CD Review: Songwriter (and Former Beatle) Ringo Starr’s New Music on “Liverpool 8”

RATING:  3.5 / 5 stars

By Chris Moore:

When I read that Ringo and his longtime musical partner Mark Hudson had severed their working relationship, I was concerned for what Liverpool 8 might end up sounding like. Would it follow in the solid, enjoyable footsteps of 2003’s Ringo Rama and 2005’s Choose Love, or would it embrace a new sound altogether? How would Dave Stewart’s influence as producer manifest itself in the music? As much as I’d like to believe I’m open-minded about artistic development, I have also grown fond of Ringo’s recent sound.

A couple nights after the album’s release, I sat in my car outside the CD store, hurriedly tearing the shrink wrap off of Liverpool 8. As the title track began, I was simultaneously hesitant and intrigued – it was a new sound, but certainly not a negative one – hearing Ringo tumble words-first into the autobiographical, “I was a sailor first…” Some may say (and, in fact, some reviewers have already said) that this song is a campy rehashing of his past exploits as a Beatle. I, however, have to scoff at those sentiments.

It strikes me as far too easy to write off or make fun of an “I remember when” song by an ex-Beatle. Have we forgotten the great ex-Beatle autobiographical songs? (George Harrison’s “All Those Years Ago” and “When We Was Fab,” just to name a couple.) Listen to the track for yourself; I hope you’ll find it as interesting, informative, and fun as I did. My favorite line has to be (referring to the leader of the band he was in when Lennon and McCartney saw him play and asked him to join the Beatles), “Played Butlin’s camp/with my friend Rory/It was good for him/it was great for me.” In a recent live version, I’m certain I saw him grinning on that last part, as if to say, “Of course it was ‘great’ for me!”

Initially, I did find the album to be somewhat darker than his recent work, but that is by no means to suggest that his basic advocacy of the “Peace and Love” lifestyle has lessened; if anything, it is just as strong as it has ever been. Songs like “For Love” and (my personal favorite) the solid rocker “If It’s Love That You Want” may not have the most original lyrics, but they have all the heart that we have grown to expect out of Ringo. Even the more serious songs, such as “Now That She’s Gone Away” and “Gone Are the Days,” shine through with lively guitar solos and, of course, reminders that “it don’t come easy” (Any fan of Ringo’s recent, excellent albums who has checked their Billboard ratings would agree!).

At the end of the day, I cannot say that I like this album more than Choose Love or especially Ringo Rama, but I can say that it is a solid, enjoyable album that proves Ringo cannot be written off as the least talented ex-Beatle. He has been smart enough to surround himself with talented young musician/songwriters who compliment his excellent drumming. He has created and maintained an exciting new sound in his recent work. He possesses a larger-than-life personality that drives even his lesser songs forward. And, if nothing else, he still knows how to rock n’roll!

The Weekend Review: July 2011 Report

By Chris Moore:

 

The Grand Theatre: Volume 2 (Old 97’s)

Producer: Salim Nourallah

Released: July 5, 2011

Rating: 3 / 5 stars

Top Two Tracks: “Manhattan (I’m Done)” & “Brown Haired Daughter”

Oddly enough, it is my pleasure to report on the rockin’ mediocrity of The Grand Theatre: Volume 2.  I do, though, need to revise a previous statement.  In my Weekend Review of Volume 1, I posited two questions: “Are the best songs being split between both records?  If so, then why not make some difficult decisions on the chopping block and release one album that will be the best possible Old 97′s record?  If not, then will Volume Two emerge as a sort of b-sides and unreleased tracks compilation that is destined to disappoint in the shadow of Volume One?”  In retrospect, I should have added a third question to account for another possibility: that Volume 2 would be an enjoyable record, but with an entirely different feel than Volume 1.  Unlike the Barenaked Ladies double-album Are Me/Are Men (which had a united feel throughout both records and the best recordings split between the volumes), the Old 97’s recorded this music during the same set of sessions yet clearly divvied up between two distinct categories: songs that are polished, more artistically rendered and songs that are fun, with a “live” sound.  For my personal preference, Volume 1 will always stand out, but Volume 2 is a solid record.  I, thus, go on the record as saying that this was the perfect release strategy for this body of music.

 

All of You (Colbie Caillat)

Producer: Greg Wells, Ken Caillat, Ryan Tedder, Toby Gad, Jason Reeves, & Rick Nowels

Released: July 11, 2011

Rating: 2.5 / 5 stars

Top Two Tracks: “Shadow” & “What If”

In All of You, we find yet another case of Wings syndrome, a condition found predominantly in singer/songwriters who are exceedingly happy in their personal lives.  These artists seem to have lost the link to the real world, floating into the blissful ether of cheesy lines and upbeat music untempered by frustration, disappointment, or any other clues to suggest the music is being written by a human being.  I have nothing against a good happy song, but for any album to be nothing but pleasant  — and simply so – can be oddly grating.  It leads an average person to wonder about the writer vaguely burying trouble in “Think Good Thoughts” and optimistically addressing existence in “Dream Life, Life.”  What boundaries are there to the dream life?  Without some fleshing out of those details, the overall effect falls short.  After being introduced to outstanding previous Caillat work, notably “Fallin’ For You,” I was disappointed in the quality of All of You.  The trick to beautiful, happy music has always seemed to lie in the subtle artistry.  The best, happiest Jack Johnson music, for instance, has always suggested a wink around the corner, a clever grin waiting to happen, sometimes even a regret or an irritation.  In much of Caillat’s previous work, there has been a sense of beautiful possibilities on the verge of coming true; on All of You, it seems the fairy tale has taken over.  (Though, to be fair, the closing track “Make It Rain” serves as a reminder of her emotional range.)

 

Sky Full of Holes (Fountains of Wayne)

Released: July 20, 2011

Rating: 4 / 5 stars

Top Two Tracks: “Someone’s Gonna Break Your Heart” & “Acela”

For the first time in eight years, since 2003’s Welcome Interstate Managers, I can honestly return to Fountains of Wayne without shaking my head.  It is a testament to the backsliding inherent in Traffic & Weather (2007) that I haven’t been excited about anything from Fountains of Wayne since I heard it.  When I have returned to Welcome Interstate Managers, I’ve been instantly drawn back into its dynamic magnetism.  That being said, I’ve all but ignored their back catalog, haven’t even heard Traffic & Weather all the way through, and was not excited about this year’s Sky Full of Holes in the least.  For some reason, though, I did buy it.  (I’ll go on record here, though, as saying I don’t and have never owned a copy of Traffic.)  So strong was this distaste for their previous record that I’ve only recently grown to fully appreciate Sky Full of Holes: the folksy charm, the range apparent in the instrumentation and even the lyricism.  The same characteristic Fountains of Wayne wit and voice are maintained throughout, yet there is a sense of returning to roots and to rock here in the best sense: embracing the acoustic guitar, lacing the best tracks with guitar solos and lush vocals.  In short, Sky Full of Holes isn’t so much a return to form as it is a step forward in their career.  Does it match the peaks of their 2003 masterpiece?  Not quite.  But it certainly doesn’t disappoint.

 

Rabbits on the Run (Vanessa Carlton)

Producer: Steve Osborne

Released: July 26, 2011

Rating: 3.5 / 5 stars

Top Two Tracks: “I Don’t Want to Be a Bride” & “Dear California”

Though she can probably best be described, from the public view at least, as a one-hit wonder, Vanessa Carlton continues to labor artistically, successfully in relative obscurity.  To be certain, there are echoes of her previous work here on Rabbits on the Run, but there is also a vitality, an authenticity to her delivery that was probably lacking on her early work.  As the cover would suggest, her new album is simple effort: ten tracks that rely most heavily on the gorgeous triad of vocals, piano (and other real instruments), and lyrics.  Guitars are used to great effect throughout, particularly on a standout like “Dear California,” a track that cleverly employs the “Surfin’” lineup of guitar, bass, and simple drums, with some Carlton-tinged piano thrown in to color the recording to fit her work, immediately flowing back into her characteristic cross between upbeat and murky, soaring and haunting, in “Tall Tales for Spring.”  The pinnacle, though, comes early in “I Don’t Want to Be a Bride,” a sparsely arranged statement of standing apart from societal and family expectations in confidence of one’s self and one’s relationship, expressing an independence from institutions and documents in favor of the abstract concepts purportedly expressed in the aforementioned conventions.

 

Back Pages (America)

Released: July 26, 2011

Rating: 2 / 5 stars

Top Two Tracks: “Caroline No” & “A Road Song”

Nothing smells quite so stale as an album of covers billed as a “new studio album,” released over four and a half years after the previous studio album.  In America’s case, Back Pages is hardly a quality follow-up to the heights of 2007’s excellent, modern-feeling Here & Now or their album before that, 1998’s Human Nature.  I suppose, considering their previous two releases, it should come as no surprise that any album would have a difficult time living up to recent memory.  But a covers album?  Back Pages didn’t stand a chance.  For the true fan, there are obvious high points: particularly on their sweet, sublime rendition of Pet Sounds alum “Caroline No” and in the obligatory “America” cover, which was truly a nice touch.  Probably the best track on the album is “A Road Song,” in the sense that it sounds vital, new… probably because it is: America released this Fountains of Wayne cover a matter of days before they released their recording.  That is what is perhaps most disappointing about Back Pages: it only serves as a reminder of the uniquely excellent work that has come before and the promise of what might be yet to come.  If I wanted to hear an excellent New Radicals cover, I would’ve turned to Hall and Oates.  However, I expect more from an America release.

CD Review: Brian Wilson’s “SMiLE”

RATING:  5 / 5 stars

By Chris Moore:

SMiLE has arrived!

This was the general battle cry that my closest friends and I sounded after we heard official reports of the scheduled 2004 release of an album that had originally been conceived nearly four decades earlier. Billed as “the abandoned follow-up to the Beach Boys’ classic Pet Sounds,” SMiLE was indeed released in 2004, accompanied by a tour that left nothing to be desired. Short of going back in time and releasing a SMiLE that would have been fronted by Carl and Dennis Wilson and would have gone up against the Beatles’ Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, Brian Wilson could do little more to truly do this album—his album—justice.

To critique the songs or to analyze them at any length would be, for me (the amateur critic), an exercise in misconceived self-importance. This is an album that has been elected Album of the Year by Rolling Stone, The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, Entertainment Weekly, and USA Today. According to one advertisement, “…it has been declared a ‘masterpiece’ by Newsweek, and ‘a serious contender for the greatest album ever made’ by London’s The Independent.” Widespread acceptance and acclamation of this caliber must be taken seriously and, to an extent, must be questioned. Can one album be so wonderful as to deserve such accolades? Can the fact that SMiLE holds a historical importance have colored the reviews that it is receiving? I hesitate to heap additional praises on the album for this reason, as well as the fact that I have little to add that has not already been said.

This being said, I must heap additional—yet not undue—praises upon this album and the tour that accompanied it. I attended the SMiLE concert at Carnegie Hall and again when it came to my hometown of Wallingford, at the Oakdale (reluctantly I now say, Chevrolet) Theater. Additionally, I watched the DVD release that was filmed during a concert in Los Angeles. This is a body of work that I am well familiar with. This is the Brian Wilson who earned his fame leading the Beach Boys during their surfer music days. This is the Brian Wilson who paved the way for songwriters everywhere with the conception and creation of Pet Sounds. And this is the Brian Wilson who continued to create music, ranging from mediocre to incredible, both for better (think: Imagination) and for worse, remaining in relative anonymity for all these years. This is indeed the Brian Wilson who deserves all the credit in the world for reaching back into an “abandoned” project, pushing aside personal demons—both figurative and literal, and injecting new energy into what is essentially a forty-year old concept.

This is the most and the best I can say for SMiLE: it is not a wanna-be Beach Boys album. It is not a simple re-recording of demos and snippets that fans have been listening to for decades. This is an album that stands on its own, interweaving the old and the new, bringing the old voices—Van Dyke Parks’ pen and Brian Wilson’s mouth—together with the new voices—Darian Sahanaja and Nick Walusko of the Wondermints and eight other talented musicians and singers, not to mention the eight-piece Stockholm Strings ‘n’ Horns section that followed him on tour.

The album is a three-part composition. The songs range from light-hearted and even silly (think: “Vega-Tables”) to poetic (think: “Surf’s Up”) to vocally brilliant (think: “Our Prayer”) and sometimes all in the same track (think: “In Blue Hawaii”). I was particularly impressed by the manner in which Wilson utilized the Beach Boys hits “Heroes and Villains” and “Good Vibrations” as book ends for this album.

You’ll laugh. You’ll cry. And you might even smile.

11/2005

REVIEW: Steven Page’s “Page One” (2010) – Special to the LS Blog

By Ben Neal:

RATING: 4.5 / 5 stars

The first album I ever fell in love with was BNL’s Maroon, which was the band’s last real presence on the consciousness of the mainstream public (in America, at least). Maroon starts out light and entertaining enough with the first five songs, but the back half of the album was where the beauty was to be found. Each track became progressively darker and dealt with issues varying from adultery to a cynical view of idealism to celebrity and political satire with a great level of success. I still listen to it as much as I did that Fall of 2001, and like a great novel or a great film it still packs the same punch, even though the songs mean something different for me than they did back then. From that point on, I was hooked on BNL and in particular, the songs sung by Steven Page. Page’s songs always had a certain quintessential quality: contrasting bright sounds with dark lyrics that always had a bit of irony and double meaning, and he was never afraid to look back and be referential towards his influences, be they musical or literary.

Why am I writing about a decade-old album when reviewing Steven Page’s latest album Page One? In some ways, Page One represents the full evolution of an artist and capitalizes on the potential of Maroon, both musically and thematically. Where Maroon was ultimately about taking (or at least, trying or wanting to) charge and control of one’s life, Page One is about finally doing just that.

Page One kicks off with “A New Shore”, a metaphorical journey about beginning anew and being hopeful, and frankly I can think of no better way for Page to start this album. It’s a song you did not expect, from the horn-heavy composition to the hopeful nature of the song; whereas many fans expected this is to be a more morbid record, this is a signal we are in for a more optimistic and bright album that anyone could have expected. While the story of the song is told via nautical references, the subtext is pretty clear and addresses his departure from his role as a “black mark” in a cheerful band by saying “I forget whether I was pushed or jumped aboard and after all of this time what is the difference?” “A New Shore”’s use of metaphor is a reminder that some of the best BNL songs were always told by allegory (a la “Bank Job” or “When I Fall”).

Indecision is a rather odd choice to follow-up A New Shore, since it seems to be a polar opposite to the latter’s emphasis on making a change and being happy with it. “Indecision” actually dates back a few years and was never included on BNL albums due to their shift away from songs co-written by anyone outside of the band, and is reminiscent of songs like “Upside Down” or “Bull in a China Shop.” That being said, it is a very strong song that represents some of the best sounds you will hear on most contemporary albums, even if it feels slightly out of place on this album. Ironically, it makes a good retro-response to “I Have Learned”’s, where Ed Robertson sings “You’re not comfortable until you’re not/when things get wonderful, you get hot.”

Next up is the folksy, but extremely powerful “Clifton Springs,” which Page has described as one of the most personal songs on the album. It follows a pretty straightforward personal narrative that, ironically, tells the story of the pratfalls of not trusting yourself and of being held hostage by “indecision.”

Page One (Steven Page, 2010)

Page One (Steven Page, 2010)

Up next is what some would call an anti-matrimonial trilogy of “Entourage,” “Marry Me,” and “All the Young Monogamists.” However, I don’t see these songs as an attack on marriage or monogamy at all. “Entourage” in the tradition of “Sell Sell Sell” and “Celebrity” represents a biting satire on the state of big time celebrity, whereas “Marry Me” and “Monogamists” examine marriage and serious relationships from a jaded perspective to be sure (this is Steven Page, after all), but they both ultimately embrace the relationships. “Monogamists” also has been self-described by Page as his first true love song, albeit one with jaded protagonists and features some beautiful strings and is one of the album’s highlights.

“She’s Trying to Save Me” and “Over Joy” represent a change both musically and thematically from the earlier songs in the album and sound like reminiscent fresh pop music from the 60s and 70s, yet deal with the destructive effects that depression can have on relationships. Page has always soared highest in my mind when singing about these issues (“This is Where It Ends,” “War on Drugs,” etc.) and does not disappoint here. In particular, “Over Joy” is an amazingly beautiful song that is perfectly produced and Page’s voice is wonderful here with every inflection expertly enacted. “Over Joy” also does what Page does best: contrast dark lyrics with a sunny composition (see “So.Cal” from The Vanity Project as another example). Personally, I find it to be my favorite track on this excellent album.

The next three tracks could not be more divergent. “If You Love Me” is a brazen and bold track that borders on camp, but ultimately works more than I could have ever imagined and serves as a reminder of Page’s origins as a Duran Duran (the original lead singer of Duran Duran, Stephen Duffy co-wrote much of the album with Page) devotee. “Leave Her Alone” is as Chris Moore noted in his review, a quite dynamic track and one that harkens back to the “big band” era of yesteryear. Like “When You Dream” from Stunt, it speaks to parenthood, but from a very different perspective. “Queen of America,” on the other hand is unlike anything I’ve heard from the BNL/Page canon before. It tells the story of a drag queen and explores how gay culture is often co-opted by mainstream society, and the indulgent overproduction of this track makes its sound and theme quite ironic. One of the most interesting elements of these songs is how they illustrate how various songs on this album fit in nicely with the music of probably six decades and none of the tracks are predictable.

This finally brings me to “The Chorus, Girl.” I include the comma because, in classic Page fashion, the title has a double meaning: the song is about the Chorus, girl and not a girl in a chorus line. This is an amazing and transcendent song with an almost epic and universal appeal, and is about the difficulty in creating art and the danger in trying to be Everything to Everyone whether in art or in life. In some ways, it serves a nice bookend to “Running Out of Ink” as its essentially about having trouble with the creative process, but this song works on a macro-level where “Ink” addressed these issues on a more micro level. It’s a heartbreaking and beautiful song and stands out as probably the best of the album and one of the best of his career. From the first few chords to the “la la la”s at the end, it is a song to behold and treasure.

While it has flaws (namely a couple instances of overproduction and due to being written over a number of years, lacking cohesion), Page One represents some of Page’s best work to date and is an album to behold, treasure, and undoubtedly listen to, over and over and over for years to come. It represents the full evolution of a great artist and packs an emotional punch without feeling too weighty. It also, thankfully, brings us the return of Page’s songwriting partnership with Stephen Duffy. In the early BNL era he co-wrote songs such as “Jane,” “Call and Answer,” and the powerful, but never recorded “Powder Blue”; but in an effort to make the band more member-centric, a decision was made to only record songs from within the band so his songs did not make the cut for the last several BNL albums.  While it’s sad to see the Page/Robertson songwriting duo come to an end, it’s refreshing to see the return of the Duffy partnership.

As I close, I was struck by the similarities (despite being very different artists) of two of the favorites of the Laptop Sessions (and me personally):  Steven Page and Jakob Dylan. Both were quasi-one hit wonders from the 1990s remembered for a super-hit song. Ironically, both their best works came in the years immediately after their peak of popularity (Maroon for Page and  Breach and Red Letter Days for Dylan). Both always fought various preconceptions of being silly or being known for/compared to who their father was; both are not afraid to be self-referential/depreciating in their music (“Hand Me Down” or “Box Set”), both vary through musical genres with ease and unpredictability, and both are two of the finest and fearless artists of their generation.