(Artwork care of Karen Ramsay (www.karenramsay.com), profile photo care of brianlackeyphotography.com)

Thursday, May 23, 2013

Recording review: Steve Earle & the Dukes (& Duchesses), The Low Highway (2013)

Progressive icon brings humanity to his social themes

Steve Earle makes it look easy on The Low Highway as he transforms from modern-day Woody Guthrie to gritty, soulful rocker, with side-steps into bluegrass and new country. Although his gravelly voice has a limited range, he’s a strong performer and his writing continues to be impeccable. Many of his songs present interesting, realistic characters, from a meth head loser in “Calico County” to the poignant father in “Remember Me”. More than just character sketches, their stories touch on larger themes. Given his progressive politics, Earle relates a number of these tales to the economy and social issues but he shows a defter hand for crafting the songs on this offering than previous albums. In particular, his backing band is chameleon-like, adapting to the shifting genres that Earle selects for the tunes. Beautiful folk arrangements are packed with subtle detail but the group is also up for rough and tumble rock ‘n’ roll, bluegrass twang, or retro Gypsy jazz.

The Low Highway begins by showing off Earle’s troubadour side on the title cut. His voice wheezes, backed by a simple acoustic guitar before the bass steps in behind him. Light touches of fiddle and steel guitar sidle into the background to join the march. An ode to the 99 percenters, the tune revisits Guthrie’s “This Land Is Your Land”:
I saw empty houses on dead end streets
People lining up for something to eat
And the ghost of America was watching me
Through the broken windows of the factories 
The country instrumentation and folky feel are simple but not simplistic. The fiddle and steel guitar fill in the spaces between the verses but refrain from taking full-on leads. This maintains a somber tone that fits the dark State of the Union lyrics.

The next two tracks drop in on some characters along Earle’s Low Highway. The rocking “Calico County” features a solid riff and guitar tone borrowed from the James Gang. The meth-cooking lead character is trapped in his hometown:
Out of here someday
Ain’t that what I used to say?
Army wouldn’t take me
So, I guess I’m gonna have to stay 
His backstory lays out all the cards stacked against him, but the relentless vamp tells us that, like it or not, life just goes on. The protagonist in “Burnin’ It Down” is even more resigned, but he’s found a target to vent on. Sitting in his pickup truck, he’s working up the energy to burn down the local Walmart: “It doesn’t matter much how long I wait/ The door’s always open and it’s never too late.” Earle uses the lazy country arrangement and weary, slurring vocal to convey the scene of a man smoking his last cigarette. Neither of these characters is looking for sympathy but the songs hint at the stories behind what we hear about in the news.

The Low Highway isn’t all dark despair. Despite its mournful beginning, “Warren Hellman’s Banjo” is a celebration of the billionaire banker/bluegrass impresario who started the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival in San Francisco. Full of references to classic folk and bluegrass songs, it’s a fitting tip of the hat as it alludes to the long musical chain running through the American songbook. Its traditional feel fits nicely with tunes like the bluesy cut-time of “Love’s Gonna Blow My Way,” which harks back to a 1930s sound. Like the songs in O Brother, Where Art Thou?, the lyrics acknowledge life’s difficulties but they show a resilient backbone of optimism. The jazzy violin accompaniment and solo seem inspired by Stéphane Grappelli. This is one of the three tracks on the album that Earle wrote for the HBO series “Treme”, along with the Cajun boogie duet “That All You Got?” and the moody “After Mardi Gras”.

Individual tracks on the album offer immersive moments that show off the range and depth of Earle’s songwriting. Although The Low Highway is not a concept album per se, there is a narrative arc that ties these songs into a richer fabric. The dystopian snapshot of America in the title song provides the context for the dead end life in “Calico County”. And where that character sees no choices, he’s followed by a man determined to at least strike a blow, if only against a faceless corporation. From there, it’s a small step up to the defiance in “That All You Got?”, where the characters are beaten down but unbowed. Through denial, optimism, and a reminder of the alternatives, these songs eventually find strength in the universal story of tradition and a forward-looking present, even if “21st Century Blues” casts some doubt on the future. But Earle recognizes that the objective idea of a historical connection isn’t satisfying as a final philosophical answer. Instead, he ends with the elegiac tune “Remember Me”. Written from an aging father to his young child, it humanizes that generational chain. Regardless of whether we’re society’s outcasts or not, whether our problems are public or hidden, each of us loves and all we can really ask for is to be remembered, hopefully fondly

(This review originally appeared on Spectrum Culture)

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Recording review, The Indelicates, Diseases of England (2013)

Provocative attitude and dystopian snark

Julia and Simon Indelicate follow a capricious muse, one less concerned with musical consistency than with attitude. Their projects may not sound alike beyond a love for the theatrical, but each one trolls for audience response and hopes for a certain degree of outrage. 2011's David Koresh Superstar introduced me to The Indelicates, impressing me with their surprisingly nuanced perspective and strong narrative voice. It was a provocative work, which seems to be the band's forte. Diseases of England has a similar musical theatre vibe, but it differs in a couple of key ways. DKS tells an American story and the music reflects that nationalistic sound. The new album fittingly jumps the pond back to the band's home turf and samples a wide swath of British music, ranging from Morrissey to Mumford and Sons. And rather than taking DKS's soundtrack approach, Diseases of England drops the constraint of a story, serving more as a melodramatic concept album. The Indelicates dish up a jaundiced view of modern England, highlighting cynicism, vulgarity, and disconnection as the titular diseases. Fortunately, it's no whining, petulant screed; they dodge that sin with their clever, satirical lyrics and solid musical execution.

The album opens with a great electro-rock track, "Bitterness is the Appropriate Response". Like a modern dance remix of Bauhaus, Gothic synth-pop vocals float over a beat-heavy rock mix. The band excessively packs the track with ear-catching flair: DJ-style transformer chops, grungy guitar, and shimmery keyboard layers. This sonic rejection of DKS's aesthetic makes it clear that they aren't concerned about consistency between the two albums. With that point out of the way, they really hit their stride on the second track, "Pubes", a cynical run-down of temptation and vice:
The places you'll go, the things you'll get
For a couple of pubes on the internet
The message is nothing new, everybody knows sex sells, but the tune catchy as hell. Updated power pop seasoned with a taste of David Bowie, the music holds you captive to the crass lyrics. The breakdown bridge serves up a wicked descending bass and dial-up modem chirps. I have to wonder, though, whether people even recognize that sound any more.

A couple of songs later, the Indelicates have dropped their harder musical edge to channel an emotional Morrissey vibe on "Le Godemiché Royal". The piano and bassoon initially cast the piece as a reverie, albeit one of obsessive love:
How can they hate you when you're beautiful?
And make a sewer from your scent?
How sour, how loveless these people are
How cruel, disfigured, and unspent
The track develops a lush layered sound, but the love curdles as the obsession darkens and takes on a disturbed edge. Think of this as the flip side of "Pubes". Both songs deal with allure's shadow, although the lyrics here are more circumspect (despite the title, which translates to "The Royal Dildo"). If "Pubes" warns the audience that they're being played, this piece's voyeuristic stalker perspective and his slipping control sketch out how sexual power games can go wrong.

The band continues their catalog of societal disease with a drag blues take on class warfare ("Class") and a moody gypsy blues story of ill use, packed with jaded cliches and bitter irony ("All You Need Is Love"). Their dystopian view finds its nadir with "Everything Is Just Disgusting". It starts out with a blues organ playing a saturated descending riff. The stark, echoed vocals remind me of a host of Brit-wave bands. They sound detached, loaded with ennui and a touch of contempt. As the song expands, the singing picks up intensity until the raging disdain comes to dominate. As Simon Indelicate spits out his loathing, the accompanying sweetness of the strings is like a fake smile that never reaches the eyes.

The last two tracks, "Not Alone" and "Dovahkiin", close out the album with the same kind of unsubtle earnestness that Mumford and Sons are prone to. Showing better judgement, the Indelicates show some moderation and the tunes form a nice wrap-up. "Dovahkiin" is the stronger of the two, painting its portrait of Britain as a pathetic loser in the unkindest terms. The ringing guitar solo transforms the mood into a redemptive ending that sounds beautiful, but I'm not so sure their subject deserves that closure.

Ultimately, Diseases of England is a simpler artistic statement than David Koresh Superstar, taking fewer chances. Koresh may be a bit obscure for the Indelicate's British audience, but their send-up was fairly transgressive for most Americans. Railing against modern culture, even with vulgarity and wit, is inherently less challenging. Still, it's an enjoyable romp across a wide variety of styles, with plenty of memorable songs.

Sunday, May 19, 2013

Front Range recommended shows, 5/20


If it doesn't rain, it pours. Everything interesting this week is on Tuesday. Go figure.

Monday, 20 May (Fox Theatre, Boulder CO)
Tuesday, 21 May (Fox Theatre, Boulder CO)
Opeth

Opeth's more recent work may favor progressive rock exploration over straight-on metal, but they are by no means soft. 2011's Heritage (review) showcased the change with a fairly engaging album that took some real chances. Fans can decide for themselves whether this was positive, but their two night residency at the Fox shows the popular demand for the band.

Tuesday, 21 May (Moe's Original Bar B Que, Englewood CO)
Igor and Red Elvises

The Red Elvises introduced their mash-up of retro rock and Russian culture back in the '90s. Their more recent billing as Igor and Red Elvises recognizes founder Igor Yuzov, but maintains their fun, cross-cultural exchange. Moe's is a nice intimate venue to enjoy their show..

Tuesday, 21 May (Boulder Theater, Boulder CO)
Yo La Tengo

Cult favorites Yo La Tengo have been hanging around the edges forever. Their new album, Fade, leans toward a softer sound, with the slight exception of the noisy "Paddle Forward". Still, with a deep back catalog, their shows can be hard to predict, depending on what aspect of their music they want to emphasize that night. The band is also known for their interesting selection of cover tunes. Come on out and be surprised!

Friday, May 17, 2013

Recording review - Arbouretum, Coming Out of the Fog (2013)

Echoes of 1972 super-groups that never existed

Consider the prototypical hipster band. They're a clever duo, mining old-school sounds. They blend in a little electro-vibe synth here and there and then proudly apply a low-fi matte finish. Arbouretum is not that band. Those other cats would shrivel up against the onslaught of warm tube distortion on Coming Out of the Fog. It's not "retro"; it's a freaking secret radio station broadcasting from an alternate 1972. One where Neil Young joined Bad Company and they jammed with Richard Thompson and the Velvet Underground. Arbouretum doesn't just sound like a band from that era; they capture the exact production quality of those classic recordings. With the dynamic compression of old microphones and analog tape, the instruments all blend together into a warm, live-room mix. As nice as the MP3s sounded, I wish I had a copy on 180 gram vinyl to really soak in the period sound.

In 2011, their album The Gathering (review) instantly became one of my top recordings for the year. Coming Out of the Fog doesn't meander quite as widely as that record, but it's a strong followup. They still understand the magic of how to use a down-tempo, roaring distortion to build intensity. On "Renouncer", they set up a simple pattern of Super-Fuzzed guitar and bass that roils and swirls around the solid drum work. Dave Heumann's vocal is husky with a delicate edge, somewhere between Paul Rodgers and Warren Zevon. The steady pace fits the oblique lyrics that reference the lessons of St. Simeon Stylites and other religious figures. Even the lead is unhurried. The band takes a similar approach on "All At Once, The Turning Weather", dragging the tempo and letting the rumble of guitar and bass fill the track. This time drummer Brian Carey gets a little room to show off some sweet cymbal work, using his ride to periodically frost the edges.

While they're effective at the drag-beat crunch, Arbouretum has no problem opening up the throttle. The album peaks with "World Split Open", whose mid-tempo drive is centered around a resonant acid-rock guitar riff. The repetition becomes a saturated raga meditation worthy of the Velvet Underground, with hints of "All Tomorrow's Parties". The comparison is apt as Corey Allender's bass meshes with Carey's drums to evoke John Cale and Mo Tucker. Glimpses of feedback are scattered throughout the cushioning cocoon of fuzz. Heumann's heady lyrics have a grand feel:
To cast aside a world of lies
Where distress and trouble grows
To dispel the legends that surround
An unfolding compass rose
The solo is untethered, as if Heumann is manipulating a chaotic fountain of noise. The buffeting distortion is cathartic, but the stripped down, tribal beginning to the following instrumental track, "Easter Island", comes as relief. While it develops into its own noisy celebration, it's a calming drop-off to take us to the title track.

"Coming Out of the Fog" shows another side of the band. It's very Beatlesque, with a mix of Abbey Road's "Sun King" and the verse from Let It Be's "Don't Let Me Down". Heumann's restrained, Americana vocal sounds weary and philosophical, backed with Mathew Pierce's nuanced piano and Dave Hadley's singing steel guitar. It's a sweet decompression from the dark and exciting drama on the rest of the album. Coming Out of the Fog may be less epic than their last album, but Arbouretum have crafted a well-paced record that holds together and showcases the band's rich sound. I'd like to think that there's a 1972 out there somewhere, sending out these kind of echoes across dimensions.