Pretty & Nice -- Get Young (2008)

Pretty & Nice -- Get Young (Hardly Art)

Hey, it’s an arty pop band! Pretty & Nice like the ol’ herky-jerk, mixing dissonant chords and riffs with wonderful melodies. This album merits comparisons to early XTC, Lilys The Sugarplastic and 10CC, among others. If that sounds appealing, you may have a new favorite band.

The album gets off to a great start with the dissonant (hard to find a synonym for that) yet poppy “Piranha”. The band alternates a noisy guitar clang with sweet melodic bursts, with the seeming mess resolving itself in a swell twee pop chorus.

The band then finds a mid-point between Futureheads and Field Music on “Hideaway Tokyo”. A robust guitar part rides over art-pop undercurrents, while somehow the band manages to tuck in a verse that is simulataneously aggressive and pastoral. And this is all crammed into two minutes without feeling overstuffed.

Not everything is go go go. “Pixies” works mid-tempo magic with a repetitive damaged blues rock guitar part. Again, the juxtaposition is what makes it work, as the band shifts into pixie mode (by that I mean purty music) while singing “fly away you pixies.” Like the band the Pixies, Pretty & Nice know how to work dynamics. But they like to go from loud to soft, rather than the other way around.

The great thing about this approach is that it allows for a lot of variations. So the band easily carries ten songs in just a bit shy of 28 minutes. This 2008 release should not be overlooked, as this band has plenty of energy and ideas, a great combination.

Rusty Willoughby -- Filament Dust (2008)

Rusty Willoughby -- Filament Dust (self released)

I liked Rusty Willoughby’s work in Pure Joy, and the first two albums by his old band Flop are about as good as punky pop ever gets. So it was a pleasant surprise to find this solo disc in one of the used bins at the Hollywood Amoeba Records. Just looking at the songs on the disc, I knew this would be a different sort of album. A Jimmy Rodgers song, a classic Bob Dylan folk tune and a Beatles number indicated this would not be balls out rock.

Indeed, Willoughby is now purveying moody folk music. He still sings in that high adolescent voice, which works better with this type of material than one might suspect. For the most part, the songs are short and melt into one another. Throughout the disc, Willoughby is wholly engaged in the material. He may be strumming an acoustic guitar, but the same passion that was on display on the loudest Flop song comes through in more of a slow burn fashion.

Willoughby’s original songs seems inspired by John Lennon, with a touch of Dylan. He often adds just a bit of reverb to his voice, which stands out starkly over his guitar. I think his two best compositions are on the second half of the disc.

First, there’s “Where are The Knives”. This is a folk-blues with cryptic lyrics. Willoughby sings of a relationship that may turn out fatal, which might not be a problem: “he’d give that to her/if she’d ask nice.” The song fades out while Willoughby is starting the next verse, as an interlude called “Interlude” provides a pastoral break.

Willoughby comes back on the title cut, which is another folk-blues. He adds extra reverb to his vocals, making this sound like an overmodulated radio transmission. This obviously puts his voice in the center, and his phrasing and enunciation wavers and punctuates, teeming with emotion. Again, the lyrics turn fatalistic: “I really didn’t want to cry/but all you really wanna do is die.” And this segues into a haunting version of The Beatles’ “Cry Baby Cry”.

Willoughby also does a great version of Bob Dylan’s “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll”. He adds some fake applause to simulate a live audience. But the canned clapping makes it sound like this is being performed live from limbo. He emulates Dylan’s phrasing, to a degree, but because his vocal quality is so different, it gives the song a fresh feel.

And feel is really the key to this album. Willoughby’s originals fit in well with the Dylan, Rodgers and other traditional songs. His production choices set a mood and tone that make this album all the more compelling. It’s not quite psychedelic, not quite gothic, but it is dramatic.

I’m so glad to rediscover a favorite artist. I never would have guessed he’d go in this direction, it’s now my turn to catch up on what I missed.

Raphael Saadiq, Park West (Chicago), March 12, 2009

Nearing the end of his 70 minute set at Park West, Raphael Saadiq took the time during an instrumental breakdown, to make a little speech about the music that he plays. His 2008 release, The Way I See It has been praised and tagged as a retro item. But Saadiq explained that what he's doing isn't retro -- he's been playing this music since he was 7 years old (that's 35 years, folks
!). He described himself as a running back, whose offensive line included Marvin Gaye, Otis Redding, Eddie Kendricks and other soul legends.

And Saadiq's point is well taken. Ever since he arrived on the scene fronting Tony! Toni! Tone! in the late '80s, he has always been a purveyor of classic R & B.

His love and knowledge of R & B was evident in the expert show that he put on. Augmented by a six-piece band (bass, guitar, drums, keys and horns) and two back up singers, all decked out in dress shirts and ties, Saadiq brought the soul revue into the 21st Century. He was particularly debonair, in his gold suit. Saadiq and his backing vocalists (one male and one female) executed choreographed dance moves that brought back memories of The Temptations and other groups from the Motown school.

The band started things off with an instrumental version of "Aquarius" (from Hair). The band then kicked into "Keep Marchin'", and the show took off immediately. Saadiq has so thoroughly absorbed so many influences that rarely are his individual songs derivative. I hear bits of Marvin Gaye, Sly Stone, James Brown, Motown, Sam Cooke and others, but never to the point where they overwhelm the song.

And Saadiq still sings with a sunny boyish tenor that isn't powerful, but is so expressive. His phrasing and timing are so good and he's even found a way to sound like a credible lover man.

While the show centered around his newer material, there was a lengthy medley where he hit on songs from throughout his career, including some of the songs he's written for other artists. That 15 minute stretch was extremely impressive.

The set had a great flow to it, as he mixed pure R & B work outs with simmering funk and creamy ballads. I must admit that I came into this show cold. I went because of raves from Anna (Tallboy Records) Borg and Shawn Campbell, the president of the Chicago Independent Radio Project. Therefore, I can't ID many songs, though I bought a CD at the merch table.

And can say that his band was so good, especially the rhythm section. This is particularly evident comparing the recorded version of the slinky "Let's Take a Walk" with the powerhouse live performance, where the drummer gave the song twice the power.

Because the set was so well balanced, the audience got more involved with each minute. The 70 minute set was followed by a 20 minute encore, highlighted by the New Orleans inspired "Big Easy".

The near sell out crowd left the venue floating. I was really heartened by the crowd, as it showed that classic soul music could survive and thrive in this modern era. I don't mean that as a knock on contemporary R & B -- since the late '80s, R & B has struggled with relevance in the hip-hip era, and this has resulted in some good things and some bad. R & B is still moving forward. But we need artists like Saadiq to keep reminding us where it comes from and why we should celebrate that.

Does M.I.A.'s choice of mate undercut her message?

It's interesting to read a British take on The Clash. Here in America, they didn't break until London Calling, and their politics were just part of their identity, which was equally defined by their catholic musical tastes and cuddly singles like "Train in Vain" and "Should I Stay or Should I Go?". But in the land of the band's origin, some true punks thought the band was nearly an instant sell out. The Clash's crime? Signing with CBS Records, a major label.

This argument has cropped up from time to time with respect to other artists with a political message, such as Rage Against The Machine. I think it's a false premise. Maybe it's an entertainment version of capitalism being its own gravedigger, but if a band has a social or political message, there's nothing wrong about utilizing a corporation to help spread the message. As long as the affiliation does not compromise the message, then the band has made the right decision.

But can an artist compromise her message by her choice of life partner? I'm a big fan of M.I.A. I think that her records are dazzling. She works with many collaborators to create a real world music, mixing all sorts of cultures into thrilling pop.

M.I.A. got her start in the art world before she started making music. The visuals are as striking as the finished tracks themselves. Moreover, she has made political noises. She has especially pushed the fact that her father was a Tamil rebel in Sri Lanka (she was actually born in London, and her parents moved back to Sri Lanka when she was an infant). M.I.A. has used this to give her music some political context.

So this daughter of a Sri Lankan rebel just had a baby with her fiance, Benjamin Brewer. Brewer is a member of the band The Exit (yeah, I've never heard of them either). I can safely say that no matter how good or bad The Exit is, the band will get a record contract. That's because Brewer's daddy is Edgar Bronfman, the head of WMG, the gigantic entertainment conglomerate. The Bronfman family made its fortune with Seagram's, the whiskey/alcoholic beverage company.

Of course, everyone should wish the couple the best, particularly now that M.I.A. and Benjamin are parents. I hope they are truly in love and that their love grows over the years.

But once M.I.A. marries into one of the wealthiest families in the world, will this make it tougher to accept any political messages in her music? Will her calls for "third world democracy" lose credibility when she's now filthy rich (even after a pre-nup) and part of a clan who haven't done much to help the poor?

To put it another way, would The Clash have blown it if Joe Strummer was seen partying with Liz Taylor or denizens of Studio 54? I think the answer to that is yes. If you're a man or woman of the people, you've got to put up some boundaries to keep it real. Heck, no matter how asinine Bono is, he doesn't get caught in either celebrity culture or flaunting opulent wealth.

Now I may very well be overstating things. M.I.A.'s lyrical content does not even measure up to Public Enemy, a band that sometimes rapped more about being political than actually rapping about politics (and I say that as a big fan of PE). But even if her lyrics aren't always up to snuff in this category, her music actually is in the same vein of what The Clash was doing with Sandinista.

It's possible that once M.I.A. is a Bronfman by marriage that she may be able to use this status and wealth as a platform to act on issues that she's alluded to in her music and interviews. If so, then her current artistic stance will be bolstered. But if that doesn't happen, I might be a lot more skeptical of her future endeavors.

The Handcuffs -- Electroluv

The Handcuffs -- Electroluv (OOFL)

The second Handcuffs album finds Chloe F. Orwell and Brad Elvis (who goes full name on the credits – Brad Elvis Steakley) continuing to expand their musical palette. Meanwhile, Brad Elvis shows yet again that he’s a wiseacre emeritus, as his lyrics are clever and witty (though sometimes, they fall a bit short. That’s the risk you take when you go clever). Moreover, Elvis, who is one of the flashiest drummers around, does not show off, doing what is necessary to make the song better.

Of course, Orwell can make most songs better. I am not the only writer who makes the inevitable Deborah Harry comparison. This is because Chloe has a great voice and brings an actor’s touch to the songs, providing the right attitude or feel to each tune.

A great example of this can be found on the third and fourth cuts on the disc. “I Just Wanna’ Be Free, Man” is a glam rock stomp (with an appropo “Jean Genie” reference) that allows Orwell to strut her sassy stuff. This is a particularly well produced track, as it crackles with electricity of a live show.

The next song shows off a much softer side. “Turn It Up” is a piano based mid-tempo number, and Orwell is as tender as can be. This is a dramatic song which builds to a great finale. Before getting there, Orwell plays a nice vibraphone solo (!), which is a sweet respite before the urgent pleading at the end. “Wonderful Life” isn’t as stirring, but it’s also a good change of pace from the more upbeat offerings surrounding it.

That includes the silly “Baby Boombox”, which is grounded in Brad Elvis’s rumbling drum beat with deft bass accompaniment by Casey McDonough. And Orwell’s flute adds an odd touch to this percussive track. The song is about a guy who’s truly into music, from his thousands of vinyl records, his reel to reel tape collection and the boom box with a Clash sticker on it. Super fun.

Of course, that could apply to most of the tracks on this disc, from the adrenalized power pop of “Gotta’ Problem With Me” (which sounds like a Cheap Trick-y remnant from Brad and Chloe’s Big Hello days) to the galloping piano pop of the driving “Half a Mind”.

The only songs that don’t do it for me are “Fake Friends”, which, compared to “Turn It Up”, is overly dramatic. It’s kind of in the vein of Pat Benatar’s “Fire and Ice”, but it’s a tad too much for me. Then “God is Sure One Funny Girl” takes a T. Rex riff and applies it to a lyrical concept that just doesn’t work. The song just doesn’t flow.

I find that on every album from Brad and Chloe there’s a track or two that doesn’t click. I think it’s because they aren’t just rewriting the same songs over and over. Yes, there is a style and sensibility at work that holds all of it together, but they are really about new ideas, whether it’s a new lyrical conceit or some new riff or arrangement that will expand their sound. In other words, they don’t believe in filler. But the price of having ideas, is that not every one will work.

When I listen to The Handcuffs, I’m well aware that a lot of their favorite artists are mine too. Unlike some bands that settle for imitation, Elvis and Orwell know that the reason their influences sounded so good was because they kept trying new things. So they do the same. The result is yet another swell album.

The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart -- The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart

The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart -- The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart (Slumberland)

For whatever reason, my initial reaction to this young band’s homage to British late-‘80s indie pop was pretty sour. I couldn’t deny that the music was enticing and, at times, quite catchy. Yet the band seemed to be a bit lacking in the personality department, with wan vocals that barely stood out amongst the prominent guitars.

Then I looked at the lyric sheet. And once I grasped what they were singing, my feelings changed. As carefree and innocent as these songs sound on the surface, there is little that is pure about this crew. Moreover, I have to admit that The Pains mastered this classic sound.

Perhaps the less cynical among you will connect sooner than I did. The track that turned the trick for me was “This Love Is Fucking Right!”. This song makes Prince’s “Sister” seem tame. This is a tale of sibling lust, with the brother essentially giving a pep talk to his sister/lover. The song sails in on a bed of strumming guitars with a subtly insistent rhythm section propelling the track. Lead singer Kip Berman, with backing from keyboardist Peggy Wang, explains how the rough sex they had is better than what she gets from her husband. If that isn’t enough, he concludes: “Can you go home/look your best friend in the eye?/No you can’t go home/after where you slept last night.” Now I don’t condone what this song is about, but the mix of sweet poppy rock and disgusting salacious lyrics is pretty cool.

Sex and death permeate the lyrics, though rarely are they as distinctive as on “Fucking Right!” I do like the sex in the library plot of “Young Adult Friction”. Riding a beat and bed of guitars that could have fueled a Primitives song, Kip sings in a fey voice: “I never thought I would come of age/let alone on a moldy page/you put your back to the spines/and you said it was fine.” You think it would be tough to have a quickie in a place where it’s so quiet.

Meanwhile, the band moves into “Pink Turns Into Blue” territory on “A Teenager in Love”. I only mean that in terms of subject matter. The music is twinky Motown meets ‘80s Brit indie pop. The jauntiness supports a song about a gal who OD’d: “A teenager in love with Christ and heroin.”

Though I like the sour words and sweet music, over the course of an album it can only take things so far. Every song here is very attractive and made for blasting out in the summer (and since I’m from Chicago, I’m hoping we have a sunny warm day by August in which to do so). But the music sounds great at the moment, but it doesn’t always resonate.

Only on “The Tenure Itch” does the music really stick. The snappy drums and the keyboard backing, which suggests strings and horns (in the vein of China Crisis) give this a bit more lasting power. And when the band turns up the fuzz and rocks out on “Hey Paul”, I wish they’d do that more frequently.

The great news is that the Pains have released a fun debut album and have room to grow. So this isn’t Sliced Bread, 21st Century Version, but if you can get over that, you can accept this for the pop platter it is and hope for even better things next time.

Song Sung Blue

Song Sung Blue (2008)

Milwaukee may not be our largest city, but it has inspired two documentaries about ordinary people following their dreams in the entertainment world. First it was American Movie, about aspiring filmmaker Mark Borchardt. This time around, Brew City is the setting for Song Sung Blue, which follows Mike and Claire Sardina, who performed around the city as Lightning & Thunder, a Neil Diamond tribute act.

The beginning of the movie, for the most part, is a whirlwind. An array of performance clips and interviews establish that Lightning & Thunder had a legitimate following in Milwaukee. Sure, there is a cheese factor to watching Lightning with his buxom blonde back up singer, but there's no denying that this was as sincere a tribute as could be. Lightning has Neil Diamond's phrasing and tone down fairly well, and is a big ham, making for a solid musical experience and a lot of fun.

Lightning & Thunder reached an apex in 1995, when Eddie Vedder invited them to perform a song during Pearl Jam's set at Milwaukee's Summerfest. Lightning relates that Vedder wanted them to perform "Song Sung Blue", but Lightning nixed that, explaining that "Forever in Blue Jeans" was the right song for the Pearl Jam crowd. The footage of Vedder singing with the duo is hilarious, but the 30,000 or so in attendance ate it up.

But this movie isn't really about the act. It's a love story about an inseparable couple who lived for performing. There is no doubt they love each other, but a large part of the love was fueled by the magic they created (and felt) on stage.

So when an elderly driver drove up on the Sardina lawn while Claire was mowing it, she lost part of her left leg, which caused a downward spiral from which she and her husband/partner had a hard time recovering from. The giddy energy of the movie grinds to a halt, as the travails of the Sardinas are often painful to watch.

The pair allowed director Greg Kohs extraordinary access during this terrible period. Moreover, Mike Sardina kept his video camera running during some of the most awkward moments. In one particularly chilling home video, Claire delivers a holiday message that almost seems like a suicide note of sorts.

This section of the movie might go on a bit long, but what is remarkable is how the Sardinas ultimately endure. And they keep the dream alive. A prosthetic leg and a near complete dissipation of their audience during their lost years is no deterrent. Even more remarkable is it becomes apparent that their sole livelihood was Lightning & Thunder.

At this point, I'd have to travel to Spoiler City to go on about the movie. Let me just say that there are more ups and downs, and by the end of the movie, I was far from the only one who had failed to hold back the tears.

The movie is full of local flavor, whether Kohs takes a detour to Neil Diamond's favorite frozen custard spot in Milwaukee or gets insight from an array of local characters who knew Lightning & Thunder. For example, a member of the odd-rock band The Frogs has a great anecdote about Lightning's sort of meeting with Neil Diamond.

I was fortunate to see this at a festival screening. After the movie, Kohs, Thunder and her daughter (a teen in the movie, a young adult now) took some questions, and Thunder even gave us a rendition of Patsy Cline's "Walking After Midnight".

Kohs noted that the movie almost didn't get played at Slamdance. He was having trouble getting the music licensing cleared. With things coming down to the wire, he called in a favor from the number one Lighting & Thunder fan in the world, Eddie Vedder.

Vedder got on the horn with Neil Diamond and a copy of the movie was shipped to the living legend. Soon thereafter, Kohs got a call from one of Neil's people: Neil wanted the movie to show at Slamdance.

Maybe Eddie and Neil can now find a way to get this movie into general release. While they're at it, they should write a song about Mike and Claire. It would be perfect for two of the most dramatic singers of the past couple of generations.