HUEY LEWIS AND THE NEWS – Soulsville

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This album of soul covers, containing material originally associated with the classic Stax label, represents the first new recorded works by Huey Lewis and The News since 2001’s ‘Plan B’ album. Interestingly, its UK release came during the same month as the re-release of ‘Back To The Future’ at the cinema – part of me thinks this may not have been a coincidence.

If you take a closer look at Huey Lewis and The News’s back catalogue, amongst the good-time pop-rock belters, you’ll find plenty classic soul music influences – not least of all on tracks like ‘Doing It All For My Baby’, ‘Hope You Love Me Like You Say You Do’ and the monster hit ‘Stuck With You’ – so the idea of a soul covers album from these guys feels very natural. With Lewis’s voice as great as it ever was (the dictionary definition of professional performer) there was no doubt as to whether they could pull this off. There aren’t any moments during ‘Soulville’s fourteen cuts where you’d question their choice of song, but naturally, some covers are better suited to The News than others.

The journey through the band’s soul influences begins with a run through of the Wilson Pickett classic ‘Don’t Fight It (Feel It)’. The sound is slightly smoother than that of Pickett’s 1965 single, but the horn section is spot on and Sean Hopper’s organ parts have the necessary amount of retro cool to make them have a classic feel. Lewis takes the song and delivers a very natural performance, resisting temptation to change the vocal in any way. Naturally, it doesn’t match Pickett’s spiky delivery, but it’s a more than worthy cover. During Solomon Burke’s ‘Got To Get You Off My Mind’, Lewis’s vocal is an easy one – a match for the deliveries on his self-written soulful material – but it’s the tight horn section and the laid back drums which recreate most of the old soul sound. The band sounds fantastic on their version of ‘Don’t The Green Grass Fool You’ (originally recorded by Wilson Pickett in 1970) with Stef Burns capturing the smooth jazz influences in the lead guitar parts perfectly and the horns provide a great accompaniment to Bill Gibson’s upfront drums. The sax break is superb and Lewis’s vocals are effortless. John Pierce is the real hero of this number though: listen carefully – amongst all those more obvious attention grabbing elements, his bass runs are incredibly busy.

The much covered ‘Respect Yourself’ appears here with plenty of confidence and a sharp line on the electric piano. While Huey’s delivery is perfect and the backing vocal harmonies add the necessary amount of depth, it feels a little slow. It’s certainly lacking the sassy qualities of The Staple Singers’ classic 1971 version, but thankfully, is it isn’t as heavy handed as Joe Cocker’s slightly shouty take on this classic from 2002. Against the odds, the title cut (originally recorded by Isaac Hayes on the ‘Shaft’ soundtrack) rather suits Huey’s slightly husky tones. The News replicate the laid back musical arrangement of the original the best they’re able, but understandably due to 21st Century recording techniques, the end result sounds shinier than Hayes’s Stax recording. Of particular note here is Bill Gibson’s understated drum work, which does very little until the pre-chorus, at which point, it has a great live sound.

The treatment of Eddie Floyd’s ‘Never Found a Girl’ is a stand out. The smoothness of Floyd’s original cut – heavy on the harmonies and strings – has been given a little extra punch by the News. While still very respectful to the original, the piano part here is presented far higher in the mix; Sean Hopper contributes brilliant stabbing keys here, very complimentary to Huey’s vocal delivery. While the band is in good shape and the arrangement is pretty much note-for-note, a take on Rufus Thomas’s ‘Little Sally Walker’ falls short of the mark. While it could be argued the band sound like they’re having fun (and Lewis himself is relishing every line), that’s part of the problem – this version of ‘Little Sally Walker’ sounds like something Lewis would have delivered as part of his starring role in ‘Duets’, karaoke style. It’s not bad by any means, but it could’ve turned out better, even though it stood little to no chance of being as energetic as Thomas’s original. A version of Joe Tex’s ‘I Want To Do Everything For You’ highlights exactly why a soul covers record is a great vehicle for Huey Lewis and The News. The lead vocal is spot on, made even better by a decent harmony vocal (which although not quite a complete reproduction of the the original, is still a really good stab) and the band are equally on form. Stef Burns gets a brief chance to step away from rhythm guitar work and turn in a couple of quick leads. Even Lewis himself grabs the opportunity to whip out his harmonica for a solo.

Lewis steps down at the album’s close, allowing The News chance to really shine on a rendition of the Mar-Keys number ‘Grab This Thing’. Obviously, being a Mar-Keys track, it’s up to the horns to take front and centre stage – and the guys here are more than up to the task. The sax leads are attention grabbing without becoming aggressive and the accompanying rhythms are hard hitting, befitting of the classic Stax approach. There are a couple of great opportunities missed here though, since Sean Hopper doesn’t get to recreate the organ solo and Stef Burns, likewise, is restricted to rhythm work, choosing not to re-interpret Steve Cropper’s guitar solo. It’s over a minute shorter than the Mar-Key’s version and a tiny bit slower, but these are very minor complaints.

After nearly a decade without new material from Lewis and his News, it would have been so good for them to deliver a disc brimming with new compositions, maybe with a couple of these covers thrown in. But since that wasn’t to be, looking at ‘Soulsville’ for what it offers, it’s a decent record – and one which makes a good companion piece to their 1994 rock ‘n’ roll covers album, ‘Four Chords and Several Years Ago’. Do yourselves a big favour though: if you enjoyed this record, check out the original artists’ recordings of these songs if you haven’t already done so.

October 2010

Posted in pop

QUAKERS ON PROBATION – Every Living Thing

QOPQuakers on Probation is band comprised of father-son duo Daniel A. Craig and Daniel F. Craig, with bassist Graig Markel. Their self-titled disc is a release is given some weight by a helping hand from Larry Knechtel – a keyboardist and bassist, best known for being a member of Bread, as well as his session work with The Byrds, Simon & Garfunkel and The Beach Boys. In theory, having such a heavyweight session man on hand (and one who’d worked with some of Quakers on Probation’s influences) should have gone a fair way towards making this a decent record.

The opening number ‘Pay It Forward’ starts things on the right foot with a warmish sounding number which has an allusion to Buffalo Springfield and late period Byrds and maybe even a touch of The Hollies. Despite hinting at these classic influences, it’s a reasonable track rather than a great one, due to a rather flat arrangement (bar Knechtel’s keyboard work, providing the warmth) and an even flatter vocal delivery. Some of the lyrics are also quite spiteful: “all the zeroes who were buried alive / or burned at the stake / they rose reincarnate in your madness / and jumped from your cake / like ghosts singing ‘happy birthday fucker’ as you reached for your heart attack / you said if you pay it forward, I say pay it all back”. Those lines have such a vitriolic tone – the kind which may have amused John Lennon – but such anger seems very misplaced here. Also, it’s obvious that most of Quakers on Probation’s budget was spent on this number, since it’s one of only a couple of tracks to feature a real drummer.

‘Your Favourite Song’ continues in a similar style, but there’s something about the arrangement which has a more modern feel. The acoustic shuffle is reminiscent of the slightly more country influenced material from Evan Dando’s 2003 solo debut ‘Baby I’m Bored’, with an appealing use of steel guitar. Slightly more upbeat, but still optimising the country-pop twang, ‘Marysville’ has the kind of user-friendliness of Lowen & Navarro or The BoDeans (albeit their poorer songs) – and really ought to have been the kind of material Quakers on Probation concentrated on, since it’s so obviously what they’re best at. Although very basic, the purely acoustic ‘Yard Sale’ is okay too, despite sounding like a poor man’s Simon & Garfunkel…if they lacked their beautiful two part harmonies.

With the okay tracks out of the way, most of the rest of this album is filled by truly awful casiotone material which sounds like songs written by spoilt thirteen year olds. ‘I Know a Woman’ is a keyboard pop number which features really disgusting, lazy song writing, twisted from a rather drippy poem by Theodore Roethke. Sung rather flatly over some rudimentary keyboards, it’s then made even worse by the use of a trumpet (credited to Billy Joe Huels) which sounds over-processed and not unlike syntheisized brass. Frankly, it smacks of a bedroom recording that someone’s family thinks is great – although that’s honestly no reason to force it upon the rest of the world.

The title track lowers the bar even farther, being a samba, complete with actual synthesized brass. I hope Quakers on Probation are going for kitsch…but even so, this sounds like a poor approximation of a church duo, playing something with the charm of a Carpenters cast-off. No better, the drum machine two-step of ‘Hollywood Walk of Fame’ sounds like a karaoke demo. While some harmonies attempt to lift it from the depths of its emptiness, it’s really, really horrible.

‘Lament For the Aging Rocker’ fares slightly better at first, since it features a twin acoustic guitar approach that’s simple yet familiar. It then takes a turn for the worse… With a high, off key vocal, Daniel F makes what he thinks are amusing remarks about classic rock stars not having the edge they once did (Sammy Hagar’s cruise control set permanently on 55, are Def Leppard deaf etc). The line “Do you think Ozzy will outlive Dio” instantly reminds us all that Dio is gone, and despite the supposedly fun intentions, it’s a song now steeped in sadness. Honestly though, since Quakers on Probation have such a fondness for bad song writing wrapped up in casiotone filth, should they really be making fun of anyone? If I were them, I certainly wouldn’t be mocking Axl Rose or Tommy Lee

Included as a bonus track, a cover of the 1974 Sammy Johns US hit ‘Chevy Van’ closes the album. It’s a fitting way to finish, since Sammy Johns’s original hit was produced by Larry Knechtel. The addition of guest vocalist Colin Spring improves things a great deal and the use of mandolin here, although predictable, has a great retro sound. Perhaps more importantly, by the song’s end, it’s immediately clear that ‘Chevy Van’ is much better than nearly all of Quakers on Probation’s self-written material…

Sadly, Larry Knechtel passed away during post production on this album. Since Larry played on The Beach Boys’ ‘Pet Sounds’, Simon & Garfunkel’s ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’, various albums by The Monkees and Duane Eddy, among other things, this is such an unfitting epitaph…it’s probably up there with Orson Welles and his final film being  the animated ‘Transformers: The Movie’.

A couple of okay numbers aside, this is an appalling album – not falling too far short of being a terrible waste of plastic. …And to think, reading the band’s (self-written) press release, it actually sounds like something that you’d really want to listen to, with Quakers on Probation being likened to The Jayhawks and Wilco! I hope to Christ that Gary Louris and Jeff Tweedy never find out their fantastic reputation has been sullied in this way.

October 2010

BRIAN WILSON – Reimagines Gershwin

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Having one of pop music’s master craftsmen arrange and record an album of tunes by one of the world most celebrated pre-pop songwriters is a bit like one of those social experiments where twelve children are fed a bunch of E-numbers and then left to play together. It was never likely to be boring, but there was always the possibility that it could get a bit out of control.

With the help of his trusty band, Brian takes classic Gershwin numbers (including two unfinished by Gershwin at the time of his death) and twists them into his own image; on a basic level, you’ll probably have a grasp of what it’ll sound like, but the big question is: is it any good?

Bookended by a chorale arrangement of ‘Rhapsody In Blue’, naturally, ‘Brian Wilson Reimagines Gershwin’ will never top Wilson at his absolute sharpest – and is unlikely to be as fondly written about as ‘Pet Sounds’ or the much documented ‘Smile’ – but there’s more than enough material here worthy of investigating. More importantly, this album stands as proof that Wilson is still a truly gifted arranger, even on those occasions when the material doesn’t quite hit the mark.

Of the two new songs, ‘The Like I Love In You’ is a gentle ballad, with a beautifully arranged vocal; by Wilson’s standards it’s not too “kitchen-sink”. While the vocal is the high point, a special mention must be given to a tasteful string and percussion arrangement, using the triangle and Wilson’s beloved woodblocks. Overall, this track is a little bit Disney-esque, but sets the mood for album quite nicely and is likely in keeping with a style Gershwin would have enjoyed. It’s less likely Gershwin would have enjoyed the other new number, ‘Nothing But Love’ quite as much. Here, in contrast to ‘The Like I Love In You’, Wilson grabs the opportunity to create something more complex. Sleigh bells, baritone saxophones and washes of harmony vocals drive something which could have been written by Wilson alone, and could have graced his 2008 outing ‘That Lucky Old Sun’ quite happily.

Arguably Gershwin’s most famous composition, ‘Summertime’ is probably one of the album’s weak links. This has much to do with Wilson’s vocal not always quite being as sharp as it could be. However, the inclusion of strings and brass help smooth out any overt raggedness, while a fantastic xylophone chips in for atmosphere. Similarly iffy in places, ‘I Loves You Porgy’ meanders a little, but is saved by tasteful strings and trombone work. Things then pick up with a sprightly instrumental rendition of ‘I Got Plenty o’ Nuttin’’, where Wilson’s arrangement goes off the deep end. With a Southern canter, at first driven by harmonica and what sounds like temple blocks, it’s upbeat style provides a welcome difference to both ‘Summertime’ and ‘I Loves You Porgy’. The jaunty rhythm is then augmented by superb brass and strings, to create one of the album’s standouts.

A slightly bluesy take on ‘It Ain’t Necessarily So’ – featuring a wall of strings and brass and then topped with harmonica – provides another high point, since it doesn’t rely so heavy on choirs of vocals to fill everything out. Even Wilson himself sounds far more comfortable in his role of lead vocalist. The end result sounds both warm and inviting; the louder moments taking on the epic nature of a sixties film theme. The shuffling samba of ‘’S Wonderful’ also finds Brian in a more restrained mood, his arrangement here surprisingly similar to Diana Krall’s 2001 rendition of the song. While Wilson has avoided any temptation to reconstruct this number completely in his own style, there’s a multi-layering of vocals which adds a great depth and a jazz flute solo which sits rather well.

‘I Got Rhythm’, on the other hand, gets completely Wilson-ed. After an intro taken from ‘Rhapsody In Blue’, Brian and co launch into a Beach Boys-esque piece of doo wop, with slight surf overtones. The sax breaks echo late 50s rock and roll, while a chorus of backing vocal ‘oohs’ come straight out of Brian’s famous formative years. Fantastic…just fantastic. With a harpsichord at the heart, ‘Someone To Watch Over Me’ also ends up sounding like something from the Beach Boys’ ‘Pet Sounds’ sessions – ‘You Still Believe In Me’, in particular – a feeling strengthened somewhat by the inclusion of upfront (yet gentle) bass work. Once you’ve thrown in a string quartet and the ubiquitous sleigh bells and clip-clop percussion, this was certainly created with a knowing nod to ‘Pet Sounds’, and as such, seems as if it was meant for Wilson all along. For ‘I’ve Got a Crush on You’, Wilson opts for a simple stabbing piano, complimented by strings and harmony vocals. While not as interesting as some of his re-workings, the subtle guitar work, with lots of echo, is particularly pleasing.

For those who dislike light opera, musical theatre and its ilk, the idea of Wilson tackling Gershwin may not appeal in theory.  In practice, however, most of this comes off very well indeed.   This album comes with so much of Brian Wilson’s signature stamp all over it, it’s almost impossible to dislike.  Surely, that’s a big enough seal of approval?

September 2010

JUSTIN KLINE – Six Songs EP

six songsHailing from Nashville, Justin Kline is a singer-songwriter whose work fits neatly into the power pop niche. The world has seen many similar musicians; however, Kline is a gifted multi-instrumentalist, providing this self-released EP with its vocals, guitars, bass and keyboards. As for his overall musical style, he takes the bounciness of mid-60s Brian Wilson (though hopefully without the cupboard full of skeletons), the brilliance of Brendan Benson and the all-round professionalism of pop revivalists Jellyfish, proving fully understands the best ingredients required to make a great power pop record.

While each of the EP’s songs has something of note, that spark of greatness is at its most obvious during ‘How I Became The Wind’ – a track resplendent in sunshine grooves, stabbing keys, sleigh bells and a knowing smile. The drum pattern which drives the piece evokes the marching vibe from Jellyfish’s ‘Ghost at Number One’ – always welcome – while his distinctive vocal strives for pop perfection. The lead voice is counterbalanced by rather effective whoahs on the chorus section and harmony vocals are well placed during the verses. Aside from a spacious, organ driven break midway, ‘How I Became The Wind’ is a tight, near perfect, slice of power pop. ‘Heart Attack’ works its magic via a semi-acoustic shuffle before a stomping chorus takes hold. Kline’s high vocal pitch gives this sixties-inspired number a striking, if occasionally sinister edge. Although the approach is a standard jangle-pop one, the punch of the chorus gives the arrangement an extra sharp quality. The closing section has a slightly claustrophobic quality, leading to Kline’s vocal cracking under the delivery of the last line. ‘All I Need’ features one of Kline’s best vocals. Here, his higher registers are saved for a multi-vocalled chorus; musically, it’s another fabulous number – one which wouldn’t be out of place on Mark Bacino’s ‘Pop Job’ long-player (which, you all really should check out if you haven’t already). While the verses have a light airiness, it’s the sharpness of the chorus, followed by a multi-layered vocal and Brian Wilson-esque theramin sound which provide the track’s most memorable elements.

‘Singing In The Air’ opts for a rumpty-tumpty rhythm which hints at country-pop, especially with the subtle use of steel guitar and twangy guitar lead midway. You’d be hard pushed to mistake it for a country tune beyond that though, as Kline’s vocal retains the pop shine it delivers on the rest of the EP. ‘Kaleidoscope’ offers something a little more complex with its fuzzed up vocals, guitars and harder edges. The punch on the chorus once again recalls Jellyfish, Jason Falkner and Brendan Benson, while a trippy instrumental break utilises understated oohs and ahs against a gentle mellotron-esque sound, making it another hugely enjoyable listen.

The closing number, ‘Sunshine’ sounds, at first, like it’s going to be a slightly lower-key acoustic song; the acoustic elements here are more pronounced, that’s true, but once everything finds its groove, it becomes a solid piece of bubblegum pop. For the first couple of spins it was as good as most of the EP’s material, then after a few more listens the cracks began to appear: the overly optimistic lyrics are a little cloying, but the musical arrangement helps carry it off…almost. That optimism (which might be a religious thing, I’m undecided) gives the EP a positive ending, but its over-enthusiasm, for me, makes it the most skippable track.

Although a little flawed in places, ‘Six Songs’ is highly recommended for power pop connoisseurs; a release which ought to place Justin Kline alongside Mike Viola and Mark Bacino as one of the great champions of timeless pop.

Get mp3s here.

August 2010

TRAIN – Save Me San Francisco

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Like most people in the UK, I first became aware of Train when the title cut from their second album ‘Drops of Jupiter’ became a hit. Mainstream UK success eluded the band for some time after that, but they continued to be major players in the US, with their brand of pop/rock (It is likely that elsewhere on the net you’ll see Train referred to as ‘modern rock’. I’m not going to make such claims since I feel that [a] The bulk of Train’s material is often too pop-based to be lumped in with other band’s who’ve gained such a tag; [b]that’s a rubbish term coined by people who enjoy melodic rock music but hated the term post-grunge and [c] the idea of branding anything ‘modern’ is a mistake; after all, it won’t always be modern – and what are you gonna call it then?). After enjoying ‘Drops of Jupiter’, I tracked down their debut, which also had a lot going for it. Although the slightly rockier edge of their third outing ‘My Private Nation’ gathered mixed responses from fans, it did nothing to damage their solid US following and the release of ‘For Me It’s You’ in 2006 continued their success.

2009’s ‘Save Me San Francisco’ reinstates the original Train line-up (last heard playing together on ‘My Private Nation’) and is produced by Martin Terefe – a producer known for his work with Jason Mraz, James Morrison and KT Tunstall. I find James Morrison to be a dullard, capable of churning out nothing more than easily listening tut and Jason Mraz is hopelessly overrated; however, I think most of KT Tunstall’s output is fab, so there was always hope that Terefe could work wonders for Train.

The single release ‘Hey, Soul Sister’ had major airplay on UK radio stations Absolute and BBC Radio 2, gaining the band a great deal of attention – perhaps the most they’ve ever had from UK audiences. Regardless of this, I hate the song. It’s lightweight, feel-good, here-comes-summer quality is extremely irritating – and having the main musical thrust (if that’s the appropriate word here, and I’m not sure it is) delivered on a ukulele does not help matters. Pat Monahan’s expressive voice also seems to have fallen foul of autotuning (and seemingly not the only time on this album, it must be said). It’s a surprise that this became a UK hit for Train at all; when I first heard it, I had trouble believing it was them. Although Train were never the most alternative of the late 90s radio-friendly bands, this song is so bland it hurts. File somewhere next to Jack Johnson and forget it.

Righto. With that out of the way, from the perspective of someone who owns the previous Train albums, how does the rest of ‘Save Me San Francisco’ shape up? I’m pleased to say that despite my dislike of the single and a small concern that Martin Terefe’s main concentration seems to be on Train’s most commercial aspects (leading to a few of the songs ending up a bit more Maroon 5 than I would have liked), the end result is pretty good – even if it never quite matches the best bits of the previous Train albums.

With an acoustic intro, ‘Save Me San Francisco’ instantly wrong-foots its listeners. Given the choice of producer, it was almost inevitable Train’s sound would lighten up a touch, but once the drums kick in, any big fears you may have had about the album being entirely too soft should be swept aside. What eventually develops over the course of just over four minutes is a decent and confident piece of melodic pop/rock with a slightly retro edge. While never as hard hitting as The Black Crowes, for example, this track has a similar bar-room quality, gathering momentum as it goes and eventually making good use of female backing vocals with a souly vibe. ‘If It’s Love’ goes for a quirky approach; initially, there’s a Collective Soul-esque rhythm, but the chorus is far more poppy. Striking a perfect balance between radio-friendliness and soft rock edge, once it finds its groove it has all the makings of a decent track, even if Monahan’s voice reaches slightly annoying pitch here and there and some of the verses’ lyrics decend into quirkiness for the sake of it.

‘Words’ marks the reappearance of female backing vocals and with the way they’re used evokes a soulful tinge, even though the song itself is pure pop; ‘Marry Me’ is complete acoustic sugariness and while the lyrics are syrupy, the sparse musical arrangement is effective. ‘Breakfast In Bed’ is the album’s other truly horrible affair, largely worked from a programmed loop somewhere between a bossanova nastiness and ‘In The Air Tonight’. However, that’s not its biggest crime: remind me to ask the band what “I wanna please you, I wanna Japanese you / You’re breakfast in bed” is all about. Very poor indeed. Some redemption comes from a heavily pounded drum kit during the end section, but it’s not enough.

If I had to pick a favourite track from ‘Save Me San Francisco’ it would be ‘Parachute’. It’s here Pat Monahan’s voice sounds at its most natural; the music is more dramatic – in fact, it’s great to hear guitarist Jimmy Stafford getting to play something a little harder. Overall, it’s far more in keeping with the rock side of Train’s radio friendly chops and probably could have fit snugly on to ‘My Private Nation’. ‘You Already Know’ also hits harder, but in a totally different way. A memorable chorus is laid over the top of choppy rhythm guitars and while it still has an air of slightly-too-calculated radio-friendliness, it represents part of the reason why Train’s popularity hasn’t wavered in the US.

Train have a sound which works for them on this album and rarely deviate from it (the most obvious stylistic difference being on ‘Hey, Soul Sister’); but overall, that more obvious pop sheen provides just enough variation from previous albums to keep the band from repeating themselves. Despite the album’s lead single being teeth-grindingly irksome and some of the songs occasionally blending into each other, ‘Save Me…’ is a worthy addition to the band’s catalogue, despite its faults. It features a couple of corkers among its eleven songs and on the strength of those, Train aren’t about to hit the buffers just yet.

May 2010