Fall Music: New Release Roundup

Monsters Of Folk
This was my most anticipated album of the fall, and I am happy to report I have not been let down at all! The “Monsters of Folk” (in spite of their stupid name) fulfill anticipations! The "supergroup" consists of Conor Oberst (Bright Eyes), Jim James (My Morning Jacket) and M. Ward (M. Ward). Mike Mogis, who works with Oberst/Bright Eyes is the fourth, lower-right-hand-corner-of-the-album-cover, behind-the-scenes guy. I’m sure he’s the glue that holds the whole thing together but because he doesn’t sing and isn't famous in his own right I don’t care about him at all. Take that, Mogis, you weirdo. Anyway, the Big Three all contribute songs, mixing and matching their vocals and sensibilities. And it’s a great mix of sensibilities, too, without being either a meaningless mishmash or overly dominated by one lead-guy. A steady current of religion and Higher-Power-questioning runs through the album, interestingly, but the whole affair never feels overly weighty. On the contrary, everything feels like a lot of fun – catchy, eclectic, interesting. The “Traveling Wilburys” vibe is undeniable, but at the same time it never feels like a rip-off or something silly these guys just tossed off. It’s both substantial and fun, and manages to highlight the best of these three talented dudes and largely leave their individual weaknesses behind.

Will Hoge - The Wreckage
I’ve been a Will Hoge fan for a while now, but there have been some somewhat lengthy gaps in our relationship. I found him back when I worked at the University of Chicago and got addicted to obsessively rating music on the online Yahoo Radio feature (my early pre-Pandora internet music source). His sophomore album, Blackbird on a Lonely Wire was my introduction in 2003, then he seemed to disappear for awhile and I read later that he had been in a bad motorcycle accident. Yikes. Safety first. Anyway, his next record, The Man Who Killed Love, was self-released, and I liked it fine, but it was missing some of that glossy rock sheen that I so often (guiltily) like. His return to the world of major record labels came in 2007 with an album (Draw the Curtains) I never got interested in, based on both reviews and some online listening. But Hoge’s latest is a return to 2003-form, with a big, straight-ahead rock & roll sound, and just enough sheen to take the edge off and tickle my eardrums right. The absolute home run track off here is the duet "Goodnight/Goodbye," with an unknown (to me) singer Ashley Monroe, who has got a great voice. A great voice, somewhere in Dolly Parton/Patty Griffin/Tanya Tucker/Mindy Smith mold (that’s not a mold at all, what’s wrong with me). On the surface, it’s a simple, sappy duet, but a winner nonetheless, and as I have often stated, I remain something of a sucker for sap. At any rate, with a slight Tom Petty-feel, and a great voice all his own, Will Hoge’s latest is a winner, full of hooks and heart.

Kings of Convenience - Declaration Of Dependence
Sometimes as I get myself through yet another workday I need some music that doesn’t drive like rock and roll, that isn’t uptempo like bluegrass, or experimental like indie-rock or sleepy like artificial nature sounds. Something that is soothing without being sleepy, music to relax the soul. Typically I will turn to classical music, choral music, pop standards, or someone like Mindy Smith or Rosie Thomas. Another great choice along those same lines are the Kings of Convenince, Norwegian pop-duo extraordinaire. Talk about soothing. Pretty, simple melodies with Simon & Garfunkel-like harmonies (that are really more like Garfunkel & Garfunkel-like harmonies, so closely and fluidly do Erik Glambek Bøe and Erlend Øye’s (!!) voices combine). Their 2004 album, Riot on an Empty Street is one of my favorites, but they have been totally silent since then, so far as I know. It was with great happiness then, that I picked up their most recent collaboration, Declaration of Dependence. The songwriting is probably not as uniformly tight as “Empty Street,” but the album is still lovely. Maybe it's just because Flight Of The Conchords has fundamentally changed the way we view folk-duos, but there is part of me, listening to some of these songs, that's unable to take it all seriously. I find myself wondering if there isn’t some tongue-in-cheek going on. (Sample lyric: Hey Baby/Mrs. Cold/acting so tough/didn’t know you had it in you to be hurt at all/you waited/too long/you shoulda hooked me before I put my raincoat on/OK I get it/OK I see/you were affronted 'cause you knew you’d find yourself vulnerable around me/OK I get it/OK I see/you feel vulnerable around me.) I mean, we can’t take that seriously, right? But it certainly is delivered absolutely straight-faced, so if it’s a Conchords-style spoof, they don’t tip their hand at all. Anyway, that’s probably the (questionable?) lowpoint, but the point isn’t the lyrics anyway. It’s the tight harmonies, lilting melodies, and soft mood that wins here – perfect for soothing the nerves (especially on a rainy Friday after a long week of work).

Brandi Carlile - Give Up The Ghost
I have become a big fan of Brandi Carlile’s big, thumping, heart-on-its-sleeve, country-tinged rock & roll. She and “the twins” – Phil and Tim Hanseroth, her guitarist and bassist and writing collaborators – specialize in catchy melodies, somewhat simplistic lyrics (I might call them “lyrics of empowerment” if I wanted to coin a phrase), and restrained bombasticism (not a real word, and also an intended contradiction in terms). Carlile’s like a good, solid meal at your favorite local restaurant: it’s not going to reinvent the wheel or amaze you, but you always leave satisfied and happy. And you always go back. Her latest, Give Up the Ghost, is more of the same, but still good. To my mind, the standout track is the collaboration with Elton John (you heard me), "Caroline," featuring a rollicking tempo, a bit of lightheartedness, and some barroom piano. You don’t realize how serious and somber the proceedings have been until you get that little breath of fresh, flippant fun. It’s enormously welcome. Anyway, it’s a good, solid follow-up to Carlile’s first two good, solid albums. I do have one quibble that I have to get off my chest: after working with IT-producer of yesterday, T-Bone Burnett (the O Brother Where Art Thou soundtrack among many others), Carlile traded up to the IT-producer of today, Rick Rubin (in his reincarnation as a producer of Americana albums). And it’s on track three, "Pride and Joy," that you hear simple, almost droning, repeated piano chords and you think, this sounds familiar, where have I heard that before? Oh, yeah, the last Dixie Chicks album…and the recent Dan Wilson album, Free Life…also those later-period Johnny Cash albums (which were the start of it all). What's the common thread there? All of a sudden you realize it’s the stock Rick Rubin-effect. His signature, or something. Those Cash albums were fantastic and wonderfully done, but as soon as you become self-conscious of production that production-style really loses something, to my mind. And by now it feels like a shadow of a shade of a copy of a copy. Mix it up, Rick Rubin! And while we’re at it, let’s try and stop any more artists I really like from setting up shop with the beardo-weirdo. That lightning is out of the bottle; Johnny Cash captured it, but it ain’t coming back at this point. Brandi Carlile needs someone to help her innovate, for sure, and I applaud her for roving in search of that innovation (I assume I can speak for her intentions like this). But Rick Rubin’s not innovating anymore, he’s retreading tires he put on the Cash-mobile in 1995. I look forward to where Brandi will land next, and hope it isn’t a return to Rubin. Don't stick with Rick, Brandi!