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Music
Spins CD Reviews
BY SEE STAFFJohn Wesley Harding Confessions of St. Ace (Mammoth)
"Here is the sting/I still want everything," announces Harding right off the bat with Humble Bee, first song on his latest album; damn if he doesn’t sound humble at all. Riding a wave of critical plaudits through the late ’80s into ’90s, Harding shrugs off cult status and continues to parlay acerbic wordplay and irresistibly clever hooks into brilliant songwriting. More Costello than Dylan, and more Nick Lowe than either, Harding casually dissects relationships with barely contained glee, and just as readily turns the knife on himself as his intended target (I’m Wrong About Everything). Most impressive is Harding’s growth as a singer; he’s better able to cut through the facile cleverness that occasionally mars earlier albums.
–Tom Murray
The Gourds Bolsa de Agua (Sugar Hill Records)
On Bolsa de Agua, Austin’s the Gourds manage to traverse the dead centre of alt-country and yet somehow miss its heart. With a pedigree that includes Max Johnson, ex of supergroups Uncle Tupelo and Wilco, a self-described "patch-work" of musical inclinations, and a list of influences including the Bad Livers and Los Lobos, it nearly sounds too good to be true – and it is. They don’t, and can’t, totally disappoint, in part because of their musicianship, and are at their best on a couple of less straightforward songs (Waterbag and Layin’ Around the House). Perhaps its as my aunt says: "A cookbook is worth what you paid if you get two good recipes from it."
–Dr. Sean Sanders
Underworld Everything, Everything (BMG Music)
If you ever doubted the validity of live electronica, here’s the disc that will change your mind. The first major live CD by an electronica group since The Orb’s 1994 release, Everything, Everything is a copacetic compilation of dance tracks recorded throughout the band’s 1998/99 world tour, expertly mixed to build from a soft electronic murmur to the brain-shaking clamour of 30,000 fans dancing like there’s no tomorrow. Electronica virgins will probably recognize Born Slippy, which was on the Trainspotting soundtrack, and, subsequently, every club in the world. It’s even better here.
–Scott Sharplin
Voodoo Glow Skulls Symbolic (Epitaph)
It’s extra-disheartening when a band that has both a cool name and a groovy album cover releases a boring CD. The pseudo-Aztec art on the Voodoo Glow Skulls’ Symbolic promises exotic, dangerous music, but the songs refuse to stand out significantly from one another or at least blend together as a satisfying whole. Repetitive lyrics, delivered in an often hyperventilating and monotone vocal style are set against equally repetitive ska guitar, drums, and horns. The opening track states that they "represent the zenith of the now unpopular skacore genre." Apparently they have no one to blame but themselves
–Dave Alexander
King Cobb Steelie Mayday (Rykodisc)
After climbing up the rickety Canadian pop music ladder for almost 10 years, Toronto area trio King Cobb Steelie may be poised to hit the big time. Certainly, their fourth album, Mayday, reflects a confidence and control over their sound that suggests they’ve been in the zone since Day One. Mostly percussion-based soundscapes, the album has enough breadth to include hip hop and dub rhythms alongside trancey melodies. Five songs – nearly half the album – are instrumental, but there isn’t a moment of boredom or repetition. Like the marble that is their namesake, King Cobb Steelie are ready to roll.
–Scott Sharplin
Fuel Something Like Human (Epic)
Fuel is one of the middle-of-the-road pansy-rock bands that have come to embody popular rock music since Nirvana changed everything. Emasculated sissies, they aren’t even man enough to not be men. They drift half-way between alive and dead, sometimes distorted, sometimes arpeggiated. This sophomore release is the same safe, radio-friendly waste of time, urging making the skin to crawl at the band’s full-on cowardice. Bands like this are often described with words like "brutally visceral," "virile and vibrant," "lusty and loud," "sensuously raw," "spirited aggression," "voluptuous and potent," "passion and precision," and "load of crap."
–Dave Lloyd
Sinclaire Attention Teenage Girls (Sonic Unyon)
I don’t know what you kids hanging out on the Whyte Avenue are listening to these days, but it should be Sinclaire. With their first full-length release, these four young fellas from London (Ontario, not England – the only Brits that were this inspired with guitars were in Swervedriver) have sated my desire to have John Kastner and the Doughboys circa 1987 come to my house and play, in order, every song from Whatever. In fact, Attention Teenage Girls is better produced, thanks to Sir Ian Blurton, and smarter, thanks to repeat listens to Jawbox and Superchunk (I’m guessing here). Varied, melodic, and appropriately angsty – well done.
–Dr. Sean Sanders
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