Cloud Nothings
Attack on Memory
Carpark

By Al Kaufman

Almost every band for the past five years has made the lead of song for their album, if not their best one, at least one that reaches out and grabs, that pulls the listener in. Dylan Baldi, the man behind Cleveland, Ohio’s Cloud Nothings, does just the opposite. “No Future/No Past” is a long, bass-driven droning number that seems to go on for much longer than its four-and-a-half minutes. But that’s sort of the point. On this Steve Albini-produced sophomore record, Baldi wants you to forget all about the Cloud Nothings more simplistic past. This is a new band with a new sound, even if that sound is Weezer on Quaaludes.

But that sound changes, for the better, on track two. “Wasted Days” gives out more of a garage vibe, until the hypnotic instrumental that ends the song kicks in. Again, unnecessary and overlong, but more bearable here. “Fall In” is a sort of alt-country/punk, like an Uncle Tupelo/Green Day mash-up that somehow works. And by song four, “Stay Useless,” the band has found its straight-ahead garage sound. “No Sentiment” gets a bit Gothy, but the CD ends with “Cut You,” a no-holds barred rocker that the Strokes would be proud to call their own. It is the best song on the album, and also the last. The Cloud Nothings do things backwards here, but for those who put in the effort, the end result is worth the wait.

Cloud Nothings play The EARL with A Classic Education and Gold Bears on February 17.

Ben Kweller
Go Fly a Kite
Noise

By Al Kaufman

If Nick Lowe was the Jesus of cool of the 20th century, then Ben Kweller appears ready to take over the role for the new millennium. Kweller writes pure pop for now people. It’s tight and crisp without being trite. Every song on here sounds like a radio hit, but not one that you would grow sick of quickly.

Kweller opens Go Fly a Kite with “Mean To Me,” which immediately draws the Lowe comparisons. It’s great pop with smart lyrics and a touch of punk attitude. “Out the Door” begins sounding like an early Dylan rocker before morphing into some gorgeous Jayhawk harmonies. “Jealous Girl” has a certain Phil Spector wall of sound to it, complete with “whoa-oh-oh-oh” choruses.

If the album only contained those first three songs it would be worth the cost, but Kweller never lets up. “Full Circle” has more of an Americana sound that made up most of Kweller’s last album, Changing Horses. “Time Will Save the Day” offers up a garage rock style, while closer, “You Can Count On Me” is a jangly, upbeat ditty, even though it starts with the dark, “It’s a sad day ’cause all my old friends have changed.” He then assures his friend that he has not changed and will always be there for her.

With lots of piano and guitars, Kweller has created a fluid sound even while dabbling in so many genres. But the greatest thing about Go Fly a Kite is the packaging itself. Kweller appreciates people who go out and buy the concrete item. The album cover can be turned into a diorama of a pleasant outdoor scene, which includes bands playing, mothers nursing, and skeletons throwing strawberries. In addition, Kweller not only encloses the lyrics, but the chords and keys of each song, so that people may play along at home. He understands that music is for the people. He’s a cool guy, who also happens to be one hell of a songwriter.

Red Wanting Blue
From the Vanishing Point
Fanatic Records

By Al Kaufman

Red Wanting Blue plays slick, mainstream pop-rock songs. That could be the whole review right there, but it would leave the layout for this review wanting. It’s like Train or Hootie and the Blowfish, or, to a lesser extent, Counting Crows. It’s that kind of stuff that you know would sound good live, but loses something within the sterile confines of a recording studio.

Scott Terry writes of hoping, surviving, loving, moving on and loving life; all kinds of nice big anthem-like stuff. And he occasionally sings it in a slightly poppier version of Eddie Vedder’s mumbling grumble, most notably on “Stay On the Bright Side” and “Ballad of Nobodies.” He and the band can even get a little harder edged on songs such as “Dinosaur,” which recalls Stone Temple Pilots in their heyday. But too often they fall into that slick pop that clogs up the airwaves. The lyrics “I’ll be there for you” need never be heard in another pop song, but Red Wanting Blue makes them the chorus in the generic “Audition,” which, naturally, is the album’s first single.

But there is some promise here. “Playlist” has a nice ’70s funk-pop groove, and they throw a change-up with the folksy “Walking Shoes,” in which Terry gets to show off his ukulele skills. And it’s really hard not to like a country-tinged love song titled “Cocaine.” “You’re like cocaine. I take you in ’til I go numb,” sings Terry. What girl would not swoon at getting compared to the white powder?

After a few self-releases, From the Vanishing Point is the band’s first album for a label, so maybe they can be forgiven for turning a few too many knobs in the studio. These are talented musicians who love their work and can play a good pop-rock song. Maybe on their next release they’ll be able to do more.

Red Wanting Blue plays Smith’s Olde Bar on February 27.

Amy LaVere
Stranger Me
Archer Records

By Al Kaufman

Turbulent times often leads to great art. Such is the case with Amy LaVere. While preparing to make her third album three years ago, her producer and mentor, Jim Dickenson, died of complications from triple bypass surgery. Then her guitarist, Steve Selvidge, left to join The Hold Steady. But what really made things sticky was when she broke up with longtime boyfriend and drummer, Paul Taylor. She missed his studio presence and he ended up agreeing to drum on the album, creating that delicious tension that is evident in other groups with broken relationships, such as Fleetwood Mac and Eurythmics. LaVere also recruited Craig Silvey (who mixed Arcade Fire’s Suburbs) to produce, and multi-weird-instrumentalist Rick Steff (who plays the mellotron, theramin, Buddha box, Vibrachime, and various pianos), left of center guitarist David Cousar, and a slew of horn instrumentalists to create her most richly textured album to date.

Stranger Me is swampy, country, and bluesy. While LaVere still demonstrates her powerful skills on the stand-up bass, what she and Silvey have created is a musical showcase. LaVere has a voice that spits venom as effortlessly as it conveys vulnerability. “Damn Love Song,” which opens the album, showcases her richer, more sonic sound. The song has a sort of psychedelic quality to it, like Jefferson Airplane. The biting lyrics are from a woman whose boyfriend wanted her to write him a love song, which she finally does after they break up. In the smokey “Red Banks,” she happily watches the river swallow up her ex, who had threatened to throw her in earlier. She slyly protects herself by saying, “No, I didn’t push him in/Lord, he’d a killed me if I did.” Even her straight ahead pop songs, such as “You Can’t Keep Me,” have a certain darkness to them. It is a song Jenny Lewis would be proud to call her own. It’s bouncy, tough, and includes a majestic trumpet.

LaVere showcases all her talents on Stranger Me. She plays a ’60s chanteuse on “Tricky Heart,” country girl on the Bobby Charles cover, “Let Yourself Go (Come On),” and jazz mama on “A Great Divide” (which includes a nice sax solo by Clint Maedgen). She even manages to convey the erotic mysticism of the original on her cover of Captain Beefheart’s “Candle Mambo” (with the aid of Steff’s Casio SK-1).

It would be easy to throw LaVere into the group of throwback artists such as Amy Winehouse and Adele. LaVere does not have their powerful vocals (although she comes damn close), but she more adventurous musically. She has the southern drawl of Melissa Swingle of Trailer Bride and the Moaners, and the beauty of Neko Case. Her songs have a freshness that come courtesy of Silvey’s indie pop background. This is good, meaty stuff that only becomes more satisfying with each listen.

Amy LaVere plays Smith’s Olde Bar on March 2 with Rich Robinson.

Eric Taylor
Live at the Red Shack
Blue Ruby Music

By Al Kaufman

Eric Taylor is like that cool uncle you had. You know, the one who lived out in the woods in a cabin he built by himself. He talked a little saltier than your mom approved of, he didn’t care if you flipped through the nudie magazines he didn’t bother to try to hide, he’d tell you stories about improper things your mom did as a child, and, most importantly, he taught you a few chords on the guitar.

Although Taylor didn’t put out his first album until 1981, he’s been writing songs since long before. In 1970, he left Atlanta to try to make it in California. He got as far as Houston, where he ran into some songwriters with names like Guy Clark and Townes Van Zandt. He worshipped them and they, in turn, thought he was a dumb kid. But Taylor kept working at it and became a gifted songwriter and storyteller in the same vein as his mentors. Ex-wife Nanci Griffith covered his “Dollar Matinee” on her debut . Lyle Lovett, a student of Taylor’s, covered his “Memphis Midnight, Memphis Morning” on his covers CD, Step Inside this House. Both Lovett and Griffith show up on Live at Red Shack to sing their respective songs (and some others) with Taylor on this, his live retrospective. Their harmonies are full of love, warmth and gratitude.

What Taylor has done on Red Shack is assemble friends (Lovett, Griffith, Denice Franke, Italian guitar virtuoso Marco Python Fecchio, and current wife Susan Lindfors Taylor) together with a handpicked audience of 20 or so guests (for whom he also bought drinks) to play some of his favorite songs that he wrote.

And while these songs are about dollar matinees and the death of JFK (beautifully told through the eyes of “Visitors from Indiana”), this doesn’t feel like some ancient guy rehashing the good old days, but rather a gifted storyteller spinning mesmerizing yarns. Taylor’s rambling intro into “Dean Moriarty” talks of the year 1957 (“It was a good year for cars. A bad year for haircuts, but a good year for cars.”) and includes school segregation, Jack Kerouac, and trying to get girls to take a ride in his car.

Taylor may sing of the past, of bar rooms and hay fields and even Johnny Cash, but his characters want the same things we do. They want love and redemption. They want some fun and happiness. They want respect and sometimes even a little vengeance. Taylor’s people are just like us, it’s just that their tales are exquisitely told.

Eric Taylor plays Eddie’s Attic Saturday, January 28 with Freddie Vanderford. 

Dare Dukes and the Blackstock Collection
Thugs and China Dolls
Starland Records

By Al Kaufman

When Savannah’s Dare Dukes released his debut, Prettiest Transmitter of All, in 2008, he established himself as a gifted songwriter who could write a catchy (but not obvious) hook. But, most importantly, he demonstrated that he has a penchant for the little guy, the guy a little left of center, the kid at school whose clothes never fit and who picked his nose, but you knew would grow up and be either a nuclear physicist or a psychopath. These are Dukes’ people.

All these great qualities appear in abundance in Dukes’ sophomore effort, Thugs and China Dolls, with one extra component. Dukes has brought a more orchestral sound into the mix here. It becomes apparent on the first track, “Old West Broad,” which opens with strums from a mandolin and glockenspiel. Violins pluck and horns blow throughout the CD, laying a rich and textured aural landscape.

It is a landscape that does not always mesh perfectly with Dukes nasally, somewhat whiny vocals. He has the type of voice that makes the listener sit on edge, just waiting for him to miss a note. But he never does. It is a voice that is perfect for the more upbeat numbers, such as the buoyant and horn-infused love song “Meet You at the Bus,” and the sunny mandolin driven “Crooked Mouth,” about hereditary traits of all things. On some of the moodier numbers, such as the title track and the Jim White produced “Simon Says,” he would benefit from a weightier vocal sound.

Yes, with lines like “Got room for Jesus, but not for you,” he pokes fun at the mainstream, but Dukes still predominantly displays his love of the outsider. That’s where his heart is. “Jim Egger’s Parrot” tells the true story of a convict who carried a bird with him to calm him from violent episodes. Dukes crawls into the man’s mind when he delivers the words that Jim sings to his bird, Sadie, “But now I know right from wrong. Your voice is good and strong.” The jangly, ragged melody chugs along with a strong trombone backing, offering up a feel of the carnival-like atmosphere inside Eggers’ head.

Dukes takes little moments of life and examines them. He finds them human. He finds them beautiful and fascinating, as are many of the songs on this CD.

Dare Dukes plays the Highland Inn Ballroom on Saturday, January 21, with Georgia Fireflies and Book Club, and Grocery on Home on Saturday, February 4.

The Romans
Tomorrow Coming Soon EP

By Stephanie Roman

I discovered The Romans (no relation) while they were playing live in Castleberry Hill for a friend’s art fundraiser. While I enjoyed viewing the art inside the gallery, the music outside was even more compelling. The moody vocals and warm melodies mixed perfectly with the setting sun and casual stroll of passing art enthusiasts.

The Romans’ latest EP — Tomorrow Coming Soon — begins in a similar way with the first track, “I Was Born.” A lovely light touch on percussion and an uplifting guitar melody envelops the vocals. “Tomorrow Coming Soon” is a slower ballad, serene and delicate with lyrics that reveal melancholy and release: “Can’t breathe now, slowly drown. Capsize my thoughts screaming loud, wring me out.”

The final track, “Better Off Dead,” bursts forth with a catchy, post-punk vibe. Some unique composition is found when the music drops out at the end of the chorus, providing punctuation. The Romans showcase their range in both tempo and emotion with these three songs, and should have much more to offer for a full-length album. The EP will be officially released on February 1, 2012, but tracks may be previewed on the band’s Facebook page.

Friends, hipsters, lend The Romans your ear.

Gary Clark Jr.
The Bright Lights EP
Warner Brothers

By Al Kaufman

In Austin, Texas, blues guitarist Stevie Ray Vaughan is God. His likeness overlooks the heraled Barton Creek, defending it against the evils of cheap pop music. Gary Clark Jr, who grew up in Austin, often hears his name bandied about in the same sentence as the late great Stevie Ray, and two of the people doing the talking are Stevies’ big brother, Jimmie Vaughan, and a little guy who goes by the name Eric Clapton. That’s how good Gary Clark Jr. is.

Clark has a full-length CD coming out in the spring. For now we must make do with this four-song EP. The first two cuts, “Bright Lights” and “Don’t Owe You a Thang,” are studio cuts; “Bright Lights” with a creepy carnival feel and “Thang” a Southern blues romp. The second half, “Things Are Changin’” and “When My Train Pulls In,” are live, solo acoustic cuts. Clark displays his finger-picking prowess on the former and his ability to all out jam on the latter. He has solos that are equal part Jimi Hendrix and folk-rock guitarist god Richard Thompson. It’s an overall amazing display. The one flaw that the live numbers bring out is Clark’s voice, which is simply not meaty enough to keep pace with his guitar. It’s a nice enough voice, downright sweet and sensitive on “Things Are Changin’,” but a deeper growl would be downright perfect. He comes close on “Bright Lights,” but ends up feeling like a wine that has been aged too quickly.  Yet for a 27-year-old, a baby by blues standards, Clark has plenty of time to form that grizzly, guttural sound, or at least a richer timber. In the meantime, his guitar does plenty enough talking to satisfy.

Black Keys
El Camino
Nonesuch

By Al Kaufman

It surprises nobody anymore that a couple of white boys from Akron, Ohio (Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney, to be precise) can pack their music with so much blues and  soul, but the fact that with El Camino, their seventh album, they continue to get better and better at it is a feat that deserves great praise.

El Camino opens with the first single, “Lonely Boy.” Like the car for which the album is named, the song is big and bad-assed. It throttles down the road spewing out exhaust for anyone who wishes to breathe it in. Auerbach tears out some T-Rex-like guitar riffs while Carney burns through sticks on his snare. Nothing else on the CD achieves the sheer firepower of this no holds barred opening number, but more than enough come close.

There are heavy guitars a-plenty on here, but they show a more soulful side on “Dead and Gone,” and even lightly tread into southern rock territory on “Gold on the Ceiling.” “Little Black Submarine” shows a little bit of everything. It begins like a quiet Led Zeppelin ballad before it abruptly switches into another guitar heavy assault. And when Auerbach repeatedly screams “A broken heart is blind,” the words transcend traditional rock cliche and feel more like a religious experience. Welcome to the world of the Black Keys. It’s pedal to the metal blues-rock, but with a soulful spirituality. These guys aren’t just boys with bravado; they’ve got depth.

El Camino was produced by Danger Mouse, who collaborated with them on “Tighten Up,” the breakout single from their last album, Brothers. The formula worked so well that they decided to try it for a full length. It was a smart idea. While some cuts, such as “Stop Stop,” sound like they could be Gnarls Barkley songs (Danger Mouse’s project with Cee-Lo Greene), everything on here sizzles and pops. It’s 40 minutes of a V-8 engine hauling down a country road. And when you’re done, you’ll just want to catch your breath, wipe off the dust, and ride all over again.

Smashing Pumpkins
Gish and Siamese Dream Deluxe Boxed Sets
Virgin Records

By Ellen Eldridge

Amazing as it may sound, I had never actually heard Gish even though Siamese Dream punctuated my teen years. I never considered myself a huge fan of Smashing Pumpkins, but when I saw them live I was utterly blown away by both their technical skill and entertaining quality. Yet, I still never went back and bought or heard Gish. The fact that albums don’t fare as well in these Internet streaming and torrent ripping times means that many of the bands that have been around for decades reissue and remaster early career-defining albums. And so it is with the deluxe edition boxed sets for both Gish and Siamese Dream.

The theme of falling in love all over again reverberates in recent releases by artists like Tori Amos, The Cure, and R.E.M. The remastered albums by Smashing Pumpkins are available singularly, digitally, and on vinyl as well as in deluxe boxed sets.  Those who have never heard either album would do well to get the deluxe box sets because opening it will transport any music fan to that special birthday or holiday when the anticipation of opening a gift overflows with excitement for its contents.  The postcard-thick pictures of the band give the fan the tangible joy of holding on to a piece of the history. Lyric books and colorful packaging separates the remaster disc from a disc of demos and remixes. A DVD of a live show at The Metro comes with the boxed sets as well (a Gish show from 1990 and a Siamese Dream show from 1993).

The tone of squealing guitars writhing against the pounding drums brings back memories as either of the remastered discs will do for any longtime fan. The inclusion of an acoustic version of “Spaceboy” and “Disarm,” and the “Broadway Rehearsal Demo” for “Today” with its accented guitar solo makes the Siamese Dream deluxe set extraordinary, while disc two of the Gish Deluxe Set shows off the demos and experimentation Corgan calls the band’s, “first foray into the deep waters of rock and roll.”  Fans will hear the early solos standing up for every note to cry out clearly with angst and feeling. A Depeche Mode cover of “Never Let Me Down Again” plays eloquently on disc two of the Siamese Dream Deluxe Edition, which shows the moodier side of Smashing Pumpkins.

The line ,“We are the fossils, the relics of our time” from “Quiet” on Siamese Dream resonates loudly with these sets. This is a great idea for a year-end holiday gift for addition to any collector’s collection.