Ray LaMontagne [2006] Till The Sun Turns Black

[01] Be Here Now
[02] Empty
[03] Barfly
[04] Three More Days
[05] Can I Stay
[06] You Can Bring Me Flowers
[07] Gone Away From Me
[08] Lesson Learned
[09] Truly, Madly, Deeply
[10] Till The Sun Turns Black
[11] Within You



amg: If it weren't for his singing voice, so full of smoke and ether, one would be hard-pressed to believe that Till the Sun Turns Black was made by the same man who recorded Trouble just two years prior. Ray LaMontagne takes a brave leap from the rootsy singer/songwriter material of his debut album and does a 180. Once more collaborating with producer and multi-instrumentalist Ethan Johns, the singer-songwriter turns in a highly textured, atmospheric, and subdued performance on his sophomore effort. All the grit and earth in LaMontagne's voice on Trouble, and the basic country-folk and R&B (on the title track) has been swept out like ashes in the morning here. This new set is startling. The reliance on skeletal, delicate string arrangements adds much to the interior nature of these songs. LaMontagne has used the projection in his lyrics and his voice and turned them inside out. He's slower, more subtle, more restrained everywhere here. His lines are economical, full of space and tension, as if they were being performed alone in a room in the middle of the night. Johns' use of strings and keyboards paints LaMontagne's voice and underscores his delivery with a quiet drama that reveals itself inside the listener.

Check LaMontagne's opener, "Be Here Now," with the guitar finding its way toward the singer as a quartet of violins, two cellos, and a bowed bass emerge to support his voice in the void of silence Johns creates around it. Johns' piano fills in odd spaces. They don't seem to add up, but they do when LaMontagne's vocal whispers its way forward into that small swelling shadow. On the bluesy "You Can Bring Me Flowers," a horn section is used to highlight and extol LaMontagne's tough lyrics; but there is more Tim Buckley and Tom Rush here than Otis Redding or Sam Cooke, but it's all LaMontagne. The jazzy flute and funky dobro don't sound like country, but more like country-blues from an earlier time. By contrast, the whispering acoustic guitars and strings in the title cut are frames to fit a voice inside, and LaMontagne's does; then shatters it when confessed emotion blurs then shatters the edges. These are songs no one else can sing. LaMontagne's sense of phrase and rhyme are idiosyncratic, never overbearing; he allows the listener into his world, slowly, deliberately; his observations and nearly overwhelming emotion are too big to keep to himself — as the strings swell, all he can do is moan, then nearly growl, wordlessly. Till the Sun Turns Black is a giant leap forward. LaMontagne reveals himself to be a sophisticated pop artist who can find in simple forms something utterly engaging and communicative. This record could have been made 20 years ago but in another two decades will still sound fresh.
(amg 8/10)

Roland Orzabal [2000] Tomcats Screaming Outside

[01] Ticket To The World
[02] Low Life
[03] Hypnoculture
[04] Bullets For Brains
[05] For The Love Of Cain
[06] Under Ether
[07] Day By Day By Day By Day By Day
[08] Dandelion
[09] Hey Andy!
[10] Kill Love
[11] Snowdrop
[12] Maybe Our Days Are Numbered



amg: Tears for Fears' Roland Orzabal is a musical actor, an abstract poet, and a music connoisseur. His lush lyrical imagery has provided vivid imagism and an emotion sparked from his own inquisitive nature since fronting one of the '80s' biggest acts. Creative differences and signature arrogance allowed he and bandmate Curt Smith's musical magic to dissolve after 1989's The Seeds of Love, making Orzabal's solo days fronting Tears for Fears to be disenchanting and practically forced. And despite rumor of the duo coming back together to write and perform under the moniker that made them a staple among the charts, Orzabal issued his first proper debut album just after the dawn of the millennium. Tomcats Screaming Outside illustrates Orzabal's bright mind with classic philosophical disposition; however, he's honest and eager, no longer concerned with the past. He refrains from psychologically picking his mind apart; rather, he's plucking from social indifference and its want for quick desire. His focus on sharp electronics and the uncomplicated nature of songs such as "Hypnoculture" and "For the Love of Cain" present Orzabal's newfound comfort. He's still ambitious, yes, but not arrogantly so. "Dandelion" grazes with nasty riffs, leaving Orzabal to twist his large vocals to stretch alongside them. "Ticket to the World" and "Maybe Our Days Are Numbered" ironically capture Orzabal's fixation with a greater love, another hurt, and a life outside of what everyone already knows. Tomcats Screaming Outside aptly defines his burgeoning creative desire as well as his hungry nature to write a song that reaches outside the heart and beyond the mind. The overall composition of this album is tough, a bit young with musical instrumentation, but a decent look at Orzabal's keen talent as both a singer and a songwriter. He's still got it.
(amg 8/10)

Red Hot Chili Peppers [1999] Californication

[01] Around The World
[02] Parallel Universe
[03] Scar Tissue
[04] Otherside
[05] Get On Top
[06] Californication
[07] Easily
[08] Porcelain
[09] Emit Remmus
[10] I Like Dirt
[11] This Velvet Glove
[12] Savior
[13] Purple Stain
[14] Right On Time
[15] Road Trippin'



amg: Many figured that the Red Hot Chili Peppers' days as undisputed alternative kings were numbered after their lackluster 1995 release One Hot Minute, but like the great phoenix rising from the ashes, this legendary and influential outfit returned back to greatness with 1999's Californication. An obvious reason for their rebirth is the reappearance of guitarist John Frusciante (replacing Dave Navarro), who left the Peppers in 1992 and disappeared into a haze of hard drugs before cleaning up and returning to the fold in 1998. Frusciante was a main reason for such past band classics as 1989's Mother's Milk and 1991's Blood Sugar Sex Magik, and proves once and for all to be the quintessential RHCP guitarist. Anthony Kiedis' vocals have improved dramatically as well, while the rhythm section of bassist Flea and drummer Chad Smith remains one of rock's best. The quartet's trademark punk-funk can be sampled on such tracks as "Around the World," "I Like Dirt," and "Parallel Universe," but the more pop-oriented material proves to be a pleasant surprise — "Scar Tissue," "Otherside," "Easily," and "Purple Stain" all contain strong melodies and instantly memorable choruses. And like their 1992 introspective hit "Under the Bridge," there are even a few mellow moments — "Porcelain," "Road Trippin'," and the title track. With the instrumentalists' interplay at an all-time telepathic high and Kiedis peaking as a vocalist, Californication is a bona fide Chili Peppers classic.
(amg 8/10)

Rick Wright [1996] Broken China

[01] Breaking Water
[02] Night Of A Thousand Furry Toys
[03] Hidden Fear
[04] Runaway
[05] Unfair Ground
[06] Satellite
[07] Woman Of Custom
[08] Interlude
[09] Black Cloud
[10] Far From The Harbour Wall
[11] Drowning
[12] Reaching For The Rail
[13] Blue Room In Venice
[14] Sweet July
[15] Along The Shoreline
[16] Breakthrough



amg: This rather humdrum effort from Pink Floyd's keyboard player does have touches of his former band's haunting ambience, but the tracks on Broken China lazily skim along on shallow waves of new age-like synthesizer passages and lilting rhythms rather than engulf its concept of a man who is experiencing the repercussions of clinical depression, which is in itself Pink Floyd-like. The album is divided up into four sections, each representing a different stage of the character's mental illness. The idea is interesting enough and, while Wright's vocals are eerily reminiscent of Roger Waters, the concept fails to gain any momentum from one cycle to another. The music is dark...but too dark, and the lyrics are abstract...only they're too abstract. Wright gets too caught up in the complexities of his imagery, so much so that he fails to extend his concept outwardly in the form of music or message. Rather than jut out or take hold, the tracks all converge into each other with little or no rhythmic resurgence or elevation. "Reaching for the Rail" and "Breakthrough" are sung by Sinead O'Connor, one of the album's upsides, while oboe and cello add noticeable weight to the music's somberness in all the right places. Wright's first solo release, entitled Wet Dreams, is a much more entertaining effort, as is Zee-Identity, his 1984 collaboration with Dave Harris.
(amg 8/10)

Robbie Robertson [1987] Robbie Robertson

[01] Fallen Angel
[02] Showdown At Big Sky
[03] Broken Arrow
[04] Sweet Fire Of Love
[05] American Roulette
[06] Somewhere Down The Crazy River
[07] Hell's Half Acre
[08] Sonny Got Caught In The Moonlight
[09] Testimony



amg: Robbie Robertson was once asked why he waited 11 years after the breakup of the Band to release a solo project, and he replied, "I wasn't so sure I had something to say." One can hear a bit of this thinking in Robertson's self-titled solo debut; it's obvious that he didn't care to revisit the country- and blues-flavored roots rock that had been his bread and butter with the Band, and at the same time Robertson seemed determined to make an album that had something important to say, and could stand alongside his legendary earlier work. Looking for a moody and atmospheric sound, Robertson teamed up with producer Daniel Lanois, who had previously worked with U2 and Peter Gabriel, two artists whose work obviously influenced Robertson's musical thinking while he was making the album (they both appear on the album as well). As a result, Robbie Robertson is an album that represents both a clear break from his past, and an ambitious attempt to take his fascination with American culture and music in a new and contemporary direction. It's highly ambitious stuff, and the album's ambitions sometimes prove to be its Achilles' heel. Robertson's collaboration with U2, "Sweet Fire of Love," sounds like a rather unremarkable outtake from The Joshua Tree, with the group's aural bombast subsuming the ostensive leader of the session, while "Fallen Angel," "American Roulette," and "Somewhere Down the Crazy River" find Robertson exploring the same iconography of the Band's best work, but without the same grace or subtle wit. And it doesn't take long to realize why Robbie only took two lead vocals during his tenure with the Band; his dry, reedy voice isn't bad, but it lacks the force and authority to communicate the big themes Robertson wants to bring across. Despite all this, Robbie Robertson does have its share of pearly moments, especially on the bitter "Hell's Half Acre," "Sonny Got Caught in the Moonlight," and "Broken Arrow" (a performance more subtle and effective than Rod Stewart's better-known cover). Robbie Robertson isn't the masterpiece its creator was obviously striving towards, but it's an intelligent and often compelling set from an inarguably important artist, and it comes a good bit closer to capturing what made the Band's work so memorable than the latter-day efforts from Levon Helm and company.
(amg 8/10)

Robert Wyatt [1974] Theatre Royal Drury Lane

[01] Introduction By John Peel
[02] Dedicated To You But You Weren't Listening
[03] Memories
[04] Sea Song
[05] A Last Straw
[06] Little Red Riding Hood Hit The Road
[07] Alife
[08] Alifib
[09] Mind Of A Child
[10] Instant Pussy
[11] Signed Curtain
[12] Calyx
[13] Little Red Robin Hood Hit The Road
[14] I'm A Believer



amg: Recorded on September 8, 1974, this set features Robert Wyatt (post-accident) with a slew of mates, including Ivor Cutler! Introduced by John Peel and recorded by the BBC — only a little over half the concert survives — this is a wild, freewheeling document featuring Wyatt, Cutler, and Julie Tippetts on vocals; Dave Stewart and Tippetts on keyboards; alternate drummers Nick Mason and Laurie Allan; Hugh Hopper on bass; Fred Frith on guitar, violin, and viola; the late Mongezi Feza on trumpet; the late great Gary Windo on reeds; and guitarist Mike Oldfield. It's quite a lineup and an awesomely inspiring performance. Wyatt is in excellent form here, and the bandmembers, who are a bit ragged in places, are nonetheless tight and full of fire. From "Dedicated to You But You Weren't Listening" and "Memories" to "Alfie," "Instant Pussy," "Mind of a Child," and "Little Red Robin Hood Hit the Road," this set is alternately an early tribute recording to Wyatt and a fine get-together of friends from the Canterbury scene. Sonically, the recording is very present, though a bit overloaded in places, but the music more than compensates for this. All Wyatt fans will need this, as it is as close to an essential document of 1970s experimental/prog as one is likely to find.
(amg 8/10)