I’m back again with a varied mix of bands and artists I’d not been previously exposed to, finding myself, once again, amazed by the quality of music that is out there. Download if you wish but I still prefer good old fashioned physical product, readily available at any of our area’s excellent independent record stores.
Vincent Cross
a Town Called Normal
Solidly written, impeccably played and gifted with the sort of nuance one doesn’t often hear in do it yourself recordings, Vincent Cross’s a Town Called Normal is one of the most pleasant surprises to have recently come across my desk. Born in Ireland and based in NYC, Cross has an intentionally modest vocal delivery that still carries a gut bucket of emotion.
The sparse instrumentation (leaning towards, but not quite bluegrass and folk) works well alongside Cross’s own inherent knack for melody and structure. While the production is clean and bright it’s the songs that carry the day, be it the buoyant “Cuckoo” (in which the singers Celtic roots come shining forth), or the stunningly beautiful “Trouble Being There.”
The depth of Cross’s songwriting continues to amaze me, even after listening multiple times. He capably shifts tempo and mood in ways that are both surprising and wholly logical. Overall, a Town Called Normal achieves an ideal balance between loss and redemption, and does so in ways that will make you wonder how and why Vincent Cross has managed to keep such a low profile. The town may be normal but this fine gem, well worth a much broader audience, is anything but. ****
The Deep Dark Woods
Jubilee
Sugar Hill Records
While their press releases tout the Deep Dark Woods love of, and influence by, the music of Neil Young, it’s a very specific era of his work by which they seem the most enamored, mainly the Buffalo Springfield years.
As a huge Springfield fan this is more than okay by me, giving Jubilee an immediate advantage in grabbing my attention. But it’s the songs that have kept me coming back to the record, revealing not only the strength of the material but other more broad influences — as well as their own unique imprint — that embellish the album.
There’s a ragged melancholy, mixed in with a wicked sense of humor, that reminds me of the Band’s earliest albums (as well as The Basement Tapes), best found in the darkly comical “Bourbon Street” and the controlled abandon of “Picture on My Wall.”
It’s a wonderful mix of elements and influences — skillfully distilled through the band’s own sensibilities — resulting in an album, that with listening multiple times, sounds better and better. It’s my first journey through these Deep Dark Woods but it certainly won’t be my last. ****
Brian Wright
Rattle Their Chains
Sugar Hill Records
From the start, Brian Wright has faced the challenge of disproportionately high expectations, a bar set so high as to demand a home run every time he stepped to the plate. Even before he began recording, he’d garnered a reputation as one of Texas’s new up and comers (he has since moved on to Nashville) and the sort of songwriter who demanded comparisons to Townes Van Zant, Joe Ely, and Robert Earl Keen.
When No Depression magazine declared his 2011 debut House on Fire to be “darn near perfect” they were not doing him any favors. So along comes Rattle Their Chains (his second release on the Sugar Hill label) and those expectations continue to grow.
Begun last summer in a Los Angeles studio, surrounded by an ace group of session musicians, Wright quickly recorded 18 meticulously arranged songs. But he still wasn’t happy with the results: “I didn’t like the songs once I heard them, so I scrapped all but three or four,” Wright explains in the accompanying promo pack. “It had hooks and melodies but it was empty. It didn’t feel or sound right at all.”
So for his second go at making a new album, Wright retreated to the Oregon coast, where he held up in a friend’s hotel and started from scratch, following the same ritual for a week: “breakfast fueled by coffee and eggs sunny-side up; long beach walks and listening to Bob Dylan’s Basement Tapes”.
Hunkered down with his Gibson J-45 the lyrics and melodies and a clear vision of the finished product began to surface: “I was picturing a band playing these songs – my friends – and I could hear what was going to happen: a band in a room, guys who really love each other and are really tight” he further explains.
The resultant effort is a deliberately lose delight, songs that worm their way into your subconscious and won’t let go. Even the more subdued numbers, such as the strangely affecting “Weird Winter” are staggering in their richly evocative imagery. Outside of Peter Case I don’t know anyone writing songs — personal and universal, disparate and familiar — this multi-leveled.
Besides Dylan and the Band there are traces of Texas style songwriting, 1960s classic rock, and even in the monstrously good “Hear What I Want” a bit of neo-psychedelic. Rattle Their Chains is a very different album from its predecessor House on Fire, but it is no less satisfying. It’s the sort of record that makes you want to dim the lights, crank up the speakers, and ignore the rest of the world.
It might have been created during a period of upheaval, and only came about after a couple of false starts, but it shows how much persistence and determination can pay off. Thanks for hanging in there Mr. Wright. And thanks for making this record. ****1/2
Moderat
II
Monkey Town Records
Combine two German electronica bands (Modeselektor and Apparat) and what you get is Moderat. But what you also get is a curiously unified effort that eschews the harshness often prevalent in electronica — especially the European variety — and actually incorporates bits of R&B (“The Mark”), melancholic pop (“Damage Done”) and stretched out neo-prog (“Bad Kingdom”).
The band’s mix of dance club music and heavy pulse may not be for everyone but I found it surprisingly palatable. The instrumental numbers often meander into galactic jam band noise but overall Moderat’s sophomore effort goes down surprisingly well. ***
Kevin Presbrey
Dust unto Dust
There’s something refreshing about a five song EP that states its case for the artist, collects a few of their stronger songs, and gets out of the way. Such is with Dust unto Dust, a more than respectable introduction to the music of Kevin Presbrey. Within its five songs are solidly told tales of promises not kept, dreams not realized, and love left unfulfilled.
Presbrey, the former front man for Painkiller Hotel, has an easy going style (he admits an intense fondness for the music of Jim Croce and early Eagles) that might be a bit too mainstream for some but that shouldn’t diminish the quality of the songs.
Best of the batch is “Good Man”, dedicated to his father, but both “Tell Me What You Want” and “Something in the Water” would sound right at home on most 1970s FM stations. Producer Ryan Hadlock, best known for his work with The Lumineers, is certainly simpatico to Presbey’s ideas, making Dust unto Dust a more than adequate sampler of a rising artist. ***
Who is Harry Nilsson and
Why is Everybody Talking About Him?
(DVD)
While he never reached the level of international stardom his unparallel talents warranted, Harry Nilsson remains a deservedly beloved figure in American pop music.
Arriving at a time when the British Invasion ruled the radio airwaves — and achieving widespread acclaim when John, George, and Paul, but not Ringo, all famously named him the songwriter they were most listening to — his music defied easy categorization and marketing. It hearkened back to an earlier era, utilized melodic structures far advanced of what the record companies wanted, and worked on multiple levels that most listeners were, frankly, unable to fully understand.
That, and his refusal to perform live, along with his infamously stubborn personality, must have made him a handful. But he was also a favorite of many in the industry, becoming fast friends with Keith Moon, Ringo (despite that lack of endorsement!) and attracting unwanted notoriety via his famous “lost weekend” with John Lennon.
Nilsson was arguably the most respected singer, songwriter, and record maker of the ‘70s, winning a pair of Grammys for his covers of “Everybody’s Talkin’,” and “Without You.” This documentary features archival footage of the fiercely independent artist, and numerous new interviews with such contemporaries as Randy Newman, Jimmy Webb, Van Dyke Parks, and others.
The film does a brilliant job of reckoning his outrageous behavior with his formidable talent, and goes a long way towards explaining how Nilsson’s impoverished and single parent upbringing affected his adult life. Poignant observations by Nilsson’s widow Oona O’Keefe give us an even deeper look at how the murder of his friend Lennon charted the later years of his own, too short, life.
I’ve been a fan of Nilsson’s for many years and thought I knew nearly every important facet of his career. Who Is Harry Nilsson and Why is Everybody Talking About Him?, originally released in 2006 and recently expanded, has proven me wrong. *****