Music Spectrum

Early in 2011, I wrote about AgesandAges with their Folk-influenced American Rock coming through a bluegrass milieu (review). Late in 2011, the Loom’s Teeth brings back some of that same invitation, albeit more darkly.

The Loom has been referred to as chamber-folk, probably for its instrumentation—one part banjo, one part French horn—all played with intense guitars and percussion. Teeth begins well within that chamber-folk description as “With Legs” rides over Appalachian hills into small town opera houses, setting up horns and stringed instruments, to tell a tale pulled from the very valleys surrounding the town. The mystery yields to the dark barndance second half of the song.

Yet, just as quickly, track two, “The Middle Distance,” with its front-forward percussion, horn rumblings, and scratchy guitar, leaves behind the idea that this Folk-influenced American Rock can be contained in the chamber.

“Helen,” though, brings you back to the folk chamber. Lighter on its feet, the vocal harmonies, almost jazzy horns, and picked strings buoy the listener on a hilltop surrounded by windblown grass and the fading sunlight. Through the middle of the album, the lyrics often seem to evoke feelings rather than tell stories, even as the music evokes yesteryear amid the rock canvas.

“For The Hooves That Gallop, And The Heels That March” shuffles in like soldiers returning from the Civil War, the march and walk recounted in Cold Mountain. The wordless chorus clangs with guitars and horns, bursting with memories of what they have seen. The question hangs over the whole scene: will they be welcomed home as heroes or not? “So for the hooves that gallop, and the heels that march/There will be lights burning/As there will be lights out.” The track is next to last of the album but comes first in the creations here.

The Loom
Crossbill Records

Ah, time keeps rolling on, and while I drive around and work on other things, I often have plenty of time to listen to music. While I listen and do other things, I compose reviews in my head. But when it comes to finding time to actually write the reviews and post them, well, time just slips away. Therefore, I offer these parting words for 2011, words about some tremendous releases that have been heard much in the Music Spectrum office but weren’t reviewed. These releases all happen to work within in the Folk-influenced American Rock section of the Spectrum, ranging from the country-jam-blues of the Donkeys, the mysterious art of the Cave Singers, the singer-songwriter with a band of Matt Duke, the folkified rock of the Feelies, and the ensemble piece of the Belle Brigade.

The Donkeys’ Born With Stripes
When Born With Stripes opens with “Don’t Know Who We Are,” the Donkeys channel a Wilco soulful approach to folk-inspired rock. Yet, the Donkeys don’t show a core of twang that Wilco—AltCountry to their roots—shows. Instead, the Donkeys hint at the blues even while playing with a jam-like feel. Never letting themselves go into extended vamps, nonetheless you could line them up next to My Morning Jacket’s more plaintive moments. “I Like the Way You Walk” doesn’t have a true chorus except for an instrumental break that makes my heart skip a beat. The title track is a gang vocal stomp jam. Even as the Beatles got inspired by India, so “West Coast Raga” and “East Coast Raga” play the blues through Eastern charm and instrumentation. “Ceiling Tan” could’ve been culled from Camper Van Beethoven’s psychedelic eclectic strung out visions. For these reasons, the Donkeys have been played quite often this year, especially while on long car trips.

The Donkeys
Dead Oceans

The Cave Singers’ No Witch
No Witch by the Cave Singers begins with the folky, chant-like of “Gifts and the Raft,” completed by a laidback fiddle. “Swim Club” takes things up just a notch for a bluegrass-in-the-background kind of slow romp. But by track three, “Black Leaf,” the Cave Singers bring out the dark electric guitar for a bluesy ride that sounds partly inspired by drumcircles, partly inspired by odd tribal shouts. It spins around like a Jim Morrison dream coming alive in a new form. Later “All Land Crabs and Divinity Ghosts” jumps the train like a country-tune taken through Californian valleys. Like the Donkeys, the Cave Singers don’t necessarily go on extended jams, but you get the feeling that there’s more jam here than meets the eye. Meanwhile, I also hear the earlier, folky sounds of Alberta Cross. Listen especially to the rocking forward “Clever Creatures.” I also ought to mention the great joy of the harmonica-led, soulful jamboree of “Haystacks,” which feels Stonesy as the choir of voices joins in.

The Cave Singers
Jagjaguwar

Matt Duke’s One Day Die
The band Live wrote a paean to suburban life, although with a title like “#%&!town,” I suppose it wasn’t a celebratory psalm lauding the town. Yet, I have always heard it as an ache for the suburban soul lost in the sameness, achievement culture, and plastering over of the deeper problems. That’s probably why then I hear a similarity in Matt Duke’s much toned down paean to his hometown called “M.L.T.” (Mt. Laurel Township).

While musically it comes from a singer-songwriter vein, and while having less vinegar, lyrically Duke is covering similar territory as Live—aching for the people lost in the borders of the town. Both songs cry out for the souls of people.

The rest of Duke’s One Day Die works in the Folk-influenced American Rock, as Duke’s singer-songwriter style gets filled in by the band. The album is strongest on the tracks that are completed in this way, such as the urgency of “Kangaroo Court,” the clanging “Seriously, Indulge Me,” and the upbeat, Ellis Paul-like road song “Needle and Thread.”

Matt Duke
Ryko

The Feelies’ Here Before
In 1988, I got the Feelies’ Only Life. At first listen, it seemed a cassette ready for turning up just a bit too loud while stretched out on the bed in semi-consciousness, the volume and vibe keeping you from actually sleeping, but the hypnotic folk rhythms rocking you into a very relaxed state. Then, though, I discovered that if you turned up the volume a few more degrees, Only Life made great driving music as the volume brings out an urgency in the music that at first blush feels extremely laidback.

Turn now to 2011 when the Feelies returned after a 10 year hiatus. Here Before again lulls you into the sense that it is made for zoning out (“Nobody Knows”). Yet, the fuzz guitar solos and the well-placed drum fills mean that you can also crank the album to rock you forward (“Time is Right”). “Should Be Gone” chimes with a light twang, swaying side to side down the road with its light touch. Folk-punk rules the day on “When You Know,” the vocal line drawn out over the propulsive rhythms. “Later On” channels the Church in one of their acoustic moments, as if taken from a Steve Kilbey side project.

The Feelies
Bar-None Records

The Belle Brigade The Belle Brigade
Probably one of the reasons I didn’t write about the Belle Brigade’s The Belle Brigade earlier was that I was disappointed in its disjointed feeling. After a front porch sing-along start on “Sweet Louise,” the band comes into their own on “Where Not to Look for Freedom,” a driving, Gospel-tinged, bluesy twang rock. Yet, while the rest of The Belle Brigade is fine work—recalling the Decemberists at times for its way of incorporating folk elements, it never really matches the intensity of “Where Not to Look for Freedom.”

Now, exploring “Where Not to Look for Freedom” deeper, it could certainly be a song that points to the freedom of the Gospel—the promise of being saved from our sins through Jesus. There’s talk about finding “a free feeling,” “where I am not afraid of revealing,” which could be interpreted as what it means to be able to freely admit your sins to a God who offers free forgiveness.

Yet, the song then goes on to distant itself from any interpretation I might offer as a pastor:

Well, I’ve been looking real hard for a teacher
But they better not be looking for me
‘Cause I never found one in a preacher, oh Lord
Anyone that says that they see the way I should be.

In other words, I can’t be trusted if I say that the truth of Jesus is the truth. Yet, how I can not speak about the freedom I have found in Jesus when it seems to answer the very struggle faced in this song?

Where not to look for freedom
When you’re inside your prison
And you’re the only warden
Tell me where to look for freedom

So I guess I’ll conclude by saying that I don’t intend to ever “force feed” the Gospel on others. Instead, I’m speaking about the truth that I have found in Christ, and as far as I can see, it is the only truth that really provides that freedom we’re all longing for.

The Belle Brigade
Warner Brothers Records

Like Koiné out of Milwaukee, High Street Hymns takes things out of hymnbooks and plays them in new forms, often developing folk-influenced rock versions of the traditional. This continues on the 5-track Christmas collection, One Winter’s Night. “Come Thou Long-Expected Jesus” is one of my favorite hymns, and High Street plays it out in fresh, rocking form. “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” comes with a grooving beat and a rap that works here to uplift the carol to new heights. “O Come, Emmanuel” also takes on the groove for a new vocal line coupled with a rap. Both grooved tracks teach us the way to breathe life into the traditional while teaching even more about the depth of meaning in the hymns’ words.

Speaking of taking the traditional in new forms, check out Leigh Nash’s Hymns and Sacred Songs. The Sixpence None The Richer singer brings a unique take on these tunes, akin to Jars of Clay’s Redemption Songs. It’s a way of keeping hymns alive while calling on rock and folk forms.

High Street Hymns

I’m really not interested in vampire shows or movies. Plus, I don’t have any premium cable channels. So it is very unlikely that I’ll ever watch HBO’s True Blood series. But since the fall, I have been enjoying True Blood: Music from the HBO Original Series Volume 3. The soundtrack features a wonderful set of haunting, dark tunes with pairings that really make the album worth owning. Karen Elson sings Donovan’s classic “Season of the Witch,” on which Donovan himself offers speak-sing duet vocals. Neko Case beautifully wraps herself in the Zombies’ “She’s Not There,” while Nick Cave does a rap-sing to complement Case’s tones. Then there’s the Violent Femmes’ Gordon Gano and PJ Harvey stirring up the rockabilly punk on “Hitting the Ground.”

Hauntingly spiritual, Jakob Dylan with the Jayhawks’ Gary Louris contemplate your funeral on “Gonna Be A Darkness.” Sung, as Dylan songs often are, through the haze of his father’s poetry and the remaining wisps of the Wallflowers, “Gonna Be A Darkness” asks whether people will show up to pay their respects at your death and whether they’re be a welcome for you in glory. The song might question whether there’s something beyond this world, but it also acts like a plaintively asked evangelists question: will you be welcomed into eternal life? Dylan offers no answer or hope, no respite from the fear of the grave, but the song causes us to look past our death entertainment and consider whether we ought to explore the spiritual while there’s yet time to do.

As a hopeful counter to the song, please know that in Jesus there is the hope of being welcomed into glory when we die. It’s not about how much good you’ve done in this life; it’s about the good that Jesus did in His life, death, and resurrection. There’s gonna be a darkness now, but that day through Jesus there’s gonna be a great light.

Jakob Dylan
Watertower Music

The Music Spectrum Notebook Series digs into my handwritten notes about music still getting my attention.

Glen Phillips said that the band’s goal in revisiting their songs for All You Want was to “make them sound like the memory of the song.” If you’re a fan of Toad the Wet Sprocket’s albums, a few drum fills and production elements will be missing, but overall the experience is of rediscovering the song, unlayering from the from the way the 90’s poured Technicolor on them, and reliving the core of what made the songs great in themselves.

Phillips and company have never been that far away from these songs, although Phillips admits that moving forward now “a new normal was mellow with less toxicity.” They could go back into the “powerful” garage, rerecord the songs, and claim them as their own.

The band proved this energy and wonder at their work when they played St. Louis’ Pageant back in June. Songs were sometimes pulled back from the original recording, letting the vocals be upfront (as on All You Want), but at other times, the music still had its bombastic, anthemic quality. Halfway through the set, on “Inside,” the band started to wake up the beast, the sound getting more full, encompassing, ferocious, right out through the jammed tag ending.

Yet, what makes Toad different from other bands in the Folk-influenced American Rock category is their way of delivering up an atmospheric quality, a bigger scene than the standard rock format provides. For instance, “Windmills” has that atmospheric rock with a pounding beat, a textured rock especially through Randy Guss’ drums and assistance from Jonathan Kingman’s slide guitar. (Kingham opened the night with a set of his own which was a lively romp through sounds of folk (Peter Mulvey, John Gorka), jazz-influenced guitar wielding (John Mayer), and a playful time a la Keller Williams with Bobby Brown’s “Every Little Step I Take.”) The atmospherics for Toad continued on a new song, “The Moment,” which has visions of Marty Willson-Piper soloing on its lead guitar line, rocking out even while creating soundscapes.

Perhaps that atmospheric space is why I have always attributed a spiritual dimension to Toad the Wet Sprocket’s music. When asked about this, Phillips said, “I’m non-religious but I feel like it doesn’t matter if it’s a true story or a myth. It’s powerful because it tells us what it means to be human, more compassionate, more aware.” Growing up with an ethically Jewish mother and a Protestant father interested in things Zen and Sufi, Phillips is “really interested in the story. There’s so much in it that’s mythically important so that if you skip straight to belief, [those things] don’t get talked about.”

Later during the show while the band played “Way Away,” a song about a funeral, I reflected that Phillips may describe himself as non-religious but he’s got a deep appreciation and imagination about Jesus. This stands in contrast with being religious but having little appreciation and imagination about Jesus. The search for Jesus remains in Phillips which I celebrate, because certainly I agree that there’s much importance in the story that gets skipped over when you simplistically jump to belief.

Elsewhere that evening, the band was simply having fun. “Is It for Me,” clearly the band was having fun with the song. Another new song, “Friendly Fire,” was a bluesy riff propelled by tom toms. On “Crazy Life,” they had an easy way of rocking, the sound of riding out to the ocean as friends are gathered together. “All I Want” continued that vibe, only driving a little faster. The main set built up to the closer, “Fall Down,” a jamming, garage rocker.

That blend of shaking off shackles and hunkering down over gnostic mysteries makes Toad’s music stand out among others. It’s an ability to bring forward wide open questions in a garage rock, folk-influenced American song.

Toad the Wet Sprocket