There’s a gorgeous easiness to Two Moons, the latest album by singer/songwriter Tom Freund. It’s a sunny, low-key, nostalgic record that was funded by a PledgeMusic campaign. It’s the kind of record that you put on after a dreadful day, one that uplifts and feels like a perfect secret, full of fine musicianship and sagacious lyrics.
You know those TV shows that have artful music direction, like early Supernatural or Friday Night Lights or Parenthood (Jason Katims, I salute you!)? The ones that use quietly epic, devastating songs that push Matt Saracen’s story forward or underscore Sam and Dean’s struggle beautifully in a way that mere words can’t do, perhaps with an acoustic flourish? Anders Parker has written that record. There’s A Blue Bird In My Heart is packed with songs that have a quietly epic quality—the kind you feel deep down in your heart and guts.
As a young record buyer, all I needed to know about decadence, I learned from Marc Almond. His records taught me about Jacques Brel, euphemisms for masturbation, the grand alienation of aging out of your passions—you know, the stuff of life.
Now, ages later, it’s delightful to know Marc Almond hasn’t tamed his decadent leanings, and that both his writing and voice have gotten better with time. He was always a fine writer, able to capture a moment or a mood with an artfully placed word and a bit of cleverness. He wasn’t always the greatest of singers, though he did show that with passion and a well-versed torch song, you could overcome any vocal limitations. Don’t dream it, be it, and all that.
It’s got to be tough to be in the same racket as your old man. If you were brought up in his footsteps and following his path, and heaven forbid, if you have the same name as him, then there’s always going to be that comparison, that competition. Then imagine if you were a musician and you made the same kind of music that your Pops made, and that he was one of the greatest jazz/swing musicians of all time. You’d really have to bring your A-game always.
Not everyone can write a song about the News International phone hacking scandal and make it sound jaunty. Glenn Tilbrook, however, can and did.
On his fifth non-Squeeze album Happy Endings, Tilbrook took a different approach—going acoustic. The result is a warm, witty, sometimes slight album (but what does Glenn Tilbrook have to prove at this point? The man can rest on his clever laurels all he wants.) that is always engaging. It’s a lovely sounding album, as well, with lush strings and clever percussion.
Black Crowes’ guitarist and songwriter, Rich Robinson, writes amazing choruses. On his third solo album, The Ceaseless Sight, Robinson sings of love and happiness, as well as the flip side of that, with candor and a seeker’s quest to make sense of it all. While lyrically, the songs are interesting, the choruses are brilliant nuggets of rhythm and melody that are so striking and ear-wormy that I found myself humming them constantly.
Not only does Calla front man Aurelio Valle’s debut solo album have one of the best titles of the year (Acme Power Transmission, named after his landlord’s auto parts store), it is also one of the most interesting, atmospheric records I’ve heard in 2014. It could be the score for the next True Detective season, awash in mystery, dark places, and hushed echoes. While not explicitly about a specific place, it has a great feeling of place and specificity.
On his new album, Paint The Moon Gold, New York City musician Rene Lopez draws upon the rich musical tapestry of his city and pens a love letter—to New York, his family, and his heritage. The charismatic Mr. Lopez almost has an old school jazz singer vibe, though he calls his style of music “Electric Latin Soul,” which is as good of a descriptor as anything. Paint The Moon Gold is a cohesive, high-energy album that is paced cleverly. In fact, the album picks up in pace in the last quarter, leaving the listener on a high, rather than drifting off to sleep, lulled by quiet songs and quiet ideas. It’s a smart trick.
On her second album, All Or Nothin’, Nikki Lane (with the help of producer Dan Auerbach of the Black Keys) lets fly with incredibly hook-filled songs about drinking, smoking pot, one night stands, and crappy ex-boyfriends. Nikki Lane is a hard one to pin down: her music easily thematically fits into the “outlaw country” camp, and her voice is a magical mix of Loretta Lynn and Dusty Springfield, and All Or Nothin’ is crazy with the steel guitar of country, but she’s not exactly country. The most striking tracks on All Or Nothin’ sound like they’re straight off of the Red Bird label, the early ’60s girl group record company founded by Leiber and Stoller.
St. Paul & The Broken Bones’ frontman Paul Janeway (St. Paul himself) was raised Pentecostal and studied to be a preacher. Upon hearing Half The City, one can only say, “Thank God it didn’t pan out.” Paul Janeway has the kind of voice that you’ll read all kinds of hype about, and for once, that hype is true. The man sings like the second coming of Otis Redding and has a killer band to back him up. Hailing from Birmingham, Alabama, St. Paul & The Broken Bones tread the same sort of ground as Alabama Shakes (and Half The City is, in fact, produced by Alabama Shakes’ Ben Tanner): soulful and bluesy, but with the added bonus of an amazing horn section.