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Boston Phoenix CD Reviews
MARCH 2, 1998:
*** Tommy Keene
ISOLATION PARTY
(Matador)
If consummate power-pop
craftsman Tommy Keene were a professional student instead of a musician,
Isolation Party would be a PhD dissertation. His stint in DC new-wavers
Razz (with bassist now turned producer Ted Nicely) was his undergraduate fun. A
subsequent solo career (with releases on obscure North Carolina indie Dolphin
and Geffen in the mid to late '80s) found him working toward a master's degree,
which he took his time delivering to committee on 1996's brilliant Ten Years
After.
Now, with Isolation Party, Keene refines his pop theses, striking an
intelligent balance between the buzzing riffs and rhythms of Ten Years
After and the gorgeous buoyancy of early favorites like "Places That Are
Gone." He takes on Mission of Burma's "Einstein's Day," flirting with indie
nostalgia, then follows it with a song ("Battle Lines") that refers to 1982 in
its lyrics. When he declares, "The war goes on . . . " he
could be talking about his own career. But like real academics who struggle in
today's cruel job market, or other professorial popsters (the dBs' Chris Stamey
and Peter Holsapple, Let's Active's Mitch Easter, Game Theory/Loud Family's
Scott Miller) who keep turning out great music without commercial recognition,
Keene seems prepared to stick around.
-- Mark Woodlief
*** The Radio Kings
MONEY ROAD
(Bullseye Blues)
Boston's Radio Kings
have reinvented themselves as a roots-rock outfit. That might appear an odd
choice given that their career as a national touring and recording blues band
is well under way. But it's a good artistic move. To me, they seemed merely
adequate when they recycled blues, with a surfeit of soul. By playing hard and
tough on Money Road they've avoided making another mediocre album and
come up with perhaps the best revivalist rock since the Blasters (whose Dave
Alvin penned this CD's liner notes) busted up.
Sure, there are shuffles and slow blues here, but they're delivered with a new
attitude. Brian Templeton's hard-edged voice bites into these impressively
written songs with total commitment. Michael Dinallo's guitars work like
hip-pocket razors, slashing vibrato-laden licks into tunes like "Money in Her
Pocket" or drawing blood with the emotionally knotted solo he carves into "My
Day of Reckoning (Has Finally Come)." In that song, the Radio Kings may have
found their first truly great signature number. Templeton's vocals sound
haunted and honest, trapped in a world of trouble. It's the kind of edgy,
believable performance the band couldn't quite muster on disc in the past. And
it's proof they've found their calling.
-- Ted Drozdowski
*** Mike Ireland & Holler
LEARNING TO LIVE
(Sub Pop)
Sub Pop may be best known as the indie responsible for grunge, but with Mike
Ireland & Holler's debut the Seattle label puts its feet down in rootsier
terrain. Ireland and his Kansas City-based backing trio romp, stomp, croon,
and, well, holler their way through country with a two-step twist. Theirs is a
pop/honky-tonk hybrid accented by string-sweetened countrypolitan melodies.
Viola, cello, and violin swell around the pained weeper "Worst of All" and
underpin the drama of Ireland's aching tenor on the opening number, "House of
Secrets." Pared down to a guitar/bass/drums foursome, the band still hold their
own on the pessimistic but uptempo "Headed for a Fall," which is energized by
twangy guitar riffs and swinging roadhouse rhythms.
-- Phillip Zonkel
*1/2 GodheadSilo
SHARE THE FANTASY
(Sub Pop)
GodheadSilo are the
loudest duo in rock: one bassist, one drummer, and, as they say, volume,
volume, volume, almost all at bowel-shaking frequencies. On this album, their
fourth, they've gone metal, or as metal as you can get without guitar. Getting
heavy lets GodheadSilo show off what they can do -- their twitching, low-end
riffing is impressively massive, and the harder they can hit, the better. But
this also points up the band's chief weakness: an over-reliance on ironically
distancing allusions toward other music. Share the Fantasy keeps
underlining its detachment from its sources -- from the fake black-metal
graphics of the cover to the silly between-song samples to the new-wave synth
near the end of "Goin' Commando" to, most egregiously, a rocked-up but
basically faithful cover of "In the Air Tonight" (yes, that one).
There's no way to reclaim the song from its kitsch context. But it's also the
best-written song on the album. Although GhS's own compositions get lots of
room to rock, they aren't that interesting on their own: the album is big on
style and empty at its center.
-- Douglas Wolk
*** Fred Hersch
THELONIOUS: FRED HERSCH PLAYS MONK
(Nonesuch)
Another Monk tribute? Leave it to pianist Fred Hersch to breath some
life into a tired concept. Hersch understands the architecture of Monk's tunes:
many of this album's dozen selections offer ingenious variations and
paraphrases. But he's also different enough from Monk to come at the material
from unique angles -- Monk ambushed by lyricism.
The attraction lies in hearing the many subtle and surprising ways Hersch
accommodates Monk's conception of the piano with his own. There are Monkish
angles protruding from the softer ripples of a meditation on "Crepuscule with
Nellie." Hersch builds his solo on "Think of One" by playfully repositioning
the spaces in the melody while his characteristic voicings and wider dynamic
range flesh out the tune without changing its essential character. He
embellishes "Evidence" with sly riffs that peek out between the interstices of
Monk's tune. And on the brilliant "Five Views of Misterioso," one of the most
skeletal of Monk's compositions, he coaxes shades of meaning from a few notes
by simple variations in touch, dynamics, and tempo. It's an insightful,
economical performance worthy of the composer himself.
-- Ed Hazell
***
FATAL MAMBO
(Tinder)
The eight members of Fatal Mambo, a band from
Montpellier in France's Occitan South, call their salsa-based dance sauce
"salsaioli" -- salsa, yes, but blended with aioli, the
garlic-and-olive-oil mayonnaise featured on Mediterranean fish menus from
Barcelona to Bordighera. The aioli part of their music is to sing in
French. In their music, however they cling much more closely to the delicate
triplets and piano-and-horn arrangements of traditional salsa than the Gipsy
Kings, say, do to the formats of Gypsy rumba. That they need not do so is
proved by the Parisian love-comedy "Tu le sais" (with a surprise Arabic
tarab beat break!) and by "Salsaioli" itself, a mix of rock guitar,
triplet beats, and hard-knock bass lines that plays all the mischief it can
with salsa tradition. In Mediterranean music, the more culture clash and
mischief there is, the better.
-- Michael Freedberg
** Chris Mills
EVERY NIGHT FIGHT FOR YOUR LIFE
(Sugar Free)
Set martyrdom to music and it's been known to pay the rent. If Chris Mills has his
druthers, you'll come away from this disc thinking he learned that the hard
way. Aches and pains are the take-home message he packs into Every
Night, his quivering sophomore follow-up to (yes, really) Nobody's
Favorite. Subtle the man is not. Mills laces his Uncle Tupelo-esque tracks
with Gen-anXiety and pours on the echoey reverb -- you can practically see the
girls wringing their hands in the first row. Yet his voice is just gravelly
enough to be interesting: it sounds best on the disc's more uptempo tracks and
when Edith Frost (Drag City) joins him to lay down the lovely and
straightforward duet "Sawtooth." Too bad the track collapses into a pathetic
"chopsticks" ending picked out on the piano. Mills pulls off lines like "I've
got a fresh young mouth/Just wish that I could shut it," with charming aplomb.
That song, "Fresh Young Mouth," makes sense on both counts: if he could only
curtail his tendency to wallow in self-pity, he might have better luck singing
for his supper.
-- Katherine Brown
*** Beausoleil
ARC DE TRIOMPHE TWO STEP
(Hemisphere/Metro Blue)
The
dreamy French-Caribbean tones of Beausoleil's recent L'Amour ou la Folie
are a far cry from the youthful rocking exuberance of this 1976 CD, the
group's Paris-recorded debut, which has now become available over here.
Rollicking out of southwestern Louisiana's murky bayou country, Beausoleil have
grown to become cultural ambassadors for French-Americans. But even early on
they showed impressive finesse for a group of five teenage and twentysomething
hippies digging into their vibrant ancestral music with assertive accordion,
zipping fiddle, and high-pitched vocals. Cajun music has always transcended
language barriers -- here the country-pop standard "Just Because" becomes a
whirling two-step. "CIA" sounds eerily ancient. Although fiddling leader
Michael Doucet is the only member of the current group who was around for
Arc de Triomphe Two Step, Beausoleil's goal hasn't changed a bit: solid
historicism entwined with bon temps rouler.
-- Bruce Sylvester
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