Music Spectrum

Here’s guessing on Ben Rector’s musical influences. At first blush, he’s got the laidback vibe jam of Jack Johnson. On second listen, Rector’s working on that jazz-influence that shows up in John Mayer, especially the work with the Trio.

But here’s really what I’m guessing: Ben Rector’s been listening to Bruce Hornsby. Not the well-known, “The Way It Is” Hornsby when he was working with the Range on an Americana kind of feel in that “Mandolin Rain.” What I mean is that when Ben Rector sits down in front of his piano he’s very influenced by Hornsby’s jazzy jams of his later work.

2010’s Into the Morning seems to outshine 2011’s Something Like This. The previous album jumps out with its rhythms and variety. “The Beat” opens the album with a dance feel akin to Howard Jones played through that jazz-influenced Hornsby thing. The piano pounds out a urgency on “White Dress.” John Mayer’s back in the foreground of influence for “Out of My Head,” which features some nice falsetto from Rector on the chorus. Then things move ahead in tight jazz rhythms on “When I Get There,” rocking out, shimmying and shaking with just a touch of funk guitar and some nice organ work.

Something Like This, on the other hand, holds things back more, laying in the shadow of that John Mayer laidback jazz groove. It never hits a stride like “The Beat” or “When I Get There.” The album does open with the horn-laden, New Orleans kind of feel on “Let the Good Times Roll,” as if Harry Connick, Jr., showed up to give Rector a pointer. The much of the album stays in the same vein and doesn’t show the ebbs and flows of Into the Morning. You have to wade through that vein’s flow until track nine, “Way I Am,” breaks things open with a heavier, Coldplay-gets-a-jazz-influence feel. Finally, the album closes on those New Orleans horns for “Home,” a Gospel tune which says, “Good Lord Almighty, take me home/Wanna go home, just take me home/Back to the place where I belong/There ain’t nothing wrong with all the places I been/But Lord, won’t you take me home again.” Certainly a song to end the album, although it would’ve helped Something Like This to have some of its energy earlier in the track order.

Speaking of “Home” and its prayer-like quality, Rector’s lyrics can point to something beyond us, something spiritual. Back on Into the Morning, Rector sings achingly about what it feels like “When a Heart Breaks.” I appreciate his spiritual honesty when he says, “This isn’t easy/This isn’t clear/And you don’t need Jesus until you’re here/Then confusion and doubts you had up and walk away/When a heart breaks.” When a heart breaks is when we find that we need Jesus, and that’s when we stop doubting and learn to believe and have faith in God. Counter to what you might expect, I find that my faith has been most strengthened in those moments of confusion and pain. We might expect that only in times of blessing are we confident of God’s presence, but actually it’s just the opposite—the times when we’re in such need that we realize we must cling to something outside of ourselves. Of course, Rector simply sings the line over a haltingly hopeful piano, and it heads right to the soul.

On Something Like This, Rector sings a “Song for the Suburbs,” seemingly echoing my own thoughts about growing up in the sterile environment of the suburbs. It would be so easy to let those suburbs suck the life out of you and leave you with a soulless life. Rector, though, rails against that in jazz-inflected tones and charged pop soul:

‘Cause I wanna live until I die,
Don’t let the devil bury me alive,
When my heart stops, Let me go home,
Don’t let the suburbs kill my heart and soul, My heart and soul..

Rather than letting the suburbs take the spiritual out of you, the song is a rallying cry for faith perhaps, a cry to live fully in Jesus, a cry to live out our days tasting God’s love for us and for others. We need these kind of rallying cries, and Rector’s song certainly serves up the soul for the suburbanite.

Ben Rector

While not having the same edge, there’s a way in which Ben Wilkins is mining the same territory as Crash Kings: piano-centric, 70’s anthemic rock, that contains tips of the hat to the jazz-influence on rock ‘n’ roll. Wilkins’ Back of My Head EP begins with the title track—Jamie McCullum-like smashes on that piano, jammed out vocals like Jason Mraz, and the jazz vamp styling of John Mayer. Other songs, such as “The Fall,” calm down the whole thing, more musing, more of the 70’s drawn out/sweeping strings thing, bringing forward comparisons to Rufus Wainwright, although there’s also a very Beatlesque strain here meaning that XTC’s ballads aren’t far around the corner either.

Ben Wilkins

It’s been staring at you at the counter at Starbucks—the pink cover inviting you into 50’s and 60’s kitsch for your holiday celebrations.

With a name like Pink Martini, it’s actually no surprise that the best cuts on Joy to the World are the jazz-inspired renditions of classics. While Pink Martini, self-classified as a “tiny orchestra,” peppers this holiday release with ethnically and religiously diverse songs, they come into their fore when they’re working the retro 60’s jazz club sound. “White Christmas” works in its plaintive style because of the guitar musings of Dan Faehnle. There’s the subtle plinking of piano by bandleader Thomas M. Lauderdale on “Do You Hear What I Hear?”—ringing a bit with the Far Eastern-influenced jazz of Hoagy Carmichael—as China Forbes sings the beautiful ode to peace written during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Lauderdale’s piano also sets the tone for “We Three Kings,” with the Faehnle’s electric guitar picking up that jazz tone. Even the much more orchestral foray on “Shchedryk (Ukranian Bell Carol)” (known in English as “Carol of the Bells”) works because of the percussion that keeps up an insistent beat.

However, you’ll find yourself making your own playlist and axing tracks like “Santa Baby” which just don’t seem to fit. If Pink Martini is going for a humorous take on the holidays, that doesn’t seem to fit next to tracks like “Little Drummer Boy” which sashays whiles staying very true to the original feel of the carol.

Pink Martini

Jadon Lavik’s lone original on his Christmas album, “Hallelujah, The Lord Has Come,” sounds much more in line with standard contemporary worship music. It’s a fine song with lyrical glimmers of “Joy to the World” and “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” but it doesn’t stand out from the crowd of worship music.

That’s surprising considering the fact that otherwise Lavik turns in a nice set of Christmas traditionals with his Jason Mraz-like style. A jazzy inflection to acoustic rock as on the backbeat march of “Little Drummer Boy.” “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” plaintively on piano, comes closer to a Harry Connick, Jr., take on things. “Go Tell It on the Mountain” has that Mraz vocal turns, but the guitar is also reminiscent of the folk offerings of David Wilcox.

“Silent Night” is given a Jam Rock groove. “O Come All Ye Faithful” finds that groove, too, akin to Jack Johnson, and throws in some “fa la la’s” to give a spiritual turn to “Deck the Halls.” Perhaps in a nod to the laid back Hawaiian Johnson, Lavik closes his album with “Mele Kalikimaka.”

Actually what brought Lavik to my attention was his version of “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” included on BEC Recordings’ O Come All Ye Faithful, and from Lavik’s JLM Recordings compilation, A Christmas Together. The track shines with Lavik’s original jam/vamp on the hymn, making you believe that Christmas carols were meant for acoustic guitar—not organ.

Jadon Lavik

Sara Jackson-Holman sings three songs on her A Very Merry EP, a jazzy lilt, almost R&B attitude, sounding like she’s singing out of the side of her mouth with a cool coo. That works really well for “Carol of the Bells,” but may be a little misplaced for “O Little Town of Bethlehem” and the jaunty version of “Angels We Have Heard on High.”

However, A Very Merry did send me to check out Jackson-Holman’s 2010 album, When You Dream, which is full of jazz-drenched pop. Jackson-Holman is a chanteuse strutting up to the mic with attitude, bordering on Hip Hop in the way she coos on songs like “Cellophane.” The music bounces along like KT Tunstall done on piano. Worthy of a listen for the days when you need more jazz-influence in your life.

Sara Jackson-Holman
Expunged Records

On Andrew Ripp’s previous release, Fifty Miles to Chicago, I found that the rocking songs were too far and few between tracks 1 and 10 (review). Yet, I enjoyed the soulful, jazz-influenced rock that’s very comparable to Jason Mraz.

Now with Ripp’s new album, She Remains the Same, there’s still perhaps more balladry than I might want, but the ballads have a way of rocking out on their soul-stance (“Peace Like a River”).

For the more uptempo song, there’s a bluesy feel akin to Justin Beckler on “Savior,” a song which points to how we can find Jesus in the many people around us (“I found my Jesus on a city street/He gave me freedom through a trash can beat”). “Growing Old Too Young” jams along on some rollicking piano once the track really takes off. “When the Deal Goes” is electrically-charged power riffs with a blues core. There’s the spacious, ballad-into-anthem “Rider,” a song for horizons and storm clouds.

Meanwhile, She Remains the Same shows off Ripp’s faith in a more conscious way than before. While Fifty Miles to Chicago urged you to “Get Your Smile On,” the new album points towards God’s presence in the midst of our struggles: “When you come thirsty/When the well’s dry/When your soul’s dirty/I am by your side” (“You Will Find Me”).

Andrew Ripp