

Reviews, previews, and other critical ramblings


When the Shillelagh
Meets the Hood
The staggeringly diverse recording also features an
ode to Lynott's grandmother Sarah, ballads influenced by heroes Elvis Presley and Van Morrison, trade-
mark—downright silly—stomper "The Rocker," and
the heaviest funk jam of his entire career, "Black Boys on the
Corner." All of which is to say that Lynott's work was the product of a specific time, place, and sensibility, yet continues to gain
resonance with each year, from the inclusion of his songs in literally hundreds of movies and television shows, and even an
upcoming big screen biopic. By taking a song-by-song look
at Vagabonds, I will outline the contradictions that defined
Phil Lynott—and make his music more relevant than ever.
Danger Mouse, The Grey Album, Bootleg [2004]
I don't hear any Beatles on the first track, "Public Service Announcement," but the second, "What More Can I Say," makes extensive use of "While My Guitar Gently Weeps." The third, "Encore," opts for "Glass Onion." Track four, "December 4th," is built around the break from "Cry Baby Cry." Wow. This is where things really come together (as the Beatles might say). Shawn Carter, AKA Jay-Z, recites his biography over one of the Beatles' loveliest melodies. In a perfect world, this would've been released as a single.
Dungeon Family, Even in Darkness, Arista [2001]
Or maybe that should be an army of films, since I do tend to gravitate toward the art house.
Since I caught 300 films this year, my top 30 represents 10%. Unfortunately, that means I had to give the boot to the eminently enjoyable Russian Dolls and Wristcutters - A Love Story, because I couldn't find space for them. (The latter remains undistributed, which is a shame.)
Second Runners-up:
Documentaries:
Re-releases
The following comes from a piece in Salon about controversial Nobel laureates. I've always thought Samuel Beckett was The Man as far as playwrights are concerned. I have a great deal of admiration for those who can say so much with so few words, and Beckett was a masterful minimalist.
Aereogramme, My Heart Has a Wish That You Would Not Go, Sonic Unyon Recording Company [2/6/07]*****
Compared to their debut, My Heart Has a Wish is a kinder, gentler affair. Granted, the title comes from a line in The Exorcist that didn't make it into William Friedkin's frightfest, but there's nothing scary going on here. In fact, the Scottish quartet are sounding more like fellow heart-on-their-sleeves countrymen Snow Patrol these days and less like the more elliptical British and American acts they once called to mind: My Bloody Valentine, Slint, etc.
I'm not sure this is an improvement. The band always had a strong sense of melody, but I miss the angst. Perhaps they got it out of their system on the Seclusion EP or the In the Fishtank collaboration with Isis (I couldn't say, because I haven't heard either 2006 release). From an instrumental perspective, there's more going on here--strings, bells, etc.--but Craig B.'s singing is more conventionally pop-oriented. Not bad, but needs more edge.
And here's my Tablet review of their first record:
Aereogramme, A Story in White, Matador (2002)
Like Arab Strap and Mogwai, Aereogramme hails from Glasgow and shares a label, Chemikal Underground, which licensed this release to Matador. While listening to A Story in White, however, visions of American acts of the 1990s, like Slint and Seam, danced in my head. Maybe it's because I'm more familiar with the US arm of the loud-soft axis, but Aereogramme takes me back to those days. (Their guitar squall also reminds me of Swervedriver, but I always thought those Oxford lads sounded more American than British.) Not that there's anything retro about this recording; the quieter sections are just as likely to incorporate electronic blips and beeps as cello and piano. What distinguishes Aereogramme most are Craig B.'s vocals, which range from tender and boyish to throat-shredding anguish--and his are not the lyrics of a happy guy--but the overall effect is more cathartic than gloomy.
Endnote: The Heart Has a Wish press release indicates that Craig B. has been dealing with serious throat problems of late, so Aereogramme's stylistic change is also about self-preservation--better to have a "small" voice than none at all.
Still, I miss the caterwauling of yore. Also, A Story in White was followed by Sleep and Release in 2003, so Heart is actually album number three.
As for The Exorcist, I saw it the year it came out (I was eight; the other kids were jealous, because their parents wouldn't take them to an R-rated film). Suffice to say it terrified the, uh, hell out of me. Tried to watch it on TV four years later and couldn't get through it--even with edits, commercial breaks, etc. I was babysitting and had just put the little girl to bed; the timing couldn't have been worse (strange house, no companions, etc.).
I caught the director's cut a few years ago and got through it without shielding my eyes. It remains the scariest movie ever made. The most disturbing thing about seeing it as a kid is that all the horrible stuff happens because of a kid. Knowing that Satan was the true culprit did nothing to set my mind at ease. I'm still glad I saw it when I did. Images from MovieMaze and the AMG.
I'm just riffing on the title of Cat Power's latest. I don't really present any of these titles as "the greatest." They're just my favorite records, reissues, and singles of the year--nothing more to it than that.
11. Lady Sovereign - Public Warning (Def Jam/Universal)
Northwest Notables:
In early September, I interviewed Rachael and Nathan from Brightblack Morning Light by email for a profile that ran in the Seattle Weekly later that month. (They prefer to be addressed as Rabob and Nabob, so I went with the flow.) As with most such pieces, I was only able to use a few quotes--the word count was 750--so for those who'd like to learn more about the duo, here's the complete transcript. I would also recommend Daniel Chamberlin's interview in the July issue of Arthur. Expect to see Brightblack Morning Light's Matador debut making a lot of top 10 lists for 2006. 
While writing for Tablet (2001-2005), I contributed three Mick Collins-related reviews. Since the local alt-monthly n'existe pas, I'm reproducing them here so as to continue to spread the gospel (hey Collins, if you ever find yourself in need of a new publicist, look no further!). I've included the grades/scores I gave each effort at the time. Though Tablet began by using numerical scores, in the final year, we assigned grades, much like the Seattle P-I or Entertainment Weekly. Note that the word count also shrank between 2003-2005, hence the mini-review at the end.
Mick Collins claims he doesn't play garage. You could've fooled me. I thought all Collins projects—the Gories, the Screws, etc.—were garage. After giving it a good listen, however, I think he's got a point regarding the Dirtbombs' third. Consequently, my first reaction was disappointment. Far from slick, Dangerous Magical Noise is simply more polished than that grimy new Blacktop collection, I Got a Baaad Feeling About This. It also rocks. Hard. Very hard indeed (two bass players and two drummers can do that). It's just not "garage." Once I got over my surprise, I couldn't stop playing the thing. Collins does, after all, profess an affinity for glam, and the influence of T-Rex and Sweet permeates the entire romping, stomping enterprise. (Along with Hendrix and the MC5.) Plus, the disc includes great covers of "King's Lead Hat" and "Executioner of Love." One of the year's best.
Here's another alternate/unpublish-
Speaking of which, did