a coherent collection of random statements regarding God, words and tunes

And All Bob's Chillun' Said "Amen"....
 
     Some short takes on two new ones and an old one (but new for me) this week..... To New York to Austin and back again to New York....

 Willie Nile -- The Streets of New York. I've been trying to get a hold of something by this guy since hearing the hysterical Irish-pub title cut from his last album, Beautiful Wreck of the World. Still haven't got that one, by the way, but I've got this, and it's pretty good. Guy's been around the punk/folk scenes of NYC since... well, since we were.... Certainly he had to have had the "New Dylan" tag thrown on him at some point, because it still comes through loud and clear here. And he's clearer when he's louder. It's good poetic street music, just like Mama Springsteen used to make.

     Highlights: The stomping opener, "Welcome to My Head," the Uncle Tupelo-meets-Ian-Hunter-ish "Whole World With You," the cover of "Police on My Back" which doesn't make you forget The Clash version and isn't meant to (being a tribute to the late Joe Strummer and all). The slower songs are OK, but not quite my thing -- but if you like slower folk stuff sung in a voice somewhere between Steve Forbert and Mike Scott, give "Back Home" a shot. And "On Some Rainy Day" really is a pretty good power-folk ballad (think Uncle Tupelo again, and bear left at the fork between Wilco and Son Volt). 

     And then there's the song that's been getting some notice, "Cell Phones Ringing (in the Pockets of the Dead)." Just to clarify for anyone who's been reading the press clippings: It's inspired by the Madrid bombings -- it's not about them (with the possible exception of the mental image the title generates). That said, it's a pretty rowdy song replete with Highway 61 ramblings. Wouldn't be my favorite here, but pretty good.

     You know whether you want this or not. The next one, however, I'm kind of insisting on, if only on principle....

 Slaid Cleaves -- Unsung. I've been mighty partial to this guy since first hearing "One Good Year" back in 2000 -- heck, that song was my anthem there for awhile. To quote myself: Hank and Woody had a baby, and Bob and Bruce raised him. (Ignore the physiological impossibilities therein.) His last album, Wishbones, had moments -- especially the title song and the (literally) devastating "Below" (about a town plowed under to make way for a reservoir -- a major sentimental spot for an old north Jerseyan like myself) -- but by and large was kinda disappointing, especially as the production and arrangements were largely trying to give Slaid a pair of bad-ass honky-tonk cajones instead of letting him use the built-to-last tough-minded-and-conscious-Woody-folkie ones God already gave him.

     Anyway, GREAT concept here: Covering songs by other songwriter/friends who wouldn't get this kind of exposure otherwise. A very Slaid thing to do. And it provides the unexpected side benefit of lowered expectations. Which Slaid then more than lives up to by forcing us to focus on his secret weapon -- that emotional, world-weary voice. I've thought for quite some time that just as a smart career move, Slaid oughta consider going the Johnny Cash route -- you know, half originals, half covers -- so he can crank out quality albums on a more regular basis. Unsung more than supports my theory. The songs here aren't as strong, because... well, because they're not Slaid's.... but they're mostly more than good enough, and when they are, he carries them off admirably. The result is just a plain old enjoyable album, and maybe the feel alone'll help Slaid get off that writer's block he's been on for quite some time.

     Starting on the down side and working up: I just plain don't like "Fairest of Them All." The woman-of-the-world character doesn't generate any empathy for me, and it pains me to hear the otherwise gentlemanly Slaid deliver a line like "Rock-a-bye baby, rock-a-bye bitch." And the closer, "Song for June" (Carter, that is), steals liberally from Johnny's "I'm Gonna Sit on the Fence and Pick on My Old Guitar" and "Long Black Veil" without transforming them -- it's just not a very original song in any way, shape or form.

     In between but looking up: The two songs by Slaid's usual touring guitarist Michael O'Connor, the opener "Devil's Lullaby" and "Getaway Car," are both pretty good tunes that fit Slaid's style well. Karen Poston, who wrote the heartbreaking "Lydia" on 2000's Broke Down, contributes "Flowered Dresses" here, which isn't quite the song the former is but still shows off her considerable storytelling abilities quite nicely. And "Everette" is about the quirkiest song y'r ever going to hear on a Slaid album (the 2002 Holiday Sampler EP notwithstanding), and keeps growing on me -- 'cause after all, to quote the song's refrain, "That's what poets do."

     Moving into the really good stuff: "Another Kind of Blue" is a really lovely yet simple minor-keyed thing that makes you wish it was 11 p.m. every time you hear it. And there's one absolutely certifiable new Slaid classic here in Chris Montgomery's "Call It Sleep," which takes us even deeper into the night, and then manages to carry you through it to the other side. 'Cause that's what poets do too. 

     Want to support yr local songwriters? Support a whole load of them and buy this puppy. Then tell Slaid to get off the East Coast and come out to Colorado for a change -- I'm having withdrawal symptoms out here.

 Lou Reed -- Magic and Loss. I won't spend as much time on this one, but suffice to say this is another egregious early '90s oversight on my part. (Although admittedly, Ecstasy didn't exactly inspire me to go back and see what he did between that and New York.) And as it's a song cycle about death (as well as terminal illness -- in this case, cancer), it's speaking volumes to me right now when it's not screaming in my ear. It pulls no punches whatsoever in its detail, it's painful, and because of that it's a really big old shoulder to cry on (even if Lou decides to smack you some more while you do). I mean, just try this sample from "Dreaming," for example:

You sat in your chair with a tube in your arm
You were so skinny
You were still making jokes
I don't know what drugs they had you on
You said, "i guess this is not the time
For long term investments"
You were always laughing
But you were never laughing at me.

      Or from "Magician":

Release me from this body
From this bulk that moves beside me
Let me leave this body far away...
Inside I'm young and pretty
Too many things unfinished
My very breath taken away

Doctor, you're no magician
And I am no believer
I need more than faith can give me now
I want to believe in miracles
Not just belief in numbers
I need some magic to take me away.

     "What's Good," the only song I previously knew from this, sounds so much better in context here. "Dorita," which precedes it, is an absolutely wall-of-sound-wake-UP-the-party's-starting-and-it-ain't-gonna-be-pretty instrumental opener. And "Goodbye Mass," "Cremation," "Sword of Damocles" and the title song are just flat-out great pieces of music.

     I can't tell you whether you should listen to this now. But I can tell you to buy it, and keep it on hand. Even if you don't want it now, trust me, you will. 

Posted by: burninglight at 21:09 | link | comments