Sand - The West Is Best (Zip)
www.ziprecords.com

Sand is actually a collaboration between legendary producer, writer, manager, svengali, and rock impresario, Kim Fowley and Roy Swedeen, perhaps most famous as the last drummer in the (also legendary) cult rockers, The Misunderstood. They gave us such prized guitar gods as Glenn Ross Campbell (who later formed Juicy Lucy) and Tony Hill (later of High Tide and currently a solo artist with an album on Nick (The Bevis Frond) Saloman's Woronzow imprint. Kim, of course, gave us The Hollywood Argyles ("Alley Oop"), The Rivingtons ("Papa-Oom-Mow-Mow"), The Runaways, Venus & The Razorblades, The Orchids and wrote, co-wrote, and/or produced material for Gram Parsons, BTO, Soft Machine, Cat Stevens, Mott The Hoople, Warren Zevon, The Byrds, Beach Boys, Alice Cooper, etc. Essentially, he invented rock 'n' roll, or at least helped commercialize it. In effect, he knows a hit record when he hears it...because he probably wrote or produced it!

So, what have these old cowpokes wrought? If you accept the fact that there is more "sand" in the desert than at the beach, you'll begin to catch the whiff of where these guys heads are at - forget fun, sun, and half-nekkid bimbos bouncing up and down the shoreline--this is swamp gas-induced, low-down and dirty, mean, lean and obscene, honky tonkin', get-drunk-and-fightin' music from two originals who've never sounded better, fresher, or more alive. While Fowley co-wrote all but three of these tracks, his appearance is limited to lead vox on only a quarter of these dozen excursions into swampadelic surf music (or is that surfadelic swamp music), so this is essentially a Roy Swedeen solo album (complimented quite nicely on a few tracks by Chris Darrow and Max Buda, co-founders of the US Kaleidoscope and members of the studio band that backed Leonard Cohen on his debut Songs of album; Darrow was also a founder of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and led the musicians on James Taylor's Fire and Rain album--so, we're not dealing with a bunch of namby-pamby, wet-behind-the-ears, wimps here--these guys know their way around the studio and their pores sweat rock and roll!)

And what an album it is. Shades of Zappa and Beefheart permeate "Road To Hollywood," and "Renegade," "Garage Mirage," and "Blue Surf" are nifty, desert stormin' surf instrumentals. The tasty "At The Chili Cook-Off" is a narly, Edmunds-esque twanger, with a how-low-can-you-go Leon Redbone-inspired vocal from Swedeen; think ZZ Top Go Rockabilly. The title track crosses "Hoochie Coochie Man" sensibilities with some swampadelic, Louisiana Lightning a la Creedence Clearwater Revival (in fact, "Area Code 909" is one of the best songs John Fogarty never got around to finishing), and Fowley returns to his white trash roots on "Trailer Parks After Dark."

Highly recommended to down and dirty, trailer trashin' fans of swamp- and surfedelica, who carry honky tonk saloonbeams home in a jar of Uncle Joe's homemade "recipe." If you have any Edmunds, Creedence, Howlin' Wolf, Bo Diddley, Dick Dale, Zappa, Beefheart, Jon and The Nightriders, etc. in your collections, make room for this one.

Keith John Adams - Sunshine Loft (DCBaltimore2012)
www.dcbaltimore2012.com

This is sparse, home-made novelty folk from British singer/ songwriter Adams, apparently a Walthamstow neighbor of premiere bedroom recording artist, Nick (The Bevis Frond) Saloman. The childlike melodies and Adams' rudimentary vocal skills are aided greatly by the unusual arrangements and instrumentation (including accordion, toy piano, saw, and glockenspiel) that he and his friends play up in drummer Dave Ross' loft. Leadoff track "Sunshine" benefits from the theremin-like warblings of Rhodri Marsden's sawplaying, while "Sit Over There"'s a capella vocals are accompanied only by Adams and his toy piano. The enthusiastic "Looking At Pictures" is an odd marriage of early-period Ray Davies and late-period Syd Barrett, and the carnival-like atmosphere of "Flood" recalls the best of Neutral Milk Hotel. The stop/start staccato attack of "Drift" would sit comfortably on The Clash's debut album

Most of all, it's the weirdo, loner folk of fellow loonies, Brother JT, Jandek, Billy Childish, the Mountain Goats' John Darnielle, and Michigan avant-folkster, Wally Pleasant that springs to mind throughout these short, occasionally clever, and not altogether unpleasant melodies. Adams' pleasant demeanor is another plus - he's obviously having a good time up in his Sunshine Loft, and you will too if you enjoy low-fi, stripped down, bare bones, minimalistic home recordings. There's even a throwback to the old Pearls Before Swine/Green Pajamas' trick of listening to the entire album rewind (or fast forward as the case may be) in the closing track, "This Album."

Flaming Fire - Songs From The Shining Temple (Perhaps Transparent)
www.perhapstransparent.com

Imagine Nina Hagen and Lydia Lunch dueling tonsils over the industrial, electro-metallic cacophony of Nine Inch Nails. Then invite The Residents to stage Wagner's Ring of the Niebelungen in your backyard and cast it with Gong Show and American Idol rejects, season lightly with the B-52's at their zaniest, and toss it all in a blender and you've got the concept behind the performance anti-artistry of Flaming Fire. 

Only the Bongwater-meets-Spike Jones' silliness of "Your Love Belongs To Me" and the delicate(!) harmonies of "Goddess Of War" (although vocalist Lauren Weinstein's solo, atonal warbling will send shivers up your spine) warrant repeated listens in this amateurish slopfest.

In the end, it's all pseudo-intellectual, artsy-fartsy, neo-hippie bullshit, which should be confined to the sewers of Brooklyn from whence it emerged.

Daughter - Skin (AUM Fidelity)
www.aumfidelity.com

More rancid, unlistenable horseshit from the streets of NYC. First off, I hate hardcore: middle/upper-class kids banging on their guitars and screaming about how horribly boring their lives are, despite the cell phones, internet, fancy cars, high-speed computers and other accoutrements cluttering up their personal space. Second, hip-hop (and a bunch of spoiled white kids trying to be black) is not far down the list on my disgust meter. So if you're gonna combine these worthless time wasters, you're really in deep do-do. Add to that, inept playing, tuneless, foul-mouthed wailing and tinny, muddied production and it's impossible to even attempt to listen to what they have to say.

Halfway through vocalist Mary Louise Platt's collection of headache-inducing, screeching nonsense, the band decides to give white-rappin', hip-hop a go on tracks like "Blunt," "Packin'" and "Hands In The Pants." If there's anything worse than whining, sorry-assed crybabies complaining about their humdrum lives, it's whining, sorry-assed white kids trying to be black. Daughter doesn't know whether they want to be a white rap band or a potty-mouthed, hardcore band. I'm interested in neither and they fail at both.

The Tyde - Twice (Rough Trade)
www.roughtradeamerica.com

Beechwood Sparks put out a brilliant single on Bomp! and then spoiled everything with a boring, shit-assed album of country-rock snoozers. Now, 3/4 of the band are back masquerading as The Tyde on this, their second album (the title picks up where their debut, Once, left off). Again, the fascination with Sweethearts of The Rodeo is apparent, but this time they tone down the boring, alt-country, lame-ericana in favor of pop psych trappings lifted off any number of Felt albums, particularly evident on "Crystal Canyons." (In fact, leader Darren Rademaker's fascination with Lawrence's pop genius is second only to Michael from Watoo Watoo, but since Americans are such damn xenophobes when it comes to their music, they've most likely never heard (of) this brilliant French band, so are left with this pale imitation.)

Problems abound on this poorly recorded sophomore effort (the overly distorted vocals on "Henry VII" and "Takes A Lot of Tryin'," which tries to come off like The Hives making a c&w album, render them nearly unintelligible), not the least of which is its total lack of originality. "Best Intentions" and "Breaking Up The Band" are pure, unabashed, tears-in-your-beers weepers with Radiohead pretensions; "Blood Brothers" cops it's riff form an old Luna song, and "Shortboard City" is one of those honky tonk ditties that Ian Hunter and Mick Ronson used to toss off in their sleep. 

There are a few ringers sprinkled throughout, however, that rescue the album from immediate dispersal to the cut-out bins. "Go Ask Your Dad" has an AM-radio-friendly melody that'll stick in your head for days; the cheesy, mock-80s synth slithering throughout the infectious "Memorable Moments" sounds like "In Between Days"-era Cure; and the closing "New D" is an obvious homage to Shellfish-era Church (not surprising since legendary L.A. scenester, Waddy Wachtel produced that one).

Overall, a pleasant listen to Rademaker's record collection that will be best appreciated by fans of the same bands.

Holly Golightly - Truly She Is None Other (Damaged Goods)
www.damagedgoods.co.uk

The extremely prolific Golightly is just as brilliant on her eleventh solo album as she was on her first, a mere eight years ago. The former Headcoatee and Billy Childish protégé immediately grabs your attention with the opening sultry Sinatra (as in Nancy) swagger of "Walk A Mile" and doesn't let go until the baker's dozen tunes end with, er, "There's An End." The plucky, syncopated twang of "All Around the Houses" is just one of the many treats awaiting listeners of this gnarly, Girls in the Garage-style collection of 60s babes with boppin' beats and a bitchin' backing band, led by Holly herself on guitar.

"Without You Here" is just one of several tracks boasting a tasty guitar solo and the mournful, suicide-note pleas of "One Neck" remind me of the tearjerkers Leslie Gore used to sing back in the day. One could say the vibe throughout is one of "Gore Goes Garage," not surprising considering Holly's Headcoatees' upbringing. "Black Night" is a successful attempt to vary the attack with an old blues cover, coming on like a sexy, Maria Muldaur at the oasis over a gently-picked, rolling acoustic backing lifted straight off an old Donovan song (perhaps "Sunny South Kensington"?) And get a load of the inspired Hope Sandoval impersonation on "Sent"! If Dave Roback, this country's greatest guitar asset is of a mind to start another band, here's the perfect foil to build it around.

The only downside is that Holly's limited vocal range keeps all the songs in the same monotonic delivery style, which gets a little dry by album's end, but this is a minor quibble and, therefore, Holly Golightly is highly recommended.

California Oranges - Oranges & Pineapples (Darla)
www.darla.com

This Sacramento-area band (Roseville, to be exact) began life as Holiday Flyer, which released four enjoyable twee-pop albums before the Conley siblings splintered into California Oranges (guitarist, John) and Sinking Ships (drummer, Katie - debut full length, Out of Key Harmony was released by Darla last year)--both bands share former Flyer bassist, Verna Brock and are rounded out by the Levine twins, Matt & Ross. Family trees aside, power pop is alive and well on their sophomore effort, which is everything the disappointing Rubinoos' reunion album of cover tunes could (and, twenty years ago, would) have been. Once again, the excitement of early 80s power poppers, The Knack, 20/20, The Pop, The Beat, et. al. is all over this crate of goodies.

Highlighted by candy-coated melodies, sticky sweet harmonies and a general bubblegummy vibe, lead-off dittie "Broken Typewriter" is a harbinger of the fun to come, while Bloom puts her cute, 60s girly pop voice (think Marcy Blaine and "Bobby's Girl") to good effect on "So Many Days."

Of course, too much sugar is never a good thing, and some songs like "Spacesuit" and "Cool Breeze" zip by unnoticed. And at less than half an hour, it's not a very good value for the money. But, if you need to spend a light and airy half hour lazin' away on the hammock, enjoying the summer breezes in the backyard, you could do worse that Oranges and Pineapples. [NOTE:] The more budget conscious listeners may elect to await a possible pairing of this with the band's equally short self-titled debut for an hour's worth of infectious pop confections.

Amazombies - Bitches & Stitches (Go-Kart)
www.gokartrecords.com

Cool, chick-led punk rockers return with a vengeance on their debut long player from the same label that brought us the magnificent Manda & The Marbles earlier this year. This Seattle trio (two gals and a token guy on drums) play power punk in The Boys/Buzzcocks tradition: hummable, anthemic choruses and strong, melodic, guitar-driven tunes that'll have you pogoing and slam dancing like the days of yore.

There's nothing earth-shatteringly new here, but both a consistent high quality and three speeds (fast, faster, fastest) are maintained throughout, although an unintelligible, 100mph cover of "Riot in Cell Block #9" seems superfluous and suggests the band should stick to their high octane, spirited originals.

Highly recommended to fans of the Scandinavian female punk scene (Mensen, Sahara Hotnights), foul-mouthed Canuck punkettes, Kittie and the notorious lesbo rockers, Fabulous Disasters (also on Go-Kart).

The Long Winters - When I Pretend To Fall (Barsuk)
www.barsuk.com

The first problem with Seattle's Long Winters is that frontman John Roderick can't sing. In fact, he doesn't even try on most of these tracks, electing to speak his lyrics in a monotonic pitch. As a result, "Blue Diamond" and "Prom Night at Hater High" sound more like conversations than songs. Roderick attempts to introduce a second note into his vocal repertoire with little effect on "Scared Straight," whose musical backing deftly blends Steely Dan and Neutral Milk Hotel. In fact, NMH's notorious non-singer, Jeff Mangum is a excellent point of reference. 

Elsewhere, "Shapes" is XTC filtered through Guided by Voices and is at least written in a key that Roderick can reach without popping a blood vessel. The catchy "Cinnamon" could be a hit single if they could only find someone to sing it properly, and the dull, meandering "Bride and Bridle" isn't helped by combining a hoarse Steve Forbert with a sore-throated Rod Stewart delivery. The rest of the album is just as nondescript, particularly the pretentious prog suite, "Blanket Hog."

Roderick may have popular friends in the Seattle music scene (including REM/Minus 5-ers Peter Buck and Scott McCaughey, several Posies, Young Fresh Fellows, et. al.), but he doesn't give them anything to play and hasn't written or arranged any interesting songs for them to perform. Coupled with his annoying, incessant, monotonous whine, When I Pretend To Fall  is a difficult listening experience that is not worth the effort. For non-discriminating fans of experimental pop nutters Neutral Milk Hotel, Olivia Tremor Control, GBV, and the more avant members of the Elephant Six collective only.

Danny McDonald - Summer City (Zip)
www.ziprecords.com

Australian power pop legend, Danny McDonald (P76, Jericho, Oscarlima, Stone Age Hearts) has one of those high-pitched girlie voices you either love or hate, but it's perfectly suited to the salty-breezed pop presentations on his debut solo album, Summer City. Imagine Todd Rundgren fronting any number of West Coast power pop bands (The Knack, The Beat, 20/20, etc.) and you've got the idea. Like Tommy Keene and Roy Sundholm before him, McDonald's affable demeanor and light-hearted delivery lift these sticky-sweet, toe-tapping tunes a couple of notches above the mundane flotsam and jetsam littering cutout bins the world over.

The gentle, acoustic "Let's Get Drunk To You and Me" is a perfect happy hour tune. From the magnificent booklet art design of sandy beaches, bluer-than-blue skies, and summer-rental shacks  (McDonald says, "the graphic artist employed images which I felt summed up the imagery I was trying to capture..., 1970s Australian surf culture and the 'down to earth,' simple nature of the record"), to the rocking, spirit-lifting, kick-off-your-sandals-and-stick-your-toes-in-the-ocean tunes with titles like "Soaking Up The Sunshine," "At The Seaside," "Mermaid Beach" (a bitchin' surf instro), and "In The Comfort of A Summer's Night," Summer City may be the most evocative album about the summer since Clapton's 461 Ocean Boulevard.

The soundtrack of the Summer of 2003 has arrived.

Mushroom - Mad Dogs and San Franciscans (Black Beauty)
www.buyrunt.com

Gary Floyd's opening sermon/cover of Joe Cocker's "Learning To Live Together" (actually, "Space Captain," as we learn on the fin al track) comes across like a Baptist minister leading his congregation through a rousing chorus of "Oh, yeah's" and "Hallelujah's" and sets the tone for Mushroom's fourth album and first to feature vocals. (The title, of course, is a thinly veiled pun on Cocker's backing band/entourage, Mad Dogs and Englishmen.)

Once again, head 'shroom Patrick O'Hearn leads the revolving-door membership through a collection of avant skronk, free jazz, post rock noodlings a la Tortoise augmented by some jaw-droppingly weird effects on titles such as "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised, but It Will Be Auctioned on Ebay" and "Even The Beatles Had Beards" (not coincidentally, the only originals on this album of covers). Curtis Mayfield's "Pusherman" is as musically soulful as the original, despite Floyd's annoying, helium-voiced lisp. Leon Russell's "Delta Lady" (also covered by Cocker, whose definitive version never leaves the mind's ear while listening to Floyd's competent but ultimately unnecessary interpretation). "Keep on Running" verges dangerously close to Otis at Monterey (a good thing), but eventually reminds too much of Roland Gift and his Fine Young Cannibals.

Next, a rudimentary run through Randy California and Spirit's "I Got A Line On You" further encapsulates my problem with the release. The unfortunate choice of covers results in game attempts at erasing earlier, definitive versions from our mind that are doomed to failure from the get-go. Whether it be the author's own recording (as in the case of Mayfield and Spirit) or earlier interpretations that have passed into the realm of legend (Cocker's "Delta Lady" and Steppenwolf's version of Hoyt Axton's "The Pusher"), there really is no reason for these new recordings to exist. (And two songs about "pushers" is, pardon the pun, pushing it. Pick one, if you must tackle any. I'd give a slight nod to Mayfield's tune.) As a result, nearly a third of the album comes across like vanity recordings of some of the band members' favorite songs. Laudable, perhaps, in a live setting, but not for an official studio recording. Maybe this was intended as a teaser for record labels considering upcoming tribute albums to any of these artists to hear what the 'shrooms can do to the material. But even there, tribute albums only work if you reinterpret the lesser-known tracks, not some of the artists' signature songs!

Only their aforementioned originals (and the more obscure covers, such as Pete Townshend's "Water") add anything distinctive to their canon. On previous releases, Mushroom (always known for their famous collaborations - former partners have included members of Soft Machine, Gong, Faust, and Tortoise) have managed to incorporate the style of their partners while maintaining their own unique identity. However commendable the effort to add a little soul to their sound by inviting Floyd to sing with them, the experiment fails on two accounts: the unfortunate selection of covers and the fact that Floyd is not a very emotional singer, thus turning Mushroom into another run of the mill, post rock, jazz band. The resulting album is surprisingly antiseptic and unemotional. Hopefully, only a momentary downturn in an otherwise exciting career.

Martin L. Gore - Counterfeit² (Mute)
www.mute.com

Gore has been guiding Depeche Mode to world domination and healthy bank accounts ever since their genius leader, Vince Clarke left to form Yaz (and then Erasure) after their marvelous debut over 20 years ago. You're forgiven, then, if you're expecting his debut solo album to be a bunch of stale DM leftovers that Dave Gahan refused to sing. Luckily, the only remnants of the Mode are the atmospheric, downbeat melancholia of many of the songs here, all covers.

Beginning your first solo effort with "In My Time of Dying" is not exactly an enticing welcome, and turning David Essex's "Stardust" into a morose dirge is another challenging decision. "I Cast A Lonely Shadow" has a funky, techno-industrial backbeat and Gore adopts a suave, Bryan Ferry delivery method to add to its enjoyment.

A somber interpretation of Julee Cruise's "In My Other World" is an unusual, yet surprisingly effective choice to add a more ethereal tone to the album. Another highlight (of many) is Eno and Cluster's "By This River," which Gore turns into a haunting, electronic lullaby. And speaking of lullabies, Kurt Weill's "Lost In The Stars" is a cute, nursery rhyme for little ones, but is better suited to a Marianne Faithfull or Tom Waits - someone with a weather beaten, besotted vocal to begin with. Gore's monotonic delivery is more grating, verging on parody, and doesn't do the song justice. Also worth ignoring are his versions of Nick Cave's "Loverman" and Bowie's "Tiny Girls," both horrible songs to begin with. And Lennon's "Oh My Love" totally betrays his ties to DM and sounds like it would have been better suited to one of their B-sides.

The metallic k.o. of "Das Lied Vom Einsamen Madchen" (perhaps best known from Nico's Garbo-esque interpretation) out-Reznors Nine Inch Nails and is highly recommended to listeners who might wonder what Kraftwerk would sound like if they decided to tackle the industrial wasteland.

Overall, a promising debut from an artist who is obviously keeping his own compositions for future DM releases, but I'd like to hear some of them in a solo setting next time out.

Starflyer 59 - Old (Tooth and Nail)
www.toothandnail.com

Obviously, I've been away too long, as this is the first of Jason Martin's nearly dozen releases I've heard - and it's a good 'un! More psych pop in the style of Psychedelic Furs, Outrageous Cherry and Asteroid #4 highlights the latest from the ugliest band on the planet, who just happen to make some of its loveliest sounds. The wall-to-wall production of expansive, hook-laden melodies on tracks like "Passengers," the hard rocking "Major Awards" and the pulsating, driving beat of "The Lights On" combine Dandy Warhols' pop sensibilities with Guy Chadwick's magnificent ear for memorable melodies on his House of Love releases. In fact, if you think of Starflyer 59 as an American version of House of Love (particularly their glorious self-titled albums), you'd be in the right church AND the right pew, although I must admit I heard the guitar riff from an old Luna song ("Slash," I believe) running through "New Wife, New Life."

The stale taste from the few disappointing tracks at the end (the title track and the closer, "First Heart Attack" are snoozers that you'll never play again) are quickly overshadowed by the melodic guitar solo that snakes through "Unbelievers," which rivals Neil Young, Jeff Kelly and Mark Kozelek in its melodic simplicity.

Overall, the unforgettable, eminently hummable tunes, full stereophonic, Spectorish production and Martin's sleepy, breathy, emotional vocals combine for one of the year's finest releases.

Britta Phillips & Dean Wareham - L'Avventura (Jet Set)
www.jetsetrecords.com

Wareham is not the easiest fella to get along with (just ask his former Galaxie 500 bandmates, Damon & Naomi), so I can only hope this brief holiday from his current band, Luna (hence, I presume, the title) is a minor fan pleaser while he writes some new tunes (over half of this duet with his Luna bassist are cover songs, including not one, but TWO(!) Madonna tracks, a Buffy Sainte Marie classic and a little known Doors' track).

However, it's the old Clay Allison/Opal track from Dave Roback and Kendra Smith ("Hear the Wind Blow") that's most telling, as it quickly becomes clear that this is an obvious attempt to fill the void created by the dissolution of Roback's follow-up Mazzy Star project. Covering one of his tunes opens the door for such a conclusion, an attempt made all the more obvious as soon as Phillips opens her mouth on her two tunes ("Out Walking" and "Your Baby") and unabashedly mimics Hope Sandoval to the point of distraction. All hope (no pun intended) of being taken seriously immediately flies out the window.

Still, aside from a superfluous reading (literally...Wareham recites rather than sings the lyrics) of Buffy's marvelous "Moonshot" and Phillips' unintelligibly mumbled whispering on "Knives From Bavaria," the album is full of pleasant, MOR tunes that feature Wareham's signature New Zealand drawl and is basically a Luna album in all but name. "Ginger Snaps" continues the long line of killer tunes that always grace Luna records and the stolid, almost reverential interpretation of The Doors' "Indian Summer" is a pleasant diversion on an album that neither excites nor annoys the listener.

However, one can only look askance at the dubious nature of the project, especially in light of the obvious "Mazzy Star lite" accusations sure to be visited upon it. Now I miss Roback and Sandoval as much as the next listener: Hope's Warm Intentions project is godawful and Roback seems to have fallen off the face of the earth (perhaps he and Manic Street Preacher guitarist Richey James are enjoying a cold one over a few good laughs somewhere), but this weak attempt to fill that void is disappointing. Phillips is nowhere near the vixen-voiced, sultry siren that Sandoval is, and Wareham thankfully doesn't even attempt to outdo Roback, surely one of America's finest guitarists. For Luna completists and undiscriminating Mazzy Star fanatics only.

And as for copping the title from a classic Michaelangelo Antonioni film, let's hope the other "films" in the trilogy, La Notte and L'Eclisse are not in the pipeline. Just go make nice with the rest of the band and get started on that next Luna release.

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