouncy, swiftly toned nature of these songs all the more surprising. Even when he veers towards introspection, as he does in “The Poet Walks,” he smartly tosses in a bit of mariachi trumpet to keep us alert.

Forster’s low key vocal style is an acquired taste and the songs here are among the best he’s ever penned, at times approaching the lofty heights he set with The Go Betweens. It’s hard to imagine his ever again capturing that sort of lightning in a bottle but there’s no denying that Songs to Play marks a return to form from one of Australia’s most enduring and talented exports. ****