PJ Harvey - Let England Shake

Who is PJ Harvey? Who is the woman who has established herself so strongly as to have received five Grammy nominations and accolades as high as the number one female rock artist, all while still remaining a bit of an unknown? We’re talking about someone who hit the music scene strong in the late 80s and is continuing to demonstrate individuality almost 25 years later.

It is said that Harvey reinvents herself with every album, even going as far as changing her physical appearance to better fit the tone of the pieces on which she’s working. Let England Shake admittedly being my introduction to Harvey, perhaps it takes familiarity with her entire repertoire to fully appreciate the direction she took with this latest effort, to know all that has come to be and all that has influenced the mind and desires of Harvey. That aside, Let England Shake is an up-close, first-hand account of the world that Harvey sees today.

What seemed to grab my attention more than anything else in this album is that it almost seems out of place in 2011. The lyrics and musical style seem more appropriate for a late-60s Vietnam War protest. This is noticeable right away with the opening title track and continues both subtly and overtly throughout the album. But what separates this from the Woodstock rock that literally defined a generation of Americans, Harvey is speaking from an entirely new viewpoint, one analyzing the modern world and as an English(wo)man.

Seeming to be stuck in the middle of a love-hate relationship with her homeland, Harvey follows the reluctant concession of the title track with the reverence of “The Last Living Rose” and her anxiousness to return home to the enemy she knows and loves best. But turning right back around, “The Glorious Land,” complete with a heavy-handed cavalry charge, turns back to questioning the very foundation of England, and America too.

“The Words the Maketh Murder” is probably the most puzzling of all the tracks. Told from the perspective of a soldier returning from war, the graphic violence of the verses is offset by the catchy and yet still miserable chorus, one that you might even find yourself singing aloud to the confused and concerned looks of those around you…“these, these, these are the words…the words that maketh murder…” And it’s all summed up with a take on Eddie Cochran’s classic, “what if I take my problem to the United Nations.” Woah.

But hey, if that didn’t get you in the right mood, perhaps the opening line of “All and Everyone” will help set you right: “Death was everywhere.” Ah, yes. That did it. Harvey’s carrying some serious weight with her. And as if this weight of the present weren’t heavy enough, she insists we go back 80 years to “Battleship Hill” and reflect on the tears of the past.

The cringe-inducing instrumentals and vocals of “England” seem to be no accident as she revisits her torn feelings toward her country. And just to make sure you understand perfectly what the theme is here, “In the Dark Places” and “Bitter Branches” should put any argument to rest.

It’s only in the remaining two tracks that Harvey begins to lighten the mood, but in music only. The lyrics of “Hanging on the Wire” and “Colour of the Earth” are no reprieve from the darkness of its predecessors, but it is now that Harvey allows a glimmer of sunshine to break through with some soft piano and vocals and a Syd Barrett-like guest appearance by Mick Harvey (no relation), respectively.

Harvey’s own thoughts state that Let England Shake is not a political album. She says it’s simply her “looking outward.” While it might be true in that she doesn’t seem to favor one ideal over the other, there is clearly no shortage of political overtones, laments on death and war, and a viewpoint of someone who sees quite a bit wrong with the world. I can’t say as I disagree entirely, but I also can’t say that I want it all crammed into one album. In art, there is a delicate balance when dealing with depressing and morbid realities. Too little and one can seem dismissive. Too much and one can come off as engrossed and even despondent, and unfortunately it is the latter that Harvey accomplishes here. While this may be balanced by her other albums, here it prevents the album from standing on its own. Even more disappointing is that musically, Harvey achieves quite a lot, but the burden of the lyrics proves too much.

Rating
Overall: 3/5
Originality: 4/5
Production: 3.5/5
Listenability: 2/5

Available at Amazon.com and iTunes.

Late to the Party: Michael Jackson's This Is It

Indifference. If there’s one word that could describe my emotions when Michael Jackson died, this would be it. Indifference because the real Michael Jackson died long before. Indifference because it seemed a bit strange to mourn the loss of a crazed, accused pedophile. Indifference because the world now had one less drug-addicted celebrity to follow in the tabloids. That was it. Until This Is It.

Released in October of 2009 to much controversy, Michael Jackson’s This Is It is a collection of rehearsal footage from what was to be a 50-show run at London’s 02 Arena. Rumored to be part comeback, part retirement tour, the shows would have run from July 2009 through March 2010 but never happened due to Jackson's death 18 days before the first scheduled date.

Not usually impressed by aging rock stars hitting the road for over-priced reunion tours, I had little interest in the hype leading up to the shows, and even less interest in this film after Jackson’s death. Yet there seemed to be a nagging draw tugging at me to see this. Perhaps it was an urge to watch the car wreck and confirm that I was right all along, that Jackson had nothing left to offer. Or maybe it was a tinge of hope that the star of my childhood had just as much talent before dying as he did 25 years prior. And so, almost a year and a half after its release, I caved to the urge and am very glad I did.

This Is It is perhaps the greatest memorial Michael could have ever received. Proving that he shouldn’t be eulogized similar to the stroke or Alzheimer victim whose body lived far beyond his mind, This Is It demonstrates that the Michael we all came to love and admire was still very much alive, while unfortunately very hidden under a veil of mental illness and physical deterioration. Michael was just as talented and every bit as dedicated to entertaining his fans as he ever was. Watching him sing and dance his way through hit after hit after hit, all the while demanding and arguably achieving perfection from himself, his band and his dancers, the film almost makes you forget all of the baby-dangling, courthouse appearances and pedophile allegations that consumed the man who defined a generation of music. And so…

Sadness. If there’s one word that could describe my emotions after watching This Is It, sadness would be most accurate. Sadness for what could have been. Sadness for what was there all along but never known. Sadness for a man who personally was beyond hope, but professionally defined greatness. Sadness for the loss of one of the greatest music icons of all time.

Available for streaming via Netflix.

The Teletubbies' Work Here Is Done

He almost loses the string section during the nose pick, but the finish more than makes up for it.

Bela Fleck and the Flecktones - Jingle All the Way

There are pretty much only two camps when it comes to Bela Fleck and the Flecktones: Those who are fans and those who have never heard them. And selling a newcomer on them isn’t exactly easy, either. Jazz Banjo? Electric drums? Soprano sax? You mean like Kenny G? Yeah, well, just listen. Put aside any prejudices you have towards any of the above and resist the urge to be immediately critical and just listen. Bela Fleck (banjo), Jeff Coffin (woodwinds), Victor Wooten (bass) and Roy “Future Man” Wooten (percussion) have found an amazing way to take an unlikely combination of instruments and turn them into some of the most interesting, unique and awe-inspiring music available today. It doesn’t hurt that each one has, for all intents and purposes, mastered his particular craft, either.

With nine studio and two live albums under their belt, these virtuosos turned their attention to perhaps the most oversaturated market in music—a Christmas album. Have no fear though, Jingle All the Way isn’t your dad’s Christmas album. Well, actually, in my case it is, but you get my point. Let’s just say Anne Murray, Bing Crosby and Johnny Mathis may have paved the way, but the Flecktones have broken new ground and haven't exactly made it easy for those wishing to follow.

To start with, I’ve never heard a "Jingle Bells" use a tension and release technique, but somehow the quartet (with the help of Tuvan throat singers Alash Ensemble) has managed to do so. Without conjuring up any more innuendos than necessary, it's impressive how the anxious and driving chorus builds to a threshold before letting go into the the cathartic and calming verse, both eventually melding together in a suprising harmony.

The five-four time of "Silent Night" adds a unique touch to the traditional three-four, with Coffin taking the lead on soprano sax but leaving room for solos from Bela and Victor. And the half-time "Sleigh Ride" feels a bit more like a Clark Griswold slicked-up saucer ride than a horse-drawn ride with Charles Dickens.

As if playing as a group doesn’t demonstrate their expertise enough, many Flecktones albums also include complete solo numbers, usually by Bela or Victor, giving them a chance to really shine, and Wooten’s soft-hearted solo of "The Christmas Song" is yet another demonstration of his mastery of the bass. Effortless and tasteful, Wooten is able to add texture and dynamics to this classic on an instrument that is rarely featured alone, especially not on a holiday song.

Now, let’s just take a quick breath and collect ourselves because it is very hard to even write this next line…………Okay, here goes. The true highlight of Jingle All the Way is, without a doubt, "Twelve Days of Christmas." There. I said it. But before you close out your browser and dismiss any musical taste I have as poor, let’s think about this. In a way, it kind of makes sense. It would take musical geniuses to turn in an even tolerable rendition of Twelve Days of Christmas, and amazingly the Flecktones have gone even beyond that. When most song writers pen a tune it’s almost always in the standard four-four time. Maybe they’ll get a little creative and throw it in three-four or even five-four, but that’s about it. And maybe after a couple of rounds of verses and choruses, they’ll throw in a key change just to spice things up. Well, how about one song played in twelve different signatures and twelve different keys? Yes, you read that right. I’ll give you a minute to digest it. These bastards decided to not only play each day in a different key but also a different signature, each corresponding to its day, ie two-four for the second day, three-four for the third, five-four for the fifth and so on, all the way through all twelve days. AND that’s both up and back. So the ever so fun “twelve drummers, eleven pipers piping, ten lords a leaping…”? Yup, changing keys and time signatures all the way back down to one. You know what? Here, just watch.

Okay, so now that that’s done, what’s next? How about a little classical in the shape of Bach’s "Christmas Oratorio" (BVW 248 #41), bringing in Bela’s buddy in all things classical, Edgar Meyer on the double bass. Versions of Vince Guaraldi’s "Christmas Time is Here" and "Linus and Lucy" are spot on and not without some Flecktones flair.

The "Jingle Bells Reprise," again with the Tuvan singing, is the only unnecessary track on the album. It’s nothing against the Tuvan talent, but there isn’t enough variety in it to feature at now three different points in the album (the second being a brief appearance in Twelve Days). But short and to the point, it at least doesn’t overstay its welcome entirely.

I’m not sure if the inclusion of "The Hanukkah Waltz" is done to offer universality or just because it’s a great fit for the Flecktones, but either way it works. As does the second classical track, "Danse of the Sugar Plum Fairies."

And please welcome back Alash Ensemble! The only unfortunate thing about "What Child is This" is that it’s the 12th track. The now fourth appearance by Alash fits quite well with the orient-flavor the Flecktones put on the Greensleeves redo, but at this point it’s coming off as a tired gimmick, which any fan of the Flecktones knows they aren’t opposed to. But the redeeming factor is that the tune is actually quite well done, so I guess I’ll cut them some slack.

"O Come All Ye Faithful" is absolutely amazing, not necessarily for the fact that it’s very well played, but more for the fact that no member of the Flecktones plays on it. How completely unselfish to stand aside and allow two outstanding (and outsider) musicians take the stage, with Meyer returning on double bass and Andy Statman on mandolin.

The "Medley" is a really fun way of incorporating a number of traditional holiday tunes without the need to make a double disk album. Using "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" as the central theme, "Medley" also dabbles in "It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas," "Rudolph," "My Favorite Things," "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen," "Little Drummer Boy," and "We Three Kings."

"Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" takes on a fun, bouncy feel almost reminding of "Baby It’s Cold Outside." And adding a touch of the modern, Bela plays both banjo and piano on his solo rendition of Joni Mitchell’s "River."

Thank you, good night! But while you leave, Bela will serenade you a bit more with his own Christmas medley as a solo bonus track.

Alright, so let’s just cut to the chase here. The only reason not to own this album is because you don’t like Christmas songs. Past that, I can’t think of any good reason. Don’t like the banjo? Don’t worry, you’ll have a new appreciation for it after this. Already have plenty of Christmas albums? Well, I can guarantee you that nothing on your shelf provides even close to the variety of this. So, as long as you're not that aforementioned scrooge, do yourself a favor and get this album. Not only that, get it for your friends and family. And when they open it and you are met with the looks of "jazz banjo?" "electric drums?" and "soprano sax like Kenny G?", push play, sit back and tell them to just listen.

Listen to my review from a very festive Saturday Night Special (WCGO - 1590 am Chicago)

Rating
Overall: 4.5/5
Originality: 5/5 (the fact that there aren't any original songs on it aside)
Production: 4/5
Listenability: 5/5

Available at the Flecktones online store, Amazon.com and iTunes.

Josh Ritter - So Runs The World Away

"Hey Josh, this is my girlfriend." "Oh hi, we were just talking about you. It's nice to meet you."

This is the Josh Ritter that not only I, but really any one of his fans have come to know. Not a celebrity. Not a rock star. Just a guy and his guitar sitting around with a few (thousand) friends, singing a few tunes. And hey, sing along if you'd like.

You can hear this in any one of his eight albums, each with its own unique musical flavor, but consistently making the listener feel at home. It's his ninth effort that offers something new. A different Josh. An introspective Josh. A Josh that might just have to close the door and keep this one to himself.

So Runs the World Away brings with it a melancholic tone that we're not used to from the usually perky Ritter. While love seems to be the main theme of the album (no new topic for him), the under- and sometimes over-tones of obsession, death and departure throughout are definitely a newer focus. There is also a noticeable juxtaposition between the lyrics and the melody of many of the tunes, leaving the listener confused about when these stories are taking place. The music says he is telling folktales, but the lyrics suggest that he is in fact speaking of himself in present time. The lilting waltz of "The Curse," the Irish-toned "Folk Bloodbath" or sea-fared "Another New World," are all examples.

By his own admission, Ritter was at a darker point in his life while penning the album. Not necessarily the same darkness reflected in the lyrics, but a period where insecurity seemed to be taking over. He can rest assured, though, whatever doubt he may have been feeling in his own head is reserved for him alone. While So Runs the World Away brings with it that abovementioned newness, it does not lack any confidence, nor does it come off as trying too hard. It comes off as a man with a new story to tell, maybe one that's been in his head all along, but he's just now finding the ways to explain it. You can hear it in the honest admission of "See How Man Was Made" or the drifting of "Southern Pacific."

But it isn't all gloom and doom. There is hope in "Lark" and delight in the fixation of "Orbital." So, you don't have to worry about Josh. He's doing fine. He just has a little something different on his mind, and you should hear him out.

Listen to my review from The Saturday Night Special (WCGO - 1590 am Chicago)

Rating
Overall: 4/5
Originality: 4/5
Production: 4/5
Listenability: 5/5

Available on iTunes, JoshRitter.com and Amazon.com.

Heady jam brah!

I'm pretty sure this is what my parents heard when I played my first bootleg for them.

Just please don't call me a monster

You little bitch. Fine. You win. I give up. But damn it if I didn’t try. I tried hating you. I tried to just lump you in with the rest of those jackasses. You know, those other talentless hacks that shake their shit on stage and call it music. I tried to just dismiss you as lame pop crap. I tried so damn hard. But try as I may, you won. I still can’t figure it out though. What the hell is it about you that actually makes me like you? Is it that you’re just better than those aforementioned hacks, or are you actually good? Maybe it’s because you have actual musical training beyond how to use auto-tune. Or possibly it’s because you’re originally a singer-songwriter. Or is that a deterrent, that I should hate you for selling out and turning pop? Or do I respect you for it? I can’t figure it out, but holy hell if you haven’t figured out a way to get your stupid little songs stuck in my head. So, I concede. You win. Goddamnit.