Wild Sweet Orange - Band of the Year
NOTE: The review below was written at AbsolutePunk.net by yours truly. I feel so strongly about this disc, I wanted to share it with my beloved RMP audience. Do enjoy .
The buzz about Birmingham, Alabama’s Wild Sweet Orange has been growing steadily throughout the past year-and-a-half and its about to reach its tipping point with the release of the band’s full-length debut We Have Cause To Be Uneasy. Beloved by indie hipster blogs as well as TV shows like “Grey’s Anatomy” and radio stations like KEXP, the band appears on the brink of major stardom. Cause To Be Uneasy is packed with 11 songs that are vast yet intimate, jittery and contemplative; and also nostalgic while still hopeful. Lead vocalist Preston Lovinggood has a bit of a lazy vocal delivery that manages to be both haunting and inviting, honest and direct.
There’s something wholly moving about the way he wraps his words around verses and choruses, and as is the case through much of this album, how he bellows and growls alongside a driving guitar lick. Lovinggood’s impassioned and skilled vocal limits partner with an uncanny ability to offer vivid reflections of childhood and the world around us. Lovinggood is not the only talent in the band though. Guitarist Taylor Shaw was raised on blues and cut his teeth in various Birmingham blues band, at one time even backing up American Idol winner Taylor Hicks. His experience and seasoned playing are a perfect compliment to Lovinggood’s painted portraits of American life. The guitars are raw and gritty, evoking the very essence of the ups and downs of life.
The rhythm section of bassist Garrett Kelly and drummer Chip Kilpatrick are also on the point, as they help in creating music that is big, rousing, driving bar room rock a la Neil Young. Even when they cut the tempo down a notch, the songs still manage to smolder inside the psyche. The basic textures of the songs on Cause To Be Uneasyare folk-rock, as most songs begin with a simple acoustic guitar and meander through mid-tempo territory until the final minute or two when the guitars begin to get feisty and the songs crash down like a tidal wave. The best examples of this are “House of Regret” and “Aretha’s Gold.”
The quintet, who grew up together in the Birmingham suburb of Homewood initially grew up on indie and punk, presently cite Emmylou Harris, Wilco and movie director David Lynch as influences. The impact of the influences is readily apparent as each song drips with real-life quandaries and commotion. Nestled alongside gritty guitars, urgent drums and precise baselines are songs that are visceral, emotional and full of impact. These are songs that allow the listener to feel something in the very recesses of the soul, in ways that haven’t been felt before.
There are very few albums these days that contain powerhouse song after powerhouse song, but that truly is the case with Cause To Be Uneasy. After just one listen the album proves to be unforgettable, charming and nothing short of extraordinary. The album opens with the quiet, gentle roll of the country-folk of “Ten Dead Dogs,” which proves to serve as a bit of an anomaly. For starters it’s a quirky opening track as it creaks and swirls around like car wheels on a gravel road. Then there are the lyrics; few albums open as grotesquely as this, “I saw ten dead dogs on the side of the road driving late last night to your apartment.” But as the listener waits for more, the song indeed proves to be about nerve-inducing indecision and not canine carnage, “And I thought it was an omen / So I headed on back home / Walked in circles ’round my room.”
While it’s a peculiar opening track it’s anything but terrible. The band tries its hand at bar-room stomp with “Tilt,” as Lovinggood sings, “You’re shaking bad in your sheets, convulsing like you didn’t eat,” before slowing it down on “Seeing and Believing.” The guitars are revved back up again on ” Either/Or” and by the song’s conclusion its very much clear this is as good a first for songs as any album released this year. But it is not the best part of the disc by any stretch.
The nostalgia-laden “Sour Milk,” is one of the album’s true standouts as Lovinggood sings of childhood and suburban youth in a way that paints a cinematic scene. The folksy ramble of “An Atlas to Follow” is another good one but it doesn’t hold a candle to seventh song “House of Regret.” When the song finishes the label of “incredible” can truly be stamped across this band. It almost seems improbably that another stellar track could come forward, but that is indeed the case with the uplifting crackle of “Aretha’s Gold,” a near seven-minute epic that evokes the powerful, thunderous rumbling of Neil Young and Crazy Horse. A spirited song about first love, Lovinggood sings, “And then I kissed your mouth / I felt your past somehow / Oh, and your whole life flashed before my eyes.”
Listening to the record is like stumbling across the next Wilco, this is the true mark of a band that one would suspect would serve as inspiration for many in the years to come. This is an album that bristles with promise, professionalism and poise, and reeks of landmark status. Easily a Top Five Album of the Year, Wild Sweet Orange is indeed ready for their close-up. Not too shabby for a band named after herbal tea.
Preston Lovinggood – vocals, acoustic guitar
Taylor Shaw – guitar, Rhodes, toy piano, vocals
Garrett Kelly – bass, piano, vocals
Chip Kilpatrick – drums, Rhodes, accordion, bells, programming, vocals
Recommended If You Like: Augustana, Bright Eyes, Wilco and Neil Young.
Billy Joel Live on Television: WLIW Strikes Again!
We all know how much I love WLIW and PBS, as evidenced by my many prior posts. Well, can you fault me? The stations just never cease to amaze me. With all the hype over Billy Joel playing the last concert at Shea Stadium the geniuses at WLIW have decided to air the U.S. broadcast premiere of Billy Joel’s 1978 British concert debut - a live television performance on The Old Grey Whistle Test.
During the appearance, the legendary singer/songwriter played a set of now-classic hits, including “Only the Good Die Young,” “Movin’ Out,” “She’s Always a Woman” and “Just the Way You Are,” which earned 1978 Grammy Awards for Record of the Year and Song of the Year. Joel and his band also performed “New York State of Mind” and “Miami 2017 (Seen the Lights Go Out on Broadway)” off 1976’s Turnstiles as well as Piano Man stomper “Ain’t No Crime.” Now, 30 years later, the one-time UK broadcast finally premieres stateside, with its first U.S. broadcast in the Piano Man’s hometown, tomorrow, July 23, at 9 pm on WLIW21. For all you non-New Yorkers, the conc premieres nationwide August 2008 on public television (check local listings).
Fuel economy
To buy or not to buy, that is the question. Gas is at its highest price ever. Forget about inflation and supply and demand. Most consumers are feeling the pinch at the gas pump because gas has gone up over two dollars in the past decade, most of that within the past year. We’d be feeling the same if the price of a Big Mac went up by $2. Heads would roll.
One question on car owner’s minds is “how do I get rid of my great all-powerful truck or SUV?” The price of large vehicles has taken a hard hit in the past few months. Once “too-proud-to-sell-at-that-price” large vehicle owners are actually paying money to get out from under their gargantuan gas-guzzlers.
For those owners I would say, stick with what you’ve got, or at least do the math before you try to sell your Hummer for scrap. Let’s say the price of unleaded is $4. Let’s say at best your SUV is getting an average of 20 MPG. On a 22 gallon tank that’s an average of $80 every time you fill up. If you drive 12,000 miles a year, you are spending $2400 a year on gas alone. And that’s a conservative estimate for those of you who know what I’m talking about. But if you’re a long commuter, you may fill up every week and spend as much or more than $4200.
If you own your vehicle outright, you are talking about at least $20,000 if not $30,000 to purchase a new Civic or Camry. Even used, I would be surprised to see a 1-3 year old fuel efficient car go for less than $20,000. That’s five to ten years of gas right there.
If you owe more than you can sell the car for, consider a) what your monthly payment is; b) how much cash you’ll have to have to get out of the car; and c) how much you spend yearly on fuel and maintenance. For some it is possible to negotiate a dealer trade where they roll your negative equity into the purchase price of a new car. Be careful here. Dealers too often throw in things like rebates, dealer incentives, and attractive financing offers to lure you in. Use an outside source like NADA, Kelly Blue Book, or Edmunds to ascertain a fair market price for the vehicle you are buying and selling. Some other factors to consider about your car is how much your insurance costs, how much do you pay in tag and tax fees every year, and how often are you taking your car in for service and how much does that cost you.
Americans have short memories when it comes to the economy, so $4 for gas right now which seems egregious, will be the norm at some point in the near future. One last tip that might help you absorb that ridiculous gas bill is how much you spend cleaning that car. I’ll tell you I haven’t washed my car in over a year and it looks fine. If I can get by with once a year, you can think about trimming your weekly $20 deluxe car wash and pour that money into your tank.
However, don’t undervalue the worth of your own self-esteem. On the one hand, if you have to drive a 12-cylinder diesel truck and have nothing to do with the construction industry, you might better spend your money on a professional who can help you discover your underlying motivations. On the other, if driving a reasonably priced SUV is what it takes to make you happy, then by all means do so. What’s a few Benjamins when it comes to your happiness?
Want to see a moving film? Check out Sovereignty
The Long Island International Film Expo wrapped up another successful year, earlier this week. The Ali Larter film Crazy took the festival’s top honors, but one of the festival’s biggest surprises was the 19-minute film Sovereignty. Directed by Jonathan Sale, the film draws upon a play by Rolin Jones, the Pulitzer Prize-winning author and producer of the Emmy winning TV show “Weeds.” Lead actress, Heather Dilly, took home best actress honors for the second consecutive year, for her turn as a suburban housewife who turns a deaf ear to domestic abuse. Shot in black-and-white, the film draws upon the Pleasantville idea of marrying 1950’s idealism with 21st century reality. In regards to this, Sale says the following: “The play as it was written was set in modern day America. When I wrote the screenplay, I decided to set it in a faux 1950s, “Leave it to Beaver” setting because I thought that it would visually and subconsciously underscore the idea of a forced façade of propriety masking underlying tensions. At the same time I wanted to maintain important elements of modernity needed to effectively illustrate the theme.”
Equal parts comedic, sardonic and moving, the last seven minutes are gripping and a veritable call to arms to ignorance and standing still. Well-acted by all parties, Sovereignty is next slated to appear at the Rhode Island International Film Festival, the only New England film festival which serves as a qualifier for the Best Short Film Academy Award. It’s past screenings include the Cinquest Film Festival, Hoboken Film Festival, Gasparilla Film Festival and an upcoming slot at the Nonviolence International Film Festival.
Much like the independent film Holly, profiled on this blog this winter, the folks at Manhattan-based Laurel Films, the creative force behind Sovereignty are banding together to rally attention and money towards a greater cause. Of this Sale says, “This is the very first time that we have tried to meld our desire to help the world around us with our passion for filmmaking. I hope it will not be our last. This is the type of film that I love to make, not only entertaining and meaningful but also demanding. This film doesn’t let the audience off easy. It demands action or discussion or at least thought. That, to me, is what art should aspire to.” If only all films could do such things.
Steven Page’s War on Drugs Has Only Just Begun
The best song on Barenaked Ladies’ 2003 album Everything to Everyone is a lyrically profound song called the War on Drugs. The song is deep, detailed and backed by some of the most gorgeous music the band has ever made. To top it all off, it’s vocalist Steven Page at his very best.
Now it appears, the song has become truth. The vocalist was arrested for possession of cocaine after some was found in an apartment in upstate New York. He was released on $10,000 bail and has a future court date.
What’s the irony of this all? Page is in the middle of a children’s book tour.
Oh man, truth is stranger than fiction.
Firefly: Lightning in a Bottle
Joss Whedon first captured our imagination with the Buffy the Vampire Slayer series, which led to a popular spinoff called Angel. However, I somehow missed the Firefly series until the movie version, Serenity, came out.
It’s been only recently that I picked up the first DVD installment of Firefly, a series about a freelance transport/cargo spaceship in some Outer Rim territory and its crew. The captain of the ship, Malcolm Reynolds (Mal), was an officer in a failed rebellion attempt against the Alliance and carries a chip on his shoulder because of it. His able lieutentant, Zoe, played by the ravishing Gina Torres, is married to the ship’s pilot, Wash, but is often torn between her loyalty to her captain and her husband. Jayne is the ship’s man-at-arms, often trigger-happy, politically incorrect, and combative. Rounding out the original crew are Kaylee, the ship’s love-starved peacemaker who serves as the optimistic engineer, and Inara, a high-paid escort who conducts business out of the ship and seems to be torn between her calling and her feelings for the captain.
In the first episode, they pick up the remaining crew as passengers including Simon and River Tam, siblings who are on the run from the Alliance. River has been used as a human guinea pig for the Alliance’s scientific experiments in mind control and human performance enhancement. She is wildly unpredictable and wobbles between her childlike vulnerability to unstable psychopath to normal teenager. Her brother Simon was a wealthy doctor who sunk his money into rescuing her and now regards himself as her caretaker and protector. He becomes the ship’s doctor in return for their protection. The last passenger is Shepherd Book who comes on with no stated destination. He is a Shepherd, a missionary out to save lost souls. He also has a mysterious past and it becomes clear he wasn’t always a man of God.
Firefly is generally styled as a western. Most of the settings look like old westerns complete with tumbleweeds, sagebrush, and dusty saloons. This is explained briefly as planets that underwent terraforming to make them habitable, and they lack civilized technology due the sparse population of frontier planets. There are no aliens and very little unexplained phenomena which usually drive the sci-fi plot. It’s a refreshing take on a space-age society.
It’s a mystery to me why Firefly didn’t survive longer than Angel or Buffy, but for whatever reason we’re left with 14 episodes and a movie. In terms of potential for revival, you can buy the whole catalog for $50-60. Enough of that activity might spur producers to bring Firefly back into production.
If you like Spaceships and Westerns, you’ll love Firefly. The camera work is done in what I like to call “UN-steadycam” and the CGI stays out of the way of the story. The theme song is a catchy folk/country in the opening credits above. In my somewhat inconsistent rating system I would give it a Vulcan neck pinch and a Nanu, Nanu from Mork.
Notes from the Lower East Side: Vol 1.
Ventured down to the Lower East Side last night and was inundated with quality music. The first stop of the night was The Annex and the first performance of the night was not only the surprise of the evening but also the headturner.
A singer/songwriter named Josiah Early performed a set of six acoustic offerings that felt very similar to that of Ryan Adams and the Philly folk band Hoots and Hellmouth. Backed by a blind banjo player he dubbed Blind Cassie, Early rattled off a set that was poised, polished and pristine. Now for the clincher. After the show, he admitted the set was his first performance ever and that picked up the guitar a year-and-a-half ago. My mouth dropped. Everything about the performance had the feel of a seasoned veteran. Lo and behold, Early was not lying, as a Google search only reveals an actor seen in several small films, but whether or not this is the exact person, remains to be seen.
What is certain though is that this Virginia native, who has called New York home for the last seven years, is an incredible talent that has a world of potential in his future. Asked if hee had plans of recording anytime soon, he sheepishly replied, “I think so, yes. I don’t really know what I’m doing. Just getting through tonight was hard. I was nervous as hell.” His response was not only refreshing and sincere, it was heartfelt. Though he chalks up his songs to being a therapeutic response to a broken engagement, the creative talent he put forth in the 35 minute set was nothing short of gorgeous, and clearly a man born with an inherent gift. Though he lacks a Myspace page or a Web site, it’s the hope of this writer that a month from now, that is not the case.
Taking the stage immediately after was the critically acclaimed Justin Jones and The Driving Rain, a much-talked about Washington D.C. quintet who are childhood friends of Early. Jones and his band performed a blistering set of roots-rock that sounded like the lovechild of Jolene and Lambchop. Howling guitar leads gave way to a pocket horn section and alt-country melodies gave way to panged lyrics about romance, the road and desperation. The set that was equal parts proficient, jawdropping and charming. The Driving Rain are a definite band to keep on the radar.
Danny Ross and his six piece band came on next and offered a break from the roots-rock. With a pocket horn section (baritone sax, tenor sax, trumpet) the piano-popper reeled his way through a collection of big, brassy numbers that deviated away from the jazz vibe on his debut EP and soared more towards the likes of Chicago and radio accessibility. Though Ross himself sounded a bit green on the verses, his band managed to pick him up and after a rushed start, he finally seemed to settle down. The band is headed to the Berkshires this week to work with Spin Doctors producer Frank Aversa.
Following up Ross was the hyperkinetic quintet The Prigs, who have been turning heads in New York with their captivating live sets for the better part of a year. After watching Ross and bandmates decked out in suits, it was odd to see The Prigs, who performed in soccer jerseys and baseball caps. The music which has some definite punk influences also draws on a pocket horn section and a veritable blizzard of energy. Though they played to a crowd of only 20, their was enough excitement in their playing to make all of Orchard Street smile. To top it all off, the band was also highly skilled. Members of the band also perform with Old Springs Pike, Via Audio, St. Vincent and Kaki King. The music is best described as Gogol Bordello meets the Dropkick Murphys and maybe a dash of Men at Work. If that sounds bizarre, then see it to believe it.
On my way back to the subway I managed to walk past Rockwood Music Hall and caught the last minutes of personal folk hero James Maddock, who is currently in the studios putting together a disc for the tiny Manhattan label Ascend Re. Maddock’s publishing deal with Razor and Tie Music continues throughout the year and he is often seen supporting Leslie Mendelson, who is also putting the finishing touches on her new album. Mendelson’s co-collaborator alongside Maddock is Steve McEwan, of the British band UnAmerican, who much like Maddock’s old band Wood, brought American roots-rock to the late 90s British landscape. One of UnAmerican’s songs was later covered by Faith Hill.
Taking the stage after Maddock was Ari Hestwho performed under the stage name Mouthbreather. Deciding to step away from his normal repertoire, he sampled stuff from his latest project, the digital, Web-subscription entitled 52. The concept behind the site is that Hest writes a new song each week of the year and gives them to his fans for a certain fee. While this is all well and good, many of the songs sounded hollow and bland in concert and truth be told, Hest is beginning to bore me. Maybe its high expectations or maybe it’s having been spoiled by seeing him live with a backing band, but this was the second time I’ve seen Hest at Rockwood Music Hall and both times I’ve walked out after a couple songs. The same gravitas and charisma that once attracted me to his music is not there anymore. While recorded he still sounds incredible, he’s become too wooden and too earnest live. I dare to say, he’s taking himself too seriously.
Where Did Rock and Roll Go?
Anybody disgruntled with rock music these days? Do singers like Chris Daughtry wear on you? Tired of Chad Kroeger and Nickelback yet? Yearn for the days of Queen, The Police, Elvis Costello and The Clash. Apparently somebody else out in cyberspace does too. A viral marketing Web site entitled Where Did Rock N’ Roll Go, has appeared, and according to other media sources, the Web site has ads on influential Web sites like Idolator, Brooklyn Vegan and OhMyRockness.
New Yorker friends of mine are even reporting that the flyers are plastered all over New York City, as evidenced by the supplied picture. Who exactly is this, and what is the goal? Upon visit to the site, browsers are treated to a howling, garage-blues offering that sounds like a lovechild of The Raconteurs and Wolfmother. A video presentation shows both the (subjective) good and bad aspects of rock and roll in the past 20 years. Viewers are obviously left to agree or disagree with the selections. The words “The Swindle” appear at the bottom and a counter tracks the hours until July 22, which one can presume is the release of whatever media entity this viral Web site is a part of. Documentary? CD? Concert? Care to venture a guess? Stop by the site and come back here and let us know.
In Defense of Tennis
It’s a shame Americans don’t care about tennis. Ever since Pete Sampras retired, this great nation of sports fans has had little interest in watching grand slam tennis. Then again, even when Sampras was king, few watched. What’s most disappointing is that men’s tennis currently has two of the best athletes that have ever stepped on a tennis court in Roger Federer and Rafeal Nadal, and yesterday’s epic championship match was nothing short of stunning. Many have already put it up there with the 1980 Wimbledon Borg and McEnroe match and one can only hope that the epic final will do something to vault tennis into the eye of the American public. If not forever, at least for the upcoming U.S. Open.
How is it possible that two of the greatest men’s tennis athletes to ever play the game are so ignored? Is ethnocentrism still that fervent?
People can call tennis slow and boring, but there’s something awe-inspiring about watching a really good tennis rally that leaves me breathless. While people harp at golfers for not being athletes, it’s hard to knock tennis players. Ever tried playing tennis for three hours in humidity or 90-degree heat? Ever served a tennis ball 125 mph? Ever seen a player with the physique of Phil Mickelson trying his hand at a serve and volley? Point is, tennis players are incredible athletes with incredible skill and yet no one seems to care.
What will it take for Americans to be interested in tennis? Three of golf’s four majors are played on U.S soil, but is it any surprise, three of tennis’ majors are played outside of the United States. How come the Ryder Cup generates hordes of buzz and rumors and the Davis Cup is this has-been, could-care-less event?
It’s a shame really. Yesterday’s match was one of sporting’s greatest achievements and by Wednesday, it won’t be any different from the opening round at the Family Circle Cup. Its too bad too, tennis deserves better.
Alanis’ New Effort is Flavorful and Delicious
Thank God for Alanis Morisette. Everytime she releases an album she does something magnificent, bold and compelling, and her latest album Flavors of Entanglement is certifiable proof of that.
Produced b Guy Sigsworth (Frou Frou, Imogen Heap, Seal, Madonna) it’s a very electronic, beats-inspired and dance heavy offering that goes places Alanis hasn’t gone before and also remains firmly planted in radio-ready, commercial accessibility. More daring than Under Rug Swept, more coherent than Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie and more straightforward than So-Called Chaos, Flavors of Entanglement is a most enjoyable record that bristles, crackles and thumps. Inspired by a love of dance, Alanis admitted she wants the record to be one that people can dance to, and one listen to “Straitjacket,” is proof of that.
Beginning with the industrial and political “Citizen of the Planet,” the disc pushes forward with “Underneath,” the uplifting single that details failures in communication. “Not As We,” is a stark piano ballad that ranks as a career best, and “Versions of Violence,” and “Moratorium” are two of her most original works to date. There’s little filler and little room for error here and that’s what will make this disc worth listening to years from now. Yes there are a few lowpoints but they are brief and far between.
The album has been likened to Maddona’s Ray of Light and while that seems a bit of a lofty comparison, it’s not that much of a stretch. Due to America’s penchant for bypassing dancier albums by pop stars (see Jewel’s 545), the album will probably be a bigger hit abroad than here in the States. But only time will tell on that front.
