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Review: Cyndi Lauper’s “Bring Ya To The Brink”

May 30, 2008 11:13 AM

  It’s been 25 years since a then orange-haired Cyndi Lauper gave us her classic album “She’s So Unusual.”  “Girls Just Want To Have Fun,” “Time After Time,” “All Through the Night”  and “She Bop” are still solid eighties-flashback staples. That album’s still considered the peak of her career.  In the years since, though, Lauper has really grown and matured quite nicely.  She was never a run-of-the-mill pop-star.  That was evident from the start.  Throughout her career she has never really has sold out, either.  Sure, there have been the oddball moves (like her bizarre connections in the world of wrestling) but everything she has done has seemed like a natural extension of her off-beat personality.  She could have spent the last 25 years easily singing the catchiest of pop-tunes if she wanted, but she’s taken a much more progressive and honorable route.  She’s always had one of the most impressive, distinctive voices around. I’m sure she could put her own spin on just about anything and make it her own. 

  In recent years, Lauper has been laying low and showcasing some other sides of her personality.  In 2003, she released “At Last,” a solid, mellow but heavily skilled album of covers of some of her favorite songs.  In 2005 she released “The Body Acoustic,” which was even better, with acoustic re-workings of her classic hits.

“Bring Ya To The Brink” is the polar opposite of both those albums, considering it’s an in-your-face dance album.  If you are a Lauper fan who somehow has an aversion to house or trance music, you might want to steer clear.  This is an album made for the clubs and her club-based fans.  She always had a bit of a dance diva in her, but here she really allows that side to shine. This is a collection of thumping dance music led by a truly capable performer.

It opens with “High and Mighty” which shows the album’s overall sound with its incessant beat and its low bass-line.  These aren’t always the happiest sounding dance songs.  They are more slinky and dark.  On this one, Lauper keeps her vocal level to a low to medium range as she repeats the phrase “livin’ high and mighty.”  She uses the upper reaches of her register for punctuating background vocal-work.  For a dance song, it’s pretty low key, but it’s effective.  It’s for the clubs and thus, it serves its purpose.

Seamlessly the tracks change and another low, creaky electro-clash bass line begins “Into the Nightlife.”  This is a more vibrant club hit with a brighter chorus to contrast the darker verses.  It should be a hit. 

“Rocking Chair” is a quirky song to add to the Lauper catalog.  It too relies on an electro-clash style background.  What’s really funny is how in the distance in the mix you can hear Lauper shouting the verse lyrics in response to the sung lyrics.  She’s buried in the mix, but with some cool distortion she sounds like she’s on a distant phone-line yelling to be heard.  The song is a little insane, but rather infectious.  Some listeners might find it irritating the way Lauper says the lines, “rock me here, rock me there, rock me in my rocking chair.”  Those people are probably the same closed-minded people who couldn’t see beyond her orange hair 25 years ago.  Those people are not Lauper fans. (These days Lauper is blonde.) 

“Echo” is one of the album’s strongest cuts.  It is a warm and welcoming groove with a spaced-out edge.  Again it relies on a rather basic house/trance beat and Lauper’s delivery during the verses is hushed, but it gives way to a monster of a chorus.  This song is a Lauper classic waiting to happen!

The chorus of “Lyfe” gives us the album’s title and it’s an authoritative, bluesy dance cut.  Lauper doesn’t sing as high or as loudly as she used to, but this track proves she doesn’t have to in order to command a track.  She’s still a dynamic vocal presence. 

Whereas most of the other tracks use the dance beat well, “Same Ol’ Story” is a little too clichéd in its arrangement, and makes you want to bob your head in a not-so-genuine fashion.  It’s a shame, because Lauper’s delivery as always is strong. Its chorus is the reason for the parental warning on the cover. It should probably be a hit, but only on the most mainstream dance music stations. 

“Raging Storm” also suffers from a little cheesy arrangement, and its world-gone-wrong message.  Once again, though it is saved a little by Lauper herself.  Her double-tracked vocals in different octaves are worth admission even if the song itself seems tired. 

“Lay Me Down” brings back the warmth, and glow.  It’s not as strong as “Echo” but it’s a soft-edged, atmospheric, soulful exercise. 

In contrast “Give It Up” has a lot of energy, but will only appeal to the most die-hard club music fans.  It’s got some righteous get-up-and-go, but it can wear out its welcome pretty quickly. 

“Set Your Heart” casts Lauper as a disco diva. It’s a role she plays rather well.  The track urges its subject to embrace the liberation which follows heartbreak. It’s an empowering song about not letting the world’s ills get you down.  “You’re free,” she exclaims at the peak of the track.   

“Grab a Hold” joins “Echo” and “Lay Me Down” as one of the album’s highlights.  It shows us a glimpse of the new-wave influenced Cyndi Lauper of yesteryear.  There’s something nice and familiar about the track’s sound, yet it also has elements of the album’s new style.  It’s a merging of old and new. 

The album ends on a high note with the bold ballad “Rain on Me” which is served well by its subtle go-go backing beat.  This is the kind of track Lauper was born to sing and it finally allows her to stretch out her voice a little more. The track also has some stellar use of electronic sounds. 

A lot of this album was produced by Swedish producers like Kleerup and Peer Astrom, but that makes sense because no one does pop quite like the Swedes.  Lauper can pull an album like this off because she has some great skill.  In the hands of a lesser talent, this could sound like a stale gimmick.  Not so, here. 

This may not quite be the Cyndi Lauper you remember, but it’s still the return of a warm, friendly voice of an often way too undervalued artist. “Bring Ya To The Brink” may have its uneven spots, but its highlights are essential.  If you like club music, this one is for you.   

May 30, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (0)

Review: Foxboro Hot Tubs’ “Stop Drop and Roll!!!”

May 23, 2008 11:43 AM

  “American Idiot” stands as one of the most profoundly brilliant and poignant records of this decade.  No doubt, it is going to be a difficult record to follow-up since it was so monumental in its scope.  Leave it to Green Day to dodge that menacing task by disguising themselves as a sixties-influenced garage-rock band called the Foxboro Hot Tubs.  In many ways it’s a brilliant move.  “American Idiot” was a pretty heavy album, subject-wise.  It was the album where the lovable goofball, wiseguy pop-punks grew up and gave us something immense. This new guise helps them lighten their load and let loose again like old times.  It’s a 32 minute blast of retro sounds, simple riffs and good-time attitude.  In comparison to “American Idiot,” some may consider it a bizarre step backwards, but it’s really meant to be nothing more than a big, fun rock record for the ages.  It has no obvious message or political agenda; it’s just a fun, fully retro romp complete with simple production and a loving wink to the bands of the past.  Consider this disc Green Day’s submission for Rhino’s next “Nuggets” boxed-set. 

It’s nice that the album’s title promotes good fire-safety techniques, and the title-track is a riff-tastic rocker. You can feel the steam coming off their amps as Billie Joe Armstrong’s voice mimics classic British Invasion harmonies over a punked-up, riff.  It’s obviously a Green Day cut, but it’s got a well-aged dingy sound not heard on their other records. 

“Mother Mary” borrows Iggy Pop’s “Lust For Life” rhythm much like Jet did a few years back for “Are You Gonna Be My Girl?”  This song is much cheerier and happier sounding than both those tracks.  Green Day’s biggest strength has always been their ability to steal from others and change things around just ever-so-slightly so that the tracks sound a bit familiar but nevertheless original.  It’s their gift. 

“Ruby Room” recalls their hit “Hitching a Ride,” with an addition of some sweet farfisa for good, authentic measure. The “Woo woo” background vocals are an intriguing addition. 

“Red Tide” recalls the best of the Kinks.  Mainly the track sounds like an altered take on the formula for “Tired of Waiting,” which Green Day has previously covered.  The tone of the guitar is perfect to imitate the era, and Tre Cool’s drums swing with ease. 

At 3:32, “Broadway” is the mammoth in comparison to the rest of the tracks.  It also sounds strikingly like a normal Green Day track with a beefier guitar riff, a bongo drum solo and more vocal harmonizing.  The dissatisfied references to “drinking gasoline” and the refrain of “it’s killing me” bring back memories of the edgy teen angst found on “Dookie.”

“She’s a Saint Not a Celebrity” borrows its main riff liberally from both Eddie Cochran’s “Summertime Blues” and “A Little Bit o’ Soul” by the Music Explosion. It’s a formula which has been often been bitten, sliced and diced and repurposed.  The track also possesses a defining Ramones-like crunch. 

“Sally” sounds like a more paisley-soaked answer the Monkees’ (I’m Not Your) Stepping Stone.”  The farfisa in combination with the mid-song rhythm-shifts, give the song weight and importance.

“Alligator” returns to Kinks-ville.  It’s a funhouse mirror answer to “You Really Got Me.”

“The Pedestrian” is typical, sunny Green Day pop-punk.  It should be a single.  It takes a bouncy riff and “whee-ohh-whee” background exclamations to arena-rock heights.  Again, there’s no doubt this is Green Day, and this track could have easily been an out-take from their “Nimrod” album. 

“27th Ave. Shuffle” blends early Stones, Who, and Beatles techniques together in a pop-rock stew.  Even though everything seems borrowed and effortless, it has it’s own new style.  Think about all the bands that have poorly tried to emulate Green Day and failed miserably.  Their level of skill is both underestimated and undeniable. 

“Dark Side of Night” is a nifty slightly reverb-drenched, softer number, recorded on an old-school analog 4-track.  The acoustic guitar strumming, Mike Dirnt’s steady bass, and Cool’s reverberating beat all resonate, but the real highlight of the track is the dynamite flute solo.  It embraces its retro-feel, but it sounds strangely authentic. 

The album closes with “Pieces of Truth,” an all-out rave-up that sounds like something that would’ve made the kids on “Shindig” go nuts and scream and yell.  It’s like a revved up answer to the Beatles’ version of “Twist and Shout” mixed with touches of “I Saw Her Standing There.”  The lively saxophone solo brings it all up to a whole other level of frantic greatness. 

Green Day aren’t the first band to hide behind another band-name.  In the mid eighties, XTC gave themselves a psychedelic makeover and briefly began recording as the Dukes of the Stratosphear.  This isn’t even the first time Green Day have done this, since they are also most likely 3/5 of the Devo-esque band The Network, who in 2003 released a wonderfully robotic album, “Money Money 2020.”

“Stop Drop and Roll!!! doesn’t pack the punch of “American Idiot,” but it’s not meant to.  It’s meant to be a back-to-basics exercise and a fun attempt at rock-and-roll bait and switch.  It’s simply a fun, rousing record. 

I think the Foxboro Hot Tubs just might go places!

May 23, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (7)

Review: Scarlett Johansson’s “Anywhere I Lay My Head”

May 21, 2008 10:39 AM

  Actors who decide to make albums have an uphill battle ahead of them.  Often times these albums are dismissed as shallow vanity projects, and/or the actor in question gets accused of using celebrity-status as an undeserved advancement chip. 

Many actors over the years have tried the singing game.  Recently it seems like there are more than ever.  Every now and then a brilliant record comes along like for instance Zooey Deschanel’s collaboration with M. Ward as “She & Him” or Jason Schwartzman’s excellent Coconut Records project.  Those albums are stellar and worthy of notice.   

Most of these albums though, wind up as little, interesting footnotes.  Minnie Driver has released two decent but forgettable albums.  Juliette Lewis fronts her own band, the Licks.  Even Peter Gallagher did an album of pseudo-soul music.  These albums will find their fan bases, but are in no danger of overshadowing these actors’ day-jobs. 

Of course, on the flip-side there are worse.  Ever heard Billy Bob Thornton’s music, or Russell Crowe’s band?  Some projects are “vanity projects” which should never see the light of day. 

So, when Scarlett Johansson announced she was going to do a collection of Tom Waits’ songs, tongues started to flap.  People were automatically going to expect the worst before hearing anything.  The project had Waits’ approval, which would mean something if years ago he hadn’t stood by while Rod Stewart murdered his song “Downtown Train.”  Nevertheless, despite that infraction on his part, Waits is a hip, cool guy who seems like he wouldn’t say yes to just about anything.  Add to the fact that Johansson’s album is produced by David Andrew Sitek from TV on the Radio and features work from Nick Zinner from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and you have an automatic seal of hipster cred.  I’m still a bit angry with Sitek for the over-hype of TV on the Radio’s “Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes,” but forgave him a little bit after hearing the excellent “Return to Cookie Mountain.”  Nevertheless, I accept him as an important artistic visionary of sorts. 

“Anywhere I Lay My Head” is not the train-wreck some would lead you to believe, but it’s not going to change your life either.  It sounds more like an interesting experiment than a traditional album. 

“Interesting” is a great, vague word to describe it, because it’s just an odd record.  If you consider the fact that Tom Waits is sort of an odd guy, maybe this is the kind of treatment he deserves.  He’s a man who gets by and thrives on being different.  That’s why people love him.  He’s one of the great, genius songwriters around and one of the most stirring performers as well. 

Johansson’s voice is a deep, throaty instrument, packed with rasp, so you could say Waits’ material strangely suits her.  She can’t caterwaul or go off the deep end quite like he can, and there’s not as much bile in her delivery, but it sort of fits. 

Johansson, most notably recently went on tour with the reunited Jesus and Mary Chain and sang back-up.  It seems to me that she also picked up some of their bummed-out, burned-out, bored-stiff shoegazer energy.  She’s about as deadpan as you can get.  Sitek’s arrangements are dense and owe a lot to other shoegaze innovators like My Bloody Valentine.  At times, Johansson sounds more like an eighties goth singer lost in the space/time continuum than an actress making a record.  Any one of these performances would have fit well on the woozy but hip soundtrack to her movie “Lost in Translation.”  Fans of French act M83’s latest album “Saturdays = Youth” might want to check this out as well. 

The album opens with the instrumental, “Fawn.”  This is some sort of inside joke surely.  It captures a Waits-esque bewildered, unhinged circus energy, but there’s something truly ironic about a listed artist not actually appearing on the opening track.   

“Town With No Cheer” begins with some spread-out, atmospheric sound.  When Johansson finally makes an appearance, she sounds like she’s smoked ten packs of cigarettes and like she could really use a stiff drink; perfect for covering Waits!  The doomed, somber tone of the song is felt in her cold delivery.  It’s as if she’s an observer looking down on this town, not caring what happens to its inhabitants.  She’s given some echo and reverb to make things a little spookier. 

“Falling Down” is the single.  There’s something about the expansive, immense production and the slowness of the song which brings to mind the Cure’s masterpiece, “Disintegration.”  Of course, when the banjo comes in, that feeling gets put aside, but this is a record which is meant to be turned up.  It is meant to envelop you, if you’ll let it.  Johansson sounds like she’s leading a stunned church choir, wrapped in a swirling abyss. 

The title track is next.  Remove the rinky-dink drum machine inside the track and the horn-section and it sounds even more like a reject from “Disintegration.”  Also, the tracks are so filled with sound, it’s as if Sitek is trying to craft his own “Wall-of-Sound.” I don’t know if Phil Spector’s production is an influence, but if he used modern technology, it might sound something like this.  Some would say Sitek is trying to cover Johansson’s voice, but I don’t.  Even buried, her voice is clear and somewhat unique in its register.  (She has a good voice in an untraditional sense.) I think the layers of sound are just meant to add depth to the project. 

The version of “Fannin Street” here sounds like some sort of orchestral synth-pop girl-group hybrid.  Its appealing goth doo-wop, if you can imagine such a thing. 

“Song for Jo” is the one song on here not written by Waits. Instead, it was crafted by Johansson and Sitek.  The good news is that it has an ever creepier energy, and that’s a good thing.  Johansson explores what I hope is her lowest octave over a swelling well of sound and a constant acoustic guitar pattern.  It’s a track built more on sonic tension than song structure, but it also shows a glimpse of a possible future beyond the Waits theme. 

On “Green Grass,” Johansson connects with her inner Tom Waits with the best success.  Her voice is again shockingly low as she seethes and growls her way through the song.  Sitek’s spacey layers of echo and atmosphere only add to the track’s disarming quality.  Again, with a Tom Waits song, uneasiness is a desired feeling!  He has never been one to write feel-good pop songs.  Perhaps that’s another reason why initial response to this album is chilly.  Waits’ music has rarely pandered to the masses.  His world is often an ugly, darkly ironic, strangely off-putting place.  The average pop fan needs to be spoon-fed everything in quick doses.  Tom Waits’ songs are brilliantly cerebral as well as unforgiving.  They don’t go down easy unless you are ready to handle them.  Maybe that’s the essence of their greatness. 

The fact that “I Wish I Was In New Orleans” begins with an eerie and discomforting, yet beautiful music box illustrates this point quite well.  It’s evident that Johansson, Sitek and all their various cohorts are trying to put emphasis on the darkness of Waits’ material.  They are doing so while giving it a new-wave gloss, which in turn makes it even more bothersome.  No wonder Waits said yes to this record.  For the wrong listener, it could be quite an uncomfortable ride.    Waits purists will definitely take issue with some of the risky arrangements, but they’ll just have to relax.  This is a loving tribute, not a cash-in.  When Johansson sings over the strange music box, it plays like a sweet lullaby version of a Dixieland stroll. Her voice almost falters as she sings, “I’ll drink you under the table,” but that kind of vulnerability has always been present in Waits himself.  He’s got a great voice, but it’s not a traditional voice.  Johansson is similarly, strangely gifted. 

“I Don’t Want To Grow Up” fails, by drowning the song is strange drum machines.  It’s the one song that takes the synthetics to their breaking point.  It sounds more like an over-juiced disco hit.  The liner-notes claim that the sound was influenced by New Order, but it doesn’t quite work as well as it should. The integrity of the original composition is lost in the mess.  This is however, the album’s only massive mis-step. 

“No One Knows I’m Gone” thankfully returns Johansson to slower, less frantic terrain.  This is where she excels. 

The album closes with Johansson and Sitek singing “Who Are You?” together.  It is a fittingly bothersome way to end the album.  Together their voices blend and cover one another.  Both their voices are unusually deep. 

The booklet that is packaged with the disc provides track-by-track insight on each track’s genesis, with commentary from both Johansson and Sitek.  That adds a whole other, much needed layer of understanding to this unusual album. 

“Anywhere I Lay My Head” is not a travesty.  For the most part, it succeeds.  It isn’t horrible by any stretch.  It’s also not the greatest album to come around the bend.  It’s somewhere in the upper-mid-range of the scale.  It is indeed a worthy experiment. 

As a side-note, may I add to, that I am not a particularly big fan of Johansson’s acting work.  I did enjoy “Lost In Translation,” “In Good Company” and “Match Point” a great deal, but I can’t say that Johansson was the reason, so rest assured that my judgment has not been clouded. 

Like it or not, Johansson deserves credit.  This was a gutsy move!  Tom Waits is a legend and his songs are not meant to be thrown around lightly.  She could have taken the easy way out and made a really bad pop record like Lindsay Lohan.  The fact that she chose to take a chance and make a record like this proves that she has artistic vision. 

“Anywhere I Lay My Head” is a better, more intriguing record than you probably think it would be.  It’s not as good as let’s say the brilliant She & Him album, but it is not an embarrassment either.

It’s “interesting.”

May 21, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (3)

Review: Death Cab For Cutie’s “Narrow Stairs”

May 20, 2008 4:00 PM

  On the much loved but sadly canceled show, “The O.C.,” Seth Cohen, one of the main characters, had such glowing love for Death Cab For Cutie that at times they were almost like a character on the show.  This, no doubt, along with hard work, helped the band secure a major label deal in 2005, moving to Atlantic records. 

“Narrow Stairs” is their second major label album, following up their very successful album “Plans.”  “Narrow Stairs” is also an improvement on their formula.  Considering that it’s their sixth album, it’s about time this perpetual “band on the brink” gets some glory. 

Lead singer, Ben Gibbard is likeable, although his lyrics do tend to get a little too self-aware.  It took me two years to learn to like his extremely popular side-project the Postal Service because of his lyrical tendencies.  (In the song “Nothing Better” for instance, he sang, “Will someone please call a surgeon, to crack my ribs and fix this broken heart?” It’s a little awkward and on –the-nose. There’s something almost nauseating and patronizing about his delivery of those lines.)

There were times on “Plans” when his sense of detail worked in his favor.  “Crooked Teeth,” for instance was a brilliant single.  “Soul Meets Body” also worked well.

On “Narrow Stairs,” either I’ve gotten more used to his quirks or he’s toned down a little bit.  They are no longer as big of a distraction, thankfully.

Guitarist, Chris Walla has made his name as an indie-rock producer as well, working with everyone from Nada Surf to the Stratford 4.  He also released a solo album earlier this year. On “Narrow Stairs” he also serves as producer. 

The album opens with “Bixby Canyon Bridge.”  The song begins with an ambient sonic wash and Gibbard’s voice setting up an intro.  Rather quickly the song emerges and blossoms.  The verses are given weight by subtle drumming and some guitar, before it all begins to rock out and become immense.  Gibbard’s voice is given nice distortion as his sings over hard-charging, heavy riffing.  Eventually, after jamming for a while, the song ends in a nice, unexpected mess of feedback. The feedback encases Gibbard’s voice which repeats a part of his intro amid the distortion.  Within 5 minutes the track takes us from a very quiet place, growing and becoming louder and more pronounced.  That’s the way to open an album!

Next is the 8-minute single, “I Will Possess Your Heart.”  Like the title-track to the band’s 2003 high-water-mark, “Transatlanticism,” it’s a slow-building epic that should stick with you for some time.  At the same time, the length, the instrumental touches and the overall sense of repetition recall the jam bands of the seventies like Traffic.  Maybe this is this generation’s “Low Spark of High Heeled Boys.” On second thought, maybe not.  Nevertheless, the track is a winner whether in its long form here, or its massively cut radio edit. 

“No Sunlight” is next, a quick and stellar power-pop number.  Sonically, it couldn’t be more different than “I Will Possess Your Heart,” but it would make a perfect second single.  It has a similar infectiousness as “Crooked Teeth.”

“Cath...” is next.  It is also a winner and a possible single.  It’s a little like an emo  ballad but it also plays on all of Death Cab’s strengths.  Lyrically, here, Gibbard is serving as a great storyteller, telling the story of his doomed, bridal-dress-wearing protagonist. He captures her uneasiness while his band-mates, Walla, Nicholas Harmer and Jason McGerr create a stirring backdrop.  Throughout “Narrow Stairs,” the band is at peak level.  They are tighter and better than ever.  This is just one of the many examples throughout the disc. 

“Talking Bird” begins as a slightly bluesy ballad about (you guessed it) a bird.  The bass gives it weight and fills empty space excellently until some defining guitar distortion gives the track real texture. 

“You Can Do Better Than Me” is just under two minutes and is driven by a walking piano, some punctuating organ bits, and a marching band style beat.  Despite its brevity, it sticks to the surface well. 

“Grapevine Fires” is another possible single, with Death Cab showing their softer side.  Once again, Gibbard’s sense of lyrical detail works in his favor.  The subject matter is a downer, but Death Cab have never been known to be a cheery band.  It’s a great song about a fire. How many of those are there? 

“Your New Twin Sized Bed” may very well be the best song on the disc.  It’s a song about abandoning a queen-sized bed and embracing loneliness.  The song works because it delivers the whole package.  The melody is appealing, the lyrics are sharp and the production is crisp and innovative.  No doubt there will be people who relate to the song’s somber sentiment as well.

“Long Division” is also almost as striking. It’s another strong slice of power-pop. (Hey, maybe those math skills do come in handy in every day life! They make good lyrical references, anyway!) When all their rockets are firing, Death Cab for Cutie can be a force to be reckoned with.

Tablas usher in the stirring “Pity and Fear.” The song has a creepy, ominous quality, while keeping a fast pace.  Once again, Walla’s production is at a dynamite level.

The song ends very abruptly, and the soft, wintery closer “The Ice Is Getting Thinner” begins.  It ends a solid album with no weak spots. 

The fact that this album is so good is a little bit of a shock.  Death Cab have always been reliable, but here they are at the top of their game.  Like Jimmy Eat World’s 2001 album, “Bleed American,” “Narrow Stairs” should serve as a significant game-changer, introducing Death Cab For Cutie to a much wider audience.  It surpassed my expectations and is a welcome surprise.

Maybe Seth Cohen was onto something.  No doubt, he’d be pleased.    

May 20, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (1)

Review: Duffy’s “Rockferry”

May 19, 2008 5:21 PM

  Novices might jump to compare the new Welsh singer Duffy to Amy Winehouse or Joss Stone. While those comparisons hold, she really comes off more as like a soulful mix between the singer Holly Golightly and Sia.  Her debut, “Rockferry,” is an assured, well-informed, schooled pop record packed with history.  She may also field comparisons to the likes of Dusty Springfield and Nancy Sinatra due to the retro-glow filtered throughout the disc. 

“Rockferry” opens with its title track.  It’s built upon the kind of slow, bluesy piano part you’d expect to find on a quieter section of a White Stripes record.  One can picture Jack White singing something behind her, until the full-fledged orchestra comes in, leading the track into a realm that recalls Motown/Stax, and the work of Phil Spector all at once.  “Rockferry” is the kind of track that would’ve been a real soul-burner in 1967.  Now, it’ll probably get lost in the eager-to-please pop shuffle. 

“Warwick Avenue” is another slice of blues balladry.  Like Winehouse’s “Back to Black” this record should please both indie-rock snobs and R&B fans.  Duffy has a niceness to her.  She comes off as normal and doesn’t have that slightly down-and-dirty edge that has become Winehouse’s calling card.  That is by no means to say that Duffy isn’t exciting to listen to.  Her slightly nasal-y, yet raspy, soul-fueled delivery is a testament to her great skill.  She’s even able to make somewhat typical lines like “Baby, you’ve hurt me” and “I want to be free,” sound like something new and interesting.  She also takes command when backed by an orchestra, which is no easy feat.

“Serious” is more upbeat.  It’s almost a light summer dance groove.   Again, it’s fueled by a nice hook and some really classic-style band work.  The strings in particular give the track extra punch. 

“Stepping Stone” is an earthy, ominous-sounding tell-off. “I will never be your Stepping Stone,” she declares.  (Has she been listening to the Monkees?) In any case, this too would make an excellent single. 

“Syrup & Honey” is one of the deepest examples of intimate blues-balladry ever performed by someone from across the pond.  Sure, for years, white folks from the U.K. have taken great influence by borrowing from and plundering this uniquely Southern, African-American sound.  With the wrong artist, it could come off as a gimmick, but Duffy pulls it off completely! She knows how to deliver the material as carefully as it deserves. Her voice is sweet but powerful in a unique sort of way.  One can picture her singing this is a wheat field at sunset.  This is not the kind of material you find on your average pop record, today.

“Hanging On Too Long” has a similar feeling as “Stepping Stone.”  Duffy specializes in these heart-on-the-sleeve, minor-key sketches of a woman-done-wrong.  She plays the part well.  When the chorus takes us in a soaring direction, the track’s excellence is sealed. 

“Mercy” is the album’s single.  It’s a soul-a-go-go number, backed by farfisa and some kickin’ old-school guitar work.  “You got me beggin’ you for mercy,” she yells with the same conviction and drive Aretha used to demand “Respect.”  It’s an upbeat, retro-boogie, meant to bring crowds to their knees.  It succeeds. 

On “Delayed Devotion,” Duffy proves once again she can handle a strong hook with nice piano and string-work. It’s another possible single. 

“I'm Scared” is downright cinematic with its opening strings and its soft piano chording.  Duffy’s voice comes in with exactly the right amount of reverb to match the tone of the track.  Again, it’s another soft ballad which lifts itself with a major chorus.  Many singers would kill to sing a song like this. 

“Distant Dreamer” closes the album.  It’s one of those whimsical songs about plans for the future.  It could be sappy and syrupy, but it isn’t.  Maybe it’s the arrangement.  Maybe it’s the way the guitars are played with just as much vigor as the string section.  Maybe it’s the slow build that eventually welcomes horns also into the mix.  It’s hard to say, but like the rest of “Rockferry,” this track is golden. 

It seems interesting that new British singers these days are going back to such a classic sound.  Duffy joins the list along with the before-mentioned Winehouse and Stone, and other soul-revivalists like Corinne Bailey Rae, Jamie Lidell and many more.  The more natural R&B tone has long fueled the American neo-soul movement, but the Brits have taken their revivalism and their level of respect for the classics to a whole new peak.  Compared to the stale, computerized, electronically manipulated material crowding American R&B radio, this is a breath of fresh air.  I guess sometimes it’s time to scrap everything and restart the cycle.  Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings are the only major American players I see heading for such a timeless sound.  I hope more will follow.  A classic sound is a classic sound.  Do it right, and you’ll make something classic! It’s as simple as that!

May 19, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (1)

Review: Nine Inch Nails’ “The Slip”

May 16, 2008 12:28 PM

  What’s Trent Reznor trying to do?  He’s beginning to make all those musicians who take comfortable 4-year-breaks between records just look lazy. “The Slip” is his second album in two months.  If you were just getting used to your hard-copy of the fantastic double-disc instrumental album “Ghosts I-IV,” now you’ve got even more to listen to.  It’s a great time to be a Nine Inch Nails fan.  This is a mind-blowing turn of events when you consider “Year Zero” hit shelves last April and a “Year Zero” remix collection arrived last November.  Even if you don't count his side project with rapper Saul Williams, in the last year or so, Reznor has released five discs worth of material roughly mirroring his output throughout the entire nineties!  He’s filled with ideas and they apparently just keep coming. 

“The Slip” arrived as a free download from the Nine Inch Nails website last week.  Like “Ghosts I-IV,” it will eventually be given the standard CD treatment.  The freeness of the album is an interesting marketing tactic, and it’ll be fascinating to see how the CD version sells when it arrives in July.  The move has been pitched as a thank you to the fans probably due to the previous success of “Ghosts I-IV.”

“The Slip” is Reznor’s leanest, most straightforward outing since his now 19-year-old debut album “Pretty Hate Machine.”  Like that record, it has only a modest 10 tracks.  “The Slip” clocks in at less than 44 minutes, but not a second of that time is wasted

The record opens in similar ambient territory as was often found on the “Ghosts” discs. “999,999” is an ominous, industrial hum packed with texture and mystery. It only lasts about minute and a half, and near the end of that time Reznor’s voice quickly fades in to ask, “How did I slip in-?,” and with that, seemingly mid-word, he is cut off.

With a bang “1,000,000” begins.  The drums kick in like a hurricane with a relentless 4-count pound.  The guitars seethe and hiss, as they get coated with perhaps more blankets of electronically fuzzed up notes.  Reznor shouts at us, more alive than ever, like a man resurrected from the far reaches of the abyss. This song is probably a killer live.  “I feel a million miles away,” he yells, showcasing his trademark isolation-themed lyrics. But as on his other post-2005 work, he sounds like he’s actually enjoying himself.  Even at his screamiest, it is evident that this is the work of a man who is bathing himself in the joys of the creative process. 

When “Letting You” kicks in, the album’s overall sound begins to become apparent.  The drums are the real backbone here.  After the mechanized beats of “Year Zero,” here the focus is on making everything sound bold and visceral.  The drums sock you in the ears with repeated “thwaaaapps!” This sounds more like the work of a band than some of the other more electronic-leaning releases.  “Letting You,” in fact sounds like a dose of hardcore-style venom with slight electronic touches.  It possesses a similar energy to “March of Pigs” from “The Downward Spiral,” although its beat, though fast, is a little slower and more off-kilter.  It’s a wonderful slice of noise!  Guitars wail, Reznor screams, the drums slap and everything is just right! 

“Discipline” may be the finest rock single that Reznor has ever recorded.  With a basic musical pattern similar to “Head Like a Hole” (with more guitars and fewer drum-machines) this is an absolutely perfect Nine Inch Nails song.  It feels like Reznor packed everything he learned in the last 19 years into this song.  Even down to the subversive, almost sadomasochistic main chorus of “I need your discipline...  Once I start I cannot stop myself.”   He even adds some nice, melodic “whoo-hoos” for good pop measure, and the piano that comes in sounds like it was transplanted from some of the more delicate passages of “Ghosts I-IV.”  Yet the song rocks and pounds at you like an enjoyable sledgehammer.  This track showcases Nine Inch Nails in a nutshell in just over 4 minutes. 

The beat to “Echoplex” skitters a little more than the other songs heard thus far on the disc, fueled by an insistent, highly effective guitar line.  The tune to the song takes some nice minor key turns and the refrain of “My voice just echoes off these walls” is just about as catchy as you can get.  It would make another great single. 

Once again, the beat is king on “Head Down.”  Distortion is all around and the ultimate tone is pleasurably venomous.  Reznor is a sonic master and over the years has committed some of the coolest sounds to record.  What he does with the guitar/electronic mishmash on this track is spellbinding. In others’ hands it would be just noise.  In his hands, it’s dynamic and inspiring. 

“Lights in the Sky” is an intimate piano number.  It’s got the same kind of beautiful tension as the classic single, “Hurt.”  The lyrics are typically dark. “Watching you drown / I’ll follow you down. / I am here right beside you. / The lights in the sky / Have finally arrived. / I am staying right beside you.”  These lines are as comforting as they are tormented, especially delivered in such a gentle whisper. This paradoxical element is probably one of Reznor’s best hallmarks.

The track fades and morphs into “Carona Radiata,” another ambient instrumental.  It’s seven and a half minutes, but it’s completely worthy.  Beneath an ever-present one-note fuzz, some tuneful elements can be detected.  All you have to do is close your eyes and try to focus on the details.  If you can really listen to the track with the attention to detail it demands, it proves to be extremely rewarding.   Midway, the fuzz gives way to make room for a slow, threatening beat.  Beeps and bloops enter the picture and guitars fade in to create something as menacing as it is thrilling. 

“The Four of Us Are Dying” is next, with one of the band’s most appealing guitar lines.  Again, it’s another instrumental.  Putting two instrumentals in a row was an interesting move.  Were these left over from the “Ghosts” sessions?  They build on a similar mood, but are a little more unruly.  Once again, the simple piano line is beautiful, even if the guitar-lines are more dominating. 

The album closes with “Demon Seed.”  It’s the most electronic sounding track on the album.  “It keeps growing.  I can feel it breathe,” Reznor whispers in typical fashion.  Aside from the “yeah, yeah, yeah,” background vocals, this is nothing we haven’t heard before on a Nine Inch Nails album, but that doesn’t make it any less hypnotizing.  At this point, the group’s style is so well formed, and well-executed, there’s really nothing to pick at.  When the album ends, it ends with abrupt silence. 

Like his other recent records, a broken-down unmixed version of the album is also available so fans can craft their own remixes.  Reznor’s unapologetic embrace of the fan-made remix as an art-form is appealing and refreshing.

“The Slip” is yet another stunning masterwork.  How many more of these can Reznor and his band churn out before the end of 2008?  I’m guessing we’ll probably get more, and the way things are going, we won’t be disappointed in the least.  I’d like to have a whole stack of records like this by year’s end. 

May 16, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (2)

In Honor of Mother’s Day – A List of Some of the Best Songs About Mothers

May 09, 2008 12:04 AM

Mother’s Day is this weekend, so I thought it would be fitting to list 10 of my favorite songs about Mothers.

10. Fatboy Slim – “Ya Mama” (2000) – This song is a guitar-fueled rocker of an electronica track named for its refrain, “shake what ya mama gave ya!”  Throughout the majority of the track it repeats the phrase “Push the tempo!”  It really has very little to do with Mother’s Day.  It’s just on here because it thoroughly rocks!

9. Elliott Smith – “Wouldn’t Mama Be Proud” (2000) – This is from “Figure 8,” the last album Elliott Smith released in his lifetime, but not his last album.  It’s one of his greatest, most memorable songs too, describing a rock star selling out and having success and then asking the question “Wouldn’t Mama Be Proud?” There’s a vague line here and there, references to plane-rides and “the heavenly host,” but that just proves even in life (as he is in death) Smith was a man of mystery. 

8. Tracy Bonham – “Mother Mother” (1996) – In this, Bonham’s most famous song, she writes a letter home to her mother about her quest for success.  The verses are serene and reassuring, saying things like “life is perfect, never better,” while the choruses scream with ferocious uneasiness. “I’m hungry, I’m dirty, I’m losing my mind!” The capper is the completely unhinged way she screams “Everything’s fine!!!” If I got a letter like this, I’d be worried. 

7. Kanye West – “Hey Mama” (2005) – Three years ago Kanye paid tribute to his now late mother and illustrated what a great influence she was on him.  It’s a gloriously soulful track written out of great love and respect.  When she died unexpectedly last year, the track got some addition attention.

6. The Police – “Mother” (1983) – One of the few Police tracks not written by Sting.  It’s Andy Summers’ tormented, Eastern-tinged, almost punk shouting match.  It’s a rather uncomfortable listen, but it’s darkly funny with its manic vocal outbursts. “The telephone is ringing!!!  Is that my mother on the phone!!???”  It’s the strangest track the band ever recorded, placed firmly in the middle of their poppiest record!  It’s excellently subversive. 

5. The Beatles – “Julia” (1968) – One of the many highlights on the Beatles’ “White Album” is John Lennon’s soft tribute to his mother.  She died when he was very young and that sense of sadness carries through in the sparse, moving track.  It’s a song that has been written about extensively for good reason.  As quiet as it may be, it speaks volumes.  Two years later, Lennon recorded the more wince-inducing “Mother.” He was obviously deeply affected by her death. 

4. The Rolling Stones – “Mother’s Little Helper” (1966) – This one is a humorous if not odd ode to stressed-out, pill-popping mothers.  One of the strangest drug-influenced songs of the sixties, but it also captured the older generation’s angst and frustration with youth culture.  “What a drag it is getting old!”

3. Herman’s Hermits – “Mrs. Brown, You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter” (1965) – Perhaps the best song ever written about a guy trying to win over the mother of the girl who broke his heart.  Yes, it seems like it’s all about kissing up in order to win back her affection, but it’s delivered really nicely. You can almost imagine Mrs. Brown telling her daughter later, “He’s a nice boy.  You should give him another chance.”  The track also evolves really well from section to section. Probably one of the most melodic and under-rated songs of the era.  Their version isn’t the original, but it may be the best. 

2. The Shirelles – “Mama Said” (1961) -- This is girl-group gold.  Two minutes of pop enjoyment with a chorus that won’t get out of your head. “Mama said there’d be days like this, there’d be days like this, my Mama said.”  Not much happens in the song. The protagonist pretty much just meets a guy and she falls in love, but it’s a clear winner.  Mom’s advice is vague, but good pop songs often are.

1. Liz Phair – “Little Digger” (2003) - Phair got a lot of flack for her self-titled pop album from her indie-purist fan-base, and yes, it was disappointing to see someone who had done something as monumental as “Exile In Guyville” selling-it-all-out attempting to get airplay.  I want to go on record that I’ve enjoyed and appreciated every one of her records and that even on her “pop” records, the same elements that I liked about her were still present.  Phair can really set a scene.  Her attention to lyrical detail has always been her strength, and on those later albums, she still possesses that skill only with shinier, more invasive production.  “Little Digger” is a solid example.  It is about being divorced and having her small son be introduced to a new man in her life. Usually when singers write songs about their children, it can be very irritating and almost cloying.  Here, it is tenderly explained and all the issues are spilled out on the table.  The son plays with trucks with the new man, but he tells him “This one's my favorite one. This one you can't have. I got it from my dad.”  The son also gets endearingly possessive when he declares “my mother is mine.”  Divorce is an issue affecting many mothers, and it’s a subject not talked about in many songs. No song I can think of better illustrates a mother/child bond.  This should’ve been a single.  In fact my biggest problem with Phair's "pop" period (her last two albums) was that her label, Capitol, was marketing her the wrong way  and was for the most part releasing her weakest songs as singles. ("Extraordinary" is the exception.)  When it all comes down to it, Phair is an ace songwriter and deserves her due. Thankfully, a reissue of “Guyville” is on the way, and she is back on an indie, having just signed to ATO.  That should please just about everyone.

Happy Mother’s Day!   What are your favorite Mother-referencing songs? 

May 9, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (10)

Review: Portishead’s “Third”

May 06, 2008 5:28 PM

Back in 1994, Portishead’s classic debut album “Dummy” set a new standard for the then-growing genre of trip-hop.  Combining a cool, eerie jazziness, a flare for old movie scores and inventive, ground-breaking beat-work, the group found themselves immediately classic.  “Dummy” still stands as one of the best albums of the nineties.  It is funny though to imagine that something like their massive single “Sour Times” actually had some traction on pop radio.  (Sadly, today it probably wouldn’t, but back then radio was much more open to experimentation thanks to the alternative revolution.)

Three years later, the band returned with a self titled effort.  It was a tad darker than “Dummy” and it found lead-singer Beth Gibbons taking on an interesting vocal-affectation on a few tracks.  The single “All Mine” sounded like a James Bond theme from another dimension. 

A year later, they released “PNYC.”  It was a stellar live album featuring backup from a relatively sizable orchestra. 

“Third” is the band’s first studio album in 11 years, which in the music world is an almost unforgivable eternity, but time has been good to them.  The industry hasn’t forgotten them in the least, thus they return retaining their much respected status.  Their recent, triumphant performance at the Coachella music festival also made it clear that their status is still well-deserved. 

As an album, “Third” finds the band in their weirdest place yet.  The integrity of their signature style is still intact, although this album sadly lacks the turntable element present on their first two records.  You’ll be hard-pressed to find an artsier, edgier, darker, more claustrophobic album this year.  This is a challenge, but it’s also a thrill.  Listeners expecting something simple should look elsewhere, for this is some heavy, tripped-out material.   

It begins with “Silence,” which is anything but.  Rather, it’s a frantically-paced, almost threatening-sounding workout. The drums crash, the bass throbs, while spooky guitar-crescendos bounce around the track.  More than two minutes into the song, the instrumentation takes a backseat and Gibbons enters, sounding more haunted and tormented than ever.  This is not music for a party, more like the best score for a horror movie ever constructed. 

“Hunter” sounds like it should be more peaceful, with its relaxed tone.  It sounds like a chilled torch-song until the guitar crashes in a long, dissonant note.  Once it regains composure, your sense of uneasiness is thrown a bone by a sudden “Twilight Zone”-esque organ.  The track is woozy.  It is also winning.  Gibbons is a stellar vocalist in the oldest sense.  If she wanted, she could whip up a collection of jazz standards, but this is way more interesting. 

“Nylon Smile” begins with some squeaky guitar and a pounding almost eastern-sounding pounded rhythm.  It’s another terrorized jazz sketch given the most twisted of backdrops, but that merely sets the mood. 

“The Rip” is more peaceful.  With a soft beeping sound, an acoustic guitar fades in, while Gibbons sings with an old-time-style echo on her voice.  It has its minor-key bends, but this is among the brightest tracks on here.  When it picks up, and the keyboards take over, the track gets coated in a glorious texture, and it almost brings to mind the work of Goldfrapp.  Portishead have never used keyboards quite like this before, and it’s a momentous step. 

“Plastic” brings back the darkness.  Again, Gibbons sounds scared, as a picking, swirling sound takes over your speakers.  An organ fades in, giving way to crisp drums which throttle your ears.  The almost-helicopter-like sound continues, until it is brought to a head by more well-placed dissonance. 

“We Carry On” is easily the score to your next trip to a haunted mansion.  I don’t know how many haunted mansions you ever go to, but if you ever were to go to one, this would be fitting accompaniment.  Never have Portishead sounded so tightly-wound and tense.  The drums go from a nervous, continuous pound to a strong marching-band assault, while an organ bangs out a quickly-repeated three-note refrain.  Again, the guitars are used to add a layer of dissonance. 

“Deep Water” sounds like a breather, a break from the tension.  It’s like an old-time ukulele-esque number, with Gibbons singing in her highest sweetest tone. The track sounds ancient, and the nice background vocals from The Somerfield Workers Choir and Team Brick add to the effect.

“Machine Gun” is the album’s challenging single.  It seems to be named for its almost intrusive rat-a-tat-tat beat.  When I first heard it a few months ago, I must admit I was not that wild about it, but that was because I first heard on youtube.  The sound quality there is not always the best, and the mixing made the beat sound even louder.  Now that I can hear it as it was intended, mixed down on real stereo-speakers, I completely understand why it was picked as a single.  Not only that, but towards the end, the track trips-out into a new sonic universe.  At first it seems monotonous, but it grows and changes.  Again, it is helped by some nice keyboard work.  My first impression was wrong.  This track is great, but it probably won’t have a “Sour Times” level of success. 

“Small” is at first a soft guitar-driven ballad.  Then a soft, insistent cello line comes in.  Suddenly a time-counting, spooky organ takes over, with guitar sounds punctuating the tension.  The drums kick in and the group takes an extended, very psychedelic instrumental break.  It is stunning and hypnotizing, until it stops and Gibbons and the cello make their return.  This is some moody, darkly beautiful material. 

“Magic Doors” begins with a long beeping noise. Then a tripping beat enters with enough cowbell to make Christopher Walken happy.  The Hurdy Gurdy on the track adds a whole other weird element, as does Goldfrapp’s Will Gregory’s squeaky saxophone freak-out.   It’s a strange, interesting guest-turn. 

The record closes with “Threads,” which continues the line of uneasiness.  It may be the band’s best, clearest example of the album’s sound.  It is sparse and minor.  As it picks up, the guitar distortion adds more dissonance.  Gibbons lyric of “I’m always so unsure” adds to the chaos.  Indeed she and her Portishead bandmates Geoff Barrow and Adrian Utley have once again produced something different and ground-breaking. 

“Third” is odd but fully rewarding.  Like Radiohead, Portishead have never feared to try out new textures and challenge their audience.  Let’s hope it doesn’t take them another 11 years to follow this up. This time the wait was well worth it!

May 6, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (1)

Review: Madonna’s “Hard Candy”

May 01, 2008 10:47 AM

Madonna’s last great album was “Ray of Light,” a decade ago.  Her last near-great album was “Music” in 2000.  Ever since then, she’s been sort of fumbling around.  2003’s “American Life” found her awkwardly musing about everything from society to religious practices.  In the title track, she attempted to rap.  It served as perhaps the most embarrassing moment of her career.   “Confessions on a Dance Floor” in 2005, probably pleased the segment of her fan-base that enjoys club music, but that album’s seamless progression and “pre-remixed” effect, drowned most of the disc's’ lasting effect out, thus for the most part, making it almost a misfire.  So Madonna needs a really good album right now to put her back on top.  She has an undeniable and undisputed, well-earned and deserved pop legacy, and she is now a new member of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but she could always use another all-out classic. 

It is perhaps for this reason that her new album “Hard Candy” screams, “this is a sell-out record,” throughout its 12 tracks.  It is after all her last album for Warner Brothers before her new Live Nation deal takes effect and removes her from the major-label system.  She obviously wanted to go out with a bang.  Here she is working with two of the biggest hit names in pop production today.  Roughly half the album is produced by the Neptunes, while the other half is produced by Timbaland with assistance from Justin Timberlake. 

Madonna working with Timberlake is a sad sign to me. She’s better than that.  I have actually never understood his appeal to be honest. (I was also disappointed when Duran Duran chose to work with him on their last album, “Red Carpet Massacre.”) All I see is a scrawny kid doing a so-so, somewhat sleazy Michael Jackson impression.  Madonna, on the other hand is an original.  It’s hard to really compare her to anyone else in the pop world before her, so it’s bothersome to hear Madonna and Timberlake trading verses on the single “4 Minutes.” Thanks also to Timberlake’s jarring speech at Madonna’s Rock Hall Induction ceremony, it’s also hard to listen the track without thinking of B-12 shots in questionable places!  So, as omni-present as that single certainly is right now, and as much hit potential as it may have, it is overshadowed by Timberlake’s presence. 

Not only that, but you could argue that Timberlake has also sucked all the edginess out of Timbaland.  About a decade ago, Timbaland was one of the most forward-thinking and progressive producers in hip-hop and pop.  His work with Missy Elliott and the late singer Aaliyah was at times downright astounding, simply because he was incorporating all kinds of near trip-hop elements into songs which were actually getting pop-radio play.  I miss that side of Timbaland.  Now all I see is a sidekick to Timberlake, (and the guy who ruined…er, “reinvented” Nelly Furtado.)  I listen to Timbaland’s current work and it makes me long for something more exciting.  Sure, every now and again, he gets a rare opportunity to show his old self, as he did with recent quality collaborations with Bjork and M.I.A., but that side of him is not on display enough.  He should have given Madonna the edgier Bjork/M.I.A. treatment.  Her legacy deserves that, but instead he treats her like a random “pop-star,” giving her the Furtado/Timberlake treatment.  Madonna can handle edge.  He should’ve given her more to play with.  Consider the fact that she recorded “Ray of Light” with ambient-wizard, William Orbit, who wasn’t exactly known for pop albums. 

Consider “Miles Away” on which Timbaland gives Madonna a rather standard flamenco-esque acoustic guitar part to sing over.  She does decently with it, but that’s because, she is Madonna after all, but as modern pop-songs go, this is rather standard, boilerplate material. 

He tries on “Dance 2Night” but again Timberlake is there to spoil the party.  If Madonna was singing alone, the track’s sunny, semi-low-key pseudo-disco groove would be reminiscent of “Holiday,” but there’s a small damper bringing it down from the moment Timberlake subtly says at the start in a somewhat surly whisper “Hey Madonna, I’m takin’ you to the club.”  (Oh, are you now?  Thanks man, you just ruined a perfectly promising bass-line.  This is a Madonna album, not a Timberlake album, and it’s likely that many of her longtime fans would be just as troubled by his seemingly never-ending presence as I am.) As usual, Madonna pulls the track off, despite Timberlake. 

The team has somewhat more success on the softer “Devil Wouldn’t Recognize You.”  It’s the perfect mid-tempo piece for Madonna, and the best Timbaland/Timberlake track. 

Similarly, the record’s closer, “Voices” works, powered by a propelling, though somewhat standard beat.  Again, it would be better without Timberlake’s background vocals. 

For the most part, the Neptunes have more success. Like Timbaland, the production duo of Chad Hugo and Pharrell Williams have two sides.  There are the records they churn out to make an easy buck, (Britney Spears, Justin Timberlake, Madonna-wanna-be Gwen Stefani) and there are their more respectable experimental records (Kelis’ first album, Hugo’s work with Kenna, and their rock band N*E*R*D*)  Again, like Timbaland, the Neptunes short-change Madonna and take few chances, and to too many tracks have that standard Neptunes beat, but they are still well constructed. 

Like Timberlake, Pharrell insists on taking the mic and singing backup, but he his inclusion is more of a production signature than an intrusion.  “Candy Shop” sports the sort of skuzzy funk that the Neptunes have  perfected, complete with winkingly cheesy synth-line accents. 

“Give It 2 Me” is somewhat forgettable until it takes a nice u-turn mid-song and gives us some inspired and strange bell sounds.  If only the song had more of that energy. 

On “She’s Not Me” the team gives Madonna a nice disco funk to work.  Does it sustain its appeal for six minutes?  Not quite, but for a good four or so it works. 

“Incredible” is a little too busy and not all that catchy.  It also is too long.  For at least a while though, its dizzying quality could be seen as almost interesting. 

“The Beat Goes On” is a standard booty-shaking disco number.  Again, it’s sort of forgettable, but Pharrell and Madonna do have some nice vocal interplay, and it has a nice surprise guest appearance by Kanye West.  When West hits the mic, it’s like a much-needed wake-up call. 

Remember what I said about “Miles Away?”  On “Spanish Lesson,” the Neptunes deliver their own flamenco-style groove, but this one is much more peppy and thrilling.  It’s a standout track. 

Throughout “Hard Candy” Madonna and her producers take us on a mildly satisfying romp through pop-land, but the album is short on classics.  There is one hit standout, however, which towers greatly over the rest of the disc.  Madonna has a history of putting great tunes on otherwise weak albums. Think about what a breath of fresh air “Hollywood” was on “American Life” or “Rain” on “Erotica.”

“Heartbeat” continues that trend.  It’s a Neptunes track, but it is glorious and stacks up well next to classic songs of the past.  If it isn’t eventually a single, than it’s a missed chance at another hit.

  Sure, “Hard Candy” is Madonna’s best album since “Music.”  That isn’t really saying much.  It’s enjoyable but as a whole, it doesn’t even come close to her eighties hey-day or even most of her nineties work.  She took the easy route and made the poppiest of records when she should be doing so much more. 

At this point in her career, she should be taking chances.  I’d like to see what she’d do if she made a record with the Dust Brothers, or Mark Ronson, or even someone as avant-guard as Tricky.  She was headed in that direction by working with William Orbit, but then decided to reclaim her pop roots.  It’s a path I hope she still someday explores. 

“Hard Candy” definitely has its weaknesses, but after all these years, Madonna is still a star.  Her voice is surprisingly clear and not digitally altered throughout.  It’s refreshing.  Pop music is in a very bad place right now.  Even when her producers let her down and underestimate her, Madonna can still show everyone how it’s done. 

May 1, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (3)