Chris Isaak -- Mr. Lucky

Chris Isaak -- Mr. Lucky (Wicked Game/Reprise)

It’s been about eight years since Chris Isaak’s last album. So has he been keeping up with current music trends? Nope. Isaak knows what he does well and he keeps on doing it. This approach has yielded only a couple of great albums (his debut, Silvertone, and Forever Blue), but has rarely yielded a bad one.

As is often the case, absence has made my ears grow fonder. I’m a sucker for Isaak’s classic balladeering and Orbison-esque vocals. This album shows that Isaak knows his strengths and plays to them accordingly.

All Isaak needs is a downcast melody to brood to and some tasteful guitar, and a great song might emerge. That’s what happens on “We Let Her Down”. Isaak looks at a woman whose life goes array, and no one was there to help (yep, just like the title indicates). The music pulses and Isaak is given room to show that he can still cry with anguish, sustaining high notes for a long period of time. Sometimes, with the right voice, it doesn’t take much to make a great pop song, and this certainly is a great pop song.

Isaak tones things down just slightly on “You Don’t Cry Like I Do”. Here, Chris demonstrates once more why he’s been garnering Roy Orbison comparisons for over 20 years. He sounds pained as he sings the loser lyrics and then cuts loose on the chorus, and it is beautiful, sad and captivating.

Isaak has always balanced the moody songs that his voice demands be sung with some more playful material. There’s plenty of that here. “Take My Heart” has a Hawaiian feel, with cheesy backing vocals and jazzy guitar licks. Isaak breaks into a rockabilly shuffle on “We’ve Got Tomorrow”. And the album closer “Big Wide Wonderful World” sounds like a meld of Isaak’s ‘50s rock style with something more in the vein of Bobby Darin at the Sands.

Isaak also does a couple of duets, with intermittent success. He teams with Trisha Yearwood on “Breaking Apart”. Both singers are in fine form, but the chorus is blandly melodramatic. Meanwhile, Michelle Branch doesn’t add much to “I Lose My Heart”, which is a fairly generic Isaak tune.

So this isn’t a great album, but there’s enough here to ensure that I’ll plunk down for Isaak’s next effort.

Wiley and the Checkmates, The Hideout, Chicago, March 28, 2009

This was one of those nights where I was so happy that I live in Chicago. It had nothing to do with the weather. The temperature was not much above freezing, but with the high winds and constant rain, it was as miserable as a 10 below zero day.

What made me feel so happy was that there are people like Tim Tuten, John Ciba and James Porter in this town. Tuten is one of the owners of The Hideout. It's a small bar in a factory section of town. Tuten is one of the folks who turned into a premier music club, which has become famous for its annual late summer block party. He's also a hilarious presence introducing bands, or, in this case, DJs and a band.

The DJs in question were the East of Eden Soul Express. James Porter has been involved in the local music scene as a writer and a musician (in Hoodoo Hoedown, for example). And John Ciba worked at record store, then for a record company/distributor, and then he found himself putting out records.

And not just any records. His forays to Alabama connected him with great undiscovered soul sides, leading to his first release on Rabbit Factory, a collection of great stuff from Birmingham. Since then, Porter and Ciba have become popular DJs, getting 20-somethings dancing to deep soul dusties, and getting some vintage R & B singers to come to Chicago.

One of those singers is Howard Wiley. Back in the '60s, he played the chitlin' circuit. And earlier this decade, he got back into music. Wiley and his new Checkmates now play out with some regularity.

Wiley has put together one hell of a band. The basic guitar/bass/drums foundation is augmented by a percussionist and a two-piece horn section (saxophone and trumpet). All were impressive, especially the deep bottomed work of Anthony Wortham on drums and the tight chicken scratch licks of J.D. Mark on guitar (he has been a touring guitarist with LCD Soundsystem). After the Checkmates warmed up with two instrumentals, Wiley came out.

He is a joyful presence on stage, who provides the grit and the grease that adds spice to the smooth razor sharp grooves laid down by the band. The set was mostly covers, with a couple swell originals thrown in. Wiley has personality and showed off surprising power and range at times. Whether it was a slow bluesy burner or something hot, Wiley was up to the task.

Two big highlights in the set were a great R & B recasting of Bobbie Gentry's classic "Ode to Billie Joe" and a terrific workout on James Brown's "Cold Sweat". On the former, Wiley sang in more measured tones, but altered lyrics to fit the funkier vibe. On the latter, Wiley didn't imitate the Godfather of Soul, but found his own way to connect with the song. Even better, he used this song to let each Checkmate to play a little solo and get some love from the crowd.

And Wiley really connected with the crowd. He doesn't just have character, he is a character. Moreover, it was obvious he was having a great time up on stage.

Just over two weeks ago, I saw Raphael Saadiq do a modern version of a classic soul show. Now I got to see an original do his thing. What I've learned is that old or new, soul will always be around.

A.C. Newman w/The Broken West, March 25, 2009, Logan Square Auditorium, Chicago

This was my first time seeing a show at Logan Square, which is a big boxy room that looks like a VFW hall, with a temporary stage at the back and lots of room for folks to wander. The sound from close to the stage was pretty good, though I imagine the acoustics further back might not have been so hot.

I got to see a swell double bill for my rookie LSA experience. I had heard of The Broken West, as people like writer Bryan Thomas have touted the band’s music. The five piece band (two guitars, bass, keyboards, drums) is a well oiled machine. In particular, the drummer was terrific, driving the music throughout.

The band’s sound could loosely be called roots music or Americana. They fall somewhere between the catchy sounds of bands like The Byrds and early Wilco and more robust fare like Neil Young and Green On Red. The first two songs from The Broken West simply had a great sound, as the interplay between the musicians was very compelling.

On the third song, the show hit a higher level. There’s no other way to put it -- this was simply a better written song. And from that point forward, almost every song in the set had a great chorus, strong vocals (the lead singer has a sandpapery voice and the bass player had a good vocal turn) and on the few occasions where they stretched out a song, the collective power really lifted things higher.

This performance was met by an enthusiastic reaction from the crowd. The band thanked everyone for showing some “Midwestern hospitality.”

A tough act to follow perhaps. But A.C. Newman and his co-ed band were up to the task. I came into the show having taken awhile to warm up to Newman’s second solo LP, Get Guilty. Before the set, I would have told you that it was a bit too close to the formula for his band The New Pornographers, whereas his first LP, The Slow Wonder, was more intimate and deviated from the formula more.

Coming out of the show, in which five or so debut tunes were mixed in with pretty much the entire new album, I’ve got to change my tune. Newman was augmented by a guitarist, a keyboard/trumpet player, a violinist, a bassist and Superchunk’s Jon Wurster on drums. Hearing the intricate arrangements performed with such energy made me realize how much I take for granted.

Much like his fellow New Porno Neko Case, Carl Newman has really created his own style. It’s in the melodies and rhythms and the chords he chooses. And it’s amplified by the clever arrangements. After opening the show with the opening songs from his first two albums, he went into the new tune “Like a Hitman, Like a Dancer”.

This song is everything that makes Newman special. It’s built on a few crisply strummed acoustic guitar chords with sympathetic accompaniment by the drummer, tapping the rim around the drum head. This sets up the verse, which is insistent. The song softens up in the refrain, as keyboards come in. After the second refrain, there’s a dramatic instrumental break with a cool squealing guitar solo, which melts away and the song gets going again.

That doesn’t even begin to fully describe what all is going on with this one tune. To hear a band actually pull it off live, with the interlocking parts, the backing vocals, leading to a great ending…well, it’s pretty special.

The set, like the new album, mixed stirring moments such as the pretty “Thunderbolts” or the haunting “Young Atlantis” with cool quirky pop like the locked in groove of “Submarines of Stockholm” or the bouncing “The Collected Works”.

The new material is so fully realized that the smattering of Slow Wonder selections sounded thin at times. The E.L.O.-ish “Better than Most” and “Drink to Me, Babe” were two examples of songs that did not come off nearly as well live as on record. But this was not true of everything from the debut. Indeed, the encore of the sensitive “Come Crash” and the E.L.O.-ish (yes, another Jeff Lynne-like tune) “Town Halo” was a great way to end the night.

So there were two good national acts on the same bill. It was like it was 1988 all over again.

Condo Fucks -- Fuckbook

Condo Fucks -- Fuckbook (Matador)

There’s no doubt that Yo La Tengo has a sense of humor. Whether it’s the amusing baseball anecdote from which the band got its name or having Bob Odenkirk and David Cross of Mr. Show in a YLT video, Yo La Tengo does not take itself too seriously.

This comes through on Fuckbook, a garagey sequel to the band’s all-covers Fakebook album. In addition to hyping some fake Condo Fucks albums in the CD booklet, the back cover boasts production by Mutt Lange and mixing and mastering by sound gurus Bob Clearmountain and Greg Calbi. Rest assured that not only was there no production necessary for this album, but it sounds like it was recorded on the tape recorder Rerun used to bootleg the Doobie Brothers on the greatest episode of What’s Happening ever.

The song list is terrific. The Fucks fuck up songs by The Small Faces, The Electric Eels, The Kinks, Slade, The Beach Boys and others. This sounds like it can’t miss.

Yet it does. The tossed off quality of the affair yields diminishing returns. It’s not that the performances are dispassionate, but they certainly aren’t passionate. And if an album of covers leaves me wanting to hear the original, far superior version of a song, the cover isn’t succeeding. And that happens far too often on this set.

Maybe you’d like to hear an off-key rendition of The Kinks’ “This Is Where I Belong”, but I have no need for it. And the lurching version of Slade’s “Gudbuy T’Jane” would have Noddy Holder spinning in his grave, were Noddy dead.

The Fucks hit once in a while. I like the take on The Flamin’ Groovies’ “Dog Meat”, which is probably the most intense performance on the disc. And while I can’t vouch for the performance of The Beach Boys’ “Shut Down”, I like hearing it done as a grimy rock song.

But that’s setting the bar pretty low for a song, isn’t it? Let’s face it. If this were a demo, the powers that be at Matador would have tossed it in the garbage. Just because it’s Yo La Tengo does not give it any magical powers.

1,000 Recordings to Hear Before You Die by Tom Moon

I picked up this 2008 book at my local public library, figuring it would suck, but might be worth a giggle. If you're not a bookstore denizen, you might not be aware of the Before You Die series, which looks at various things, like travel destinations, restaurants, brands of saltines, that one should check out before checking out for good. The concept isn't a bad one, but how could a guide possibly incorporate every genre and so much musical history in a complete fashion?

It can't, really. That's because it would have to 100,000 or 1,000,000 recordings to hear before you die, and if that was the case, you'd have to write it at a grade school level, so readers could have even a slim shot at meeting the goal.

But as I started reading the book, I was sucked in. Tom Moon, a writer and NPR contributor, has played in rock and jazz bands. He writes about music with equal amounts of intelligence and enthusiasm. And he's quite intelligent.

Since he's a musician, he can ably describe what's going on in a host of musical styles. Yet he avoids getting too insider-ish and overly technical. For the most part, he does a good job of giving you an idea where each selection is coming from.

I really appreciate this, as his descriptions of jazz, classical and world music recordings are giving me a lot of suggestions that will broaden my horizons. Nowhere is this more true than with classical music. Moon's writing about classical (and for that matter, anything that's not strictly pop) music gets across a critical notion: classical music is just part of a continuum. While not all of the compositional devices from greats like Beethoven and Mozart are part of pop music, they are part of music in general and it seems to me that the ability to appreciate the complexity of Captain Beefheart or the bold ideas of Can should equally apply to classical music.

Of course, complexity isn't the sole criteria for what makes music great, and Moon has enough selections that tout primal punk and inane pop. Speaking of which, if there's one area where I quibble with Moon, it's in some of his pop selections. I'll give you two examples.

First, he includes Tracy Chapman's debut album. Now I'll agree that "Fast Cars" and "Talkin' About a Revolution" are great songs. But the album as a whole is merely good. There are some other selections along these lines.

But Chapman's inclusion is arguably defensible. I can't imagine why Britney Spears merits a spot amongst the thousand. Yes, "Toxic" is one of her few good songs, but I can think of a 100,000 songs that one should listen to before hearing that one.

Which is another way of saying that sometimes Moon tries too hard. This also manifests itself in another aspect of the book. After each mini-review (about eight paragraphs on each entry) he includes recommended work by the artist, and then two other steps one can take afterwards. In the Green Day entry (for American Idiot) the next two steps are the Ramones' debut album (okay, I can see that) and then an album from Godsmack (WTF?).

These sporadic slip ups are more than outweighed by the sheer variety of albums and Moon's mix of criticism, description and music history. Yep, not only do I have a bunch of new things to check out, this book is chock full of cool tidbits. Until today, I wasn't aware of how big of a role Benny Goodman played in integrating jazz. Indeed, according to Moon, rather than put the African-Americans in his band through hell during tours in the Deep South, Goodman decided to skip visiting the South entirely. I like Goodman even more now.

This book has taken predictable criticism for not being inclusive enough or overly so. Moreover, a lot experts in specific fields, especially classical, have not been pleased with Moon's treatment of their fave genres.

I can't agree with that. Even if I don't agree with some of Moon's selections in areas where I have a great deal of knowledge, and within those entries, I might not entirely agree with his criticism, I just see that as a difference in perspective. Moon's writing is consistently good throughout.

This book is now out in paperback, but Moon now has a website which covers the ground of the book and more, which I have just cleverly hyperlinked where it says 'website.' The entries are not as full as those in the book, but they give you the idea. While this isn't perfect, I think it's a worthwhile guide for any music fan who wants to explore new areas.

Dora Flood -- Dream Out Your Window (2008)

Dora Flood -- Dream Out Your Window (self released)

Along with Donovan’s Brain, Dora Flood is one of the most reliable psychedelic rock bands in America. This California band consistently puts out quality releases of dreamy rock, and this disc is no exception. Compared to more recent releases, this album is probably a wee bit more traditional, as the band doesn’t throw in any cross-genre wrinkles. This is pure, unadulterated psych-rock, the way Syd and The Pretty Things, and Tomorrow, and (insert name of favorite ‘60s psychedelic act) intended it.

One thing I like about Dora Flood is how the band spins its web and then adds something to spice things up. For example, “Mantra” sets a hypnotic Eastern styled groove, with appropriately spacey vocals from Michael Padilla. In the midst of this, some twanging, rocking guitar comes in, the song takes a brief melodic swoop, and then the groove picks up with guitars buzzing from speaker to speaker. It gets a bit funky and the track is all the better for it.

“I’m way beyond depending/on a nuclear assault.” This is the tag line of the chorus of prettiest song on the album, “Suspended”. Padilla plucked the melody out of the ether, and the guitars and keyboards create a warm bath of sound. Imagine all of the texture of the swooniest My Bloody Valentine song with the guitar feedback removed. This song is a highlight in the Dora Flood catalog.

Along with those two great songs, other highlights include the haunting closer “All”, which is space rock at its best, the gentle jangle of the opener “Never to Forget” and “The Message”, which centers on a menacing guitar riff which builds up with the keyboards into emotional swells and squalls.

So it’s yet another enjoyable album from Dora Flood. They make it sound easy, but it can’t be easy to keep putting this much good stuff out.

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.