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Review: Joe Jackson's "Rain"

January 29, 2008 5:43 PM

If you don’t know the work of Joe Jackson, you must be really young.  In the late ‘70s he was an angry, snarling tunesmith who burst out of England in a fury.  Like Elvis Costello, he specialized in tightly wound catchy rock songs built around observations of everyday life, peppered with occasional sentiments of love and disdain. 

His 1978 debut, “Look Sharp,” included the hit “Is She Really Going Out With Him?”  On that track, he set the scene of “pretty women out walking with gorillas down (his) street” while he sat dumbfounded, alone looking out the window.  In another notable hit on that album, he criticized tabloid journalism (long before it was cool to do so) on “Sunday Papers.”  A string of hits followed.  It all led upto  his 1982 triumph, “Night and Day,” a decidedly unpunk, frequently Latin-rhythmed crawl through urban existence.  That album included his most indelible hit, “Steppin’ Out.” 

After a few years, Jackson seemed to drift away from the pop and rock realms, instead focusing on more orchestral works, as well as famously scoring movies like “Tucker.” 

In 2003, perhaps worried that his 25-year mark was approaching, and maybe hoping the powers that be wouldn’t forget to include him in their Rock and Roll Hall of Fame selections, he gathered his band  (bassist Graham Maby, drummer Dave Houghton  and guitarist Gary Sanford) and released an old-fashioned spiky rock record called “Volume 4.”  Two songs on “Volume 4” stood up particularly well next to his classics.  “Awkward Age” was a highly catchy ode to feeling like a social outcast, and “Take It Like a Man” was a propulsive piano and guitar rocker about gender issues.  Both subjects are frequent topics in Jackson’s work. 

Now  he’s come out of hiding to release “Rain.” What catches your ear first is  the record lacks guitar.  (Where is Sanford?  Was the rest of the band unsuccessful in getting him to return for another record?) That just leaves the basic trio of Jackson’s piano, Houghton’s drums and Maby’s bass.  They sound very stately and polished, but it ends up sounding more composerly than rocking. It’s more like something you’d hear at a fancy piano bar.  There’s nothing wrong with that.  Jackson’s musical chops have gotten him far.  Like Costello, he’s one of the few artists who started in a punk tradition but always paid special care to the mechanics of composition.  Both men’s recent work has shown them to be highly versatile because of this. 

“Rain” is more akin to “Night and Day” and less like “Look Sharp” or its follow-up, “I’m the Man.”  It lacks that spice and volatility sometimes present on “Night and Day,” so it actually really sounds sort of like it’s slightly less-entertaining cousin.    The songs are well-constructed, however, and Jackson fully proves he can beat anyone at the “least-cheesy, most listenable piano-ballad” contest, but for all their ornate flourishes, the album has a sameness to it throughout.

What is also a strange development is the amount of falsetto singing Jackson does.  The practice nearly kills the enjoyable “Uptown Train.”  Jackson isn’t Prince.  He isn’t a smooth soul singer, so he has trouble pulling this off.  But he does it multiple times on the album.  “Invisible Man,” the record’s opener, is only mildly hurt by this since he only sings in falsetto for a brief moment.  The song’s insistent, driving chorus of “You can’t touch the invisible man” lifts it into the realm of some of Jackson’s best work. The opening is epic, too, with his show of “Hey! Can you hear me now?” as if he were doing an initial sound check or simply returning into the limelight from obscurity.  Given Jackson’s low-profile as of late, it’s an interesting beginning choice. 

“Too Tough” is a great track, but it would be even better at twice the tempo with a guitar part.  Then it might have the resonance of “Awkward Age.”  Jackson’s pop sensibilities are still highly intact.  He knows a great tune, but his often sleepy arrangements don’t do his songs any favors. 

“Citizen Sane” at least speeds up the rhythm, but it’s an attempt at a rocker, and it doesn’t rock the way it really should.  If Sanford was around, the band could give it the treatment it deserves.

“Wasted Time” is another ballad.  Jackson has always been a master at such songs, but once again the falsetto in the chorus is quite grating. 

“Solo (So Low)” is a standout because of its darkly classical-leaning mood.  It sounds almost like something that should underscore a funeral procession.  Like a slower answer to the Beatles’ “Eleanor Rigby,” it sounds like it could be nicely done by a string quartet.

“Rush Across the Road” is a pleasant, mid-tempo pop song, but once again, the arrangement morphs what could be a highly potent number into something sort of bland.  Only when Jackson makes a significant note jump during the chorus do things begin to get interesting. 

On “Good Bad Boy” you can hear Jackson’s inner punk trying to claw his way out, but he’s once again restrained by his almost Broadway-esque arrangements.  Once again, substitute the piano for a guitar, and there might be something more venomous there.  Otherwise it just sounds like something to riff off of at “theater camp.” 

“A Place in the Rain” is yet another literate ballad.  This, unlike the previously mentioned song, was meant for this kind of arrangement.  The piano works well with it, allowing the shifting structures and chorus to soar.  So it’s not a complete loss after all. 

The only time Jackson truly lets himself let loose is on the superior “King Pleasure Time.”  What allows this song to gain power is that Maby’s bass is in the forefront, and Jackson’s piano is used more for punctuation purposes.  In this case, less is indeed more!  If only more of the album sounded like this.

“Rain” is still an enjoyable record.  Jackson shows he still has musical skill and that he can still record a great song, but it   also shows that he doesn’t know the power of variety.  So many of these songs would have been better with an electric guitar.  Never the less, Jackson continues to prove himself to be a fine composer and a keen songwriter with a lot of depth.  He just needs to know when to resist his classical impulses and how he can balance them with the punk he once was. 

Maybe someday he’ll record another rocker in the vein of his classic “Got the Time.”  When that day comes, it will be reason to celebrate.  Given what was on “Volume 4,” I think such a move is still possible.  Despite the shortcomings of “Rain,” Joe Jackson remains a highly revered master.  Maybe someday the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame will remember him and reward him like they should.   

Note: “Rain” is also packaged as a special edition with a bonus DVD featuring a mini live concert and a making of featurette showing the band recording the album in Berlin.   

January 29, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (3)

Review: Lisa Loeb's "The Purple Tape"

January 25, 2008 3:00 PM

In 1994, Lisa Loeb achieved the impossible feat of having a No. 1 single without a record contract.  Her song “Stay” had been featured in the iconic movie “Reality Bites,” and its popularity led to a bidding war that resulted in her eventual signing to Geffen Records.  In 1995, she released “Tails,” her first full-length album.  To date, she hasn’t repeated the success of “Stay,” but she has released a consistently good string of singles and albums.

“The Purple Tape” is a long-treasured nugget in the eyes of die-hard Loeb fans.  It’s essentially her 1992 demo consisting of 10, stripped down, acoustic renditions of early songs.  Most of these songs eventually wound up on “Tails,” but some were new solo versions of songs that she’d performed as part of Liz & Lisa, the duo she had formed while attending Brown University with future Ida front-woman Elizabeth Mitchell.   

Originally on cassette, as was the standard back then, “The Purple Tape” has now been remastered and released on CD for the very first time. To make the package even sweeter, it has also been packaged with an hour-long interview disc on which Loeb discusses the genesis of the project in depth.  Her analysis of her own song structures is priceless.  No doubt, this section may be useful to college music professors and those who simply like to know about the mechanics of music.  She dissects every track, discusses her favorite lyrics and gives a very rare insight into her songwriting process.  To any musician, hearing this can be instantly inspirational.  She explains that her early work was an exceptionally complicated chord, progression wise, because in her performing circle, complex arrangements brought a great deal of respect.  Over time, her songs have gotten a little simpler, so it is indeed a treat to hear her explain her most complicated works. 

The most notable observation one can make about the early recordings on “The Purple Tape” is how almost shout-y some of her vocal performances are. They aren’t radically different from the studio takes, but they aren’t quite as soft and sweet either.   On the interview disc, she explains that she was not yet at ease with being a front-woman, considering she had been more of a background singer and guitar-player in her Liz and Lisa days. 

She also explains that it was difficult to tell people she was a singer-songwriter and not a folk singer despite her acoustic guitar.  Sure, she has never been as angst-driven as Liz Phair or Alanis Morisette, but underneath the sugary, friendly vocal style, lie lyrics about sadness, depression and isolation.  She may have thought that she didn’t quite fit in with what was in at the time, but if you listen carefully, she really did.  She’s like a softer, gentler Juliana Hatfield with more memorable lyrics. 

The version of “Do You Sleep?” holds up well next to the more famous single version.  The bare-bones version of “Snow Day” sounds much more depressive and blustery.  One can bet that “Hurricane” truly moved audiences when it was performed in the live, acoustic setting.  “Train Songs” is pleasantly driving progression with its clever use of “jazz-chords” and its chorus of “You gave wonderful hugs when I was with you.”  As Loeb observes on the interview disc, the “Wizard of Oz”- themed  “Come Back Home” owes a massive debt to the Jackson 5, sounding a little like “I Want You Back.”  The  ba-da-da  chorus of “This” effectively distills Loeb’s amiable appeal into a three-syllable refrain. “Guessing Game” is typical Loeb-spun pop gold. 

“Stay” was not one of the demos on “The Purple Tape,” however Loeb closes the interview disc with a live, acoustic version.  Give her credit for knowing what her audience wants. 

This reissue could probably not have come at a better time.  With the popularity of Myspace for budding musicians, not to mention the rise of other DIY singer-songwriters like Ingrid Michaelson, thanks to ad and television placement, no doubt Loeb’s amazing achievement with “Stay” will be repeated by someone else eventually.   It’s good to know that in a simpler, less-connected time, someone was able to break through the corporate clutter.  Loeb was a trailblazer.  She continues to make excellent records 16 years later, making these early recordings even more compelling. 

January 25, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (2)

Review: Liam Finn's "I’ll Be Lightning"

January 24, 2008 12:24 PM

Odds are, you don’t know who Liam Finn is, but you most definitely know the work of his father, Neil Finn, and his uncle, Tim Finn.  As the leaders of Crowded House and Split Enz respectively, the two have been side by side on and off for the last 30 years or so.  In their native New Zealand, they are superstars.  Neil Finn especially is considered a great master.  Most American audiences know Neil and Crowded House for the 1986 classic hits “Don’t Dream It’s Over” and “Something So Strong,” but if you pick up a copy of their best of  “Recurring Dream,” you’ll find that Neil is quite underrated in the states.  (Last year, the band regrouped with their new album “Time on Earth.”  See No. 40 on my best of 2007 list!)  The Finn Brothers’ previous band, Split Enz, is most famous for the hit “I Got You,” known for its refrain, “I don’t know why sometimes I get frightened.” 

So, it’s apparent that young Liam Finn’s got a rather sizable legacy to live up to.  Both Neil and Tim Finn are respected tunesmiths.  They are songwriters’ songwriters, with a great deal of respect and hero-worship at their feet.  The news is great for Liam.  He inherited everything he needed to to succeed.  Not only does he sound an awful lot like his respected dad, but he’s also got similarly gentle, haunting song structures.  In addition, he seems to be somewhat of a studio whiz kid.  “I’ll Be Lightning” is full of interesting sounds much more akin to more experimental rock.  It rocks a little harder, and has a seething ferociousness at points. 

“Second Chance” starts off like an eerie, haunted lullaby, and then builds wonderfully into something powerful and almost menacing.    Like his father’s work, it’s luminous and Beatle-esque, but Liam’s inventively rough production makes everything seem much more volatile.   Even at its gentlest points, nothing seems to have a polished sheen.  In an age when overproduction is running industry authenticity into the ground, it’s refreshing to hear a record like this.    At the same time, while listening to “Second Chance,” one can’t help recalling Neil’s Sheryl Crow assisted single, “Driving Me Mad,” from his album “One All.”  Both songs have a similar rhythm and sense of unrest.  It’s definitive evidence that he is, unmistakably, his father’s son. 

“Lead Balloon,” on the other hand, winds up being more of a punked-up workout than his father  ever delivered.  But then again, Neil has rarely been one to rock out, despite the given exception of the 1993 Crowded House single “Locked Out.”  On “Lead Balloon,” Liam sounds as if  he’s having a blast, screaming and yelling his “yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah” assault ending.  It’s as if someone just gave him a rock-'n'-roll energy shot. 

Much of “I’ll Be Lightning” is quiet, however.  “Fire in Your Belly” and “Lullaby” both have a sense of solemn loneliness to them.  The way his soft, gentle voice tends to drift gloriously into falsetto notes recalls the best qualities of the late Elliott Smith.  Even on a fast-paced shuffle like “Energy Spent,” that soft, sweetness remains intact. 

“Music Moves My Feet” has a strictly homemade, live sound to it.  One can picture Liam by himself strumming out the chords and figuring out the structure.  In other people’s hands, this would be considered a demo.  Liam has it right.  This skeletal recording is much more full of life than any computerized studio rendering would ever be. 
Liam rocks out again on “This Place Is Killing Me.”  He plays his crashing electric guitar as the song ends as if he expects his playing to blast him out of said “place.”  It’s great to hear him thrash and scrape his way to the song’s conclusion. 

“Wise Man” would make a great single, with its acoustic strumming, its catchy melody  and its sporadic chorale bursts.  It would be great to hear it get the exposure it deserves. 

“Better to Be” also deserves exposure.  With its slightly funky, tempo-shifting backbeat and its guiding bass-line, it’s a marvel of a song.  It’s so packed with tension that it demands your attention. 

The slightly strange title track features Neil on bass.  It’s one of the very few guest appearances. For the most part, this is an all Liam show, making the album all the more impressive. 

The album closes with the soft piano ballad “Shadow of Your Man,” the kind of song that would not seem all that out of place on a Crowded House record.  It’s just Liam and a piano. 

“I’ll Be Lightning” is a back-to-basics, DIY-style rock record.  It is sometimes soft and sometimes hard, and it shows the great range of the young man who made it.  Liam Finn should have no problem stepping out of the large shadows his father and uncle have cast.  He’s a dynamic performer in his own right; someone to be watched very carefully.  This is a remarkable debut. Not only has he done his family legacy proud, but he has also delivered the first truly astounding record of 2008.  If you like singer-songwriters working off the Beatle mold, and you don’t pick this one up, you, my friend, are truly missing something.

January 24, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (4)

Review: Ringo Starr's "Liverpool 8"

January 16, 2008 11:44 AM

It’s been 44 years since the Beatles began their quest for world domination and became culturally ubiquitous mainstays. Ringo Starr, the band’s drummer, is now 67-years-old.  He and Paul McCartney are sadly now the only Beatles left.  Thankfully, Ringo’s new record “Liverpool 8,” (the number indicating his neighborhood in Liverpool) showcases exactly what one expects from a Ringo record. 

As a songwriter, Ringo always paled next to his other band-mates.  But then again, John Lennon, Paul McCartney and George Harrison were all titans in their prime. No one can blame Ringo for not being able to measure up to that bar.  That being said, Ringo did write two notable Beatles classics in “Octopus’ Garden” and “Don’t Pass Me By,” so he’s still worthy.    But as a solo artist, with the exception of “It Don’t Come Easy,” he’s rarely gotten his due. 

“Liverpool 8” is a complete nostalgia trip.  The title track is shockingly vital and gorgeous.  It stands among his best singles to date.  That is somewhat surprising considering that it’s been a while since he really delivered a memorable single.  His albums are usually reasonably decent, but how many songs from his solo career have really infiltrated your mind and not left?  The title track to “Liverpool 8,” sticks with you in a classically Beatle-like way. 

One of many tracks co-written with Dave Stewart of the Eurhythmics, the song chronicles Starr’s rise with the Beatles from working-class boys from Liverpool to all-around superstars.  Sure, George Harrison did this kind of track at least twice with his hits “All Those Years Ago” and “When We Was Fab,” (the latter being hugely under-rated!) and just about all of Paul’s last album, last year’s excellent “Memory Almost Full,” was built around such self-celebration, but here, from Ringo’s perspective, the whole experience is told in such wide-eyed awe. 

More so than with any of the rest of them, you get the feeling that Ringo knows exactly how lucky he is, considering he replaced original drummer Pete Best right before the band took off.  It probably scares him to death to think that if things had gone a slight bit differently, Pete Best could’ve been living the high life instead.  It is this sense of good fortune that adds sweetness to the song.  The song has the strong aroma of pride.

By far, that opener is the best song in the record, but nowhere does Ringo embarrass himself in any way.  He continues to be the jovial, enjoyable, unique personality generations have come to love.  Love, in fact seems to be his favorite topic.  Four tracks have the word in the title.  Perhaps the best is “If It’s Love That You Want,” which possesses a very plucky early-period Beatle-esque quality.  It equally recalls “From Me To You” and “Come And Get It.”  The other three love themed songs are the gentle, “Love Is,” the slow, mellow, goovier, “Tuff Love,” and the funked-up “For Love,” which sounds like something Lennon would’ve recorded somewhere around the time of “Cold Turkey” or “Power To The People.”  The latter is a very big song, and it serves Ringo very well. 
“Think About You” also recalls the early seventies, and seems dated, but in the long-run, this really doesn’t matter.  It’s an enjoyable track, despite the fact that the background singing recalls the cheesiest moments on the Traveling Wilburys’ records. 

“Gone are the Days” has some nicely tweaked-out doses of psychedelia, but the sense of innovation felt in the opening notes is slightly diminished when one realizes that the chorus consists of the once-again recycled phrase of “It Don’t Come Easy.”  It makes what could have been something really cool, come off as a mere rehash. 

“Give It A Try” also sounds a little like an early Beatles out-take.  The kind of song you’d expect would have been delegated to Ringo on “Please Please Me.”  It’s a pleasant, vaguely skiffle-fueled boogie. 

“Harry’s Song” has an almost tin-pan alley vibe whereas “Pasodobles” interestingly casts Ringo as mellow Latin crooner. 

“Liverpool 8” as an album does not strike up a revolution.  It doesn’t change Ringo’s image in any way, shape or form.  Instead, it’s a statement that he can still deliver a reasonably good record.  His voice hasn’t really changed that much over the years and he has aged extremely well.

Like McCartney’s last two records, “Liverpool 8” has a strong sense of revitalization.  No doubt, the two of them are in similar boats.  Watching their friend George Harrison die of cancer a few years ago must’ve left lasting scars, and from their musical output since, it also seems to have firmly placed both of them focused and in the moment.  It’s as if they’ve realized that time is a finite commodity, and that there isn’t enough time any more to make sub-par records.  Let’s hope Paul and Ringo continue to make enjoyable records for many years to come.

An interesting side note: Currently, EMI seems to be having a great deal of business related problems.  Job cuts were just announced and many artists on the label’s roster are wonder if the company is equipped to properly promote them.  Recently, McCartney angrily parted ways with EMI subsidiary, Capitol in order to record for Starbucks’ label.     It should be noted that against the trend, “Liverpool 8” marks Ringo’s return to the Capitol roster after spending the last few years recording for the indie label Koch. 

January 16, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (4)

Review: Sia's "Some People Have Real Problems"

January 10, 2008 12:30 PM

Sia Furler is an Australian-born, London and Los Angeles-based singer, best known for her work with the chilled-out ensemble Zero 7 and for the song “Breathe Me,” which capped off the epic series-finale of “Six Feet Under” a few years back.  Her powerful, soaring R&B-ready vocal style is her unmistakable trademark.  In fact, her music will probably never be embraced by modern R&B radio, but it should be for her voice alone.  Sure, her songs are much more singer-songwriter-tinged and less club-ready than the majority of artists in that genre, but she’s still a worthy candidate for belter of the year. 

“Some People Have Real Problems” is the follow-up to her album “Colour The Small One” and her live E.P. “Lady Croissant.”  Nothing here is nearly as heart-stoppingly moving as “Breathe Me,” but it is indeed another finely-honed record. 

Where “Colour the Small One” was somewhat laid-back and reflective almost to the point of being depressive, this record is allowed to let its quirks shine through. “Buttons,” the album’s first single, is pretty bouncy by her standards. It’s an insanity-fueled, glittery dose of eighties-style ear-candy.  In a puzzling move, the song is actually on the album as a secret track, (Go to track 13 at the 6:32 mark.)  Late last year its video gained a lot of buzz on youtube for being equally clever, funny, horrifying and shocking.  (It consists of series of shots of Sia mugging for the camera, with various bags and stockings over her head.  Thankfully, she must not take herself too seriously.)

“Academia” is the second best track here, as whimsical and creepy as it soaringly ominous and beautiful.  During the chorus, you can hear special guest Beck singing back-up.  His baritone gives the song weight and urgency.  He and Sia must be friends considering he also co-wrote her song “The Bully” from “Colour the Small One” and that Sia appeared in one of the videos the companion DVD for his album “The Information.” 

Beck appears again on “Death By Chocolate” as part of an unlikely chorus of singers (including Giovanni Ribisi and Jason Lee among others.)  The song is striking and soulful, despite the unlikely back-up. 

“The Girl You Lost To Cocaine” has an unlikely title for such a happy sounding, upbeat track.  This track shows Sia at her strongest.  Too often, she gets herself stuck in chilled-out soft, contemplative pieces.  On “Lullaby” for instance, she gets a little too soft, and her words become murky and muttered, so it’s good to hear her really let loose on the former. 

“Electric Bird” is a moving song that makes great use of a horn section.
“I Go To Sleep” is an oddly soulful Kinks cover.  It’s a song she originally covered during live performances with Zero 7, and later on her aforementioned live album “Lady Croissant.”  It’s nice to get a studio version. 

“Little Black Sandals” is also a single-worthy song about leaving a relationship.  In the chorus, she sings “These little black sandals are walking me away.  These little black sandals saved my life today.” 

The dreamy, almost delicately orchestral backdrop of “Lentil” starts off quiet and then soars when she sings with determination, “I never meant to let you down. / I’m trying not to fall apart.” You believe her because of the quiver in her voice.  She then reaches for the rafters and sings it even louder in case you doubted her.  This is what great, soulful ballads are made of. 

On the downright unusual “Playground,” Sia declares, “I don’t want to grow up.  Bring me all the toys you can find.”  It’s obvious from the album’s packaging that she really means this.  The album’s cover is a picture of her drawing on her face with markers, which is a rather humorous sight paired with the record’s title.  Remove the disc from its sleeve and you’ll find crudely-drawn day-glow-hued stick-figures with that album’s title scrawled out again in blue and pink.  Inside, instead of standard liner notes, you’ll find a series of brightly-colored postcards.  In an age when packaging seems to be a dying art due to the recyclable and almost disposable nature of the new digital world of online-music, it’s nice to see that someone still puts such care into visual presentation. 

Whether “Some People Have Real Problems” is a better record than “Colour the Small One” is hard to say.  The records are mostly likely equal.  Here she’s less whispery and much more out in front, but no less intense.  .  She does sometimes tend to over-sing a little, and that can deliver challenges, but you can chock that up to her wanting to show her skill. 

Essentially, Sia’s got Alicia Keys’ soul, Nelly Furtado’s sass, Regina Spektor’s  oddball sense of whimsy, a touch of Norah Jones’ class, and a wackiness all her own.  Overall, this record is very satisfying.    Considering it was released on Starbucks’ Hear Music label, perhaps it can be the soundtrack to your next latté. 

January 10, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (3)