Christine Fellows – Roses on the Vine

Christine Fellows – Roses on the Vine (Vivat Virtute)

There’s no easy box in which to fit Christine Fellows. The Winnipeg artist is a singer-songwriter who collaborates with visual artists and choreographers, writing songs based on people and events generations apart. For most of her career she played piano; other than textural synths, there are few, if any, keyboards on this, her seventh album. It was co-produced by her life and writing partner, John K. Samson of the Weakerthans; she, in turn, plays the same role on his recent records. Their influence on each other is obvious, and fans of the intricate character studies in his songs will find plenty to love in the writing of Fellows.

Roses on the Vine might well be her finest work to date, even from just a purely musical standpoint. There’s too much ukulele here for my own tastes, but other than that the plaintive cellos, the blurpy and droning synths, stuttering drum machines, and the always eclectic percussion from the Weakerthans’ Jason Tait all colour these creations in indelible ways.

The title track is a straight-up country song, and it’s a beautiful one. “One More For the Road” should be the closing song at every Canadian folk festival in the next 10 years. “Me and Carmen” is deep into Sufjan Stevens territory: wistful but wise. “Evening Train” owes a debt to Television’s “Marquee Moon.” "Unleashed" is so pop it could be a Tegan and Sara song.

It all adds up to a dense but rewarding listen, an embrace of eclecticism, and a masterful display of craft. Phase two of her career starts now.

Stream: "Evening Train," "Unleashed" “Spell to Bring Lost Creatures Home”

October '16 reviews

Highly recommended this month: The Comet is Coming, John K. Samson

Highly recommended, reviewed earlier: Leonard Cohen, Gord Downie

Well worth your while: Craig David, Solange, Tagaq, Donovan Woods

As always, these reviews ran in the Waterloo Record.

Streaming is great for sample purposes, but please find a way to directly support your favourite artists financially.

Blackie and the Rodeo Kings – Kings and Kings (File Under: Music)

Boys club! The all-male trio Blackie and the Rodeo Kings—Colin Linden, Stephen Fearing and Tom Wilson—have invited some of their favourite fellow dudes to join them on duets, which means familiar faces like Bruce Cockburn, Buddy Miller and Rodney Crowell, but also relatively young pups like City and Colour, Jason Isbell, and Eric Church. Linden’s day job on the TV show Nashville helped him coerce the men of that show (a.k.a. to viewers as Deacon Claybourne, Will Montgomery, Avery Barkley, and Gunnar Scott) onto one track here. That’s one big sausage party.

To be fair, the Kings did court some Queens five years ago, on a similar star-studded duets album featuring Emmylou Harris, Lucinda Williams, Serena Ryder, Rosanne Cash and more. But if there’s a flaw here, it’s that same-sex duets—assuming they’re not romantically inclined, which is all but a safe bet in country music—don’t amount to more than a glorified role as a backing vocalist, either by the guest or by a Rodeo King taking a backseat. It’s also a strange concept for a group that was founded—a whopping 20 years ago now—on three men sharing songwriting and vocal duties in the first place.

Regardless, there are plenty of obvious highlights with this amount of talent involved. Raul Malo of the Mavericks is a joy to hear in any context, and Nick Lowe fits in so well that one suspects he might well sign for a full album as a fourth member; the same could be said of Jason Isbell. It sounds like Nashville house party for expat Canucks to which we’re all invited, and better hosts you couldn’t ask for. (Oct. 6)

Stream: “Live by the Song” feat. Rodney Crowell, “High Wire” feat. Raul Malo, “Secret of a Long Lasting Love” feat. Nick Lowe 

The Comet is Coming – Channel the Spirits (Leaf)

Who the hell is saxophonist Shabaka Hutchings? This fiery London player first crossed my radar as a member of Sons of Kemet, an award-winning jazz band with two albums under their belt, where he’s joined by two drummers and a tuba player. Here, he joins a former funk duo and ends up somewhere in outer space—not all that surprising, considering song titles like “Journey Through the Asteroid Belt,” and the fact they claim Sun Ra as a major influence (without ever trying to imitate him directly—that would be too obvious a move and counterintuitive to the spirit of the great bandleader). Indeed, Hutchings has recorded with the modern incarnation of the Sun Ra Arkestra, as well as Courtney Pine’s Jazz Warriors, the Heliocentrics and plenty more. Here, his saxophone journeys through some dubwise electronic filters, and his rhythm section delights in turning beats upside down, often at a propulsive tempo while Hutchings dips and glides above the tumult. Psychedelic, electronic jazz doesn’t come better than this. (Oct. 6)

Stream: “Space Carnival,” “Journey Through the Asteroid Belt,” “Cosmic Dust”

Craig David – Following My Intuition (Sony)

Who is Craig David? Not a household name here, but huge in his native Britain, David became a star in 2000 when he was 19 years old, with a uniquely British offshoot of R&B called “garage.” On these shores, he was long forgotten when he showed up on a track on Kaytranada’s 2016 Polaris Music Prize-winning album 99.9%; at home, he was already plotting a comeback, having released several singles in advance of this, his first album of original material in nine years (which also features that Kaytranada track, plus a new collaboration). One of those was an inspired reworking of Justin Bieber’s “Where Are Ü Now,” which David turned into a song called “16”—a number that references David’s age when he got his first break, the number of years since his 2000 debut, and the year of his (self-prophesied) comeback.

What a comeback it is: this album hit No. 1 in Britain, and it’s clear why: Following My Intuition is not only a reintroduction to a great vocal talent, but a tour de force of modern R&B songwriting and production. David cover almost all the bases: hip-hop and grime-influenced club tracks; modern British house music, the kind that drew Mary J. Blige to London for her best album in years; dancehall flavours; straight-up, stripped-down ballads like “Better With You” or “All We Needed,” produced by Dave Tozer, the man behind John Legend’s wedding classic “All of Me.”

Following My Intuition is either the result of Craig David, having nothing to lose, taking his title’s advice; or maybe it’s all cold calculation, aiming to please any many people as possible. Who cares? For a man who hasn’t had a hit on this side of the ocean in 14 years, it’s clearly working for him. (Oct. 13)

Stream: “16,” “One More Time,” “Louder Than Words”

Fantastic Negrito – The Last Days of Oakland (Believe Digital)

The only unfamiliar name on the Blackie and the Rodeo Kings’ new album was someone calling himself Fantastic Negrito. What’s this all about? The man born Xavier Dphrepaulezz is a late bloomer of sorts; the multi-instrumentalist had a kick at the can with a major label deal as a solo artist in the 1990s, which was derailed in a near-fatal car accident that put him in a coma. It took him years to recover his guitar skills, and when he did, the blues man Fantastic Negrito was born. A resident of Oakland, Calif., which is now heavily gentrified now that next-door San Francisco has been priced into oblivion, Mr. Negrito has plenty of reason to sing the blues as he witnesses socioeconomic calamity engulfing his neighbourhood. The Last Days of Oakland is very much a 21^st-century blues album: all the traditional signposts are there, with nods to the genre’s evolution over the last 100 years, but there’s no questioning in which year it was recorded. There are (thankfully) no show-offy guitar moments, but Dphrepaulezz has a, well, fantastic voice, particularly his range, from a scowling growl to a glorious falsetto. (Oct. 6)

Stream: “Working Poor,” “In the Pines,” “Lost in the Crowd”

July Talk – Touch (Sleepless)

More of the same, but better. If you’ve tuned into rock radio in the past five years, you’ve heard the hits from Toronto band July Talk’s 2011 debut album. As it picked up steam around the world, the band kept putting off the follow-up. Good on them: nothing about Touch sounds rushed or green; these songs were no doubt road-tested long before they perfected them in the studio. Nothing here departs from the band’s formula: crunchy, stomping guitar rock with co-ed lead singers, one gruff and one lovely. They harmonize and play off each other more here than they did on the debut, and to far greater effect. Tanya Tagaq shows up to help provide rhythm on “Beck and Call,” and there’s a lyrical nod to the police brutality of “starlight tours” and MMIW on “Jesus Said So.” July Talk might come across as a feel-good, visceral party band, but there’s more depth to them than that, and Touch is easily as good as mainstream rock gets in this country in 2016. (Oct. 20)

Stream: “Push and Pull,” “Strange Habit,” “Jesus Said So”

John K. Samson – Winter Wheat (Anti)

The Weakerthans’ John K. Samson has emerged from his standard four-year hibernation period with his second solo album (albeit one that features 2/3 of his former bandmates). There’s a reason his fans are willing to wait so long for new material: because it’s always worth it. As always, every track here is a short story unto itself, populated by characters at crossroads in life—including, in an unusual twist for Samson, characters that could be perceived as autobiographical, namely aging punks reflecting on how those good old days might not have been so hot after all.

Samson’s sparse new musical environs suit his songs better than the oft-raging rock band he formerly fronted; full focus is on the lyrics, while a folkie, laid-back Neil Young vibe does its best to stay out of the way. On the few tracks where the tempo picks up, they’re driven entirely by acoustic guitars.

Samson has few peers as a lyricist: Gord Downie, Neko Case are in the same class, though all of course have their own unique style. Samson’s commitment to the simplicity of melodic folk structure, much like Leonard Cohen’s, makes his prose that much more inviting, drawing you further into the lives he chooses to illuminate.

John K. Samson has never made a bad record, and he sure isn’t going to start now. (Oct. 20)

Stream: “Select All Delete,” “Winter Wheat,” “Oldest Oak at Brookside”

Solange – A Seat at the Table (Sony)

Solange Knowles is no one’s little sister anymore. Technically, of course, she’s the younger sibling of Beyoncé, but after Solange’s third album—her first full-length in eight years, and her first new music since her breakthrough 2012 EP True—landed at No. 1 on Billboard the week of its release, it’s clear that her own work stands in no one’s shadow.

There are plenty of top chefs in this kitchen—Rafael Saddiq, Q-Tip, Dirty Projectors’ Dave Longstreth, members of TV on the Radio and Vampire Weekend, with cameos from Lil Wayne, Andre 3000 and Kelela—but Solange’s musical vision is consistent throughout, somewhere between the abstraction of FKA Twigs, the hippie neo-soul of Erykah Badu and the deconstructionist pop of Santigold. In an odd Montreal twist, there are also contributions here from now-defunct confessional electro duo Majical Cloudz and eccentric songwriter Sean Michael Savage—Solange has obviously been crashing some Pop Montreal after-hours loft parties.

What it’s not is a pop record: Solange doesn’t go for the heavy hooks, doesn’t want to teach the world to sing. She claims to have written the harmonies before many of the melodies. Much of A Seat at the Table is a meditative, modern iteration of R&B—not the darkness that consumes The Weeknd or Frank Ocean, but one that repurposes the slow jam for self-care anthems and affirmations of black pride. There are undoubtedly many political messages in these songs—made more obvious by the powerful interstitial interludes, featuring her parents and, um, Master P—but the music itself is so breezy, at times even featherweight, that it’s entirely possible the point of the record could go right over your head. Which would be a shame. But musical subtlety is Solange’s strong suit. (Oct. 13)

Stream Solange: “Cranes in the Sky,” “Don’t You Wait,” “Borderline (An Ode to Self Care)”

Tanya Tagaq – Retribution (Six Shooter)

Tanya Tagaq does not f--k around. The earth is dying, we are killing it, and goddammit, this is what it sounds like. That much can be inferred by the beauty and the horror evoked by the sounds created by Tagaq and her band, violinist Jesse Zubot and percussionist Jean Martin. But mostly, of course, Tagaq, whose singing voice is can be sweet and fragile—and whose throat singing voice can be even more terrifying that Linda Blair in The Exorcist.

Despite the power of her music, the Polaris Prize-winning musician doesn’t entirely trust the listener enough to get her message. Her press release states frankly: “This album is about rape. Rape of women, rape of the land, rape of children, despoiling of traditional lands without consent.” In the event you don’t visit her website, there’s a cover of Nirvana’s “Rape Me” that closes the album, just in case you weren’t sure what it is you’ve just heard. (“I’m not the only one,” she coos, no doubt as a nod to the MMIW issue she’s been illuminating for years now, but even more powerful post-Ghomeshi/Cosby/Trump.)

She also has introduced spoken word segments into her music, again underscoring the urgency of her environmentalist message. It’s not subtle, and it’s not necessary: her music speaks volumes on its own. Some guests are welcomed into the fold: most effective are Tuvan throat singer Radik Tyülyüsh, a natural cross-cultural collaboration, and Toronto’s Element Choir, whose orchestrated shrieks and howls have often accompanied Tagaq’s Toronto shows, including performances at the Polaris gala and at Massey Hall. Shad shows up as well.

Sadly, still no sign of a dream jam with Diamanda Galas. Next time. (Oct. 20)

Stream: "Aorta," "Retribution," "Summoning"

Donovan Woods – They Are Going Away (Meant Well)

Toronto singer-songwriter Woods, who makes his living as a writer in Nashville when he’s not performing his own songs, made plenty of new fans with his breakthrough album earlier this year, Hard Settle Ain’t Troubled. That 10-song album was full of perfectly miniature narratives and character studies; one of the many great things about it is that there was no fat. What’s even greater about it, it turns out, is that Woods left some even better songs on the cutting room floor, which now surface on this four-song EP. “What They Mean (When They Say Crazy)” sounds like an instant classic: why hasn’t some top 40 country artist glossed this up and landed it on the charts already? (Oct. 13)

Stream: The whole thing. It’s four songs. 

Bidiniband, John K. Samson

John K. Samson – Provincial (Anti)

Bidiniband – In the Rock Hall (Pheromone)

If Canadian rock had men of letters, Dave Bidini and John K. Samson would be two-thirds of a triumvirate alongside Gord Downie. Bidini, of course, is the author of 10 books about music and hockey (his latest, Writing Gordon Lightfoot, is one of his best), and for over 25 years he was a principal songwriter in the Rheostatics, arguably the most creative Canadian rock band of the ’90s. Samson is the barely prolific songwriter at the core of the Weakerthans, who with only four albums in the past 14 years became one of Canada’s most beloved bands, primarily on the strength of Samson’s prose (which he just collected into his first book, Lyrics and Poems 1997-2012).

Both men have always excelled at setting unlikely characters and situations inside compelling and moving songs. Until recently, they’ve always had help from sympathetic bandmates with whom they grew up, musicians who knew instinctively how to cast every quirky quote. Both men’s solo careers challenge them to think outside the box and make full use of new creative opportunities.

Granted, both had wide leeway before: Samson’s pop-punk bandmates have never stopped him from reciting poetry about retired NHL goalies over a detuned banjo and scraped percussion; the Rheostatics’ best and worst trait was that they were capable of and willing to try anything, making them the Canadian equivalent of equally influential and misunderstood American cult bands like the Minutemen and Camper Van Beethoven.

So what are these two bards up to now?

This is Bidiniband’s second album, so they have the upper hand. The debut, 2009’s The Land is Wild, seemed more like Bidini’s non-fiction writing hurriedly set to music—songs to be played at in-store appearances in between reading passages from his books. Here, his seasoned backing trio have been whipped into shape by regular gigging, to the point where they’re almost as sympathetic as the Rheostatics were to Bidini’s nuances. They obviously share his love of Devo, XTC, The Who and Max Webster, elements that were a small part of the Rheostatics’ avalanche of influences, but are brought to the fore here. And not in an imitative way, either; Bidiniband sounds most like, well Dave Bidini.

In fact, In the Rock Hall sounds far better than any record from the last 10 years of the Rheostatics’ discography, because this band knows how to push Bidini, and he’s more than willing to push back. There’s an explosive, though good-natured, musical tension at work here—largely the work of incredibly elastic guitarist Paul Linklater—watching these men throw endless curveballs at each other before uniting over three simple power chords and four-part harmony in a chorus (Bidini is singing better than he ever has). This is most evident on a recasting of the 1994 Rheos song “Earth,” which Bidiniband rescues from the bloated prog-rock mess of the original and transforms into a driving stadium-rock anthem. Mind you, Bidiniband has its own prog-rock mess in the form of “Eunioa,” a 10-minute adaptation of Christian Bök’s book of poetry that will really only appeal to anyone who understands what a “univocal lipogram” is.

There’s a nautical theme throughout—though there’s no reason for a native English speaker to write a song with the phrase “Big Men Go Fast on the Water” as a chorus (unless this originates as an odd translation of an Aboriginal name). Obvious novelty songs like “Popcorn” and “The Best Thing About the ’80s Was You” sound more like well-produced bar-band set-fillers than anything else—but hey, so do most of the Black Eyed Peas’ greatest hits, and (much to my chagrin) these earworms are just as catchy, if not more so, and not as dumb.

The performances—as well as the production from longtime partner in crime Michael Philip Wojewoda—outshine many of the actual songs, most of which are a baffling series of seemingly non-sequitur images and phrases. (There’s also a queer fondness for the word “tits.”) “I Wanna Go to Yemen,” Bidini sings—but why? “I’ve been waiting all this time to shine a light.” Is this a song about the Arab Spring? Doesn’t sound like it. And: “I want to see your face, eyeliner and burka” doesn’t make any sense when you realize that with a burka you don’t see any part of the face, never mind eyeliner. And why are there Burmese police shooting fishermen in a song also about a “two-bit Neil Young rip-off attack”? No matter: that latter track, “Last of the Dead Wrong Things,” is one of the most fantastic four minutes of visceral rock’n’roll Bidini has ever recorded. (Hear it here.)

And so Bidiniband’s literacy is not so much lyrical as it is musical; the real thrills here are listening to Linklater’s persistent fretboard wizardry, the throbbing, pummelling yet soulful grooves of the rhythm section of ex-Rheo Don Kerr and bassist Doug Friesen, and Bidini’s own underrated rhythm guitar skills. (Here’s your next bar argument: is there any essential rock’n’roll instrument more undervalued than rhythm guitarists? They don’t even get their own set of jokes.)

On John K. Samson’s solo album, his lyrics are the sole focus of attention; the accompanying music is mere background. He’s a prose writer first and foremost; every image and phrase is pondered over until it’s just perfect, yet there is no laboriousness heard in any single lyric. Though the ever-modest Samson will tell you that his vocal range and guitar skills are limited—hey, so is Leonard Cohen’s—he writes tiny perfect melodies and enlists trusted collaborators to fill in all the blanks.

Here, producer Paul Aucoin (Hylozoists, Cuff the Duke) casts Samson solo against just a horn section, in folk-country modes, as a piano balladeer, and—less successfully—in situations not unlike the Weakerthans. Those latter tracks are the only times when the otherwise impeccable Provincial manages to stumble. Even though the hired guns are no slouches (including Bidiniband bassist Doug Friesen and Constantines drummer Doug MacGregor), Samson already fronts an incredible rock band—anything else is going to sound second-rate. His solo work should stand further apart.

On the first single “When I Write My Master’s Thesis,” Samson steps into self-parody: any songwriter beloved by legions of English grad students is probably tempted to write a title like that all the time, but I’m not sure even Colin Meloy (Decemberists) would get away with that. Samson’s most successful narratives here are much better off set to delicately arranged downers like “The Last And,” “Stop Error,” or (a typical Samson title) “Letter in Icelandic from the Ninette San.”

As Samson sounds older (or, more accurately, his age), Bidini sounds more youthful; both promise their fans even bolder moves in the future.

Bidiniband's Toronto release show is this Saturday, January 28, at the Dakota Tavern in Toronto, 7 p.m. More dates are here.

John K. Samson was just in Toronto; Chromewaves wrote about it here. His North American tour begins on March 7 at the Grad Club in Kingston.