BoDeans : Still

My spooked donkey lumbers to the Bo Deans’ Still. I scolded HST’s translucent image for leading me to a band that most of us with a radio heard too much from in 1996. “Closer to Free” pounded the airwaves nonstop after Party of Five became a cult hit. Worse yet, they are from the Milwaukee area and local waves would not let up. At work, it replayed more often than those damned looped Blockbuster in-store ads. Prognosis is negative on the potential enjoyment if Still remotely recalls 1996.

[After this fruitless rant, I encountered a discarded bumper sticker…

SAVE THE ENVIRONMENT

SHARE A TOOTHPICK

… this image shifted my rotten negativity to giddiness and allowed me to approach the new CD with deserved responsiveness.]

The BoDeans have been around forever – nearly three decades, Kurt Neumann and Sammy Llanas have contributed eight albums and thousands of gigs. With the band’s sonic wheelhouse and audience are uber-defined, Still’s formula plays up reputation and their roots-pop signature.

Non-offensive in every way, tracks spill with consistent quality and expected musical trademark. Publicity and awareness are urgent. Trolling their forums, you can sense the need for an aggressive marketing campaign – their audience has aged with them; the boost from “Closer to Free” slowly thinned and are left with a core of aged fans that are getting increasingly less likely to buy new music.

The jamboree treatments and Midwestern vibe that defined their early days are lost. Those experiments only rewarded when they worked and sometimes killed the ebb and flow of your appreciation. Neumann and Llanas realize their charge – it is to create a consistently enjoyable CD.

Still claims the tightness and likeability honed with past commercial success. You can hear similarities to a lot of neo- (albeit less plastic) Bon Jovi. 12 tracks boast tight mid-tempo roots-pop jangles – the best example is “Round Here Somewhere”. T-Bone Burnett’s production is darn near immaculate; outside of the laughable pseudo blues cut “Lucille”, the release is a consistent pleaser that deserves to reclaim its past audience and maybe even some Bon Jovi fans. [1]

Years have been kind to the BoDeans’ legend. Instead of crafting an embarrassing fusion of their sound and modern pop, the attribute combination of adroitness and obsessiveness reap a master class earworm gem.

__________________________________________

[1] Hunter chided me for my glibness and exposing the dangerous side of my freak. “You pig-faced rat bastard. Stop babbling and get to the point – Bon Jovi’s fans would never steer clear of candy lane. Tell them that anyone that gives this record a chance is helpless to resist another listen.”

Radium88 : Artificial Life

Radium88’s Artificial Life was recently delivered. Opening up the CD containing packet, I read their description; it boasted “the lo-tek sound of tomorrow and the kitschmongers of doom”. Aimless insane energy progressed as the words continued. Realizing that a little psychosis was needed in an otherwise dull day, Artificial Life was spun.

Blame England! Radium88 is the hybrid of the Cocteau Twins, random yet seamlessly sequenced spaced-out electronica (within song) and Einar Orn. The eclectic mix of celestial sonic steam, anarchic structures and unique arrangements promote an engaging ambience.

Invitingly melancholic, a gaping odyssey formed by programming with Jema’s ethereal vocals is transmitted with the initial two tracks. Hooks are spare, but unnecessary due to dense and ever-present melody. Diversification begins with “Watch the Skies”. Tim Thwaites performs his foil with his cheese-filled and odd rap. Jema plays along and each harmonize during the chorus.Each song thereafter, focused on “mixing it up” to further titillate the listener.

Even more impressive tracks on Artificial Life are “Phat Wah”, “Disenchanted” and “White Noise”. “Phat Wah” is a twin brother to “Watch The Skies”. Spasmodic vocals, superb jittery lyrics and its genre mocking twists leaps over its above-written relative. J. Edgar Hoover provided self-mocking assistance, while Jema chanted intermittently regarding disenchantment (in reference to J. Edgar musings) supported with a consistent drippy dub track. Inventive and jaded irony were clashed as “White Noise” effectively exercised of a witty protest. Using an extraordinarily appropriate sample (and splicing) of a white supremacist’s blathering regarding his views on parenting and “Negro music”, sparring hip-hop pulsations stimulated a signature Radium88 underlay.

ApeQuake’s only suggestion is to propose a resequencing of the Artificial Life. After several listens, they develop pleasurably. However, some new listeners may lack the patience to swim through the filler material which build toward the increasingly stronger pieces.

Don’t let that relatively minor jab deflect your interests in Radium88. Their charm, multi-layered production and attention to artful songcraft are altogether a flourishing experiment.

Brandon Patton : Should Confusion

Suffering through a nomadic existence of barely treading a music career, Brandon persists when others would have pleaded his/her parents for a cozy return. Patton outlasted a solo effort (1997) and his band (Three Against Four). Having such an extended career with modest results must force angry rhetorical questions, but love, confidence and good ol’ fashioned sticktoitiveness charged Should Confusion.

“Counting the Paces” leads the CD with a lush bittersweet ballad strung with acoustics, soul-emptying harmonies and a tasteful use of the synth bass — yes, reminiscent of Beck’s Sea Change except Brandon has natural sonance of Ed Roland (Collective Soul). Ecstatic, I could not envision a greater piece than “Counting the Paces”. But if you already viewed the track highlights and/or the grade, the critiquing direction should not be in question.

Guerilla bushwhacks cleverly attack. My first hair-raising moment occurred when the casually boppity “What’s the Worst That Could Happen?” instantaneously erupted into a grunge-structured onslaught within in and out of its chorus. Crashing the middle of the recording are the exuberantly irreverent cuts, “Did That All Before” and “Auspicious Moment”. Both altered the perceived tone so much that it felt like I was manipulated by the previous songs.

During the second half, Should Confusion boomeranged; it cunningly (and quietly) ended with the falsetto-laden valentine, “Someday When Were Old”. Even more choice than Brandon’s illusionary sonics and unorthodox structures are his transcendent lyrics. They share identifiable aspects of Bob Dylan’s adroitness and Steven Malkmus’ silly quirkiness to form the most memorable lines heard by any artist reviewed in SpunoutCentral’s Underground Archive section. In fact, this is my new favorite CD.

Click over to Brandon’s site and sample Should Confusion. Many overlooked and superb American artists strike once they focus on Europe — do not let ignorance provoke Brandon Patton to be another.

Geoff Westen : Vidiots Tune In!!

Geoff Westen musical approach marks an era that recalls largely horrific music (and my pre-teen awkwardness). 1985-1987 are years that producers went hella crazy and over-produced twice-baked acts –the remnants of formerly awesome synth-pop / new wave pioneers like Echo & the Bunnymen, Oingo Boingo, the Cars and Talking Heads went flailing into the purgatory’s crotch. Geoff sticks his arm in and pulls out functional bits from the period to mash into Vidiots Tune In!! 

The artist’s approach is pure. His obsessiveness guides his path. Every word, note and instrumental stab rumbles with vision and execution envisioned when I first played my dual tape deck. The production is masterful; its sheer absurdity perfectly balance — particularly on “Better Get Started”, “Angry Young Man” and “She’s So Young”.

Vidiots Tune In!! proves an era’s aural trash is redeemable as a glistening neon-tinged treasure.

Before I passed this through to the publishing queue, I just had to gain more insight into the GW’s musical inspirations for the recording. Fortunately, he responded with the following …

I guess there must be something to the fact that back when – taking good drugs went hand in hand with listening to great music. It’s not like I listen to music from the 80′s anymore – far from it. But something from that long ago timeframe must have stuck to my musical genes so that today when I turn on the “create music” button – out it comes. I don’t/can’t control it.

I’ve been told that nobody is doing NEW music from the years you reference, and that I am recreating this period with pure excellence. My hat’s off to those critics of course. The idea that I have purposely targeted 1985 – 1987 is far from reality. It’s beyond me to be able to tell you what the diff might be between 81-83 pop music and 85-87 pop music. This would be your area of expertise, so I’ll leave that up to you to define.

The last thing I want to do is try and emulate anything. This is not premeditated music. It is actually very spontaneous. You’ll just have to take my word for it that what comes out of me musically is on the natch – with nothing more added than a few **funny cigarettes**.

(**See “Better Get Started” from the Vidiots – Tune In!! CD)

It was back in 1987, I believe, that the Honky Tonk Man claimed he never heard of Elvis Presley. Just kidding of course, but I could certainly hear why anything that subconsciously infects needs purging. Geoff demonstrates that it can be done with fantastic flair.

Amun Ra : Bloom

Bloom accosted one unit of Ani Difranco’s unzipped artistic mojo, an equal amount of Steely Dan’s jazzability and their capability of escaping customary time thresholds by creating six-minute plus tracks that feel rapid and Sarah McLachlan’s ethereality, vocal abilities and her youthful passion. Amun Ra flawlessly blended each and an evolutionary hybrid bore.

Although Difranco applied jazz, hip-hop and ‘alternative’ beats into her oeuvre, they were simply exercises (often monotonous). Jazz isBloom‘s backbone. Emily fronts as an urban Sarah McLachlin; she has a like vocal tone, but credibly mixed it up with the support of the band’s juice and her inherent city-fed soulfulness. Spicing it up (without disturbing the batter), are inserted traces of trip-hop, breakbeat, dNb, hip-hop and world beat for a risky, but rewarding texture.

Commercial radio play is unlikely, since only one cut clocks in at under five and a half minutes. However, Bloom is sophisticated pop that surpasses its grand intent because Amun Ra actually forged its own identity.

If you have listened to the bland quasi-jazz pop market and decided that your senses need arousal, lustrate with Amun Ra.

Ballyrag : Where the Ocean Meets the 10

Playing along Venice Beach with people flailing quarters in the music’s general direction has made Ballyrag quite mad — they refer to it as creativity (wink). Too many ultraviolet rays, skull dents from zipping coins and many other unmentionables helped this trio mutate island music and acoustic inspired pop/rock with a potpourri of various genres into a tight and extremely savorable melodic hybrid.

What could be superlative worthy about a gaggle of practical skittlers rocking for seagulls, groping muscleheads and half-nude rollerbladers? 1st, the name-calling is uncalled for…you do not even know them! Raif came to Venice via England via Italy. More than a capable front man, he leads with a raspy croon with an ideal textured lyrical fusion of poetic verse and wit. Bodaciously, Raif is the first rasped vocalist that I’ve heard to sound as good (if not better) when he breaks into falsetto-balladic mode (“Perfectly in My Way” and “Edge of the World”) — when it happens he sounds similar to Mick Hucknell (AKA Simply Red).Where the Ocean Meets the 10 may not have been much more than an okay record if it were not for the supreme contributions of the other bandmates.

Based on Dan’s multi-instrumental abilities, my belief is that he is the sound wizard. His arrangements are timeless, original, head-bob worthy and scenic. Paul’s consistently rhythmic drum work (and solid cd photography) helped enable Ballyrag sonic journeys. As a collective, they immaculately produced Where the Ocean Meets the 10. Make room for an innovative assortment of summery and fantastically twisted commercial grooves.

Bamboo Shoots : Research and Development

Why do indie acts temper their individuality and / or blatantly tribute their sound to another? I review about one CD of every five received largely because of this recording epidemic. Artists need to learn the record companies and indie music fans are looking for that rarely approachable ‘WOW’. Yet, recorders want to conform to sounds that they lack the financial means and engineering ability to (re)create. Itis not going to happen and ‘at best’ you will be confined to your local scene. If you seek monetary reward create a signature and cash in when a monster producer wants it to conform to the mainstream pulse.

Bamboo Shoots is a quintet featuring two assimilated Indian Americans [Avir Mitraand & Kari Sukhia (not to be confused with the Native Americans)]. Together, they attempt to hybrid the sounds of Indian percussion (not the sitar), mainstream pop, mild hip-hop and rock.

The five tracks [plus an intro (track 2 ?!?) and a remix] of the Research and Development EP render as a reasonably well produced demo. Bamboo Shoot’s sound varies from song to song. Each is aimed directly for airplay and pulse multi-directional hooks. No consistent sound or musical template is pursued, but is not disorientating because Bamboo Shoots is convincingly capable as a skilled pop chameleon. My main production gripe are that the recording levels sound a little bit off with the otherwise rich “The World is Beautiful”.

Research and Development EP jabs at my opening rant because it together, theoutfit are talented and flexible performers. Avir is a quality vocalist / guitarist whose talent favorably resembles Maroon 5′s Adam Levine. The four other memberscohesively provide session quality instrumentation and dependably provide a constructive quirk (notably Shiv Puri’s eclecticly sublime percussion). Song highlights include the single ready reggae-tinged rocker “Talking to Death” and the (more recent) Third Eye Blind-ish “Bomb”.

Sometimes recordings can offer ‘rule of thumb’ exceptions. Bamboo shoots willingnessto explore / refine, musicianship and songwriting talents challenged that standard.

Benchwarmer : Benchwarmer

 

Benchwarmer’s self-titled debut identified many items that I continue to enjoyfrom 1980-90′s punk-influenced “indie rock”. The singing is technically mediocre, but charismatic and fitting for its support. Their guitar riffs are simple, but mesmerizing and electric. Even the use of lackluster recording quality created old school credibility, swagger and a hazy mystique.

Great songwriting guided this effort. Although the lyrics are largely indecipherable, their inflections and attitude play cocky and ‘drunken’ instrumention relayed its vitality and intensity. Great elementary riffs and hooks cascaded “Catonic” and “8-Bit Apocalypse” — actually they do throughout the recording. Hell, I would be lying if I did not indicate that listening to Benchwarmer was not akin to popping in the Pixies’Surfer Rosa for the 1st time. Together, Jay, Marksb and Ash use their mojo that trigger these cuts intoyour longterm memory.

With that written, it certainly has a retro appeal. It’s so ‘no nonsense’ and unapologetic that it may feel almost too familiar. My argument is that this form of rock is timeless — Benchwarmer actually romped as if they are mused by their inspirations, rather than sound hijackers.

With a little luck, enhanced production and decent marketing, Benchwarmer has a legitimate shot at being lauded as the next rock saviors.

Leah Callahan : Even Sleepers

Even Sleepers can be pigeonholed as authentically sounding Goth music. Goth-rock and Goth-metal are too supremely nouveaux to reflect anything other than obviously faux and even silly forms of the inspired genre. Leah Callahan’s initial solo outing reflects the naked sounds of the distant past — it is as if a hidden ‘turn of the 20th century’ recording was just found in a buried trunk and remastered on CD. Even Sleepers reeks of a long forgotten secret society.

Inherently eerie, the eclectically foreign sparseness is hair-raising. Leah’s gypsy environment is cast with varying Latin and Turkish inspired strings, tinny percussion and intentional peripheral clutter. Somber jazzy-folk vocals are spun in an exotically foreign voice. Shaun Wolf Wortis’ production and recording quality were seamless — its instrument, vocal separations and recording levels are both clean and somehow appropriate.

If a friend came to your residence (assuming that you are labeled as remotely ‘normal’) while listening to Leah’s contribution, he or she may question your sanity. Even Sleepers is off-kilter and surreal alternative pop. “Valentine” is a sip of Turkey and David Bowie’s “Alabama”, while “The Sadness I Admire” et “Love Something” croon salaciously and “Shocking Pink” is an extreme body snatching sing-songy cut. Although the listed related bands represent a comparison to Leah, none closely resemble her lyrical darkness, untapped style, antique framing and cabaret-torched Elizabeth Shue appearance.

Does Norah Jones bore you? Do you need a little ungodly creeping ghastliness to lurk from your speakers? If so, Leah Callahan’s conceptual art will entrance you.

Dolour: New Old Friends

Think Seattle. It’s a moist eerie point. Disparate non-relationships like grunge Real World’s “the slap heard around the world” and maniacal corporations. Rules do not apply to that city Seattle is a sovereignty. Fitting of such of an entity is Dolour.

This motley collection of musical mongers relate sound relative to the beams of sunlight leaking forcefully through dirty lenses.Dolour remind me of the Beach Boys filtered with Apples and Stereo while spewing intelligent, but dark and jaded lyrics — that dichotomy draws and ultimately snag listeners like me.

New Old Friends’ sonic template boasts crystalline pop. Each composition is perfectly produced formainstream radio. New Old Friends arranges layers of vocals and upbeatinstrumentation (without question inspired from Pet Sounds and other quasi-psychedelic ’60′s groups) chime with the lead singer’s (Shane Tutmarc) pleasing vocal variation. The productions counters ‘ancient pop’ using enough programming nodsand style to meet the auditory lines of contemporary music fans.

There are really no weak pieces. New Old Friends sequencing devours anynotion of muck and relates even better together than in bite-sized portions.

When you peel layers of a record … empty good-time tracks crust with time. Dolour completely understands. Unlike many bands, I would wager that Dolour forms songs around the words. Listening Shane’s novel lyrical spins make New Old Friends a massive record only hushed by its isolation from the industry’s marketing machines.

Go out and pick up Dolour’s CD for your anti-Christmas. It’ll be our little secret.