Frankie Rose - Herein Wild (Fat Possum) - courtesy blurtonline.com

The good folks at Blur have posted another of my reviews.


In this case of Frankie Rose's latest release Herein Wild. 


This magic link takes you there: http://blurtonline.com/review/frankie-rose-herein-wild/





Entertain yourselves with this:

Iggy and the Stooges - Ready to Die (Fat Possum), courtesy Paraphilia Magazine

It's nice to find a home for one's wayward pieces, writing that defies easy categorization, work that asks the reader for more than the allotted two minutes. Díre McCain and Paraphilia Magazine have afforded me such a sanctuary. I am grateful.

So, a memoir, a reverie, a record ... Iggy and the Stooges - Ready to Die...

The link below sends you to my review at Paraphilia:

http://www.paraphiliamagazine.com/periodical/iggy-and-the-stooges-ready-to-die/

REVERBERATIONS NO. 1 (TIE) - Spiritualized - Sweet Heart Sweet Light (Fat Possum Records)

In previous years Reverberations conducted a marathon, day by day, countdown of the top 25 albums from the waning year. This year we will take a bit less ambitious approach, chronicling only the top 10 releases of 2012.  In January, in addition to reviews of brand spanking new music, we will also make occasion to reflect on some of the year's other fine recordings.

For our top 10 countdown, many of these selections will have been covered previously in Reverberations, in which event we will simply link you to the earlier review. A few of these, however, will require new reviews. 

THIS IS A PREVIOUS REVIEW ... OF OUR NO. 1 ALBUM (TIE) FOR 2012.

SPIRITUALIZED - SWEET HEART SWEET LIGHT (FAT POSSUM RECORDS) 

The drone and rush of Spacemen 3 was dark, dirty fun. Like the Jesus and Mary Chain they brought a dash of demi-monde cool to the synth-pop Eighties. When they broke up, guitarist Jason Pierce initiated a new project called Spiritualized, a band who didn’t reject Spacemen’s ethos, but certainly gave it grander dimensions. 

Pierce has woven strands of Velvet Underground ‘rush and on my run’ thrust, lysergic propulsion (think 13^th Floor Elevators, and yes, even Pink Floyd), the epic pop pretensions of Phil Spector, and American gospel sounds throughout Spiritualized’s twenty-year history. The band’s apotheosis, Ladies and Gentleman We Are Floating in Space, a classic statement of Pierce’s vision was released in 1997. Subsequent releases have to varying degrees retreated from or refined that classic. Good records, all of them in my estimation, but nothing stunning 

 

After 2008’s Songs in A and E, Pierce revisited Ladies and Gentleman, mounting extravagant live productions of the album. Immersed in his own classic and moved by audience response, Pierce determined that any new release from Spiritualized had to meet that standard. With Sweet Heart Sweet Light his mission is accomplished. It embraces Ladies and Gentlemen, but deepens and matures its sensibility. 

Where some of the band’s recordings hid behind a patina of noise and attitude, Sweet Heart is transparently detailed, achieving a clarity of pop production that would flatter halcyon period Beach Boys or the Beatles circa Magical Mystery Tour. 

With Pierce undergoing chemotherapy as treatment for liver disease, most of the basic tracks for Sweet Heart were cut in his home studio with a core quartet of Pierce, guitarist/bassist Tony Foster, keyboardist Tom Edwards, and drummer Kevin Bales. Pierce then convened sessions in Iceland (for orchestration) and Los Angeles (backing vocals). 

Pierce addresses the ecstasies and depths of self-medication and pharmaceutical exploration, the glory and grime of love, outsider chic and ambiguity-haunted spiritual (soul) searching. Sweet Heart - every ragged, propulsive guitar strum, every blast of horns, swell of strings and massed choir moment, expansively and perfectly encapsulates the Jason Pierce vision. He may have modest vocal and instrumental talents, but he and his band mates perform with absolute conviction and Pierce’s painstaking, perfectionist production gives these tracks a rugged glory that’s positively pop epic.

Pierce’s shaggy dog vocals have the ragged rightness of vintage Lou Reed, and the sleepy, disheveled quality of Nikki Sudden singing the Beach Boys’ Smile. There’s a just right mix of pain, exultation, sentiment, and sarcasm in his delivery. Pierce sounds resolved, conflicted, pained and triumphant; again proving that a great rock ‘n’ roll singer doesn’t need a great voice. 

The Reed/Velvets influence is pervasive, right down to the mirroring in the title (Sweet Heart Sweet Light / White Light White Heat). And ‘Hey Jane’ not only alludes to “Sweet Jane,” but refers directly to the song in the lyric. There’s also a touch of “Search and Destroy” (Iggy and the Stooges – Raw Power) in the lyric’s “ain’t got time” insistence. It’s a massive burner of a performance – spare, convulsive, undeniable. Pierce’s resolute ambivalence is in full sway, Jane herself being both reviled and doted on. Of course ultimately this rock ‘n’ roll obsessed vixen is exactly what the conflicted singer wants, as the coda rocks out with Pierce singing “sweet heart, love of my life.” Well, who said girls were … easy?

Living fully is living with risk of pain, and in “Little Girl” Pierce opens singing “sometimes I wish that I was dead, ‘cos only the living can feel the pain.” It, like the gospel pleader “Life is a Problem,” is a narcotic soul ballad, the sort of cover some wunderkind producer would present to a soul stirrer like Arthur Alexander were he still with us (he’d record for Anti, maybe produced by Joe Henry?). But where “Hey Jane” is finally exultant and “Little Girl and “Life is a Problem” poised, “Get What You Deserve,” is a droning, insistent scorched earth of vengeance and rejection. It’s evinces Zep’s “Kashmir” and evokes George Harrison’s Indian modalities. It’s sweeping, but you feel dirty and drained when it’s done. 

Love is a beloved dog (from hell) on “Too Late.” It has a graceful melody that could take wings with a more sumptuously gifted singer, but it couldn’t ring any truer than coming from its composer. Dr. John, who also contributed to Ladies and Gentlemen, co-writes the soul burner “I Am What I Am.” Carried by a catchy bass line drafted from Marvin Gaye’s “Inner City Blues,” the song somehow combines the Doctor’s swampy voodoo, Gaye’s sultry funk, and Pierce’s own drone-rock relentlessness.

Pierce’s appeals to divinity are not the product of devotion to anything but the well of feeling which rock’s musical and literary sources provide. His songs are part plain statement, rooted in autobiography, but also allegory. Nowhere is this better expressed than in the album’s closing track “So Long You Pretty Thing” (co-written with nine year-old daughter, Poppy.) Beyond it’s titular nod to Bowie’s “Oh You Pretty Things,” it sets up an ultimate soul-wrestle between desperation and deliverance, complete with appeals to ‘the Lord’ and ‘Jesus.’ As the song stirs to a climax he seems to be serenading not only a loved one, but also himself -  

“So Long You Pretty Thing. God save your little soul. The music that you played so hard ain’t on the radio. And all your dreams of diamond rings. And all that rock and roll can bring you. Sail on. So Long.”

There’s a lot condensed into that lyric; Pierce references the gap between his vision of rock glory and what’s ‘on the radio,’ but his faith in “all that rock and roll can bring” is undaunted. A hymn to resistance more than resignation, it’s an instant classic in Pierce’s rock radio of the mind, and as it rises in intensity it achieves a revivalist fervor that warms any rock ‘n’ roll believers heart. Some records are simple collections of songs. Sweet Heart is a journey into the heart of Jason Pierce’s darkness. And out – into the pure white light of what happens when that perfect rock ‘n’ roll buzz strikes. There may be other records as good as Sweet Heart Sweet Light released in 2012, but I doubt any will be better.

Reverberating: 9.4

Spiritualized - Sweet Heart Sweet Light (Fat Possum Records)

The drone and rush of Spacemen 3 was dark, dirty fun. Like the Jesus and Mary Chain they brought a dash of demi-monde cool to the synth-pop Eighties. When they broke up, guitarist Jason Pierce initiated a new project called Spiritualized, a band who didn’t reject Spacemen’s ethos, but certainly gave it grander dimensions. 

Pierce has woven strands of Velvet Underground ‘rush and on my run’ thrust, lysergic propulsion (think 13^th Floor Elevators, and yes, even Pink Floyd), the epic pop pretensions of Phil Spector, and American gospel sounds throughout Spiritualized’s twenty-year history. The band’s apotheosis, Ladies and Gentleman We Are Floating in Space, a classic statement of Pierce’s vision was released in 1997. Subsequent releases have to varying degrees retreated from or refined that classic. Good records, all of them in my estimation, but nothing stunning 

 

After 2008’s Songs in A and E, Pierce revisited Ladies and Gentleman, mounting extravagant live productions of the album. Immersed in his own classic and moved by audience response, Pierce determined that any new release from Spiritualized had to meet that standard. With Sweet Heart Sweet Light his mission is accomplished. It embraces Ladies and Gentlemen, but deepens and matures its sensibility. 

Where some of the band’s recordings hid behind a patina of noise and attitude, Sweet Heart is transparently detailed, achieving a clarity of pop production that would flatter halcyon period Beach Boys or the Beatles circa Magical Mystery Tour. 

With Pierce undergoing chemotherapy as treatment for liver disease, most of the basic tracks for Sweet Heart were cut in his home studio with a core quartet of Pierce, guitarist/bassist Tony Foster, keyboardist Tom Edwards, and drummer Kevin Bales. Pierce then convened sessions in Iceland (for orchestration) and Los Angeles (backing vocals). 

The Countdown Continues with No. 9, Jack Oblivian

Continuing today, and culminating with REVERBERATIONS number one album of the year on December 31st (if my math is right)*, we’ll be counting down the top twenty-five records of 2011. I’m referring to this countdown as Twenty-five Faves because I have no pretenses about telling you what’s “best.” Sure, I think my taste is better than yours. But nobody died and made me Lester Bangs. And Lester could be arrogant, but I kind of think he would come down on the favorite side of the fave/best dichotomy. His criticism was nothing if not personal. 

* Okay, it will take a little longer.

I've reviewed the majority of these selections. In the event that I have I'll simply recycle the original reviews, sometimes with a little new commentary. If it's a selection I haven't reviewed previously, I will dash off a new, brief, introductory review just for perspective.

Joining:

25. Kurt Vile - Smoke Ring for my Halo (Matador)
24. Fountains of Wayne - Sky Full of Holes (Yep Roc)
23. Bass Drum of Death - GB City (Fat Possum)
22. Coathangers - Larceny and Old Lace (Suicide Squeeze)
21. Meg Baird - Seasons on Earth (Drag City)

20. White Fence - Is Growing Faith (Woodsist)

19. Dum Dum Girls - Only in Dreams (Sub Pop) 

18. Steve Cropper - Dedicated (429 Records) 

17. Thee Oh Sees - carrion crawler/the dream ep (In the Red) 

16. Sonny and the Sunsets - Hit After Hit (Fat Possum) 

15. Tom Waits - Bad as Me (Anti)

14. Laura Marling - A Creature I Don't Know (Ribbon) 

13. Pete and the Pirates - One Thousand Pictures (Stolen Recordings/U.K.)

12. Jolie Holland - A Pint of Blood (Anti)

11. Wild Flag - s/t (Merge)
10. Vaccines - What Did You Expect From the Vaccines (Columbia)

At No. 9, check out this earlier review of Rat City by Jack Oblivian (Big Legal Mess/Fat Possum): 
http://stevemahoot.blogspot.com/2011/09/jack-oblivian-rat-city-big-legal.html

The 2011 Countdown Continues with No. 23, Bass Drum of Death

Continuing today, and culminating with REVERBERATIONS number one album of the year on December 31^st (if my math is right), we’ll be counting down the top twenty-five records of 2011. I’m referring to this countdown as Twenty-five Faves because I have no pretenses about telling you what’s “best.” Sure, I think my taste is better than yours. But nobody died and made me Lester Bangs. And Lester could be arrogant, but I kind of think he would come down on the favorite side of the fave/best dichotomy. His criticism was nothing if not personal.

I've reviewed the majority of these selections. In the event that I have I'll simply recycle the original reviews, sometimes with a little new commentary. If it's a selection I haven't reviewed previously, I will dash off a new, brief, introductory review just for perspective.

 

This year, like most in recent memory, saw the release of several scraggly-ass garage-grunge-punk-pop records (hyphens, no charge) - new releases from mainstays like Ty Segall, newcomers like Hanni El Khatib, download only entries from fixtures such as Reigning Sound and King Khan (a sign, albeit an ironic one, of the times) – heck, the admittedly loosely construed genre even spew forth reissues and anthologies from the Reatards, Lost Sounds and the aforesaid Mr. Segall, a sure sign of, uh, maturity.

All of them were pretty good, but none resonated from bang one to final decay as records like Reigning Sounds’ Time Bomb High School or King Khan and BBQ Show’s debut had in years past. For me the best representatives of the idiom are those records that have an appeal that preaches beyond the converted. In 2011, one album has kept insinuating itself, despite my initial dismissal; that album is GB City the distortion-saturated opus from Oxford, Mississippi’s Bass Drum of Death on Fat Possum Records.

Jack Oblivian - Rat City (Big Legal Mess/Fat Possum Records)

 Memphis has long been the place where the rural cultures of the Deep South meet and mix. It was surely the case before Sam Phillips put the ignition in the mighty motor of Sun Records in 1952. But Sun does provide the most obvious and optimal example of Memphis’s place in American musical experience. While Phillips first recorded the likes of Howlin’ Wolf, he made his fortune discovering white performers whose influences were reflective of an emerging South where, prior to but anticipating the social convulsions of the Sixties, whites were being entertained by black performers and vice versa. Well before schools and lunch counters integrated, Southerners radio dial and record shop preferences were crossing racial lines.

What’s this got to do with Jack Oblivian? Lots, as it turns out. Oblivian (or Yarber as his ma and pa know him), is a modern day Memphis mixer, putting together stray stands from Fresno blues to Carolina beach music, from the Stooges to Springsteen and the Clash, he’s a working class musical magpie, and in top form on his new release Rat City.

With Greg (Oblivian) Cartwright and Eric (Oblivian) Freidl in the Oblivians, he became an icon of the (re)emerging garage-rock genre by blasting grease pit , r ‘n’ b infused rock ‘n’ roll at punk tempos. As a soloist (and with his nominal ‘band’ the Tennessee Tearjerkers) Oblivian has purveyed a slightly grown up version of the same thing. He’s become a better singer and musician, and it sounds like he’s running his beloved cheap Jap guitars through better amps in better studios (actually, the portability/affordability of good recording gear is probably the bigger change). But he’s still a thrift shop recycler. And his uncanny ear for sweaty hooks and grooves is sharper than ever.