Music Reviews: Lucero, Built to Spill, The Felice Brothers, Wolf Parade
Lucero
1372 Overland Park
Universal Republic Recordsfeb 2010
I used to detest this record, but I got over it. Here’s what happened: I wanted every Lucero song to sound the same, like “My Best Girl” off their self-titled album—rough and mysterious, sweet and a little sad, Willie Nelson with punk sensibilities. But 1372 Overland Park doesn’t sound like that. It’s all boisterous energy and blasting saxophone tracks. Ugh. However, the more I listened to it, the more it got me. The energy is infectious and the horns are endearing, like a sweet jumble of Bruce Springsteen and Memphis soul. And there’re still a few down-and-out ballads in there with that old-school crestfallen charm—“Can’t Feel A Thing,” “Mom,” “Darken My Door.” Anyhow, “My Best Girl” is still my favorite, but what would it say about Lucero if they made the same damn song, album after album?
Built To Spill
There Is No Enemy
Warner Brothers Records jan 2010
Built To Spill represents everything awesome about psychedelic jam bands, without actually sounding like them. There’s the intricate guitar-work, and there’s the wandering melodies that build and build and then cathartically disperse—creating not just a song, but a multi-faceted rock epic. However, the music itself is cleaner, more precise and modern and, well, sweeter. Less threatening. As a songwriter who maintains that his lyrics aren’t about the meaning, but instead, about the sounds the words make, Doug Martsch always writes great lyrics. They might be cryptic but, ironically, they always resonate sweetly with the human experience. Lots of stuff about confusion, about not knowing what you’re talking about, and about not being sure where you’re headed. He doesn’t want to seem like he knows what he’s doing, but he does. And while the last few BTS albums might’ve been, eh, shoulder shrug, There Is No Enemy is much more inspired. It’s almost like Mr. Martsch cares! And when someone as effortlessly talented as he is actually cares and tries, well, crikey!
The Felice Brothers
The Felice Brothers sept 208
Team Love
Unlike the Doobie Brothers and the Chemical Brothers, the Felice Brothers actually are brothers. Ian, Simone, and James Felice, plus their poker buddy named “Christmas,” all grew up in the Catskills of Upstate New York, where they jammed in the backyard at family cookouts and eventually moved to the big city to play the subway stations or something. Now, I haven’t heard the band’s previous two records, but something tells me that this is the one where everything came together. It’s a rich and ragged collection of lawless, storytelling tunes that sounds like Dylan meets Springsteen meets some Bright Eyes-esque indie kids. And in fact, this album was released on Conor Oberst’s label Team Love. Yep, accordions, organs, vagabond guitars, ballads, and raucous jams. And whiskey—whiskey’s in there somewhere, too. Plus, a true salt of the earth talent for creating mystery and the warmth of atmosphere.
Wolf Parade
At Mount Zoomer
Sub Pop Records october 2008
When it’s 95 degrees out and you’re still trying to work, when your laptop has been running all day and is sizzling beneath your hands, when you’re drinking coffee to keep going and the caffeine, too, is making you sweat, when Wolf Parade is detonating in your eardrums via meaty headphones that are meant to drown out the three idiotic handymen installing the AC unit in your workspace—when all that’s happening, the heat that’s been building and building finally reaches such a frenzied pitch that it’s almost, well, beautiful. Sometimes it’s good to sweat. Anyway, this new record by Montreal’s Wolf Parade has a heat of its own for sure. It’s a sophomore album and kinda weird and wonderful like their last one. It’s all mellow dancey interludes, strange David Burn-esque rants, and keyed-up screaming rock-outs. Really, I’m not exactly sure what makes Wolf Parade so magnetic, but I’m sweating and it’s great and I’m just going with it.
A sampling from various Transworld Snowboarding music columns
