MUSIC REVIEWS
Edie Brickell’s first new record since 2006 with her original band New Bohemians is a triumphant return for an artist who never really left.
“Rocket” reunites Brickell with the band that broke onto the scene in 1988 with the Top 10 hit “What I Am” but released only three records in the 30 years since then. Brickell went on to a solo career, married Paul Simon and more recently collaborated with Steve Martin on a pair of bluegrass records and the Broadway musical “Bright Star.”
The New Bohemians remained close, playing oneoff shows over the years, eyeing the right time to record again. Brickell promises “Rocket” is the start of a renewed commitment to the band, with more records to come.
That’s great news. Their joy in recording together again is clear on “Rocket,” a record that touches on a variety of musical styles with ease.
Brickell’s effervescent vocals never sounded better than with the New Bohemians backing her. How fun is it to hear Brickell singing “Superman, Spider-Man, Batman, you’re the man” on “Superhero”? It’s a standout track with an infectious, freight-train chugging guitar riff from Kenny Withrow.
The answer to the question posed by the first single, “What Makes You Happy,” is clear for Brickell and the New Bohemians. You can hear it, too, by listening to “Rocket.”— Scott Bauer, The Associated Press
As the world is running down, the Bottle Rockets offer a no-nonsense view of their surroundings through Brian Henneman’s sharp songwriting and some rocking country guitar playing by John Horton.
“Bit Logic” is the Missouri band’s 13th album since their 1993 self-titled debut—which had backing vocals from Jeff Tweedy and Jay Farrar— released when the Bottle Rockets were in the midst of the alt-country/Americana explosion.
To say little has changed since then would be an exaggeration because their lineup is different—with the current one intact for well over a decade—and might create an impression of stagnation. Au
contraire. Henneman’s keen eye for the complications in simple lives only gets sharper and Horton’s guitar is ever more thrilling as is the rhythm section of founding member Mark Oatmann (drums) and “new kid” Keith Voegele, on bass since 2005.
“Bad Time to Be an Outlaw” has funky guitars parts coming at you from both speakers, like a roots-rock “Marquee Moon.” It adds itself to the long list of songs lamenting the glitz and marketing ploys of the Nashville scene. “My music’s good but my income sucks,” Henneman sings, a realistic grievance.
“Carrie Underwood don’t make country sound/But she can afford it when shit breaks down,” he intones later in the song.
“Human Perfection” finds beauty in immediate surroundings, while “Knotty Pine” is a tribute to a songwriting room (“a psychiatrist-treehouse composite”). “Highway 70 Blues” paints the frustration of an Interstate traffic jam and “Lo-Fi” remarks how technological advances sometimes diminish the fidelity of music listening.
“Silver Ring” ends the album on a tender note, as Henneman, whose voice combines Dave Edmunds, Levon Helm and John Prine, bears witness to a most crucial relationship, the one with your true love.
You’ll have to find your own solutions, but on “Bit Logic” the Bottle Rockets offer some clues.—Pablo Gorondi, The Associated Press
At age 66, John Hiatt is still writing love songs—and good ones. On “The Eclipse Sessions,” he sings about the wonder of love, the trouble with love, flowering love and faded love.
Not that Hiatt has turned syrupy. Wry lyrics provide a bulwark against sentimentality, and the Indiana native’s untethered corn belt tenor is the perfect delivery system. “If you want me, baby, I’m over the hill,” he sings.
Last year’s solar eclipse during the recording sessions gave the album its name, and from near total darkness came sunny performances with a live feel. Hiatt’s voice and acoustic guitar are front and center, and as usual he’s accompanied by a terrific guitarist. This time it’s Yates McKendree, son of the album’s producer, Kevin McKendree.
There are fetching melodies and rhythmic wrinkles characteristic of Hiatt’s best work. He rocks, sings the blues and digs deep, especially on the autobiographical closing cut, “Robber’s Highway,” which he wrote while battling writer’s block. The rest of the album followed, with Hiatt finding inspiration doing the romance dance.—Steven Wine, The Associated Press
There’s a whole lotta Led Zeppelin in Greta Van Fleet, but they haven’t yet found their Stairway.
On its debut album, “Anthem of the Peaceful Army,” the Michigan quartet channels Led Zeppelin and ’70s-style old-school classic rock with scary precision, on tracks like “When the Curtain Falls,” ”Watching Over” and “Lover Leaver (Taker Believer).”
They have Zep’s sound down so perfectly that it’s not hard to imagine you’re listening to Jimmy Page playing slide guitar or a jangly acoustic piece.
The big difference here is in the songwriting: While Greta Van Fleet have rightly generated a huge buzz as an up-and-coming young band that convincingly plays oldschool hard rock, they have yet to take that crucial next step and write a rock anthem that burns its way into your brain with just one listen.
There’s no “Whole Lotta Love” or “Heartbreaker” riff here—yet—to cement Greta Van Fleet’s place in rock history. But they’ve got the foundation and the talent to support the next great classic rocker, whenever it might arrive.— Wayne Parry, The Associated Press
Perhaps you can’t get Kurt Vile to stand still.
Vile co-founded The War on Drugs and promptly quit after the formidable band’s debut album release, setting out for a solo career. Now we find him ambling around the country and recording just enough fine music to deliver “Bottle It In,” an accessible guitar-fueled foray into the things that give him artistic pause and push him forward.
Vile is inventive throughout the 13-song album, leaning on a lazy lilt of electric guitar to provide the background to his playful lyrics. “Check Baby” buzzes with energy as Vile sings about taking the stage and prepping to play music. A song about preparing to play songs is Vile at his finest.
Then there are the calmer offerings, such as “Mutinies,” on which we find Vile backed by Sonic Youth’s Kim Gordon. On this track Vile sings about controlling urges in his mind, rebuffing them with pills
where applicable.
The centerpiece here is the nine-plus minute “Bassackwards.” It’s psychedelic and indeed backwards (stabs of guitar sound magically reversed at times) and upside down and addresses how Vile says he sees the world. This is an accomplished release and should earn Vile some new fans and assure his longtime followers that he’s on top of his game.— By Ron Harris, The Associated Press
Ace Frehley may or may not be returned to the fold when Kiss launches their (second) farewell tour next year, but whatever the result, he sure sounds ready for the gig.
On his new solo album, “Spaceman,” the legendary guitarist oozes classic rock style and six-string chops that sound as good today as they did in 1975.
Frehley even whips out his own version of “Beth” in “Rockin’ With the Boys,” an ode to the sad woman left at home while her man rocks out with the band.
Things really move into high gear on “Bronx Boy,” which would have been right at home on the best Thin Lizzy albums, and “Mission to Mars,” where speed and volume fight one another to a wonderful draw.
And yet maybe Frehley knows, deep inside, that a third stint in Spaceman makeup might not be in the cards: He covers Eddie Money’s “I Wanna Go Back,” which includes the realization “but I can’t go back, I know.”— Wayne Parry, The Associated Press
Jason Isbell has been on a roll of late, finding sobriety, domestic bliss and fame and fortune, thanks to three consecutive fine albums and a crackerjack touring act that includes his wife, Amanda Shires.
Alas, all winning streaks come to an end. “Live from the Ryman” ranks as a disappointment, partly because Isbell’s previous work set the artistic bar so high.
The album was recorded at Nashville’s Ryman Auditorium, and as Isbell and his band replicate studio versions of their songs, the performances are faithful to a fault. There are no dramatically reimaged renditions, and while the 13
selections are mostly terrific tunes, they’re all from Isbell’s three most recent records. That means no covers, and no trips into Isbell’s back catalog. In other words, no surprises.
Even the division of labor smacks of ho-hum—Isbell is an outstanding guitarist but seldom solos. And then there’s the audience, often a distraction on concert recordings. The spectators don’t clap on the one and the three, but when Isbell sings the first line of “Elephant,” a wrenching tune about disease and death, someone responds with a clueless “Woo!” To hear it once is off-putting, and it happens every time.
Perhaps Isbell merely wanted to document his appearance at the cathedral of country music. But live albums worth more than a couple of listens are rare, and this isn’t one of them.—Steven Wine, The Associated Press
In 2016, she was Haley Bonar and “Impossible Dream” was her album of gliding power-pop and cinematic textures. Last year, she changed her name to Haley McCallum, now performs as HALEY and “Pleasureland” is an album of instrumentals which purges power-pop and expands the cinematic feel.
HALEY says her decision to go wordless came in response to the 2016 U.S. elections and her difficulties with finding the right terms to express herself but even without lyrics, the passion in the generally brief compositions is unmissable.
Leading the way with piano and synths, HALEY occasionally also straps on an electric guitar with the tunes also featuring a handful of musicians like Mike Lewis on saxophone and Erica Burton on violin and viola.
“Give Yourself Away” is a haunting, spacey ballad in Pink Floyd and Radiohead mode, moving slowly toward more melodic parts that shine through like sunlight after an eclipse. The piano and tremolo guitar on “Future Maps” draw out an elastic melody while the sweeping piano arpeggios on “Credit Forever, Pt. 2” may cause you to want to learn the instrument.
“Syrup” is like mangled metal and the sax on6 “Pig Latin” is breathy and melancholy. The delicacy and gentleness of “Next Time (For C)” may be rooted in its dedication to Clementine, HALEY’s daughter, and “Lonely As a Mother” overcomes some static noise before piano and strings create their own disquiet.
Though one can’t help but yearn for another “regular” album with her affecting voice and observant lyrics, HALEY upends expectations with “Pleasureland,” expressing and sharing her emotions in daring fashion.—Pablo Gorondi, The Associated Press