When the tracklisting was revealed for Peter Gabriel's covers project, a lot of jaws dropped. It always seemed like Gabriel was one to ignore trends, finding inspiration in the oddest of spaces. With covers of Arcade Fire, Bon Iver, Radiohead and others, it turns out Peter Gabriel is more like Davids Bowie and Byrne (both covered here as well) and is in tune with the indie rock trends. Adding to the attraction of the track list is Gabriel's refined voice and the orchestral arrangements, adding up to something that needs to be heard. At least once. I'm afraid, though, that this is not an album you can listen to a lot. Separately, the songs have a certain novelty factor, but after that wears off, they don't beat the originals. Again, though, this is an album that needs to be heard.
When this Blood Brothers and Pretty Girls Make Graves union came up, you would've never expected this radical evolution to electro-punk. Of course, now that the Pretty Girls Make Graves element (Jay Clark) has been extracted from the equation, I guess anything is possible. Aside from the heavily effected guitars from Cody Votolato, the album is all electronically driven. Throw in the always recognizable vocals from Johnny Whitney and this is a freakishly good time. Just skip the bonus track. That's no way to treat "Piece of My Heart."
It's a deep week for releases, topped by the latest Swedish pop star to grace our shores, Lykke Li, and the debut of Jaguar Love (The Blood Brothers rise again). Elsewhere there are new releases from Stereolab, Delta Spirit (an early look,) Ra Ra Riot, Juliana Hatfield, The Stills, Jennifer O'Connor, Don Caballero, Uh Huh Her, Jeff Hanson, David Byrne, Human Highway and the great reissue of the 1970 cult classic from the enigmatic Rodriguez.
The 22-year old Swedish former professional dancer has created an album beyond her years, swirling together the pop sounds of her countrywomen (Robyn, El Perro Del Mar, Anna Ternheim) while injecting a bit more into the equation, and for the longest time, I couldn't figure out what that 'more' exactly was. Sure, Björn Yttling (Peter, Bjorn & John) co-wrote and produced the spare sound, but it wasn't until I noticed that two of Lykke's favorite artists are Madonna and Tom Waits that it all started to make sense. The Madonna thing has been brought up before, but it's the Waits influence that makes her sound different. Instead of a junkyard for rhythmic sounds, Lykke seems to be hanging out in a child's music room, employing instruments that are both cute and don't quite work like their adult counterparts do. Much as been made about her advance single, "Little Bit," with it's suggestive lyrics, and Lykke seems to recreate that magic in many of the other songs, like "Dance, Dance, Dance" and "I'm Good, I'm Gone" but there are also misteps here that almost derail the whole effort ("Complaint Department," two spoken word pieces too many). Still, given that she's so new to songwriting, it's easy to forgive her for indulging. Can't help looking forward to seeing what she does on her second album.
It's an old story, really. Man records record. No one buys it. Records another one. No one buys it. Moves on to do other things. Then, unbeknownst to him, he becomes an underground star in South Africa. Sixto Diaz Rodriguez lived out this age old story (with a twist) and his album Cold Fact (1970) finally gets a reissue (first time on CD here in the US) this week. Rodriguez comes off like a cross between Bob Dylan, Donovan and Arthur Lee of Love, mixing poetic folk with drug-fueled psychedelica, as best exemplified in the opening track, "Sugar Man":
Sugar man met a false friend On a lonely dusty road Lost my heart when I found it It had turned to dead black coal Silver magic ships you carry Jumpers, coke, sweet Mary Jane
The plaintiff folk however quickly gives way to the power chord attack of "Only Good for Conversation," and it's at this point you realize that this is truly a special album. "My statue's got a concrete heart / But you're the coldest bitch I know -- so help me". Motown guitarist Dennis Coffey discovered him in a club, playing with his back to the audience and coaxed him into the studio, backed by Motown's Funk Brothers, to record Cold Fact, adding a nice punch to his otherwise plaintive protest folk. It's a story and album that's done justice by Light in the Attic's usual attention to detail in liner notes and packaging, as is their specialty. Now that Rodriguez has toured Australia (1981, playing with the likes of Split Enz, Men at Work and Midnight Oil) and South Africa (1997, documented in the documentary, Dead Men Don't Tour,) one hopes he'll soon make the rounds here as well.
Rising from the ashes of the much beloved The Blood Brothers comes Jaguar Love, and as much as I like their debut Take Me to the Sea, I know it's bound to disappoint folks on both sides of the BB aisle (those who like, those who don't really know). The upper-register vocals of Johnny Whitney along with Cody Votolato's guitar work make the Blood Brothers' connection unmistakable, but it's lean to pop conventions are bound to frustrate more than a few hardline BB fans, which is too bad. Meanwhile, folks not accustomed to Whitney's vocals are usually repelled instantly (again, too bad). "Vagabond Ballroom" reminds me of the mighty aMiniature (with an organ,) "Highways of Gold" might be as close to conventional as The Blood Bros. ever got, and there's even a ballad, "Georgia," which is rightfully earned by the surrounding moments of sonic brilliance. Because everyone knows ballads are a privilege, not a right.