Review: PJ Harvey: White Chalk

My PJ Harvey review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com



PJ Harvey
White Chalk
Island Records
2007

"When I grow up" is a mantra that many of us have heard and said throughout our years and it's a statement that has shades of fallacy. Do any of us really know when we have truly grown? What about an artist, someone who ages in front of our very eyes and ears do their evolution and growth ever end? My favorite artists keep on evolving, changing and challenging themselves in their craft and at times their loyal audience. Thom Yorke, Bjork, Ryan Adams, Jeff Tweedy and Bob Dylan come to mind as artists who are constantly molding their art to new shades of sonic brilliance. But my favorite has to be one Ms. Polly Jean Harvey. From the first time I heard her strums and youthful howls in "Sheela-Na-Gig" there was something in her voice that reached out and shook me. Polly Jean has a habit of taking listeners by the throat and caressing their hearts in the same song. She's tough, cool, cerebral, romantic, dark, and sweet with infinite sensuality wrapped up in a breathless package that many, like me, respect and adore from afar.

Ever since Dry I had followed her intensely with every step, every song and every album. Not all have been my favorites but I have seen slight changes in the moods, lyrics and sounds of each release. Still, my favorite will always be Stories from the City, Stories From the Sea, the album I first bought while on my journey of self-discovery when I lived in New Orleans. I feel like she, herself, is searching for self-discovery in each of her creations. There is exploration within each release from an artist searching for answers in her muse. Mostly we find more intriguing questions in her songs, which sometimes are even more captivating than the answers we seek to find in her albums as a whole.

White Chalk is PJ Harvey stripped, at her most exposed, yet even with the stark state of these tracks we only get a glimpse of her genius. She no longer hides behind the mega licks we know and love from Rid of Me and Stories from the City. Think of this is a continuation of the lo-fi vibe that PJ started in Uh-Huh Her but more so. White Chalk is the most naked and revealing we have ever heard from PJ. It's clearly her own voice but the question remains: is she really singing about her own life? The best artists, most favorites whom I mentioned up above, write with shades of their own experiences but have a way of making each song universal in nature, where, in essence, it becomes less about the artist and more about our own lives and our own experiences. That's the mark of greatness.

"As soon as I'm left alone/ the devil wanders into my soul and I pretend to myself," sings Harvey on the opening track "The Devil." It sounds like a twisted Spector-esque '60s lovelorn pop song without the harmonious ending. It's an interesting choice to start off White Chalk because the majority of the album has very minimal instrumentation. In fact, it sounds like PJ is getting her Under the Pink on, as she un-strapped the guitar and took up the piano keys, a-la Tori Amos. Although most of her songs are piano based but that's where the Tori comparisons started and end.

This is unmistakably a PJ Harvey album, as you can hear from the second track "Dear Darkness." Even with the dark piano chords, the lyrics are pure PJ. "Dear Darkness" sounds like an open letter to her pain and sorrow as she asks "won't you cover me, again?" We've all been there down with no hope in the horizon. I love the "tightening and tightening" angelic harmonies backing as PJ sings, "the words are tightening around my throat." I hear it as the death nail of a relationship when there are no words to say just the stares of anguished confusion. (I've been there before; it's a state I would never want to relive ever again.) The space where lightness these two people once shared is now shadowed by the blanket of darkness which has not only covered their voices but their whole love affair.

I love the way PJ captures the longing with her classical-based piano keys on "Grow Grow Grow." In this song, PJ sings about a devout naturalist hoping the seed she plants will help her sprout love from above ground. I adore the imagery of trampling the seed with her heavy boots. "When Under Ether" could be about a death of child, a love, or someone fighting a disease. The stark piano makes this song an almost funereal lament to the passing of a soul, that in someway was a stranger, but still had a connection whether it is physical or emotional in nature to the protagonist of the song.

The title track sounds as if it would have fit perfectly on Dancehall on Louse Point, PJ's collaboration with John Parish. This acoustic beauty continues the theme of loss of life as heard on "When Under Ether." Is this song about the white chalk that is seen at crime scenes around a dead body or about the death of an unborn child? "The Piano" is one of the most powerful songs on the album, with the haunting refrain of "Oh God, I miss you," revisiting on the recurring themes of White Chalk the appearance of ghost, whether it be in spirits or memories, signaling loss or death is most vibrant in this lively song.

This intimate song, "Broken Harp," is a sign for love gone wrong. The harp is a symbol that is used when love is first felt, with angels playing the instrument overhead. I felt a connection with the final lyrics of this song: "I tried to learn your language/ but fell asleep/Half-undressed/ Unrecognizable to myself." I have lived those words, getting lost in someone else's life and finding your own identity has vanished in the process. This is why I love PJ Harvey, when she sings it's not just a reflection of her life; I like to think that with her own voice she is connecting to our own lives. That is a sign of pure greatness.

With every album, there is a new side of Polly that is uncovered. She is a complex artist with many shades and this why many of us who admire her. She's a mystery to me, and many live to hear the latest unveiling of her words, her passion and her gift to unleash it on us every few years. And this year's incarnation is no different. White Chalk is the latest piece to the mystery that is Polly Jean Harvey. Will we ever learn the answer to the question, `who is Polly Jean Harvey?' I hope not. My wish is that she, like one of her idols Patti Smith, merely continues to drop clues on albums and songs. Sometimes the yearning for answers by listening to the ever changing growth of an artist is better than knowing the real thing.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
10.01.2007

Review: The Doors: Live in Boston

My Doors review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com



The Doors
Live in Boston
Bright Midnight/Rhino
2007

Enough with all the rumors surrounding Jim Morrison's demise all over the internet, the real news is The Doors' new three CD live set, Live in Boston. Die hard fans have been waiting for this release that arrives courtesy of the band's own Bright Midnight label. I've heard the majority of these treasured BMA releases, and I own everything from the Detroit to Aquarius Theater shows. I even picked up the bizarre and boisterous Backstage and Dangerous Rehearsal discs. All of these recordings are an amazing glimpse at band that thrived performing in a live setting. The Doors were famous for improvising on stage and the results would range from brilliant to arduous, all depending on the mood and sobriety of Morrison.

When some people think of The Doors only the iconic image of Jim Morrison comes to mind. But die hard Doors fans know that guitarist Robby Krieger, drummer John Densmore and keyboardist Ray Manzarek were and will always be instrumental pieces of the majestic aura that made this L.A. band shine with immortality. The BMA, Bright Midnight Archives, are proof positive and these recordings testify to the truths that I speak of. If you've only heard the studio recordings then you're missing out a key element of The Doors mystique. The Doors came alive in concert. Songs like "Light my Fire" evolved into epic medleys that thrive in this live setting. While the albums are black and white portraits of power and poetry, The Doors shows are full color sounds-capes that enrapture your imagination with every song that recreate on stage.

Just press play on Live in Boston and you'll hear The Doors, warts and all. Listen for Krieger's guitar feedback distorting in and out of space and Jim's mic shorting in and out on Disc One's "Alabama Song." Get ready for the primordial overtones of a cocked and loaded Jim Morrison as he howls his poetic croons throughout this electrifying recording. The Doors actually played two shows in Boston on the night of April 10th 1970. It's pretty amazing that a band with a history like that of the Doors would have ever played two shows in one night. Most bands are lucky to hit the stage for an hour and a half before one or two in the morning? Ya heard me? Yeah, I'm talking about you, Axl Rose.

The Doors were famous for not having a proper set list for these or any live shows. Even though some songs like "Roadhouse Blues" and "When the Music's over" are repeated on this three-disc set, unlike most live bands, The Doors never played any song the same way twice. There are nuances within each of these different live versions, be they the way Krieger plays his picturesque guitar riffs, Manzarek's atmospheric splendor of his trademark keys or Densmore's soulful drum beats, each fills these transcendent rhythms into an ever changing experience with every Doors performance.

Highlights from Live in Boston include the nine minute version of "Five to One." Morrison adds the improvised "Wrap your legs around my neck, alright…" section turning this revolutionary classic to a call to arms anthem oozing with seduction. I love the soaking, sensual blues medley of Muddy Waters "Rock Me" blending smoothly into rocking railings of "Mystery Train." These cuts showcase Krieger, Densmore and Manzarek laying the sultry southern soundtrack to Morrison's bluesy vocals. Speaking of the blues, check out Morrison's Elvis-like scat singing in this killer rendition of "The Spy."

The Doors are in sync through The Boston shows. Listen how an appreciative Morrison proudly asks the crowd to give his comrades in arms some love after their amazing recreation of the instrumental coda during the revamped version of "Light my Fire." After that familiar melody, "Fire" then morphs into immortality with the addition of "Fever," Gershwin's "Summertime" and "St. James Infirmary Blues." What makes this version memorable to me is Morrison reciting "Cemetery cool and quiet/ hate to leave your sacred lay/ dread the milky coming of the day," at the coda of "Fire," from "Graveyard Poem," my favorite of all his writings.

Listening to the powerful splendor that is Live in Boston helps you forget about all the rumors surrounding Morrison's death. Who really cares how Jim died? Yes, I admit it was a tragedy. Morrison has always been a hero to me. The Doors changed my life. Their art and music opened my doors of perception. They have influenced my voice as a hungry artist and inspired me through out my grateful life as a struggling writer.

I finally had the chance to pay my respects to Jim. I made a pilgrimage to Père-Lachaise cemetery a few years back when I was in Paris. I left him some gifts; some flowers and a poem that I wrote for him on his gravestone. That emotional day will stay with me as long as I live. I will also never forget the first time I heard The Doors' scratchy seven inch single of "Light My Fire" on my first antique turntable. I believe that we need to celebrate Jim's life as an artist and member of one of the greatest American Rock bands in history.

Doors fans of all eras will cherish this live artifact. Live in Boston is a testament that encapsulates the legacy of The Doors. I believe the best bands thrive by molding their imperfections into epic greatness and The Doors are no different. Live in Boston is a glimpse inside the magic of what made this band so timeless. Although these shows lack perfection, these performances have the distinctive sensation of documenting the glory of the ultimate concert experience of The Doors.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
08.08.2007

Review: Recoil: subHuman

My Recoil review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com



Recoil
subHuman
Mute
2007

As a 17 year-old, I remember watching Depeche Mode on the big screen and their breakthrough road trip film 101. My favorite part was seeing Alan Wilder showing how he created most of the sounds Mode made famous on the albums and songs we grew to love as die hard fans. He always seemed to be the most accessible and underrated member of the band, and since his departure after the Faith and Devotion sessions, his impact and imprint of the band are now known to have been the key ingredients to the band's world wide success.

In 1988, Wilder was the first member of the band to release a solo project, under the moniker Recoil. Recoil's releases 1 + 2 and Hydrology showcased Wilder as the electronic guru who came up with all of the sonic landscapes of all of our favorite Mode songs. In 1992, Wilder released Bloodline, and took those same landscapes and molded them into more of an alternative flavored electro-song format recruiting Nitzer Ebb vocalist Douglas McCarthy, Moby and Curve frontwoman Toni Halliday. McCarthy's vocal contribution "Faith Healer" was an underground sensation when it first came out. It was Recoil's genius use of old bluesman Bukka White with electro beats that inspired Moby to crib the idea for success years later on his breakout album Play. After 1997's Unsound Methods, Alan Wilder decided to leave the friendly confines of Depeche Mode and concentrate all his time and creative energies on Recoil. This lead to Recoil's best album 2000's Liquid. Inspired by wilder witnessing a plane crash yards from his car, the song "Black Box" revolved around this track and life changing incident.

I first heard Liquid at a Nine Inch Nails Fragile show in New Orleans. My favorite track from the album was a remix of "Jezebel," featuring the bluesy Golden Gate Jubilee Quartet mixed with the most eerie and mind blowing drum and bass backing track ever created by Alan Wilder, which made my driving through the French Quarter during Halloween reflect the true gothic atmosphere that is New Orleans.

On the subject of Louisiana, Wilder must have needed more of that soulful 504 vibe (that's the New Orleans area code for those out of the loop) on his next creative excursion, because he recruited Southern Louisiana bluesman Joe Richardson as his main collaborator on subHuman. When I heard the news of this up and coming collaboration, I was readying myself for greatness. After hearing opening track "Prey," I could safely say this exceeded my expectations.

As Richardson sings "It's time to get down on your eyes" over Wilder's trademark electronic backbeats, it turns "Prey" into a 21st Century enlightened pièce de résistance. It is the culmination of the sonic undertakings that Wilder began with Liquid. Richardson helps resurrects this sacred vibe into the song that personifies what hardships everyone in South Louisiana have encountered since the aftermath of Katrina. A perfect way to reintroduce Recoil back into the consciousness of underground music fans everywhere.

"Allelujah" is the prefect song to follow "Prey." English vocalist Carla Trevaskis croons more of an angelic piece where her vocal floats in and out of the mix as if she was appearing from the heavens. An impressive performance from Trevaski, whose work picks up the mantle where other female singers like Nicole Blackman and Halliday have captured in songs from Recoil's underrated yet glorious past.

What I particularly love about Wilder's music is how he lays down distinctive beats yet he's content to let these singers carry the loaded spotlight on his ever-evolving project. Richardson returns on "5000 Years," laying down his trademark blues riffs and a vocal that sweats the sounds of the Dirty South. Wilder sprinkles this blues number with a number of minimal backbeats that accentuates Richardson's mesmerizing performance into a post-modern number that one might hear coming from a blues club in a resurrected French Quarter in New Orleans. The vibe in this song reminds of the same chilling feeling that came over me when I first heard in the remix of "Jezebel." I love the samples of the radio evangelists towards the end of the song. It reminds of industrial bands like Front 242 that I used to listen to during the slam-dancing days of my youth.

Trevaskis returns on the Massive Attack-esque "Intruders." This song sounds as if would fit perfectly on Mezzanine. If you're a Massive Attack fan and dying for an album that echoes the lyrical darkness of Mezzanine then subHuman is for you. Richardson shows again up as he trades vocal lines with Tevaskis, reflecting a little bit of electronic darkness and light in the bluesy night sky. It's the perfect combination that lifts subHuman as the ultimate addition to Recoil's explosive canon.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
08.08.2007

Review: Editors: And End has a Start

My Editors review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com


An End has a Start
Editors
Kitchenware/Fader
2007

Since the tragic death of Ian Curtis, there has been a void that has yet to be filled. Yeah, I know New Order merely continued with the musical direction that Joy Division started. But what happened to the sound of midnight heard on Joy Division's two legendary records? That same sound that was the soundtrack for every misunderstood teen, dressed in black, listening to "Love Will Tear Us Apart." A nation of Goths still yearn for a deep haunting vocal to descend deeper in a sound that echoes the feeling where hope and despair eventually collide.

With the arrival of bands like New York's Interpol and their magnificent debut Turn out the Bright Lights, the legacy of Ian Curtis was finally finding a foundation across the Atlantic. During Interpol's three year pause after Antics, a UK band appeared to pick up where their New York counterparts left off. With their stellar debut The Back Room, The Editors relit the flame once sparked by Joy Division. Instead of running away from the Curtis legacy as Interpol was prone to do, Editors embraced it, musically at least, and thanks to support from bands like U2, became the indie darlings of 2006.

I was introduced to The Editors by an old co-worker of mine, Slobodan, the Import Buyer at the Lincoln Park Tower Records in Chicago. I used to work the late shift with Slobodan and he would sneak a few imports on the in-store play, which is how I discovered and subsequently bought records by Richard Hawley, among others. The Editors' debut was one such album, and it would never fail that someone would always come up and dubiously ask "is this a new Joy Division song, you're playing?" And they would eventually purchase the very expensive import edition of The Back Room. I thought that The Back Room was an impressive debut, thanks to the exposure from Slo'. I loved the song "Bullets," with its chorus of "You don't need this disease." that even Curtis would adore. It was merely the spark that is set aflame on their superior follow-up An End Has a Start.

In spite of the strong influence, The Editors are not a Joy Division clone. They have their own distinctive sound that begins but doesn't end with the Curtis comparisons. Tom Smith's vocals and lyrics reflect Ian's, but Smith has his own unique vocal flavor. What I find striking about Smith's voice is the hints of hope in his lyrics, like "Every little piece of your life will mean something to someone" from "The Weight of the World," a lighter side that was absent from albums like Closer.

An End Has a Start has an explosive sound that should make The Editors international icons. It starts off with the "Bullets"-esque "Smokers Outside the Hospital Doors." "Someone turn me around," Tom sings, "Can I start this again?" as guitarist Chris Urbanowicz's lightning riffs carry the song into a fiery atmosphere that would impress even The Edge. The band has a grander sound on this outing, and to borrow from a Spinal Tap cliché, they definitely go to eleven.

To me "Smokers" is more than a crank `em up indie rock jam—I connect to this song on another level. It reminds me of a very frightening and unhappy time for me when I was living in Chicago. Right after Halloween a year and a half ago, I had a recurring illness that I thought was turning fatal—yes, I actually thought that I was going to die. Hearing Smith sing, "Say goodbye to everyone/You have ever known/ You are not gonna see them ever again," I'm reminded of the moment I sat there in the hospital room, scared and alone, pondering my mortality. The events of that night changed me and inspired the choices that I made soon after. This song reflects that moment when death stares you in the face and challenges you to live your life to the fullest. The coda, however, is my favorite part of the song: "We've all been changed/from what we were/Our broken parts/Smashed off the floor" When I hear "Smokers" it takes me back to all that I have faced in the past year and a half, but I'd do it all again to be where I am today. What a way to begin an album! It made me want to break out a pack and light one up—it was that intense and stimulating. Editors impress early, but Start gets even better.

Next up is the title track, which starts off with the optimistic lyric "I don't think it's going to rain today... there's an angel on the way." It grabs you from the opening chords, and Tom Smith's voice carries you as you follow him through a journey of darkness and light with a blend of sincerity and power. And the album doesn't stray from the promise laid down from the two opening tracks. There's not a weak track on Start. The atmospheric introduction and taut post-punk drum and bass line on "When Anger Shows" is another highlight. The song climbs into arena rock territory as Smith sings his plea "I need you to tell me its okay" over Urbanowicz's thunderous guitar riffs.

There are some surprises, especially achingly beautiful piano ballad "Well Worn Hand," which closes the album. A sparse arrangement with Tom Smith's vocal set to only distant keys echoes a Coldplay-like number that ends the album in a mournful yet established tone. Worry not with the Coldplay comparisons, though, as Smith sings "I don't want to go out on my own anymore," still displaying the rhythmic shadows that we have now come to expect from The Editors.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
07.18.2007

Review: White Stripes: Icky Thump

My White Stripes review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com


Icky Thump
White Stripes
Third Man/Warner Bros.
2007

It's been a while since we heard from Detroit's favorite brother/sister, ex husband/wife duo The White Stripes, and in the time since their last album, Get Behind Me Satan, they both waved good bye to the Motor City. Jack, his lovely wife and their new child moved to the Dirty South, Nashville to be exact. And Meg packed her bags and followed me out to Los Angeles. No, not really but it would be cool if it was true—if only.

Before going to Tennessee, White formed The Raconteurs and released Broken Boy Soldiers of which I wasn't really a fan. I enjoyed the first single "Steady as She Goes" and "Blue Vein" but that's it. Maybe it was the fact that White's buddy, who I never really cared for, Brendan Benson shared co-writing and vocals with Jack. It just never really hit nor shook me like a White Stripes album does. And that's the problem that most artists face when they start a new project away from their familiar confines. The baggage and greatness of their former selves overshadows their creative output, just as Macca, Johnny Marr and Robert Plant have proven, trying to escape their glory days.

So then comes the arrival of Icky Thump, and like the Stripes' last release, I was excited about the prospect of another Jack and Meg collaboration. You see, as you read in my past review, I loved Get Behind Satan. I thought that record was where The White Stripes peaked with their red and white prowess. It was such a unique album, so honest, pure and raw away from the electricity of Elephant that it still is to this day my favorite record of theirs. So to best that would be quite a feat.

Instead of topping Satan, Jack and Meg went off and resurrected the old school spirit of the Stripes in all their glory. Wow, what an album! It's a fun record and you can hear the smile on their faces as Meg bangs away on her drums and Jack slays his guitar while singing his blues-inspired vocals. Although he's living the dream, Jack White has the blues in his soul and he loves singing it to you and me. Thump is a treat, and these two always seem to surprise me by rising up and shredding my expectations. Check the way Jack tears away at a chord and holds it there while Meg thrashes her kit. Sounds like bliss to me and Thump delivers and lays it down for you and I to enjoy.

Jack continues his ongoing sonic tributes to Plant & Co. and he takes another page from Zoso's playbook. Can you feel him channeling Led Zep on the first single and title track of the album? It also sounds as if Ole Jack has gone politico taking a stand on our country's controversial policy on immigration on us as he sings "why don't you kick yrself out/ y're an immigrant too." In the video, you will even see a sign for the Great Wall of Mexico. I love the freaked out synth/keys solo towards the end of "Icky." But the piano takes a back seat and unfortunately isn't as prominent as it was on Satan.

The Stripes seem to have taken on a more global vibe, which began on the calypso trip on "The Nurse" from Satan. Listen for the mariachi horns on "The Conquest." I like to think that Jack must have loved Mull of Kintyre growing up (obscure Macca reference—I had to do it) he adds a double shot of Scottish bag pipes on "Prickly Thorn but Sweetly Worn" and "St. Andrew." I love these new additions to the Stripes arsenal, as it shows that these Jack and Meg aren't just riff and rim shot traditionalists. These two can incorporate new sounds to their already explosive musical canon.

But seriously, we all know that Jack White is a blues player at heart. Just check out "300 M.P.H. Torrential Outpour Blues" and get a history lesson that even Robert Johnson would sell his soul for. Yes, White is not only this good but he's got Meg White, his beating soul by his side. She even sings in a sped up vocal on "St. Andrew" with said bagpipes in unison with her sticks and Jack's killer chords.

Listen to Jack's guitar work on his ode to married life on "I'm Slowly Turning Into You." Along with the return of the funky organ sound The Whites create a new take on matrimony which Jack makes very alluring and true. I love the "happy ending" with the harmonious harmonies on the fade out. Nothing borrowed, it never fails, there's always something new and innovative on a White Stripes record. Icky doesn't let us down.

From the opening chords you can hear Meg and Jack becoming one as they trade lines on the ultimate track on Thump, "Rag and Bone." Together they light the spark, rock the house and burn it down with solid jamming on this powerful track that is pure White Stripes. I feel like I am right there with Jack and Meg as they hunt for treasures from an antique junk dealer coming to life on a stereo near you. I could tell you about Jack's sourly acidic lyrics which echo a past flame and failed love affair on the addictive "You Don't Know What Love Is (You Just Do What You're Told)" and the acoustic flavored "Effect and Cause" but the rhythmic style of the Stripes is what's on display with Icky Thump. Along with Jack deep prose both are the ingredients that make-up the ying and yang of Jack and Meg and their red and white blues.

I think I need to shut up now so you can run out and pick up Icky and turn up the Thump to eleven. It is time to reclaim your faith in the Whites. Lose the trepidation I, myself, had before putting my ears to this newly born classic. Bow down and let their riffs and rhymes fill you up and reign over you.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
06.25.2007

Review: Paul McCartney: Memory Almost Full

My Paul McCartney review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com


Memory Almost Full
Paul McCartney
Hear Music
2007

It's ironic that Paul McCartney's first CD to be released digitally is his best proper album in years. Memory Almost Full is a record that's not made to be downloaded individually iTunes style—this album is one that deserves to be listened to from start to finish without interruption. Yes, I was a fan of the Nigel Godrich produced Chaos and Creation in the Backyard and I had my doubts with the news that Paul was going to go back to Driving Rain producer David Kahne on Memory Almost Full. Why Paul? Why I yelled out when I read the news, but oh boy, was I proven wrong. Sorry Nigel, Macca and Kahne have bested you with Memory.

After talking about the last album with my new buddy Paul a few nights back (the name's just a coincidence), we both still were raving about Chaos. Looking back, revisiting the album after my initial review is that the Godrich-produced record sounds a bit too melancholy. Where were all the upbeat numbers beside "Fine Line?" Even so, we Macca fans owe so much to Godrich because I believe that Paul wouldn't have finished Memory without first recording and releasing Chaos.

Paul actually started working on Memory even before he began recording tracks with Nigel Godrich. He needed the Chaos experience to go back and finish his best-sounding album of the last three. I am surprised to be digging Memory so much even though I am so not a fan of Kahne. (I don't think I could ever forgive him after the whole debacle with trying to shelve Wilco's Yankee Foxtrot Hotel's album because he didn't feel there were any hits on the record. Don't get me started…) One thing I do give Kahne credit for, and the reason it's Paul's best sounding album, is that his goal was to capture all of Macca's sonic styles from the past. If you're a Wings fan, like me, you are really going to love Memory Almost Full.

The album starts with a mandolin-flavored ditty called "Everybody Dance," which is a perfect way to start. The mandolin is an instrument that Paul recently fell in love with, and he may have gotten the inspiration from George Harrison. George is the one who inspired Paul to pick up and play the ukulele, one of the many instruments that Harrison mastered. Macca actually played a tribute to Harrison during his Back in the U.S. tour with a ukulele version of "Something." "Everybody Dance" is a more upbeat number that Paul learned after first strumming his new favorite instrument. His daughter loved the sound of Paul's mandolin so much that Macca improvised the lyrics for his little girl's amusement when he saw her dancing around the room. I love the bluesy tapping of Paul's feet reminiscent of his shoe percussion on "Blackbird," it just matches so well with the warm sound of the mandolin swing.

Memory then segues into the "Fine Line"-esque "Ever Present Past." The lyrics in this upbeat song go along with the theme of Memory: "I hope it isn't too late/ searching for the time that has gone so fast/ the time that I thought would last." Paul started this premise on Chaos and continues this on Memory as he looks back with less melancholy eyes.

"See Your Sunshine" is a heartfelt, upbeat number that has Paul singing an ode to a new love. Paul has had the roughest of years, he's in the middle of a messy divorce but even the pain of his break-up hasn't dampened his mood or ever-hopeful spirit. This is the reason I feel Memory is such a superior album to Chaos. Instead of continuing the gloomy mood he had on his last record, Paul sings "I want to see your sunshine." This is what the record sounds like, sunshine to Chaos' rain. I adore the harmonies on this song, very Denny Lane-esque. Maybe with Paul looking back at his life he's singing an ode to his old Wings mate.

"Only Mama Knows" starts off with a somber string sample reminiscent of the opening to Neil Finn's "Sinner" from Try Whistling This (incidentally, Paul has worked with Mitchell Froom, who produced several Crowded House albums). After the sweet violin solo, "Only Mama Knows" turns into a "Junior's Farm"-ish rocker that would have fit on the Wings album Band on the Run next to Paul's "Helen Wheels"-like riffs before the refrain and the chorus. I love the way the song starts off sad and breaks into a joyful jam as Paul sings about looking back at the choices Mama made. Is it just me or do the harmonies sound so Wings like that it not only sounds like Denny Lane but Linda McCartney singing background vocals? Well if you look careful at the title of the album, there's an anagram of "for my soul mate LLM" which are the initials of Linda Louise McCartney, the true love of Paul's life. I like to think that Linda's spirit was with him through out the making of this electrifying album.

Throughout his long and illustrious career, Paul has always loved singing about birds; there was "Blackbird," "Bluebird" and even "Free as a Bird," yet with Memory he sings "the bright red cardinal flew down from the tree" on "You Tell Me." This song is an acoustic beauty that has the aching flavor is akin to "For No One" with the harmonies that sound straight out of the Pipes of Peace era for Paul. The harmonies on Memory are so incredibly addictive they match the sweet intensity that Paul has on his high pitched vocal on "You Tell Me."

"Mister Bellamy" has some of the best lyrics on the album, as well as some great piano. This is one of those "character songs" that John Lennon once said that Paul is so brilliant at creating, like "Lovely Rita," "Lady Madonna" and "Honey Pie" from the days that were Fab. As Paul sings "I'm not coming down/No matter what you say/ I like it up here without you" it sounds like he's singing to his ex, at least this is my interpretation and how I feel when I hear the song. The deep bass vocal echo the unique singing stylings of "Pretty Little Head" from the always underrated and often forgotten Press to Play album of 1986. When Kahne said he wanted to emulate all of Macca's vinyl flavors, he sure wasn't kidding. This guy knows his McCartney.

The wickedly cool sounds in the very effective and mostly instrumental coda of "Mister Bellamy" leads us into what I have dubbed the "Memory Medley"—my favorite part of the album. The smooth segues and stellar sequencing of the record are the best ever for a McCartney album since Ram. Macca and Kahne have essentially taken the idea first heard on side two of The Beatles' Abbey Road and incorporated it to the latter half of Memory Almost Full.

"Gratitude" follows next with a Flaming Pie's "Souvenir" meets "Oh Darling" like bluesy vocal that drips a Memphis-flavored passionate vibe. This is another uplifting number that has Paul singing "I want to show my gratitude for being loved by you." He looks back at former flame without the ache of bitterness that most of us feel remembering past lovers. So hard to do but Paul does it effortless on this post break-up love song.

Paul jumps to a piano-heavy and joyful number "Vintage Clothes," and sings "Don't live in the past/ don't hold on to something that's changing fast." He is in such a hopeful mode which is incredible and shows the strength of a man that has lost his Mother, his lyrical and songwriter partner Lennon, his soul-mate Linda and now divorced at sixty—you would think that looking back at a life of loss would bring someone down but not Paul McCartney. Yeah he has the success, the fame, money and glory but even throughout all the pain he is still the eternal singing optimist who we have grown up with. This is why I so love and respect Sir Paul McCartney—after all of these years, he's creating life affirming and cutting edge songs that are catchy and timeless as ever.

"Vintage Clothes" slides into the '50s-like rockin' ditty he captured so fluidly on Run Devil Run resurrected on "That was Me." I imagine Paul looking through all of his old photo albums, films and mementos as he sings "The same me that stands here now/ if fate agreed that all of this/ to make a lifetime, who am I to disagree, that was me." Once again as he looks back with a smile not a frown with an idea that I have always championed, everything that we have done, all the choices that we have made in our lives have led us here to this very moment and made us the person we are today.

In the '70s and on the song "C-Moon" Paul sang "How come no one older than me never seems to understand the things I want to do?" My fellow Gemini, Macca, and I think alike. I have always understood him even when he was unpopular and I was seen as an outcast being a die-hard Macca fan. He has sung for me, he has been there through all my trials. I feel like I have aged along sweetly with McCartney. On this album I too feel his bliss as he looks back where he once belonged. I am there with him, where I have always been on the journey with and the experiences in my own life; this is why I connect with a song like "The End of The End."

When he sings "At the end of the end/ it's the start of a journey to a much better place" I am there with him. In this new chapter as Paul digital, he's as vibrant and charismatic as ever. The past is prologue and I am looking forward to his next one. Until then I will relive this Memory over and over again, with a voice that's linked in time, and will sing the soundtracks of our tomorrows aging so perfectly, one could never feel alone again.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
06.06.2007

Review: Jeff Buckley: So Real

My Jeff Buckley review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com



So Real: Songs from Jeff Buckley
Jeff Buckley
Legacy-Columbia
2007

One of the only few regrets that I have I life is not seeing Jeff Buckley in concert. I had my chance, back during his Mystery White Boy tour of 1995. I was working at a used record store in San Antonio called Apple Records, and one of my cohorts there, Chris, who was like the Barry of our own High Fidelity, always adding another artist/band to his best band ever list to which we had to listen. We had been keeping track behind the counter of his list ever since he started, and we lost count at about a hundred or so of the best artist(s) ever. Jeff Buckley was on his list, and Chris had acquired tickets to one his shows in Austin at the once famous Liberty Lunch venue. Stupidly I declined Chris' invitation. I can't recall why but he took one of our aging Buyers Phil instead of me.

When Chris and Phil returned from the show, they were speechless. This was unusual even for him. The one thing Chris told me about was the way Buckley weaved The Smiths "I Know It's Over" with Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah." (Later heard on the Mystery White Boy CD) Chris couldn't even use words to express what he saw. All he could say was, "You missed one of the best shows ever." As he walked away, shaking his head in disbelief, Phil agreed. Mind you, he was one of those aging hippies always talking about how great the'60s and '70s were. Phil said, "I will never forget that show for as long as I lived." And to this day I am still kicking myself. I guess this is why I have been collecting rare Buckley live recordings, trying to compensate for missing his show.

I actually thought I would get a chance to see him live, until the fateful day when they found Buckley's body in the Mississippi in Memphis. Jeff's death affected me more than Cobain's suicide a few years before. I couldn't believe he was gone. And yet his music lives on. To add his short musical legacy comes a new compilation called So Real: Songs from Jeff Buckley. It's far from being a greatest hits disc because, during his short life, Jeff unfortunately never had any, despite very limited airplay of "Last Goodbye." Buckley was a man ahead of his time. Even though he only finished one album those songs carry on his name and legacy with every lyric, verse, chorus and riff.

My first introduction to Jeff Buckley was his opening harmonies and faint guitar picking's from "Mojo Pin." To me "Pin" sounded like an opening to a séance as if I was being inducted into this new tribe of music that was new, vintage, strange and beautiful all in the same breath. From that first song I was hooked. We, Buckley fans are rabid like a secret sect that not very many people know about. Unlike Elvis fans, we all know that Buckley's dead, but his music is what we all cling to. The thing about Buckley that we all connect to is his longing for love. His voice is the reflective pain that is the aching of heartbreak. He knows what it is like to feel, fall and lose true love. When he sings, "Born again from the rhythm screaming down from heaven/ Ageless, ageless and I'm there in your arms," we find it hard not to connect to him. He sings for the passion we yearn for, have felt or are currently experiencing in our own lives.

To pick a favorite song or lyric is for me, or asking any English major, trying to select your favorite play or soliloquy from one of Shakespeare's many works. And this is from someone who only recorded one true album in his lifetime. This is how influential he was and still remains. Thom Yorke once said that his vocal on "Fake Plastic Trees" was inspired by seeing Jeff Buckley live in concert. Without Jeff would we have heard such an amazing vocal performance from Yorke on The Bends? Probably not.

Anyway, I'll give in—one of my favorite Buckley lyrics has to be, from one of favorite songs "Lover Should Have Come Over"—"Too young to hold on/ and too old to just break free and run." This was the way that I used to feel when I was in a relationship. I seemed to be naïve romantic falling for these women who were, in certain instances seemed right for me, but after a short time it was apparent that we were strangers who weren't meant to be. Now when I hear, "she's the tear who hangs inside my soul forever," it reminds me of the boy child desperately searching for love in affairs that seemed rushed and unfulfilling. I knew how Jeff felt when he sang, "Well maybe I'm just too young/to keep good love from going wrong." As I sang along with Buckley asking "Will I ever learn?", I hoped one day I would. I finally did.

"Hallelujah" is the coming of two lovers for the first time in the dark, naked and so sweet. "So Real" and his lyric "And remember the smell of the fabric of your simple city dress" speaks simply for the memory of the taste and scent of a former love. Then there's "Last Goodbye" the ode to the one that you once fell for, but now must leave behind. "Everybody Here Wants You" is a Memphis soul song that's pure Buckley as he croons for the amor in his life, "Love can taste like the wine of the ages, oh babe/ And I know they all looks so good from a distance/ But I tell you I'm the one," as the shy one at the party. But don't dare think that J.B. is the godfather of the Emo movement, because he could rock like the best of them. When I used to work at Tower Records in New Orleans, I would play Jeff Buckley, and some of the clerks and managers would tease me that I loved playing `sensitive guy music.' That's when I would crank up "Eternal Life (Road Version)" and "The Sky is a Landfill" to shut them up. Both songs are featured on So Real to show that Jeff had the power to kick out the jams along with his feminine falsetto side. Buckley was a complex character who didn't want to get pigeonholed into one sound or song idea this was the reason that he took so long recording his follow-up that he never really finished.

So Real also contains some fine rarities. The alternate take of "Dream Brother" is, I feel, the best version, with its varied lyrics more ethereal and addicting than the original. An acoustic rendition of "So Real," where we can hear Buckley clearly whisper, "I Love you/but I'm afraid to love you" after the breakdown, is also particularly memorable. "Forget You" is the ghost of a former lover that haunts your thoughts and dreams who will not go away no matter how much time has past. We also shan't forget the inclusion of the gem, the brilliant cover of The Smiths' "I Know It's Over."

I don't think I could come up with a better track-listing than the one that The Buckley estate selected on So Real. Then again, I would have liked to have heard "Lilac Wine" and "Satisfied Mind" but that's what playlists and our own personal mix CDs are for. This is fine for an introduction, however. Jeff Buckley once said, "I don't want to be remembered. I hope the music is remembered." With the release of Sketches, the Legacy Edition of Grace and now So Real, Jeff may just get his wish. His music will have its own life that we'll cherish every time we hear his songs over and over again like an eternal lullaby that we hope will always light his name and never fade out.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
06.04.2007

Review: Patti Smith: Twelve

My Patti Smith review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com



Patti Smith
Twelve
Columbia
2007

When I think of the ideal cover version, one song that comes to mind is Patti Smith and her take on Them's "Gloria." Those opening lines from her debut album "Jesus died for somebody's sins but not mine…" was her way of calling to the world saying "I am woman, hear me roar." And for a generation she has stood up as a poet, rocker, activist and artist with a voice that's equally powerful sexy and inspiring.

Every time I hear Patti's voice I think of a former novia, Heather. I met her in New Orleans, and we were best friends for months before we got together. She single-handedly re-introduced me into Patti Smith when I was in my own poet/social activist phase in my life. Heather was a die-hard Patti fan and sees Smith live every time she plays in New York. Even if Smith plays a four night stand, Heather and her sister are there every night. When ever I hear one of Patti's songs I think of her and the way she was too shy to sing out loud because Heather was afraid of sharing her singing voice, but that was okay, because Patti not only sang for her but she sings for all of us.

On Smith's new album Twelve, She not only sings for us but she handpicks some of her favorite songs and reinterprets them with her unique power and glory. She starts off by taking on one of America's giants and the best guitarist that ever lived, Jimi Hendrix. Patti singing "Are you Experienced" is the perfect introduction to Twelve. Lenny Kaye's slow chord procession turns Jimi's song into a bluesy tribute to Hendrix. I like the way she adds her own poetic scat calls in between Jimi's familiar lyrics. Patti takes over this song like a poetic priestess as she recaptures the spirit of the sixties on her soulful and tripped out version of this Hendrix classic.

Patti follows "Experienced" with a unique choice by covering Tears for Fears' "Everybody Wants to Rule the World." Smith and her band do a straightforward, traditional version of this Roland Orzabal composition, and this is probably one of the only missteps on this stellar record. I would have loved it if Patti would have turned this '80s pop treasure into a post modern acoustic classic. The only part of this song that stands out is Lenny's cool guitar riffs before the final coda. "Helpless" follows and Patti slows it down with a beautiful interpretation of this Neil Young gem. This version is akin to the Ryan Adams/Gillian Welch take that I so adore. I love how sweet Patti's voice sounds as she croons like a chanteuse stranded by the side of the road serenading the stars.

Patti and her band turn the Stones' "Gimmie Shelter" into the 21st anthem that is needed in these turbulent and violent times that echo the era in which the song was born. This track is my personal favorite on the collection. With Kaye's revolutionary riffs and Smith's howling vocals, this is Patti's urging to the masses to rise up for our disappearing rights and fight for our country that we love and believe in. As she sings, "it's just a shout away," we believe her. It makes me want to run into the streets with my brothers and sisters. That's the power of Patti.

Next comes, a fitting tribute to former Beatles legend George Harrison on "Within You Without You." Ever since, the Love compilation came out, I can't hear this song without also hearing the music of "Tomorrow Never Knows" in the background. It starts off with an acoustic version mixed with some sweet percussion and piano keys instead of the sitars that float through the original. Patti does her best to take it back and succeeds with a version that even Harrison would not only approve of, but might even love from above. Patti Smith's take on "White Rabbit" begins with an In Excelsis Deo type of introduction. I love the way that the drum fills sound like one of the three member revolutionary war marchers pounding with their sticks instead of announcing the arrival of an army, these drums signal the coming of Patti Smith and her timeless reading that rivals Grace Slick's vocals in the original.

If you're a true Patti fan than you know that Smith loves herself some Doors. Patti and her band put the "Soul" in Morrison's "kitchen" in this sweet version of song from the debut album from The Doors. I would have preferred Patti include an acoustic cover of "Crystal Ship." You can find an extraordinary live cover of that one on the net. Search for it, you will thank me for this. One of the most original covers on Twelve has to be the banjo flavored strumming of Nirvana's "Smells like Teen Spirit." I love the fact that this version sounds nothing like the original. I so got sick of this song as it became the slacker anthem for the Grunge generation. Patti makes this Cobain classic her very own. I believe that Smith's version is even better than the original. I adore the violin strings playing throughout as Patti shares some more of her poetic improvisations before the final chorus as the band builds up to this climax. I imagine Cobain smiling from the Heavens hearing Patti's take on his most infamous song. She did Kurt and Nirvana proud on this song.

Twelve is an amazing album, offering interpretations of works from a plethora of artists who have helped shaped the voice and spirit of one of our generation's everlasting artists. I think it's fitting, for Patti Smith has inspired countless bands including R.E.M. and The Smiths, who named their band in her honor. I love Patti because she's brave and inspires me with her words in both politics and poetry.

Even though Twelve is a triumph, I have one request of Patti. I would love for her to release a box set of live shows, like the Stages collection that Hendrix estate released in the 1990s. Why you ask? Unless you have seen Patti live you're only getting half of the experience. Patti in concert is the real thing. I remember when I first heard this amazing live version of "Gloria." I am not talking about the one we all know from her brilliant debut Horses, there's another version that blows that one out of the hemisphere. The one I am talking about is from a live show sometime in the '70s that has just Patti and features the amazing guitar stylings of one Lenny Kaye. This version of "Gloria," that I am writing about, is unavailable anywhere on any official release, and is the best version of "Gloria" ever captured on tape. Better than Van Morrison or The Doors. I love the way Patti comes alive as she sings this song with only a guitar as her guide. It's like a rock orgasm coming to life. And at the end all you want is a cigarette and to press play and relive it all over again.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
05.24.2007

Best Song Ever: Review: Bjork/Sugarcubes "Birthday"

My Bjork/Sugarcubes song review can be found (click here) on treblezine.com



"Birthday"
Sugarcubes
Life's Too Good
Elektra
1988

The Sugarcubes' "Birthday" is the quintessential Björk single. It has all of her trademark qualities, her sexy shriek, the vivid imagery and otherworldly lyrics that we have come to know and love. "Birthday" is the song that started it all, the one that introduced a tiny Icelandic chanteuse to the world. I fell in love with her and her orgasmic howl when I first saw the video on MTV's 120 Minutes.

Even though I feel Homogenic is Björk's best album as a whole, "Birthday" will always be my favorite individual song. The thing is, besides The Smiths "Unhappy Birthday," Björk created one of the most original songs to relate to one's birthday. The lyrics are filled with childhood wonder and imagination through the eyes of a youngster looking forward to that joyous day, so it seems anyhow. I love the little descriptions of what the child's eccentric hobbies as she sings—"Thread worms on a string/ keeps spiders in her pockets/ collects fly-wings in a jar/ scrubs horse-flies and pinches them on a line." I feel like we know this character, she's an outsider and a loner who has only one friend in the world who she goes to visit and they listen to the weather. This is the magic of Björk her words and her voice. She creates these worlds with these characters that we all can relate to.

But towards the end of the song "Birthday" takes this ominous turn.

"Today is a birthday
They're smoking cigars,
He's got a chain of flowers,
And sews a bird in her knickers,

They're smoking cigars,
They lie in the bathtub,
A chain of flowers."

To me, it sounds more like a girl literally coming of age with this romantic crush on an eccentric hippie man living next door. I don't get the impression of any wrong doing but "Birthday" ends sort of vague. (It actually sounds like Bjork is singing "they're smoking seagulls" instead of cigars which, I prefer, and would have worked with the raven and bird imagery in the coda of the song.)

It turns out that it is the old man's birthday and not the little girl's. I guess the confusion I find is in the meaning of the last five lines. What does chain of flowers mean? What exactly is sewing a bird on her knickers? But, Björk has said about the song— "When I was a kid, all old men that influenced me sort of erotically, without doing anything, really. Men at 50 and stuff like that. But, you know, without doing anything ... so that's the feeling."

This is the power of her sound and lyrical vision. Björk is not afraid to tackle subjects that most artists wouldn't dare attempt to sing about. This merely drives home my point that "Birthday" is her best song. From the start, Björk is not singing about ordinary love she's challenging us with lyrics and melodies that at first might seem rosy, but after further exploration we realize have serious thorns in them. And the thorns are something that Björk loves writing and howling about. We have enough singers who croon about the roses, Björk loves to sing about the other side of life and love, the darkness, the confusion and the doubt we all may feel as we trip around life searching for the perfect beat to call our own.

"Birthday" has a Velvet Underground kind of vibe that Lou Reed would have loved. Unlike most popular singers, Björk is not one to conform to any one specific style or theme. She creates innovative worlds with her trademark voice and ever evolving chameleonic style; there is nothing this artist cannot do. Björk is our generation's Bowie, but, you know, female.

"Birthday" was only the beginning and is the ideal place to start for the novice Björk fan in your life. Now we have a canon of songs and albums to guide us on our journey. Listen to the beauty and the howl, and let her in. You will be challenged and forever changed.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
2007

Review: Tori Amos: American Doll Posse

my Tori Amos review can be found on treblezine.com

Tori Amos
American Doll Posse
Epic
2007

I remember being just out of college, working at a Borders in San Antonio, and there were a whole bunch of us Toriphiles working together. Tori was coming to town for her Choirgirl Hotel tour, so our store had come up with a writing contest, for which we employees were ineligible, and the winner would receive two tickets to the show. Our prizes for being judges were personally autographed pictures of Tori Amos. Mine was a picture of Tori wearing this freaked out costume over this abstract art-like bed. One of my co-workers saw the pictures and said. "She must not have that many friends…" "Why?" I responded. "Because a real friend wouldn't let her wear that or go out in an outfit like that."

That was funny but very poignant when it comes to artists who have too much creative control. I believe that some of the best artists surround themselves with yes men and women who are so relieved to be in the artist's inner circle that they are afraid to reflect some much needed constructive criticism when needed to reel in their egos on record, on stage or on the silver screen. Who's to say if great artists and thespians like Brando and even Michael Jackson would have been like if they had bullshit detectors in their professional posses? Worse yet, what happens to artists is when they become stars they lose touch with their audiences. At the beginning of their careers they seem to be in touch with their fans, being starving artists, themselves, but when they climb to the top some seem to lose that artistic hunger.

This brings me back to Tori Amos and her new album American Girl Posse. Tori combats this creative struggle by creating lyrical personas to reflect some of her most extraordinary and explosive songs in recent memory. The characters she uses are the sensual and Aphrodite-esque Santa; the documentarian with a revolutionary spirit Isabel; the eccentric artist Clyde searching for souls of people underneath their masks; Pip, the Glam rocker who resembles the dark side of Amos back in her days of Y Kant Tori Read. And then there's Tori herself who as a while has created her most challenging and most convoluted record since Boys for Pele. There are some exciting and excellent songs, and yet there are some of her most frustrating missteps committed to vinyl.

One of my favorite tracks finds Isabel singing about "The Madness of King George" on her anti-Bush song, "Yo George." I have lost interest in these, now cliché, Bush bashing songs that been released by everyone from Neil Young to Bright Eyes. But Isabel's song is a simple little piano ditty without anger, just a soft and honest vocal using her words to voice her displeasure of our least popular President in history. The first track "Big Wheel" is a killer song, one of my favorites on the album, sung sexily by Amos. It has a kind of country-meets-rock sound, with hints of a waltz thrown in with her sultry lyrics, "I'm an M-I-L-F don't you forget." It rocks and is one that will linger in your subconscious long after Posse has ended.

Isabel strikes back at "Mr. Bad Man" in another stellar track just as sweet as "Yo George" with a little more syrup on top. It's catchier, but just as memorable as she sings "But everyday I know that I may just be closer to the sea of frozen words that even soldiers would lay down their swords for." Isabel's wish is that her words will spark a revolution in the heads and hearts of the armed and the powerful everywhere. Clyde sings "Girl Disappearing" with stirring strings floating all the way through this beautiful song that would have fit perfectly on Under the Pink. She sings "the girl's right in front of me, this girl's disappearing to some secret prison."

I also love Santa's "Secret Spell," which is the best song R.E.M. never recorded. You can practically hear Michael Stipe singing this song with Mike Mills's backing harmonies and Peter Buck jamming his riffs on this song. Which leaves me wondering why didn't Santa/Tori ask Stipe to sing/duet on this amazing song that has hit single written all over it? And by the way, whatever happened to the Amos/Stipe collaboration "It Might Hurt a Bit," originally scheduled for release way back for the Don Juan Demarco soundtrack? Will we this unreleased gem ever be set free for all Tori-philes to relish in its magic and beauty?

Oh well, where was I? Back to the Posse…

Isabel's my favorite Tori persona on Posse, as she has the most memorable tracks and this little one, "Devils and Gods" might just be the best one of the album. I call this Tori's ode to her childhood muse and idol Robert Plant. It's sort of her very own personalized version of Led Zep's "Battle of Evermore." Short, haunting and brilliant, it appears like a lingering, lyrical apparition that inspires and gives one the chills.

Of Tori's many new personalities, Pip is a big disappointment for me; "Teenage Hustling" and "Fat Slut" bring the album down and remind me of outtakes from Y Kant Tori Read. It's hard to take hair metal riffs on a Tori song, which is most of what you hear on the backing tracks of the Pip-fronted tracks. The only exception is the powerful anthem "Body and Soul." I love Pip's `hear me roar' vocal as she sings "In my temple boy be warned violence doesn't have a home now but ecstasy that's as pure as a woman's gold." Using her seductive love instead of religion to cure the world's evil is a very enticing idea that has resonance outside the confines of this amazing recording.

Posse ends with a bang, starting with the Italian Mandolin riffs on Pip's Godfather-esque "Velvet Revolution." Then there's Isabel, my girl, singing "Is there a way out of this, if there is a way I don't see it?" on her anti-Iraqi war song "Dark Side of the Sun." Pip redeems herself with an eerie track "Smokey Joe" which would find a home inside of my favorite Tori album From The Choirgirl Hotel. She sings about being in an abusive relationship, and when Smokey Joe calls she's afraid of not picking up and letting him in again. Tori sings the inevitable question that one in this unhealthy love affair asks, "I did not ask for this/ `Oh but Love yes you did.'"

There is so much in American Girl Posse that it can be exhausting, but the journey inside the many personas of Tori Amos is well worth it. There's a bit too much filler on here, mostly by Pip, and some of her tracks would have fit well as her own EP or even as b-sides. Nonetheless, it's nice to hear the voice of the chanteuse that won our hearts long ago. That voice of power and beauty brings me back to the day I finally met Tori, when I lived in New Orleans. I was on my way to work and I saw her doing a photo shoot in front of my favorite used record store, Magic Bus. I ran into my boss's office and begged him for his camera. I went back to the street, got my nerve and asked Tori if I could take a picture. As I was about to snap a photo, she sweetly asked me—"Would you like to take a picture with me?" So now I have a cool photo of me and Tori Amos. What was she like, you ask? As I listen to Posse, I feel like she embodied all of these characters rolled into one, very eccentric and intense, but also a very kind soul.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
05.09.2007

Review: Grinderman: Grinderman

my Grinderman review can be found on treblezine.com

Grinderman
Grinderman
2007
Anti/Mute

I don't think it's a coincidence that a movie called Grindhouse and a record by a band called Grinderman were released a week apart. Furthermore, both address the state of the modern man in their own creative ways. With the emergence of stay at home dads, metro-sexuality and bisexuality, the old school image of man has been stripped of all his traditional masculinity. We've not only seen it in our society but in pop culture like in our movies and literature with the Rob Gordons of the world and the emergency of the emo generation, boys wearing girls' jeans; the idea of the sensitive male had taken over the world.

When did this happen? How has the macho man been castrated and vilified in our society? When did a man looking like me, thin and with only brain muscle become the ideal for the modern woman? When I was growing up I couldn't get a date to save my life. The guys in my school were all taking steroids to pump themselves up to be noticed by the girls in my school. Nowadays, if you're a man and you have too much muscle you're seen as a freak, just as I was seen not so long ago, being the skinny male.

Would I call this a revolution or step back for evolution? Good question; I like to think of myself in the Nick Cave camp, a new breed of the evolved man who's a lover and a fighter. While Grindhouse was all about girl power, Grinderman is about putting the man back on top in this age of political correctness or as Frank T.J. Mackey so eloquently said in Magnolia, it's time to bring respect to the cock again. And who better to bring that respect back then Nick Cave?

Nick Cave gets some help with his band of banditos: Warren Ellis, Martyn Casey and Jim Sclavunos, all of them styled in their old school Western beards and mutton chops straight out of the characters from Nick Cave's film The Proposition, the testosterone blood bath of a movie that I believe inspired the creation of this band. Taking a monetary sabbatical from The Bad Seeds, Cave decided to harness all of this male energy with this project. Under the advice of side man Ellis, Cave attempted to write songs that didn't deal with God or Love. The result is Grinderman.

Grinderman begins with a announcement by Cave "I've got to get up to get down and start all over again….kick all of those mother fuckers out and get it on." And so we begin. "Get It On" is the symbolic unearthing of the traditional man by the Grinderman: "He's got some words of wisdom/I've got some words of wisdom…get it on." The lyrics are primal and mostly improvisational, something Cave hasn't done since his days at the helm of The Birthday Party.

The first single is "No Pussy Blues," a quintessential Grinderman track which relates to the theme of the album. The essence of the Grinderman is all about this song. "I read her Eliot I read her Yates I did my best to stay up late/I fixed the hinges on her gate but still she never wanted to." As the band grinds its way with their dynamic fuzz guitar riffs, pounding drum beats and killer bass lines, Cave reads off the reasons the girl on his mind has rejected him. "I got the no pussy blues…" Cave roars over and over again with the primordial beats behind him. From the romantic to the rugged, we've all been there, guys. Cave brings to life how it feels to be rejected by the one we longed to pleasure with every measure of his lyrical flare, and he brings us back there to these moments in a way that only Nick Cave can sing. Ellis, Casey and Sclavunos bring an aggression and give life to the Grinderman on songs like "Electric Alice." These guys provide the brawn to Cave's beat like lyrics, and Grinderman wouldn't work without these men behind our mythic frontman.

"Yes I am the Grinderman, yes I am…in my pale moonlight…in the silver rain…anyway I can," Cave croons at the end of "Grinderman" as the riffs come out to howl at the moon. The guitar sounds like an extension in the agony of the man. The man who is aching to be free for the yearning for expressing his primal love to thee, the one in his heart, in his sights that is what I believe the Grinderman is. A mythical creature brought to life by Cave and his gang of outlaw cronies.

"I saw you walking down on the street/I called out from the window but you didn't hear me," Cave sings on "Don't Set Me Free," like an inverse Romeo calling out to his Juliet from his own window. Casey's bass line brings this song to life, echoing the chase of the man trying to woo the woman in his dreams. As Cave achingly sings "I don't want you to set me free," it's as if he wants the idea of their connection to linger to beat on in his head and in his dreams. "We've done our thing/we have evolved," Nick Cave sings on "Go Tell The Women," "But we are tired/we're hardly breathing and we're free, go tell the women that we're leaving." This song is essentially a list of reasons why some men have given up on women, becoming celibate creative creatures who have turned their energies from the search for women into their craft and trade.

It has been ages since an artist like Nick Cave and a band like Grinderman has sung the awful, yet endlessly amusing truth about the struggles of being a lustful man into these disconnected and lonely times. Grinderman wants us to celebrate the essence in ourselves as hungry men and ride our snakes inside the gardens of our prospective Edens. So what if we're difficult and have trouble communicating? We're men. We are fearless, we are foolish, we're hard and we're loud. Cave is our leader in the world of Grinderman, making us proud and lending an invitation to crank it up and let it all hang out.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
04.18.2007

Review: Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds: Abattoir Blues Tour (live)

my Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds review can be found on treblezine.com

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
The Abattoir Blues Tour (Live)
2007
Mute
I've never been to a Nick Cave concert, but if this Abattoir Blues double DVD/CD combo is any indication of what's in store for me when I do, I'd gladly sell a kidney to have the honor of seeing Australia's most infamous export on stage. Seeing Nick Cave swaying around like a mad preacher singing his gospel-like blues to his congregation of fans is like witnessing a man exorcizing his demons on this grand stage.

Nick Cave has always been like a Gemini-like artist and his style is akin to one of his idols, Johnny Cash. In this live setting you will discover all sides of Cave, from the devoted husband, preacher clergyman to the outlaw killer. And sometimes you get all three in the same song. He's dynamic, fiery and holds nothing back in this concert.

The main difference between Cash and Cave, besides the fact that Nick is not American, is that, while Johnny conquered his demons alone, Cave has his Bad Seeds as his posse backing him up on stage. And the Seeds are just as electrifying as their leader. You can see and feel how Nick sings, dances and plays off the energy of his band—even his backing vocalists. Each one is an intricate part of the Bad Seeds. Something you will discover when you watch one of the many extras in this explosive DVD/CD collection.

My favorite member of the Bad Seeds has to be violinist Warren Ellis. Ever since Blixa Bargeld left the band after the Nocturama sessions, Ellis has been Cave's right hand man. I see Ellis as a Paganini type string player. (The same one made infamous in Stephen Davis' Zep bio Hammer of the Gods) Niccolò Paganini was a violinist in the late 1700s that not only lived the life of the rock star but single-handedly changed the art of the violin. Ellis is much like this. Not many violin players could share the stage with a rock band and, not only shine, but even steal the show. All you have to do is watch and hear Ellis hunched over on his little stage, during "Stagger Lee," like a beast ready to be awoken and to explode with his strings of fury. Ellis plays like Paganini, a man equally possessed as Cave while delivering string arrangements that are both devilish and beautiful sounding.

There's something for everyone in this collection. For the Classic Cave fan or the New School Nick scholar, both sides are reflected in this amazing DVD/CD set. The first DVD, my personal favorite, was recorded at the Brixton Academy in London. This one has the best tracks from Blues/Orpheus set, the best being "Hiding All Away;" this showcases the best of The Bad Seeds and Cave live. Sit back and see how one of the best tracks from the album comes alive on this amazing stage.

You will also see classic cuts performed like a revamped and must see and hear 21st Century version of "Red Right Hand," see Cave plays piano with one hand as he smokes a cigarette with the other during "God is in the House" and the spectacular set closer "Stagger Lee." Just press play and prepare yourself to be blown away by the decadent power of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.

The second DVD, filmed in 2003, has more material from Nocturama including a stellar version of "Bring it On" featuring Chris Bailey on vocals. The highlights of this DVD are the extras, which include a short film on the recording of Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus; A documentary on "The Bring it On" video shoot and a plethora of promotional videos.

The CD's are basically the best performances from the Abattoir Blues tour. It's not jut one show like the DVD. The track listing is similar to the first show but the CD's add two of my favorite Cave classics, "The Weeping Song" and "Deanna." There's so much material visually and audio wise to discover here on both DVD/CD's of Abattoir Blues that you will want and need to revisit his live Nick Cave experience again and again.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
04.11.2007

Review: Lucinda Williams: West

my Lucinda Williams review can be found on treblezine.com

Lucinda Williams
West
2007
Lost Highway

When I lived in New Orleans, all of my barfly buddies—Musician mates, artists and poet friends—all of us had a crush on Lucinda Williams. We would all stay up late smoking cigarettes herbal and otherwise, drinking and musing all the reasons we loved Lucinda. Every bar had Lucinda's CDs in their jukeboxes and we would spend as many quarters playing songs off Sweet Old World and Car Wheels on a Gravel Road as we did drinking shots and toasts to her. Even now when I hear her singing it brings me back to those nights in one of the many hidden French Quarter bars I would frequent. We would sit into the early Louisiana morning hours scribbling drunken odes on bar napkins as she serenaded us with songs like "Can't Let Go,", we imagined, she was singing to each one of us. All of her songs are forever engraved with happy memories of my years of New Orleans.

It's fitting that, Williams being a Louisiana native, I have a bond with N.O. But it wasn't until her new album West that I truly connected with the voice I have been longing for all of these years. There is something about a strong independent artistic woman that has always intrigued, attracted and inspired me emotionally and creatively. Now add Southern-born to this equation and there's an even bigger spark. Lucinda has the intricate voice that's altogether achingly beautifully, poetic, raw and honest that I long for in an artistic and romantic companion. With a unique voice, Williams would sometimes be known as the female Dylan, but like some artists, a-la KD Lang, her prior albums did sound a bit too polished and overproduced. This is something that has haunted Williams throughout her career. Even though her albums have won critical acclaim, industry awards and legion of devoted following, there was something missing. They were a little too perfect—what was missing was a little southern imperfection in Lucinda's brilliance.

This brings us to West, the album that I have been waiting for Lucinda Williams to make all of her career. Lucinda's voice comes out clearer and with more sincerity than on any album before. I believe this has a lot to do with her collaboration with producer Hal Wilner, famous for his production work with Marianne Faithfull, Lou Reed, Elvis Costello, Beat poet/writers Allen Ginsberg and William S. Burroughs and even produced Hole's My Body, The Hand Grenade. I add this because many a night someone would walk into one of our French Quarter Bars and ask us why were we playing a countrified Hole record. Many novices to Lucinda Williams claim that she sounds like Courtney Love. When in reality, Love wishes she had the gift of poetical rhyme and artistic seasonings that Lucinda carries like a southern chanteuse; when she sings her whole essence comes to life on record. Nothing is left out, after hearing Lucinda sing you can't help but feel as though she has left her blood and tears sprinkled through the verses of her songs.

Some die-hard Lucinda fans might be turned off with the sound of West, as it's a bit out of her alt-country range into a more soulful, post-modern acoustic blues record. There are splashes of her folk-tinged sound that we all know and love but there's more of a move to a modern electric, much like Dylan did in the '60s when he moved away from the acoustic folk songs he was known for. Lucinda shouldn't expect that kind or any major backlash, but to me there's a sense of bravery for taking a risk like this. Reflecting a move away from the South and toward California during the making of this new album, the themes of this record touch upon a search for personal freedom and rejuvenation by starting over and coming to terms with loss, whether it be a death or an end of a relationship and dealing with loneliness and misplaced love. I kind of wish this album would have come out before I moved to California, as now, West is a set of songs that seems to reflect the emotional upheaval of my new life.

The first single is the bluesy ode to a former love that asks the question "Are You Alright." In this song, Lucinda just wants to know—"that you're ok." She's looking for a clue or a hint that there's still a chance of reconciliation by asking—"Are you Alright?" There's a sense of longing through out this song that comes out in the blues riffs and the melodic backing vocals that pull you from the chorus and never let you go. I hear "Mama my Sweet" as her modern day version of Elvis' classic "That's Alright Mama," his first recording at Sun Studios. Lucinda's version is more poetic, with verses like "Oceans becomes tears/that ebb and flow over the lines in my face." It's a lyrical lament that Lucinda dedicates to her Mother (who recently passed away), and "Mama my Sweet" is a fitting tribute.

"Learning How to Live" is a song that I hear as one dealing with a loss of a flame in one's life. But I also believe this is another song that Lucinda wrote for her Mother as Lucinda sings "I'll take the best of what you had to give and I'll make the most of what you left me with/ I'm learning how to live." Either way, this song is about dealing with a passing, whether be a lover or a family member. You can hear the influence of Lucinda's poet father Miller throughout most of the tracks on West. More than just lyrics, the words lift from the page and from the song and can live and breathe on their own. Just like Dylan's, Williams' words have a life of their own away from record. It's more than just a song; her lyrics are poetic paintings that live in our ears and in our own aches long after the album has ended.

"Unsuffer Me" is a modern blues that come alive with the pounding backbeat of Jim Keltner's drums. Echoing the sound of an aching heart beating with memories of a lost love, Lucinda sings "unsuffer me/take away the pain." We have all been there, waiting for the pain to subside so we can breathe, laugh and learn to love again. Lucinda brings all of this agony to life as the strings and the echoing guitars reflect the stages of dealing with the grief of being alone again. "Everything Has Changed" is a song that would fit perfectly in any of Lucinda's albums of yesteryear, a southern soaked folk song that finds Lucinda singing, "I can't find my joy anywhere." Throughout the song she's searching for the faith that she has lost, and as she sings, "everything has changed" you can feel her conviction.

"Come On" is a punky, country kiss off anthem, in which Lucinda sings over the electric riffs of Bill Frisell. This is one of the songs that the diehards may have trouble with. Lucinda has never sounded this bitter, and as she rages along with the organ and the banging drums, you can feel her smashing her former flame to bits: "I'm sorry I ever flirted/ the effort was even concerted/ you didn't even make me come on." I love the Scarlett Rivera-esque violin playing on "Where is My Love" by Williams stalwart Jenny Scheinman, which also echoes a Warren Ellis vibe as Lucinda sings "Is my love in Tupelo…knowing things he shouldn't do/ and giving away what he can't use." Lucinda sings of all the places where she has been reflecting on all the loves that could have been. She searches for a love that is not there but lives in these verses like a bluesy prayer.

The end of West soars toward legendary. This is the part of the album where Lucinda is her most honest and brave, beginning with "Rescue," which uses an E Street Band-like rhythmic backbeat, Scheinman's violin carrying the song with her hopeful strings as they are matched by Frisell's bluesy riffs. Williams' vocals echo back to her as if she's singing in a canyon or mountain edge, crooning to the heavens on how her man will never save her. "Wrap Your Head Around That" starts off with some studio chatter as Lucinda prepares to sing on her most musically ambitious track. Think of this as Southern trip-hop blues as Keltner's drums keep the urban wasteland backbeat, while Williams speaks over Frisell's free forming riffs. This is something that Wilner's done before with Burroughs, Ginsberg, Reed; And now Lucinda continues the tradition of spoken word intensity that shines as she sings "I know what I think I saw/and what I thought I'd seen/ and what was coming and what was going/ and everything in between." It's a departure but a success.

"Words" has to be my favorite song on West. It's Lucinda sounding her most delicate as she sings "I would rather suffer in sweet silent solitude…between the lips of your beautiful mouth." I hear "Words" as the personifying how a writer sees his muse. Lucinda brilliantly brings inspiration to life when she sings so eloquently, "When my words enjoy the feel of the paper /better mingling with your consonants/ once they get going, they never waver/ and they slip in between your ifs, ands and buts." The record ends perfectly with the title track, a reflective ode to a hopeful future as Lucinda sings "Who knows what the future holds/or the cards may fall…you'll never know." I hear this song and I think of driving down the old Route 66—it's a tribute to traditional idea of California, of coming west to follow your heart and your dreams through the desert to the ocean.

West is the direction where Lucinda Williams is headed and where I live now, and fittingly, I can easily identify with its many themes. There is pain and heartache but there is also a sense of hope, a sound of freedom and rebirth in these songs. I never felt alone when I spent my first California Valentine's Day along with Lucinda singing to me, because West is the sound of an artist in a creative rebirth. Lucinda Williams may have caught my ear back in New Orleans, but this year she captured my heart with her lyrical musings on this musical journey out West that will never expire.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
02.20.2007

Best Oscar Song Ever: Review: Nirvana "Something in the Way"

My Nirvana song review can be found on treblezine.com

"Something in the Way"
By Nirvana
From Jarhead (2005)

Jarhead is one of the best modern day anti-war films and the first honest portrayal of American servicemen in Iraq, Jake Gyllenhaal portraying the protagonist and the voice of the movie. It's a coming of age movie of a solider in a war where nothing much happens but the aching stain of loneliness. These guys are trying not go stir crazy while staring at the burning sunlight reflecting from the empty Iraqi desert as these soldiers wait for a battle that never comes. My favorite scene comes with the use of Nirvana's "Something in the Way" as a reflection of the mindset of Jarhead after his girlfriend has sent him a Dear John letter. He's dealing with being stranded in a Middle Eastern country and he feels disconnected with the rest of his unit. He is on the verge of major depression for being heartbroken and homesick away from a life that seems distant and further away as the days pass in the desert.

As the camera pans and you see the expressions on Jarhead as he tries to keep his head straight, you can feel the tears, the hurt and the aching as he covers his hands over his head, hiding out trying not to share his vulnerable side with his fellow grunts. You sense it, he's about to lose it. And now one better than Kurt Cobain can echo these sentiments as you hear Kurt singing, "Something in the way…yeah" it's as if he's hovering above and singing for Jarhead. The song was made for this once scene and this movie. You feel his pain and as Kurt sings you hear the hurting in Cobain's voice. It's a perfect match for the character played so brilliant, stoically and eloquently by Gyllenhaal.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
2007

Best Oscar Song Ever: Review: Nina Simone "Who knows where the time goes"

My Nina Simone song review can be found on treblezine.com

"Who Knows Where The Time Goes?"
By Nina Simone
From The Dancer Upstairs (2002)

I remember watching The Dancer Upstairs while I lived alone in New Orleans, the summer of 2002, and while I enjoyed the film, it's the song after the opening credits that will continue to live on in my memories. The opening scene is set in a pick up truck with three people driving through the mountains with darkness surrounding them. In the car, the only light is coming from the car stereo, which is playing Nina Simone. The first thing you hear before any dialogue is uttered in the film is a lengthy monologue by Simone. After Nina finishes her speech and one of the men in the car turns to the other one and asks, "Why does she talk so much?" The quiet man looks at him and replies—"she's getting ready to sing." It's hard not to relate to that one line of dialogue, the introduction by Nina and the song itself. Watching the movie again, it reflects where I am in my own life and how I connect with the characters in the film. In the movie, the characters are ready to sing, they are ready to tell their own story and that's how I feel.

Starting a movie off with a song like "Who Knows Where the Time Goes" is a thing of brilliance and a perfect example of blending music and film. It can be heard with sad ears but to me it's a song of reflection. It's a song about the choices we have made and where time has shown us the glories we have seen and the mistakes we have overcome. All of this is brought to life by Nina's haunting yet beautiful vocal. The themes of The Dancer Upstairs reflect on how the essence of time affects the choices that the characters make in the film. Time is a character, time is alive and time is something that is uncontrollable. At the end when the main character played by Javier Bardem makes a choice, it is time that will haunt him till the very end. After watching how the characters deal with the choices they made in the film helped me realize that it's what we do with our chances and choices in our own lives that make us who we are— and that time a reflection and a guide in our life. –

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
2007

Review: Kristin Hersh: Learn to Sing like a Star

my Kristin Hersh review can be found on treblezine.com

Kristin Hersh
Learn to Sing like a Star
2007
Yep Roc

I had the honor of seeing Throwing Muses open up for New Order in 1989. One of the best opening acts I have ever seen, The Muses held their own in front of a crowd that was waiting for the electro-new wave sounds of New Order. Hersh rocked, soothed and mesmerized the crowd with her songs and her band, which, at the time, included the very tripped out Tanya Donnelly (who couldn't stop staring at me, and this impressionable seventeen year old thought that Tanya was given him the sexy ojo—my buddy burst my ego when he told me that she was tripping on acid. If only…)

What I remember most about that night besides Tanya looking my way was the way that Hersh commanded the stage in her bright purple dress. She had this confidence, this alluring sensuality, this power when she sang. It was as if she demanded your attention and everyone gave it to her, deservedly so. She won over the crowd singing lyrics like "So you freeze/ I make frozen into heat/What can I tell you/ That you'll believe" from "Tar Kissers."

Eighteen years later, I realize as my WMA player randomly played Kristin Hersh on shuffle, that she's like a post-modern Patti Smith (It's no wonder that Smith's guitarist Lenny Kaye produced her first album Hips and Makers). Just listen to Kristin's eloquently powerful voice. It's all in her phrasing, in her cigarette stained vocals and poetic layers of perpetual beauty and sadness on Learn to Sing like a Star that I feel bring her into the same league of punk chanteuse as Smith.

Learn to Sing like a Star is the ultimate Kirstin Hersh recording—she sounds fearless, confident and free. I feel like it's the album that she's been aching to make her whole career. Just listen to the lyrics from "The Thin Man": "Fireworks for you in the ozone snow/ we're just a little lonely/ did you break the promise half asleep/ did you make a promise you couldn't keep?" Her words are like colors lifting pictures into masterful strokes of rhymes and allusions that stick to you, leave you lingering there listening, wanting to hear more. She has a certain mystery about her, in that you never know exactly what she's singing about. And that's precisely what I love about her. Her songs are like universal lyrical puzzles that allow you reflect and connect your own experiences with her dream-like lyrics.

My favorite line from Learn to Sing Like a Star comes from the opening track "In Shock": "when the music's loud, the mouth you are seeking finds your mouth, we are wanted." After a few spins, I felt like Hersh was singing for me in continuous harmony. I promise you, from the opening riffs of "In Shock" you will be hooked. I love the blending of the strings with the guitars; it's like an electric lullaby. "Nerve Endings" begins with a haunting acoustic solo guitar and the song sounds like musical ode to a Paulo Coelho character, Veronikka (from his book Veronikka Decides to Die.) When Hersh sings, "put a rock into my brain/I feel almost everything," I hear this song as a moonlit serenade to lost soul stirring inside their very own personal asylum.

"Winter" has an addictive backbeat, somewhat reminiscent of the Red Hot Chili Peppers' "Breaking the Girl," which shows that Hersh can rock with the best of them. Once again, the blending of strings with guitars and pounding drums as Kirstin asks the immortal question, "How do you talk again? I forgot/ like sand in naked flame." I also dig the way that Hersh throws in three instrumental pieces throughout Star. They make ideal transitions between the songs. I'm not ordinary a fan of songs without vocals, but "Christian Hearse," "Piano 1" and "Piano 2" are beautiful pieces that showcase Hersh's eclectic artistry.

Stars climaxes with "The Thin Man." Hersh sounds her most aching and decadent with distorted guitars in the background as she sings "We're just a little starving/ two feet away and can't reach." It's not just the words; it's the music that unifies Hersh's into an artistic statement of power, dedication and lyrical honesty as she finds her voice in an album that is already one of the most memorable of 2007. Learn to Sing Like a Star is not an album for the iPod generation; it requires a listen from start to finish without interruption. It's an album that asks you to dive in deep and discover the mystical muse inside of it. Take a breath as you take it all in. You will love the taste of the stars you feel from within.

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
02.06.2007