Jason Blum & the Flexible Sensuals
(Atomic Anodyne)
Found: the missing link between Tom Waits and Beck? Not quite, but neither is Jason Blum your typical talk of the Townes singer-songwriter. Lyrically, Blum displays talent typical of an above-average s-sw, but it’s definitely in the art of arrangement that he makes his mark, utilizing the everything-old-is-new-again ethic to great success. Standup bass and beatbox? Never heard that combo on a Jimmie Dale Gilmore album. Probably didn’t want to, either, but that’s exactly what makes Blum a different cup of meat; one minute he’s doing Knopfler-era Dylan, and the next he’s flipped to the “lo-fi” section of the music history books. And it all coheres. The worst thing about this eight-song, self-titled CD is that, at 24 minutes, it’s too short. Given his latent leanings toward more modern freeform funkiness (especially as heard on the Zenyatta Mondatta pseudo-reggae of his finale, “Dimentsion Dub”), it would be nice to hear Blum take a little more time on some of this material and give himself a chance to relax into a groove.
This article appears in November 24 • 2000.