Posts Tagged ‘Folk’

Shelby Flint: The Complete Valiant Singles

Friday, January 6th, 2012

Superb folk-pop singles from an under-known ‘60s vocalist

Shelby Flint had but one Top-40 single, 1961’s “Angel on My Shoulder,” but the purity of her voice, the quality of her technique and the sophistication of her melodic sensibility has been enough to sustain a music career. Perhaps even more important is that, uncharacteristically for “girl singers” of the early 1960s, she wrote much of her own material. From these early singles, recorded for the Valiant label, you can hear her combining folk, pop and especially jazz in her phrasing and tone. Her jazz leanings turned overt in a 1966 cover of Vince Guaraldi’s “Cast Your Fate to the Wind,” notching her second (and last) appearance on the Billboard chart, peaking at #61 pop, and just missing the Top 10 adult contemporary. Her voice attracted a young fan in Joni Mitchell, who may have also noticed Flint’s transition from folk to jazz.

These songs of happy-go-lucky days, romantic longing and heartache, feint towards other popular female vocalists of her era, but despite the orchestration, strings and chorus backing her, the thoughtful mood of Flint’s work is more apiece with the folk revival than the pop charts. Perhaps the best analog would be the sweet folk-pop of Mitch & Mickey’s “A Kiss at the End of the Rainbow,” but without the satire. This is all the more evident in a spare, sensitive reading of the traditional “The Riddle Song” (or as it’s better known, “I Gave My Love a Cherry”), in which Flint lingers over the notes, investing the lyrics with enough feeling that it might even win over Animal House’s John Blutarsky.

Flint sang with little or no vibrato, and remained impressively restrained even when she covered the Tom Jones showpiece “What’s New Pussycat.” She let her songs drift away in ellipses rather than belting out their climaxes as exclamation points. In addition to her eleven singles (A’s and B’s) for Valiant, this collection includes her original version of “I Will Love You,” recorded for Cadence (with the Jordanaires) in 1958, along with its B-side “Oh, I Miss Him So.” The other rarity here is Flint’s title song to Joy in the Morning (and its flip “Lonely Cinderella”), which was pulled shortly before release. All cuts are from the original mono master tapes, except 17, 18, 23 and 24 which were transferred cleanly from disc. Flint fans will also want to find Collectors’ Choice’s three-fer, but this singles collection is a superb retelling of her time on Valiant. [©2012 hyperbolium dot com]

The Monotrol Kid: What About the Finches

Thursday, December 22nd, 2011

Seductive folk-pop duets from a one-man-band

The Monotrol Kid (born Erik van den Broeck) is a Belgian folksinger who’s gigged around Europe and released a single (“Almost”), EP (Today was a Good Day), and now this 10-track album. Recorded entirely on his own in a home studio near Brussels, his sound favors that of Elliott Smith and early R.E.M, with dashes of Cat Stevens, Don McLean, Leonard Cohen and Bob Dylan; his double-tracked duets suggest Simon & Garfunkel, Blind Pilot and the Delevantes. The album hits its deepest moment halfway through with the simmering advisory “Try” and the crawling solicitation “The Horse Ride Home.” Broeck’s duet singing is seductive, in part because it doesn’t always sound like one voice doubled, and in part because it does. Singing with and to yourself adds unusual semantics to lyrics nominally directed outward at others, and gives these performances unique finishes. [©2011 hyperbolium dot com]

The Monotrol Kid’s MySpace Page

John Mieras: Painted Glass

Wednesday, December 14th, 2011

Sophisticated modern folk-pop

John Mieras is a college educated musician whose background in choral conducting, counter-tenor singing and French Horn are balanced by the informal schooling he received picking guitar with his grandfather. His voice has the high purity of Don McLean, backed on the opening “Love & Rent” by harmonies that suggest CS&N. His music could be classified as contemporary folk, but in the rich veins explored by Paul Simon, Elliot Smith and others who ventured beyond the acoustic guitar and stool. You can hear a suggestion of Simon’s Andean flavors in the bass and organ of “Yesterday (I Wish There Was a Way),” and Mieras’ subtle use of horns adds interesting texture to his original songs of longing, nostalgia and regret. Working out of Colorado, Mieras has yet to build a national profile, but this mini-LP should garner some fans coast-to-coast. [©2011 hyperbolium dot com]

John Mieras on ReverbNation

Jeff Black: Plow Through the Mystic

Monday, December 5th, 2011

Complex, soulful singer-songwriter Americana

Nashville-based singer/songwriter Jeff Black has some heavy friends, including mandolinist Sam Bush, guitarist Jerry Douglas and singer/songwriters Matraca Berg, Gretchen Peters and Kim Richey. And though they all lend a hand on his fifth solo album, it’s Black’s voice – both singing and writing – that gives the album its soul. Black also played most of the instruments, overdubbing himself on guitar, banjo, keyboards, bass and percussion, but the only hint of one-man-bandism is the music’s tight grip on the songs. Black’s voice takes on many different shades, at various times recalling the downtown soul of Willy DeVille, the gruff side of Springsteen, the melodic saloon growl of Tom Waits, the deadpan of James McMurtry, the rye twinkle of Randy Newman and even a few moments of Neil Diamond’s pop-soulfulness.

Black draws from country, folk, soul, blues, gospel and contemporary pop, offering songs that range from the contemplative banjo solo of “Virgil’s Blues” to the foot-tapping Little Feat-inflected title track. Jerry Douglas laces his twang throughout “Walking Home,” but the husk in Black’s voice is more Memphis than Nashville, and his lyric – an internal monologue anticipating a forthcoming explanation – isn’t your standard country fare. Black writes phrases and draws images that are easily known, but connects them into verses that recast the easy first understanding. Early in the album, his characters are caught in dilemmas that find them on the verge of apologizing, disaffected from their taught beliefs, and weighed down by riches.

But the album takes a more grounded and optimistic turn with “New Love Song” and the turmoil in Black’s head subsides with the acceptance of “Waiting.” Still, even as he embraces a less guarded life, his happiness seems to be that of a cynic who finds potential loss at the root of joy, one who counsels “you’re going to find out just how heavy happiness can be.” He closes the album with the confessional “Ravanna,” contemplating the physical and emotional distances one travels from childhood, and meditating on the relationship between human frailty and divine grace. The travel from inner turmoil, through confession, awareness and acceptance suggests the pages of a personal journal, but one whose journey is still a work in progress. [©2011 hyperbolium dot com]

Jeff Black’s Home Page

The Twilite Broadcasters: The Trail of Time

Sunday, November 20th, 2011

Tight pre-Bluegrass country harmonizing

This old-timey North Carolina trio (Mark Jackson on guitar, Adam Tanner on mandolin and fiddle, and Duane Anderson on stand-up bass) return with their second album of early-country inspired harmonizing. As on their first album, 2010’s Evening Shade, the singing brings to mind the Delmores and Louvins, and the song list recounts several of the brothers’ tunes alongside traditional songs and later country works. Jackson and Tanner can each sing lead, but it’s the blending of their voices that creates the brightest sparks. The solo verses of “There Stands the Glass,” for example, haven’t the searing quality of Webb Pierce’s hit, but the tight chorus harmonies provide a moving refrain. Tanner’s playing is lively on the original instrumental “North Buncombe Gallop,” Bill Monroe’s “Land of Lincoln” and Arthur Smith’s “Fiddler’s Dream,” and he adds short solos to several other tracks. It’s no surprise that the Delmore and Louvin compositions, including the former’s “Lead Me” and the latter’s “Lorene,” best fit the duo’s harmonizing. This is a homespun collection whose harmonies you could imagine the Broadcasters singing on your own back porch. [©2011 hyperbolium dot com]

The Twilite Broadcasters’ Home Page

Chip Taylor & The Grandkids: Golden Kids Rules

Sunday, November 20th, 2011

Famed songwriter sings with his granddaughters

Chip Taylor’s most widely known for his iconic rock, pop and country compositions, including “I Can’t Let Go,” “Wild Thing,” “Angel of the Morning,” “Country Girl City Man” and “Sweet Dream Woman.” His parallel recording career, including solo albums and a few charting singles in the mid-70s, never gained the renown of his writing, and spent most of the 1980s as a successful professional gambler. He crept back on to the music scene with a few albums in the ‘90s, and in 2002 he kicked off a series of collaborations with Carrie Rodriguez, which in turn led to the past decade’s recording renaissance. His latest, recorded with three granddaughters (Riley, Kate and Samantha), is the product of his long-term practice of writing songs for family events. On the occasion of his son’s marriage, Taylor wrote a trio of songs to sing with his grandkids, and the family’s response prompted this full album.

Taylor’s grizzled voice blends happily with the chirpy pre-teen tones of his granddaughters, and the songs he’s written (with co-writing from Kate on “Magical Horse”) fit their young years. The girls sing sweetly, shining on the humorous stories and confident on the more serious lyrics. The former will catch your kids’ ears for sing-along on first pass, but it’s the weightier lyrics that introduce the deeper pleasures of songs. Taylor’s songs allow his grandkids to be kids, suggesting they “learn stuff about stuff you don’t know,” take time to wander into their imaginations, and ask questions. There are messages for adults as well, reminding parents that kids have ideas and dreams that need to be heard, and that they can be empowered to care for others and for the planet.

The three songs originally recorded for Taylor’s son’s wedding close the collection, including the terrific second-line inflected soul of “The Possum Hunter,” a father’s clever and warm advisory “Happy Wedding,” and the hopeful “Now That Kristian and Anna Have Wed.” The album is charming and, particularly given Taylor’s depth as a songwriter, the quality of his assembled band, and the freshness of his granddaughters’ singing, a welcome respite from the bulk of purpose-built children’s music. The collection’s release on Smithsonian Folkways puts it in remarkable company, alongside classic albums from Pete Seeger, Ella Jenkins, Alan Mills and many others. Take a break from Barney and the Wiggles, and let Chip Taylor and his granddaughters entertain you. [©2011 hyperbolium dot com]

MP3 | Golden Kids’ Rules
Smithsonian Folkways’ Home Page

The Crags: Big Divide

Sunday, November 6th, 2011

Minimalist folk punk from Durango, Colorado

This trio from the Southwest Colorado town of Durango has a lo-fi sound that suggests new wave minimalists like Oh-Ok and Wednesday Week, as they might have sounded fronted by the rich voice of Pearl Harbour, Martha Davis or Lene Lovich. Vocalist Tracy Ford is backed by simple arrangements of guitar, bass and drums, and supplemented by short solos and simple harmonies. It’s surprisingly effective, as the basic rhythm patterns and uncluttered production keeps the focus on the expressiveness of Ford’s voice. These tracks have the finish of demos, but their lack of production polish is charming and honest, and the songs are catchy. [©2011 hyperbolium dot com]

MP3 | Big Divide
The Crags’ MySpace Page

John Amadon: Seven Stars

Thursday, October 27th, 2011

Exquisitely crafted singer-songwriter power pop

Portland singer-songwriter John Amadon is something of a studio rat, holing up to write and record original compositions until they shine with craft. It’s not the airless sound of modern recording, but the earthy, sharp-in-just-the-right-places acoustics you’d associate with Big Star’s first two records at Ardent. The guitars have a pluckiness that brings listeners into the studio – like the acoustic picking that opens Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here.” The mood harkens back to the late ‘60s and early ‘70s era of power pop; you can hear strains of Badfinger’s melancholy, Alex Chilton’s falsetto (check out the first few notes of “All Patched Up”), CS&N’s harmonies, and the whole of Elliot Smith’s folk-pop.

Amadon has explained that several of the album’s songs are rooted in a one-sided obsession. Most directly he’s written “Let’s Walk Without Talking” about the object of his unfounded desire, and “Bitter Prayers” couches a not-wholly-convincing apology in a wistful melody and vocal whose protestations might be a stalker’s elocution to his prey. The songs are inner monologues itching to be spoken, uncertain self-appraisals whose outside awareness is askew. The album’s lone instrumental is appropriately entitled “Xanax,” as its mood perches between anxiety and medicated calm.

The album plays as an intense day-dream, filled with wanderings sparked by the barest of incidents. Amadon imagines a relationship with someone he’s never actually met, investing her with details that he seems to realize are false. Even without knowing the album’s premise, the affection in these songs is too claustrophobic to read as standard love song fare, and when Amadon sings “I won’t make light of the insight, you’re beyond knowing,” it’s more of an admission than an existential observation. This is a finely produced album whose sound would stop you in your tracks at a hi-fi shop; the lyrics will subsequently transfix you with their haunted imagination. [©2011 hyperbolium dot com]

MP3 | Let’s Walk Without Talking
MP3 | All Patched Up
Stream Seven Stars on Bandcamp

Paul Simon: Songwriter

Tuesday, October 25th, 2011

Idiosyncratic collection highlighting Paul Simon’s songwriting

This two-disc, thirty-two track collection (with a generous running time of 139 minutes) highlights the legendary songwriting of Paul Simon. The composer himself selected the tracks, touching on both hits and the lesser-known compositions of which he’s most proud. The result is an idiosyncratic tour of Simon’s catalog that will remind you of his broad commercial power, but key you into the depth of his craft as a writer. The selections focus almost entirely on Simon’s post Simon & Garfunkel career, with only a solo live take of “The Sound of Silence” (the set’s only previously unreleased track), Simon’s 1991 Concert in the Park recording of “The Boxer,” and Aretha Franklin’s 1970 cover of “Bridge Over Troubled Water” reaching back to his duo work.

The bulk of the collection cherry-picks from Simon’s solo albums, stretching from 1972’s Paul Simon through this year’s So Beautiful or So What. Selections from Simon’s well-loved albums of the 1970s and his commercial renaissance sparked by Graceland will be familiar, but deep album cuts, picks from Hearts and Bones and Songs from the Capeman (including the excellent 50s-pastiche “Quality”), and his contribution to the soundtrack of The Wild Thornberrys Movie will be fresh to many listener’s ears. The breadth of Simon’s writing mirrors both his own maturation as a person and the evolution of the society in which he wrote. The reactionary outbursts of his early songs were stoked by youth and the turbulent times in which he was living; his early post-S&G years found him developing a solo personality and indulging his musical interests in reggae, doo-wop, and South American folk.

Simon’s music has been as revelatory and memorable as his words, speedily evolving from the acoustic arrangements of the folk scene to sophisticated tapestries of instruments and genres. Decades before Graceland introduced African music to the American audience, Simon augmented his palette with American gospel, Peruvian folk and Jamaican reggae. He explored sounds from South Africa, Brazil and the American South, all the while embroidering his autobiographical, observational and imaginative lyrics with ideas drawn from his musical interests. His relationships seeded numerous songs, including ones of developing love (“Hearts and Bones”), family (“Father and Daughter” and “So Beautiful Or So What”), marital turbulence (“Darling Lorraine”) and dissolution (“Tenderness”). His evolving view of society provided bookends to the American unrest with the angry “The Sound of Silence” and the haggard “American Tune.”

Over the years, Simon’s craft sharpened, his characters multiplied, his philosophical and emotional insights deepened, and his favorite lyrics became more impressionistic and poetic. But winningly, his music remained accessible as he teased apart new layers in existing forms and interwove the fresh threads if his ever-broadening musical grasp. Simon sees himself first as a songwriter, secondarily as a performer and recording artist, but as these recordings attest, his words, melodies, arrangements and estimable guitar playing are all deeply intertwined. Simon always surrounded himself with carefully picked players who add original colors to his songs with their instruments and voices. Listening to a set of his recordings, it’s easy to appreciate the songwriter, but difficult to untangle that appreciation from the carefully crafted performances.

The set’s booklet includes full lyrics, but no song notes by the author. Simon, most likely, sees the lyrics as the best possible explanation of the songs. Still, the stories behind the songs would have been an interesting extra. The absence of Simon & Garfunkel recordings leaves the listener to remember how Simon’s first blaze of glory sounded; the words are here in three early songs, but as noted, Simon’s lyrics are deeply wedded to his expression, which originally included Art Garfunkel. The set’s forward is written by painter (and apparent Paul Simon superfan) Chuck Close, and the liner notes are by Tom Moon. Full musician, production and release credits are also included. [©2011 hyperbolium dot com]

Paul Simon’s Home Page

Slaid Cleaves: Sorrow & Smoke – Live at the Horseshoe Lounge

Tuesday, September 20th, 2011

Compelling live set from a master Texas songwriter

Over the course of twenty years and more than a half-dozen albums, transplanted New Englander Slaid Cleaves has established himself in a league with peers like Bruce Robison, and following closely in the footsteps of Robert Earl Keen, Guy Clark and the rest of the Texas songwriting deans. His studio recordings have been engaging and, starting with 2000’s Broke Down, commercially noticed, but his words gain dimension when shared on stage. Cleaves’ songs are not often happy affairs, and his last studio album, Everything You Love Will Be Taken Away, wears its downcast tenor in its title. But even as he sings of romantic vulnerability and social polarization, he manages to warm the weariness and fatalism. Much like Springsteen’s socially critical anthems, Cleaves’ hummable melodies and chorus hooks often disguise darker truths within.

This two-disc live set opens with “Hard to Believe,” a gut-punch portrait of an industrial town in decline, amid a country much of whose moral compass is in free spin. Cleaves sings despondent lyrics with a voice choked with disbelief, threading personal loss among the emotional wreckage he sees all about. Even if you were busy ordering your first drink of the evening, the half-smile in Cleaves’ voice couldn’t hide the acidity of America’s widening class war: hookers on a Christmas stroll, rootless blue collar workers, senior citizens slinging hash, and young boys sent off to defend corporate riches. The applause that follows suggests an audience not quite sure how to laud the songwriter’s craft while still mulling the dire images he’s painted. The quandary is dispelled as Cleaves launches into “Horseshoe Lounge,” holding an affectionate mirror up to the bar’s patrons.

The twenty-one tracks are collected from two stripped-down performances in which Cleaves accompanied himself on guitar, with acoustic leads and harmony vocals by Michael O’Connor, and accordion, harmonica and trumpet from Oliver Steck. Cleaves sings strongly and clearly, inviting audience members to join him here and there, and leaving much to mull over on the drive home. There’s a former drinker whose problems are deeper than a whiskey glass, a town drowned beneath a man-made lake, the jagged remains of a shattered marriage, tough times with no easy exit, and deaths at work and war. There are lighter moments, including the Loudon Wainwright-styled folk-waltz “Tumbleweed Stew” a yodeling tribute to Don Wasler, and the new title, “Go for the Gold,” but it’s the tour through the darker parts of Cleaves’ catalog that pays the richest dividends. [©2011 hyperbolium dot com]

MP3 | Hard to Believe
Slaid Cleaves’ Home Page