Broken Social Scene’s “Lo-Fi for the Dividing Nights” (2010) – The Weekend Review

By Chris Moore:

RATING:  3 / 5 stars

Otherworldly and haunting, yet so pretty and longing.

This is the best way I can think of to describe Lo-Fi for the Dividing Nights, the EP that Broken Social Scene tacked onto some editions of this year’s Forgiveness Rock Record.  In keeping with the aesthetics of the tracks, the physical release is plain; if you’ve seen the album cover, you’ve pretty much seen it all, except for a similar back cover and a navy blue disc with white letters.

And yet, there is a simple beauty to the ten brief songs that are appended to the full album.  Forgiveness Rock Record is a solid album, one which I will review before the year is out, and yet it is not as notable as this little, possibly forgettable, largely instrumental ten-track EP.

It is in the concision of its songs that this collection shines.

Unlike its full-length counterpart, which suffers at times from not knowing when to stop, Lo-Fi for the Dividing Nights does not let any one track stretch out for too long.  No single idea, riff, or sound is carried out for more than a minute or two, and this is what propels this album.

Broken Social Scene's "Lo-Fi for the Dividing Nights" (2010)

Broken Social Scene's "Lo-Fi for the Dividing Nights" (2010)

TRACK LISTING:

1)  New Instructions

2)  Sudden Foot Loss

3)  Shabba Lights

4)  Song for Dee

5)  Eling’s Haus

6)  Professor Sambo

7)  Never Felt Alive

8)  Paperweight Room

9)  Turbo Mouse

10) Far Out

“Song for Dee,” in asking, “Good times, where’d you go?,” provides the central motivation for the melancholy that permeates these tracks.  Even the comparably brighter “Eling’s Haus” which follows “Song for Dee” is constrained by the repeated drone that sets the rhythm of the song.

“New Instructions” provides an opening for the EP that sounds vaguely like the acoustic fingerpicking from a Simon and Garfunkel single, but the subsequent layers that are added steers the track in a new direction.  “Sudden Foot Loss” follows; it is also acoustic in nature, but is much more unified in its sound, with one strong guitar up front and center in the mix.  The picking here is very simple and regular, with fleeting yet also regular flourishes between repetitions of the riff.  The background invites the mood of a dream, which is explored further on the track that follows.

“Shabba Lights” hints at human voices in the ah’s and ooh’s that accompany the horns and bells.  This introduces “Song for Dee,” which would be the simplest and unassuming track in any other context; here it is the only song that sounds like, well, a song.

Unlike the others, it has verses and words.

The second half of Lo-Fi for the Dividing Nights drags a bit, with “Professor Sambo” providing ample time and space to consider what else might be said about Dee or other causes of the somber, trance-like tone of this EP.  More vocals arrive on “Never Felt Alive,” but the words are difficult to make out, other than the three that comprise the title.

If regret could be translated into sounds, then it would sound precisely like “Paperweight Room,” a song whose title invites the listener to imagine a space, perhaps composed of memories, characterized by its ability to weigh one down.

The acoustic picking on “Turbo Mouse” is as pretty as the accompanying music is sad and offputting.  It all builds up to the aptly titled final track, “Far Out,” which sounds as though it is set in outer space.

In the end, Lo-Fi for the Dividing Nights doesn’t say much.

Literally.

And yet it is the otherworldly, haunting, and yet beautiful textures that make the EP alluring and compelling.  By saying less, it invites more imagination, and it is unsurprisingly an excellent choice of music to put on after dark.

This Broken Social Scene EP is one of the pleasant surprises of the year.  You won’t hear much about it, but it is one of the most compelling collections of stripped down acoustic instrumentals I’ve heard in a long time — I dare say, perhaps ever.

Michelle Branch’s “Everything Comes and Goes” (2010) – The Weekend Review

By Chris Moore:

RATING:  2 / 5 stars

Four years since her last album — seven since her last solo album — Michelle Branch has finally graced us with twenty minutes of new music.  These twenty minutes are spread out across the six tracks that survived from Everything Comes and Goes (the album) to Everything Comes and Goes (the EP). 

According to Branch, this is a “bonus album,” as though we should be thanking a professional singer/songwriter/recording & performing artist for releasing new music every four — or seven — years.

Not surprisingly, Branch has opted to work in the country genre, picking up as a solo artist where she left off with the Wreckers.  And, as a testament to her apparent commercial value, her download-only initial release has been followed with a physical release, albeit an unimpressively packaged one, in some record stores.  Her lead single “Sooner or Later” even cracked the Billboard Hot 100.  In the meantime, ex-Wrecker Jessica Harp has receded from public life as a solo recording artist to focus on writing country songs, ostensibly motivated by fluctuating label support and in the absence of any breakthrough success.

So, Everything Comes and Goes is a survivor’s tale of sorts, perhaps to be read as a truth:  some people come and some people go.

In the case of the Wreckers, Branch obviously belongs to the former.

No stranger to single-worthy material, Branch makes it clear through this release that she still has the ability, as well as the desire, to write clear, concise tunes, any of which could be coming to a romantic comedy soundtrack at a music store near you.  The opener, “Ready to Let You Go,” may delve quite deeply into the country genre, Branch affecting the rural inflections that served her so well in her previous role as one half of that aforementioned duo, but this genre jumping is not so extreme as it might seem.

After track one fades, the remainder of the album leans most heavily toward pop/rock, with country flourishes. 

"Everything Comes and Goes" (2010)

"Everything Comes and Goes" (2010)

“Sooner or Later” begins deceptively, subdued and acoustic, yet when the groove sets in, it becomes apparent that this is the same Michelle Branch that recorded 2003’s outstanding Hotel Paper.  It may not be at the level of “it feels like she never left,” but there isn’t much rust to shake off.  And the the country inflections work quite well here, subdued as they are. 

The remainder of the EP slows down a bit, but retains its catchiness and simple beauty.  “Crazy Ride” peaks with the wonderful harmonies Branch layered on top, singing all the background vocals alone for the first time since her major label debut, The Spirit Room (2001).  “Summertime” and the title track are pretty songs, easy listening to be certain and notably underwhelming. 

The sole cover, “I Want Tears,” was written by two members of her musical team, and yet it still begs the question: was it necessary to turn to other writers for this release?  Apparently, the response to that question arrives in the affirmative, as there is but a single track — the title track — that is written by Branch alone. 

This should come as no surprise.  Branch and Harp co-wrote fewer than half of the songs on 2006’s Stand Still, Look Pretty, and Branch only contributed two others, one of which was a collaboration.  To be fair, this Wreckers disc is a truly excellent record, although Jessica Harp (formerly the background vocalist/friend to 2003 Branch) contributes what are arguably the best songs, tracks like “Tennessee” and “Cigarettes.” 

It is uncanny just how similar Harp and Branch sound on record, and yet there’s something to be said for Branch’s staying power as a recording artist.  (Of course, it sure must be helpful having pop-hockers like John Shanks hanging around throughout your career, ready to stitch together a potential hit, a relationship that, at least to a degree, begs the question: how much of Branch’s music is really Branch?)

Regardless, all that is on and around Everything Comes and Goes amounts to this: it is a solid EP, and a disappointing release from an artist who first promised a full studio album would drop in late ’08, then summer 2009.  The reality is a largely digital release of six songs.  Call it an EP, call it a “bonus album,” call it anything you’d like.

It is simply not a release of the quality one would expect from a singer/songwriter who took the roof off with her underrated and underappreciated 2003 solo album. 

Now, comfortably crouched under the Country cabin in the company of writers and producers very much in the habit of turning out hits, Branch’s work only hints at her individuality and potential.  Let’s hope her forthcoming full studio effort Different Kind of Country — scheduled for a 2011 release, which could just as easily become 2013 — is actually a different kind of country music.  I, for one, want something that is, for better or for worse, a legitimate Michelle Branch record.

STP’s “Stone Temple Pilots” (2010) – Yes, No, or Maybe So

STP’s Stone Temple Pilots (2010) – MAYBE

STP's "Stone Temple Pilots" (2010)

STP's "Stone Temple Pilots" (2010)

(May 25, 2010)

Review:

This time around, Stone Temple Pilots have gone for the obvious with the album title yet have taken a surprising turn toward the realm of power pop; the first half is populated by dumb but fun rockers, being the rare case where the real gems are sprinkled through the second half.

Top Two Tracks:

“Cinnamon” & “First Kiss on Mars”

Brian Wilson’s “Brian Wilson Reimagines Gershwin” (2010) – The Weekend Review

By Chris Moore:

RATING:  3.5 / 5 stars

For songwriters with strong, distinct voices, albums populated by covers are typically stopovers between other, more serious efforts.  For Wilson, it appears that projects such as this are where he looks these days to keep himself occupied while he waits for inspiration to strike.

Brian Wilson Reimagines Gershwin delivers just about what you’d expect from the former Beach Boy: lush harmonies laid over a bed of smart, tight pop music, albeit the pop music of a bygone era.

Perhaps the slogan for this release should have been, “Brian Wilson updates the music of the Gershwin brothers… to the sixties!”

The greatest criticism I can lob at Reimagines is its apparent contentment to revisit the established.  Wilson was given access to fragments of songs written but never finished by Gershwin that numbered in the triple digits, and yet there are only two new compositions — “The Like in I Love You” and “Nothing But Love” — which provide the bookends for the full-length tracks.

Simply put, this is what prevents Reimagines from reaching the same creative heights as Mermaid Avenue (the original, and Vol. II not so much), a similar project conducted by Wilco and Billy Bragg.  The key difference there, of course, was that they dipped exclusively into unfinished lyrics and wrote the music for them.  The results on Mermaid Avenue should be attributed just as much to Wilco and Bragg as to Guthrie, whereas Reimagines often reads as a collection of Gershwin tracks with the Brian Wilson filter applied.

In other words, Reimagines often plays more as a tribute from Wilson and his band than as a fresh and creative project.

On the other hand, to label Reimagines as a straightforward tribute to the Gershwin brothers would be to unfairly marginalize the creative spirit that Wilson so evidently brought to these recordings, not to mention the crispness and emotion that each of his lead vocals are imbued with.  There can be no question as to his intentions; he clearly threw himself into the project, as supported by reports that he would spend eight hours a day in the studio perfecting his vocals.

Brian Wilson Reimagines Gershwin (2010)

Brian Wilson Reimagines Gershwin (2010)

There are many, many positive words to be said about this record.

For starters, even on a project that lends itself to slow paced, old-school compositions — and he does indulge at times — Wilson and his crack band of music makers manage to carve out a record that verges on rock.  As would be expected, there are some beautiful bass lines and some wonderfully fun harmonies that beg to be sung along with.

There are other touches, many of them subtle, that should allow for Reimagines to be accepted among Wilson’s studio discography, as opposed to a one-off side effort.  Paul Von Mertens’ contributions can’t be overstated, serving as a link between the instruments that were employed on many of the original recordings of these songs and Wilson’s more rock/pop-oriented arsenal of drums, guitar, and bass.  Likewise, Probyn Gregory’s acoustic guitars add significantly to many of the tracks, filling in the gaps admirably.  The acoustic guitar is not an instrument one might readily associate with Wilson’s general sound, which makes it all the more notable.

“Rhapsody in Blue,” snippets of which serve as the intro and outro of the record, should be familiar to fans as a song that Wilson has noted in past interviews as one of his influences.  That this is the song he chose to place at the corners is quite fitting, and that he would choose to sing the multiple vocal tracks entirely on his own may, if nothing else, be read as a sign that he is still in command of his music.  Reports of his mental acuity — or lack thereof — may not have been greatly exaggerated, but no one should presume to claim that Wilson is present on his recordings in name only these days.

“Summertime,” the first full-length cover, touches on bits of Billy Stewart’s chart-topping 1989 version in the intro but quickly spreads out into a ballad filled out with horn blasts, twinkling bursts of piano, and strings that loom ominously on the horizon.  This version is a bit slow, but after the recognizable Wilson-esque romp of “The Like in I Love You,” it’s as though he is flexing his classical muscle, as he continues to do on “I Loves You, Porgy.”

Subsequently, the instrumental “I Got Plenty O’ Nuttin'” sounds like it could have been found on a Pet Sounds outtakes tape, the bass harmonica adding greatly to that feel.  “It Ain’t Necessarily So” is probably the first track on the album that is a fully realized blending of traditional and more modern styles, to the point that the two are difficult to distinguish between.

This is when Reimagines works so well: when Wilson manages to blends a traditional approach toward these songs with his own distinctive sound.  Contrary to some recent criticism, Wilson does not merely reconfigure the words to fit over instrumentals that conjure his previous songs, except perhaps for “They Can’t Take That Away From Me.”  Where it works exceedingly well, by the way.

Where the album does fall short is on tracks like “‘s Wonderful” and “Love is Here to Stay” that fail to transcend lounge music, being little more than standard covers that don’t diverge all that much from the originals.

“I Got a Crush on You” sounds like it was ripped off a best ballads of the fifties disc, and it works surprisingly well.  It is followed by “I Got Rhythm,” which sounds like a cross between SMiLE and surf rock on the intro, before settling down into a groove that sounds like all the best parts of a sixties Beach Boys song.  Then comes the indisputable latter-half gem “Someone to Watch Over Me,” easily one of the most beautiful little tracks Wilson has recorded in years.

The original tracks are the strongest efforts on the album, and it is for this reason that the decision to stick primarily to covers will always baffle and disappoint me.  It is the single strongest justification for why I’ve denied Reimagines a rating of 4 stars: for all the promise of what could have been.  It is still an enjoyable record and I would argue that it has earned its place as a serious effort, in league with Wilson’s recent and quite excellent albums.