CD review - Paley and Francis, Paley and Francis (2011)

The magic of raw immediacy

In-the-moment or artful construction? Musical trends bounce between the two, like garage rock vs. the Beatles. Punk follows art rock excesses only to coalesce into new wave structure. Each side of the coin has its strengths and flaws, which keeps the pendulum swinging. Paley & Francis emphatically favors raw immediacy over polished production.

Reid Paley and Black Francis (the Pixies) ripped through this project in a whirlwind, writing the music together over three afternoons, splitting the tunes to write lyrics separately, and then recording the ten songs in two days. This wasn't a cold collaboration, the two have worked together before and had a feel for what would click. Each of these tracks is a first take, with stripped down arrangements: bass, guitar, piano, and light percussion. Paley & Francis exhibits the power of simplicity. The songs are well written and true; the playing is tight with little ornamentation.

Paley and Francis each sing lead on their own lyrics, alternating tracks on the album. This creates a see-saw effect, moving from Francis' smoother voice to Paley's ragged soul. The first track, Curse, kicks off with a driving bassline like the Doors, but quickly reveals itself as a raw, garage rocker. There's a lot of the Pixies here, but the chorus owes a lot to Roky Erickson. Black Francis pulls out Lou Reed attitude and Iggy Pop snarl, while Reid Paley's backing adds the perfect hoarseness to sell the underlying anger of the song.

Paley's lead vocals have a warm and friendly sound somewhere between Tom Waits and Country Dick Montana (Beat Farmers). On Ugly Life, Paley's best song on the album, he favors Waits as he doesn't so much sing as declaim the lyrics. Francis' voice adds the sharp point to the tagline of the chorus. Ugly Life clicks because of the contrast between the wistful, nostalgic music and the lyrics, which offer up a resigned celebration of the downside. Tired but defiant, this could have been a Velvet Underground song, but Paley's delivery removes the irony Lou Reed would have given it.

The dark side of raw music is that it can be unlistenable - there's a lot of dreadful punk and sloppy blues out there. Sometimes a lack of technical ability is lauded as authenticity. Paley & Francis never allows for that possibility. Instead, they focus on the magic. This project was quickly, not hastily, assembled by a group of musicians at the top of their game.

CD review - Emil & Friends, Lo & Behold (2011)

Dance pop sound matures to branch out into indie rock/pop

Emil & Friends have come a long way since last year's Downed Economy EP (review here). Emil Hewitt still shows his love for disco and dance pop on Lo & Behold, but he's expanded his diverse set of influences and improved his production. The new album is more polished to match Hewitt's matured sound. He's abandoned the retro, lo-fi '70s soul, but still manages to evoke the disco pop era on some of the tracks.

Where Downed Economy emphasized a stark electro disco vibe on its first track, Lo & Behold lays down a piano centered pop vibe. Flashback has a sweet Supertramp influence, especially on the keyboard intro, but it also evokes some of My Morning Jacket's flavor of retro pop. The lyrics pick up the story somewhere in the middle with little context, which creates a compelling itch:

On the flat screen television, when the cops come and break down the door
Reruns so analog, cross legged on the living room floor
As they step towards you with the handcuffs, to take you away
You flash back to the baby sitter turning it off, because it's rotting your brain

The song seems designed to keep you off balance. The laid back groove offers comfort even as the story triggers a cascade of questions. The music deconstructs as a heavy bass and beat grow more prominent creating their own flashback effect. A gratuitous, over-the-top guitar solo sets up a loose, floating outro. There's a flow, but it makes no sense. You're left with the sense that another time through might make it clearer. Still, with every listen, I smile and bop along. "Catchy" barely does it justice.

Emil & Friends call back to their earlier sound on tracks like C.U.P.I.D. and Rain Check. The relentless pop bounce of Rain Check sounds like an updated version of Prince's funk pop without the self-indulgence. The retro horn punches and modern electronic bass groove combine in a super-mutant pop. Where Downed Economy would have infused this song with a hazy, old time vibe, the sound here is clean and hip.

C.U.P.I.D. offers a slick electro disco feel, with grinding bass and processed vocals. Loaded with hooks, Emil slips in some great lines that the electro-pop synths might distract you from:

Warm and wet like a car wash cruisin'
Stronger than the stuff since you've be usin'
Sittin' on a car, just flappin' his wings
This little angel named C.U.P.I.D.

Lo & Behold is a great step forward for Emil & Friends. A better budget might account for the nicer production, but the band's writing and musical versatility have improved over the last year. Earlier, I warned off disco haters and and soul pop cynics. Now, even those listeners might find something to like.

For a taste, check out the electro disco of Crystal Ball (My Old Kentucky Blog) or the indie pop of Endless Waves (teaser on Vimeo).

CD review - The Bluffkins, Songs You've Never Heard Of (2011)

Young band delivers interesting indie rock

Songs You've Never Heard Of is a new EP by the Bluffkins, out of Palm Harbor, FL. They're a young band and that youth is apparent from the scattershot style of the EP's seven songs. But despite a couple of minor missteps, they have a great indie rock sound that's worth checking out.

The opening song, Eastbound and Down, starts slow, using a recording session artifact as an intro. But once the song gets underway, the classic rock vibe quickly takes hold. The layered guitar parts remind me of the Henry Clay People. Sam Francis' confessional vocals convey a strength beneath the basic melancholy of the song. The lyrics feature some nice turns of phrase:

Eastbound and down, going nowhere, I'm a teacher of class clowns
She's back in town, living happily, with no one else around
East bound and down, well I can't be lost if I was never found
First to fail, best of worst, I'm a king without a crown

"First to fail, best of worst," I wish had had written that.

The next track, Letters From Space, continues the retro feel, this time with a glam sound like Mott the Hoople's Ian Hunter (one of Henry Clay People's bigger influences). This has a similar guitar structure as Eastbound, creating a thick, layered sound. Like many of the following songs, the lead vocals are doubled to fatten the mix. The drop out outro is beautiful with twinned guitar lines reaching out across an open musical space.

Cloud 9 changes up the sound to pick up some of the Guess Who's funky blues groove (No Sugar Tonight). The bass playing on this song, especially during the opening section, is perfect. There's a sweet moment at 1:56, where the verse starts with just the vocal and the bass. That's a punch they could have used more often.

From here, Songs You've Never Heard Of delivers a solid cover of John Mayer's Good Love Is On The Way, a chank beat flavored rocker, and a couple of good indie rock tracks. Of these, the closer, Jingo, is most interesting. A spoken intro (Winston Churchill) leads to a psychedelic rock drive.

Like any demo, Songs You've Never Heard Of shows off the Bluffkins' range. The writing and recording has matured compared to the music on their Reverbnation page, although Place I've Never Been is very catchy and Runaway (Kanye West) is an decent cover. Drop by iTunes and give the EP a listen; then buy a copy to encourage a young band bound for good things.

Thanks to Joseph G for turning me on to the Bluffkins.

CD review - Steven Wilson, Grace For Drowning (2011)

Few wasted moments and many wild rides on this progressive gem

Listening to Steven Wilson's production on Opeth's recent Heritage (review here), it is clear that his recent work remixing King Crimson's catalog has had an impact on his aesthetics. On Grace For Drowning, that effect is more pronounced. Wilson assertively turns away from Porcupine Tree's recent sound to revisit the band's early progressive and art rock roots.

With two discs, I'd say that Grace For Drowning sprawls across its 83 minute run-time -- except there's not much fat to trim. The songs are solid and form a coherent whole.

The music on the title cut is a surprise opening for disc 1. Centered on vocal harmony, the backing is a simple set of chords that remind me of a piano exercise. Harmonize vocals are a tool that Wilson uses liberally on Grace, both to create a human warmth and to add a hint of schizophrenia. The jazzy, compositional sound on Grace For Drowning immediately pushes away expectations of Porcupine Tree's normal prog flavor.

Sectarian, the following track, starts out with a guitar conversation, A plaintive acoustic rhythm and a prickly electric melody build a threatening vibe that blows up into a Discipline style darkness. When the vocals and horns kick in, it's revelatory. More twists and turns lie ahead though. While Sectarian isn't quite my favorite track, I love Wilson's artistry with dynamics. He lets the song breathe: controlled inhale and explosive exhale. The mood swings between the different sections show off Wilson's compositional chops.

The first disc closes out with Remainder the Black Dog. The mellow, reflective start sets up an angular piano motif, which builds tension as the other instruments come in. There's some beautiful mellotron work here that riffs against the motif in a freer jam. The theme takes on a Robert Fripp feel as it transitions to the guitar and bass. The pressure increases until the song erupts into wild flailing. Screaming notes whine over the speedy driver, but the track settles back into the jam. It's a wonderful, progressive roller coaster.

Disc two shows more of the King Crimson/early Porcupine Tree influence. Track One starts out with a forlorn opening vocal and a taste of I Talk To The Wind, but the song transitions through a brief manic section before turning darker. Like the amorphous flow of dream-time events, the song drifts in several directions. The darkness fades into a surprising guitar solo that evokes some of Jerry Garcia's moodier ramblings.

This sets up the epic length of Raiders II. The ponderous opening offers little hint of trip to come. Despite elements of Court of the Crimson King and 21st Century Schizoid Man, it's pure Steven Wilson. The dynamic shifts can be razor sharp, but still natural. When it drops from headlong rush to a meandering melody against a sparse backing, it's unpredictable but satisfying. Wilson's balance between openness and contraction, between direction and loose drifting, makes Raiders II the showpiece of Grace.

Aside from the retro prog foundation of the album, Grace For Drowning has more accessible sounds than Porcupine Tree's material, like the early Genesis style of Deform To Form a Star or the string and piano backed Pastcard. Hopefully, this will open Wilson up to some wider public appreciation. In turn, this could introduce progressive music to a greater audience.