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Twin Town High (vol. 8) |
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'Round the Dial: 'Hawks and handsaws
Wednesday 15 November @ 13:36:43 |
 
BY TOM HALLETT
QUOTE OF THE WEEK: "It is inevitable that some defeat will enter even the most victorious life. The human spirit is never finished when it is defeated ... it is finished when it surrenders." -Ben Stein
SONG OF THE WEEK: "I’d Go The Whole Wide World" -Reckless Eric
Hey, hey, music-lovers- hope you’re all prepped for a long winter of dancin’, drinkin’ an’ diggin’ live indoor gigs- I know I am. We’ve got about three to four inches of snow up here in Homer, Alaska, with lots more predicted for later in the week. Me, I’m happy as fuck-all that I have so much great music to help me plod through the whole slushy mess.
And that’s why I’m here for you this week- to recommend a couple more must-have additions to your personal musical library before it just gets too plain miserable to even trudge to the record shop and pick ‘em up. Hey- at this pace I might even get through the stack of albums for review that are literally piled so high they’re falling off of my desk before the New Year!! Wouldn’t that be a doozy for once? Awright then, without further ado- here are my picks for this week...
Tim O’ Reagan
Self-Titled
2006
Lost Highway Records
It’s not like Tim O’ Reagan- drummer/singer/songwriter for Twin Cities über-pop wonders The Jayhawks- hasn’t already proven his mettle as a frontman. One listen to "Bottomless Cup" (from The Sound Of Lies) or "Tampa To Tulsa" (from Rainy Day Music) settles that question right from the get-go. The great thing about this album is that, although the Jayhawks themselves are all over the record, the band gracefully steps back into the shadows and allows Tim to use their individual talents to flesh out his already-fantastic vision.
And what a vision it is- I have to say that, while I love the hell out of Rainy Day Music, this album is way more where I’m at emotionally and soul-wise at the moment. Tim has an understated, calming method of writing, singing and playing that almost elevates this batch of songs to the status of musical holiness. I’m not kidding. There are songs on here that you’ll hear one time and love forever, and others you’ll whip by, then listen to slower, later and calmer, and wonder why the fuck you didn’t realize how GREAT it really was/is.
Kicking off with the smooth, layered ballad "These Things," O’Reagan immediately establishes the mood of this record- he’s going to be telling you the Truth, whether you want to hear it or not, and he does it in a way that makes it not only easy to swallow but mighty tasty goin’ down. I am just absolutely in love with lines like, "I’m lookin’ still / Sunshine or pills / I’m lookin’ ‘til / ’Til I find you / These things will do ..."
O’Reagan’s easy-going, pleasantly dry sense of humor is in evidence here as well- the track is heavy with loneliness and longing, yet near the end you hear a care-free, damn-it-all-anyway whistle that rides the melancholy, soft rhythm of the song ‘til fade-out. Easy strumming, angelic backing vocals, and heart-stopping lyrics make this one of the best tracks on the collection- and that’s not said lightly, as every song needs to be heard.
All the special guests you can imagine abound here, as well- Son Volt co-founder Jim Boquist, Jayhawks alum Karen Grotberg pitches in piano and vocals, head ‘Hawk Gary Louris and compatriots Marc Perlman and Mike "Razz" Russell contribute various lofty additions, and the list goes on and on. And yeah, they all do go above and beyond to make this a killer outing, but I have to reiterate here that this is really Tim O’ Reagan’s album- his voice, his ideas, his vision and, in the end, his crowning achievement to date.
Other standouts on here include the dreamy "River Bends," the heart-in-your-throat ballad "Highway Flowers" and the Gram Parsons-meets-George-Harrison ditty "That’s The Game." Eerie, ghostly echoes chime through gorgeous tracks like "Ivy," which on the surface could be a girl’s name (and might be) but on closer listen reveals Tim’s undeniable talent for taking an ordinary subject and turning it inside out: "... what’s behind the ivy? / What’s behind the tears ..." he nearly weeps, then flips the tale to make the song’s subject question their own intentions and dreams. Powerful stuff.
I also really like the jingle/jangle strut of "Girl/World," which rings out like a long-lost jukebox nugget and once again finds Tim mentioning flowers (flowers, girls and pills play a big part of these lyrics, and I for one find them universal and comforting- thank you, Tim) and morphing what could be a warning/plea for sanity into a question she has to ask herself. I wouldn’t wanna mess with this guy on the wrong side of a psychiatrist’s couch- I bet he’s the group philosopher/psychologist no matter what band he’s in. Smart cat.
I have to mention my fave on here though. I must have listened to the song six times on repeat the very first time I heard it, and even sat through and wrote down the lyrics while attempting (thank god no tape was rolling) to sing along with it. The cut "Anybody’s Only" is so heavenly, so powerful, so RIGHTEOUS that I really and truly believe no music lover can be complete without hearing it. There. I said it.
Rolling out of the gate on sly, roiling guitars, Tim sings in that low, sexy style he’s damn near patented with the ‘Hawks- background singers like a choir at God’s own musical altar- the drums, bass and rhythm in perfect synch. I often wish I could print the lyrics to whole songs in this column, and if there ever was one that needs it, it’s this one. Let me just go over the highlights, though- and fer Chrissakes get yourself a copy of this album.
"Pull yourself together," sings Tim, "Think before you speak / All your gritty sayings are making you sound weak / Look into my eyes / Are you lonely? / Are you ever gonna be anybody’s only?" Man, if that ain’t a rock n’ roll punch in the gut, I don’t know what is.
The song only gets better from there, but I love how O’Reagan compares matters of the heart to music near the end of the tune: "Well, your love is like a radio / No reception when the clouds are low / I’m tryin’ to give you a signal / But I just can’t get through- to you, to you, to you ..." Fucking brilliant. Find it, buy it, treasure it- go to losthighway.com or timoreagan.com and DO IT!!
 The Drams
Jubilee Dive
2006
New West Records
You probably remember country-fried Texas raunch n’ rollers The Drams better as Slobberbone, an outfit that melded the finest musical highlights of The Replacements with the hell-bent-for-leather back-porch stomp of prime-era Uncle Tupelo. Well, Brent Best and the boys (some of ‘em, at least- kickass lead guitarist Jess Barr and drummer Tony Harper are still hangin’ in there, while Best added a couple of no-bullshit newbies to the lineup in singer/keyboardist Chad Stockslager and singer/bassist Keith Killoran, both from Dallas’ Budapest One to complete this lineup) are back, and this album finds the outfit even more breathtaking, in time with one another, and lyrically spot-on than ever before.
While past outings had found Best singing the praises (or the downfalls) of the hard-livin’ life-style and penning amusing ditties to exes ("Gimme Back My Dog" still goes on mixes in my world), here we find him expanding and refining what’s already a mighty lyrical and vocal talent. While he makes no bones in the press kit about having fellow singers to help carry out his musical vision, Best’s -er- best qualities absolutely shine through on this album from start to finish.
Kicking off with the anti-commercial rocker "The Truth Lies Low," Jubilee Dive immediately incorporates all of the fresh elements that make for the improved (and I can’t believe I’m saying that as I LOVED Slobberbone and never thought they needed to do anything to make their shit any better- but there ya go) sound that wends its way like a live wire through this record. Production shouldn’t be taken lightly here, either- board-wiz Matt Pence found exactly the right mix of loud sadness that makes Best’s work (and that of his band) so immediate, memorable and perfectly, honestly conscious of itself. It’s a fantastic job in the studio- and one this band certainly deserved.
I’ll admit that I’m pretty much addicted to every track on this album, but I have to say the uplifting, reverent rock n’ roll ballad "Holy Moses" encapsulates exactly why Leonard Cohen wrote the line, "... there was a secret chord / that David played / and it pleased the Lord ..." Coming in on a martial snare roll and mysterious keyboard runs, the song kind of eases its way down your ears and past your heart and into your soul like a heartily-sung and well-meant Black Baptist Revival tune- if you crank this one up and DON’T get goosebumps, I feel for your soul, brother.
Other greats among a whole batch of ‘em include the catchy pop-rocker "Unhinged," wherein our protagonist tries to both tempt a love-broken acquaintance to get back in the ring and to catch him (or anybody who plays out live on a fucking Tuesday night during a snowstorm) playing out that evening: "There’s one tonight / If you care / There’s one tonight and I feel it ... there’s one tonight and guess who ... I’ll do anything to help you feel unhinged again ..." You know somebody like that, don’t you? Or you are somebody like that. This record fucking rules. If it’s not for you, it’s for somebody you know, or give a shit about.
Nary a stinker in the batch, and a perfect example of how an established band can re-work its lineup, learn a new pile o’ songs and hit the road sounding better than ever. The Drams may have changed their name, their lineup and their methods of (welcome) madness, but one thing hasn’t changed: These guys are for real, and they’re gonna keep comin’.
I think the band’s (and Best’s) philosophy is best epitomized in the deceptively simple ditty, "Fireflies," where a number that seems at first like just another love song turns into what just could be some of the best advice that you, or me, or any young band out there working their asses off for what Best and Co. are living right now could possibly take to heart: "... See the beauty being where you are / Appreciate the fireflies baby, just in case you never see the stars ..." I’ll drink a dram or two to that, boys. An exceptional album from an outfit who’ve only just begun to show their promise. Check it out at newwestrecords.com.
 Ween
Shinola
2005
Chocodog Records
I don’t know why it’s taken me forever to review this record- Christ, I’ve had it in my greasy lil’ palms for I don’t know how many moons now. And it’s not that I don’t like Ween- on the contrary, I fucking LOVE Ween. I saw two of their live sold-out shows at First Avenue a few years back, and wouldn’t trade their catalog for anything, even though my Ween collection takes up like half of my computer memory. Maybe I just figured that with so much good Ween shit out there, the Shinola could wait a while. I dunno- but here it is.
Shinola is a delish mish-mash of classic-sounding and fresh Ween material that faux brothers Gene and Dean have whipped up to keep fans happy until they can see their favorite stocking-cap bedecked rock heroes play another six hour, mushroom-and-beer-fueled live gig. And that’s a good thing.
"Good On The Bun" is in the aforementioned classic Ween camp, sorta silly, effect-laden jive that’s recorded and released just for fun- yours and theirs- like a lot of Ween material. "Boys Club" is a perfect example for those folks (mostly females, sorry girls but a lot of you don’t seem to get that Ween are actually NOT knuckle-dragging rock fuck-heads, but actually guys who write songs like "Homo Rainbow" and "Boys Club" to bring attention to the fact that most men ARE dickheads, and they KNOW IT. Dig deeper and you’ll see what I mean) who just don’t seem to understand Ween and what they’re all about.
To me, Ween are the perfect mix of Zappa-esque clowns, classic country saddle-rompers, badass rock gods, serious social commentators, and down-to-earth, from-the-gut musical pioneers. Go through their catalog- start anywhere- and tell me these guys are anything but geniuses- and if not, go ahead and write, play, sing and record an album that even approximates one of their lesser-loved efforts and let me hear the results. In other words, you do better, pal.
I’m not gonna go on and on here about each track, as most Ween fans already have this one and folks who don’t know much about the band can check out their singles online before deciding, but I did want to mention the track "Gabrielle," which I recently played on my pirate radio show back-to-back with Thin Lizzy’s "Rosalie." Why?
Because it was a perfect example of how Ween can morph from one moment/sound (the track before "Gabrielle" is called "Big Fat Fuck"- you get my point) and come off without sounding forced or phony or anything less than respectful. I guarantee you, Phil Lynott would fucking LOVE this song, and this band, and so would Zappa, and Hendrix and Beefheart before the mind cave-in, etc. etc. Ween rules. This album rocks. Check it out on their website at ween.com and see if I stretched the truth at all. Highly recommended.
That’s all for this time, kiddies. Whip yer dial back this way next week for more rants, raves an’ reviews- comin’ up, the new Matthew Ryan, loads of local releases, and very soon, ‘Round The Dial’s personal "Best Of Ought Six Music List." I’m sure you’re all on the edges of your seats, I know I am. Until we meet again- make yer own damn news.
If you have local music news/gigs/events/CDs you’d like to see mentioned in this space, or you’d just like to put some shimmy shimmy in my coco bop, send replies to: Tmygunn77764@yahoo.com. ||
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