[Covers]
Various artists
Cinnamon Girl: Women Artists Cover Neil Young for Charity
*** 1/2
What it lacks in star wattage, this American Laundromat Records tribute album makes up for in reinvention, with 21 solo females and female-fronted bands bringing a more reserved smolder to the righteous anger burning at the heart of the Neil Young catalog.
Conceived and spearheaded by Laundromat founder Joe Spadoro—whose mother Nadine died in 2005 after a lengthy battle with breast cancer—Cinnamon Girl will see all of its profits support charity Casting for Recovery. Survivors Sheryl Crow and Melissa Etheridge would seem shoo-ins to participate, but the two discs instead top out at Jill Sobule, Veruca Salt and The Watson Twins.
That’s not to say the music itself is underwhelming; far from it. Acoustic introspection takes precedence over electric originals, and it’s easy to see why shaggier, Godfather of Grunge-ier numbers like “Rockin’ in the Free World” weren’t included. Here the focus is on retaining Young’s solid core of dismay and frustration while softening the lyrical blow with piano flourishes and lilting harmonies. It’s a successful ploy that demands pausing, leaning in and actively listening to standouts, including Elk City’s stunningly haunting version of “Helpless” and Britta Phillips’ loping “I Am a Child.”
Elsewhere contest-winner Amilia K. Spicer’s take on “Only Love Can Break Your Heart” evokes a less world-weary Emmylou Harris, Cindy Wheeler convincingly sells the gender twist inherent in “Old Man,” and Heidi Gluck closer “Walk On” is as sunny as things get on the folkish, singer-songwriter-heavy collection. Overall it’s not a case of “We Are Women, Hear Us Roar,” but the purposefully subdued Cinnamon Girl creates a considerable noise all the same.
–Julie Seabaugh
[Adult Pop]
Sheryl Crow
Detours
*** 1/2
When Sheryl Crow put out 2005’s Wildflower, she was happily engaged to cyclist Lance Armstrong, to whom she dedicated the album. And yet the songs were almost universally quiet, slow and morose, like Crow was devoting all her energy and happiness to her relationship. Since then, she’s broken up with Armstrong and survived a battle with breast cancer, and her latest disc, Detours, deals explicitly with her personal issues and growing political discontent. At the same time, it’s far more upbeat and catchy than Wildflower, coating its often bitter lyrics and messages in sweet, slick pop arrangements and melodies.
Reuniting with producer Bill Bottrell, who helmed her 1993 debut, Tuesday Night Music Club, Crow brings a bright, poppy sound to serious songs like “Love Is Free” (about Hurricane Katrina victims) and “Out of Our Heads” (about the futility of war). Much of the album recalls her early carefree sound, only with heavier subject matter; “Gasoline” is like “All I Wanna Do (Is Get People to Be Environmentally Responsible).”
The second half of the album switches from the political to the personal, focusing on Crow’s break-up, about which she is alternately scared (“Now That You’re Gone”), wistful (“Love is All There Is”) and completely devastated (“Diamond Ring,” which breaks the album’s poppy façade with Crow raggedly singing, “Diamond ring/F--ks up everything”). Like the best break-up albums, Detours lays all of Crow’s feelings bare, and sometimes it reaches too far (the Arabic vocals on “Peace Be Upon Us” are too close to self-important Madonna territory). But it’s more engaging and passionate than anything she’s done in a while; being hurt and angry seems to have brought out the best in her.
–Josh Bell
[Indie Pop]
Say Hi
The Wishes and the Glitch
*** 1/2
Considering Say Hi to Your Mom’s standing among music’s all-time dumbest band names, it hardly seemed possible for Eric Elbogen to don an alias lamer by comparison. Ha. Not only is Say Hi, the do-it-yourself Brooklynite’s truncated new version, entirely forgettable (an accusation never lobbed at the original), it portends a bid at maturation by an artist beloved for crafting goth-pop ditties about vampire rivalries and android love.
Sure enough, a key track on fifth album The Wishes and the Glitch, “Back Before We Were Brittle,” turns a developmental corner, shedding mirthful adolescence for nostalgic yearning: “Maybe we should move some place new, and build time machines/To go and get us back/Back before we were brittle.” Say Hi to Your Dad?!? Even more startling are the disc’s final lines, “All my pictures have oxidized/And fountain of youth, you’ve failed me for the last time.”
Not to worry, though; Elbogen’s characteristically youthful arrangements balance out any grown-up sentiments, and the boyish lyricist re-emerges to riff about Ms. Pac-Man on “Bluetime” (“Sue’s harmless but Blinky’s the sneak”) and beg a girlfriend—or could it be his fan base?—to stick with him on “Oboes Bleat and Triangles Tink,” with an offer of some good ol’ juvenile behavior (“We can do something else if you want/We can fly a kite in a lightning storm”).
No need for Eric to electrocute himself. He remains a fountain of effervescent hooks, smartly placed synths and quirky turns of phrase. Even if we don’t have Your Mom to kick around anymore.
–Spencer Patterson
[Rock]
Lenny Kravitz
It Is Time for a Love Revolution
***
The title of Lenny Kravitz’s eighth studio album feels like an urgent call for romance reform. But isn’t the rocker’s entire career—from the smoldering soul of “Let Love Rule” stretching to the fuzzed-out strut of “Lady”—based on the transformative power of love?
Revolution is nothing more than a solid addition to Kravitz’s catalog, and exactly what you expect from him: a collection of neo-classic-rock songs performed with gusty bravado and profound vulnerability. “Love Revolution” scalds with hot Hendrix licks, while the album’s monstrous first single, “Bring It On,” rumbles with Godzilla-strength Zeppelin-isms. Strings decorate the slower “Good Morning,” while Kravitz’s distinctive blues-soul wail meshes perfectly with a gospel choir on the near-twang slow-burn “If You Want It.”
Like past Kravitz albums, Revolution is overly long and becomes monotonous about halfway through—as on the disappointingly repetitive “Dancin’ Til Dawn,” whose otherwise colorful saxophone solo and funky bass line echoes Talking Heads’ wiry funk (via their cover of Al Green’s “Take Me to the River”). And lyrically, Revolution’s simplistic platitudes and even more basic rhymes are nothing to write home about. But it’s not as though people look to Kravitz to break any new musical ground—or foment any sort of revolution. Being a dependable artist who creates consistently enjoyable, retro-fabulous albums is more than enough.
–Annie Zaleski
[Indie Rock]
British Sea Power
Do You Like Rock Music?
** 1/2
By “rock music,” British Sea Power, not surprisingly, mean indie-rock music—really, indie-rock music that has ascended to the mainstream. Album opener “All In It” sounds a lot like a fuzzier version of Modest Mouse’s crossover smash “Float On.” And while this isn’t the first Modest Mouse song you’d think of British Sea Power, um, being inspired by, you have to believe Mouse leader Isaac Brock’s going to let it go (after all, the members of Bishop Allen are still alive). Especially because “Float On” is a better song.
The instrumental “The Great Skua” wouldn’t be out on place on a My Morning Jacket or Band of Horses album. You’ll also hear traces of Franz Ferdinand’s angular posing and Arcade Fire’s calculated chaos on the album. And as with other British bands, songs that say not much more than “Let’s have a really good time at the pub tonight” fill out the album.
But perhaps more than anything else, these guys like to pound their instruments until they hit epic crescendos that take a slow-burning song right into an inferno (see: “Canvey Island”). You could pick worse music for a road trip on a sunny day.
–Andy Wang