Various Artists “The I-10 Chronicles” Back
Porch Records
If you could put Willie Nelson’s snake-bitten lifestyle in
a bottle, perhaps this is how he’d sound. A compilation album
of folk/rock selections, “The I-10 Chronicles” tells a
tale of interstate living that’s one part gnarled beef jerky,
and one part sweet diner key lime pie. Counting Crows’ Adam
Duritz, Buena Vista Social Club’s Eliades Ochoa and Los
Lobos’ David Hidalgo round out an album as varied as a
truck-stop menu and as straightforward as a lonely desert stretch
of road. The premise for this road trip is that we’re all
somehow connected to the I-10 umbilical cord, which stretches
across the southernmost United States and feeds its children a diet
of watery coffee and greasy eggs. Strangely, the best selection on
this dutifully American album is Eliades Ochoa’s “El
Guateque de Don Thomas,” which exudes the same energy that
made Buena Vista Social Club a popular success in the United
States. Back Porch, the division of Virgin Records that produced
the album, explains that Cuban tradition has made its way up into
the Gulf of Mexico and beyond ““ specifically, to the golden
reaches of the I-10. While that may seem like a bit of a stretch,
the addition of Ochoa and accordion player Flaco Jimenez only serve
to make “I-10″ a better album. More natural I-10
choices come in the form of the Santana classic “Black Magic
Woman,” performed by the loungey sounding, harmonica-playing
Charlie Musselwhite, and “Eighteen Inches of Rain,”
performed by underground country legends Bill and Bonnie Hearne
(with a little Willie Nelson back-up on the side).
“Yipi,” performed by Cherokee Rose, provides a
beautiful hybrid of the Native American experience along the I-10,
while Adam Duritz contributes his characteristic whine to the
classic “Carmelita.” The songs heard here are about
leaving and longing, about never really getting home. It’s
like the songwriters have passed road signs saying “If you
lived here, you’d be home now” one too many times.
Simultaneously, these are the kind of songs that enjoy a
crystal-clear guitar solo before going back to complain about the
bitter coffee. In the end, the album is about realizing that no
matter how long you search for a home base, the $29 motel rooms and
the dusty road sound much better. And, of course, no dusty road
trip would be complete without Willie Nelson, the renegade country
singer who has made a living out of being crusty. On
“I-10,” Nelson offers a rendition of Harry
Nilsson’s classic “Everybody’s
Talkin'” with the vocal of wisdom of one who knows what
he’s talking about.
Megan Dickerson Rating: 7
Devo “Pioneers Who Got Scalped ““ The
Anthology” Warner Archives/Rhino
Devo was never a very commercial band (singing “Freedom of
choice is what you got! Freedom from choice is what you
want!” to your audience is the kind of brutal honesty that is
rarely rewarded with stunning record sales). And the musical
arrangements were usually as uncommercial as the lyrics; robots
often seemed to be in charge of the vocals and traditional pop hit
formulas were almost universally eschewed by the band. Yet,
underneath all of that were tunes and musicianship every bit as
accomplished as those of Devo’s bigger-selling peers.
“Pioneers Who Got Scalped ““ The Anthology” is an
excellent chronicle of one of pop music’s greatest, most
influential and certainly most underrated bands. The highlight of
this set and of Devo’s career is an “(I Can’t Get
No) Satisfaction” that conveys the song’s meaning in a
manner that The Rolling Stones never quite captured. Sure, the
Stones’ version is a great rock song and, in the manner of
their best work, a raunchy, exuberant, adrenaline-boosting
experience, but is that really what the song’s about? When
Mick Jagger sings it, does he actually sound like all of the
artificial constructs, habits and rules of society are only serving
to further distance him from some contentment, some accomplishment,
some satisfaction that he can’t quite place his finger on,
but knows is what he most wants and will probably never truly be
able to grasp? Well, when Devo does the song, it sounds very much
like that; “Satisfaction,” while not written by the
group, conveys the message at the core of all of Devo’s work:
We pay a price for our refinement, technology and evolution and
that price is a kind of emotional “devolution.” This
“devolution” separates us from a lot of the things that
really matter and that maybe we really want, deep down in our
collective subconscious, more than all of the perks of modern life.
Also included in the two-disc, 50- song set are band anthem
“Jocko Homo,” the bittersweet “Mongoloid,”
the multiple-layered “The Day My Baby Gave Me a
Surprise,” the perceptive, punk-tinged rocker “Freedom
of Choice,” and for the more top-40 inclined, “Whip
It,” Devo’s only hit. The previously unreleased or hard
to find stuff is also top drawer, especially “Thanks to
You” and “Love Without Anger.”
Gideon Cross Rating: 10
Ween “White Pepper” Elektra
If you ever forget what alternative music sounds like, pop in
Ween’s eighth album and you will remember. If a white pepper
is a metaphor for difference, then the poets have named their album
well. “White Pepper” is, by far, Dean and Gene
Ween’s greatest musical achievement. With an entourage of 15
musicians, the band creates a variety of music only paralleled by
artists like Moby. From the very first song, “Exactly Where
I’m At,” Ween experiments with vocal and musical
synthesizers that blend to form a delightfully cohesive harmony.
“Flutes of Chi,” the album’s best song, follows
with an orgy of stringed instruments and a vocal performance
heavily influenced by The Monkees. The hard-edged rock of
“Stroker Ace” is juxtaposed with the ensuing song,
“Ice Castles,” a purely original instrumental piece
hearkening back to the Middle Ages. And let’s not forget the
hilarious Caribbean tune “Bananas and Blow,” featuring
steel drums that do more justice for Ween than they did for the
Little Mermaid. Pay no attention to the parental advisory warning.
There was one reference to fellatio and the repeated use of the
word “blow” (slang for cocaine), but that’s about
it. The only beef you might have with the album is the band’s
invention of words like “grobe” and
“fackler.” But that can’t be all too bad.
Shakespeare invented words all the time. If you’re the kind
of person who likes different genres of music, but can’t burn
your desired tunes onto a CD, do yourself a favor and get this
album. You will be amazed when you start singing along after the
very first listening session.
Nima Abtahi Rating: 8
Ian Brown “Golden Greats” Interscope
Records
If music is an intellectual exercise for you, then “Golden
Greats” is the equivalent of a glossy fashion magazine. On
the first listen, the new album from former Stone Roses lead singer
Ian Brown hits you like a sonic brick, redefining the term
“overproduction.” The first track, “Gettin’
High,” opens with the vast, ethereal sounds of a synthesized
sitar with gong accompaniment, which works as the aural equivalent
of incense. This quickly segues into a percussion-heavy,
guitar-driven piece about missed romantic opportunities. What is
most captivating about the song, and the album in general, is the
variety of images conjured up by the production effects. The
percussion track to “Gettin’ High” sounds as if
it were recorded using industrial machinery as stand-ins for
musical instruments. Brown’s songwriting skills definitely
reside more in the instrumental than the lyrical. Lyrics such as
“I could climb every mountain / For your love is like a
fountain,” from the single “Love Like a
Fountain,” feel formulaic and trite. What Brown lacks in
lyrical ingenuity he makes up for in sheer musical muscle.
“Golden Gaze” combines the crunch of menacing
synthesizers with hand-picked guitar, sounding like the lost
soundtrack to the action movie inside of your head.
“Neptune” provides the answer to the question,
“What would modern R&B percussion tracks,
stream-of-consciousness narration, and Oasis sound like if they
were put in a blender?” Ultimately, “Golden
Greats” is a treat for your ears and a disappointment for
your mind.
Julia Ingalls Rating: 6