Thursday, March 30, 2006
Move Out of Babylon
The guy in the back is thinking:
"Ah who dat duppy who slide up next to da bossman?"
After 14 years as the top don -- oops, bad choice of words when talking about a politico -- today is Jamaican Prime Minister P.J. Patterson's last day. Portia Simpson Miller, the first female to helm Jamaica, will be sworn in as the new prez.
"It's not my fault. It's Seaga's."
Here's wishing Miller the best. I hope it's a new day for Jamaica and not politricks as usual. Let us pray:
Johnny Clarke
"Move Out of Babylon, Rastaman"
"Commericial Locks"
A Ruffer Version: At King Tubby's 1974-1978
(Trojan, 2002)
Buy.
More on Johnny.Posted by CP | Link |
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
So? You Expected Hardcore?
Matisyahu's 'Youth' Is Catchy Reggae Lite
By Christopher Porter
Special to The Washington Post
Wednesday, March 29, 2006; Page C05
Two years ago, Matthew Miller began his rise as a media darling. As the reggae rapping Orthodox Jew Matisyahu, he scored minor hits with his first two albums, and music writers everywhere rushed to laud him as "more than just a novelty act." Fast-forward to the release of "Youth," though, and the story line has changed: Matisyahu's now being hammered as the latest in a long line of minstrel acts to hit the pop charts.
But why such ire? He's hardly the first white artist to succeed by appropriating black music and culture -- even in reggae.
The Clash took Jamaican music and disseminated it to the punk rock masses, as did numerous second-wave ska bands. And just last year Sinead O'Connor was largely spared the stick for "Throw Down Your Arms," which featured the Irishwoman doing Rastafarian roots reggae. But perhaps O'Connor escaped critical wrath because her CD didn't beat first-week sales of every reggae album in Billboard chart history, as "Youth" did. Success has a way of making people suspicious and edgy. (Plus, O'Connor is an amazing singer, and it was hard to deny how good the bald crooner sounded even when she was belting "Curly Locks.")
But all that noise about identity obscures one question: Is Matisyahu -- or "Youth" -- any good?
Well, no, not if he's judged as a straight-up reggae artist. But this is no Vanilla Ice, either.
While Matisyahu has an appealingly nimble way of speed rapping, his voice doesn't have the resonance and fire of Jamaican toasters -- which might point to another likely reason for Matisyahu-bashing: He comes out of the jam band scene. As a high school dropout, Miller followed Phish for almost half a year; now, as Matisyahu, his audience is made up of those pesky patchouli-soaked kids, not hard-core reggae fans.
But as a jam band icon, Matisyahu's just fine, and he's playing to a scene that doesn't mind reggae lite -- or somebody rapping in faux patois.
Bill Laswell produced "Youth," and he gives Matisyahu's stripped-down backing band -- guitar, bass and drums -- just enough studio treatments to thicken its sound without taking away from its strength: noodly reggae, a slightly stilted but still grooving sound that would likely get a hemp-skirted girl twirling but might leave a true child of Jah scratching his dreadlocks.
Matisyahu isn't trying to sell himself as the authentic sound, and in two sly asides he shows his suburban roots: On the bumping "Jerusalem" he injects the chorus from Matthew Wilder's trite, reggae-tinged 1983 hit "Break My Stride" in the middle of a plaintive ode to Judaism's most important city, and "Dispatch the Troops" features Matisyahu singing "sending out an SOS," a line from the Police. Pop-reggae has had no more popular group than the Police, and that's the lineage Matisyahu should be considered against, not roots artists like Bob Marley and Burning Spear.
"King Without a Crown," the 2005 hit that propelled Matisyahu out of the underground hippie scene and into buzz-band territory, makes yet another appearance on "Youth." The immediately catchy song, which achieves a perfect blend of rock and reggae, also appeared on his first two indie-label albums, but now that Sony has picked up Matisyahu the corporation isn't going to let a great song get away. Unfortunately, little of the rest of "Youth" matches up.Posted by CP | Link |
Sunday, March 26, 2006
The Gossip
Bad Reputation
The Gossip dishes the dirt on its artsy garage-rock sound
Washington Post Express, Thursday, March 23, 2006
The Gossip's new CD, "Standing in the Way of Control," is a white-heat blast of garage-rock blues. But unlike so many bands who have mined the punk-soul axis before, the Gossip's ringer is singer Beth Ditto, who vocalizes with the passion and lungs of a classic R&B belter.
"I was a total choir nerd," said Ditto from a crackly cell phone somewhere in Colorado, confirming that her voice isn't the result of biology alone. "I was in church choir growing up. My mom was a choir nerd when she was a kid, and she literally taught me how to sing. I never took vocal lessons or anything like that -- it probably wouldn't hurt me -- but I learned from my mom.
"My mom quit school when she was 8th grade," continued the Arkansas native, the Southern twang still prominent in her speaking voice. "She's total rad style; a rock 'n' roll mom. She listened to a lot, a lot, a lot of music. I was always around honky tonks, and my whole family played music. That's how my voice came along; it was just encouraged from birth."
Guitarist-bassist Nathan "Brace Paine" Howdeshell is also from Arkansas, and his and Ditto's rural roots are all over the Gossip's music, which sounds like the White Stripes in a mud-wrestling match with a no-wave funk band. Drummer Hannah Blilie adds the primal-dance thump on "Standing in the Way of Control," which was produced by Fugazi's Guy Picciotto. "He would come to our shows in D.C., and he's recorded Quix*o*tic and Blonde Redhead, and we all were really into the sound of those records," Ditto said. "And, you know, he's a punk legend." CHRISTOPHER PORTER
Black Cat, 1811 14th St. NW; Thursday, 8:30 p.m., $10; 202-667-7960. (U St./Cardozo)Posted by CP | Link |
Saturday, March 11, 2006
The Pogues
Washington Post, Saturday, March 11, 2006; Page C04
A stooped, whiskey-bottle-toting Shane McGowan appeared to be 47 sheets to the wind when he took the stage with the reconstituted Pogues at the 9:30 club on Thursday. McGowan walked up to his mike, opened his toothless mouth and said, "Blargh garhde darlgzane argha." In fact, he pretty much said nothing comprehensible other than the slurred song titles he struggled to read from the set list posted at his feet.
McGowan's legendary bad habits are what made his band mates kick him out of the Pogues in 1991, but he's somehow still alive today -- if just barely. With his choppers gone, McGowan's jaw has the scrunched-up shape of a weathered accordion bellow, and his singing has morphed from rough-voiced crooning to mush-mouthed gargling. It was sad to watch this genius of song reduced to a shuffling fool (think Ozzy Osbourne), and it was awkward to witness how the audience roared at McGowan's every slug from the whiskey bottle and his every unintelligible utterance.
Even so, the more McGowan chugged, the better his singing became -- such dark irony. And as the nearly two-hour, 26-song concert progressed, the Pogues, too, played with more focus, energy and joy. Their punk-informed, trad-Irish ensemble sound still shoots sparks.
The capacity crowd likely couldn't have cared less that they were watching a ravaged human being perform; the chance to hear amazing McGowan songs such as "A Pair of Brown Eyes," "A Rainy Night in Soho" and "Old Main Drag" overrode any such concerns.
The highlight was, of course, "Fairytale of New York," one of the loveliest songs McGowan ever penned. Ella Finer, the daughter of Pogues banjoist and guitarist Jem Finer, crooned the female parts originally sung by Kirsty MacColl, and she more than held her own. With confetti "snow" falling down on them, Ella and McGowan joined together for an awkward dance during the song's concluding section. It was a sweet moment in an otherwise bittersweet concert. --Christopher PorterPosted by CP | Link |
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Wedding Present: Returned and Still Giving
Washington Post, Wednesday, March 8, 2006; Page C05
David Gedge headed straight for the merch table as soon as the Wedding Present's set ended on Sunday at the Black Cat. It's been 21 years and many lineup changes since Gedge formed the band in Leeds, England, yet he's still forced to hawk his own gear. That dedication to the independent ethos is just one reason to love Gedge; another is his smart and witty songs, 21 of which the Wedding Present played, including "Corduroy" and "Brassneck."
The quartet performed Gedge's hyperstrummed tunes with all the ferocity of a band just starting out -- and in many ways, it is. Gedge wrapped up the Wedding Present in 1997 to focus on a new project, Cinerama. But when that fizzled -- along with Gedge's longtime relationship with the woman who piloted the band with him -- the Wedding Present was reborn with 2005's "Take Fountain" CD. Lovelorn lyrics are Gedge's specialty, and his personal loss is a songwriter's gain.
Although he will turn 46 this April, Gedge still looks like his trim old self -- minus the awful beaver-pelt haircut he had for almost as long as Wedding Present was active. When he wasn't thrashing his guitar, Gedge gestured awkwardly while singing in his distinctive gargling baritone and when introducing songs. That led to a mocking imitation by the bassist from opening act Sally Crewe's band, who was watching from the back of the room. But Gedge knows he's a bit of a sexy dork, and his charming stage patter is a mixture of audience teasing and self-mockery: "We're the semilegendary Wedding Present," he deadpanned prior to "Always the Quiet One," and before a cover of "Falling," the theme song to "Twin Peaks," he claimed, "I'm getting too old for this." Not too old to sell T-shirts. --Christopher PorterPosted by CP | Link |
Monday, March 06, 2006
Strike Anywhere
Washington Post, Monday, March 6, 2006; Page C05
Fists and feet were flying everywhere Saturday at the Black Cat. The Richmond hard-core quintet Strike Anywhere inspired the same sort of manic energy it gave off, and the slam pit rollicked from the opening note of "Chorus of One" to the finish of the group's 40-minute set. But because Strike Anywhere is pro-vegan and antiwar, there wasn't too much violence in the madness; just good clean bone-bruising fun. If a slam-dancer's hand or leg connected with someone else, you can bet the recipient was helped up, dusted off and sent back to the pit to get pummeled some more. One love, punk style. The dreadlocked Thomas Barnett is a little guy with a big voice and even bigger ideas. But rather than preach from the stage, Barnett let his lyrics in songs like "Laughter in a Police State" and "You're Fired" do the talking to a wound-up audience that seemed to know every word.
Barnett has the compassion and charisma to inspire, but it doesn't hurt to have guitarists Matt Smith and Matt Sherwood blasting through Marshall amps to help. Their melodic yet shredding sound recalled that of the District's legendary hard-core band Minor Threat and the proto-emo group Dag Nasty. That's not the only similarity between Strike Anywhere and D.C. punk history: Dischord, the grass-roots company that released albums by Minor Threat, Fugazi and other progressive-minded punk bands, bears a direct influence on Strike Anywhere's activist aesthetic. Giving props where props are due, Strike Anywhere big-upped Dischord, along with social-change organization Positive Force D.C., before performing "New Architects." --Christopher Porter Posted by CP | Link |
Friday, March 03, 2006
Vusi Mahlasela
Washington Post, Friday, March 3, 2006; Page C04
Vusi Mahlasela is known as "The Voice" in South Africa because of his soaring, textured tenor. He needed that powerful instrument to command the Kennedy Center's Millennium Stage on Wednesday, in competition with the mediocre sound and the occasional squawking baby. Still, it's hard to complain about a free solo concert by one of South Africa's greatest artists, even if you needed to sit near the stage to hear an acceptable representation of his gorgeous singing and acoustic guitar playing.
Born 41 years ago, Mahlasela grew up in the Mamelodi township. He still lives there when he's not traveling the globe as a musician and emissary for Nelson Mandela's 46664 project to raise awareness about the global pandemic of HIV/AIDS. Politics and activism are a daily part of Mahlasela's life and common topics in his compositions, several of which he introduced with explanations, including "Our Sand, Our Land" for the displaced San people of southern portions of the continent and "Troubadour" for poet and antiapartheid activist Dennis Brutus.
Many of his songs are in English, but when Mahlasela sings in Zulu the beauty of his voice takes on a whole different shape, with the clicks and lisps of the language adding percussive textures. Mahlasela's chords, strumming and picking patterns mostly follow that of U.S. folk music; there's relatively little African-style guitar in his playing. But the simplicity of his songs allows him to croon elaborate melodies, especially on his stunning "When You Come Back," about people returning to South Africa after apartheid. Along with his interpretation of the South African folk song "Silang Mabele," which he didn't perform, the tune is Mahlasela's crowning achievement. The gospel-like whoops from the otherwise sedate audience testified to that. --Christopher PorterPosted by CP | Link |
Friday, March 03, 2006
PREFUSE 73
Security Screenings
(Warp)
**1/2 (out of 4)
The Stranger, Mar 2-Mar 8, 2006Scott Herren's copious output under numerous pseudonyms (Prefuse 73, Savath & Savalas, Delarosa and Asora, Piano Overlord, etc.) makes dude seem like he's never made a track he didn't like. The wickedly talented producer flits between pure hiphop, cut 'n' paste psychedelia, and found-sound electronica with all the focus of an ADD adult. But that's what the fast-forward button is for, and if Herren doesn't know what to cut, your ears will.
Herren calls the 17-track Security Screenings a "mini-album," but that's stretching it. Hit stop before the CD-closing "We Leave You in a Cloud of Thick Smoke and Sleep Outro," a pasty bit of ambience featuring the layered vocals of TV on the Radio's Tunde Adebimpe, and skip most of the brief incidental tracks and "Illiterate Interlude," a fake skit in which an interviewer grills Herren over the guest-star-heavy Surrounded by Silence. (Security Screenings is a partial reaction to the mixed response that CD received.) Once you've excised the chaff, you'll get some healthy Herren wheat. "Matrimonioids (For Elvin + Susana Estela)" sounds like the melancholy downtempo work on Prefuse 73's first CD, 2001's Vocal Studies + Uprock Narratives. "Keeping Up with Your Quota," "Weight Watching," "With Dirt and Two TextsÑLater Version with Love" and "Creating Cyclical Headaches" (a Four Tet collaboration) have the warm, distorted ambience and time-stretched melodies that seep through headphones like aural honey. If Herren can bust open the Ritalin, and make more tracks like these, your fast-forward button will thank you. CHRISTOPHER PORTER Posted by CP | Link |
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Sarah Harmer, Aglow at the Birchmere
Washington Post, Thursday, March 2, 2006; Page C08
It looked a few years ago as if Sarah Harmer was on the verge of alt-rock stardom. The Canadian singer-songwriter's U.S. debut, 2000's "You Were Here," featured 12 pop gems, each brimming with clever lyrics, punchy melodies and Harmer's crystalline voice. The follow-up, "All of Our Names," was a critical favorite, but the popular success didn't quite come. The music scene had shifted away from female singer-songwriters, and Harmer's brand of intelligent pop didn't seem to have a firm place in the market.
But as Harmer proved before a sea of khaki pants at her Birchmere concert Tuesday, she'll have a long, prosperous career at the left of the dial and in adult-rock clubs, where the NPR crowd gathers to hear smart, rootsy music. Her latest CD, the country-heavy "I'm a Mountain," plays directly to that audience, but it's not a marketing ruse: In 1999 Harmer self-released "Songs for Clem," a back-porch-recorded tribute to her father and to American music, from jazz ("Stormy Weather") to bluegrass ("Blue Moon of Kentucky").
Harmer showed Tuesday that she's a fine finger-style guitarist and a great singer whose voice recalls the strength and purity of Emmylou Harris's. Her five chamber-folk band mates were equally talented, changing instruments and providing spot-on harmonies with ease. It was as if Harmer had raided a band camp and found the most talented singers and multi-instrumentalists in all of Ontario.
The concert featured many tunes from "I'm a Mountain," including "I Am Aglow," "Oleander" and the Dolly Parton cover "Will He Be Waiting for Me?" But Harmer also reinterpreted some of her older, softer songs, including "Lodestar" and "Capsized." She also took requests from the crowd during a solo segment, performing "The Hideout" and a cover of "Wildlife" by fellow Canadian songwriter David Hodge.
After 20 songs, Harmer and Co. finished with an unamplified and unmiked version of "How Deep in the Valley," their closing harmonies drifting into the second standing ovation. Who needs alt-rock anyway? --Christopher PorterPosted by CP | Link |
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Ne-Yo
"So Sick" (remix featuring Jin)
Ne-Yo Steps Up With Soulful Style But Little Substance
By Christopher Porter
Special to The Washington Post
Wednesday, March 1, 2006; Page C05
Ne-Yo wants you to know that he's a serious songwriter, not just another pretty-boy R&B singer. Born Shaffer Smith, the 23-year-old has penned lyrics for the likes of Mary J. Blige, Faith Evans and Mario. He dubbed his debut "In My Own Words" to underscore that he has language skills, and the CD booklet shows hand-scrawled lyrics and photos of pencils and paper to further reinforce the point.
So how are the lyrics to the 13 songs? Let's just say that Ne-Yo is a great vocalist.
His singing style somewhat recalls Michael Jackson's, especially in the way he slyly shapes and changes melodies over the course of a song, but Ne-Yo has the nasal delivery of modern-day R&B crooners. It sounds like each vocal line is conjured somewhere between the top of the mouth and the nose, never from the chest.
Still, Ne-Yo can sing the hell out of his songs, and he keeps melisma to a minimum while still emoting in a way that lets listeners know that he really means what he's saying. But it's best not to pay attention to the words, which fluctuate between juvenile bedroom seductions and sensitive-guy overtures that don't really seem that sincere. Witness the chorus to the slow-grinding "Mirror": "Baby, I love making love in front of the mirror/So that I can watch you enjoying me."
Such compassionate narcissism pops up again in the second verse: "I understand that you're not ready for me to make my directorial debut/Featuring me but starring you, baby/But that's okay with me/Honestly, this is the next best thing."
Get it? Ne-Yo wants to make a personal porn video, but he respects his girl's wishes that he hold off on breaking out the camcorder until they can get to know each other. He's truly a modern man.
Rather than look to Ne-Yo for insights on the state of modern love, just listen to "In My Own Words" for its pop-music smarts. A host of producers fill the CD with appealing midtempo and slow R&B jams, with no better example being the fantastic smash single "So Sick" -- turn on BET, MTV or the radio and you'll likely hear it in a matter of minutes.
One of the best pop songs to hit the airwaves in years, "So Sick" is one of four tunes that team Ne-Yo with the hot Norwegian production duo StarGate. Their collaborations are among the CD's highlights, followed closely by the nouveau new-jack swing of "Sign Me Up" and the '80s-sounding "It Just Ain't Right" (might be the DeBarge sample). Rapper Peedi Peedi pops up on the bumping "Stay," and Ghostface Killah spits a few killer lines on "Get Down Like That." Ghostface might be a bit of a wacko, but that guy knows how to write lyrics.Posted by CP | Link |
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Who cork the dance?
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