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

ALEXI LALAS – Ginger

alexi

Most of you will know Alexi Lalas as “that American soccer guy”. In 1998, Lalas released the album ‘Ginger’ (his third, I believe) and it’s a fantastic record, full of power pop gems.

On the album, he not only wrote and sang all the songs, but played guitar, bass and drums. Lalas is a fine vocalist, but rather more importantly here, he proves himself to be a superb songwriter. You won’t find any deep or life-changing lyrics, but then that’s not what ‘Ginger’ is about. The opening number ‘Goodnight Moon’ sets the tone with its upbeat jangle, sure to please fans of Gin Blossoms etc. However it’s the album’s second track which really makes the listener realise they could be onto something a bit special; musically, it’s got a similar vibe to the opener, but a catchy, simple guitar riff gives it edge. The lyric “hey hey hey, just another cliché, too much too fast and it slips away” would suggest Lalas more than understands the fickle nature of the music industry (and fame in general) and come what may, he’s getting maximum enjoyment from his work – and that’s something which really comes across in most of this album’s performances.

‘Drive-by Serenade’ has a more mature sound and slows thing down a little. It feels less throwaway than some of the album, but somehow that doesn’t make it better. If you want a comparison, this fits snugly into the late 90s alt rock mode again and wouldn’t sound too out of place played up against the likes of Far Too Jones. It holds its own with the best music of that style. ‘Sonic Lullaby’ tears by in full-on rock mode – and is gone in under three minutes. ‘This Should Be’ is perfect Gin Blossoms style jangle-pop. I may even dare suggest it’s better than some of the material on their second album! ‘Vacancy’ is another slower number which combines both acoustic and electric guitars and is very reminiscent of Five Easy Pieces – another great and largely unknown band from the late 90s.

The songs on offer are so strong; ‘Ginger’ is an album with no unnecessary filler and at approximately 37 minutes playing time, it leaves you feeling like you need to give it that second spin when it’s done, just to help keep up the good vibes. If you’re a fan of ‘Hang Time’ era Soul Asylum, Goo Goo Dolls or Gin Blossoms (and particularly their side project Gas Giants), then you need this record. As far as largely ignored albums go, this is one of the greatest.

March 2010

JEPP – Jepp

Jepp

The 1990s were a great time for discovering new music.  Back in those days, there were hundreds of great albums in the bargain bins of London’s independent record shops and at record fairs.  Sometimes they’d be familiar after reading reviews, but mostly cheap albums were purchased because they looked interesting, or somehow seemed right – like they were produced by someone interesting or had decent guests, you know the sort of thing…  If you’re someone who has obsessively bought albums, you’ve certainly gone through similar rituals yourself.

This self titled album by Jepp received a favourable review in the UK’s Mojo Magazine at the time of its original release, a review which compared her to Rickie Lee Jones.  The reviewer also said that Jepp had a voice which would be an acquired taste.  It sounded like something worth hearing…and sure enough, with a lack of promotion, one appeared in a record fair bargain bin not long after.

There are flashes of music recalling Rickie Lee on this debut, but quite why the reviewer seemed so keen to draw comparisons is a bit odd, since there’s a far stronger one:  Jepp’s voluminous, vibrato filled vocal style owes a great debt to Grace Slick (albeit Grace bellowing rather loudly). ‘Bowling Night’ gets things underway with a marriage of 90’s style fuzz bass and 60’s style vibraphone.  The song is a snapshot of a life, a mother, her migraines and a job she hated.  Jepp’s voice soars to attention-grabbing levels, becomes absorbing and by the end of this, you’ll know whether you love her or hate her – it’s really that instant.  ‘Superglue Low’ has a more blues-rock feel, but as with most of the music on this album, it’s not quite so simple.  Over the low-tuned rhythms, Jepp’s voice is softer than on the opener, less impassioned, but often retaining a sharpness. Lyrically, it sounds like specific storytelling, but the messages seem fairly oblique.

‘Parsons Green’ is much gentler and it’s slightly jazzy acoustic work provides a nice contrast to the fuller sounding previous tracks.  One of the albums strongest moments, Jepp’s voice remains soft and intriguing; the vibes return and some soaring guitar work adds colour.  ‘Go Home Early’ makes great use of string sounds, a solid but simple drum rhythm and more vibraphones – and Jepp’s voice wanders into Grace Slick territory.  By this point, it becomes clear that the album’s great appeal and longevity lies in the care that’s gone into the arrangements and songcraft.  Jepp’s music has so many layers, its retro charm becomes enticing.  The haunting ‘Tiny Dancer’ pushes Jepp’s voice to its most extreme.  The Grace Slick-isms are at their most blatant with forced vibrato; the music is at its most spiky, altogether creating a slightly unsettling atmosphere. ‘The Guy I Like’ pulls together fuzzy electric guitar, great use of marimba and neo-calypso stylings, which at the outset make it sound like an aggressive cousin to Rickie Lee Jones’s ‘Ghetto of My Mind’ (so maybe that’s why that magazine review picked her as an obvious reference point?).  Again the musical layers are appealing – unlike lots of other tracks, the guitar is heavily featured.

Another softer track ‘Las Vegas’ sees the acoustic side of Jepp’s work make a return.  It resembles some of the quieter moments from Bree Sharp’s ‘More B.S.’ album (although Jepp’s debut was recorded some years before), while the acoustic jangle intro of ‘Orbit’ pulls us into album’s most accessible track – Jepp’s voice isn’t quite as hard here and it’s musically simpler.  It’s not without those layers, though, as electric guitars are used to created fuzz (but always sparingly) and beneath everything, the sound of the vibraphone provides a much welcome addition (if you find yourself really getting  into this album, you’ll understand that the vibraphones are key in giving it most of its retro coolness).

Many of those London record stores and their bargain bins are long gone; the record fairs gather dust and attract only the most faithful, but this Jepp album still shines.  It’s been many years since that very first listen, but in all honesty, it’s lost none of that spark.  It’s still unconventionally beautiful and surprisingly demanding on the listener for a singer-songwriter album in the pop/rock vein.  On the whole, this seems to be an album which has been largely overlooked. There’s very little about it, or Sara Jepp (or even her second album ‘7:11’) on the internet.  If you find a copy, do yourselves a favour and pick it up.  Provided Jepp’s quirky voice doesn’t turn you off – or else you aren’t too quick to write her off as an Alanis impersonator (as some, indeed, have in an amazing display of knee-jerk opinions, never taking time to spot that sixties coolness) – there are some great songs to be heard.

February 2010

 

 

 

 

 

RABBIT IN THE BLOOD – Little Ray of Sunshine EP

Rabbit in the Blood is an acoustic based duo featuring Neil Luckett – a singer-songwriter best known for his work with alternative rock band tvfordogs – and composer, songwriter and producer Mark Lord. It pushes asides the hard rock and power pop edges of Neil’s band in favour of gentleness, of warmth and acoustic finger-picking. Musically, it may appear light upon the surface, but there’s something sinister lurking beneath.

The title cut has a very European feel, thanks to some keyboard work evoking an accordion sound, while the addition of strings (arranged by Mark Lord) is a nice touch. It’s a positive and upbeat musical arrangement, but looking closer, the lyrics are a cry of desperation, especially as the protagonist’s happiness seems to depend entirely upon the one closest to him. ‘Do You Feel the Sun’ makes great use of harmony vocals against the finger-picked guitar. Musically, it has a much deeper feel than the opener; the arrangement has a haunting ‘Scarboro Fair’ quality and Luckett’s guitar work is brilliant but not too showy. It’s song which looks for the positive, but again there’s a melancholy air.

‘A Day at the Beach’ has a musical and vocal fragility. On the surface, the lyrics deal with unhappiness; the narrative would suggest that it’s no ordinary seaside trip – if we go, we may never come back. If the kite doesn’t lift our troubles away, if we can’t dig deep enough to find the answers, we’re headed for a new life on the sea bed… Looking deeper, I think the seaside is just a metaphor for a “happy place”; that place of carefree innocence; a place where we feel safe and without responsibility…if we could throw the shackles of the real world away, forget everything and go back to a happy place, would it change things for the better? If we stayed somewhere without responsibilities, would it be possible to reconnect with the happy feelings buried inside us, or are they buried so deeply, there’s no chance of escape?

‘The House of The Dead Stereo’ has a similar reflective quality, telling a tale of somewhere once full of music, happiness and laughter; a place fondly remembered, but a place now soundless and empty. It captures a feeling of going back somewhere and it having somehow changed, even though you desperately want that place to feel the way it always did. ‘The House of the Dead Stereo’ is a piece I believe could resonate with those who often see things through rose-tinted glasses. Musically, it starts gently but builds to a climax with an upbeat drum shuffle, while an out of tune trumpet creeps in and helps to keep things off-kilter. There’s a sadness surrounding the sounds of happiness and the laughter from ghosts of the past here – and it’s that unsettling quality which makes this EP alluring.

Despite sounding musically light, ‘Little Ray of Sunshine’ is a downbeat journey which takes the listener through moods of with unhappiness, depression and disappointment. For those of you who like acoustic work and songwriting to think about, this EP should be on your list of things to check out.

Visit Rabbit in the blood here.

March 2010

BREE SHARP – More B.S.

A few years ago, I picked up Bree Sharp’s debut album ‘A Cheap And Evil Girl’ on a whim. I’d not heard a note of it, but it was dirt cheap and allegedly both Bob Dylan and Elvis Costello had said they were fans, so I figured I ought to hear it. As it turned out, the album was good, alternative-rock singer-songwriter stuff. Bree’s voice may have been everyone’s cup of tea, being rather edgy…almost exactly like Jepp (about whom you’ll find next to nothing on the net – if anybody can help, send us an email!), but generally it was a solid debut.

This, her sophomore effort, (minus the title for its Japanese release) kind of takes up the baton where ‘Cheap…’ left off. There’s very little difference in the tone and as before, there are obvious stand out cuts, some solid moments and a couple of absolute clunkers. Of songs I’d rather forget, the cover of Don Henley’s ‘Boys Of Summer’ is misjudged and doesn’t really suit Bree’s vocal style at all. A definite skipper… ‘Sleep Forever’ also grates a little, as the hooks aren’t that obvious and the drum pattern isn’t so inspiring. Since that closes the album, it’s easy enough to turn off the CD early!‘Lazy Afternoon’ is very chorus driven and the backing vocals prepare the listener for what you think is going to be a killer chorus and then somehow, it falls a little flat. It’s not unpleasant, but it feels like filler.

With the album’s weak tracks out of the way, what of the rest? ‘Everything Feels Wrong’ has a big chorus though, so it follows ‘Lazy Afternoon’ very well. Like a fuzzy-rock Sheryl Crow, complete with between-verse ‘doo doo doo’ moments, this was very much meant for radio play. It’s the best track here, hands down. ‘Dirty Magazine’ is this album’s oddity. Musically, it’s at odds with the pop-rock style – it’s got a twangy rock ‘n’ roll edge, although it’s not at all rock ‘n’ roll. It has an old fashioned country twang too, but there’s no way you’d ever call it country…and the lyrics may hint at the edgier side of Bree’s debut, but somehow, it doesn’t quite work. ‘Morning In A Bar’ is gentler all round, more atmospheric and sounds like the album’s hangover cure – probably quite deliberately – although as penultimate track, it feels misplaced, as it’s more of a closing statement.

‘Galaxy Song’ – nursery rhyme la-la’s aside – represents the kind of thing Bree is best at. It’s mid paced, semi-acoustic and hints at KT Tunstall, although tougher sounding and recorded a few years before KT hit the big time. ‘The Last Of Me’ is also a high point – a song which takes typical post-break up themes and looks for strength, presents the listener with more semi-acoustic goodness. On the strength of this track alone, I’d like to know whether Bree has had much radio play in the US, aside from her debut’s ode to wanting David Duchovny. It’d be a shame if not, since she’s clearly written better, less throwaway songs.

Overall, ‘More B.S.’ is actually pretty decent. Maybe I only think of it as being not quite as good as the debut purely because ‘The Boys Of Summer’ makes me cringe. …And there’s nothing quite as edgy here as ‘Gutter Mouth’ or ‘Cheap And Evil Girl’. But then, as much as I like it, Bree’s debut was never perfect.

November 2007