Old-Fashioned Amenities

Track after track of sincere classicism, internationalist anarchism, and foiled espionage

Pick Hits

BELL ORCHESTRE
Recording a Tape the Colour of the Light
(Rough Trade)

More Sufjan Stevens or Bang on a Can than Tortoise or Juan McLean, this chamber-pop quintet with Arcade Fire connections varies its cunningly sequenced, gratifyingly brief instrumental tracks with such old-fashioned amenities as textured melodies, pleasing dynamic shifts, and passages that, if they don't actually r-o-c-k, at least bound down the road in an excited manner. One advantage of sincere young things who believe ancient history directly preceded MTV is that for them Gil Evans and Terry Riley are as classical as Mozart and Debussy—and Tchaikovsky and Mussorgsky are cornballs. A MINUS


image
FRANK LONDON'S KLEZMER BRASS ALLSTARS
Carnival Conspiracy
(Piranha)

It's a conspiracy because it requires confederates. Without them, the trumpeting Klezmatic would lead one more blotto wedding band. Aided not just by such co-klezmerists as singing Klezmatic Lorin Sklamberg and singing Brave Old Worlder Michael Alpert but by a Brazilian drumming school and a Ukrainian avant-folksinger and nine Orthodox women set on defying the Orthodox ban on men hearing women sing, he unleashes track after track of internationalist anarchism. Lead elements shift, but every song partakes of the Eastern European breakout Gogol Bordello rocks so hard—and Gypsy-Jewish-Moorish myth London promotes so well. A MINUS


KÉKÉLÉ
Kinavana
(Stern's Africa)

The gray-haired Congolese-rumba revivalists solve their songwriting problems with an album of Cuban classics associated with "celestial" guajiro de salon god Guillermo Portabales. Not knowing the originals, I suspect I'd prefer these remakes, which have been Africanized rhythmically and linguistically and given all-new Lingala lyrics—the one I'd like to understand decries the efforts of African born-againers to ban non-Christian music. Extra flavor is provided by Franco star Madilu System, kinshasa queen Mbilia Bel, and saxophone hero Manu Dibango. One of those Congolese records that seems totally dedicated to the worship of beauty. A MINUS


JENNY LEWIS WITH THE WATSON TWINS
Rabbit Fur Coat
(Team Love)

More autobiographical, less dynamic—that is, a solo debut. Fortunately, the story outlined in the blurred title tune has the virtue of setting the record straight if you take it literally, always a chancy tack. Child actress or no, the Rilo Kiley frontperson says she grew up poor. Last time she heard (or is this just narrative compression?), her mom was living in her car and putting stuff up her nose. And though the singer-with-backup music relies on formula that won't set anyone's life straight, her melodic chops—sweet as a writer, supple as a singer—put the songs across. Dramatic and literary chops also help. A MINUS


LIVING THINGS
Ahead of the Lions
(Jive/Zomba)

Sooner than I figured, given their anger management problems, a U.S. rejigger of the politically explosive Black Skies in Broad Daylight, which DreamWorks sat on nervously in explosive 2004. The new "Bom Bom Bom" is the pick of the seven songs involved in the substitution game played to sell mad fans the same record twice. But the deleted "Standard Oil Trust" is more than a good title. Sane fans will just have to do without. A MINUS


THE MIGHTY SPARROW
First Flight
(Smithsonian Folkways)

The writing here rarely approaches the finished wit of the Ice anthologies, and just because Volume One is still available, don't assume it always will be. But consider that all this material dates to before he was 25. Most of the songs—recounting news stories, local happenings, life in the yard—are homely moments of social music, the sole love song a Christmas postcard to a spouse back home. But the homeliness isn't just charming. Singing about Bermuda shorts, a peeping Tom, Laika the satellite dog, or the Eric Williams government, Sparrow embodies a musical culture unlike any that's existed in the U.S., even in the South. It's like a griot society too irreverent for praise songs, with an admixture of pseudo-Brit sophistication that would suggest Anglo-India if it wasn't so earthy. And the studio bands definitely have some jam, as in the unkempt fanfare to the opening "No, Doctor, No" or the brief sax solo on "Gun Slingers" or the chorus crooning the title refrain to my favorite, "Harry in the Piggery." A MINUS


RHETT MILLER
The Believer
(Verve Forecast)

Miller betrays not a hint of hesitation on his second solo album. He thinks he belongs up there in front of that expert new band, singing or shouting whatever banality, profundity, or turn of phrase he's written down, and his level of enthusiasm combined with his level of craft will convince anyone who still likes, you know, songs. "Blame it on the moonlight/Blame it on plate tectonics"—either one is fine with him. But if you insist on knowing exactly what this believer believes in, it's both. A MINUS


PATTI SMITH
Horses/Horses
(Columbia/Legacy)

A live version of a revered studio album is de trop. Packaging the two together, so that anyone likely to be interested has to buy a remastered original, is wretched—what Ralph Nader was put on earth to prevent, as both he and Smith tragically forgot. However. The live version is different and in no way worse. It's bigger and fuller yet not more pretentious—more passionate, maybe. Obviously but crucially, it's also older—she's Johnny's mother, consumed by empathy rather than ecstasy. In short, Horses is now a piece of repertoire, subject to two competing interpretations. I'm glad I own both. B PLUS

1
 
2
 
All
 
Next Page »
 
My Voice Nation Help
0 comments
 
New York Concert Tickets

Concert Calendar

  • October
  • Thu
    23
  • Fri
    24
  • Sat
    25
  • Sun
    26
  • Mon
    27
  • Tue
    28
  • Wed
    29
Loading...