Singer-songwriter with The Go-Boys.

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Originally featured in the online edition of the Irish Post.

Clad in a chic leather jacket and dark-rimmed glasses and swinging her hips down stage right to bassist and collaborator Paul Bryan’s down stage left, Aimee Mann betrays her 52 years. Youthful and sprightly, she appears as a cross between the ethereal, angelic Emmylou Harris and the geeky charm of Elvis Costello; like the former, she posses a strong, commanding voice; like the latter, her work, unfortunately, ranges from the remarkable to the forgettable.

In what is a fully seated show, Mann has her loyal and devoted fan base- who have, no doubt, journeyed with Mann through her eight albums of output, including 2012’s patchy release,  Charmer- in the palm of her hand from opener ‘Disappeared’. In what is very much a show of two halves, Mann’s set unequal. The first half draws primarily from Charmer and 1995’s I’m With Stupid, including the latter’s ‘You Could Make A Killing’, which Mann has previously claimed was written about her one- time infatuation with Noel Gallagher.

While it’s clearly evident that Mann knows her way with  the fundamentals of Power Pop; that is, 4/4, mid- tempo, major key, blues- pop that owes much to the classic I-IV-V major progression, it all feels slightly samey: the song arrangements are too similar to each other, and Mann’s unremarkable tunes bleed into one another. There is also a distinct lack of surprise and both Mann and her band look very much on auto pilot.

True, Mann is a crafty wordsmith, so it’s unfortunate that her literate lyrics, including much of her narrative- driven tunes from her concept album about a journey man boxer, The Forgotten Arm, are drowned out in the mix by two keyboard players, particularlyCharmer’s title track, which is laden in Moog synthesizer sounds. Indeed, the selections from Charmer are full of the kind of sneering, self- deprecating cynicism that defined the best songs of Soft Rock and New Wave, but which is distinctly lacking in pop songs today. That said, however, there are sloppy, hackneyed metaphors and clichés abound, such as ‘Labrador’ and the album’s title track. Clearly, quality control is an issue, and one gets the feeling that a writer of Mann’s calibre and experience should know better.

All is not lost, however. When Mann’s backing band leave the stage, Mann performs selections from her soundtrack to Magnolia, Paul Thomas Anderson’s 2000 masterpiece, and the soundtrack’s companion album, 2000’s Bachelor No. 2. During the descending G minor / G seventh minor introduction to ‘Save Me’- Mann’s Oscar-nominated song and, arguably, her best-known song- Mann indulges her audience in a spot of light- hearted jibes aimed at Phil Collins, who beat her to the Oscar. Rivaled only by Wilco’s Jeff Tweedy, Mann makes an excellent raconteur. A craft in itself, Mann’s on- stage banter between songs diffuses the intensity of her tunes, allowing her to present and perform her songs in a way that is inclusive and, above all, entertaining.

Not only is it refreshing at this point of the set that Mann’s lyrics can finally come through in the mix, but the stripped down and sonically arresting arrangements of the Magnolia and material open up an infinitely more interesting dimension to Mann’s material. Indeed, ‘Wise Up’, a seminal, Solo- piano song, which was an integral soundtrack to a defining sequence in P.T. Anderson’s sprawling movie, has Mann’s Dublin audience spellbound and in awe. Finally, the gravitas of Mann’s mature and oaky voice can take centre stage.

After what can only be the most resounding round of applause of the night, Mann’s band once again grace the stage for Mann’s cover version of Harry Nilsson’s ‘One’, which features in the opening credits of Magnolia. As the lush harmonies, tremolo- heavy guitar, swelling organ and crashing symbols all work together to build during the song’s chorus, one can’t help but feel that this is the band at their most interesting, exciting, suspenseful and less predictable. It is this kind of sweeping, sonically diverse material that is lacking in Mann’s catalogue.

Gamely taking requests from audience members, Mann’s audience of die- hards call out songs so obscure that Mann no longer knows how to play them. Eventually, Mann settles on ‘Invisible Ink’ from 2002’s Lost in Space. Keeping feel- good vibe of the night alive, she recalls her trip earlier in the day to the statue of Phil Lynott outside Bruxelles on Dublin’s Harry Street before launching into a cover of Thin Lizzy’s ‘Honesty is No Excuse’ with support act Ted Leo playing Eric Bell’s audacious lead guitar parts. Earlier in the night, Leo had provided backing vocals on Charmer’s ‘Living a Lie’, which, on record, features backing vocals by The Shins’ James Mercer.

Closing on a dizzying high with Bachelor No. 2 highlight ‘Deathly’, complete with one of the best opening lines ever written in song (Now that I’ve met you / Would you object to / Never Seeing each other again),  Mann makes up for the lyrical shortcomings of recent material.

Fans may not have long to wait until Mann’s work graces the Grand Canal Theatre again: a stage musical, adapted from her 2005 album The Forgotten Arm and written in collaboration with heavily in- demand Hollywood screenwriter Aaron Sorkin (The Social Network), might be with us soon. And while Charmer may not be enough to win Mann new admirers, the savvy Virginian certainly has the songs and stagecraft to remind those who take her granted of her mercurial talent.

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Born again: John Mayer’s fifth studio album, ‘Born and Raised’, is a return to form.

Having almost successfully recovered from his disastrous and downright bizarre February 2010 Playboy interview, removing himself from Hollywood’s A- list party circuit and selling his bi- coastal homes L.A. and New York in favour of a self- imposed, frugal lifestyle in Bozeman, Montana, John Mayer has spent the ensuing time eating humble pie; nowhere is this more evident than on his fifth record, Born and Raised, his most focused, mature, honest and fully realised album to date.

On opener ‘Queen of California’, Mayer sets out his stall; this is an album in the vein of the big, era- defining folk albums of the 70’s, such as Neil Young’s Harvest, James Taylor’sSweet Baby James and the debut solo records of Stephen Stills and Paul Simon. Mayer’s subtle finger- picking and references to Neil Young (Looking for the sun that Neil Young sung/ After the gold rush of 1971), Blood on the Tracks– era Bob Dylan (If you see her, say hello) and Joni Mitchell (Joni wrote Blue in her house by the sea/ I got to believe there’s another color waiting on me) all convey a move towards the confessional, folk song- writing that defined Mayer’s career with 2003 hit ‘Daughters’ but was subsequently sidelined in favour of the audacious blues chops he displayed on 2005’s live album, Try!, and the more restrained, soulful blues playing of 2006’s Continuum– arguably his best record- which earned him a place on Rolling Stone’s New Guitar Gods, with the nickname “Slowhand Jr.”- a favourable nod to that other blues guitarist who crossed over to modern, mainstream audiences.

Throughout Born and Raised, Mayer shows an astute understanding of styles and forms. Like ‘Queen of California’, ‘Something Like Olivia’ uses that most humble and honest of all song forms; 12- bar blues. ‘Something Like Olivia’ finds Mayer attempting to resolve his devil- may- care, man- about- town- urges of old, with his newly found moral order and conduct. Of course, this turns out to be a theme at the heart of the record; that one person’s redemption can only be achieved by progressing past life’s unfortunate choices and by chalking those mistakes down to life experience. Mayer illustrates this best in ‘The Age of Worry’, a simple, AB- form song, which is laden with strong, Dylan-esque rhetoric (Know your fight is not within/ Yours is with your timing/ Dream your dreams but don’t pretend/ Make friends with what you are).

Flagship single ‘Shadow Days’, the style and sound of which is clearly influenced by George Harrison and Jeff Lynne, is certainly the most colourfully arranged and produced songs on the first side. It is, however, the album’s title track, with harmonies courtesy of Graham Nash and David Crosby, which is one of the strongest songs here and might just be one of the best songs that Mayer has yet written. The gorgeous harmonies, Mayer’s soulful vocal inflections and the acceptance and honesty of his lyrics all melt fluidly and forcefully to conclude the first side.

The second side finds Mayer embracing slow- tempo numbers that, again, tip the hat to his many writing influences. Despite it’s- frankly- awful title, ‘Love is a Verb’ is exactly the kind of song that Mayer needs; a slow burning, breezy, ‘Wonderful Tonight’- mode Clapton song. This is followed by ‘Walt Grace’s Submarine Test, January 1967’, a song, which in its rhymes, its unusual, intriguing, opening saxophone arrangement and narrative- driven lyrics of hope and aspiration owes much to Paul Simon. Darkness reigns over the brooding ‘Whiskey, Whiskey, Whiskey’, the chorus of which recalls Jeff Buckley’s ‘Lover, You Should Have Come Over’.

After showing restraint and subtlety in his playing throughout the record, Mayer finally lets himself off the leash on ‘A Face to Call Home’ with some of the most operatic playing on the record that, temporarily, shifts away from the Americana sound that dominatesBorn and Raised, for a delay- laden, stadium- rock outro, reminiscent U2’s The Edge.

The recurring theme of identity and the inevitable dichotomies- born and raised, folk and blues, fame and anonymity, the public self and the private self- that dominate Born and Raised culminate in ‘Born and Raised (Reprise)’, an alternate version of the title track, which, here, is treated as West Coast folk ditty that is as enjoyable to hear as it must have been to record.

Despite going “Americana” and producing his strongest set yet, Mayer might be too divisive a figure in contemporary music to appreciated by fans of Neil Young and Ryan Adams; too unfashionable to persuade those music fans that he’s anything other than a Berklee College of Music- educated pretty-boy, who is molly- coddled by his major label and who is more famous for his appearances in TMZ, People magazine, US Weekly and many other celeb gossip magazines. On Born and Raised, however, Mayer does do enough to prove that there is substance in his song- writing and guitar playing. Now, more than ever, mainstream American radio and television- now more than ever- needs a major label, Billboard Top 100- topping song- writer and performer of Mayer’s talent and substance to enrich and subvert a mainstream dominated by vacuous, auto- tuned, shock and awe value, pop- tarts. The John Mayer of Born and Raised might even appreciate this dichotomy.

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Paul Buchanan

Walking on air: Blue Nile singer- songwriter Paul Buchanan is back with his debut solo album, Mid Air.

In his essay ‘The Blue Nile: Family Life’, Marcello Carlin observes that “On every Blue Nile album there is a moment where time stops, and emotion laid open and bare”. Eight years on from The Blue Nile’s previous- some say last- ever- album High, Paul Buchanan, the band’s singer- songwriter, has finally delivered the solo album that many long- time fans of The Blue Nile have anticipated. Buchanan’s Mid Air is an album of thirteen, three- minute, piano- led songs and one instrumental, all of which get to straight to the heart of Carlin’s astute observation.

Recorded by Cameron Malcolm (son of long- time Blue Nile producer/engineer Calum Malcolm), the success of Mid Air is largely down to the compression and brevity of Buchanan’s songs, which are as condensed and companionable as short lyric poems. The minimal arrangements that adorn each song eschew the sometimes too slickly produced, glossy feel of subsequent Blue Nile records. Mid Air‘s opening title track features a beautifully restrained vocal from Buchanan, underpinned by light, electronic, orchestral strings. Like Tom Waits- whose collective influence of Frank Sinatra looms large on Mid Air– Buchanan delicately croons and plays simple, elementary scales to stunning, emotionally intense effect, most evidently so on album highlight ‘Cars in the Garden’.

Initially given the working title of Minor Poets of the 19th Century (after a book that Buchanan bought in his local Oxfam) Buchanan’s literate lyrics recalls Larkin (‘Wedding Party’), Plath (‘Two Children’) and Yeats (‘My True Country’). Before recording Mid-Air, a close friend of Buchanan’s passed on; no surprise, then, that, lyrically, the tone and mood of Mid Air is elegiac. Buchanan, however, extends the mournful tone beyond bereavement; ‘Newsroom’ is a lament for the last days of print journalism (Last out the newsroom/ Please put the lights out/ There’s no- one left alive), while ‘My True Country’, featuring one of Buchanan’s most impassioned and convincing vocal performances, celebrates an imagined paradise. The portrayal of urban loneliness in the full glare of neon signs during the night- time hours- a central and defining characteristic of a Blue Nile song- is mostly absent on Mid-Air, save for ‘Half the World’ and the superb album- closer, ‘After Dark’.

In Mid-Air, Buchanan has crafted an accomplished collection of beautiful, honest songs that, like Joni Mitchell’s Blue and Tom Waits’Closing Time, rely heavily on the strength of their lyrics, their simple arrangements, and humble, delicate, fragile, convincing vocal performances. A Mercury Music Prize nomination must, surely, be mid- air.

Also available in State.ie

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Finishing up the European leg of his tour, Nick Lowe saunters on stage, solo, with his acoustic guitar in front of a reservedVicar Streetaudience, seated at round tables on the ground floor. No longer happy to drift on the nostalgia of his 70’s heyday, Lowe has long left behind his career as producer and mentor to the most successful exponents of British New Wave (Elvis Costello & The Attractions, Squeeze) and, for almost 25 years, has entrenched himself in American roots music.

Opening with ‘Stoplight Roses’ from his latest release, The Old Magic, Lowe’s warm, mellow voice and austere instrumentation cut an arresting presence. It’s clear that, like Richard Hawley, Lowe draws from a songwriting well that projects a romantic view of loneliness; mainly American country songwriters and performers such as George Jones, Ray Price and Patsy Cline. A stunning, styled rendition of ‘Heart’, a song by Lowe’s former band Rockpile, concludes Lowe’s two- song solo set. As Lowe starts into ‘What Lack of Love Has Done’ from 1998’s Dig My Mood his band, including support act Geraint Watkins on keys, make their way on stage, which makes for a smooth change in dynamics early in the set.

The sheer breath of Lowe’s songbook comes into full force in the middle section of the set when ‘I Read A Lot’, a sombre, slow- burning number from The Old Magic is followed immediately by ‘Cruel To Be Kind’, Lowe’s first big pop hit, which he recently performed withUS tour- mates Wilco. The chemistry of the band is most evident on the big pop numbers, namely ‘Cruel To Be Kind’ and ‘When I Write the Book’.

After the encore, Lowe and Watkins return on stage for a duet of Watkins’ ‘Only a Rose’ and a powerful performance of ‘When I Write the Book’, which, like ‘Cruel to Be Kind’, is when the band are at their most loose and playful. As if to further emphasize that he is not enslaved by the New Wave sound that he helped to define, Lowe’s acoustic, slow- tempo version of ‘(What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding’ carries just as much weight on Lowe’s acoustic guitar and finds its place among his roots- influenced songbook and the youthful exuberance of the original studio version is side- stepped in favor of a version which casts Lowe as wiser, more mature man than the angry young man who originally wrote the tune.

It is, however, Lowe’s second encore which provides the night’s highlight. Walking on stage, solo, with his acoustic once again, Lowe performs a beautiful, measured version of ‘Alison’, a song produced by Lowe which was written by his former protégée, Elvis Costello. In a sense, it encapsulates Nick Lowe’s songwriting style and model; the well- worn Englishness of Ray Davies’sEnglandset to the American songbook of folk / country / soul music. The old magic, indeed.

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Noel Gallagher has reason to swagger on stage at the Olympia Theatre. After only one week of sales, Gallagher’s debut solo album, which topped both the UK and Irish albums charts, is already outselling Beady Eye’s Different Gear, Still Speeding. Add to this the opening his first ever solo tour in his ancestral hometown of Dublin and the result of the Manchester derby and the former guitarist and chief songwriter in Oasis has no reason not to be in excellent form.

Indeed, Gallagher is in a playful mood tonight, initiating banter between audience members, despite his warning in press interviews that he was an uncomfortable and inexperienced frontman. He opens the set, confidently, with an Oasis B-side, ‘(It’s Good) To Be Free’, the title and chorus of which, alone, carry symbolic and rhetorical weight to the nature of the night’s event and is, no doubt, a gift to the red-tops who are still generating stories and interest from Oasis’s messy split two years ago. During a successive run, half a dozen or so songs in, of ‘Everybody’s On The Run’, ‘Dream On’, ‘If I Had A Gun’, ‘The Good Rebel’, ‘The Death Of You And Me’, and a massive, early Kinks-sounding untitled new track, one realizes that Gallagher has not only the tunes but also the backing band to go the distance. Mike Rowe, who played keyboards during Oasis’ Be Here Now world tour, is a crucial player in the band, skillfully negotiating the middle eight of ‘The Death Of You And Me’, which on record features a New Orleans-style marching band, but tonight is convincingly replaced with the twinkling sound of a bar-room piano.

What works the best tonight are the dynamics, a sign of the old stager that he is. After a blazing run through the first eight songs with his full band, he brings the feel of the set down a couple of gears and reduces the line-up to just himself on acoustic guitar, drummer / percussionist Jeremy Stacy and Rowe. Together, they run through a rejuvenated ‘Wonderwall’, in which Noel blends hallmarks of Ryan Adams 2004 cover version of the track with his distinctive tenor voice. This is followed by the most surprising song choice of the night; an acoustic version of Oasis’ 1994 debut single, ‘Supersonic’, which lends insight into how it might have sounded when he first wrote the song on an acoustic guitar all those years ago in his Manchester flat.

There’s no question that Gallagher is playing to a home crowd of dedicated Oasis fans, some of whom may have attended and may have distinct memories of Oasis’s December 4th & 5th nights in The Point Depot in 1997 when Noel took over lead vocal duties from a missing-in-action Liam. Tonight, however, the songs which elicit the loudest cheers and sing-alongs of the night aside from ‘Wonderwall’ and ‘Don’t Look Back In Anger’, which appeal to casual fans and die-hard fans alike, are those B-sides that are held in such high regard with Oasis devotees such as ‘Half The World Away’ and ‘Talk Tonight’.

The night ends, somewhat predictably, with a definitive, three song encore of some of Oasis’ most successful stadium rock anthems. An acoustic-led ‘Don’t Look Back In Anger’, an excellent band performance of ‘The Importance Of Being Idle’ and ‘Little By Little’, which, when played tonight, feels close in sentiment and style to some of the tracks on Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds and satisfy Oasis fans even if ending on those songs threaten to eclipse his current solo songs. However, it’s a mark of the wealth of material that Gallagher can draw from over the past 18 years that many of his band era songs, such as ‘Sunday Morning Call’, ‘Where Did It All Go Wrong’ and ‘Let’s All Make Believe’ – all of which would have gelled well with the sound and feel of his current solo material – are sadly omitted from the night’s set. But with Gallagher’s falsetto hitting all the notes, a versatile and ambitious backing band and a set list of choice cuts that successfully tie together a broad and prolific songwriting career, it’s not a bad way to open his live account at all.

Originally published by State.ie

©  Philip Cummins. All rights reserved.

Setlist for Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds – Live at The Olympia Theatre, Dublin, October 23rd, 2011

  1. (It’s Good) To Be Free
    (Oasis cover)
  2. Mucky Fingers
    (Oasis cover)
  3. Everybody on the Run
  4. Dream On
  5. If I Had a Gun…
  6. The Good Rebel
  7. The Death of You and Me
  8. Freaky Teeth
  9. Wonderwall
    (Oasis cover)
  10. Supersonic
    (Oasis cover)
  11. (I Wanna Live in a Dream in My) Record Machine
  12. AKA… What a Life!
  13. Talk Tonight
    (Oasis cover)
  14. Soldier Boys and Jesus Freaks
  15. AKA…Broken Arrow
  16. Half The World Away
    (Oasis cover)
  17. (Stranded On) The Wrong Beach

Encore:

  1. Don’t Look Back In Anger
    (Oasis cover)
  2. The Importance of Being Idle
    (Oasis cover)
  3. Little By Little
    (Oasis cover)

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Billed in all but name as a rock dinosaur double-header, Bob Dylan and Mark Knopfler’s opening show of their joint European tour is no doubt one for blues fans with deep pockets. Blues music- American roots music, in general- flows deep for both Dylan and Knopfler, the latter exploring American roots music more ardently since he left Dire Straits in 1995. Indeed, Knopfler produced and collaborated with Dylan on the latter’s 1979 and 1983 records, Slow Train Coming and Infidels, respectively, at a time when Dylan’s career had hit its nadir and Knopfler was about to break the big time with Dire Straits.

Ahead of the night’s main attraction and performing separately, Knopfler takes to the stage with a band not too dissimilar in sound and feel as Dylan’s. Currently taking time out from recording his next record, Knopfler draws heavily from the solo career he first pursued with 1996’s Golden Heart in a live set that gels well with the sound, songs and feel of Bob Dylan’s records and live shows of the last 10 years. Although those expecting ‘Walk of Life’ or ‘Sultans of Swing’ might have been disappointed by the distinct lack of hits, Knopfler’s folk-leaning roots music shuffles along, opening with ‘What Aye Man’ from 2002’s The Ragpacker’s Dream. Debuted from, presumably, the current sessions for his next record, ‘Corned Beef City’ and ‘Privateering’ both feel fully realised and suggest that his preoccupation with folk / blues / Americana is a long way from being over.

Sauntering onstage to the theatrical and now routine stage announcement that condenses Dylan’s 50-year music career into a matter of sentences, Dylan and his band of session players kick off the night with an excellent rendition of ‘Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat’. The dramatic opening is followed swiftly by a restless, shuffling and countrified ‘Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right’, which shows Dylan’s voice to be more full, warm and defined than shows of recent years.

Dylan then moves away from the organ, which he has been stood at like Jerry Lee Lewis, and takes centre stage for ‘Things Have Changed’, the song which landed him an Oscar almost ten years ago, to a warm applause. The phrasing, as has been the case with Dylan’s performances for some time, is rapid fire. At times, his delivery is awkward and betrays the studio recordings to the point where it may take time to figure out which song it is he is performing. ‘Tangled Up In Blue’ falls victim to Dylan’s re-phrasing, though, tonight, the chorus retains the melodic punch of the studio recording yet has the Chess Records feel that Dylan has sought on almost all of his records since 1997’s career changing Time Out of Mind.

The junk yard-blues of ‘Beyond Here Lies Nothin’’ is reminiscent of ‘Swordfishtrombones’-era Tom Waits and Dylan gives the set a lift in the right place, only for it to dip again with a pedestrian performance of ‘Spirit On The Water’ from 2006’s Modern Times. However, Dylan and his cowboy band soon gain momentum again with ‘Desolation Row’, ‘Highway 61 Revisited’, ‘Thunder On The Mountain’ and ‘Ballad Of A Thin Man’ forming a groove in the set that finds Dylan and his band peaking just before the night’s encore.

With Mark Knopfler on the bill, there’s an expectation that he might join Dylan for an encore of Infidels lead single ‘Jokerman’ or perhaps ‘Blind Willie McTell’, a lost Dylan outtake from theInfidels sessions, which Knopfler co- wrote with Dylan. Disappointingly, it doesn’t happen, though Dylan and his merry men take to the stage for an encore of ‘Like A Rolling Stone’ and ‘All Along The Watchtower’, the former which raises the roof off the house, the latter trailing off into mid bursts of blues playing from Dylan’s band.

Dylan’s refusal to engage with his audience means that he doesn’t attract the same adulation, live, which Leonard Cohen, for example, has courted on stage during his touring of recent years. The distance that he keeps from his audience is so that one could sympathise with the steady stream of fans leaving the venue before the night’s end (no doubt insulted by Dylan’s perceived contempt for his audience and frustrated at how foreign the sound and arrangements of some of the songs sound in comparison to studio recordings). What they don’t realise, however, is that though Dylan has appeared to us in many guises, he is still the same uncompromising rebel he always was. Dylan has managed to integrate his vast catalogue of songs to the point where they are all, consistently, in dialogue with one another. Although Dylan’s next move, in terms of recording or completing his long-overdue second installmentChronicles is vague, he will surely continue to play live in the same style and feel as he has for, at least, the last 10–15 years. His success at achieving his singular vision for his songs that he feels he needs to keep the material fresh, coupled with the appetite that he still has to play live, suggests that his so-called Never Ending Tour won’t be winding down anytime soon.

Originally published by State.ie

Setlist for Bob Dylan – Live at The O2, Dublin, October 6th, 2011

  1. Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat
  2. Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right
  3. Things Have Changed
  4. Tangled Up In Blue
  5. Beyond Here Lies Nothin’
  6. Spirit On The Water
  7. The Levee’s Gonna Break
  8. Desolation Row
  9. Highway 61 Revisited
  10. Forgetful Heart
  11. Thunder On The Mountain
  12. Ballad Of A Thin Man
    Encore:
  1. Like A Rolling Stone
  2. All Along The Watchtower
Setlist for Mark Knopfler – Live at The O2, Dublin, October 6th, 2011
  1. Why Aye Man
  2. Cleaning My Gun
  3. Corned Beef City (New Song)
  4. Sailing to Philadelphia
  5. Hill Farmer’s Blues
  6. Privateering (New Song)
  7. Song for Sonny Liston
  8. Done With Bonaparte
  9. Marbletown
  10. Speedway at Nazareth

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Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks – Mirror Traffic

(Domino)

No doubt refreshed and inspired from Pavement’s 2010 reunion, Stephen Malkmus’s fifth solo LP finds the former Pavement frontman more cohesive and tune- based than 2008’s overblown and indulgent Real Emotional Thrash. Produced by Beck (that other poster boy for US indie- rock slackers), Malkmus’ 15-track, solo record – made up largely of accessible, three-minute pop songs – is a welcome return to the sound that made his music so endearing in the first place. Flagship single ‘Tigers’, with its opening line of ‘I caught you streaking in your Birkenstocks’ is more Pavement than Pavement themselves, while the slide guitars on the chorus are equally reminiscent of both Silver Jews and, indeed, Beck’s more roots-based material. The choice of an experienced songwriter like Beck as the producer has certainly paid off; throughout, Malkmus shows his range as a songwriter. ‘Senator’ is a reminder of Malkmus’ lyrical skills as a ribald social critic of Middle America, while ‘Asking Price’ and ‘Fall Away’ are amongst the most tender and cool songs that Malkmus has ever written.

Beck’s presence throughout the record is there, both musically and in spirit. The jaded folk/country of ‘No Is (As I Be Are)’ and ‘Long Hard Book’ could have easily been taken from the producer’s Mutations while the instrumental ‘Jumblegloss’ seems like a musical exercise between both artists. Although it might be three tracks too long and the second half lacks the punch of the first, Mirror Traffic will no doubt appeal to those currently caught up in a nineties nostalgia trip and is certainly Malkmus’ most enjoyable and infectious set of songs as a solo artist.

Originally published by State.ie

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(Conchord)

In a telling lyric on his eleventh solo studio record, Paul Simon imagines God cruising down a highway in the Midwest of America, criticising American culture: “check out the radio, pop music station / That don’t sound like my music to me.” In one of many lyrics in which Simon uses a mythic figure to reflect his personal conflicts with America, it neatly sums up the tone of So Beautiful Or So What. Repeatedly throughout, Simon is reaching back into his musical past as a way of reacting to the present. Simon even delves back to the ‘40’s, sampling a sermon given by Reverend J.M. Gates on ‘Getting Ready for Christmas Day’. The jaunty opening track recalls Simon classics such as ‘Mother and Child Reunion’ and ‘Kodachrome’ and touches on everything from life in Blue Collar America to Iraq in just over four minutes. Re- uniting with Phil Ramone, who produced all of Simon’s solo records from 1972’s Paul Simon to 1980’s One Trick Pony, the feel of So Beautiful Or So What is similar to his early ‘70’s debut; it seems almost as if the record was recorded live, in a room.

Pushing 70 years of age, Simon clearly has mortality on his mind. Like many songwriters of his era, songs about birth, death and everything in between are sure at this point in his life. What makes Simon’s take on the subject, so refreshing is how he writes about the big questions with a humorous voice that is indelibly his own. In ‘The Afterlife’, he imposes witty, smooth, demotic tones on life after death: “Had to stand in line / just to glimpse the divine / what ‘cha think about that?”. Again, Simon reaches to the language of a bygone era and the coda of “Be Bop a Lula? Or ooh Papa Doo?” immediately recalls the iconic opening cry of “A-wop-bop-a-loo-bop-a-lop-bam-boom!” from Little Richards’ ‘Tutti Frutti’.

Unlike much of his output since Graceland, the lyrics, melodies and guitar parts are not overshadowed in the mix by the rhythm section. Simon returns to his songwriting approach of constructing the song before the rhythm; an approach which changed during sessions for 1986’s classic Graceland, whereby rhythm dominated and dictated the course of the song. Songs such as ‘Love and Hard Times’, ‘Questions for the Angels’, and instrumental ‘Amulet’- have no percussion at all, and there is no bass guitar anywhere on the record.

Lyrically, Simon is, as ever, concerned with the present state of America but is consistently using reference points from the past and in doing so write some of his most vivid and moving lyrics. His humorous and playful tone- particularly on ‘The Afterlife’ and ‘Rewrite’, a stunning song about a Vietnam vet writing a fictional happy ending for his autobiographical film script is akin to that other maestro of American Song: Randy Newman. The piano-led ‘Love and Hard Times’ is laced with the same sardonic humour of Newman’s ‘God’s Song (That’s Why I love Mankind)’. Where Simon’s “restless Lord,” says “…anyway, these people are slobs here / if we stay, it’s bound to be a mob scene”. A frank social commentator, Simon’s observations throughout the record ensure longevity.

An old hand at making records, Simon knows that the greatness of an album rests on the finishing side. ‘Amulet’, an elegant instrumental, bridges the raucous bluegrass of ‘Love is An Eternal Sacred Light’ with ‘Questions for the Angels’, easily one of his most tender and beautiful compositions. He finishes on the album’s title track, the recurring hammer, on the motif of which is reminiscent of the opening theme of Simon & Garfunkel’s ‘Mrs. Robinson’. By the end of the albums, ten tracks clocking at 38 minutes, it’s clear that Simon’s blend of bluegrass, shifting rhythms, poetic lyrics and confessional, solo acoustic centrepieces are almost a retrospective of his entire solo output. It’s also clear that he has crafted his most vital, most complete album in 25 years.

Originally published on State.ie

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Looking at Ron Sexsmith’s attire this evening – an embroidered jacket worthy of a Nashville troubadour, complemented by Chelsea boots – you’d know from what school of the song he comes. With conventional structures that allow him to tell stories and melodies as firm and as memorable as those penned by his hero Paul McCartney, his songs are grounded in the simplicity and strength of a John Prine song. Although Sexsmith hasn’t crossed over from his cult status (more covers of his songs by fellow Canadian Michael Bublé might change all that), tonight’s audience is very much cross-generational. Those who first heard many of Sexsmith’s musical forebears, such as John Prine, James Taylor, Gordon Lightfoot, in the 1970s are here, tonight, along with the younger generation who have tuned into these songwriters through artists such Sexsmith.

A shaky start involving a busted and battered Vox amp threatens tonight’s proceedings. Opening song ‘Heart’s Desire’ falls flat and seems like an unlikely way to kick off the set. When the shimmering, infectious pop of ‘Get in Line’, from this year’s Long Player Late Bloomer, follows up that the show begins in earnest. Sexsmith’s four-man band play unobtrusively, with his voice unusually high in the mix, and this is most evident on the slow burning ‘Hard Bargain’. After a thunderous ‘Believe it When I See It’, he follows with the song he opened with at his first Dublin show in Whelan’s almost 20 years ago, ‘Wastin’ Time’.

Shy and reserved in an interview, an affable Sexsmith reaches out to his audience, playing a request submitted though his website (a beautiful version of ‘Tomorrow In Her Eyes’) and relating a story about how he initially wrote ‘Gold In Them Hills’ for Bing Crosby. A magnificent, solo acoustic version of ‘Sleeping With The Angels’, the song that, in his words, “got him through the door,” is the most special point of the night.

The highpoint of the evening is a memorable encore, comprising of ‘Whatever It Takes’ (made famous by Michael Bublé), fan favorite ‘Lebanon, Tennessee’ and ‘Every Time I Follow’. Far from being an unreliable or patchy performer, you can’t help but feel Ron Sexsmith is on the brink of a career-defining festival slot. Lord knows he’s got the songs.

Originally published by State.ie

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(Bella Union)

Belfast five-piece Cashier No. 9 couldn’t be further away, musically, from Two Door Cinema Club, the current darlings of the Northern city’s music scene. Referencing everything from The Byrds to Primal Scream, their widescreen sound and tightly-crafted songs don’t aim to “nail it” in three-minute pop songs, but instead, wrap themselves up in a groove that can bring them to the five-minute mark. For this quality alone, they immediately bring to mind Creation-era Primal Scream; a devotion to classic song structure but with the dimensions and grooves that have made significant electro records timeless.

Lead single ‘Goldstar’, with its nod to Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound, is an immediate, confident and ambitious opener, which even manages to pull off a harmonica solo (from Hollies’ sessioneer Tommy Morgan, no less) that could have gone badly wrong. Although the banal title of ‘Lost at Sea’ is off-putting at first, it shares the same thunderous drums and restless rhythms of ‘Goldstar’ and is an obvious single in waiting.

The bridge between their obvious ’60s, West coast leanings and ’80s & ’90s British indie rock becomes more evident with ‘A Promise Wearing Thin’, which recalls the melodic grandeur of Echo and the Bunnymen classic ‘Ocean Rain’. Meanwhile, the groove-laden, baggy-indebted ‘The Lighthouse Will Lead You Out’ bringing to mind mid-’90s era, Charlatans. Over the ten tracks, it’s the fusion of these influences that manage to keep the music fresh and exciting. The closing track, ‘6%’, a downbeat synth- drenched song, is an intriguing way to end the journey, and could very well signal the direction they take on album number two.

At the heart of Cashier No. 9’s impressive debut is David Holmes’ lush production, which skillfully adds textures and layers without resorting to the nostalgic, retro stylings that often date a record. Throughout, the multi-dimensional arrangements often recall Mercury Rev’s Deserter’s Songs and All is Dream. However, like the albums as mentioned earlier, it’s also grounded in the tight songwriting structures and styles that defined the Laurel Canyon songwriters of the ’60s / ’70s, like Neil Young, Crosby, Stills & Nash, Jackson Browne and Gene Clark. And while they lack memorable, inspiring lyrics that make use of the broad song forms they write in, these anthemic, big sounding songs could make Cashier No. 9 a surprise hit at festivals the world over.

Originally published on State.ie