Record Reviews
Fri., Oct. 18, 1996
WEBB WILDER
Acres of Suede (Watermelon)
Webb Wilder has always walked a narrow wire between rockabilly revivalist and
goofball parodist. He often comes off like one of those Fifties rock & roll
novelty acts, especially when he utilizes his lower vocal range. On
Acres of Suede though, he manages to pop off a good share of
jokes without damaging the integrity of his catchy, twangy tunes, wisely
resigning most of the chuckles to the intros of songs like "Flat Out Get It"
and the heavy-metal-with-Theremin "Scattered, Smothered and Covered" (how he
manages to pull this one off still mystifies me). Special attraction: "Loud
Music" becomes the "David Grissom show" with electrifying results when Wilder
pretty much turns the whole song over to its author.
(3.0 stars) -- Ken Lieck
STEEPLEJACK
Kitchen Radio (Dejadisc)
I've always been more than partial to Minneapolis bands; used to think it was
just coincidence. After listening to Steeplejack, I now see it was for a
reason. Think about it. We write "Spinning Round the Sun," they write "Ice Cold
Ice." With music from the Minne-apple, you get winter vicariously. On
Kitchen Radio, the No Depression guitars sound like a month's worth of
cloud cover -- "Valentie (Sober All Day)" -- as well as piles of dingy urban
snow and sludge in the words, "Five Feet Nine and Rising." Even the bar-room
bluegrass with no sense of direction reeks of a whiskey drunk induced by a 3pm
sunset, "Caroline." Everything ends up sounding bittersweet when life is
chilled below 32 degrees for six months out of every year. It's not depressing,
it's vital. Seasons have an aligning effect; and if you aren't quite willing to
sacrifice 50 degrees and sunshine on Christmas day then you gotta pick up
records like Kitchen Radio every so often just to keep things
calibrated. (Steeplejack plays Flipnotics, Wednesday, October 23.)
(3.0 stars) -- Michael Bertin
ALASTAIR GALBRAITH
Morse and Gaudylight (Trance Syndicate/Emperor Jones)
In yet another installment of the Freaky Singer-Songwriters From New Zealand
series, Alastair Galbraith re-releases his previously vinyl-only Gaudylight
(1991) and Morse (1992) together on a 23-song disc. Not just in the
vein of, but actually living vicariously through Syd Barrett, Galbraith
runs madcap laps around the late Sixties with a collection of haunting and
demented kiwi four-track ragas. Detuned, layered guitars and funny noises
define these records, which are as creepy as they are beautiful, paying homage
to the ghostly aesthetic of Cale and Eno, and the well-documented styles of the
Pan-Oceanic Brotherhood of Songsmiths whose charter members include Richard
Davies, Peter Jefferies, Alec Bathgate, and Chris Knox. Though these two blasts
from the near-past are well-conceived and thankfully saved from the discount
vinyl bins and personal collections of Wellington and Auckland, it's nearly
impossible to get past Barrett's so-obvious influence and allow these
recordings to stand untainted by Syd-imentality.
(3.5 stars) -- Taylor Holland
N.O.T.A.
Give 'Em Enough Dope (Unclean)
Seemingly immune to passing time and changing trends, Tulsa's N.O.T.A. cranks
out early-Eighties no-future hardcore with as much fury as the darkest hour
once demanded. After more than a decade, the band has certainly grown more
proficient, and Martin Halstead's production is evidence that they've learned
their lesson in the studio. Unlike some veterans of the Schaefer tour circuit
whose acts have wound down to musing about way-back-when, N.O.T.A.'s message
has remained fairly constant. They still hate hippies with a venom that can't
help but be belittled by such an easy target. On the other hand, a song like
"Hitler Was a Vegetarian" speaks volumes about where loving acceptance of
labels will get you. "You Bore Me" is a punk rock sock-hoppin' dissection of
shit you hear at parties, and "Pawn Shop" is a heartwarming revenge play that
should hold appeal to anyone who's ever been in hock. Whether Give `Em
Enough Dope's death grip on decade-old aesthetics still holds relevance is
a matter of individual choice. Fortunately for N.O.T.A., there's always a new
crop of suburban misfits out there.
(3.0 stars) -- Greg Beets
CHARLIE LOUVIN
The Longest Train (Watermelon)
As one half of the Louvin Brothers, Charlie Louvin created country music
history. One of the genre's most celebrated duos, their high, keening, two-part
mountain harmonies not only furthered a tradition laid down by acts like the
Delmore Brothers, but also helped pave the way for the likes of the Everly
Brothers. Solo since shortly before Ira's death, Charlie's first release in a
number of years finds him recreating a number of Louvin Brothers' standards
(including "When I Stop Dreaming," "In the Pines," and "Cash on the Barrelhead"
) plus some newly written material with the aid of a specially assembled
all-star cast obviously enamored of the Louvins' sound. Still, neither Barry
Tashian nor Rosie Flores nor Jim Lauderdale are Ira Louvin, and Charlie's voice
isn't ringing as clearly as it once did. That doesn't make this a bad album,
but neither does it help The Longest Train stand up against vintage
Louvins' stuff. (Charlie Louvin plays the Broken Spoke, Thursday, October
24.)
(2.0 stars) -- Tim Stegall
ELLIOTT MURPHY
Going Through Something: The Best of Elliott Murphy (Dejadisc)
You've all read reviews where you know the writer didn't listen to the
album, right? In this case, I wish I could say that I hadn't -- there's no way
for me to be objective about this disc anyhow. First off, I gave Murphy's last
album of new material a glowing review, and could hardly expect to find his
"best of" wanting. Second, the DejaDisc label seems increasingly unable to do
wrong, and has pretty much established itself in my mind as the recording
industry equivalent to the old Dell Mapback paperback series; it doesn't matter
what genre is represented on any Deja album, there's a certain level of quality
that's guaranteed to shine through. Third, this is where Ernie fucking
Brooks has been spending all those years that I wondered what had happened to
the Modern Lovers' original bassist. If Brooks wanted to stick with this guy
from 1978-91 (the years covered on the album), then Murphy can do no wrong in
my book. Since I did listen to the thing, though, I'll mention that
Going... features 16 well-written, thought-provoking tunes in the
Dylan-via-Petty vein. Okay?
(4.0 stars) -- Ken Lieck
HOME
Home X (Emperor Jones)
Home XI: Elf :: Gulf Bore Waltz (Jetset/Big Cat)
Tampa's Home have done the unthinkable and broken Led Zeppelin's long-standing
roman-numeraled-album record more than twice over. Home X, a seven-song
EP that actually has 12 tracks, eclipses 1995's stellar Home IX as the
group finds itself becoming the Queen (Mercury and May, not Elizabeth) of the
American underground. "My Passion," "Underwater," and "Pretty Little Head" do
more for my faith in the continuation of original American rock than anything
since the Pixies' Surfer Rosa nearly 10 years ago. On the heels of X
comes (predictably) Home XI, their catchiest and most digestible
release to date. Weaving strands of Gary Numan, Flaming Lips, Guided by Voices,
and Van Halen could be a disastrous, yet respectfully valiant effort, but Home
manages with a barrage of eclectic pop, some of which the Grifters' Dave Shouse
helped record. Which all but explains why Home suddenly sound somewhat similar
to the Grifters, only ridiculously better. What makes Home remarkable as a
project is that there's no way you've ever heard anything like it in your life
-- and it's still pop rock music.
(Both) (4.0 stars) -- Taylor Holland
MOUNTAIN GOATS
Nine Black Poppies (Emperor Jones)
The Mountain Goats play hard-strumming accoustic folk of the studded
leather jacket variety. It's the kind of music that would make an excellent,
non-partisan counterweight to Roger Manning. This California duo plow through a
bunch of nature-happy allegorical tunes about fleeting romance and failed
relationships that still manage to retain a shread of hopefulness despite a
generally dour narrative outlook. Best among this lot is the heart-tugging
"Stars Fell on Alabama." The best song overall, however, is "Cubs in Five,"
which compares the plight of a staunch fan of losing teams to a quixotic lover
trying to get back home; "And the Chicago Cubs will beat every team in the
league/And the Tampa Bay Bucs will make it all the way through January/And I
will love you again" somehow resonates a bit more amid the emotive, transistor
radio production than Hootie's plaintive "Dolphins make me cry" quip.
Unfortunately, Nine Black Poppies also bores at least as much as it
enthralls due to one-dimensional, half-baked songwriting. It's a hit-or-miss
listening experience that really could've used another 10 or 15 minutes in the
creative kiln.
(2.5 stars) -- Greg Beets
