Y-Rock On XPN playlist 11.6.09!!

Under Review: Asylum Street Spankers – God’s Favorite Band

As I described in my concert review, the Asylum Street Spankers’ live shows aren’t quite what they used to be.  It’s also been a while since they released a proper studio album.  With the exception of their acclaimed children’s album, Mommy Says No!, the Spankers haven’t put out very much new material since 2004 (and even that year’s album, Mercurial, was a live-in-studio best-of).  Their new album, God’s Favorite Band, echoes the loosely religious theme of their new Salvation And Sin tour, presenting a set of live recordings of Spanker-esque gospel music.  Seeing as how this is a live album, the recording suffers from the same problems the live shows do: a rather thin mix in which some of the Spankers’ prized talented players aren’t even audible.  In many cases, the very talent of the performers saves the disc from these faults, but they are still hard to overlook when compared to the group’s much more impressive earlier albums.  Joined by wayward Spankers Guy Forsyth and Stan Smith (as well as some more recent departures), the songs sound a little forced, like a capable band just going through the motions.  Still, Wammo’s history in slam poetry gives great edge to “Right And Wrong,” while Forsyth’s rendition of “Shadrach, Meshach, And Abenego” is one of his finest interpretations of an old classic.  Perhaps the Spankers are just in a bit of a rut, having taken about a year off the road and recruiting some new but forgettable faces into their lineup.  If that’s the case, then God’s Favorite Band is a permissible misfire, only reminding us of how great this band was (and still can be) by showing that they’ve still got it after all these years.  What made the Spankers’ studio albums so enjoyable is that they offered something that their once all-acoustic shows couldn’t: sonic experimentation, overdubbing, retakes.  Sure, this rather bland album gives a good impression of their current live performances, but it, like the live performances themselves, pales in comparison to what the Spankers have shown they can do.

Under Review: The King Khan & BBQ Show – Invisible Girl

I’ve always been a fan of garage rock.  From skuzzy ‘60s gems to the Estrus Records-centered revival in the ‘90s, the genre’s aesthetics and attitude always resonated with me.  It was with great glee that I stumbled upon the music of Arish “King” Khan.  I was in California some years ago, listening to the satellite radio in the rental car my parents and I were in when “Torture,” from The Supreme Genius Of King Khan & The Shrines, came howling out of the speakers.  Certainly this was a forgotten track that as recently unearthed, I thought.  Much to my (pleasant) surprise, Khan’s music is very much a current production, as he is a rather prolific recording artist.  Reuniting with frequent collaborator/opening act, Mark “BBQ” Sultan, The King Khan & BBQ Show returns with a set of raunchy, fuzzed-out tunes that are sure to be a hit on transistor radios everywhere.  Invisible Girl begins with “Anala,” an ode to a girl whose name is pronounced exactly as you think it would be.  Profane humor isn’t the duo’s only trick, but it’s a major one.  “Tastebuds” is, at first, a “Palisades Park”-ish bubblegum tune before reaching its unspeakable chorus.  What sets The King Khan & BBQ Show apart from either member’s other outlets is the strong doo-wop influence.  Sultan’s deep voice contrasts Khan’s nasal wail perfectly on “Third Ave.” and “Do The Chop.”  The album’s lo-fi tone also compliments the retro music much better than the duo’s Black Lips collaboration, The Almighty Defenders.  Where that project’s gospel sound came off as a bit forced (and not carried through entirely), The King Khan & BBQ Show’s output is as impressive as any of The Shrines’ material.  In a musical landscape tainted by overhyped and overpaid prettyboys, Khan and Sultan do a great service in dragging rock ‘n’ roll back to its grimy, primal roots.

The Forgotten Arm: Shriekback

In preparing some Hallowe’en music for last week, I came across a classic track by Shriekback: “Nemesis,” from 1985’s Oil & Gold. Shriekback was one of those bands that was an offshoot of another, more well known (and successful) new wave band. In this case, the other band was XTC, which Barry Andrews left in 1978. At first, Andrews served only as Shriekback’s keyboardist and creative director, while Carl Marsh handled vocals and ex-Gang Of Four bassist Dave Allen added, well, the basslines.

Shriekback’s music was, at first, a more experimental extension of XTC’s then-jittery punk and Gang Of Four’s mechanical funk. Songs weren’t slow or ambient, but weren’t as spastic as some of their parent band’s tunes, either. Until Marsh left partway through recording Oil & Gold, the group failed to have any commercial success. With Andrews providing lead vocals on “Nemesis,” Shriekback gained a new, gothic rock sound and stronger direction. Soon, that stronger direction would force Allen out of the band, as the project became the solo venture of Andrews. Though Shriekback continues to this day (their most recent, 2007’s Glory Bumps even featured guitar work from the reclusive Andy Partridge), they have never achieved more than critical acclaim.

Click here to watch the video for “Nemesis”

Under Review: The Cribs – Ignore The Ignorant

Every once in a while I lament over the fact that there are just way too many bands out there.  I think about how music publications around the world hype bands that other countries have never heard (and might never hear).  Even of the bands that have already made a presence, it can be very tough to keep up with every new release, lineup change and style change.  One band that rather effortlessly wades through all that is The Cribs, whose latest, Ignore The Ignorant, is a quiet little masterpiece that pretty much defines the career of a band who’s rarely at the center of media frenzy.  With their newest member, Smiths guitarist turned everyone’s sideman Johnny Marr, the brothers Jarman bring forth a set of fun yet artistic power pop tunes.  Ignore The Ignorant’s sound is vastly different from that of its predecessor, Men’s Needs, Women’s Needs, Whatever.  Gone (but still appreciated) is Alex Kapranos’ stiff, spiky production and in its place is the work of Nick Launay, whose experience with post-punk legends like Killing Joke and Public Image Ltd. gives the new songs an appropriately rough and ragged edge.  There is an abundance of short, lad-ish Britpop songs here (“Hari Kari” and “We Were Aborted” are particularly great), but the real standouts are the slower and longer tracks.  “We Share The Same Skies” and “Last Year’s Snow” both feature Marr’s iconic chiming guitar, while “City Of Bugs” and closer “Stick To Yr Guns” explore feedback drones and delicate arpeggios, respectively.  The variety of songs shows how much this band has grown up since their inception less than ten years ago.  Though they might not be making headlines or appearing in the tabloids, The Cribs remain one of Britpop’s best-kept secrets.

Y-Rock On XPN playlist 10.30.09!!

Under Review: Devendra Banhart – What Will We Be

Once again, we’ve come to the timeless story of a weird indie artist signing to a major label.  You should know the drill by now: any rough edges that gave the artist’s early records their distinctive charm have been smoothed away in the name of corporate marketability, and the resulting record is pleasantly bland.  Okay, maybe that’s not the whole story, but listening to What Will We Be, it’s painfully clear that Devendra Banhart himself hasn’t even answered his own album title’s inquiry.  Where previous records of Devendra’s have come across as eclectic campfire gatherings, What Will We Be sounds forced, overproduced and distracted.  Instead of sounding a relaxed nomad pausing to lift some weary spirits with a song, Devendra too often sounds like, dare I say it, Jack Johnson.  Someone somewhere in the production process of What Will We Be decided that songs like “Goin’ Back” and “Meet Me At Lookout Point” should feature cold, slow-as-comatose arrangements rather than more tender, ballad-y ones.  The two-piece pairing of “First Song For B” and “Last Song For B” are as indistinguishable as they are sluggish.  To Devendra’s credit, What Will We Be has a few bearable songs in its chore of a 50-minute running time.  As on past albums, several of the songs are in Spanish.  On “Brindo” and “Williamdzi,” Devendra sounds eerily (in a good way) like Caetano Veloso, and the delicate, tropical musical accompaniment compliments that imitation very well.  The final track, “Foolin’,” shifts moods completely as producer Paul Butler of A Band Of Bees creates an instantly catchy reggae atmosphere.  It’s that kind of fun-loving experimentation that’s dreadfully missing from the rest of What Will We Be, making it another case in support of indie artists keeping at a beard’s length from The Man.

Under Review: Pink Martini – Splendor In The Grass

Some bands are so eclectic that each song on an LP sounds like a different set of performers altogether.  While they explore the many global permutations of the jazzy-lounge genre, Pink Martini’s own identity is never lost.  Because they make music like no one else has in the past forty or so years, it’s easy to overlook any lack of musical depth when presented with a charming set of songs such as their new release, Splendor In The Grass.  By no means do I wish to convey that I feel anything less than admiration and love for this album; however, several of the original songs on Splendor, unlike the originals on Hang On Little Tomato, feel very obviously original.  Still, the “little orchestra’s” worldly sound makes up for any lyrical shallowness.  Opening with the Neopolitan lullaby, “Ninna Nanna,” China Forbes leads a soft chorus in the playful yet endearing refrain.  Like on previous releases, it’s Forbes multi-multilingual performance that shines.  The French original “Où Est Ma Tête?” and the Italian sophisti-pop gem “Tuca Tuca” provide a classy overview of Pink Martini’s international pizzazz.  At Splendor’s center is an odd pair of companion songs: “And Then You’re Gone,” a fiery, mambo lament by Forbes, is followed by “Now I’m Back,” which features vocals from NPR justice correspondent Ari Shapiro atop a Krupa-eqsue big band strut.  As much as I balked at some of the original songs’ lyrics (the title track, which apparently features guitar work from Courtney Taylor-Taylor, is particularly generic), the elegant ballad “Over The Valley,” written by Forbes and bandleader Alex Lauderdale, is one of the finest songs in the Pink Martini catalogue.  Much like “Let’s Never Stop Falling In Love,” “Over The Valley” sounds like a lost torch tune from the Tin Pan Alley songbook.  To further this mission of creating timeless, universal music, a cover of the Sesame Street favorite “Sing” is included, complete with vocals from Emilio “Luis” Delgado.  The dichotomy of haunting and mischievous, of childish and heartbroken is part of what makes every Pink Martini album, Splendor In The Grass included, a thrill to listen to again and again.

Under Review: Tegan & Sara – Sainthood

Watching the documentary about the making of Tegan & Sara’s last album, The Con, it’s clear that the sisters Quin (who are seen every few minutes talking on a “Forest Fone”) don’t take themselves too seriously.  Their music, on the other hand, is always hyper-personal, perhaps making up for their otherwise informal behavior.  The sisters’ latest, Sainthood, takes its title from a lyric by fellow Canadian Leonard Cohen, though the songs aren’t quite as dark as that influence might suggest.  In fact, compared to the often atmospheric songs of The Con, Sainthood leaps out the speakers in a rather aggressive manner.  Songs average three minutes or less, and are mostly upbeat and almost punky in their structure.  More so than on previous efforts, the songwriting (and singing) of each sister is strongly defined.  Part of that could be due to Tegan’s more brooding singing, a technique she employs on “The Ocean” and, aptly, “The Cure.”  Sara’s songs are sturdy, too, with “On Directing” containing some particularly emotion-wringing lyrics.  Whether or not the album is more grown up is hard to tell, because the mature lyrics are often offset by bouncy and brash power-pop.  “Northshore” and “Hell” rock harder than anything you might expect from the sisters, and the keyboard stabs on “Night Watch” punctuate the song’s unusually weaving melody.  If there’s one thing that I can find fault with about Sainthood, the same goes for The Con, too: Chris Walla’s production style is a little too clean.  Chalk it up to spending so much time crafting the sterile albums of Death Cab, but Walla’s outside work (including The Crane Wife and his own solo album) gets suffocated in his pristine production.  Though Sainthood might not be as ragged as it could (and should) be, it’s still a great collection of tunes.  Tegan and Sara (the sisters) yet again show that Tegan & Sara (the band) is one of this generation’s finest pop groups.

Y-Rock On XPN playlist 10.23.09!!