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MARTIN'S FOLLY
Man, It's Cold
(Tar Hut)
PEGGED GENERALLY, IF not totally accurately, as working within
the "no depression" genre is this young Brooklyn quartet.
On the one hand, veteran roots-rock producer Eric "Roscoe"
Ambel skillfully steers Martin's Folly through a gritty, vigorous
set; but you're not likely to encounter avant-bassist Tony Maimone
(Pere Ubu) guesting on many alt-country records, eh? The band
tilts more classic than current, referencing both the free-wheeling
folk rock of Tom Petty and the cowboy blues of Green On Red. In
fact, the desperate, organ-driven ballad "Man It's Cold"
locates the intersection between both of those icons. Which is
not to say the group doesn't have its own unique sound. It does,
as evidenced by standout cuts "Throwing Stone," a moody
slice of Muscle Shoals-meets-Memphis rock (nice harmonica and
horn blowing), and "Track 5 Blues," a rousing psychedelic
soul number that belies its modest title and sports a blazing,
funky guitar solo. File these newcomers under "definitely
keep an eye on 'em."
--Fred Mills
FIREBALLS OF FREEDOM
The New Professionals
(eMpTy)
THE SUPER-CHARGED Fireballs of Freedom sound as if they jumped
in H.G. Wells' time machine and resurrected the dead souls of
'70s monster rockers MC5 and '90s Phil Spector-loving proto-punkers,
the Devil Dogs. Then they gulped down a handful of Black Beauties,
plugged into their Marshall amps and transported themselves back
to the dreary Pacific Northwest circa 1999, stealing the best
attributes from both. These novice Portland rocket scientists
have exploded on the scene like a homemade basement distillery
with too much fire underneath and too much crank hovering above.
What a long, strange trip it's been indeed for the Fireballs.
It's hard to fathom these guys originally coming together in the
sleepy, rolling hills of dullsville Montana, of all places. There
ain't no hippy-dippy, sleepy-eyed altrock shoegazing going on
here. This is eye-pokin' punk rock fury that would send Curly
Stooge straight to the moshpit hell-bent on slapstick deconstruction.
The Fireballs deliver raw, loose, savage and psychotic rock-and-roll
that embraces fast cars ("Drag" and "Ten Lanes
to Chinatown"), jaded urban belligerence ("Street Smart"
and "Glass Jaw") and grunge rock hedonism ("Man's
Rock" and "Red Carpet"). Watch out girls--these
self-loving, chauvinistic fashion geeks are heading to a town
near you.
--Ron Bally
ORANJ SYMPHONETTE
The Oranj Album
(Rykodisc)
REMEMBER HOW twisted the world looks when you accidentally drink
too much cough syrup? Well, this quintet's guitarist Joe Gore,
and ex-Tom Waits hornman Ralph Carney, are the Smith Brothers
of contemporary music, with their angular versions of mostly movie
themes no less intriguing than their previous album of schizo
Mancini covers. Themes from The Magnificent Seven and Valley
of the Dolls escape classification as mere novelty due to
their skilled instrumentation clashes (mellotron and banjo on
"Satin Doll") and an encyclopedic ability to reference
tango, German cabaret and Hawaiian music. As is the case with
Waits and John Zorn, it's cartoonish stuff, but entirely reverent
when covering memorable melodies like "Midnight Cowboy"
and "A Man And A Woman." These guys are in on the ground
floor of an almost Dadaistic style of music we'll be hearing for
a long time to come.
--Dave McElfresh
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