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 Special note: In this issue we are reviewing 27 albums, almost twice as many as our last issue. Due to the larger number of submissions, we have not been able to include every album that we’ve received over the last 2 months. If you sent in your cd and don’t see it here, have patience, we’ll get you next time. Thanks. -mlp
Attack Cat 2004, Self Released It's hard for me to find someone rock the electronic, and when I do I think FUCK YEAH ELECTRONIC IS AWESOME! This album can literally be a journey through one’s psyche and can unleash exactly how you're feeling at that moment, or just in general. Serenity, complacency, anger or distress. I found this was good even if I was solemn and depressed, or when I had a general peace within myself. The music alone made the moment so much more significant and enjoyable, and it wasn't through words! I wouldn't recommend this experience to anyone remotely suicidal, however, as it may put you over the edge. For the most part this album is instrumental, but then there's tasteful singing at all the right times. Good arrangement of songs, good balance between organic instruments and non-organic. Ambience with energy. This is how to prevent waking up. -md
S. Brooks 2004, Digitalis Industries I’ve run out of clever things to say. Probably at a good time. I really like S. Brook’s In Preparations for Dance. The tunes are simple, gentle, and great for sitting in the dark. It’s a nice, “true” recording of guitar and piano with only a few overdub embellishments. His voice reminds me of Wille Nelson’s lower register, and carves the introspective emotion of loneliness beautifully. Some songs are short, some songs are longer, but all distinguish themselves while never taking away from the album’s cohesiveness. I wanted to give S. Brooks props without using too much flowery music critic speak; a review as basic as his record. I think I’ve failed, but In Preparations for Dance is proof of how little it takes to make a great album. -nno
Andi Camp/We're From Japan 2004, Self Released You are the Vehicle is a five song compilation CD with a two songs by Andi Camp and two by WFJ. Then they team up and do a cover of The Boss' I'm on fire. If I could rename this album I would call it Zen and the Art of Hitting the Ride Symbol. The drumming on this CD is intense. Andi Camp is a talented, and somewhat frenzied, piano player, like a less schizophrenic Tori Amos. Paired with her equally busy drummer, the duo create a modestly dense sonic mixture. Over this she whispers her words to you as though she is giving you a clue to follow her down some not quite reputable but highly intriguing alleyway. We're From Japan have taken to the logical extension of Phil Spector's wall of sound, though they seem to have left behind the brooding dissonance and modest tempo drudge for something a little more, I don't know, uplifting. It's still heavy and deep but the mood has changed. There is a sense of hope in these songs. Where once there was rain, now a rainbow. Where once there was a journey, now a destination.
Joey Checketts 2004, Self Released The Folklore Passages is a perplexing album. It evokes often dark, always deep, feelings in the listener. The vocals are haunting and strong, singing lyrics equally dark and frustrating. The guitar is fantastically percussive and serves to be a far greater rhythm instrument than a melodic one. The dobro is perfectly used, it drops in at just the right time to creep you out and excite you all at the same time. But there’s a catch to all of this. The album starts out with a great track, Daylight’s Fading, with haunting dobro to echo 21st century blues: “living inside a magazine can’t get enough/ are you stuck in a cubicle doing time wishing for sublime/ intuitions given freedom to those who see that the sun is rising/ lonely waves waiting no more hiding while daylight‘s fading.” But two minutes into it, the song, and whole album, goes awry when the track inexplicably ends. Instead of developing further on a great tune, Checketts cuts it off. Two minute songs aren’t all that uncommon in Checketts genre of acoustic blues, as long as the song is complete, there’s no sense in dragging it on. But Checketts rarely completes his ideas on Folklore Passages. My guess is that the idea behind the album is to drift in and out of different sensibilities with every tune, but I think it would be a far better album if he completed his thoughts one at a time, cut the tracks from 17 to 8 and finished all of his ideas. As it is, it almost seems like a confusing, drug induced daze. Bare in mind, the only reason I’ve written this much is because Checketts has great material. If the material sucked I wouldn’t bother with all this, but with a little polishing he could find himself in the company of a local blues boy doing far bigger things right now, Kelly Joe Phelps. -kc
Andy Cigarettes 2004, Self Released Tape hiss. Tape hiss. Tape hiss. Oh. I mean, Cherry Flavored Syrup Disease. No wait, What's Andy Warhol Doing In My Dick? Yeah, that's what I thought. Tape Hiss was recorded on tape as a result of some record label not wanting copyright lawsuits against them for re-producing samples from a movie. Why, I ask, doesn't someone care if they used samples from video games and TV sitcoms??? Anyway, eighties-modern-synth-punk-rock, that sometimes reminds me of the band Shwag. Distorted vocals, drum samples, keys, guitar and a whole lotta noise. The message Andy Cigarettes has is unclear to me, though at times it has something to do with Andy Warhol being stuck “in his dick.” None the less, it's fun to listen to. Cheers. -md
The Divided 2003, Relf Released Blueprint for Happiness is a combination of 90s NW alternative rock and 60s psychedelic rock. The album particularly seems to fuse the styles of Live and Jefferson Airplane. At best, The Divided employs an interesting diversity of instruments from random noise to a toy piano and has a very solid rhythm section combining interesting improvisation with consistent foundation. However, the rest of the band suffers. The lyrics are, at their most, imaginable, but are often confusing and obscure; reminiscent of the Airplane at times, but with even less coherence. The guitars are fairly uninteresting and, at times border on redundant. The album is listenable for the most part, but, in the end, is uninspiring. Overall the album fails primarily because it is too monotonous and doesn’t shake things up enough. -kc
Handgun Bravado 2004, self-released There isn’t much to say about Handgun Bravado’s album beyond: flawless post-modern punk. It sounds just like what was coming out when Bad Religion released Recipe for Hate and Pennywise made Unknown Road. It was then that punk rock became accessible and was forever changed. Out of the ridiculousness of the 80s, the 90s brought on the era of no nonsense rock bands. They didn’t try to do anything but write songs with speedy power chords and catchy melodies. That’s when punk became pleasant, and obviously was no longer a viable form of social rebellion. Though expressions of angst may be out one genre, the world of art/music is the better for it. And Portland’s music scene is the better for Handgun Bravado. Their playing is thoughtful, fun, energetic, and perfectly performed. The record sounds clean and Arne Cherkoss, the singer, is right in that warm vocal realm half-way between singing and speaking that gets me all reminiscent for the only part of adolescence I liked: rocking music that I could sing along to. I’m a curmudgeon now, and my desire for speedy music is about as strong as my nonexistent fantasy of seeing Gillian Welch naked. But I don’t mind the music when it’s around, and if Ms. Welch were to walk out of my bathroom without a towel on, I’m sure I’d get excited. So if you’ve got one of those “punk” friends, (mid to late 20s, long board, greasy hair, skate and surf video collection, and heavy smoker of all leafy plants), get him this record. He’ll like it, and you’ll get to hear it when you’re hanging out with him. Then keep an eye on the bathroom door, just in case. -ib
Higher Ground 2004, Self Released For a band to remain unsigned and yet release seven studio albums on their own requires determination, guts and a crazy sense that what your doing is right, just and the American way. Higher Ground is the quintessential American country rock band. They’re doing everything to keep playing. (They’re available for weddings folks!) And This Time 2004, only adds to the stable of records that they have to promote themselves into any venue. The thing about Higher Ground is that they can pull it off, they played one of my high school’s proms, to great fanfare and enjoyment. I can’t recall if they sold any CDs or garnered any new fans, but they were enjoyed. That said, This Time 2004, is full of songs that showcase impressive musicianship and genre crossing songwriting. Higher Ground is based in Americana bluegrass and old school country. The trick that Higher Ground pulls off is by sounding fresh and new in an established genre that has had many shitty musicians in its stead, as well as many great ones. Higher Ground, though, comes off original in a genre filled with imitators. This is largely accomplished by multi-instrumentalist Alan Glickenhaus. His mandolin playing on Czeck’s in the Mail is enough to sell the album. Glickenhaus brings many of the enjoyable sounds to the album, like weeping pedal steel and punctuated banjo lines. Suffice to say, Higher Ground would be little more than a decent bar band without Glickenhaus. Though singer Matt Demarinis adds the heartbreak and loneliness that makes country an established genre. His emotion and storytelling on Adelle weaves in and out with the melodies of Glickenhaus accentuating and bringing forth the power of the lyrics. There’s only one other person in Portland that has done so much with an established genre and that’s Pete Krebs. -bb
John Wayne Samurais 2004, Battle Star Records Seven Hearts Wouldn’t Do isn’t the lowest-fi recording I’ve heard, but John Wayne Samurais could benefit by saving up some money and getting into a recording studio. The music has too many layers and some of it gets lost in the mix of the album. It is the addition of cello and violin that provides an uniqueness to this band. The songs are reminiscence of Ugly Casanova Isaac Brock, but without the ego or attitude. Atrophic is the best song on the album. Intertwining cello and acoustic guitar lines meld with the sparse vocals to create a song that focuses on the melody of the instruments rather than the lyrics. This is John Wayne Samurais’ strength. Exploring this formula a little bit more and making the lyrics important when they do appear in the song could make the band, giving them a small niche and an audience that would buy their albums. Ever since Elliott Smith ripped off John Lennon when he double tracked his vocals, songwriters feel that they need to do the same trick over and over again. Well now this trick seems over played and bands need to trust in their vocalists. Even John Wayne Samurais could benefit without the double tracking of vocals. The songwriting is there, the lyrics are there and instruments are there; John Wayne Samurais just need to get out, play some shows, get an audience and they could go somewhere. It’ll be interesting to see where they go. -bb
Paul Kerschen 2003, Byzatine Records At times this album sounds almost folkish, but then Paul picks up the tempo and rocks out on the guitar making it more indie emo-rock. Sound and songwriting influences--I'm guessing Thurston Moore and big fat, bald Frank Black. There's a good balance of screaming guitars and other various background sounds. Tasteful melodies from a real piano, and the occasional vocal harmonies give a nice lightness to the otherwise weighted down feel of the album. I had a hard time with this record at first listen because I had to get used to Paul's unique vocals. A lack of tonal quality can be a good effect, if that's obviously what you're going for. But sometimes I found myself frustrated, and had to re-orient myself. I gotta say I enjoyed the openings of the songs the most. A nice intro makes a person, especially me, excited for the rest of the song. I say open up those vocal chords a bit, maybe add some female back-up musicians and match that high energy you are otherwise putting out. -md
Lackthereof 2004, Self Released The trouble with writing about any project Danny Seim works in is figuring out, a: how to describe it, and b: how to lavish new praise. This man seems to have a limitless amount of creative energy. This is his 9th solo release under the moniker Lackthereof, he’s the drummer for the much-loved Menomena, and he’s arguably the most creative cd cover/flyer designer you’re likely to find anywhere. (He has hand-built every single flipbook cd cover that Menomena has sold.) So, in keeping with the first of the 2 tasks at hand, let me try to describe the music of Christian… First of all, front to back, this record asks the familiar question, “Raised Christian, now what?” As for the music, let’s look at track 5, Tongues O’ Fire!, which is a good sampling of the album as a whole. At times it’s downright silly. Think hidden room in a Super Nintentdo Mario Bros spin-off game…something with monkeys and mushrooms. Then, within the same song, things get much more serious. The beat becomes really simple, melody ceases, and a spoken lyric in the style of The Edge from U2’s Numb, says: I’m nodding off/I need a case of No-Doz just to get thru this/I’m giving ten percent and passing the plate/while smiling so hard that my jaw is on fire. Then back to the video game. The difference between this song and the rest of the album is that normally Seim is singing in a heart-felt, slightly strained but accurate voice. The flavor of his tone, his range, and his harmonies—there’s something here for everyone to sing along to. So hopefully that describes the music. Now to heap new praise. I’m pretty sure that no one has said, “For a really tall guy, Danny has a pretty voice.” And I imagine it has yet to be reported that if Lackthereof were a country, it would be a self-accusatory, liberal playground with the only civil requirement being daily masturbation immediately followed by soft-spoken recrimination. I think that covers it, though, as far as what hasn’t (or will never) be written about this guy. In a safe, sane, truly God-fearing world, Christian the Christian would be all the rage, and crazy people in Pioneer Square would be trying to convince you of its evil. -ib
Will Layng 2003, Self Released I have to admire Will for not being afraid of wearing his politics on his sleeve. Singer/songwriters tend to stick to the internal tortures of love lost and self-deprecation. Cryptic lyrics and romantic literary references seem to command more respect than simple observance and protest of current events. To speak out against the government is to date yourself. You are filed away as an acoustic, hippie, novelty act and will play to the chuckling delight of the food court at Saturday market. Political music ages and yellows quickly like the daily newspaper, so I think it takes balls to create in this vein. The heart of Baths or Showers is good, and in tradition of Bob or Woody, Will is unconcerned with his singing prowess and more with his message. This message, though, is often a little too simplistic, and could benefit from more poetry and metaphor. I agree with his politics, but don’t feel any urgency or pain. His only personal connection with what he’s preaching is being denied a rental car because he is under 25. (His point being he can be drafted, but he can’t rent a car). The song, Let’s Roll, continues, “Let’s roll up our sleeves America, and stick a gas pump in our vein.” Expressing the epidemic of fossil fuel consumption in the United States, while trying to rent a car from Portland to Memphis, seems contradictory. So which are you bummed about? Your limited rights as someone in their early twenties, or our dependence on oil, and the war because of it? Musically, the concept is best expressed in the hay-bale style country of War on terror, War on drugs, and the title track Baths or Showers. These songs have a good two count “This land is your land” feel. The attempt at “rocking”, Jealous Lover, should have been left out completely. It is a substance-less number that leads into an over-the-top guitar solo. Country is your medium, Will. The reason most songwriters stick with personal issues is because it is a territory they are experts in. Good political folk doesn’t just come from reading the headlines and attending rallies. When living in the wealthiest country in the world it is especially difficult to convincingly speak out against injustice. You need to either be one of the marginalized or have a deep connection with the pain in your past lives (not to sound too woo-woo). Baths or Showers has good intentions, and unlike other, more self-indulgent projects, it at least attempts to speak out; but I think it falls short. Instead of renting a car, try hitchhiking next time. You’ll get better material out of it. -nno
lkn 2004, Greyday Productions I played the first few tracks of Newman’s album for a friend. We got through the first track and a half in silence. The first song, audaciously titled Varientklan II, is an amorphous collection of noise and tape speed adjustment. Track 2, Jussive, is as good as a rock song as one can find. It’s my favorite song of the year so far. Toward this end of that track, my friend Jesse said, “This is world class music.” He’s right. Unless you’re offended by loud guitar, screamed vocals and heavy drumming, this is, indeed, a world class album. There are a few aspects of In the Leap Year in particular that deserve accolades. First of all, Newman plays virtually every instrument on each of the songs. It sounds like a full band, though, and it sounds like all the instruments are being performed at the same time. That’s really freaking hard to do. The songs range in style from early PJ Harvey to Jimmy Hendrix at Woodstock. The flow of the styles is well-arranged. Every song sounds different from every other song, and I rarely get bored. Therein lies the only problem with the album for me. There are songs that I do get bored with. According to LKN, most of the songs are new, and some even written during the recording process, like Sugar of Lead, which reeks of sweat and inspiration, but unfortunately fails to deliver me to that rock and roll nirvana. Newman is obviously a seriously dedicated and talented performer, but sometimes the albums sags under the weight of its own improvisation. It’s hard to put out an album, and LKN deserves a lot of credit for her effort. And you deserve to own it, knowing that with a little more time and consideration given to the overall song choice, she could put out something even better than really good, which In the Leap Year is. -ib
Michael Meanwhile 2004, Self Released I don’t listen to much pop music. Jazz, funk and hip hop occupy the majority of my stereo’s time. That’s not to say that I don’t listen to pop music, I do, but it is to say that it has to really appeal to me for it to make the cut into my stereo on a semi-regular basis. To me, a pop album is successful if, repeatedly while listening to it, you feel a direct connection to what the author is talking about. This album hits that sensibility for the most part with only an occasional miss. At its best the lyrics are heartfelt and, at least for me, honest and relative, the album is catchy, both lyrically and melodically. After a slow start the album establishes a melodic flow that is very consistent and features talented instrumental work from Garth McDermott, Paul Umbach and Meanwhile himself. Its finest moments are the whimsical, yet poignant First Love. The tune’s lyrics are honest and hit home with frightening accuracy (especially for anyone who has lost a girlfriend to farming, as I have), and typify Meanwhile’s songwriting throughout the album. The track features solid backing by the organ, bass and finger-picked guitar. The album’s finest track is its last, Go Start the Car. The two part harmony, bass, shaker and acoustic guitar frame a very good song that’s not likely to leave your brain for some time after you’ve listened to it, due to both its melodic hooks and its lyrics. Frankly, if the rest of the songs on the album were as good as Go Start the Car, I might have to completely reassess how often I listen to pop music. -kc
Neederbellis 2004, Self Released There’s something quite strange about this band. I can’t tell if they are trying to be serious, or if they feel that they are being serious, or a mix of the two. Neederbellis had the balls to release two “debut” albums. The full length Yeah, on which the sounds of a full band come from a duo of multi-instrumentalists, and Acousticleez, which was recorded live on the last day they were in the studio. Yeah is filled with songs about sucking dick, drinking, and fucking ourselves with the Brushfire in your Panties thrown in for comic relief? I really don’t know. The music itself is chaotic and jumps from one genre to another in mid-song. The only song worth mentioning is Chirp, which combines the lovely noise-smithing of Sonic Youth with a collage of political samples that results in probably the most poignant song on the album. Acousticleez is more of the same, without the genre hopping in the middle of the songs. The lyrics don’t make any sense and the playing is all right. Recorded Neederbellis doesn’t do it for me, but I have this distinct feeling that their live show would be a spectacle to see. —bb
Paul and Diego 2003, Self Released A list of percussion instruments Paul Evans skillfully uses on this album: a carpet wedge, a trashcan, pot lids, bottles, tins, fans, and pans. On many a song he fades in beats and taps, making layer upon layer of intricate patterns that is at times, a little much on the ears. Then after a few measures, a horn blasts, then after a few more measures, guitar. Followed by a couple minutes of jam and ending in a fade out. It's kind of like stepping in at the middle of an funny story and stepping out before hearing the punchline. Those songs are all about the rhythm. But Paul is not a drummer by trade. He is a sax player and a pianist. And it is his own compositions, minus all the tippity taps, that are the most interesting. One Big Empty Room is a melancholy solo sax piece that has a cool, "The night was cold, but the whiskey was warm," feel to it. Fedora adorned private dick, drunk over some dame from the last case that he had to put two into. "It was me or her," he says as he throws back another slug of rot gut. -sh
Pharrah Phosphate 2004, Candlethief Records Parental Advisory. This review is gonna be dirty. Imagine a tryst between Martin Gore and Robert Smith in a sleazy Motel. A bottle of Cook’s, INXS playing on the boom box, and U2’s the Edge, watching and masturbating in the corner. If this ugly, 80s orgy were to produce a love child, the product of shame left in a shoe box by a dumpster, that baby would be Pharrah Phosphate. This is not just a rash insult, as I myself have spent some intimate moments with the band’s self-titled album. I was finally able to wade waist deep into the overproduced, twelve song, sentimental extravaganza, and I found a part of myself that had long been lost. I realized I need to take off the irony colored glasses that have shaped my opinion of music from the 1980s. I need to remember that at age eight Foreigner’s 4 was my favorite album, and that I used to think Journey’s Escape was brilliant, not just a laugh at a party. So my initial repulsion to the piano and keyboard decorated emo rock eventually melted. By song eight I found myself dancing naked in front of the mirror, with my balls and cock tucked between my thighs (I call this the “man-gina”). I was a superstar and the world was beautiful again. Thank you Pharrah Phosphate. I was never able to get past the lyrics, though. Even the corniest lyrics of decades past have substance and a tangible universal message. While a lot of the singing on this album sounds heartfelt, I find that the actual words are empty or vague. You would also think that such dramatic production would lend itself to a bit of humor, but the singing is all very serious. I thought different for a second when I heard the track Everything Girl. “Everything girl you’re looking so pretty/with your pig tail braids and saggy titties.” I laughed out loud, but upon checking the lyric sheet, I found out he was really saying “sad ditties”. Bummer. So in the end, I say corn ball out, we’re on the cusp of the “post ironic age” where cynicism just isn’t cool anymore. High drama is the order, and the more melodramatic the better. I love it. I love it. I love it. Just give me some ideas to sink my teeth into, and remember: if we’re not laughing with you, we are laughing at you. -nno
Jessie Rae 2004, Self Released Jessie Rae, technically, is a very good band. But this is music made by and for aging baby boomers that want to rediscover the bluesy funk of Big Brother and the Holding Company with vocals (by Joan Meyer) that want to break out like Janis Joplin’s and yet aren’t angry enough to do the task. In some songs, Meyer can be slightly darker than Joplin, but in a more depressive way then in a painful way. On the toned down songs, this works, but on the funkier songs there needs to be more pain rather than sadness. Don’t Care is a good example, where the funk comes in with a piano in a very White Album-esque style, but instead of the rock that Paul or John could bring to the song, Meyer goes for a more sultry, seductive voicing that I don’t think does the song justice. There are some very soulful, funky and reflective moments on this album, without the guitar player (Jim Bronson) exploding into a Phish-style jam session. But something tells me he really wants to play straight Dead-Head noodling for 20 minutes. Jessie Rae would be a good opening act for the Portland Blues Festival, but they are definitely stuck in an established genre and seem happy to be there. -bb
James Sasser 2004, self released Most first albums are about artists searching to define themselves and with Southside of Sorrow, James Sasser has set out some solid options for the future. By going full-tilt country/pop (where exactly is the sorrow?) with a well-produced ensemble, he lost the rootin’ tootin’ charm of, say, Hillstomp. Steering clear of the solo route shows ambition, but Sasser is also hiding behind the numbers. Many of the songs feel reserved. His voice, while clear, doesn’t have any “umph.” If there is a ray of hope on this CD, it is That Kind of Day. With distorted harmonica soloing wildly in the background, this is the kind of song you can let loose to. And if country contributed anything to American music, it’s songs that beg a hearty “Yeehaw!” -mhw
Scuffle & Dustcough 2004, Shuffle Boil No. 3 S&D is a trio of guitar, cello and drums. Instrumental and mathy, the 7 inch starts in 7 and leads the way for more noisy, odd meters to come. The instrumentation is cool and they can get lots of interesting sounds out of the cello. It’s a good blend of noise with rock and roll song structure. I know you could make the same comparison to the entire genre of this kind of music, but they remind me of Shellac a little bit. Once again, four songs and you can’t go wrong, and I flipped this one quite a few times. You can hear the room in the recording, but in a good way, especially on vinyl. It’s just cool to hear a cello rockin’ instead of setting the mood for some droney shoe gazer act. Tight band, I’d like to see them live, and am curious how they might pull off a longer recording. Nice one! -nno
Sex With Girls is Rad 2004, Self Released Good music is like good sex and when it happens it is, in fact, rad: at once self-serving and self-sacrificing. Sadly, this band is just masturbating in your ear. Their album is little more than a musical blog (though there are plenty of strictly dialogue tracks) — and surprise, all the band members have LiveJournals which you can find via their Web site. To add charming yet tired local flavor, the first fucking track is a message from Mercury Editor Steven Humphrey to one of the members restricting his excessive use of the “I Saw You” column. It’s worth a cheap laugh, and there are a few other funny moments on the CD — notice how I’ve stopped talking about the music — but where does it say funny=crappy? Bands like Tenacious D or Reggie and the Full Effect get laughs and they actually TUNE their guitars. Perhaps adding female drummer Amanda Wagner will focus the boys’ energies on the band — because they obviously like focusing on girls so much. -mhw
Shortway 2004, Self Released Taking the melodic vocals of System of a Down, the mystic feeling of Floater and the psych-rock of pre-MTV Incubus, Shortway makes decent listening for the high-minded-metal crowd. Giving away the member’s taste for social irreverence, the first track, Ice-9, references Kurt Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle (but you knew that already). Momentum will carry you through half of the album before it starts to sound repetitive. The humorously misplaced recorder on track 2 conjures visions of midgets dancing by a mini-Stonehenge and would have been better saved to give pause later in the album. The songs generally hold their riffs too long rather than following the more classical progressions needed for the cathartic impact Shortway is reaching for. There are a few lines of excellent lyricism among a lot of high school poetry: “And then spoke of these things/and passed them on/so that others saw/what is and what was/and what is because.” Such moments on this ambitious first album hint Shortway could go the distance. -mhw
David Smith 2004, Self Released On More Songs Smith fills the audio plane with a strange mixture of Tom Waits-ian percussions and soundscapes with the down home melody and country flavored folk songs of Bob Dylan. It is every music nerd’s wet dream to have Waits and Dylan collaborate together and one could just imagine that the results would be fantastic, or a huge disappointment. Smith covers all the bases on More Songs. The opening song, Something, reflects the disaster that could come from a Dylan/Waits collaboration, with Waits over-powering the gentle melody that Dylan is trying to get out. But if you can continue on after Something, Smith seems to get the formula down by putting his Waits-ian influence in the way back and letting his strength, Dylan, come out full force. Flood is a good example, where the stuttering, stopping dual guitars reflect the song’s urgency, while the melody floats above it all. Lyrically, Smith can get his message across — even if some of the lines seem silly, they reflect the story line of the song perfectly. Smith has a religious theme that runs through most of his songs, but it is very gentle, in the similar vein as Nick Cave has religious themes. More Songs seems to have been home recorded and it has that very comfortable intimate quality that good home recordings can have. If you listen to this album in the dark there are certain times — the harmonica coda on Masters Slave — where chills will run down your spine. -bb
Thebrotheregg 2004, Rubric Records In ‘99, Portland’s thebrotheregg released a 3 song EP on Jalopy Grotto, containing stripped down, acoustic versions of three of the songs that appear on their latest, Snowflake and Fingerprint Machine. The three acoustic songs (Billy Barty’s Brains, Dark Workmanship, and Dormant Podling) show the power and careful songwriting of front man Adam Goldman, but the updated versions on Snowflake… lose the power and urgency that made the untitled EP gain my respect for thebrotheregg. It seems on this outing that Goldman and the rest of the band got caught up in the word psychedelia. Snowflake… experiments with the same sort of sound collages that the Elephant Six Collective made popular a few years ago. While all the songs are great pop tunes, it is the sound collages placed throughout that try the listener’s patience. Snowflake… had the opportunity to be a great Portland pop record, getting everyone’s head in the city boppin’ back and forth, but because of the love for Olivia Tremor Control, it just can’t get there. Currently, thebrotheregg are working on a new release titled Aortica Mor, and I hope that this time around the band have put away their copies of Black Foliage, Vol. One. Because I know that thebrotheregg are capable of a lot more. -bb
Vagabond Opera 2003, Self Released Somewhere in the world, on some cobblestone strasse, a wedding is taking place, wine is being liberally served, perhaps some baklava or matzah balls are sitting lonely on a ravaged buffet table and the entire party is dancing to a band they wish was The Vagabond Opera. They are perhaps the most fun band I've heard since the Squirrel Nut Zippers. While The Zippers main focus was updating 1920’s swing, The Opera spends its time reviving old world folk songs. Akin to those they named themselves after, the vagabonds, it's clear they find the most joy in the music they make. There is, even in the most haunting and moody songs, a sense of mirth and elation, as though there is nothing better in the world than playing. While I can respect their decision to honor those that came before them, my main complaint is not enough originals. From Stern's ode to Portland, Freemont Street Stomp, to the body jerking, 7/8 time, Reine De Le Rocca, to the spooky and dizzying, Scary Tale Theater, these are the biggest treats on Get On The Train. Eric has a great sense of humor that comes through not only in his lyrics but also in his compositions. -sh
Welsh Rabbit 2003, Self Released Here we have 7 songs by a 3-piece band of very talented players. Welsh Rabbit is an enthusiastic band with one of the most dedicated members of Portland’s rock community, namely, Nick Levine, the glue which holds together the Portland Rock Collective. That said, it’s a downright shame that with so much energy put into making this album, it just isn’t very good. Like I said, the playing is totally there, and the passion is obvious, but the music is predictable, the lyrics embarrassing, and the artistry completely lacking inspiration. One of the songs, Last Line actually has the lyric, “I just want you next to me/for one last night of ecstasy.” And the high note Kyle Chilla tries to hit at the end of the line almost makes you cringe. It’s a sad moment for rock and roll. Not everything on the album is quite so difficult. Around 1 minute into Reflection or Three, the song opens up into a melodic daydream similar to the best of The Beatles, which seems to be a big influence on these guys, but then the harmonies come in at the end of the track and they’re totally off-key and it ruins an otherwise fun and pretty song. But there is one really good song on the album. Breakup #2 is by far the best that Forward Motion has to offer. The singing is really good, the chords are perfect, there’s some spacey keyboard stuff floating around in the background. It’s an all-round rocking good time. For what it’s worth, Welsh Rabbit is a good live band, and should they record another album, chances are good it will be much better. Sooner or later, enthusiasm has to pay off. -ib
Will West 2003, Will West Music First, a confession: I play guitar. And sing. At one time or another, I have been Will West. He and I are brothers (not really, though we do share a last name). That doesn’t mean his meditative Ani Difranco-Dave Matthews-lovechild style will work on me. Everyone has their little pet singer/songwriter whom they show close friends when their music cred is at stake. Unfortunately for West, my slot’s all filled up. He’s got talent, sure. West’s guitar and vocal work on this live recording are crisp and calming. They’re also repetitive and lazy, depending on how you take it. He opts for a stream-of-consciousness lyric style, which is fine for artists but often annoying to listeners. If Will West is a puppy, he’s not the adorable one the humane society puts on TV, but there are still plenty of people who’d be happy taking Will West home. -mhw |
