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DECEMBER WIND
Sacred Voices
(Canyon Records)
RED ROAD TRAVELERS whose musical philosophy is deeply steeped
in their Akwesasne Mohawk heritage (one member of the quintet
is a non-Native), December Wind's stylistic bent is nevertheless,
and unapologeticroup's debut, handily bridges any perceived cultural
gaps in the same way that Bill Miller, John Trudell, Burning Sky
and Keith Secola all make the leap: speaking from the heart by
invoking common imagery alongside iconic metaphor, and fusing
elements of folk, blues, pop and traditional music into one seamless
musical whole.
For example, the lengthy "Where Are My People," sung
in both English and a Native language presumed to be Mowhawk,
has an unhurried first movement comprising acoustic guitars and
rattles; it gives way to a gentle folk-rock section which in turn
leads to a churning finish replete with a chiming, neopsychedelic
electric solo. (The tune wouldn't be out of place on a Tom Petty
record.) Other highlights include the funky, skanking "Fisherman";
a roots-rocker appropriately titled "Sacred Drum" that
features a compelling Bo Diddleyesque beat; and a jangly, anthemic
powerpop love song, "Share My Blanket," which for all
intents and purposes resurrects the classic Arizona "desert
rock" sound that ruled the region in the late '80s and early
'90s. Simply put, this is an unexpected pleasure that will appeal
to a broad base of listeners.
--Fred Mills
Boogaloo Joe Jones
Legends of Acid Jazz Vol. 2
(Prestige)
UNHERALDED GUITARIST boogaloo Joe Jones was a master technician
of the late '60s/early '70s soul-jazz idiom, as exemplified by
his deft touch, nimble fingerboard expertise and extraordinary,
untapped talent. On these monumental 1970-'71 recordings (predecessors
to the acid-jazz phenomenon), Jones' homegrown funk evokes memories
of the great rhythm guitarists who roused James Brown. Vol.
2 encompasses the Prestige album's "No Way!" and
"What It Is," showcasing Jones' impressive six-string
dexterity, a funky Hammond B-3 organ and the tight, fatback drumming
of Bernard Purdie.
On the leadoff track "No Way," Purdie provides a driving
beat that alternates with Jones' focused groove, mixing repeated
riffing with slicing, tenacious aggression. Though critically
ignored, the contagious dance rhythms and enormous popularity
of this percussive-heavy jazz expression ultimately disintegrated
(resulting in the robotic disco vibes of Van McCoy, the flashy
R&B/funk of Herbie Hancock and the smooth jazz of saxophonist
Grover Washington, Jr.). Ironically, Washington turns up here
on the marvelous cover of Bill Withers' "Ain't No Sunshine,"
blowing soulful, understated sax accompaniment to Jones' furious
albeit soft instrumental strokes. Jones also unearths several
self-penned funk-jazz instrumentals, like "Fadin' "
and "Inside Job," the latter of which owes more to the
shuffle-blues style of John Lee Hooker than the lyrical finesse
of Charlie Christian (Jones' other major influence besides Tal
Farlow and Wes Montgomery). These 12 phat tracks, reissued specifically
for today's voracious and adoring acid-jazz crowd, rightfully
place Jones as the funkiest bad-ass guitar slinger of his time.
--Ron Bally
Sunny Day Real Estate
How It Feels To Be Something On
(Sub Pop)
IN 1994, SUNNY Day Real Estate released its debut album
Diary. Widely heralded as the savior of the rapidly declining
Sub Pop Records empire, SDRE began a new wave of emo-rock that
was at once more accessible and more compelling than any of its
predecessors. Unfortunately, due to the religious leanings of
the band's singer/guitarist Jeremy Enigk, the band split in 1995
with the rhythm section going on to form the Foo Fighters and
Enigk pursuing a solo career.
Flash to today. The band has worked out its differences and is
back as a cohesive unit releasing the much-anticipated How
It Feels To Be Something On. By far their best work to date,
the album finds the band again embracing the wild contradictions
between introspection and emotional release while fluidly fusing
the two. This time the band has taken a turn away from the noisy
and focused on the quieter, more ethereal elements of their sound,
much to the benefit of the overall feeling of the record. Even
with the lower volume, the album is still infused with SDRE's
characteristic urgency and melancholy and is even enhanced by
the quiet. To complete the feel of the package, they've again
enlisted the services of the exceedingly talented Chris Thompson
to create the artwork. Thompson's work is just as contradictory
and thought-provoking as the band's music, and together they've
created a CD that will be the emo touchstone for years to come.
--Jack Vaughn
NECESSARY EVILS
The Sicko Inside Me
(In The Red)
THE NECESSARY EVILS sound is like alien punk music. Imagine:
the kind of creepy, blood-curdling and totally abrasive science
fiction pulsation that would appeal to space creatures as they
tore the limbs from the bodies of poor Sigourney Weaver's crew
of Marines. Not a pretty sight, is it? Well, neither are the Necessary
Evils.
Take a listen to the squalling, intergalactic garage skronk emitted
from this otherworldly psycho-delic trash outfit and you'll understand
what the hell this alien phenomenon is all about. Ex-Fireworks
guitar demon James Arthur unleashes sinister leads from his six-string
ray gun; vocalist Steve Pallow elicits the brutish screams of
the Dirtbombs' Mick Collins (with inspiration from '50s low-budget
sci-fi movies and '60s garage punk rather than '70s funk/R&B
and blaxploitation flicks.) Check out Pallow's spine-tingling
shrieks on "Brainwasher." Gory, horrific and excruciatingly
painful--these are the trademarks of the Necessary Evils. If the
Mono Men met the early Butthole Surfers on this dark lunar surface,
they'd supernova into the Necessary Evils.
The fantastical cover of the Seeds' "The Gypsy Plays His
Drums" startles as well as intoxicates with hypnotic fuzz-driven
guitars conjuring a fiendish lab experiment of piercing leads
and nasty bogeymen drum beats that offend as well as devastate,
climaxing in an audio shower of doomsday proportions.
--Ron Bally
JUNKO ONISHI
Fragile
(Blue Note)
ONISHI IS ONE of far too few jazzers willing to update
what '70s fusion gave jazz in terms of new standards and instrumental
textures. The pianist/vocalist, who has played with Joe Henderson,
Jackie McLean, Joe Lovano and Gary Thomas, here splits her delicate
acoustic touch and '70s fusion-era electric piano tone between
her own compositions and unlikely pop fare. "You've Lost
That Lovin' Feelin'" plays off a funky bass figure for over
11 minutes, while "Hey Joe" (nearly as long and Hendrix-heavy)
catapults jazz-plays-blues far beyond predictability. "Sunshine
Of Your Love" is the nastiest offering, with Onishi's vulgar
organ work spitting in the face of every jazzbo who's grown too
comfortable with Gershwin covers.
--Dave McElfresh
THE MATRIX
Music From The Motion Picture
(Maverick)
TSK, TSK. WHAT'S one to do when the movie really knocked
your socks off, music included, but the accompanying soundtrack,
like, blows? Funny: in the movie the sonics and visuals meshed,
the strategically chosen product-placement tunes (quick! how
many bands on the CD also have contracts with Maverick or Warner's
affiliates?) not relegated to the usual being-played-over-the-radio-while-the-lunatic-guts-the-chick
scenario. Separated from the screen, however, this is the kind
of demographic-conscious collection that infects soundtrack bins
like so much musical genital herpes. Watch out kids, that skin
test at the infirmary's gonna hurt.
Feel their pain: Marilyn "Mr. Columbine High" Manson's
pitiful attempt to remain relevant, "Rock Is Dead"
(even though The Doors beat him by almost 30 years with a song
of the same title); cartoon nihilists Ministry's take on cyber-gearhead
rawk ("Bad Blood"); the '90s versions of KC & The
Sunshine Band and Grand Funk Railroad (respectively, The Prodigy's
shapeless technofunkin' "Mindfields" and the Deftones'
one-note riffology lesson "My Own Summer"); and the
formerly respected Rage Against The Machine, who took a wrong
turn en route to another stupid benefit for Philly cop-killer
Mumia Abu-Jamal and wound up on the set of a Led Zep video (the
"Kashmir" ripoff "Wake Up"). Only Meat Beat
Manifesto's sleek, dubby techno ("Prime Audio Soup")
and Monster Magnet's grand psychedelic backflip ("Look To
Your Orb For The Warning") save this sorry collection from
instant used-store flotsam. Come to think of it, those two groups
should hook up and collaborate on the score to the inevitable
The Matrix II.
--Fred Mills
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