Showing posts with label John Southworth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Southworth. Show all posts

Friday, January 28, 2011

Dec '10 & Jan '11 reviews

The following reviews ran in the Kitchener-Waterloo Record and Guelph Mercury in December 2010 and January 2011.

Bonjay – Broughtupsy (Mysteries of Sound)


Sometimes it pays not to rush your debut. Bonjay got no shortage of hype when they first arrived in Toronto from Ottawa, thanks to the powerful voice and undeniable stage presence of singer Alanna Stewart and the beats by DJ Pho. That was over three years ago, but no amount of anticipation and praise managed to rush them into releasing their first proper EP until now. And by waiting, they outlasted the remnants of electroclash that they were slotted into at the beginning (like their peers Thunderheist, who turned out to be little more than a really exciting one-night stand). Bonjay also developed their songwriting; the highlights of their early shows were their covers of TV on the Radio’s “Staring at the Sun” and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ “Maps.” Here, they’re tapping into Caribbean rhythms run through modern electronic filters, with Stuart’s vocals alternating between seductive and soaring, always filled with confidence and bravado that never descends into showboating. Stuart’s range and command of her voice makes her a class act through and through, like a 21st century West Indian Annie Lennox. The five songs on Broughtupsy are worth the wait; here’s hoping they can build on this sooner than later. (Dec. 9)


Download: “Stutter,” “Frawdulent,” “Creepin’”


Braids – Native Speaker (Flemish Eye)


Smack dab in the middle of Hillside weekend last summer, after countless folk, rock and country acts, a young band from Montreal via Calgary took the stage in the middle of the afternoon. At a normal show in a club, they might not have stood out so much, but that day Braids was such a delightfully weird relief to the rest of the festival’s lineup that they were one of the weekend’s highlights for this seen-it-all writer.


Mind you, we have seen some of this before, but not for a long time; Braids’ closest comparison points are the Sugarcubes and the Cocteau Twins, both of whom peaked 20 years ago before fizzing out forevermore. No one in the band is over 21, however; Animal Collective is their preferred reference point, and they manage to outshine that overrated band on almost every level. Singer Raphaelle Standell-Preston is far more engaging and less yelp-y than the likes of Avey Tare and his imitators, while her bandmates instrumentation avoids any traditional guitar sounds or cliché keyboard patches.


The music is propulsive and bright, but far removed from any pop music convention. All of this makes Braids a love/hate sort of band, but they’re one of the most creative new bands on the Canadian landscape in 2011, and their immersion in Montreal’s ever-fertile community of weirdoes promises to make these high school friends even better in the future. (Jan. 13)


Download: “Lemonade,” “Lammicken,” “Same Mum”


Brandt Brauer Frick – You Make Me Real (!K7)


Making techno music on live instruments isn’t new; Ontario alone boasts two bands who have done it very well, and very differently: The New Deal and Holy Fuck. While those bands focused on the more visceral elements of house music and psychedelic rock, respectively, Brandt Brauer and Frick is a German trio who are more academic in their approach, and, fitting in with the aesthetic of German electronic music of the last 15 years, much more likely to sound crisp and clean and smooth out any rough edges.


Brandt Brauer and Frick—a pianist, a bassist and a percussionist—claim a background in classical composition and they’re big fans of Steve Reich. So while they’re ultimately aiming for a dance floor, it’s obviously not their home. Prepared pianos, Wurlitzers, tympani and the clicks of the bass strings are all made to sound otherworldly and electronic, while traditional piano provides most of the riffs.


It’s all more interesting in concept and execution than it is a solid album, albeit a promising one. Before its release, Brandt Brauer and Frick were voted one of the top five audience favourites at the 2010 Mutek Festival in Montreal; no doubt much of the thrill is seeing them pull this off live, as this YouTube clip for “Bop” (with 11 musicians involved) easily demonstrates. (Jan. 13)


Download: “Teufelsleiter,” “Bop,” “You Make Me Real”


Come and Get It: The Best of Apple Records – Various Artists (EMI)


So the Beatles are now on iTunes—so what? Was anyone really waiting by now? Instead, turn your attention to this gem of a collection, from the archives of the Beatles’ vanity label, Apple Records, which ran from 1968 to 1972. Most of the artists here were either produced by Beatles, feature Beatles performing, or are covers of Beatles songs. Only the latter category stumbles: especially an identical version of “Golden Slumbers/Carry That Weight” by the band Trash (and released the same week as the Beatles’ version on Abbey Road), or a terrible reggae version of “Give Peace a Chance” (by Hot Chocolate Band, of “You Sexy Thing” fame).


Otherwise, it’s a wonderfully mixed bag of weirdoes (Chris Hodge, Brute Force), forgotten pop classics (Badfinger, Mary Hopkin’s “Those Were the Days”), and incongruous indulgences in other genres (Cajun, brass band music, Indian pop). Almost everything has the Beatles’ touch to it—sonically, if nothing else. There’s never a dull moment. Except for maybe James Taylor. (Dec. 9)


Download: Mary Hopkin – “Those Were the Days”; Badfinger – “Day After Day”; Black Dyke Mills Band – “Thingumybob “


The Decemberists - The King is Dead (EMI)


What started out as a folksy, somewhat fey band performing songs about characters and scenarios far removed from modern life evolved had into a prog-rock monster with heavy metal flourishes, heard on 2009’s sprawling The Hazards of Love, which proved to be the Decemberists' most divisive album yet.

On this, their sixth album, frontman Colin Meloy retreats and writes a series of four-minute pop songs that are remarkable not only for their economy—Meloy describes it as “an exercise in restraint”—but how he still refuses to dumb it down; these are complex as anything the Decemberists have ever done, but they pack a far greater punch as pop songs.


Meloy says he was inspired in part by hearing the reissue of R.E.M.’s
Reckoning album, and it’s not hard to pick out some similarities (the fact that Peter Buck plays guitar on three tracks doesn’t hurt). It’s part of an overall Americana feel, which is a bit unusual for this group of Anglophiles; other than the Celtic sound of “Rox in the Box” and the nod to the Smiths’ Queen is Dead in the album title, this aims straight at the heart of American music, with traces of Tom Petty, Bruce Springsteen, and plenty of country music—Gillian Welch provides perfect backing vocals on “Down By the Water,” and the album closes with weeping pedal steel on “Dear Avery.”

Aside from surface aesthetics,
The King is Dead manages to be the Decemberists’ most accomplished album, merging the muscle of its recent work with the folksy charm of their earliest records. And Meloy is in top form, as a melodicist and lyricist. He may use the phrase “panoply of song” to describe a lover walking in a room, it more than describes The King is Dead as well. (Jan. 20)

Download: “Rox in the Box,” “January Hymn,” “Down by the Water”


K.C. Accidental – Captured Anthems for an Empty Bathtub / Anthems for the Could’ve Been Pills (Arts and Crafts)


Broken Social Scene had a fantastic 2010, with a powerhouse new record, a concert film, and an acclaimed live show. Here, however, is a reissue of the band that sparked the genesis of Broken Social Scene, and, if nothing else, it proves how far they’ve come.


K.C. Accidental was a bedroom-recording collaboration between Kevin Drew and Charles Spearin, with contributions from drummer Justin Peroff and Metric’s James Shaw; when Brendan Canning and others were added, it evolved into Broken Social Scene. But listening to these two albums again now (packaged together), it’s mostly notable for how loose and nebulous the project was.


There are barely any vocals or much songwriting to be found—which would be fine if each instrumental track wasn’t little more than a meandering jam, and not a particularly interesting one, either, unless you happened to be in the room at the time. Later on, their arrangement skills and production quality would be able to elevate even the slightest material, but these merely sound like sketches with no one carrying the weight.


It sounds like guys who probably had amazing record collections, but were only beginning to process how to put it all together. This was music made for guys exactly like themselves, and today it remains for serious collectors only. (Jan. 13)


Download: “Anoxeric He-Man,” “Silverfish Eyelashes,” “Them (Pop Song #3333)”


Gabe Levine – Long Spun Thread (independent)


What would happen if Phillip Glass produced a Bruce Cockburn album? Toronto-via-Montreal songwriter Gabe Levine has the answer. The vocal resemblance to Cockburn is striking, and the largely acoustic songs wouldn’t sound that out of place on any of the Canadian legend’s ’70s recordings. And yet on most of the tracks here—with help from some of Toronto’s finest musicians, including Sandro Perri and members of Timber Timbre, Feuermusik and Steamboat—there is a distinct pulse and reliance on repetitive arpeggios (largely on the keyboards provided by Levine’s brother Jesse) that sets Long Spun Thread apart from dozens of other singer/songwriter records. That said, Levine’s past, as a member of alt-country and experimental klezmer bands on Montreal’s Constellation Records, isn’t noticeable here at all; this is a pleasant, slightly tropical take on Canadian folk (check the calypso of “Nesting Bird”) by a musician making the most conventional, and to date the most rewarding, music of his career. (Jan. 6)

Download: “Believe Me,” “Bitter Wine,” “Honey All the Way Down”



Kate and Anna McGarrigle – Oddities (independent)


Kate McGarrigle passed away a year ago, and there’s no better way to celebrate her life than dipping into this collection of outtakes assembled by her sister, Anna. Despite their stature and fan base, the McGarrigles were never terribly prolific—11 albums over 35 years—and some of this material appeared in different versions elsewhere, notably the four songs by turn-of-the-century American songwriter Stephen Foster that open the album (the sisters had proposed scoring a biopic of him at one point). But there are also originals, like the surprisingly rollicking “As Fast as My Feet,” and the well-loved cover of “The Log Driver’s Waltz,” which was featured in an NFB short much-beloved by anyone who attended elementary school in the late ’70s and early ’80s.


Most haunting, however, is a haunting, lo-fi recording of “A La Claire Fontaine,” an old French folksong that the sisters would always close their encores with. Why it never appeared on a proper album before is a mystery; why it only exists here, in a ghostly and chilling version recorded in 1976 at McGill with only Chaim Tannenbaum’s harmonica and group harmonies from family and friends, we can only guess. It’s a song Kate’s son Rufus Wainwright has also performed live many times, and it’s fitting that it finally appears here—amidst many other treasures that longtime fans and newcomers will cherish. (Jan. 6)


Download: “The Log Driver’s Waltz,” “As Fast as My Feet,” “A La Claire Fontaine”


More or Les – Brunch With a Vengeance (Fuzzy Logic)

And you thought Shad was nerdy? There is no topic too dorky for Toronto MC More or Les, who spends entire songs complaining about the state of public toilets (“The Bathroom Song”), bad fashion (“Busted Gear”), and a 50-year-old man picking his nose on public transit (“Gold Digger Part 3”). But don’t let his often lightweight subject matter distract you from his MC skills and verbal dexterity, both in his flow and as a storyteller. The music is a delightful throwback to 1990 East Coast hip-hop, the playful, occasionally jazzy grooves making a perfect match for More or Les’s rhymes. (When he’s not performing his own material, he hosts a monthly old-school Hip-Hop Karaoke event in Toronto.) Les shares the spotlight with several up and coming Toronto MCs, and British beat specialists The Herbaliser pay him back for guesting on their last studio album by backing him up on “A Lotta Talk.” It’s his bottomless charisma, however, that ties it all together. (Jan. 20)


Download: "Get Back," "Busted Gear (feat. Ambition and the Wordburglar)," "A Lotta Talk (feat. the Herbaliser)"


Nicki Minaj – Pink Island (Universal)


Nicki Minaj is this year’s Drake—o wait, is Drake still this year’s Drake? Or is that so six months ago now? Like Drake, Minaj made her name with mix tapes and guest appearances on high-profile singles by some of the biggest heavyweight MCs in hip-hop—most notably on Kanye West’s single “Monster.” And now, with her debut album, she almost (stress: almost) surpassed the wave of hype that greeted West’s own album this same month. Toronto’s Now magazine called her the “most hyped new MC in hip-hop history”—a phrase that when seen in the headline of a cover story is self-fulfilling, at the very least.


Does she deliver? Minaj is a monstrous MC, when she tries: she has the foul mouth of Lil Kim, the quivering vibrato of Ol’ Dirty Bastard (whom she quotes directly on “Roman’s Revenge”), and she revels in role-playing and adopting various accents. She easily goes head to head with Eminem on the aforementioned “Roman’s Revenge”; he tries to keep up by upping his shock jock shtick, culminating with a line about bondage and golden showers (something that’s not out of character in Minaj’s own raps, as on “Did It On ’Em”).


But if Minaj comes out swinging on the opening three tracks, she spends much of the rest of the album sounding like a watered down Lady Gaga or Robyn, with a series of glossy pop songs that, in some cases, come across like a Europop Sarah McLachlan. Lost in a sea of cheese, where’s that tough street chick now? By the time the shameless sample of the Buggles’ “Video Killed the Radio Star” dominates the single “Check It Out,” Nicki Minaj sounds one step away from the Black-Eyed Peas—whose will.i.am produced that track, naturally.


More power to her for not sticking to one thing, but the galling thing is that Minaj’s formula sounds remarkably familiar. The singer/MC straddling bouncy pop and hardcore hip-hop who got a major career boost from Kanye West? Could be Kid Sister, whose 2009 debut album scored well with critics but was nowhere near the meteoric sensation that Minaj is—and Kid Sister did all of this far, far better. (Dec. 9)


Download: “Here I Am,” “I’m the Best,” “Roman’s Revenge”



No Joy – Ghost Blonde (Mexican Summer)


Montreal’s No Joy are riding the wave of adulation from hot California band Best Coast; that group’s singer, Beth Cosentino, has hailed No Joy as her favourite new band and got them signed to the Mexican Summer label, and they’re now touring together. While the appeal of Best Coast is easy to understand—’50s-style melodies set to fuzzy, lo-fi guitar rock with heavy, heavy reverb, a Californian haze lingering overhead, and dorky bubblegum lyrics—No Joy taps a similar aesthetic, only without the sing-song melodic approach. And hence rarely has a recent band lived up to its name the way No Joy does.


Much of
Ghost Blonde merely drifts along: the vocals are indistinguishable, the guitars sound like a mid-level ’90s grunge band run through plenty of reverb, to no particular effect. Much of this kind of music—brought back to life in recent years by the likes of the Vivian Girls, the Dum Dum Girls, and to some degree the Raveonettes—relies on a sweetness and innocence, a pining for days past, with a darkness lurking underneath. In the case of the unfortunately named No Joy, the only thing they seem to be nostalgic for is the time back when they were teenagers still trying to figure out how to be in a band. (Jan. 20)

Download: “Pacific Pride,” “Hawaii,” “You Girls Smoke Cigarettes?”





Querkus – Spaces Between the Leaves Make Way for the Stars (independent)


Querkus describe themselves as “electro art pop noir from the Canadian Prairies”—certainly there is truth in advertising. Singer and keyboardist Karen Asmundson shows off her classical training and love of sombre songs with the help of guitarist Edgar Ozolins. Like many piano chanteuses, Asmundson can lay the affect on fairly thick, but it’s well-suited to the material, which is dramatic by nature. After all, this is a duo who formed after attending an event celebrating David Lynch’s 60th birthday. It’s a bit overcooked, however; the album was four years in the making, and it shows. (Jan. 20)


Download: “Half Acid Lee,” “There Will Always Be,” “I’m Gonna Break You”


John Southworth – Human Cry (Barnyard)


Unheralded Toronto singer/songwriter John Southworth unleashed one of the freakiest albums of 2009, a power pop album named after a subatomic particle accelerator (Mama Tevatron), with suitably fantastical lyrics and driven by rusty old keyboards. This year, Southworth has decided to strip down and play it straight—sort of.


Human Cry was inspired, says Southworth, by a friend telling him that all singing was a form of crying. The album is not an entirely sad sack affair—despite titles like “River of Tears in Everyone,” “Sadness Came Back,” and “Day of the Dead”—but Southworth treads mostly in torch song territory, with gentle acoustic touches from backing band the South Seas (seasoned jazz players Andrew Downing, Justin Haynes and Jean Martin). Backing vocalists Daniela Gesundheit (Snowblink) and Felicity Williams (Thomas, Broken Social Scene) lend a Leonard Cohen-esque air to the recording. Significantly, Southworth’s own voice adapts remarkably well: he sounds much more mature here, his often-boyish voice suddenly rich and resonant, especially on “Tender Mountain Eyes.”


Many people don’t know what to make of John Southworth, but that should change here: there’s nothing mysterious about the simple magic at the core of Human Cry. (Dec. 16)


Download: “River of Tears in Everyone,” “The Kiss,” “Precious Metals”


Suuns – Zeroes QC (Secretly Canadian)


This Montreal band purposely waited three years before recording their debut album. It’s not hard to hear why: Suuns’ music is not about pop hooks—although it occasionally has those—it is about performance. And by amassing three years of live experience behind them, Zeroes QC sounds all the better for it. Suuns love dark, mysterious and moody sounds, whether those are created by massive washes of guitar or entirely electronically. At times they can sound like the distorted pop of The Jesus and Mary Chain, the improv electro dance rhythms of Holy Fuck, the propulsive tension of Clinic, or even the weirder side of Beck (singer Ben Shemie shares a vocal resemblance). But if some of their influences may be easy to spot, Suuns don’t stay in one spot for very long, making Zeroes QC much more rewarding than most rock bands who pick one particular strain of noisy experimental dance music and milk it for an entire album. (Dec. 16)


Download: “Arena,” “Gaze,” “Up Past the Nursery”



Frederick Squire – March 12 (Blue Fog)


Fred Squire makes it sound easy. In the liner notes to this, his debut solo album, he lists the equipment used to make this home recording, including: “Realistic cassette recorder, Maxell high-bias cassette tape, leggings wrapped around a bent coat-hangar frame” and the odd piece of high-end gear from Audio Technica or Sennheiser. And while the bland cover image is of a blank manila envelope against some basement rec-room panelling, the music inside is rich and warm and intimate: the sparseness and haunting quality of ’90s indie singer/songwriters (Smog, early Elliot Smith) with the production values of the best ’70s singer/songwriter records by the likes of Bob Dylan and Tom Waits that Squire also draws inspiration from.


Squire can be a deeply personal songwriter; the verses in the track “Old Times Past New Times” detail a litany of events and non-events in the life of a narrator who lives his life “in only two blocks of a seven-and-a-half-block town”; the chorus simply repeats the line “decisions I have made.” Much of March 12 avoids the confessional, however; “It’s All in the Water” aims to be a unifying gospel song, despite its hushed, low-key delivery.


March 12 proves that it’s high time this Sackville, New Brunswick songwriter made a solo statement: he’s spent the last five years as one half of scrappy indie rock duo Shotgun and Jaybird, appeared with Julie Doiron on the Mt. Eerie album Lost Wisdom, and again with Doiron and Attack in Black’s Daniel Romano as simply Daniel, Fred and Julie. There are no favours called in here, however; Squire plays everything himself, and sings layers of stacked harmonies that Daniel Lanois would be proud of. There are times, in fact, when one is reminded of the missed opportunities of the recent Lanois/Neil Young collaboration; though March 12 and Le Noise bear little resemblance to each other, Squire successfully navigates traditional folk music and roads less travelled, guaranteed to appeal to both Young’s generation and, well, the young generation—and anyone in between who’s ever had a date with 3 a.m. existential angst and old country records. (Jan. 6)


Download: “Old Times Past New Times,” “Pretty Bird,” “The Future of Tradition”



Victoire – Cathedral City (New Amsterdam)


Composer Missy Mazzoli doesn’t wait around for commissions from Carnegie Hall, the Whitney Museum of Art, or for her work to be performed by the Kronos Quartet, the New York City Opera and many more, or for teaching gigs in composition at Yale—although all of those accomplishments already appear on her resumé. Instead, she writes for and performs with Victoire, a New York City quintet with two keyboards, clarinet, violin and double bass, along with a healthy dose of electronics and samples. Mazzoli’s work is largely textural and abstract, at times owing more to experimental electronic dance music than classical tradition—despite the absence of percussion. (Jan. 6)


Download: “Like a Miracle,” “The Diver,” “I Am Coming For My Things”



Joey Wright – Hatch (Black Hen)

Talented instrumentalist Joey Wright is an in-demand session player, having been hired to tour with Sarah Harmer and Amy Millan, and he’s released two previous albums of acoustic music, one of which nabbed him a Juno Award. Four years later, Wright steps up to the mic and introduces vocals to the mix, but he also steps away from traditional folk. Here, he creates dreamy pop music and ragged, slightly psychedelic rock instead. He still draws from bluegrass, folk and country, but the textures are much richer, thanks in part to lap steel player Christine Bougie and a rhythm section borrowed from Stars (Evan Cranley, Pat McGee). His longtime partner Jenny Whiteley co-writes two songs and sings back-up vocals. Where his previous work sounded like an instrumentalist flexing his muscle, the songs here are much more solid, and not just because many of them feature his soft, crooning vocals. Hatch is a low-key, late-night gem that should shine a light on Wright as more than merely a stringmaster. (Jan. 13)


Download: “The Scar,” “Expectations Are the Killer,” “Hives”


Friday, September 17, 2010

Polaris preview 2010 pt 2

Part one of this Polaris discussion is here.
The Polaris Prize will be awarded on Monday, Sept. 20.
Link The remaining five nominees are:

Owen Pallett – Heartland (For Great Justice)

The album:
I’m tired of anyone with a string section getting comparisons to classical composers. Because frankly, Owen Pallett is one of the only composers making some semblance of pop music who writes the kind of melodies and orchestrations that successfully blend classical forms, pop melodicism and modern arrangements. There are straight-up songs here that need no explanation—“Lewis Takes Off His Shirt” being the obvious one—but it’s tracks like “The Great Elsewhere,” with its seemingly spastic keyboards, skittering and stuttering electronic percussion, stabbing strings and gentle, lilting melody that sum up most of Heartland’s strengths. In terms of compositional ambition in 2010, I don’t see anything in Canada or anywhere else that approaches this album’s scope. For that reason alone I’m ready to write Pallett another Polaris cheque.


The chances:
Fair. Like Caribou, Pallett has the previous Polaris winner curse on him; at this young stage in Polaris history, the chances of a repeat winner are slim. And not everyone—including the self-deprecating Pallett himself—thinks he has the vocal chops to pull this off. Arguably the whole project is too egghead-y and not visceral enough. But more than a few critics simply don’t buy into Pallett’s lyrical concept, which has something to do with a meta-narrative involving a 13th-century farmer in a story told by one Owen Pallett, who rises up and kills off his creator, the very same Owen Pallett. I think it’s a fascinating comment on free will, theology, role-playing games, power struggles and the role of fiction in general. Others would use Pallett’s least favourite adjective: pretentious. Which is an entirely inaccurate term, as Heartland is very much true to who Pallett is, and manages to meet his own lofty ambitions.



Radio Radio – Belmundo Regal (Bonsound)

The album: If there’s a dark horse this year, this is it. It’s also a testament to the growing power of the listserv to which Polaris jurors subscribe, where we champion albums we love and spam each others’ inboxes. It’s safe to say that this Acadian hip-hop group had zero profile in the rest of Canada until it began to be championed by a couple of jurors. And while Bonsound is a promotional powerhouse in Quebec, there’s no guarantee of a golden touch. The music, however, is merely okay. It is fun trying to decipher the deeply regional take on franglais, but (I’m only guessing here) there’s nothing terribly deep going on. Not that there has to be: the music is funky enough, a hip-hop-electro-pop hybrid with a bit of Southern bounce to it, and it’s pleasant enough one track at a time. But album of the year? This sounds like Bran Van 3000 b-sides at best.


The chances:
Slim. This is definitely the luckiest band on the list—in that sense, they’ve already won.



The Sadies – Darker Circles (Outside)

The album:
Like anyone else in southern Ontario, I love the Sadies and have seen them dozens of times, with one or two ecstatic experiences in there somewhere. And yet I never, if ever, put on one of their albums for my own listening pleasure. There’s good reason this album—their, um, umpteenth—is getting more than its usual share of attention. I was frankly worried when I heard they were working with Gary Louris of the Jayhawks—a man who, talented though he is, is not known for his grit or sense of adventure. (Side note: he did excellent work on another Torontonian album last year, Kirsten Jones’s The Mad Mile, though no one would accuse that of being adventurous or gritty.) But as he did with their last album, New Seasons, Louris clears away only a bit of the haze and otherwise helps the band define their textures a bit more clearly; on Darker Circles, they’ve definitely hit their stride in their studio work, both with each other and with Louris. Whether he whipped their songwriting into shape or whether they’re just naturally maturing is beside the point; one finally gets the sense that the Sadies believe in these songs, that they’re not just vehicles to get them on the road and perform.


The chances:
Good. Surely when a band that could be eligible for a lifetime achievement award makes an album this strong, it has to count for something.



Shad – TSOL (Black Box)

The album:
The best Canadian MC whose name doesn’t begin with K (although his last name does), Shad is hard to dislike: he’s warm, witty, and nerdier than thou. He’s also whip-smart and insightful when he wants to be, like on the haunting “At the Same Time,” but his metaphors can just as easily fall flat on their face (“Trying to listen to Jesus is hard as fake boobs”). Mostly, though, he’s full of good times and positivity, and uses his spotlight to spread the love and laugh at himself. The music rarely matches the dexterity of his lyrics, however; hopefully his continued success will attract stronger collaborators.


The chances:
Excellent. Shad surprised a lot of people with his last Polaris shortlisted album, The Old Prince, and many feel that this is his year—not to mention the fact that it might be time a hip-hop album took home the prize. On top of genuine love for TSOL, people also love Shad himself; his chances of riding a wave of goodwill to the top are better than strong. He splits his time between B.C. and Ontario, which would at least be a small dent in Central Canada’s stronghold on the prize so far.



Tegan and Sara – Sainthood (Universal)

The album:
I’ll admit to having dismissed this album when it came out; not because I disliked it particularly, but because it was a competent, commercially palatable pop record and the world has plenty of those—why should I care about this one? I listened with open ears, hoping for at least a conversion on the level of Metric’s Fantasies; instead, I cast it away. The single “Hell” crept up on me during many a grocery trip (where I’m always a captive audience); the other singles are just as strong, and there’s a good chance they could be giving Carl Newman a run for his money in another few years. Maybe if my stepkiddo was as enthralled with Tegan and Sara as she is with Billy Talent, I might have succumbed by now, due to sheer overexposure.


The chances:
Fair. Like the Sadies, they’ve been around a long time and their recorded output continues to improve; this may well be their best album yet (I have no idea; I haven’t followed them closely), which could tip some votes their way. But the same critics who won’t give Billy Talent the time of day are unlikely to give Tegan and Sara an objective listen.




The could've beens:


Schomberg Fair – Gospel (Hi Hat)

The album: Last year I dumped on Elliott Brood, and arguably Schomberg Fair are cut from the same cloth. Except that they’re awesome. The breakneck banjo songs are thrilling, but there's much more going on here than a hackneyed hoedown. Bassist Nathan Sidon is the most frog-voiced singer I've heard since Gabe Minnikin in the Guthries, but it totally works for him. I don't hear a lot of people putting soul into roots music these days—and by soul I don't mean R&B (though there is a strong gospel element here, hence the title, as well as the aptly titled oddball track “Motown Break”), but that indescribable "it" that gives certain bands undeniable chemistry and sets them apart from genre-fication. This band absolutely kicks my ass: the blistering shredding, the Christian guilt, the gutsy playing that's probably the most punk rock thing I've heard in Canada this year, the banjos, the rumbling baritone voice, and the ability to breathe life into hoary clichés like "Wayfaring Stranger."


Why it didn’t make the short list:
This band barely has a profile in its hometown of Toronto, never mind the rest of the country.


Souljazz Orchestra – Rising Sun (Strut)

The album: What began as a rather imitative second-rate Afrobeat band has grown up quickly, and Rising Sun is an intriguing and varied jazz album that happens to use some African instrumentation and grooves. It’s their first for an international label, and they’re more than ready for the spotlight. Keyboardist Pierre Chretien deserves top marks for tying it all together; tenor saxophonist Steve Patterson has plenty of fine performances here as well, particularly on the dreamy, spacy “Consecration,” which owes a debt to Alice Coltrane.


Why it didn’t make the short list:
World music? Jazz? Polaris has a long way to go. And fans of these genres rarely rally around a favourite, no doubt leading to an insane amount of vote-splitting.


South Rakkas Crew – The Stimulus Package (Mad Decent)

The album:
Polyglot pop and deconstructionist dancehall that draws from just about every dance music trend of the last 15 years. It’s wicked, wacky and wild party from beginning to end, full of booty bass that’s both abrasive and persuasive, and even the occasional auto-tuned vocal merely adds to the overall madness rather than a nauseating distraction. This came out on Diplo’s Mad Decent label, and it has much more in common with that scene than anything else going on in Canada. Indeed, the Crew themselves have lived in Orlando (?!) for over 10 years now, but coming from Brampton and Mississauga, their sound is definitely the sound of the modern, multicultural suburbs—suburbs barely recognizable to Arcade Fire.


Why it didn’t make the short list:
Because it’s a free mix tape, not a “real album,” the old world has a bit of trouble grasping the fact that this was not available in stores and therefore not legit. It also recycles a couple of “riddims,” in Jamaican parlance, which means four tracks here with the “double-up riddim” sound exactly the same except for the vocal—that doesn’t mean each individual one is less thrilling, however. But really, the main reason South Rakkas Crew didn’t make the shortlist is because not nearly enough people listen to David Dacks.


John Southworth – Mama Tevatron (Dead Daisy)

The album: John Southworth must be as sick as anyone by descriptors like “weird and wonderful” or, that classic kiss of death, “quirky.” But on Mama Tevatron this unique character not only shows off his songcraft at its best, but moves away from several of the stranger personas he’s inhabited in the past. Gone is the sweater-clad boyish man, gone is the weird blackface bluegrass phase; in its place is a space-age bachelor pad pop music that’s a strange hybrid of Esquivel, the Ramones and Dirty Mind-era Prince—that has to be heard to be believed. Nine of these 10 songs are pop perfection, both in their immediate appeal and the layers underneath. The final one, “Zulou,” could be Klaus Nomi covering Pink Floyd, as Southworth heads deeper and deeper into space.

Why it didn’t make the short list:
Southworth’s heyday—if he had one—was over 10 years ago, when both he and Hawksley Workman were starting out and were cut from the same cloth; their paths have since diverged considerably. Maybe people still have him pegged in that period, who knows. If so, they’re missing out.


Yukon Blonde – s/t (Nevado)
Zeus – Say Us (Arts and Crafts)


The albums:
I’m going to cheat and group these together—because I can barely tell them apart, and not just because they’re always neighbours at the bottom of any alphabetical list. They’re both full of bearded boys who love ’60s pop and ’70s guitar rock, and have the kind of chops that will come in handy when Paul McCartney needs a new pool of backing players. They’re both full of rich harmonies and harmonized guitar leads, and goddammit, they both write songs that are mere inches away from the greatness of their biggest influences. If I had to give the nod to one, it would be Zeus; though their lyrics are equally as inconsequential, they do avoid downright dorkiness, which Yukon Blonde is guilty of on occasion.


Why they didn’t make the short list:
Because no one else can tell them apart either, and most jurors likely reserved only one spot on their ballot for ’70s retro rock, meaning both of them (and Jason Collett, for that matter) suffered from vote-splitting. Just get together and form a supergroup already!

Monday, November 30, 2009

Nov 09 reviews

These reviews ran in the Kitchener-Waterloo Record and Guelph Mercury in November.




Devendra Banhart – What Will We Be? (Warner)

It’s an old trope to complain about an artist becoming less interesting with a major label leap. And yet in the case of Devendra Banhart—whose sixth album is his first for Warner—he now sounds creatively bankrupt and downright bored.

Banhart is a restless creative soul, whose toss-offs were always at least interesting. He consistently been inconsistent, either falling flat on his face with ridiculous lyrics and goofy hippie-isms, or—as he did on his last album—successfully jumping from Brazilian bossa nova to gospel-infused classic rock jams to doo-wop to reggae to psychedelic folk—all glued together with his wonderfully elastic voice.

Trace elements of those things are heard here, but it sounds like someone put Banhart on meds and inhibited his wilder urges; everything lopes along in a heroin haze, without any of the fantastical imagery or intoxicating melodies that Banhart used to excel at.

“I know I look high, but I’m just free dancing,” he sings, on one of this album’s otherwise passable songs. But rather than sounding unselfconscious, Banhart sounds like he’s being monitored closely in case he waves his freak folk flag too high. (K-W Record, November 12)




Bell Orchestre – Who Designs Nature’s How (Arts and Crafts)
Score! 20 Years of Merge Records: The Remixes – Various Artists (Merge)


Merge Records celebrated its 20th anniversary with a week-long festival, an oral history book, a subscription series of specially curated compilations, and a disc of cover versions, now caps off its year by surrendering the master tapes of some of its best-loved artists to remixers.

This fares better than the patchy covers comp released in the spring—after all, how badly can you miss the mark when you’re dealing with the original tracks? In some cases here they improve remarkably on the originals: Caribou remixing Polvo, +/- juicing up the Rosebuds, and Four Tet turning the naivete of Guv’ner into a techno chant. John McEntire takes one of the only weak moments from the last 10 years of Spoon’s discography, “The Ghost of You Lingers,” and replaces the insistent piano plunking with a lilting ambient techno breeze.

Others are far more faithful, or attempt to unnecessarily insert their vocals. The only serious disappointment—if only because of the lost potential—is Jason Forrest’s remix of Arcade Fire’s “No Cars Go.” It’s nowhere near as daring as his own work nor the possibilities buried in the dense mix of the original; it also doesn’t help that an early cover of this song by Canadian electronic band Vitamins for You already cast it in a more synth-y arrangement similar to that heard in the first half of this remix; meanwhile, the second half is Forrest’s remix is almost indistinguishable from the original.

Though it’s billed as a remix album, Bell Orchestre’s Who Designs Nature’s How seems more like a compilation of their favourite artists than reconfigurations of the rich source material heard on their 2009 masterpiece As Seen Through Windows.

Therefore Montreal sound sculptor Tim Hecker offers a piece that could well have been culled from his most recent album, An Imaginary Country; likewise, saxophonist Colin Stetson—who joined the band last year—delivers a solo saxophone performance that is as rhythmically repetitive, enchanting and muscular as his normal solo material … which it may well be, as the title of his track doesn’t resemble any Bell Orchestre composition.

U.K. dub master Mad Professor stretches out the title track with hazy textures and electronic effects, although remains largely faithful to the original song’s structure; Montreal’s veteran turntablist Kid Koala and new duo Deadly Stare (one half of which engineered Amon Tobin’s Foley Room, which had contributions from Bell Orchestre members) fare better toying with trace elements of two of Windows’ stronger tracks.

No one touches the original album’s astounding triumph, the track “Elephants”—because why mess with perfection? (K-W Record, November 19)




Blue Rodeo – The Things We Left Behind (Warner)

It’s high time Blue Rodeo kicked its own ass.

While they’ve never suffered as a live band, their studio output of at least the last 10 years has been less than inspiring. On this double album, however, the difference is both cosmetic and concrete: the production is warm, hazy and old school; strings, flutes and tympani make appearances on some of Greg Keelor’s trippier numbers. But more importantly, both Keelor and Jim Cuddy step back up as songwriters worthy of their Hall of Fame status.

Keelor showed considerable strength on his 2006 solo album Aphrodite Rose, so it’s Cuddy who is the surprise here. It can be argued that every ballad he’s ever written is entirely interchangeable, but that certainly can’t be said of this album’s “One Light Left in Heaven”—despite the slightly maudlin title, it’s one of Cuddy’s finest accomplishments in his 25 years as a songwriter. His rockers are no small shakes either; tracks like “One More Night” and “Arizona Dust” show off some swagger.

Though Keelor and Cuddy split the album’s 16 songs evenly, Keelor eats up more running time with long, expansive tracks; “Million Miles” draws on raga rock and the folkier side of Led Zeppelin, while the 10-minute “Venus Rising” is the album’s lone stinker. Both discs open with two of Keelor’s best brooders—the kind that sound like Neil Young produced by the Beatles—where the band’s vocal and instrumental arranging skills come into clear focus.

In between are plenty of songs that do what Blue Rodeo have always done best, and there’s little here that really rocks the boat. But after years of conceding their crown to bands like the Sadies and Cuff the Duke, it sounds like they’re ready to fight for it back. (K-W Record, November 12)




Dead Man’s Bones – s/t (Anti)

The official holiday is over, but every day is Halloween for Dead Man’s Bones. Every song on their debut album sounds like it was recorded in a haunted house, with ghoulish lead vocals, sparse guitars, primitive percussion, and a choir of ghostly children lurking in the background of almost every track. Much of the music is fragile and falling apart, which suits the rickety ride perfectly: if this was the least bit slick, it wouldn’t work at all.

Dead Man’s Bones is the duo of Zach Shields and Ryan Gosling, who play everything on the album whether they know how to or not, which adds an innocent amateurism to the atmosphere. Dead Man’s Bones revel in the naivete of ’50s rock’n’roll and ’90s lo-fi indie rock, with the children’s choir and cartoonish fright-night lyrics (“Werewolf Heart,” “My Body’s a Zombie For You”) adding a suitably bizarre element.

This is the kind of project that mainstream celebrity mags mock as a Hollywood actor (Gosling) slumming as a musician, but it’s unique and strange and beautifully broken in ways that exist outside any proper conceptions of pop culture. And as a weirdo art project that exists in its own world, it works wonderfully well. (K-W Record, November 5)




Fool’s Gold – s/t (Iamsound)

The name may be emblematic of the ersatz nature of this band, but Fool’s Gold doesn’t joke around. Ethiopian melodies, West African rhythms, and lyrics sung in Hebrew all melt together when played by a bunch of Los Angelenos whose only direct link to their influences is the fact that vocalist and bassist Luke Topp was born in Israel, hence the Hebrew. Otherwise everyone comes to the music as an outsider—not that you’d ever know, and not that you should care.

Guitarist Lewis Pesacov excels at clean highlife rhythms, dirty Malian blues, and fading into the background amidst the heavy percussion. He and his bandmates imitate existing African styles with excellence, but how they assemble them is entirely unorthodox. They’re not out to fit everything into a North American context—the way Vampire Weekend marries township jive with Velvet Underground/Violent Femmes innocence—and nor are they trying to pass themselves off as something they’re not. The choral refrain on “The World Is All There Is” could just as well be Aboriginal North American, African, or the Arcade Fire. The syncopated, swaying waltz of “Nadine” is otherworldly unto itself, with or without any specific cultural reference point.

Purists should stay away; everyone else should jump right in. (K-W Record, November 26)




Fuck Buttons – Tarot Sport (All Tomorrow’s Parties)

Even at its loudest and most intense, ’90s rave was too pretty, too pristine and not perverse enough to live up to its subversive reputation. That’s where Fuck Buttons come in, using white noise and distorted electronics to create nonetheless beautiful textures and slow-moving, cinematic melodies, set to chopped-up techno beats that certainly don’t guarantee a spot on the dance floor. Even when all hell breaks loose on a completely disorienting track like "Phantom Limb," a majestic mood still prevails.

Part of the credit can go to noted ’90s producer Andrew Weatherall (Two Lone Swordsmen, Sabres of Paradise), who helps beef up the Buttons’ sound considerably. “Olympians” sounds like it could be the theme for a 22nd century Chariots of Fire; closing track “Flight of the Feathered Serpent” breaks down in the middle of its 10-minute stretch into an extended African drum break before the eerie, Moby-meets-Morricone melody creeps back in.

Taken as a whole, however, Tarot Sports can be draining; this is a band best absorbed one epic track at a time. (K-W Record, November 26)




Bebel Gilberto – All in One (Verve)

Bebel Gilberto has erred on the safe side of bossa nova ever since her international debut, 2000’s Tanto Tempo, an album that found her working with interesting beatmakers and electronic musicians. All in One is the first album since to return to that experimentalism, although the slightly more abstract numbers are side by side with very middle-of-the-road, easy-listening route Gilberto has been most comfortable in. The laid back, velvety vocalist allows herself to surrender to groove on tracks like Carmen Miranda’s “Chica Chica Boom Chic,” a cover of Bob Marley’s “Sun is Shining” (produced by Dust Brother John King), and Stevie Wonder’s “The Real Thing,” where she’s backed up by the Dap-Kings. She’s suitably seductive on the sleepy ballads, which stand out when juxtaposed with the meatier tracks. All in One contains the best of what Gilberto can do, although one senses she could still push any one of these directions even further. (K-W Record, November 26)




Norah Jones – The Fall (Blue Note/EMI)

After over 50 albums in the last 30 years, The Fall can always be expected to reinvent themselves, and what better way than to title their new album Norah Jones. Oh wait, the Norah Jones album is called The Fall? Either way, surprises are still afoot.

No matter how huge her earlier successes were, The Fall may just as well be Norah Jones’s first real album. She’s no longer covering standards, her reliance on co-writers has lessened, and she’s left behind explicit nods to the jazz and country music that was such a formative influence; The Fall draws on the likes of Joe Henry, Tom Waits, and the Shins instead. Most importantly, she sounds like she’s developing her own personality—instead of simply making decent music that was easy to ignore. And as always, she melts genre barriers with her velvety voice.

With the help of producer and engineer Jacquire King—whose diverse resumé includes work with Tom Waits, Modest Mouse and Kings of Leon—Jones crafts an atypical backdrop for her languorous voice, one full of rumbling bass, eerie background sounds, and distorted Wurlitzer pianos. There is also far more guitar than can usually be found on a Norah Jones album—much of it she plays herself, occasionally calling in ringers like Marc Ribot and Smokey Hormel to paint with more abstract colours.

Thankfully, the makeover suits her well. And judging by the lyrical content, which is steeped in heartbreak and loss, it sounds like she needed at least a change of sonic scenery. Jones doesn’t wallow in her personal loss, and despite the prevailing melancholy mood, The Fall is not a dark record—instead, it’s colourful and alive with detail. Because Jones has always been a bit of a blank canvas as vocalist, even the most desolate lyric here is rich with empathy and reassurance.

It’s obviously her most personal album, it also wound up being her best. The Fall makes her earlier commercial breakthroughs seem like child’s play; hopefully, this marks the arrival of the real artist. (K-W Record, November 19)




Lyle Lovett – Natural Forces (Universal)

After 23 years of heartbreaking country balladry and rollicking Western swing, Lyle Lovett is ready to rock’n’roll.

At least, that’s what we hear on the closing track of his new album, suitably titled “It’s Rock’n’Roll,” with a finger-tapping guitar riff, big power chords and a boogie-woogie rhythm underneath. Lovett’s trademark deadpan dry delivery suits the material perfectly, and the song itself manages to be much more than just the campy send-up it could have been.

Sadly, that’s the most animated Lovett manages to be on the whole of Natural Forces, which is the latest in a series of merely average albums from this once-great artist; only 2003’s My Baby Don’t Tolerate has managed to break that curse in the last 15 years. His wit, his narrative storytelling, and his sardonic eye for detail all seem to have evaporated; without those, Lovett is still a decent songwriter, but nowhere near the unique, captivating figure he once was.

Perhaps it’s unfair to saddle him with the weight of his past, but when he set the bar so high, so many times, it’s near impossible not to. (K-W Record, November 5)




Pick a Piper – EP (independent)

Brad Weber has been touring the world for the last several years as a drummer with Dundas, Ontario’s Caribou. He is ostensibly the drummer in that band, but many Caribou tracks end up with every musician on stage hammering on a drum kit of their own. It sounds like Weber carries some of that aesthetic over to his new project, Pick a Piper, which is just as equally percussive and melodic, although considerably less intense than the multi-layered density that Caribou aims for. Weber likes to keep things sparse, whether he’s tapping ’60s psychedelia, ’90s lo-fi bedroom rock, or channelling a drum circle to interpret abstract electronica. Whatever the hell it is he’s up to, this is an incredibly promising beginning, and likely a rousing live show as well. (K-W Record, November 26)




Dave Rawlings Machine – A Friend of a Friend (Acony)

It’s a perfect album title for a sideman stepping into the spotlight. Rawlings has written and performed with Ryan Adams, Bright Eyes and Robyn Hitchcock, but is best known as the long-time right-hand-man for Gillian Welch. She’s right by his side here, playing, singing and co-writing on this, his first solo album.

Fans of Welch won’t find anything drastically different here, although Rawlings is very much his own songwriter and less likely to sink into a lethargic lull, as even Welch’s finest albums tend to do. “It’s too easy to feel good,” he sings, over a driving fiddle and upright bass, and for the most part he keeps matters spirited. The exception is a brooding, unnecessary medley of Bright Eyes’ “Method Acting” and Neil Young’s “Cortez the Killer,” which share similar chords but couldn’t be further apart lyrically.

Highlights include a resurrection of his co-write “To Be Young (Is to Be Sad, To Be High),” first heard on Ryan Adams’s debut solo album, and the gorgeous closing number “Bells of Harlem,” which could well go on to be a standard.

Along with Buddy and Julie Miller’s excellent Written in Chalk, 2009 has been a good year for the sidemen to step forward. (K-W Record, November 19)




Rupa and the April Fishes – Este Mundo (Cumbancha)

There’s something about this San Francisco band that’s too good to be true for public radio programmers or folk festival bookers: steeped in Parisian hot jazz and reggae, riddled with accordions, trombones, dumbeks and violins, and sung in French and Spanish, the music of Rupa and the April Fishes seems devised to push all the correct “world music” buttons for the café set. Yet they’re exceptionally good at it; bandleader and singer Rupa Marya strikes the right chord between torch song tragedy and hopeful optimism, while her lively band excel at delicate and spritely arrangements that may be musically nomadic, but don’t sound the least bit restless. This is a band who sound right at home in any corner of the world. (K-W Record, November 12)




John Southworth – MamaTevatron (Dead Daisy)

Despite being a huge fan of his first two albums, both released about a decade ago (1998’s Mars, Pennyslvania and 1999’s Sedona, Arizona), I have to confess to having missed almost everything John Southworth has been up to since. I lost track around the time he was reinventing his old songs for a bluegrass band and performing in whiteface; his newer material at the time suggested that the terminal romantic was surrendering to not-so-clever wordplay in place of real emotion.

So having no idea what’s transpired since—other than some co-writing with old chum Hawksley Workman, and having songs covered by Sarah Slean and Jully Black—it’s a joy to hear Southworth in top form on MamaTevatron.

He’s back behind the keyboards—no guitars allowed here—with a distorted Rhodes driving most of the material by pounding out steady eighth notes, while his droll tenor spins sweet and sour and silly tales. Southworth’s sound is still impossible to pin down, other than to say it borrows from various eras from English music hall to ’80s new wave, with a bit of many a pop oddball from history in the mix—including even Prince’s paisley period. “Buffalo City Hall,” “Trust the Voice of Love,” and “I Get It Now” are some of the finest pop songs of the year, and even the weakest tracks here are incredibly catchy and clever.

On the closing track, “Zulou,” he enters enchanted territory, and even if the lyrics about “19th century dwarves” and holding “your egg and spoon as you walk across the moon” seem ridiculous, Southworth’s unexpected delivery pulls it off with aplomb.

Clearly, it’s time to start paying attention again. (K-W Record, November 12)




Joss Stone – Colour Me Free (EMI)

At a ripe old 22, Joss Stone has four albums under her belt, but Colour Me Free is the first time she sounds in full control of her awesome vocal power: she’s not stretching to prove herself and nor is she trying to contain herself into a box. The title sounds like a cliché, but she does sound free here; even when the material is frequently lightweight, Stone owns this material, having matured into the kind of gospel/blues/soul singer that brings class and finesse to anything she touches. When she matches that with a strong original—which she does several times here (“Could’ve Been You,” the Stevie Wonder-ish “Parallel Lines”)—she’s unstoppable.

But if her vocal chops have always been there—emboldened now with years of valuable experience—the success of Colour Me Free is due just as much to her backing band, her collaborators and—most of all—her producers, who craft a sumptuous, swampy sound that gives Stone plenty of space to fill with her voice. The well-arranged, gospel-infused backing vocals sound like a real live trio of women singing in a room, not just clones of the lead; the pianos plink and the organs swirl around the sparse rhythm section; the strings are never syrupy. The cumulative effect goes for that late-’70s New York City soul sound that Alicia Keys frequently aims for but never quite gets. A guest appearance by Nas, on the politically lightweight “Governmentalist,” lends further weight to the album’s funkiest track.

For all its strengths, Stone isn’t quite at the stage where she can get away with a track called “Mr. Wanker Man” (it’s as bad as it sounds); the cover art is equally atrocious. Otherwise, this is the Stone we’ve been waiting for. (K-W Record, November 5)




Them Crooked Vultures – s/t (Universal)

The first thing you hear from this supergroup is a song titled “No One Loves Me, Neither Do I.”

After hearing the rest of the disappointing debut album by Them Crooked Vultures—a band featuring Led Zeppelin’s John Paul Jones and Nirvana’s Dave Grohl—the self-flagellating song title seems like less of a joke.

How could this possibly fail? Perhaps it has everything to do with singer Josh Homme of Queens of the Stone Age, because no matter how good a band’s rhythm section is, their fate ultimately rests on their singer and songwriter. And instead of rising to the challenge in the presence of greatness, Homme sounds asleep at the wheel, like he’s trudging his way through Alice in Chains b-sides.

There are times when Grohl and Jones break a real sweat (“Reptiles,” “Elephants,” or the Cream-like “Scumbag Blues”), but even if you block Homme from the mix, this is still nowhere near as monstrous as it should be.

Them Crooked Vultures is an incredibly wasted opportunity. One wonders why they didn’t call Jack White—he’s always good for whipping together a side project on a moment’s notice. Too bad he was busy stealing another Queen of the Stone Age (guitarist Dean Fertita) for the debut of his far superior 2009 band The Dead Weather. (K-W Record, November 26)