by Steve McPherson

Mary Bue
East to the Sea

It’s surprisingly easy to mess up something as simple as recording a singer playing piano. The temptation is to get the best sounding piano, the best sounding mics and the best sounding room and just let the tape roll, but Duluth-based Mary Bue has done something much more than that on this 14-track disc. Instead of the pristine and antiseptic sound that dominates so many singer/songwriters’ albums, Bue opts for ambience and grit here and it’s fantastic.

The disc is shot through with a distinctly North Shore aesthetic, from the ringing chords and tinkling bells of “The Long Days” to the empty and slightly dissonant swing of “Song for Holly.” Points of reference include the more intimate moments of Sarah McLachlan and other big-voiced youngsters like our own JoAnna James. Altogether, it’s some great weekend-breakfast-making music, like you’ve woken up mid-morning on an overcast Sunday on Lake Superior by the sound of muted music, and as you wander downstairs you find Ms. Bue seated at the creaky piano in the parlor, just playing for herself.

Electropolis
S/T

Full marks for ambition, guys. In the spirit of Bill Frisell’s work with the films of Buster Keaton, saxophonist Michael Ferrier’s Electropolis (with Michael O’Brien on bass, Steve Roehm on percussion and Kelly Rossum on trumpet) has already created spontaneous soundtracks for Fritz Lang’s “Metropolis” and “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari,” and now they’ve released a slinky, spooky out-there disc so you can take their misshapen electronic/acoustic grooves home with you. A mix of improvised and pre-arranged compositions, Electroplis’ self-titled debut is in the vein of exploratory-yet-groovy fare like David Fiuczynski’s Screaming Headless Torsos, Medeski Martin and Wood’s classic Friday Afternoon in the Universe or the Twin Cities own Fantastic Merlins (featuring Ferrier’s wife, Jacqueline Ferrier-Ultan, on cello). Rather than relying on overdubs, Ferrier and Kelly Rossum simply plug in the normally acoustic saxophone and trumpet (respectively) to create the electrosax and electrumpet, and away they go into territory normally reserved for electric guitars and keyboards. “Dagobah” comes off like Yoda driving War’s low rider as a trumpet (I think) sweeps through a phase modulator and the sax bumps out spastic bursts through a digital delay. It’s moody, atmospheric stuff that knows when to strut and when to break ankles, the kind of thing that would be great as the soundtrack to … oh, I don’t know … a German expressionist silent movie. What? They already did that? Awesome.

Dan Israel
S/T

Some people think that making an eponymous record any time after your first record is a copout, but in Dan Israel’s case, I think it’s warranted. He is, after all, a brand new man following the birth of his son Isaac. Playing all the instruments this time out, Israel’s crafted another fine collection of rockers and ballads that recall the Arc Angels (“Question”), the Beatles’ “And Your Bird Can Sing” (“Turnin’ It Down”) and Elvis Costello, generally, who’s Israel’s closest vocal relative. “In the Cards” is a gently rolling examination of the uncertainty of the human condition while “2822” is a worthy companion to Rob Skoro’s “2318” in the line of 4-digit paeans to addresses. I’d like to point out that they both add up to 14, by the way. What ties together the song topics, which run from rage at people in power in “Plenty” to the tender ode to his son “Every Single Day,” is Israel’s unpretentious, down-to-earth attitude. Other albums are more ambitious in scope, but Israel’s grown comfortably into a mellow, solid sound that allows him to cover a wide range of topics lyrically. He may sometimes range into sentimentality, but grant the new dad a little indulgence. As Oscar Wilde said, “A sentimentalist is simply one who desires to have the luxury of an emotion without paying for it,” and no one can say Israel hasn’t earned it. With seven releases (two on Eclectone Records) under his belt, the glow of fatherhood all about him and several local awards, expect more generous and warm-hearted work from this mensch.

Tyler Jakes
Lo-Fi Matter

Sometimes it can be hard coming up with album titles but I doubt Tyler Jakes had too much trouble coming up with Lo-Fi Matter for this collection of songs. Blasting out of the gates with the remember-BRMC-when-they-rocked-and-loved-JAMC garage-rocker “Lie Awake,” Jakes is intent on laying down some truly dirty rock and roll here. Jakes plays all the instruments himself, working an impressively gnarly groove on everything from drums to slide guitar. The end result is an album that evokes flaming hot rods on “Spaghetti A Go-Go,” T. Rex’s mellow glaze crossed with Dylan-esque harmonica on “Suck Radio” and the Sergio Leone soundtrack/gypsy punk miscegenation of “Only a Dream.” That it was not only written and performed but also recorded by Jakes is impressive, although the production is lacking the real analog warmth that the grimy material deserves. If Jakes can feel comfortable turning over some control to a producer with an ear for what Jakes seems to be after here, he could make a truly outstanding disc. As it is, Lo-Fi Matter is a great starting point for an artist reminiscent of a muscle-car Ben Weaver and worthy of a seat next to Terry Eason in the eclectic garage band touring van.

Ernie Rhodes
The Orbital Effect

Ernie Rhodes, along with Geoffrey Watson MC, formed Dialogue Elevaters Crew in 2001, and while that group waited three years to put out their first disc, it's been followed in short order by a solo release from GWMC and now Ernie Rhodes' The Orbital Effect. In a scene dominated by one-upsmanship in the who's-the-most-damaged-rapper sweepstakes, Rhodes debut is a breath of fresh and funky air, hearkening back to the days of the Skee-Lo’s “I Wish” and Souls of Mischief's '93 'Til Infinity. "The Works" bumps out on a sprightly orchestral sample, as does the shortish "Rebirth," which echoes Pharcyde's "Soul Flower" in its bouncy hornline. The beats are eclectically assembled while still keeping a keen eye on the dancefloor and the bulk of the tracks are the products of D.E.C.'s DJ, Last Word. The moodiest track comes courtesy of Doomtree producer Lazerbeak, with "Girl Trouble" laces a tale of heartbreak over fractured vibraphone lines. Guest spots come courtesy of Dessa, P.O.S., Snakebird and New MC, with P.O.S. and Snakebird's appearance on "Solid" a particular highlight. Overall, it's a solid collection of tunes, even if it's not particularly adventurous. The slower tunes ("Undercurrent") drag the middle of the disc down a little, but the inclusion of MCs from across the spectrum of local acts, from Kanser to Doomtree, shows yet again how impressively open-minded the scene here is. Another fine brick in the wall of worthy local hip-hop discs.

Southerly
Best Dressed and Expressionless

The deaths of close friends and loved ones can have very different effects on people. Whereas the Arcade Fire harnessed their collective grief into the sprawling mess of Funeral, Madison, Wisc., native Krist Krueger has channeled the loss of the three close friends and his grandmother into the more focused Best Dressed and Expressionless. He shares the Montrealers hope for the future, but Southerly sounds more like Damien Rice’s O or Jeremy Enigk’s solo album The Frog Prince, with the sound firmly rooted in acoustic guitars and folk, while sidestepping the usual pitfalls of folk-rock. Unusually, Krueger’s voice is reminiscent of Big Bad Voodoo Daddy’s Scotty Morris which keeps the proceedings from descending into banality. BDAE has a cinematic scope, running from the tenderness of “Accidental II” to the bitter Radiohead-referencing “You did it to yourself/ You and no one else” of “Melissa” to the New Orleans-funereal horn section of “Ceremony.” It’s a credit to Krueger that he keeps the ship on course for the whole ride, crafting a sensitive and cathartic album that’s worthy of repeated listens. ||