Hope Sandoval & the Warm Inventions

Bavarian Fruit Bread
Hope Sandoval & the Warm Inventions
Rough Trade Records
http://www.roughtraderecords.com

This is the first full-length solo release from the former Mazzy Star vocalist (she released the EP At The Doorway Again last year) and while the presence of Mazzy guitarist and composer David Roeback is missed, fans of their spacey, ethereal sound will most likely find Bavarian Fruit Bread pleasing. Sandoval has always sounded as if she was awoken from a deep nap to sing, rubbing sleep out of her eyes and trying to light a cigarette while lush chords swelled around her. No different here, although the music on most of the cuts sounds rather one-dimensional, existing only as the sparest backing for Sandoval’s wonderful voice. On the cuts “Butterfly Mornings” and “Charlotte” Bert Jansch (Pentangle) provides guitar, and provides a fullness and complexity to the songs that the rest of the record lacks. This is not to say the record is poor- Sandoval’s voice is enough to warrant repeated listening, particularly when it’s late at night and most of the wine is gone- but after a bit, you begin to miss the sonic foolery of David Roeback. Sandoval is joined by former My Bloody Valentine drummer and lyricist Colm O’Ciosoig, but since there doesn’t seem to be any apparent drums on the record, you might wonder what his contribution was, but no matter. Hit play, lay back on large pillows, and float.

Originally published Amplifier, 2001

Jerry Garcia/David Grisman

Grateful Dawg — The Original Motion Picture Soundtrack
Jerry Garcia/David Grisman
Acoustic Disc

It can certainly be argued that Jerry Garcia and The Grateful Dead did as much to introduce bluegrass to the masses as anyone in the last 30 years. The crowd at a recent Sam Bush concert looked (and acted) like one you would see at a Dead show — tapers abounded, hacky sacks got kicked. Garcia’s “Friend of the Devil” has become a bluegrass jam standard, and some of The Dead’s finer moments came from their treatment of bluegrass classics.

Garcia wanted as a youth to become a Bluegrass Boy — that is, a member of Bill Monroe’s band. Lacking the nerve to ever introduce himself to Big Mon, he instead found like-minded individuals and began to jam. The most fruitful meeting might have been his encounter with mandolinist David Grisman in 1964. The two formed a life-long friendship and working relationship, forming the legendary “Old and In the Way” band — Garcia on banjo, Grisman on mandolin, Peter Rowan (a former Bluegrass Boy) on guitar, Vassar Clements on fiddle, and Jerry Kahn on bass. As the years went on, Garcia devoted his energies to The Dead, and Grisman developed his own style of music, known as “Dawg” music, a blend of bluegrass, jazz, and rock that revolutionized acoustic music.

Elk City: The Sea is Fierce EP

The Sea is Fierce EP
Elk City
Warm Electronic

Oh, what a joyful noise. Starting off with “Take Me Out,” that reminds one of vintage Crazy Horse — raging, washing guitars recorded incredibly loud that keeps on building and building until Renee LoBue’s glorious voice spirals above it all, a perfect complement. This five cut EP is almost as good as their debut album Status, one of last year’s great surprises. One of the standouts is a drop-dead take on the Galaxie 500 number “Strange.” As they did last year with “California Dreaming,” Elk City takes hold of the song and makes it personal, imprinting it with new sounds and emotions. One hopes that this EP is simply a placeholder until a new album appears (slated hopefully for early 2002) and a harbinger for things to come, because I like visiting Elk City.

Originally published Ink 19, 2001

Falun Gong’s Challenge to China

Falun Gong’s Challenge to China
Danny Schechter
Akashic Books

Subtitled “Spiritual Practice or ‘Evil Cult‘,” this report and reader could go a long way to educating western minds to the exercise practice known as “Falun Gong” and the problems the group has suffered under the hands of the repressive Chinese government. The keyword here is “could.” Thousands of Falun Gong adherents have been jailed, detained, and in some cases killed in Chinese prisons, but worldwide media attention has been scant to their plight.

Falun Gong is a set of exercises with some minor philosophic commentary woven in — not exactly a force that will topple a government, correct? However benign the group is, the Chinese government seems focused on its destruction, declaring the group an “evil cult,” and outlawing it in 1999. China does not seem to like groups of people congregating for any reason, and the punishments it metes out for those who do so are harsh. This book is filled with accounts of people jailed and tortured for practicing Falun Gong, accounts that seem so extreme when read in a culture such as ours that allows free assembly and some measure of free speech. A list of resources are added for those who feel motivated upon reading the book, to do more.

Alejandro Escovedo with Kelly Hogan

Alejandro Escovedo
with Kelly Hogan
The Star Bar, Atlanta, GA December 1, 2001

It’s a treat catching either one of these performers, so getting to see both in the cozy confines of the Star Bar was an early Christmas present. Kelly appeared with longtime co-conspirator Andy Hopkins on guitar, and made material off her new Bloodshot release, Because It Feel Good, come alive. Her version of Randy Newman’s “Living Without You” was greatly moving, and the witty tribute to Benjamin and the Atlanta scene, “Sugarbowl” had those in the know clapping along. It’s one of the mysteries of our age why such a superb performer like Hogan isn’t more well known, but to those of us who have heard her, we’ll just keep her, how’s that?

Alejandro was, well Alejandro is always a cut above. Drawing heavily on material on his Bloodshot release, A Man Under the Influence, and older numbers, Escovedo and his band — Hector Munoz on drums, longtime cellist Brian Standefer, and Brian Solomon on keyboards and guitar — went easily from the tender “Follow You Down” to a grinding, gritty cover of The Gun Club’s “Sex Beat.” Escovedo seems at home playing most anything, and he doesn’t seem afraid to take chances. His most recent venture is mounting a play based on his father’s life By the Hand of the Father, and he promised the packed house that the play would indeed play Atlanta, which is something to look forward to. Come to think of it, anytime Al is around is something to look forward to.

Originally published Ink 19, 2001

Jay Farrar

Sebastopol
Jay Farrar
Artemis

Sure, he’s been hailed as a genius, or at least a legend. From the seminal group Uncle Tupelo that gave rise to the “alt country” movement (and No Depression magazine) to Son Volt, Farrar has long been known for his songcraft, which mixes elements as diverse as Bill Monroe and The Minutemen. But there has always been a feeling that Farrar has never been truly comfortable in whatever band setting he found himself. When Son Volt hit the scene with “Drown,” a cut that sounded unlike anything else on the band’s debut album, Trace, suddenly the retiring songwriter had a radio hit, and it seemed to push him even further away from the mainstream, instead of closer. The rest of Son Volt’s career seemed to be an exercise in chasing “Drown.” So it came as no surprise when Farrar put SV on hold to record his first solo record. For the first time, he is complete control of the musical paths a record takes, and it seems to suit him well. Surrounded by a talented (if eclectic) group of musicians including Superchunk drummer Jon Wurster, Flaming Lips keyboardist Steve Drozd, David Rawlings and Gillian Welch and slide guitarist Kelly Joe Phelps, Farrar has made one of the year’s best records — a record that in many ways comes closest to fulfilling the raves he has long garnered. Rules are broken, such as the distorted drums on the opening “Feel Free” or its two-note organ riff. Somehow it all meshes with Farrar’s rather impenetrable voice. “Voodoo Candle” features one of those choruses that any writer would die for, and comes closest to getting Farrar back on the radio, with its wall of guitars and nonsensical lyrics. Speaking of lyrics, “Barstow”‘s opening “Anyone caught speaking Esperanto/Is thought crazy or headed for jail” speaks volumes — Farrar may well consider himself speaking Esperanto (the universal language), and crazy to boot. Sounds fine to me.

Originally published Ink 19, 2001

Alison Krauss and Union Station

Alison Krauss and Union Station
with Tim Easton
The Fox Theatre, Atlanta, GA October 13, 2001

I made a startling conclusion a while back. I like hillbilly music. Sitting in a theatre watching O Brother Where Art Thou with my son, he noted the fact that I was singing along (poorly, he had to add) to most of the songs. “Big Rock Candy Mountain,” “Man of Constant Sorrow,” “You Are My Sunshine” — hell, I knew them all. In this age of cynical pop and gang recruitment rap, I rediscovered my love of what has come to be known as “roots music.” Still can’t sing it a lick, but I find myself listening to more and more of it.

One person who can sing it is Alison Krauss. Graced with an angel’s voice and none-too-shabby fiddling skills, Krauss has become a star in a form of music that most people — at least, the people who read and write for magazines like this one — have long overlooked. She became the youngest member of the Grand Old Opry ever when she joined at age 22, and since then has released several good selling albums featuring her crack band, anchored by Dan Tyminski, former member of The Lonesome River Band, and more notably, the singing voice of George Clooney in O Brother. So when Krauss played the Fox, I went. So did a lot of other people — the show was a near sellout.

Ignorance is Not Bliss

Ignorance is Not Bliss

Watching the clouds of smoke billow over New York and Washington was a sobering sight. Although I personally haven’t learned of anyone I knew that is missing after the attacks, due to the sheer number of people in the World Trade Center, a macabre version of “six degrees of separation” will undoubtedly find everyone in this country connected in someway to one of the lost. Of course, in a larger sense, we are all only one degree away — any attack on an American is an attack on us all, any affront to a human being is an affront to all. Many outcomes of this aggression are being bandied about, from US strikes on “those who harbor terrorists” (which would include most of the civilized world), to “bomb them back to the stone age” (they are already there, thanks in large part to Soviets a few years back). Closer to home, Attorney General John Ashcroft wants greater powers to conduct intelligence, including the expanded use of wiretapping and surveillance. And according to many polls, most Americans are just fine with whatever the powers that be deem necessary to keep this from happening again. They rush from prayer vigil to candlelight service, bedecked in Old Navy T-shirts with the American flag proudly displayed, the Stars and Stripes fluttering in the wind from the antenna of their gas-guzzling SUV. The world has a new Hitler in Osama bin Laden, the Taliban function quite well as Nazis.

Andrew Bird’s Bowl of Fire: The Swimming Hour

The Swimming Hour
Andrew Bird’s Bowl of Fire
Rykodisc

They oughta put Andrew Bird in the freakin’ Smithsonian — he’s a national treasure. Not only does he help form the Squirrel Nut Zippers, he also finds time to release records like this little bit of odd genius. Seemingly at home playing anything from fuzzed-out ’60s psych rock (“Two Way Action”) or Delta 72-inspired organ raunch (“How Indiscreet”), Bird and his army of violins have made a musical universe that no one else inhabits, and unless Django Reinhart and Syd Barrett record together, ain’t nobody gonna be joining him anytime soon. This record features vocals from Nora O’Connor, who was the best thing about The Blacks until she left. Nora adds a touch of wide-eyed lust to the proceedings, and plays off Bird’s shy, slightly bizarre stance perfectly. This is a record that grows on you, its boozy charms becoming more apparent the longer you know it. Thank heavens for Andrew Bird.

Originally published Ink 19, 2001

Boom Boom No More: John Lee Hooker, 1917-2001

Boom Boom No More
John Lee Hooker, 1917-2001

The world is a quieter, calmer place since John Lee Hooker passed away Thursday night. He was 83, and just laid down and never woke up. But up until that point, in his trademark hat and shiny suit, Hooker wrote one of the major chapters of the book of the blues. With songs such as “Boogie Chillun,” “Boom Boom,” and “Dimples,” he growled his way into the elite, influencing all bluesmen that would follow, and quite a few rockers, as well. Led Zeppelin owes a large part of their early sound to him, and they damn sure made more money recycling it than he did inventing it.

In the early 1980s, I had the good fortune to work for an Atlanta blues band called The Heartfixers. Led by Tinsley Ellis and featuring former Muddy Waters harp player Chicago Bob Nelson on vocals, The ‘Fixers were an incredible band, the real deal. One of the greatest thrills we enjoyed was two nights we spent as the opening act for John Lee Hooker. The first show at the long-defunct Rumors in Atlanta was an eye-opening experience. Backstage before the show, Hooker sat in an easy chair while streams of fans brought albums and posters for him to sign. His guitarist/road manager stood beside him, and when John Lee would take a record from a fan, he would hold it up to his guitarist, who would say “yes” or “no.” For the ones that garnered a “yes,” Hooker would scrawl a sloppy signature. These were the albums that he actually got paid for by one of the dozens of record labels that released his music. But if the item fell into the “no” category, he would only mark an “X.” These albums were ones that had stolen his songs and never paid him, and he didn’t really admit to their existence.