Recording review - And the Giraffe, Creature Collector (2012)

Delicately balanced dreamy folk

Last year, I reviewed And the Giraffe's EP, Something For Someone. I enjoyed their mellow exploration of dreamy folk space; each song created a different mood, finding its own niche. Their latest short-form release, Creature Collector, builds on that nuanced sound with richer production and a stronger contribution from the rhythm section. A perfect example is "Of the Moment", which starts with simple reverbed guitar figure. Robert Edmondson's melodic bass line comes in and adds focus to the quiet reflection. Gossamer shreds of electronic washes are barely perceptible. The breathy lyrics are brief and poetic:

Here I am, trapped in the embers
Of the moment
And the why

Darkness descends with a sharp contrast between prickly bass notes of doom and a rapid, panicked drum beat. This dissipates as the song wakes, driven by an experimental percussion jam. It's a lot to fit into three minutes, but the band effortlessly flows through this evolution.

And the Giraffe continues to evoke Gomez, with vocals reaching for Ben Ottewell's velvet rasp. "Find My Name in the Sun" floats forward, with a weary acceptance:

Does a loving feud have to be something more?
Will the rug muffle our yells?
Will the chipped paint ever dry?
Will the room keep closing in?

The detached vocals suggest a surrender at the loss of a relationship, holding none of the sting these lyrics suggest. The music remains unencumbered and light, despite some ornamentation. A soft banjo, synth washes, and other subtle sounds add detail, but find a delicate balance. The folky feel transitions into a rootless, atmospheric electronic shimmer for the bridge. This heralds a growing complexity, where complacence becomes anticipation, signaling an end to the grieving. Conflicting details layer together, but never feel chaotic because harmony still dominates.

The six songs on Creature Collector all seem to capture some degree of pain in their lyrics, but the music redeems them from any self-absorbed whining. It's hard to be melodramatic when the tunes remain stubbornly low key and perceptive. So, it's less Melanie's "Beautiful Sadness" and more Wilco's "Less Than You Think". In fact, the closing track, "Enough is Enough" seems to channel Jeff Tweedy's halting rhythm in its beginning section. The simple piano is sparse, emphasizing the lines by dropping back rather than dynamic punches. After this intro, the rest of the band comes in, kicking off a "Walk on the Wild Side" groove. Except for a touch of noodling electric piano early in this section, it's a perfect transition. The song closes with a fuller sound; distorted guitar and a saturated mix bury the track in another noisy Wilco touch.

Drop by And the Giraffe's Bandcamp page where you can name your price to download Creature Collector.

CD review - Paleo, Fruit of the Spirit (2011)

Challenging art, but worth the effort

Fruit of the Spirit, the latest album by Paleo (AKA David Strackany), is anything but easy listening. The indie folk foundation is pleasant enough, but a twisting vein of experimental sound keeps it from getting too comfortable.

The album's flow seems unfocused, varying in energy and tone while offering little narrative. Finally, Paleo's voice is a rough, challenging instrument: raspy and cracking, it often seems too weak to support the depth of his lyrics. Some listeners may give Fruit of the Spirit a brief listen and pass it by.

None of that captures the intriguing essence of this album. Even though a couple of tracks are particularly challenging, like Poet and Poet II, most of the songs are quite interesting. Paleo's sonic palette is full of subtle background sounds and unusual instrumental choices, like steel drums. He varies his pace from dirge to frentic percussion drive, but a sense of raw emotion and weariness pervades the tracks. That common theme is directly tied to Paleo's voice. His Dylanesque phrasing and breaking notes invite comparisons to the Violent Femmes. Like Gordon Gano, Paleo skirts the edge of breakdown as he sings.

Despite all of the contrary indicators mentioned above, I was hooked on the first track, Lighthouse. The steel drums set up an island folk bounce while the words paint a picture of Paleo's siren:

My friend, she turns to the shadowland of the darkest ocean floor
Every washed up fool in the dating pool
Finds himself washed up on her shore
...
Shine your light for me. Katie come around

The song feints an ending, setting up a jazzy Dan Hicks style bridge before returning back to the groove. Cool percussion and simple acoustic instruments create a living room house concert sound. Despite the metaphorical lyrics, the song feels honest.

A couple of tracks in, Pharoah jumps from an experimental start of random musical elements and crowd sounds into a simple, bare tune. Driven by a deliberate guitar and accompanied by light piano lines, the song's allegorical lyrics set up an aching plea:

Oh will I struggle? Oh will I hang from a good looking tie, for the rest of my life?

It's a stark contrast to Lighthouse, but it shares an emotional honesty.

Other songs draw a variety of comparisons: a Velvet Underground/Lou Reed writing style on Buddy Buddy, the Femmes' sound of Holly Would or Honey Be Reckless, or 13th Floor Elevators garage rock of In the Movies. Sure there are touchstone moments, but they don't indicate influences. They just represent a language to describe a unique sounding album

Mixed bag or not, Fruit of the Spirit is worth the effort, especially for jaded ears.

CD review - The Shivers, More (2011)

The Shivers offer up a fusion of indie folk and retro R&B, distilled though a singer/songwriter performance feel. Til now, the Shivers has been a band name that Keith Zarriello records under, but now he's partnered with keyboard player Jo Schornikow as a full fledged member. I haven't really heard much of Zarriello's earlier work, but More (releasing this week) is a strong collaboration of these two artists. Other musicians add their backing, but Zarriello's voice and Schornikow's wonderful organ work define the sound.

Keith Zarriello's voice is intriguing -- strongly accented and husky, it resonates perfectly with his lyrics like Leonard Cohen or Bruce Springsteen. And Zarriello's lyrics casually toss out some striking images: "She gave to you a candy, and at the time it was so sweet, but alone in your apartment, now you feel your rotting teeth." Schornikow's piano accompaniment gilds the lines with a kind of wry shake of the head.

More is full of strong songs, but the flow between them occasionally misses the mark. Kisses, my favorite track, is a righteous early '60s evocation of soulful blues. The rich organ sets the era and the bluesy rasp of Zarriello's voice sells it. Opening with the line, "Give me your kisses, baby. I am just a rock and roll kid", the sparse arrangement will set your head to swaying and foot to tapping. "Give me your kisses, baby. I am an altar to your grave." This is perfect simplicity and Schornikow's treacly organ permeates the song like thick incense.

When this lagging blues beat fades into the driving pop sound of Used To Be, it's like a shock of cold water. With Neil Diamond colored vocals against a synth pop arrangement, it's not a bad song, but the contrast is too distracting. Similarly, the slow Leonard Cohen burn of Weapons For Quiet Wars (think Hallelujah) slides into the pop bounce of I Want You Back, weakening both songs.

Ignoring these flow problems, the songs are catchy and More stands up well to repeated listening. And it's easy enough to reorder the songs to solve the problem.

The album wraps up on another gem. The title track, More, stretches from a Jeff Buckley style emotional vocal to add some powerful punches. The song builds peak dynamics to balance the sparse and moody verses. Sit in a darkened room, splash a little bourbon over some crushed ice and get the shivers.

CD review - Kaiser Cartel, Secret Transit (2010)

Courtney Kaiser and Benjamin Cartel have created a bubble of retro magic for their songs to thrive in. On Secret Transit, Kaiser Cartel arranged their guitar and drums into deceptively simple gems. This studio album is more layered than they had in their live performance, but it retains the focus of beautiful harmonies and raw, yet beautiful instrumental arrangements.

Kaiser Cartel's vocal sound refers back to groups like the Mamas and the Papas, but the overall sound is much closer to The Trinity Session era Cowboy Junkies. It comes down to that ethereal, expressive female voice, drifting through a thick, misty reverberation, accompanied by down tempo instrumental simplicity. Kaiser has a bit of Margo Timmons' soothing sound and Karen Carpenter's raw emotion. Cartel's harmonies are perfectly supportive. Despite being relatively clean and smooth, the music is primitive: it's truthful, with no grandstanding. That's how they evoke that '60s aesthetic, as well as a bit of the Velvet Underground and the Pretenders.

That's easiest to hear on Carroll Street Station or Worn Out Nervous Condition (John Mellancamp). Both songs are basically plain, but filled with nice touches of backup vocal parts and tiny breaks. Taking it even further, Wherever You Go like the Cowboy Junkies' cover of the the Velvet Underground's Sweet Jane.

One of my favorite songs is the wistful Stella. It feels like a late summer night, sitting up alone. It's touching and sweetly reassuring at the same time. Even though there's no steel work, I can't help but think of Sleep Walk. The arrangement gets fuller by the end. Again, the vocals sound like the Mamas and the Papas, but the music is purer.

Secret Transit has some snappier tunes, too. Ready To Go takes their familiar formula and kicks up the tempo. At this tempo, you can hear a power pop influence. Track by track, though, the whole album is a warm, enveloping cocoon. Warm up a hot buttered rum and settle in.