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Consumable Online Issue 155
==== ISSUE 155 ==== CONSUMABLE ======== [September 21, 1998]
Editor: Bob Gajarsky
E-mail: editor@consumableonline.com
Sr. Correspondents: Daniel Aloi, Joann Ball, Bill Holmes, Tim
Kennedy, Reto Koradi, David Landgren, Sean
Eric McGill, Tim Mohr, Al Muzer, Joe Silva,
Lang Whitaker
Correspondents: Niles J. Baranowski, Tracey Bleile, Lee Graham
Bridges, Jason Cahill, Patrick Carmosino,
Krisjanis Gale, Emma Green, Paul Hanson,
Chris Hill, Eric Hsu, Tim Hulsizer, Franklin
Johnson, Robin Lapid, Linda Scott, Scott
Slonaker, Kerwin So, Chelsea Spear, Simon Speichert,
Jon Steltenpohl, Simon West
Technical Staff: Chris Candreva, Dave Pirmann
Also Contributing: Jason A. Dour, Jennifer Wallenfels
Address all comments to staff@consumableonline.com ; subscription
information is given at the end of this issue.
==================================================================
All articles in Consumable remain (C) copyright their author(s).
Permission for re-publication in any form must be obtained from the
editor.
==================================================================
.------------.
| Contents |
`------------'
REVIEW: PJ Harvey, _Is This Desire?_ - Jennifer Wallenfels and Jason A. Dour
REVIEW: Belle and Sebastian, _The Boy With the Arab Strap_ - Niles J.
Baranowski
REVIEW: Manic Street Preachers, _This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours_ - Tim
Kennedy
REVIEW: Archers of Loaf, _White Trash Heroes_ - Chris Hill
REVIEW: Bob Mould, _The Last Dog and Pony Show_ - Jon Steltenpohl
REVIEW: Various Artists, _I Wanna Be Kate_ - Chelsea Spear
REVIEW: Mudhoney, _Tomorrow Hit Today_ - Kerwin So
CONCERT REVIEW: Soul Coughing, Boston, September 12 - Chelsea Spear
REVIEW: Morrissey, _My Early Burglary Years_ - Bob Gajarsky
REVIEW: Rasputina, _How We Quit the Forest_ - Chelsea Spear
REVIEW: The Church, _Hologram of Baal_ - Joe Silva
REVIEW: Graham Coxon, _The Sky is Too High_ - Robin Lapid
REVIEW: Far Too Jones, _Picture Postcard Walls_ - Scott Slonaker
REVIEW: Sonichrome, _Breathe The Daylight_ - Tracey Bleile
REVIEW: The Flys, _Holiday Man_ - Joann D. Ball
NEWS: 1000 Clowns
TOUR DATES: Tori Amos / Devlins, Better Than Ezra / Possum
Dixon / Athenaeum, Broadside Electric, Candlebox, The Church,
Cravin' Melon, Irving Plaza, Jesus & Mary Chain / Mercury Rev,
Freedy Johnston, Korn, Lenny Kravitz, Ziggy Marley & Melody
Makers, Massive Attack / Lewis Parker, Bob Mould / Varnaline,
Reel Big Fish / Spring Heeled Jack, Samples, Sheila Divine,
Superdrag, Tripping Daisy / Flick, Mike Watt
Back Issues of Consumable
---
REVIEW: PJ Harvey, _Is This Desire?_ (Island)
- Jennifer Wallenfels and Jason A. Dour
Few artists succeed themselves like Polly Jean Harvey.
Between 1992 and 1995, Harvey released four albums, each one possessing
a unique energy and vibrancy imbued by its enigmatic creator. Harvey's
ever-evolving canon has spanned many genres, and the entire range of
human emotion; it expresses an earnest frankness that is both exciting
and disturbing. Her work spins evocative tales of passion and pain,
excess and deprivation. Drawing on archetypes and literature, her
lyrics have a timeless, classic quality; they sometimes touch deep
and ancient, almost genetic, memories.
After a three-and-a-half year hiatus from her solo work
(during which she recorded numerous side projects), Polly has returned
with a glorious new album. _Is This Desire?_ captures the essence of
longing, yearning, and heated passion - for both love and possession.
Stylistically, it is Harvey's most diverse effort yet, and at the same
time, her most accessible.
The lineup is mostly carried over from the 1995 tour, with
one important change: Rob Ellis, Polly's original drummer, makes a
welcome return. Because of Ellis, and the fact that Harvey is again
playing guitar during live dates, fans are beside themselves with
glee. Filling out the band are: close associate John Parish (with
whom she recorded "Dance Hall At Louse Point"), Eric Drew Feldman
(who worked with Captain Beefheart, The Pixies, Pere Ubu), Joe Gore
(Tom Waits), and Mick Harvey (Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds).
While the previous albums have seemed more like song cycles
than concept albums, _Is This Desire?_ treads on the edges of telling
a story. But it's a story like a dream, where threads are interwoven
and have an internal logic that makes sense at the time, but don't
once you wake up. Images are still archetypal, but less universal -
more personalized. "The Garden" describes a fall from grace, but this
isn't the biblical Adam and Eve as in the earlier song "Snake." With
each song describing the story of a different character, and the
stories overlapping, the "Desire" ends up being a kind of personal
mythology.
The influence of electronica and Harvey's collaboration with
Tricky is heard in several songs, giving this album a distinctly
different flavor than previous works. Synthetic drums are used in
some songs, but never without combining them with Ellis' crisp but
distinctly human beats. On "The Wind," Polly's vocal is a variation
of Tricky's signature style, but PJ's doing both the whisper and the
airy singing. In danger of being labeled "trip-hop," it starts with a
vibraphone roll, then guitar; a two-note bass riff joins in, then it
breaks into a cool beat. She even samples herself, using the string
tremolo from "Down By the Water."
Musically, _Desire_ is a study in contrasts. The mood goes
from quiet to raucous, then calm again, several times throughout the
album. Overall, the songs are less confrontational and more lyrical
than the early albums. Exquisitely understated songs like "Catherine"
can be at least as powerful - if not more so - than satisfying, dirty
rockers like "No Girl So Sweet."
The minimalistic "Electric Light" is about as low-key as one
can get, musically as well as vocally. Two songs later we are
assaulted by the breakbeat, clamorous and overwhelming "Joy." Polly
dresses the whole gorgeous mess with a classic "screaming" vocal.
Even more powerful live, it shows the outright fierceness that Polly
is famous for. You can't help but notice that her voice has more
range than ever.
Piano and other keyboard parts are featured more prominently
than ever before. "The River" has just soft clouds of guitar drifting
by, a rolling and turning piano melody, a slow buildup that never
gets to its destination. It also features a beautiful arrangement
for horns: a slowly building and shifting chord that echoes the
structure of the song. Even better is the sumptuous, soaring
"Angeline," which starts off the album. Sung from the perspective
of a prostitute whose true love is thousands of miles away, it sets
the tone of longing - and often loss - for the album.
But Polly hasn't lost her ability to do lurching, staggering,
swaggering licks either. Nor has she lost her love of distorting
preamps. The rollicking "My Beautiful Leah" proves both of these
facts. Still, despite the light heartedness, the theme is the same:
looking for a lost love whose heart could not ever really be touched.
Then there's the little matter of the first single. "A Perfect
Day Elise" is the perfect radio gem, telling the chilling story of a
scorned lover's murder. Rocking beat, driving bass, dissonant
guitar... and those strings. The mix on the album is very different
than the single mix, which is slickly produced, heavy on the vocals
and strings. The album mix is dirty and creepy in comparison, with
long echoes on Polly's voice.
Sometimes a work needs to incubate a while before it's ready
to be completed. Sometimes a classic is a long time in coming.
Harvey says she needed a break from the industry to rediscover her
love of music. It was well worth the wait... _Is This Desire?_ is a
masterfully crafted album from start to finish; quite possibly an
enduring masterpiece.
(Ed. note: The author is in charge of http://pjh.org , the largest
and oldest PJ Harvey website on the net. Recently having changed
webmasters, as well as having entered into a closer working relationship
with Polly's management, PJH.ORG is set to be one of the most exciting
places to go for all things Polly.
---
REVIEW: Belle and Sebastian, _The Boy With the Arab Strap_ (Matador)
- Niles J. Baranowski
It's a little-known fact, but over in England, the Scottish
septet Belle and Sebastian have actually had a Top 40 hit and appeared
on the British show Top of the Pops. What makes this so interesting
and unlikely is not that Belle and Sebastian have an inaccessible
sound, but the fact that they put so much effort into acting like
an obscure cult group. Not only do they refuse to be photographed
but their interviews are terse and tight-lipped and they have either
an intense fear or distaste towards live performance (their upcoming
American tour is four times as large as their first with a whopping
eight dates).
Fortunately, though, while Belle and Sebastian themselves
hide under their rocks, their music continues to grow and reach out
to the world. _The Boy with The Arab Strap_ is their fourth album
worth of material in three years (if you lump together the four EPs
that they released over the course of the summer of '96) and
continues their trend away from cutesiness towards the sort of
gorgeously written misery poems that Love and Nick Drake pioneered.
In an age of so much retro, however, Belle and Sebastian aren't
content merely to rehash the late 60s and early 70s. Rather, they
build upon it as a respectable musical tradition as the Smiths did
in the 80s.
While none of the band's members are as talented as the
Smiths' Johnny Marr, the orchestration that seems to be developing
in _Strap_'s 12 tracks is a direction that the band should continue
to pursue, if even at the cost of a few hooks (as it is here)
because it fits their largest musical strength, collectivism.
There's even a few new ideas in the arrangements; "Sleep the Clock
Around" may be the first folk-pop song to use buzzing theremin-esque
noises as a backdrop and it complements the frantic and worried pace
of the song so well that I hope the band continues to use it. On
the delicate, sky-blue "Is it Wicked Not to Care?" they feature
female lead vocals for the first time, to excellent effect as well.
Oddly enough, the best pop song here is "Dirty Dream Number Two,"
which contains a pretentious, wall-of-sound string section. Though
it comes off sounding a little bit like My Life Story, it's a huge
step above them in all respects and feels like a hit single.
Even the band's most ambitious experiment, a spoken-word
space odyssey called "A Space Boy Dream" isn't a total failure.
While it owes a huge debt to the Velvet Underground's "The Gift,"
it's much more musically varied. Though the poem is garbled by
both a thick Scottish accent and constant mumbling, it could have
been a brilliant instrumental.
On most of the other tracks, however, the lyrics are nearly
poetic. While they share the Smiths' predilection towards the nasty
side of youthful life, there's a specificity here that most of
Morrissey's songs lacked. Lead vocalist Stuart Murdoch can
alternate between shocking ("it takes more than milk to get rid
of the taste") to accusatory ("you were laid on your back with the
boy with the arab strap") or even a partially imagined incident
where Sire Records CEO Seymour Stein tries to take the band to
dinner and takes Murdoch's girlfriend home with him instead. All
of this could come off scatalogical or petty in lesser hands (this
means you, Beautiful South!) but Murdoch's smooth doe-eyed voice
makes the whole lot of it seem perfectly natural.
Though there's a twee streak that still bares itself at
times and you'll probably find yourself wanting to throttle
Murdoch during "A Summer Wasting" and "The Rollercoaster Ride,"
somehow it's unimportant because half of these dozen tracks show
the band reaching for a maturity, either in lyrics or music, that
they previously hid from. And at least half of the others (like
the tear-jerkingly gorgeous "Chickfactor") are so hummable and
pretty that it feels churlish to find fault with them.
So, Belle and Sebastian may not have made the album that
would save Britpop as some in the press have predicted. Instead,
they've proven themselves the torchbearer for the sensitive and
shy of the late 90s and at a time when youth increasingly gravitate
towards the thuggishness of new metal and hip-hop, I don't think
that's a virtue that can be dismissed so easily, especially when
_Strap_ is such a well-made album, appreciable even without its
noble sentiments.
---
REVIEW: Manic Street Preachers, _This Is My Truth Tell Me
Yours_ (Sony UK)
- Tim Kennedy
There are some albums that are hard to review because the
motivation is not there - but this is not one of them. This is
possibly the album of the year, and definitely the single most
important rock band of the 90s. Important not for record sales
though they are selling respectably these days in the UK (although
they were dropped by the U.S. affiliate Epic, and passed over by at
least two other major labels), but important because they are the
most intelligent, vital and interesting group for many years.
There has always been a contradiction in the Manics: on the
one hand music which blatantly borrows from the past and on the
other, lyrics which are quite unlike any in rock history. They
aren't the only band to borrow from their mentors but they must be
the only band to declare "originality is not important". WHAT
they borrow is of great importance however and always reflects
what they are trying to say with their invariably sad yet astounding
lyrics. James was widely laughed at for calling Nicky a poet the
other week in a UK music paper but you know what he is getting at
when you read the lyric sheets of TIMTTMY.
The themes are all Nicky's now - none of Richey's (the
guitarist and fellow lyric writer who disappeared mysteriously in
1995) words adorn this CD. That means that instead of the searing
verbal assault and deadly withering hail of self-hate, the words
are more reflective, still cynical/naive but more reserved. James
doesn't have to garble them to get them to fit on a line. Nicky
describes his insular domestic existence in the Welsh village
household he shares with his much-loved wife ("You Stole The Sun
From My Heart", "My Little Empire", "I'm Not Working", "You're
Tender And You're Tired", and more.) He also rails at the ageing
process and the toll that the band's youthful verve is taking -
fans or more likely he himself resents the fact that the band
didn't simply explode in 1992, and that they are still her slogging
away at being rock stars. "The gap that grows between our lives/The
gap our parents never had to stop/Those thoughts control your mind/
Replace the things that you despise//Oh you're old I hear you say/
It doesn't mean that I don't care/I don't believe in it anymore/
Pathetic acts for a worthless cause"
"Born A Girl" however reflects an old transgendered theme
that the Manics have always worried and chewed at. Nicky of course
wears a dress and eyeliner on stage to this day. "There's no room
in this world for a girl like me".
This album is more than just a turning from old lyrical
concerns - it also features music with a very 1970s prog rock
influence. Deep Purple-like riffs may pop up here and there, and
the feel of much of the CD is Pink Floyd, circa _Dark Side Of The
Moon_. It has those languid Rick Wright keyboards, lots of space
and echo, with quiet, reflective moments counterpoised by bombast
of almost inconceivable proportions by this band's original
standards. This was a band that wore ripped clothes, posed like
the Clash, idolised trash rockers like Dogs D'Amour and called
Axl Rose "the most underrated lyricist of his time".
But the truth is this band have always pillaged rock history
with no regard for current trends. At the time when Richey was
talking about Razzle, the doomed drummer of Dogs D'Amour, that
was as 'outre' as can be imagined. Everyone was into Happy Mondays
and Stone Roses and acid house. They were reviled at the time.
There is some wonderful, inspired music on this album.
Where for example Radiohead are virtuosos, who throw shadows of
moody despair, the Manics embody the pain of love and loss - and
know too well how to convey this with their music.
The opener "The Everlasting" is a soft rock epic on the
surface, but one with a depth that belies that description, and a
lovely wall of sound production in the manner of Phil Spector.
"Born A Girl" betrays a wayward guitar backing which is
completely bewitching. "SYMM" uses some back masked guitar and has
a killer solo that Dave Gilmour himself would be proud of. "You
Stole The Sun From My Heart" has a great hook in it which would
have Peter Hook standing legs akimbo and doing air bass. "My
Little Empire" begins with a lovely understated guitar figure
which Jimi might have used. "You're Tender And You're Tired"
features some great whistling (!) and a totally mad piano passage.
This track is probably the most inventive of the album - a slightly
60s psychedelic outing.
"Black Dog" sounds like Glen Campbell doing Jimmy Webb,
and has Nicky visualising himself as the hound in question,
faithfully running for his lover. And it actually works, believe me.
"Tsunami" is possibly the strongest song on the CD. It
combines a sitar-drenched musical backing and a rip-roaring
riff-laden chorus to match their best.
The UK single "If You Tolerate This Your Children Will Be
Next" is about the Spanish Civil War of the late 1930s. The
dialectic here is between Nicky's pacifism and his admiration of
Welsh farmers who took up the gun to help fight Spain's Nazi-backed
fascist coup of the time. Musically it seems to be weak upon
initial exposure, with a break beat and strings. It has a catchy
chorus though, and its Spectoresque production rescues it in the
end.
"Nobody Loved You" is about their lost comrade Richey "Never
had the chance to take you home/Now there's no reason/Just another
tomorrow/You keep giving me your free air miles/What would I give
for just one of your smiles/Just one of your smiles."
The finale - "SYMM" actually stands for South Yorkshire Mass
Murder. This song is a highly controversial attack aimed at the
Sheffield police, who by their omissions allowed nearly one hundred
Liverpool fans to die crushed in a terrace at Hillsborough Football
Stadium in 1989, and to this day have not been indicted for their
lack of action. "The ending for this song/Well I haven't really
thought of one/There's nothing I could ever say/That could ever take
the pain away."
This album has all the reasons why this group are mad, bad
and dangerous to know. They try too many styles, they dare to be
poetic, to be sensitive, and they open their wounds in public. No
album has (in 1997) or come close (in 1998) to the beauty of _This
Is My Truth Tell Me Yours_.
---
REVIEW: Archers of Loaf, _White Trash Heroes_ (Alias)
- Chris Hill
In my college radio days, whenever I grabbed an I.R.S.
album (Hunters and Collectors, R.E.M., Stan Ridgway, Let's
Active, the Alarm, etc.), I was invariably challenged and
delighted, regardless of the artist. Even the _Bachelor Party_
soundtrack had its share of innovative tunes.
I say this because, like a perfume bringing back memories
of an ex-girlfriend, as soon as "Fashion Bleeds" blew through the
speakers with its drum/guitar bomb blast, that delighted feeling
rushed over me. Grabbing the promo, Mitch Easter's name leapt
from the mixing credits. Besides a long list of producer credits
(R.E.M., Moose, Game Theory, to name a few), Mitch was Let's
Active's guiding force. Their _Big Plans for Everybody_ was a
staunch companion of mine for months.
But how much influence can a mixer have? Compared to the
feel of the Loaf's last, apparently a lot. Like '96's _All the
Nations Airports_, the new disc's produced by Brian Paulson and
the Loaf, and engineered by Paulson. But the ten songs on _White
Trash Heroes_ are individual sonic gems, and a step forward from
_...Airports_, whose songs had more of a grouped structure, less
independent strength. I think Easter is the reason for the
change.
The title cut (with its moody Vangelis beginning), the
palpitating "One Slight Wrong Move", "Fashion Bleeds" - all would
be welcome additions to everyone's local alterna-station. Eric
Bachmann's chest has grown hair - the deeper growl of the above
songs lacks the quavering voice of previous efforts (though "Dead
Red Eyes" reaffirms that yes, it's still him singing).
Also, the voice is further forward in the mix, and the disc
shines for it. His guttertrash lyrics (Bachmann writes the
words, the band - the music) are pulled from the seedier side of
town - whores, philanderers, sots, hypocrites, losers - splendid,
alliterative descriptions of people & places you visit at your
own risk. Sometimes painfully clear ("White Trash Heroes", "Dead
Red Eyes"), sometimes indecipherable ("Banging on a Dead Drum"),
these are lyrics that inspire transcription for contemplative
reading.
"Blow by blow/Chipped off shell and bone/Tripped and
talked around it/Could not walk through the crowd of careful
lies/Busted open wide" - the mournful regret in "Dead Red Eyes"
is followed by the muddied grind of "I.N.S." A good sequencing
choice, as are most of the transitions on this record. Songs
flow because of differences, not similarities. "Banging on a
Dead Drum", a middle-finger salute to jangle pop, all electronic
banshee vocals and guitar squall, trails "One Slight Wrong Move",
a radio-friendly puppy dog, with its "a hundred million people
could be wrong" vocoder-affected chorus. It keeps the pace
lively.
Like the bygone I.R.S. catalog, it's clear the Loaf are
artists having fun with what they're doing, yet committed to
their own advancement. This could (should) be the album to get
them mainstream awareness - if that's what they're after. This
is their last for longtime home Alias Records, and according to
a note at Go Loaf! ( http://www.wku.edu/~bob/archers/ ), the
excellent official webpage, "Each member of the band has
different projects that they are working on which will all but
guarantee a split in the lineup following their current tour."
That'd be a shame - the next Loaf album could only stun
and amaze. My fingers are crossed.
---
REVIEW: Bob Mould, _The Last Dog and Pony Show_ (Rykodisc)
- Jon Steltenpohl
If we are to believe Mr. Mould, the title of his latest
album is a little warning that things won't be the same musically
after this album and supporting tour. Gone will be the loud,
"electric" sound that's characterized most of his career, and in
will be the softer, gentler Mould of his "acoustic" tours. Yes,
_The Last Dog and Pony Show_ will be the sign off to Mould's
signature sound. Unfortunately, the album doesn't do Mould's back
catalog justice. The muddled vocals are buried deep behind the
raging siren guitars, and his venomous lyrics are diluted to
vinegar. Indeed, Mould seems to have lost all desire for these
songs, and the album, while certainly a decent effort, simply
pales in comparison to most of his work.
A recent interview with Mould reveals that this analysis
is spot on. Mould bemoans his trademark crunching sound and
expresses a yearning for his acoustic mode where, ironically, most
of these songs existed before the album. His current tour is his
last band tour ever, he warns. As if he were merely reading the
writing on his own wall, _The Last Dog and Pony Show_ leaves you
wishing for the acoustic versions of these songs.
On "First Drag of the Day", he goes overboard with trying
to spice up the music. There's "mix master" distortions added
without rhyme or reason, organ tossed underneath the mix, and a
single guitar phrase mixed louder than anything else which is
played over and over throughout the entire song. "Reflecting
Pool" has the same set of problems. It's hard to believe these
songs were included on the album. Similarly, the throwaway
"Megamaniac" was a simple studio indulgence on the part of Mould
that sounds like a low-rent Beck playing around. It's interesting,
fun fluff, but it seems like one of those songs that shouldn't
have made it out of the studio.
Still, a half hearted Bob Mould is still better than
average. "Vaporub" gives us the Bob Mould I think he wants to
be. Acoustic guitar on top of the band and lyrics which almost
show hope in the middle of despair are pretty much Mould's
hallmark, and "Vaporub" delivers. "Who Was Around?" uses a similar
style and succeeds with lyrics like "I was a child, and now it
seems so long ago / Why'd you abandon me? Maybe it's not for me
to know / No explanation needed, nothing can change the way things
went / You just weren't interested, I guess, I guess." Songs like
"Classifieds", "New #1", and "Moving Trucks" fill in the gaps with
catchy but average songs.
It isn't until the final track when Mould reaches his
epiphany. On "Along the Way", Mould recruits Alison Chesley on
cello and often features just her and his guitar. Mould really
sings on this one, and, for a few fleeting moments, he allows the
listener to hear his vocals. The song has class and pageantry,
and, if this is the future of Bob Mould, I'm all for it. This is
the mature version of the sound he started with on his first solo
album after Husker Du's breakup.
Ultimately, it is Mould's blurry production on the bulk of
the tracks that brings this album down. As a performer and a
songwriter, he's proven himself, and, in previous studio efforts,
he's produced great albums. But with _The Last Dog and Pony Show_,
something's just not right. It's almost as if Mould has made the
album out of a feeling of obligation to his fans, and his heart's
not in it. The result is a below average album from an above
average performer.
---
REVIEW: Various Artists, _I Wanna Be Kate_ (Brown Star)
- Chelsea Spear
In the liner notes for the tribute to Kate Bush, _I Wanna
Be Kate_ , executive producer Thomas Dunning talks of discovering
the adventurous, innovative singer/songwriter through Pat
Benatar's cover of "Wuthering Heights". Somehow I find this
heartening. While I have a great deal of respect for Bush's
considerable craft, and love the musicians to whom she's served as
muse, I can't call myself a huge fan of her work. Sacrilege, I
know, but if this die-hard can discover Kate through the
leotard-clad forebear to Alanis Morrisette, there's hope for
us all.
My main reason for wanting to hear this record was to
experience Syd Straw's rendition of "The Man With The Child In His
Eyes". Her spare, emotionally evoctive and utterly beautiful
rendition of the classic tune does not disappoint, though Straw's
considerable voice sounds thin and strange from using her upper
register so extensively. Nevertheless, her voice retains in
emotional content what it loses in technical prowess - it still
sounds like a nerve ending, crackling with life and imbued with
deep sonic hues.
The other artists on the album succeed through different
avenues. Susan Voelz' erotic reading of "The Sensual World" and
the Celtic-flavoured "Jig of Life" as performed by Catherine
Smitko remain faithful to the original recordings, while putting
their own personality behind them to great affect. Justin
Roberts' rendition of "You're The One" is better than it has any
right to be, given the Casio instrumentation and Roberts'
unfortunate vocal resemblance to Jim Creggan of the Barenaked
Ladies, but his belief in and love of the material helps him to
pull it off. The Moviegoers ride a bright, euphoric pop
crescendo to excellent affect on "Hounds of Love", and the Middle
Eastern tones that the Plunging Necklines and Trinkets of Joy
respectively bring to "Kashka from Bagdahd/Babooshka" and "Love
and Anger" complement the source material, with the Necklines'
haunting vocal harmonies enducing goosebumps in this writer.
Even The Baltimores' radical retread of "Running Up That Hill",
which owes a significant debt to Butterscott's cover of "Karma
Chameleon" and the playful indie-rock of Tully Craft, works.
So what doesn't work as successfully? Every compilation
and artist tribute must have a few clinkers, and _I Wanna Be
Kate_ is no exception. The comp hits its nadir with Diamond Jim
Greene's banjo-happy take on "Home for Christmas", which bears
an inappropriate resemblance to something from the Lowell George
songbook. Mouse put a stunningly awful grunge-metal spin on
"Coffee Homeground", which left a bitter taste in my mouth, and
the rap version of "There Goes A Tenner" by The J Davis Trio
loses something in translation.
All in all, _I Wanna Be Kate_ is a decent collection of
covers that inspired me to dust off my old Kate Bush albums and
throw them on. While this compilation will hold special appeal
for die-hard fans, this reviewer recommends it especially to
people who might have found her work intriguing but didn't know
where to start. You can get a copy by writing to Brown Star
Records at 1060 W. Glenlake Ave., Chicago, Il. 60660-2977 or by
checking out the website at http://www.tezcat.com/~stunning/kate/index.html
---
REVIEW: Mudhoney, _Tomorrow Hit Today_ (Reprise)
- Kerwin So
Okay, quick question: How many of you out there
first heard of Mudhoney only after Nirvana rocketed the Pac
Northwest and the "grunge sound" into the international
spotlight, or even after the cinematic opus _Singles_ came
out in 1992?
Unlike other influential Seattle luminaries from
back in the day like Nirvana and Soundgarden, Mudhoney
today continue on with, amazingly, the same lineup-- and
the same sound-- they unleashed on the world ten long years
ago. As vocalist/guitarist Mark Arm reveals, the title of
the latest LP, _Tomorrow Hit Today_, flashes back to "When
Tomorrow Hits" off of Mudhoney's first record: "So now it's
ten years later and-- WHAM!-- 'tomorrow hit today.'"
Obviously the passage of time is not lost on these four
gentlemen; unfortunately, the songs on _Tomorrow Hit Today_
seem to indicate otherwise.
From the predictable opening sludge-rock riff of "A
Thousand Forms of Mind", to "Oblivion"'s pointless narrative
of a woman in a wheelchair slaughtering ABBA's "Dancing
Queen" karaoke-style (Ed. note - also see the Jams, _1987_,
"The Queen and I" ) , to Arm's greasy snarl on the offensive
throughout (save a token instrumental number), Mudhoney, while
noticeably less frenetic, sound pretty much the same as they
always have.
Despite the talents of producer Jim Dickinson this time
around (who has previously worked with countless rockers from
Big Star to the Replacements), Mudhoney just can't-- or won't--
shake the tried and true formula of distorted aggro-guitar, slow
yelps and growls, and the bludgeon of a-- dare I say it?-- grungy
attack.
While Mudhoney has never cared much about selling
records, and this latest effort may satisfy long-time fans of
the band, don't expect _Tomorrow Hit Today_ to win over any new
fans. Like 1995's similar _My Brother the Cow_, this new LP
sounds exactly what you'd expect a Mudhoney record to sound
like - nothing ground-shakingly innovative, but consistent with
their tag as grunge's elder statesmen.
Savvier musicians know the key to remaining artistically
vital lies in staying open to varied influences and stretching
the limits of their own creative potential-- R.E.M. being the
classic example. With grunge music fading from the scene,
perhaps it's time for the members of Mudhoney to evaluate
their remaining potential as the milennium looms ever larger.
---
CONCERT REVIEW: Soul Coughing, Boston, September 12
- Chelsea Spear
Though the calendar had turned and fall had ostensibly commenced
a week before, Mother Nature smiled upon New England on the second
weekend of September. The sun beat down on the banks by the Charles
River at a degree of about 84 degrees, a breeze wafted off the river,
and a crowd of several thousand new and returning students and their
friends and neighbors rode a groove from the funky music filling the
air. The soundtrack punctuating this bucolic scene was none other than
Soul Coughing. This acerbic, dance-inducing quartet graced the stage of
the Hatch Shell to celebrate the impending release of their third album,
_El Oso_ with a set that blended older favourites with new tracks.
Sadly, the songs from _El Oso_ were the ones that worked the
least well within these live perameters. The latest album yokes the
band's musical aesthetic to a drum-and-bass beat, and tracks propelled
mostly by the canned-sounding breakbeats fell flat under the
circumstances; open-air concerts don't provide the best acoustics for
distinctive, techno-informed music, and the songs hinging on the use of
a drum machine sounded indistinguishable from one another. The standout
track amongst these was "Circles", a delightful nugget of arid, acoustic
guitar-driven melody and chunky rhythm that has appropriately been chosen
as the first single. Another untitled new tune made excellent use of a
cinematic, ambient-influenced keyboard midsection, which ran on a rhythm
that invoked the pulse of great cities at night, recalling Yo La Tengo's
"Moby Octopad".
The electronica-influenced sound with which the 'Cough are
presently experimenting worked better within the perameters of their
previous hits. Set opener "Screenwriter Blues" made excellent use of
a theremin-sounding keyboard effect that intensified the creative
angst that the song illuminated to eerie affect in words and music
alike, and "Bus to Beezlebub", which featured a new arrangement that
included a sped-up bridge with one of the drum tracks fron an _El Oso_
song; the band sped up and slowed down their delivery of the song,
until it sounded like a record being changed from 16rpm to 78 with
some pauses in between. And though the band's sound may not have
always come off without a hitch, they were a tight, cohesive live unit
with the presence of consumate showmen. Lead singer M. Doughty made
for a magnetic frontman that blended eggheaded intelligence with suave
bravado to excellent affect.
Local heroes the Gigolo Aunts opened the show with a set that
riffed, buzzsawed, and hummed with energy, but never broke into a
gallop -- or tried something other than the midtempo in which all their
songs were played. Unlike Soul Coughing, the Aunts never made any
brilliant mistakes by pushing the boundaries of what pop music could
be, and though they seemed sincere, their music sounded exactly the
same as every other band making the scene in town today. They do get
points for having an excellent record collection (their cover of the
Pretenders' song "Kid" closed their set), and a decent sense of humour
(one song was called "To Whoever Keeps Calling Me And Hanging Up, I
Hate You").
---
REVIEW: Morrissey, _My Early Burglary Years_ (Reprise)
- Bob Gajarsky
In the same spirit as fellow Britoners including the
Beatles, Oasis and Mansun, Morrissey has always used the
flipside of singles - better known as B-sides - to highlight
some of his best material. Far surpassing his last B-sides
collection ( _World of Morrissey_ ) and even his most recent
full length on Mercury ( _Maladjusted_ ), _My Early Burglary
Years_ contains sixteen tracks which vary in style, yet
remain true to the career path which Morrissey has long
since paved.
Ranging from the unavailable-in-the-States A-side
"Sunny" (along with both its B-sides and an accompanying
video), the T-Rex live cover of "Cosmic Dancing", and
shoulda-been A-sides such as the acerbic "Girl Least Likely
To" and a concert favourite, "Sister I'm A Poet". And, yes,
lyrics are included here, for those who wonder what stimulates
the enigmatic Stephen.
Even with the duplication of some album tracks and omission
of a handful of B-sides and other tracks (the Morrissey/Siouxie
collaboration "Interlude" jumps to mind), _Burglary Years_
will help fill many of the missing gaps in the collection of
Mozz-philes who don't wish to resort to buying bootlegs.
---
REVIEW: Rasputina, _How We Quit the Forest_ (Columbia)
- Chelsea Spear
With apologies to a writer for my previous publication (I
have to apologise, he'd better be reading this), Rasputina is a band
that would like to defy categorization. Their debut, _Thanks for the
Ether_, was the sleeper hit of 1996, blending pop songcraft,
impassioned vocals, chamber arrangements, and lyrics that were by
turn poignant, raging, and bitingly funny, through the musical
kaleidescope of a band comprised of three cellists. Unfortunately,
the media focused more on the band's onstage garb of corsetry and
occasional songs about vampires, and erroneously pigeonholed the three
lovelies as "goth". The band staunchly rejected the label, even as
they hit the road with the Cranes and allowed their most artistically
unfortunate patron, Marilyn Manson, to shit on -- I mean, remix --
their biggest hit, "Transylvanian Concubine".
Listening to the first few tracks on Rasputina's latest
release, _How We Quit the Forest_, may make some fear that the band
has succumbed to the worst stereotypes of this bat-brained subgenre.
"Leech Wife", with its distorted vocals, morbid subject matter, and
slicing arrangement, echoes all the worst tendencies of Manson without
his ridiculous, pro-Satan rhetoric and pompous importance. Other
songs, like "Old Headboard" and "Dwarf Star", at least alleviate these
tendencies with lyricist Melora Creager's trademark sense of humour,
and the spoken-word piece "Christian Soldiers" tempers its grotesque
description of an excorcism with the beautiful instrumental that backs
it up.
However, the entire album thankfully does not continue in
tribute to Manson. The band is at its best when they blend the organic
musical mesh of their cellos with gossamer, synthetic techno beats
straight from Madonna's _Ray of Light_. By far the most effective
tracks include "The New Zero", a club-ready track whose lyrical subject
matter deals with a hotel made entirely of ice in Sweden; "Signs of
the Zodiac", a morbid little number whose ebbing melody works to spooky
effect with a restrained vocal and deadly-sounding rhythmic undertow;
and the fanciful "MayFly", which percolates along to a staticky Casio
beat and "Greensleeves"-influenced tune. Even some of the louder,
crunchier tunes, such as "Things I'm Gonna Do" and the John Lennon-
influenced "Trenchmouth", work well because of the contrast between
the arena-ready crescendos and goosebump-inducing instrumental interludes.
In the end, _How We Quit the Forest_ could well be the _Return
of the Giant Slits_ for this musical underground's epoch. Like the
Slits, Rasputina got an unexpected amount of mileage out of an album
coming from such a tight musical focus, but for all the solid artistic
limbs they go out on, they also encounter some hollow branches that
can't support their musical vision. However, there's some truly
fascinating musical ideas, and I'm curious to follow the band onto
their third album to see how they continue their musical journey.
---
REVIEW: The Church, _Hologram of Baal_ (Thirsty Ear)
- Joe Silva
Just as most of the alternative set were grooving along to
_Starfish_, The Church's 1988 high watermark LP, the band told Rolling
Stone of all people that there music was better understood by those who
already been...er...um.."experienced." It essentially was a bang on
statement that the video to the album's killer track ("Under The
Milky Way") made indisputably clear. But while the band was busy
circling the globe a couple of times to capitalize on the LP's
achievement, they forgot to jot down "write more material while the
getting is good..." into their tour agendas. From there on, the
partnership between core members Peter Koppes, Marty Wilson-Piper,
and Steve Kilbey failed to come up with an ultra-successful blend of
pop and this undiluted psychedelia that could continue to make good
on their brief success.
While never having been completely inactive, the band return
again now with a fresh label deal and yet another set of guitar
dreamscapes to promote. But while the songs are still lush and still
wonderfully trippy, _Hologram of Baal_ may not quite be the comeback
record that the band have hoped for. Launched with an intriguing
assortment of electronic quivers and pulses, "Anaesthesia" begins like
a transmission from some otherworldy coop where the band and their
muse have been set to rust. But almost instantaneously, the song falls
into a mid-tempo grind that the LP really doesn't escape thereafter.
The melodies are so often wispy that even when the choruses might have
some flesh about them, they aren't asserted with a sufficient amount
of vim to capture your attention for long. Kilbey's singing still has
that pleasant abstract Dylan-esque quality to it, and Piper is still
quite handy at generating big atmospheres, but beyond that most of
these tepid numbers never sufficiently warm the album's jets enough to
help it sustain flight.
---
REVIEW: Graham Coxon, _The Sky is Too High_ (Transcopic/Caroline)
- Robin Lapid
With his own label, Transcopic, and his first solo album, Blur
guitarist Graham Coxon flies hyperspeed into the direction he nudged
Blur toward on their eponymous fifth album. On _The Sky Is Too High_ ,
he walks a tight-rope between plaintive sad songs a la Nick Drake and
Sonic Youth-style punk guitars that drift from sparse and moody to
dissonant and jarring. He anchors it all with shy, barely post-pubescent
vocals and a personality that screams and whispers at the same time.
The first track, "That's All I Wanna Do," starts off with Coxon's
soft voice cradling a gentle melody. Even when the acoustic guitar
erupts into a guttural and melancholy electric wash, the refrain lingers,
faintly redolent of a Blur pop hook. But for the most part, Coxon
abandons himself to the music in his head. "R U Lonely" is a quiet
number set adrift in acoustic guitar. It runs smoothly into "I Wish,"
which begins with acoustic strumming that suddenly fractures into
distortion-heavy discord. When Coxon isn't expressing his anger or
despondency in words, the guitar explodes and sings for him.
The album -- which Coxon wrote and performed by himself -- was
recorded during an alcohol-free period of teetotalism. The purging mood
is evident with lyrics such as 'In the daylight hours/ I go out and kill
the flowers.' On "Who the Fuck?" (a song reminiscent of Pavement's
"Conduit For Sale"), furiously reckless punk guitar and the cathartic
'Who the fuck you looking at?!' refrain break up a barrage of garbled
spoken-word lyrics.
Coxon makes subtle hints at the kind of infectious lo-fi melodies
on _Blur's_ "You're So Great," although his solo album is more bitter-sad
than bittersweet. The Blur track, seared with a naked intimacy, comes
closer to the bare-souled eloquence of his mentors than the new album.
But with _The Sky Is Too High_ , Coxon proves that, in time, he can
reach his grasp.
---
REVIEW: Far Too Jones, _Picture Postcard Walls_ (Mammoth)
- Scott Slonaker
Hundreds of bands play good ole-fashioned, sing-along,
tear-in-yer-beer barroom guitar rock. Most only make a modest living,
playing every dive from here to Flagstaff. Some get signed. And,
every now and then, someone rides the style to the top of the charts.
I guess that I don't want to spend the entirety of this piece
comparing Raleigh, NC's Far Too Jones to their Southern neighbors
Matchbox 20. The bar-rawk style is so common that no one can be accused
of ripping off anyone else- none of you thought of it first, okay?
That's not the issue with this sort of music.
But, the undeniable fact is that some of the songs on _Picture
Postcard Walls_ could very easily be mistaken for Matchbox 20 or Emmet
Swimming. One listen to the first single, "As Good As You" may not
reveal much, but, just like with "3 AM" and "One Headlight", future
spins will hook you. "As Good As You" is a soaring, melodious treat,
full of lyrical platitudes ("Everyone will live on time/Through these
limbs I watched you climb") just ripe for attaching your own deeply
personal meaning. And that's the secret of why these songs hook people.
Singer Christopher Spruill's mid-range, husky wail is familiar
and comforting territory, with occasional chesty bellows a la Darius
Rucker and Eddie Vedder. Producer Gavin MacKillop helps make the
band's above-average backing vocals sound quite good. The problem -
well, we're getting to that.
An odd thing becomes apparent after a few spins of this record.
Every track is such a polished, radio-ready shiner that everything,
even on subsequent listens, runs somewhat together. Is it possible to
have too many singles on an album? Taken individually, tunes like the
ballad "Stoned and Reeling" and the midtempo "Middle of Me" are
perfect, but maybe having too much perfection on one album creates some
sort of musical law of diminishing returns.
So, then, perhaps Far Too Jones should not try quite as hard
on their next album. Tune the instruments less. The bass player could
hire his cousin Billy Bob to produce. Something, anything, to mar the
shine just enough to give some more character.
I still recommend _Picture Postcard Walls_ to fans of the style,
and it's a crime that some of these songs haven't made it to radios
nationwide, but this record is best served in bite-sized chunks.
---
REVIEW: Sonichrome, _Breathe The Daylight_ (Capitol)
- Tracey Bleile
The name of the band and the title itself are verrry deceiving
- you half-expect ambient techno to come oozing out at you. What you
get from the latest and greatest power trio to surface from SoCal is
a super-surprising breath of fresh air - only it's a hit of pure
oxygen instead of mere gentle ocean breezes. Like their pop
forerunners; oh, say the Cars, or the Knack, or Squeeze, it's
deceptively simple - but if you lean in just a little closer, you'll
be in it up to your ears.
_Breathe The Daylight_ features some of the smartest and
sharpest foisting of poppiness upon the world (I haven't felt this
giddy since Supergrass) yet this year. They have gathered all the
right elements of songcraft -- take some drama ("Step Outside",
"There Was 2"), a strong steady pace ("Overconfident", "Dirty Water"),
and gracefully balance the punches with softness ("Coming Home" and
"Folding" with their John Waite/Babys' era feel points up the
substance behind the sound). Then take these key elements, polish
it to a modern gloss with just enough synth and effects (their nod
to alien abduction in "Saloman" will have you scanning the skies,
ready to be taken away) to complement Chris Karn's by turns
tremulous/soaring tenor, and you've got a sound with all of the
emotion and very little triteness that does just what intends, hooks
you and keeps you.
Sonichrome incorporates a lot of atypical instruments (bring
on the strings and tympani and a little barrelhouse piano while you're
up...I swear, on the super-bouncy "Innocent Journey" they've got a
whole Dixieland band in the studio), and bring a thoroughly fresh
perspective on "modern music" - transcending boundaries that shouldn't
exist between musical styles anyway. This is the kind of smart pop
that should be right up front and center and all over the airwaves -
we'll just have to see what the fall brings. Word on the street is
their live show leaves out all of the extra orchestra trappings and
still delivers the goods - in full.
This strikes me as the kind of band that has been working this
angle for a long time, and had the sound down and tight - all they
needed was a really good studio and solid backing to jump everything
up that extra notch to make them live up to the name - bright shiny
winks of talent bouncing off a polished song to dazzle, nay, even
blind you from time to time. This is a disc that needs to stay near
at hand when winter comes and you need the warmth of Sonichrome's
sunny, energized sound to melt away what ever might have you in its
icy grip.
---
REVIEW: The Flys, _Holiday Man_ (Trauma)
- Joann D. Ball
You may have already heard The Flys but mistakenly credited
their infectious new song, "Got You (Where I Want You)" to another
band. "Got You (Where I Want You)," was one of the standout cuts
on the soundtrack for the summer teen thriller flick "Disturbing
Behavior." And yes, it does kinda sound like a lost Alice in Chains
song when heard over the modern rock/alternative rock airwaves. But
even though the vocal stylings and the slightly dark, moody groove
sounds familiar, it's actually The Flys sneaking up on you.
Don't be so quick to brush off this Los Angeles-based quintet
as a one-hit flavor of the month with a catchy tune. There's a helluva
lot more than that happening on The Flys' debut CD _Holiday Man_ .
Like "Got You (Where I Want You)," "Afraid" is an edgy song which
quickly gets under your skin and sticks in your head. But with this
track, the band reaches deep into its own bag of musical treats and
makes good on its promise to "make heavy rock music that is fresh,
fun and danceable." The rise and fall of this eerie number, from a
piercing guitar lead over a slow throbbing bass into an emotional
outburst of vocals and drums, makes it the best tune on the record.
However, The Flys don't just creep along in the darkness, as
cuts like the explosive "Give You My Car" and the title track embody
the spirit of extreme sports by making full use of distortion, guitars,
and a rock solid rhythm section. The Flys succeed in taking the best
of grunge, metal, rock and hardcore rap and even throw in some funk
for good measure. And the song "Holiday Man" is proof that it can and
indeed does work. In fact, not since the Red Hot Chili Peppers picked
up a megaphone and got on the rollercoaster of love has there been
such a catchy booty shakin' number on a rock record.
A short but entertaining adventure, _Holiday Man_ ends with a
slick '70s styled, flirty number called "Sexual Sandwich." Ultimately,
The Flys are a bunch of fellas who love music, women, surfing and
extreme sports and wanna let you in on the fun. The band celebrates
all of these passions on this active, energetic twelve song audio
release, which also includes an enhanced CD-Rom portion containing
interviews and live performances.
---
NEWS: > 1000 Clowns, whose album was released in the last issue
of Consumable Online, has been dropped by their label, Capitol.
---
TOUR DATES:
Tori Amos / Devlins
Sep. 26 San Diego, CA SDSU Open Air Theatre
Sep. 27 Phoenix, AZ America West Arena
Better Than Ezra
Sep. 25 Orlando, FL Walt Disney World
Better Than Ezra / Possum Dixon / Athenaeum
Sep. 28 Chattanooga, TN The Bay
Broadside Electric
Sep. 25 Cambridge, MA Club Passim
Sep. 26 Waltham, MA Luthier's
Candlebox
Sep. 24 New York, NY Irving Plaza
Sep. 25 Washington, DC Bayou
Sep. 26 Huntington, WV Ritter Park
Sep. 27 Toledo, OH Sports Arena
The Church
Sept. 25 Portland, OR The Roseland Theater
Sept. 26 Seattle, WA The Fenix
Sept. 27 Vancouver, BC Richards On Richards
Cravin' Melon
Sep. 24 Anderson, SC Anderson County Fa
Sep. 25 Charlotte, NC Carolina Music fest
Sep. 26 Danville, VA Pittsylvania County Fair
Irving Plaza (http://www.irvingplaza.com - New York concert hall)
Sep. 24 Candlebox
Sep. 25-26 Bob Mould / Varnaline
Jesus & Mary Chain / Mercury Rev
Sep. 24 Ft. Wayne, IN Piere's Night Club
Sep. 25 Pontiac, MI Clutch Cargo's
Sep. 26 Columbus, OH Newport Music Hall
Sep. 27 Chicago, IL House of Blues
Sep. 28 Minneapolis, MN First Avenue
Freedy Johnston
Sep. 26 Philadelphia, PA Tin Angel
Korn
Sep. 25 E. Rutherford, NJ Continental Airlines Arena
Sep. 26 Philadelphia, PA Core States Spectrum
Sep. 27 Cleveland, OH CSU Pavilion
Lenny Kravitz
Sep. 25 Austin, TX Music Hall
Sep. 26 New Orleans, LA Marconi Meadows
Sep. 27 Houston, TX Theatre at Bayou
Ziggy Marley & Melody Makers
Sep. 25 Annapolis, MD United States Naval Academy
Sep. 26 Highland Hghts, KY Regents Hall
Massive Attack / Lewis Parker
Sep. 24 Seattle, WA Paramount Ballroom
Sep. 26 San Francisco, CA Warfield Theater
Sep. 27 Los Angeles, CA The Palladium
Mercury Rev
Sep. 22 Atlanta, GA Masquerade
Sep. 24 Fort Wayne, IN Pierre's Night Club
Sep. 25 Pontiac, MI Clutch Cargo's
Sep. 26 Columbus, OH Newport Music Hall
Sep. 27 Chicago, IL House of Blues
Sep. 28 Minneapolis, MN First Avenue
Bob Mould / Varnaline
Sep. 25-26 New York, NY Irving Plaza
Sep. 28 Philadelphia, PA Trocadero
Reel Big Fish / Spring Heeled Jack
Sep. 24 Richmond, VA Flood Zone
Sep. 25 Washington, DC 930 Club
Sep. 26 Philadelphia, PA TLA
Sep. 27 Baltimore, MD Bohagers
Sep. 28 Newark, DE Stone Balloon
Samples
Sep. 23 Sea Bright, NJ Tradewinds
Sep. 24 New Haven, CT Toad's Place
Sep. 25 Bridgeport, CT Fairfield University
Sep. 26 Portland, ME Stone Coast Brewery
Sep. 27 Durham, NH University of New Hampshire
Sheila Divine
Sep. 24 Washington, DC The Metro
Sep. 27 Philadelphia, PA The Khyber
Sep. 28 New York, NY Brownie's
Superdrag
Sep. 25 Atlanta, GA The Point
Tripping Daisy / Flick
Sep. 24 Ames, IA Maintenance Shop @ Isu
Sep. 26 Boulder, CO Fox Theater
Mike Watt
Sep. 25 Austin, TX Stubb's
Sep. 26 Houston, TX Instant Karma
Sep. 27 New Orleans, LA Tipitina's
Sep. 28 Pensacola, FL Sluggo's
---
Founded in August, 1993, Consumable Online is the oldest
music reviews publication on the Internet.
To get back issues of Consumable, check out:
WWW: http://www.consumableonline.com
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===
