Cat Power

Jukebox
(Matador)

The woman that Christina Ricci wanted to be in the accidental comedy “Black Snake Moan,” Catherine Power has lately found new strength in her Southern roots. Thankfully, her father must be Dan Penn or Steve Cropper, and her brother isn’t Kid Rock.
Once perceived as an indie rock/folk bird, time has revealed Chan Marshall (Cat Power’s lone constant) to have more in common spiritually, if less so sonically, with Mary J. Blige.

While cover albums are usually horrible, and no one should ever do them, ever, Marshall is one who should do more. On this, her second covers album, she proves again able to pump blues, jazz and soul into moribund songs like “New York, New York” (trust me), dares and wins taking on Janis and Joni, and, OK, like everyone else, attempts to jump genders and become Bob Dylan — by singing his song, singing a new song about him and singing everyone else’s songs kinda like him.

c. 2008 LEO Weekly

King's Daughters and Sons bio

From the first note heard in August 2004, I was in love with the music that came from the barrels of Joe Manning. A city boy who can easily fool tourists into seeing him as a rustic, Manning is both a true writer and a vocal marvel. What's amazing about King's Daughters & Sons, though, is how Manning here has surrounded himself with the very best other musical marvels in the region - all of whom have been utilized in other ways, and one of whom has never had a chance to truly shine before, who emerges as a star against the odds, like Leif Garrett in a '70's TV movie...

There's the rhythm section - bassist Todd Cook and drummer Kyle Crabtree. Both are thunderous yet calm, stable yet always moving forward. Both began in heavy rock but few can play more subtly; it is this versatility that they call on here, with Shipping News and with Shannon Wright.

Keyboardist and vocalist Rachel Grimes sings like she looks - like a porcelain, Victorian-era queen that Cate Blanchett should get an Academy award for playing. With the Rachel's band, she has seen the world and she has absorbed it. Mike Heineman is the aforementioned rising star, with an angelic voice that needs to be heard by every mother and father and their housebroken pet. I even heard that Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan himself is coming back to life just to hear Mike sing - he's just that good. People used to talk about the harmonies of Crosby, Stills & Nash - imagine how good that was supposed to be, multiply that by 18, cut out the cheese and what you've got is what happens when Rachel, Mike and Joe sing together.

If this isn't what God and Rodney Dangerfield are listening to together up in Heaven, then I say, never mind, I'll go to Hell instead.

The Teeth

In Minutes
(Noise Pollution)

In the 1960s, the term “garage band” referred to a gaggle of young men, often American and/or Caucasian, attempting to play that one fairly generic Rock Band sound common in the days when the Beatles were popular but not yet creative. (Sorry, Ferris Bueller, they didn’t write all those blues songs).
Perhaps the phenomenon was most popular in the Midwest, because, gosh golly, there’s just more of them (insert birth control joke here). But where would we be without those mutant strains — exemplified in this example by the Stooges, MC5, Styrenes, Electric Eels, Pagans and Pere Ubu? You know, the guys in high school who were freaks, not geeks.

You’ll feel like they’re smoking in your boys’ room again while injecting The Teeth's In Minutes, a post-proto-blast of uncomplicated rock ’n’ roll made by guys who don’t sound like they know, yet, what it feels like when you realize your dreams will never come true.

c. 2008 LEO Weekly

Foxhole

Push/Pull
(Burnt Toast Vinyl)

As a teen trying to become more cultured, I went to a Wynton Marsalis concert. I’d heard that adults with taste and brains listened to jazz music. Later I would realize that not all jazz is the same, and that Wynton Marsalis is not really much like John Coltrane. I was acting like an adult, but not the type of adult I wanted to be.
At the concert, Marsalis introduced a piece, “This one’s about education.” At that point, I had no choice but to laugh. How could instrumental music be “about” something? Now, I’m twice as old as I was then, and I still don’t understand.

Four of the five pieces here are inspired by the death of a friend. The fifth piece was inspired by the death of Wesley Willis, a man of color who made a lot of well-off white kids laugh because he was mentally ill. Oh, and their music is also inspired by their, uh, religious beliefs. (If you know what I mean).

c. 2008 LEO Weekly

Best-Ofs: LEO critics tout their Top 5

1) Wax Fang "La La Land" (Don't Panic) — The exciting disc by the exciting band is now available for everyone to discover. I’m talking to you, scouts at Sub Pop or Merge or whomever else can help this trio spread their sound around the world. (We still owe the world a giant apology for Days of the New, anyway.)

2) Radiohead "In Rainbows" (Radiohead) — For the first time in 10 years, they play to their strengths — a bunch of really good songs, played extremely well.

3) "You’re Gonna Miss Me: A Film About Roky Erickson" (Palm Pictures) — I don’t know why Daniel Johnston gets more lip service from the kids today (Is Kurt Cobain’s influence really still felt? Or is it Bright Eyes now?). Roky was and still is the much more musical, fascinating Texan crazy freak. You don’t love him yet? Watch this inspiring, bewildering story unfold.

4) Battles "Mirrored" (Warp) — Older and younger dudes joining forces, melding heavy rock and weird electronics. It shouldn’t work but it does, uniting trendy girls who just wanna have fun and awkward guys with no social skills who want the girls to appreciate how smart they are, god damn it.

5) Marissa Nadler "Songs III: Bird on the Water" (Kemado) — Suddenly elvish girls who do the opposite of rock are everywhere, and most have already been sent back to their local Ren Fair. Marissa Nadler pulls off sounding ancient and modern simultaneously, can compose songs that offer lovely substance over hip attitude, and can even cover a Leonard Cohen song without embarrassing herself.


C. 2007 LEO Weekly

Merle Haggard

The Bluegrass Sessions
(McCoury)

Plenty today pay lip service to Johnny & Hank and ask, “Why can’t nobody do it like they used to?” Yet the same people can’t be bothered to keep up with the likes of Merle Haggard, unless he’s being promoted by a punk rock label.
Perhaps Hag himself is partly to blame: He releases a new one annually, like Neil Young or Woody Allen, though he’s more consistent. He might not reach as high, but you can be sure that he’ll never collaborate with Madonna or go crazy with robots.

Here, he revisits old songs, sings some new ones, and finds himself unable to stay within the strict parameters of bluegrass regulations, in the best way.
Willie Nelson might have proven to be more versatile (ever hear his reggae disc?), but Haggard keeps returning as the most emotionally and instinctually awake songwriter left amongst what used to be called country music.

c. 2007 LEO Weekly

Tiny Vipers

Hands Across the Void
(Sub Pop)

Sub Pop’s website helpfully describes this album by Seattle-based singer and guitarist Jesy Fortino as Tiny Vipers as “acoustic/goth.”
Fortino is a guitarist seemingly more inspired by the ambient textures of John Fahey and British psych influences that have inspired fellow “goths” Current 93, than by anyone else more interested in catchy pop hooks.

Without any other musicians around, there is a constant sparseness to the songs on Void that can often leave one wanting more. Perhaps, for example, a more pleasing voice to help make the crazy go down easier. Fortino’s voice is similar to, but not as horrifyingly atonal — sorry, “artful” — as Joanna Newsom’s. When she stumbles onto a catchy verse, in the song “Swastika,” no less, it goes away quickly.
In an 11-minute song performed by her alone (could she be a Jandek fan?), it requires more patience than usual. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, of course. Except when it is.

c. 2007 LEO Weekly

"Louisville Babylon 2"

Louisville Babylon 2
(Louisville Is for Lovers)

In high school in Florida in the 1990's, my (few) friends and I had what we thought was a secret love - the comically over-the-top, doo wop-inflected horror punk of a band from New Jersey who had broken up before they got too boring or, worse, popular. What we didn't know then, in those awkward days between the fall of Communism and the mainstreaming of the internet, was that the Misfits were a secret shared by kids everywhere.

Up in Louisville, a 1994 Misfits tribute was lovingly complied and now, 13 years later, the new generation is at it. The new versions of old favorites range from hillbilly to goth synths to preppy pop. While it's interesting to hear My Morning Jacket reduced to a too-reverential copycat, the collection peaks when Ronnie Mack and Ponty's Camper put some Kentucky on 'em, and Dave Pajo and Wax Fang slow 'em down like 30-somethings should.

C. 2007 LEO Weekly

Pissed Jeans

Hope for Men
(Sub Pop)

Overheard at a Pissed Jeans gig:
“My mom thinks that me and my boyfriend Tony are having sex, which we completely are. And when I turn 18, we’re getting married. Tony’s not the first guy I’ve been with. That was Omar, this total skank counselor I had last summer at Camp Okeechobee. I didn’t really want to screw Omar, I just wanted to do it with somebody, and he promised to buy me a 4-track. What a liar. He didn’t buy me anything, he just laughed at me. That’s why I had my friend Jessica key his car while I was screwing him the second time. What a loser.

“I need a 4-track so bad! My band, Abortion Barbie, needs to make a demo and get the fuck out of here! This town is so dead! Thank God for Spencer, my meth dealer. He thinks he’s all from the hood. He’s a douche bag, but he gets the best drugs. He wants to screw me. Gross.”

c. 2007 LEO Weekly

Tomahawk

Anonymous
(Ipecac)

If you have followed Mike Patton’s journey from late-’80s backward-baseball cap-wearing, funk-rocking frontman for the never truly understood Faith No More on to Century 21 middle-aged, experimental, underground art screamturbator, then you’ve been witness to an ever surprising, uniquely inspiring voyage of risk-taking and discovery.
Tomahawk has existed, arguably, under the beer-belly shadow cast by Patton’s other heavy music supergroup, Fantomas. The latter, under Patton’s direction, has had more unique concepts. Tomahawk, led artistically by guitar ace Duane Denison (Hank III, The Jesus Lizard), has stood out as a (relatively) more subtle prog/jam/space project.

Anonymous bills itself as a collection of early 1900s songs from Native American tribes, found while researching their culture. Representative song titles include “Ghost Dance” and “Song of Victory.”
Most vocals are predictably wordless and/or screamed, at times chanted. When the vocals are understandable, as in the suggestive “Mescal Rite 2,” they seem inauthentic as native hymns. While respectful in general, the band often brings their fast and heavy rock sledgehammer to the ceremony, which might be misunderstood by teen boy fans as mockery.

c. 2007 LEO Weekly

Bryan Ferry

Dylanesque
(Virgin)

While some folks might consider Bryan Ferry’s biggest blunder of 2007 to be his ill-stated comment about how much he admired Hitler’s influence on fashion, I prefer that to this collection of Bob Dylan songs, surprisingly not recorded for Starbucks.
Comments about Hitler’s coats might also miss the point, but at least they don’t last an hour. Ferry, long known to baby boomers as a stylish and once purposeful man, tackles some of Dylan’s less obscure songs with the same finesse that a Bahamian hotel lounge singer might while slightly buzzed on Bartles & Jaymes.

The backing band, led by the expected British never-weres likely to show up at the next Live Earth concert (Paul Carrack, Chris Spedding, Robin Trower), speeds through most of the material as if eager to finish the session by lunch time.
Finally, before Brian Eno fans get excited about his “electronics” on “If Not for You,” let me save you the trouble of continuing that feeling.

Pinback

Autumn of the Seraphs
(Touch & Go)

A still point in the rapidly shifting world, Pinback returns — officially — with its fourth studio album, Autumn of the Seraphs. Officially because singer Rob Crow has been perhaps the busiest band whore in the Western world recently, jumping from project to project like the dealers on “The Wire.” Fans worried that Crow’s extra-curricular efforts (especially a solo disc that dropped mere months ago) might take away from the quality of Pinback’s records need not worry.

The band, always a bit wispy, is a bit more muscular this time around. Rest assured, though — while the album title might suggest heavy metal (a genre that Crow has tackled recently), it’s not — it’s more like Skinny Jeans Pop.
With Pinback, Crow and partner Zach Smith have built an almost enviable machine: a band that always sounds pretty much the same. Rarely better, rarely worse, but always consistent. It wouldn’t be an impressive power on “Heroes,” but it’s comforting.

c. 2007 LEO Weekly

"Kurt Cobain: About a Son"

"Kurt Cobain: About a Son", Music from the Motion Picture
(Barsuk)

We can blame Nirvana for the existence of so many bad bands. On the other hand, leader Kurt Cobain’s consistent name-dropping of dozens of favorite bands helped introduce a generation to numerous artists that could have been otherwise forgotten. A.J. Schnack, director of the equally unlikely They Might Be Giants doc “Gigantic,” has crafted “About a Son” from audiotapes of Cobain talking to his biographer, Michael Azerrad. The film features visual footage of the Washington state towns in which Cobain spent his life.

This disc serves as an intro to the bands whose influences were fused together by Cobain to create the Nirvana sound: sugary pop, weirdo singer-songwriters, children’s songs, classic rock, folk rock, blues folk, hillbilly psych, fiery punk, glitter, sludge, Iggy and grungy, heroin-shooting peers. A fan with a huge appetite, Cobain absorbed everything from R.E.M. to Scratch Acid, Leadbelly to Bad Brains. A few snippets of him speaking add context, and equally unlikely pop star Ben Gibbard acknowledges the debt his career owes to Cobain’s example.

c. 2007 LEO Weekly

The Brunettes

Structure and Cosmetics
(Sub Pop)

First, I’ll tell you what this band sounds like: Belle and Sebastian, The Cardigans. Rilo Kiley, Stars.
Do you like those? Will you buy this because of that? Then buy this, and move along.
Are you intrigued but need more insight into this New Zealand cute overload misfire? Here’s some:
Throw in a thick load of Beach Boys, a smattering of J-Pop and ABBA and a little Go! Team; I’ll go on to tell you more about a band who would've been trendy in 1995.

Do individual songs even matter? Yes, as always.
OK: The opener, “B-A-B-Y,” aka “Brunettes Against Bubblegum Youth,” is the worst.
In “If You Were Alien,” a women who sounds like Kim Gordon asks, “But what if the world went pop?” as if she were serious. In 1990, Kim Gordon and Chuck D traded lines on a Sonic Youth record about race and gender. The Brunettes declare, “Sha-la-la-la-la.”
This is the kind of record that Laura Bush would like.

c. 2007 LEO Weekly

Will Garrison interview

Singer-songwriter Will Garrison makes a sort-of hometown return
appearance this weekend. Never heard of him? Let's hear what some of
our best singer-songwriters say about him:

"Absolutely the best songwriter who ever lived in the Deer Park
neighborhood and high, high in the running for best from this city
ever. Seriously." - Joe Manning.
"His music strikes me as independent among independents - at once
removed from fashion, and plugged in to a vast, peculiarly American
cultural landscape." - Joe O'Connell of Elephant Micah.

I asked the man himself to address some important issues:

Q: Do you consider yourself to be a Louisvillian?
A: Well, I moved around a lot growing up. So I guess I've never really
associated myself with any one place geographically. There is
something special for me about Louisville, though. It's where I spent
my earliest and arguably most formidable years artistically.

Q: What are some things you like about Louisville?
A: It's a humble place. It has a sharp wit and uses that to keep
itself as unpretentious as possible. People in Louisville know they
have something special but they'd never make a person feel small for
it. Oh, and I like that everyone enjoys drinking.

Q: You're touring with The Absent Arch, also from Minneapolis. What do
you like about them?
A They're willing to throw everything they've got into this. I've
found that to be something that's really hard to find. To me, their
sound is sort of how it would sound if John Prine was fronting
Calexico and they had a really solid jazz drummer. But they aren't
defined by their sound. They want to go all over the place, always
trying to go farther and reinvent themselves.

Q: We're having a huge heat wave. Do you wish that you were in
Minneapolis this month?
A: All of us are just happy about being on the road. No matter the
weather, we're really excited about Louisville. I'll be able to see
some family and friends that I haven't seen in too long, show the guys
some great guitars, and get a chance to play with The Commonwealth.
The Commonwealth is one of my favorite bands. (Bandleader) Daniel
(Duncan) has been a friend of mine for, I guess, seven or eight years
now. His style of writing has always inspired me and stuck melodies in
my head.

Q: How would you describe your music to, say, a friend's mother?
A: We're trying our best on an acoustic guitar and a cello.

Q: Will you have the cello guy with you?
A: Yes, absolutely. His name is James Waldo. He and I come from such
different directions. His classical background has left him unfamiliar
with music that has been highly influential to me, and allows him to
bring a variety of musical ideas separate from my own self-imposed
limitations. James doesn't think in verse-chorus-verse or in
traditional song structures. So we have a lot to learn from each other
and we're both so excited to learn.

Will Garrison and friends will play an all-ages show at the 930
Listening Room (www.the930.org), at 930 Mary St. in Germantown, on
Friday August 31st, at 8 pm. Tickets are $5.



c. 2007 LEO Weekly

"A Tribute to Joni Mitchell"

A Tribute to Joni Mitchell
(Nonesuch)

A well-compiled tribute to the music of Joni Mitchell is a welcome and necessary thing. To discuss her in full takes a book, or at least a well-lubed long night at a bar - issues of gender, race, nationality and psychology all become intertwined. This record merely hints at such themes, but helps spotlight her influence on some surprising artists.

Bjork - a fellow icy Northern country oddball who also paints her songs outside of the lines of pop music - makes "The Boho Dance" her own. Cassandra Wilson, Emmylou Harris and Elvis Costello demonstrate how much she freed them to also travel outside of their genre borders.
Brad Mehldau beautifully reminds the listener of her years spent playing with jazzbos. Caetano Veloso makes sense of the Afro-tribal drums that outpaced her in "Dreamland". Prince takes "A Case of You" and proceeds to melt panties and makes gay hearts flutter simultaneously. Sufjan Stevens misses his mark, but should at least give young hipsters a reason to examine her catalog.

C. 2007 LEO Weekly

Mark Olson

“Can you hold on a minute? Victoria is on the other line.”
It’s unclear which is more surprising — the fact that the musician on the phone assumes that I know about his personal life, or the fact that the musician is still friendly with the woman whom I, in fact, know to be his now ex-wife.

The musician, Mark Olson, is hardly a household name, though he has spent the last two decades accumulating fans around the world with a mature, heartfelt blend of folk, pop and rock music.
From 1986 through 1996, he led the Minneapolis-based band The Jayhawks with partner Gary Louris. On the way to gaining some minor radio play with the single “Blue,” The Jayhawks had become an unfortunate embodiment of the excesses of the major record companies. Expenses for recording albums and filming videos had put the band in debt for more than $1 million. Though Olson had been the main songwriter in the early days, Louris had become an equally strong leader, pushing the band in a poppier direction than Olson had envisioned.

Olson married singer-songwriter Victoria Williams, and the couple moved to the California town of Joshua Tree. “It’s gotten more commercialized, more strip malls, but in general, it’s still a very beautiful, more relaxed, small-town kind of place,” he says.

Williams had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. As they dealt with her health, Olson continued writing songs that were more folk-based than the increasingly Beach Boys-inspired, polished songs of The Jayhawks. While the Louris-led band continued on for three more albums, Olson and Williams formed a new band.

The Original Harmony Ridge Creekdippers found the Olsons joining collaborator Razz Russell. Cassettes appeared through mail order, and then CD issues signaled Olson’s return to the music business.
“I’ve had a bunch of other jobs — teaching, working with students with special needs — but, yes, I’m able to do this full-time, and I’m glad. I enjoy the technical aspects of playing with the instruments, tuning and finessing the strings.”

With more than seven releases, the collective formed a hub for the Palm Desert roots music scene. After he divorced Williams, Olson became unsure of what to do next. He found shelter from friends while traveling in Europe, like Jason Bourne with a guitar.

“My band now has friends of mine from all over. There are a lot of great people to work with over there.”
The album he came back with, The Salvation Blues, is his first true official album. Rather than give in to the unhappiness he had experienced, he wrote songs celebrating the struggle. Some people come here to die/We came here to live, he sings in “Clifton Bridge.” The formerly reclusive, 44-year-old Olson is back in sight, even filming a video that can be seen on his MySpace page. He has co-written with both Williams and Louris, and the former Jayhawks plan to spend 2008 writing and recording together.

Olson was here last month for WFPK’s Waterfront Wednesday. He returns for a show at the 930 Listening Room, at 930 Mary St. in Germantown, Saturday at 8 p.m., and earlier that day at ear X-tacy (1534 Bardstown Road, 452-1799) for a free in-store appearance and signing at 2 p.m.

c. 2007 LEO Weekly

Kentucky Prophet interview

Where do you live?
I live in Fordsville, Kentucky. A small town about a half hour south of Owensboro, which is the closest "big" city in Kentucky. I live in a trailer with a family member like all good white rappers.

What is the Hip Hop scene like there?
Fordsville is more of a bluegrass/country town. Every Friday night, they have music at the local community center. I'm the only rapper in town, so I have to travel to perform.

What do you think about the East Coast / West Coast wars? Do you think Biggie & Pac will ever stop fighting with each other?
I hate it when talented people die over something stupid as a turf war or something equally insignificant. Biggie & Pac are not fighting anymore. Rather, they are chillin' in Rap Heaven, where all beefs go to die with the rappers who carried them.

Whom inspired you to become a Hip Hop artist?
I would say Public Enemy, because their albums inspired me to create, but the real answer is rock music, because it got so awful that I wanted to listen to something else. At least, mainstream rock which was all I knew at the time. "They got no balls, they got no roots." - Frank Zappa, 1965.

Do you get a lot of groupies?
I have a few girls who really like me and the music, but no backstage sluts.

What do you like to do with women?
Beyond the typical clinical/glandular stuff any boy likes to do with a girl, I like simple stuff. Spending quality time with someone special, whether that's going out or staying in and listening to music.

You emphasize your physicality in live performances. Can you describe your body to our readers?
Well, for starters, I have what some Britishers might refer to as a "stylish pot", or a pot belly. Some people have six-packs, I got the full keg. I'm about 6'2" with medium-length brown hair and hazel eyes. I have legs like tree trunks and arms like cannons. My belly is as pronounced as that of the average 9-months-pregnant woman.

Do you think that you exploit yourself?
The subject of my weight is the elephant in the room, so I think it's best if I exploit it for laughs rather than some heckler.

Do you think you'd have the level of popularity that you've achieved if you weighed 300 pounds less?
I'd like to think so. There's a certain amount of entertainment in watching me make a spectacle out of myself, but deep down I think people enjoy the musical and comedic aspects of what I do.

Do you have a favorite Kool Keith line or verse?
The most obvious one is "keep it real, represent what? My nuts", but I also like "You drive a Dodge truck - I don't believe you."



c. 2007 Bejeezus Magazine

Dmonstrations

"Night Trrors, Schock!"

(GSL)

The truth about reviewing handfuls of CDs in a brief period of time is that after 1 or 2, said reviewer starts to realize how short life is. CDs begin to fall into 1 of 2 categories: 1) discs that immediately grab attention and never let up, and 2) Rhett Miller.

The incorrectly spelled Dmonstrations is the kind of band that makes you dance in your seat before you even realize that you are moving your cheese-filled American ass. And by dance, I'm referring to the Captain Beefheart, Pere Ubu, Boredoms type.

C. 2007 Bejeezus

John Denver

The Essential
(RCA/Legacy)

There’s absolutely no good reason for this collection to be released now. No, and especially not as a two-CD set. There’s nothing “freak” in his “folk” — for Devendra Banhart or Joanna Newsom to cover one of his songs wouldn’t be fun or kitschy, and besides, it just won’t happen.
I’m sure of only a few things in life — like, Barack Obama will not be elected president in ’08, but my love of fish tacos will continue to increase — and none of today’s fashionable musicians will pay any sort of tribute to John Denver anytime soon.

In fact, they already did seven years ago, when a tribute album was released featuring Louisville’s own Bonnie “Prince” Billy, among other independent spirits. Hey, I like John Denver pretty good (and this isn’t the first time I’ve been paid to mention that in print in the 21st century), but just like his fellow sweater-wearers Jimmy Carter and Mr. Rogers, you already have your opinion.

c. 2007 LEO Weekly

Ted Leo / Pharmacists

Living with the Living
(Touch & Go)

It pains me to have to report that this album, the fifth by the politically inspired, melodically punky Ted Leo, is not his best. By continuing to focus on war being bad and corrupt leaders being corrupt and all that, Leo seems to be going through the motions, lyrically, this go-round.
Musically, his usual reference points are there — from Springsteen to the Jam — but an attempt at reggae, “The Unwanted Things,” only brings to mind The Clash’s cover of Junior Murvin’s “Police and Thieves.” Another unwise use of falsetto propels the big ballad “The Toro and the Toreador,” which will sound eerily familiar to anyone who’s ever heard Jeff Buckley sing — and then rips off Big Star in the same song.

“Bomb.Repeat.Bomb” here doesn’t just sound like something Rage Against the Machine would do, it sounds like them, too.
Worst of all, the disc is broken up into 90 45-second bits.
So, if you’re making a mix for a girl named “Colleen,” good luck adding this song, Romeo.

C. 2007 LEO Weekly

Oldham's County

Cover Story

He's an acclaimed actor. He's Bonnie 'Prince' Billy. He's the best songwriter Louisville has ever produced. But who is Will Oldham, really?

You would not have to look far to find someone who believes Will Oldham is the most profound songwriter of his generation. Björk asked Oldham to open for her at the Hollywood Bowl. Johnny Cash asked him to join him for a cover of Oldham's song "I See a Darkness" on Cash's death-rattle of a final album. P.J. Harvey, Nick Cave and Charlie Louvin are admirers. His influence is everywhere and unmistakable: on alt-country bands steeped in the South, on the urban freak-folk scene that's all the rage and on lo-fi indie-rockers who find themselves pushed to poetry. There are even those who think he should have been nominated for an Oscar for his role in last year's acclaimed film Old Joy. This Sunday, the Louisville singer-songwriter will play the album "I See A Darkness," the instant classic he recorded as Bonnie "Prince" Billy, at Wild and Woolly Video's 10th anniversary party at Headliners.

It's a rare local appearance for a wayward genius who hides among us in plain sight, whose bald head and dirty blonde beard make him look like either a cherubic teen or a country grandfather, depending on the lighting. At times in concert, he augments his rural appearance with too much eye shadow. Once, I passed by him bicycling past Mid-City Mall wearing a pink, short-sleeved button-down shirt with short-shorts and flip-flops. He is very supportive of other musicians. He has contributed songs to locally released compilations. He sings songs by obscure English folkies and AC/DC. He is a fan of R. Kelly, and he is a fan of Merle Haggard. One thing he is not a fan of is explaining himself or his songs. Most interviews he has granted are painful to read; when the British newspaper the Guardian sent an award-winning music journalist to talk to him, Oldham did the interview while running errands in the Highlands. "I'm kinda busy," he told the writer as he checked his post office box.

So I was almost relieved when Oldham declined my interview request. (In its review of Old Joy, the Village Voice called Oldham "brilliantly annoying." Perhaps there's never been a truer two-word review.) I don't want to be the guy asking irritating questions about why he does what he does. And his obfuscation would take some of the fun out of wondering about how he makes his beautiful music. "He does represent the starting point for a whole generation of songwriters; he's the most popular and influential folk song writer of the '90s indie wave," said New York anti-folk musician Jeffrey Lewis, who was even moved to write a song about his idol, "Williamsburg Will Oldham Horror." "Even the recent 'freak folk' scene of Devendra Banhart, Joanna Newsom and Coco Rosie, etc., the idea of a weird-voiced folk singer who seemingly has 'outsider art' status while in actuality being a hip insider, all of this seems to have grown out of Will Oldham's influence."

A (reluctant) star is born

Will Oldham was born in Louisville on Dec. 24, 1970. As a youth, he trained as an actor, first at Walden Theatre, then at Actors Theatre of Louisville. At Actors, he auditioned for writer-director John Sayles, who put him in his movie Matewan. The script called for a Southern-fried teenaged Appalachian preacher - more country than any true Louisville boy, and a great opportunity for an actor. While his Brown School classmates were smoking their first joints, Oldham was co-starring with James Earl Jones. "He was a cute little crazy kid and obviously very talented," said James Roemer, the former general manager at Actors, now the administrative director of the Shakespeare Theatre in Washington, D.C. All that early success, however, didn't sell him on the craft. In an early indication of Oldham's discomfort with the machinery of celebrity, he grew frustrated with things like posing for headshots.

At 20, he dropped out of Brown University, bought a cheap guitar and landed in New York. On an album by a forgotten group called Box of Chocolates, his distinctive, surprisingly pretty voice can be heard in its early stages, though no one noticed at the time. So Oldham returned to Louisville, where the guys he had gone to school with were building one of the 1990s' most exciting indie-rock scenes. It was Oldham who shot the photo of Slint swimming that appears on the band's classic 1991 album Spiderland, an image that would be recreated years later for the "New Slang" video by seemingly everyone's favorite new band, the Shins. The born performer almost fell into the indie rock world, where he made an impression even before he started recording. "I have a real strong memory of seeing Matewan, and I thought Will was great," said director Phil Morrison, who lured Oldham back to the movies with a bit part in the 2005 indie sleeper Junebug. "Back then, movies were this other province. Even an indie movie like Matewan was from a bigger, more glamorous place. So to go to CBGB to see Rapeman, or whatever Steve Albini was doing at that moment, and see the kid from Matewan get on stage and, in my recollection, fart into a microphone, well, that was bananas."



Spontaneous greatness

Still in his early 20s, at that delicate point where those prone to breakdowns begin to fall apart, Oldham lost the plot. He retreated to his brother Paul's home in Virginia. There he began writing the songs that would make up his first album. One could've assumed at the time that Oldham might have attempted an adventurous rock record like his friends in Slint or his heroes like Albini, the studio guru behind some of the most admired albums of the last decade. But that would mean underestimating the general oddness of Louisville. Like Ethan Buckler, who left Slint for the absurdist faux-blues of King Kong, Oldham went away from rock. With his first record, There Is No-One What Will Take Care of You, he made a very rural declaration. Teamed with Slint bassist Todd Brashear (now the owner of Wild and Woolly), a yelping Oldham used banjoes to fill in spaces where electric guitars and synthesizers might go. He sang about family, about good and evil, about drink and the Devil. He also began challenging audiences. He claimed Washington Phillips' '20s blues song "I Had a Good Mother and Father" as his own, as he had with his first single, "Ohio River Boat Song," a localized re-write of the Scottish folk song "Loch Tay Boat Song" with new lyrics referring to his home (Floyds Knobs, Smoketown, Oldham County).

He also challenges basic notions of family, as his band name - the Palace Brothers - referred not to actual brothers, but rather to whomever was playing in his band at the moment, which changed almost constantly. "(He) chooses the people he's going to play with shortly before the session, so everyone is playing by the seat of their pants, and the music is at constant risk, subject to the weaknesses of whoever's in the room," said Albini, who recorded many of Oldham's best albums, including Palace's Viva Last Blues and Arise Therefore. "But he gets absolutely spontaneous moments of greatness you couldn't rehearse."

A constant chameleon

Like Bob Dylan, Oldham continues to re-interpret not only folk songs but also his own songs. In recent years, he released his first live album, Summer in the Southeast, which featured surprising versions of his songs, as well as Bonnie 'Prince' Billy Sings Greatest Palace Music, on which he re-recorded lo-fi '90s Palace Brothers songs backed by slick Nashville studio veterans. "Playing with him has always been an extraordinarily loose and fun experience," said Louisville guitarist Dave Bird, who has played with Oldham off and on. "Will puts a lot of trust in the folks he's playing with, and that's generally the way I like to roll as well."

Oldham continues to surprise. Critics who pigeonholed him as a bluegrass-infused type after his first album were forced to come up with a new explanation when he followed up with a solo acoustic record. Later records were filled with pianos, then (relatively) harder rock. His breakthrough album came in 1999. Released under yet another moniker - Bonnie "Prince" Billy - I See A Darkness caught the attention of famed producer Rick Rubin, who included the title song on a tape he sent to Johnny Cash. Cash invited Oldham to sing it with him on what would end up being one of Cash's last studio albums. "He has a great voice - very identifiable," said country legend Charlie Louvin, who invited Oldham to sing "Knoxville Girl" with him on his new album of duets. "If you ever heard him one time, you would pick him out of anything he'd done. That's a great asset for anybody to have - don't just sound like everybody else that they've heard."

Still keeping his distance

In 2002, Oldham told England's Guardian Unlimited that he does not want "a personal relationship with my fans. Or to do anything that encourages them to think they have one with me. They can have a personal relationship with my songs. That's fine, but they don't know me." And at one point in Old Joy, Oldham tells a friend, "I'm at a whole new place now, really." It looks like he's actually been in the same place for a long time. By shifting personas and styles so effectively, he's turned reinvention into an art form on darkly revealing albums that nevertheless reveal little about the man behind them. And the more you talk to his friends and those who have worked with him, the more the mystery remains. Even people who have gotten to know Oldham can't really explain him. But then again, we all have friends like that. Morrison, the movie director, struggles to reconcile the Oldham he calls "surprisingly regular" with the inscrutable performer who is constantly changing his stage name and sometimes sings covers of Mariah Carey songs. "It's classic Will - everything I say about him, I have to throw in some contradictory caveat," Morrison said. "That's entertaining and interesting. What's funny is how balled up we all can get over it. What do you mean? What's the truth about you? It makes people mad."

c. 2007 Velocity Weekly

Boz Scaggs

"Silk Degrees"
(Columbia)

Somewhere in the sweaty chest hair of the nadir of the ’70s, there was a most moist and sleazy sound where pop, disco and jazz met. My friend Savoir Faire used to call it "Jacuzzi Jazz." I believe the kids today refer to it as "Yacht Rock." This movement provided a soundtrack for men and women who got together in hot tubs to drink wine coolers, inhale cocaine and have orgies.



Boz Scaggs hit his artistic peak — at which point, it must be noted, he still sucked — around 1976’s Silk Degrees, a flaccid mixture of Philly disco and Southern roadhouse rock. A former member of the Steve Miller Band who’s presumably trying to sound like Otis Redding via Eddie Hinton, one can assume that this is a comedy record and not necessarily be wrong. It could’ve
been worse — his name could’ve been Scoz Baggs.

c. 2007 LEO Weekly

!!!

Myth Takes
(Warp)

opening - cinematic - Massive Attack meets Morricone.

"All My Heroes Are Weirdos" -
very largely indebted to '80's Clash and Gang of Four, ESG and
Blondie; they try to fix the Clash (capturing the best elements of the
beating-on-trash-can rhythms, the thickly plucked peak funk and
post-punk guitars and bass; stylized and stylish if too
fashion-conscious vocals which betray deeply middle-class Western
roots) while not repeating the mistakes (i..e., sides of "Sandanista")

"Must Be the Moon" –
phone call and response, implied cowbell.
sense of urgency - tightened, if not focused.

"A New Name" and "Heart of Hearts" –
Miami sweaty disco diva.



"Sweet Life" - Meters in Nigeria chicken scratch riffs 'n' grooves,
lots of letters (musical notes?)
post-Beck falsetto.

"Yadnus" -
implied industrial sounds / subway car.
T. Rex crashes car into John Barry James Bond theme.

"Bend Over Beethoven" –
Is this a different song? For realz?

"Break in Case of Anything" –
Breakin' 3: Electric Dub Vegas.

"Infinifold" -
end credits. Grab yr jacket and toss your popcorn bag.

C. 2007 LEO Weekly

Entrance

Prayer of Death
(Tee Pee)

Young, middle-class whites have been taking the music of their darker-skinned favorites and selling it back to other young, middle-class whites for many years. From Led Zeppelin to the White Stripes, we keep falling for it. This week, they call themselves Entrance.
"Prayer of Death" tries too hard to utilize the heavy sounds of Led Zeppelin without repeating the cliches that have ruined many metal bands. From Zeppelin, Entrance (primarily singer-songwriter Guy Blakeslee) also derive third-hand inspiration from authentic, exotic music such as Indian ragas. Indeed, songs like "Requiem for Sandy Bull (R.I.P.)" seem to exist primarily to prove how awesome his obscure record collection is.

Blakeslee's reluctance to just sing - without cracking his voice to prove how "real" he is - is unfortunate. The most captivating song on this record, the title song, works exceedingly well when he's singing but less so when he's wavering. Someone should tell dude that we're not going to believe that you're an 82-year-old sharecropper, so maybe just relax and play it right.

Karling Abbeygate

Karling Abbeygate
(Dionysus Records)

When someone tells a joke at a party and it falls flat, it's a painful experience for the joker and for their audience. When someone makes a joke of an album but gets to avoid seeing the discomfort and annoyance on the face of the audience, it's even sadder.
English lass Karling Abbeygate fancies herself to be a honkey tonk singer tucked conveniently between the saucy sass of Wanda Jackson and the silky sadness of Patsy Cline. A former model who isn't much to look at, but poses in her album photos as undressed as Tara Reid in Ibiza, Abbeygate might fool the casual listener but wouldn't last very long at Robert's Western Wear in Nashville. Her singing reminds one of Tammy Faye Messner's speaking voice.



Most disappointing is that her L.A.-based band, led by veteran lounge bandleader Joey Altruda, is crisp and adept. While laying down the foundation for a torch singer in a Best Western in Boise isn't the worst gig a band could get, they deserve a singer who doesn't sound like Betty Boop at karaoke, too tired from her office job to offer a performance worth paying attention to for more than ten seconds.

The Pennies

10,000 Things
(ear X-tacy Records)

For a band that broke up 4 years ago, The Pennies are releasing one of the freshest, most vibrant records in recent memory.
The purposefully, dreamily, zanily off-kilter pop/rock band flaunted plenty of wicked riffs and killer hooks on their first album, 1999's Come, We Go. Fans of the Flaming Lips, who marveled at their growth, will find themselves in similar territory here.



They could still kick out a Pixies-style rave-up like "Where Crows Attack" (smartly aided by Liberation Prophecy's Jacob Duncan praying at the church of Albert Ayler) and sci-fi Krautrock, but score even more impressively with some percussive ballads structured and textured in the later style of a Grandaddy or Mercury Rev. Strings, horns and keyboards expand the songs out of the nightclub and onto the stage, revealing a composer equally familiar with Sondheim and Sonic Youth. Bandleader Jeremy Podgursky and his then-colleagues did what few
accomplish - his compositions and performances go beyond rock 'n' roll and leap out of the speakers, flying away with wonder and excitement and the question of what is and what could have been...

c. 2006 LEO Weekly

Jamie Barnes

The Recalibrated Heart
(Pink Bullet Recordings)

In this city of hundreds of thousands of people, there are only a handful of troubadours. Like most cities, many of our few are loud, brutish and lacking in skill. Jamie Barnes sticks out for the grace and beauty he is able to draw on to seduce an audience.
In his third album, Barnes sticks to his established practice of recording himself at home, performing most of the instruments himself. Though he shares this practice with Stevie Wonder, the similarity ends there. Musically, he has more in common with Sufjan Stevens, another indie folk singer-songwriter whose angelic voice owes its inspiration to a kind, loving religious grounding.



Barnes performs with confidence, seamlessly melding etheral harmonies and folk guitars with more offbeat percussion instruments. Barnes address religious stories and characters more directly than ever before, a move that should further help set him apart from his peers, hopefully without alienating any of his early fans. His songs of angels and devils, Heaven and Hell, have more in common with Johnny Cash than Jimmy Swaggart. And if you forget where else he came from, there's even a song about R.E.M. (which, itself, is more about love, family and the value of life).

c. 2006 LEO Weekly

reviews

The A-Sides
"Hello, Hello" (Prison Jazz)
60's psychedelia pop for fans of The Shins (or, originally, The Beach
Boys, The Kinks and The Who). The harmonies are rich, the riffs solid
- the songs are there. Recommended.

Barbez
"Insignificance" (Important)
Eastern European Gypsy folk rock. For those of us who are fans of the
Pogues and Faun Fables but who aren't annoying, gross hippies.

Goblin Cock
"Bagged and Boarded" (Absolutely Kosher)
Exactly what you'd expect from a dude from Pinback making a Black
Sabbath record.

Gogol Bordello
"Gyspy Punks: Undetrdog World Strike" (SideOneDummy)
They have a song called "Think Locally, Fuck Globally". They are to
gypsy punks what Sublime was to '60's Jamaican ska. One word:
Chumbawumba. I bet they wear "funny" costumes onstage. Hey dudes,
y'know, it IS possible to go down the pub, raise a pitcher and put
your arm around your best mate without having to make lousy music
about the experience.

Linda Draper
"One Two Three Four" (Planting Seeds)
A very tasteful, pretty record of lovely songs. Draper is more upbeat
than Hope Sandoval but more restrained than Neko Case, more poppy than
Julie Doiron but calmer than Mirah. Produced by, surprisingly, Kramer
(ex-Bongwater, Butthole Surfers). A nice surprise. Highly recommended.

Longwave
"There's a Fire" (RCA)
This music is so earnest, sensitive and joyless, it can, literally,
only be heard by teens writing in their Live Journals. Literally.

The Makers
"Everybody Rise!" (Kill Rock Stars)
With production by Jack Endino, an architect of grunge, I expected
something in the AC/DC-garage rock mode. I didn't expect Sunset Strip
hair metal 1986, especially on the once-unimpeachable Kill Rock Stars.
That's it, I'm retiring.

Moggs
"The White Belt Is Not Enough" (Absolutely Kosher)
The title - and the photo of this duo, dressed mostly in white - would
suggest a too-cool hipster dance party. For better or worse, the music
is actually closer to the post-punk of Joy Division or early Sonic
Youth, an icier Quasi. Recommended.

M.O.T.O.
"Raw Power" (Criminal IQ)
Yes, I know that this is supposed to be a joke - a dumber Ramones -
but it's just not that funny. Songs like "Gonna Get Drunk Tonight" and
"Spend the Night on Me" were done better by Poison or Whitesnake, who
at least were trying to get girls with their bad music.

Sybris
"Sybris" (Flameshovel)
Now this, this one here, this is a headscratcher. This group sounds
100% like the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, only with less energy and a lesser
grasp of song structure. I just don't understand why this exists.

Voltage
"Building the Bass Castle, Vol. 1" (Flameshovel)
Decently pleasant instrumental duo - guitar and drums - from Chicago.
Good background music, poorly recorded. I'd bet that they've listened
to some Slint or the Minutemen, and that they missed the points each
time.

c. 2006 Bejeezus

Spin 101 June '06

Thursdays
DJ Sam Sneed
North End Cafe
502-896-8770
Free; www.northendcafe.com
Louisville scenesters put on their dancing shoes for this decadent party, with Sneed playing Britpop, dance punk, and much more. Get your hair did!
***



Mondays
Acoustic Love Series
Red Lounge
502-896-6116
$3; www.theredlounge.com
An intimate night of series (like Tara Jane O'Neil or Freakwater's Catherine Irwin) playing on a couch in this converted gas station.
***

c. 2006 Spin

Spin 101 May '06

May 26
Global Grease with Kim Sorise
North End Cafe
Free; www.northendcafe.com
Expect sexy '60's and '70's French seduction pop, Italian soundtrack sleaze, Brazilian baby-makin', and mas y mas.
****

May 27
Last Saturday
Keswick Democratic Club
$6; www.lastsaturday.net
Auxiliary Records hosts a monthly, all-ages series of hardcore shows with bands such as Young Widows, Paint It Black and Pissed Jeans.
***

c. 2006 Spin

Tortoise & Bonnie "Prince" Billy

Tortoise & Bonnie 'Prince' Billy
"The Brave and the Bold"
(Overcoat)

Why people think that a duet between 2 idiosyncratic musical talents will be great, maybe twice as good as each artist alone, continues to stump me. I wish that I could forget about Paul McCartney & Stevie Wonder's "Ebony & Ivory".
The main problem with this collaboration – and most - is that both artists have to mute their finest qualities in order to meet halfway. Tortoise, best when challenging each other to stretch as far as possible while still holding together, here is reduced to a pop studio backing band. Oldham is at his best at his most alone. He is beloved for his most quiet singing, framing lyrics that can be poetic,
perverse, purposefully misleading. His bands twist and turn when they do, when they can, not when they're supposed to.



Oldham can be an interesting interpreter, but some of the songs here (Don Williams' painfully goofy "Pancho", Devo's "That's Pep!") don't deserve serious revitalizing. The post-punk bands that have informed both artists prove that Oldham was never meant to be a loud rock singer, and that Tortoise was never meant to play straightahead. Both are best when they make the music serve them; here, the opposite is forced upon them.

c. 2006 LEO Weekly

Top Five in '05

1. "Twin Cinema," the New Pornographers — The best pop/rock album of the year. Fun, sexy and bold. Adults — Canadians, even — act as playful as 2-year-olds, with melodies worthy of the best Broadway shows, Nashville dives and high school mixers.


2. "Lookaftering," Vashti Bunyan — The fun part of these end-of-the year lists is in realizing trends and patterns. Of my five favorites this year, three are by women at different ages. Bunyan returned to music after 35 years away, with this timeless collection of folk songs.


3. "Ex Hex," Mary Timony — Timony picked up her guitar again, rocking out harder than any other 30-something, despite realizing that she'll probably never sell a million, or even 50,000 records. This is music made by someone, for herself, because she loves it and has to.


4. "Vertically Challenged," Lady Sovereign — Miss Lady is hard to discuss without the obligatory mentions of her being a white, British, 19-year-old girl. She's also Jay-Z's new favorite and the toughest, funniest rapper today, reminiscent at times of Eminem and Missy Elliott but with more futuristic beats.


5. "Buena Vista Social Club Presents," Manuel "El Guajiro" Mirabal — Another old Cuban master, trumpeter Guajiro has so much energy left that you'll have no choice but to shake that healthy butt.

2005 didn't suck as bad as we thought!

When people ask why I’ve moved to Louisville — twice — from bigger cities, I explain that, partly, it’s because of the local music universe. I say “universe” because “scene” is such a small, juvenile word for something so beautiful and weird.

Slint and My Morning Jacket were the highlights for me this year. Even in a town that loves to shout jokes and insults at anyone whose head might get too big, the skill and passion in each — especially Slint drummer Britt Walford and Jacket singer Jim James — was undeniable and thrilling.

In the clubs, Lucky Pineapple delighted with their inventive, exciting blend of styles and rhythms. Joe Manning stunned with his amazing voice and lyrics that are already being taught in universities and bars.

Others that always delivered include a.m. Sunday, Ayin, Elephant Micah, Jamie Barnes, The Photographic, Rachel's, Ronnie Mack and the I'll Beat Your Back Out Band, Scott Carney, Sean Garrison & the Five Finger Discount, Shipping News, Verktum and Your Black Star.
Freakwater finally returned. The Children are missed. Dick Sisto, Harry Pickens and Todd Hildreth fed my love of jazz piano. Tanita Gaines gave me the blues, and I thank her.

2006 promises new records by Follow the Train, Johnny Berry and the Outliers, Liberation Prophecy, The Merediths, Sapat and Second Story Man, plus the lost Pennies album!

There’s not enough space to write about each, or about two dozen other excellent groups. Go see and hear them all, as often as possible. There’s a universe happening here.

c. 2005 LEO Weekly

Which Christmas records suck this year?

This is the season that never ends (it goes on and on, my friend)

Christmas never ends, even for those for whom it never begins. Although the monsoon of pointless gift offerings only saturates every inch of the Western world for two long, dreary months, in this essay I will focus my adorable rage on a handful of compact discs that you really shouldn’t buy, consider buying or … actually, don’t even read this. I get paid either way.

So much is asked of your attention these days, I ask — nay, beg — as a citizen of this great nation, as a seeker of truth and justice who loves our freedoms and salutes all those who have given of themselves so that you may fight over Beanie Babies or whatever else your kid will have forgotten about two months from now, I beg of you, please stop reading this now and go spread peace and love to your family, friends and pizza delivery guy. (The latter only applies if you’re a stoner, porn actor or both.)

The history of Christmas music is very long, and even longer if one focuses on all the misguided attempts to cash in on the American public’s shockingly consistent habit of buying annoying, phoned-in records that sound no better than the others already bought over the years.

Out of all of the embarrassments brought on by Christmas music, there are at least two types that are at the top of the bottom of the barrel: Jewish entertainers (Neil, Barbra, Barry, et al.) chasing after the same holiday dollars while celebrating a different holiday, all the while downplaying their own culture and beliefs and doing nothing (worse than nothing, actually) to educate and entertain people with their own catchy-but-tired anthems.

Then there’s the good, the talented, the inspired music makers who can do better — who only do better — slumming, either for what they perceive as a quick buck, or to announce that they are so established that they pretty much have to make a lame, pointless Christmas record that adds absolutely nothing new to the genre. What’s your favorite James Brown record? Ernest Tubb? Low? I didn’t think so.
Let’s get to some of what makes each of this year’s crop suck, individually:


The Brian Setzer Orchestra: Dig That Crazy Christmas CD/“Christmas Extravaganza” DVD (Surfdog)
If there’s one musician who makes me earn my pay, it’s Brian Setzer. Though I might say you couldn’t pay me to listen to his so very incredibly annoying shtick, I like getting a chance to remind potentially thousands of readers about just how unenjoyable his existence on this planet is. What Jim Belushi has contributed to comedy, Setzer has given to music. As a guitarist, he has a distinctive tone and his playing has improved over the years (how could it not?), but his Johnny Rockets/“Happy Days” retro show apologizes for every lazy, mediocre, safe aspect of modern life. Only Rupert Murdoch might be able to enjoy something so soulless.


Diana Krall: Christmas Songs (Verve)
Goodness, some targets are just so easy to hit it’s hardly worth it. Diana Krall’s main albums are already, basically, the literal embodiment of what’s wrong with Christmas records: tasteful, predictable, soothing to the point of numbness. Even the name of her Christmas songs album is uninspired. She’s been blessed with a deep, smoky voice (the voice that Joni Mitchell had to smoke for 40 years to earn), and has solid taste in collaborators (here she’s backed by the ever-solid Clayton-Hamilton Jazz Orchestra). While there isn’t much bad about Krall’s music, there isn’t anything great about it, and that’s terrible.


Marah: A Christmas Kind of Town (Yep Rock)
This generic bar band is best known for sounding so much like a band that sounds like a mid-1990s Bruce Springsteen record performed with late-’80s Springsteen energy, or alternately as a favorite of middle-aged pop critics who lost touch many years ago. This falls into the category of bands announcing their arrival, but it’s a premature announcement. Smartly, the band has made one of the shorter Christmas records around. I was even starting to get used to how much time I was wasting listening to it when it ended. While a handful of songs benefit from a melding of Polka beats and Celtic-punk rhythms — and isn’t that what you’re looking for this holiday season? — the rest is about as interesting as watching golf on TV on a pretty day.


New Grange: A Christmas Heritage (Compass)
Joining Diana Krall in the Starbucks-ready pile is this collection of talents for whom traditional bluegrass is too intense, but who lack enough imagination to improve upon it (including Darol Anger, Alison Brown, Tim O’Brien and more). It’s all very polite and competent, but fades into the background within seconds.


Umixit: U-Sing-It Christmas (Webster Hall NYC)
Finally, one disc that offers something: Load this into your computer, and use it as a karaoke disc! Now that’s fun for your whole talentless family!


Various: Taste of Christmas (War Content)
You know how teens can be really grating? Dumb, loud, completely self-absorbed? Not the cool ones, the ones with brains and potential — no, I just mean most of them. Imagine the most moronic of the lot trying out Christmas songs — Funeral for a Friend, Skindred, The Used, etc. This is just inexcusable.

Finally, I’m here to remind you that there’s only one Christmas record worth buying and worth listening to. Bing Crosby? If you must. Nat King Cole? Possibly. No, I’m talking about Vince Guaraldi’s "A Charlie Brown Christmas". If you know someone who doesn’t have one yet (deaf? foreigner? deaf foreigner?), be a friend, indeed. Spread peace and joy this holiday by giving them the only CD they’ll need to get through this, the most obnoxious time of year.


c. 2005 LEO Weekly

Bear Vs. Shark

Terrorhawk
(Equal Vision)

In the painful movie New York Minute, one of the Olsen Twins (the one who’s now sniffing away her fortune, not the one who’s dating a different greasy older guy every week) winds up at one of those MTV-coordinated concerts featuring some loser “punk” band (if not the one whose singer is dating Hillary Duff, then one whose singer should be).

That’s what came to mind as I forced myself to listen to this pablum.

In the wake of Nirvana’s success, I realized that their success was not breeding 15 more bands as good as them. No, instead it was breeding 15 terrible bands who tried to summon their spirit without understanding where the inspiration came from. Stone Temple Pilots, they’re elegant bachelors. Bush… Silverchair…



The pointless, pubescent whining of Bear Vs. Shark probably sounds fresh to a 15-year-old. This is the kind of music made by bored suburban boys. Not the ones who are anguished over the cruel nature of life, just the ones who feel like they don’t get enough attention from their parents.

Song titles include “I Fucked Your Dad” and “Rich People Say Fuck Yeah Hey Hey”.

c. 2005 LEO Weekly

Woody's Tavern

Address: 208 E. Burnett Ave. (at Brook), Old Louisville.

Small print: Open daily, 4 p.m. to 4 a.m.

Why you should go: If you've been driving through Old Louisville, seen the Woody Woodpecker cartoon sign outside and wondered what product was being sold, come on in. You might think it's a comic-book shop, or perhaps some other fun place.

It is, but it's fun for those 21 and over. Woody's Tavern is a place for like-minded adults to meet and get to know one another better over a few cold ones.

The bar was previously known as a rowdy offshoot of the neighboring Mag Bar, but it has been reborn. Too much rock ‘n‘ roll attitude has been replaced by a cleaner, more sedate and fabulous bar for men who would rather kiss other men than fight them.



PHOTOS BY DAVID P. HARPE

The live music has been replaced by extra pool tables, a fine opportunity to observe a new partner in motion. The carpet looks brand new, a bit of a shock initially but a welcome improvement.

"I would feel safer passing out here now than I would have before," slurred my drunken companion Hazel.

(I didn't go to Woody's with Hazel and Sally just to assert my own orientation, but it was nice to be able to socialize with female friends who weren't being ogled by anyone besides me.)

The drinks are reasonably priced and well-made. The service is prompt and friendly, and occasionally lacking in clothing.

The jukebox has been predictably overhauled; gone is the raucous underground rock music, replaced by Mariah and Cher and, well, you get the idea.

Bottom line: The best feature is the back patio area, retained from the previous incarnation and spiffed up with some very Miami-lookin' plant life. This fall, it should be a comfortable place to drink, talk and hear songs such as "You Sexy Thing" and "One Night in Bangkok."

Bejeezus 7 micro reviews

Alexander Hacke
“Sanctuary” (Kool Arrow)
Middle-aged German men shouldn’t try to make sound collages or industrial music, it’s way too expected of them. I bet he wears leather chaps when he goes to the ATM or when he pick up a pizza.

Boyracer
“Happenstance” (Happy Happy Birthday to Me)
More fast, short, sweet English indie punk pop from Boyracer. More Heavenly than The Fall. More Blur than Suede. Very Very English.

The Channel
“Personalized” (C-Side)
These guys are named Brent Pennington and Colby Pennington. That’s gotta be the preppiest thing I’ve ever heard. Wait, they cover Will Oldham’s “Black”? Maybe I should listen to this.
Well, here we are again. I’m reminded of a scene on BEAVIS AND BUTT-HEAD when the boys are stunned by the completely average competency of the video they’re watching. Unable to come up with anything especially harsh or praiseworthy to say, they mumble a bit before getting up to do something else.
Oh, and then their version of “Black” suggests that they lack any depth or understanding of life whatsoever.

Crystal Skulls
“Blocked Numbers” (Suicide Squeeze)
Crystal Skulls is all about immediately catchy, mid-tempo indie rock a la The Shins, and also some of the best early ‘80’s pop, like Men at Work. I’ve listened to this over and over again. They are so much more impressive than many other current baby bands simply because they’re not trying too hard to impress. Highly recommended if you enjoy music.

Del Cielo
“Us Vs. Them” (Lovitt)
Oh boy. They’re a bit slick. Corporate rock still sucks. The singer can’t sing very well. This would’ve been on a major label in 1993. Uh, did I mention that they have a song called “Joe Goth”?

DMBQ
“The Essential Sounds from the Far East” (Estrus)
Not NRBQ, and thankfully not anything to do with Dave Matthews. This, the Dynamite Masters Blues Quartet, is classic ‘70’s rock played by 2004 Japanese guys. It’s pretty good. Not too noisy, not too generic, but ultimately not too interesting. This would sound pretty good in the background at a mildly enjoyable party.

French Toast
“In a Cave” (Dischord)
Jimmy Canty of The Make-Up and Jerry Busher of Fugazi. Together they are French Toast. Together they are obviously still deeply in love with early ‘80’s post-punk: The Wipers, Devo, Joy Division, Mission of Burma… It gets softer and more modern indie along the way – light, airy keyboards, warm emotive vocals. Hopefully they’ll perfect the balance next time out. Oh, and there’s a D.C. dub groove thrown in, just in case you forgot about their Fugazi associations. Recommended.

Goon Moon
“I Got a Brand New Egg Layin’ Machine” (Suicide Squeeze)
Get yr head around this one: Twiggy Ramirez of Marilyn Mason, Zach Hill of Hella, and QOTSA producer and Masters of Reality leader Chris Goss… The good news is that Hella’s kookily inventive instrumental assault wins out over the bloated cock rock of Mr. Ramirez and the subtler cock rock of Mr. Goss. It was good at first until the Kraftwerk-ish piece with the vocoder voices chanting, “Rock weird, weird rock.” Yeah, thanks, dudes, I didn’t get it until you pointed it out to me. And then the next one is about mashed potatoes and cream. The best thing Frank Zappa ever did wasn’t music, it was dying.

Guapo
“Black Oni” (Ipecac)
The ‘70’s ponytail prog sounds of King Crimson, Yes, etc. played with modern aggression. Also a very good soundtrack for a psychological thriller movie. Good to drive to.



Hanin Elias
“Future Noir” (Fatal)
A Marianne Faithfull for the Digital Hardcore generation, Hanin Elias has grown beyond her early association with Atari Teenage Riot and is beginning to emerge as a promising singer/songwriter, part PJ Harvey but still part dated trip-hop singer. This is what Jennifer Connelly’s character is DARK CITY should’ve sounded like. Still, I can’t really recommend this one.

The Jessica Fletchers
“Less Sophistication” (Rainbow Quartz)
Good but derivative. Midwestern power pop (Cheap Trick with only 1 testicle) / late 60’s British Invasion pop; oft-bouncy, perfectly enjoyable sunny summer fun time music. Probably wouldn’t be so easy to typecast if the singer wasn’t a nasally, trying-to-be-John-Lennon type. I guess I’d recommend it if there weren’t dozens of better versions of this stuff already available.
Oh, and thanks for lowering the bar on band names, guys. That’s gotta be the lamest ‘80’s reference yet.

Lydia Lunch
“Smoke in the Shadows” (Atavistic)
It’s shocking, just how terrible this is. This might be the worst record ever made. Imagine if your grandmother thought she was Raymond Chandler and Miles Davis at the same time. Then imagine her rapping.

Mixel Pixel
“Contact Kid” (Kanine)
This is some pretty nice bedroom indie pop/rock. Not much more to say about it – fuzzy guitars, dashes of keyboards, dude sounds like he’s around 22. I like Pavement, too.

The Paper Chase
“God Bless Your Black Heart” (Kill Rock Stars)
Shit sandwich.

Pit Er Pat
“Shakey” (Thrill Jockey)
This keyboard-driven pop band, which only owes every moment of their existence to Blonde Redhead, had the good sense to name their record properly. Due to the prominence of the keyboards and the lack of a guitar, this made me feel like I was on a ship, and I needed to drink something pink to make my tummy feel better.

The Sharp Ease
“Going Modern” (olfactory / Soft Spot)
Only the debut record by the best band in L.A. (Not that there’s a lot of competition). They’re young and female, they’re smart and bratty and know what they’re doing. The record doesn’t capture the crazy chaos of their frenetic live shows, but instead highlights their surprisingly poppy songwriting skills and tight-knit rock telepathy. It’s not the huge leap that the Germs accomplished with “G.I.”, but I hope 25 years from now people will still be listening to The Sharp Ease.

Some Girls
“The DNA Will Have Its Say” (Three.One.G)
San Diego spazz noise rock. 7 songs in 7 minutes. The vocals are shouty like hardcore but I bet they all have stylish haircuts.

Z’s
“Karate Bump” EP (Planaria)
Free Jazz.
Either you live for it or it’ll bug you.