In his nearly 15 years with the sturdy, occasionally dazzling BoDeans, Kurt Neumann has generally been identified as “the normal-voiced one” — as just about anybody would be known alongside the nitrous oxide swoops of Sammy Llanas, his idiosyncratic vocal foil.
The BoDeans ain’t gone (merely reloading), but Neumann has made a solo record to work through several rough years marked by general bad luck, including a divorce, the band being dropped by Warner Brothers and, finally, the death of his beloved dog, Shy.
Given such painful indicators, Shy Dog could well have been a central-casting country weeper, but Neumann has eschewed self-pity for a thoughtful, engaging set of folk-rock, rural dance-pop and guitar-driven anthems. He muscles up for all the chores here, including production, recording, writing and playing.
Longtime fans of the BoDeans will surely pick up on the familiar pocket these tunes plunk into, but the absence of Llanas’ distinctive harmonies (plus minimal sonic seasonings culled from hip-hop and techno) cast the singer’s work in an entirely new light.
The man’s got some axes to grind, sure, but they’re addressed with thoughtful delicacy and inventive arrangements. This ain’t no howling breast-beater; Neumann has directed his considerable gray matter toward coming to terms with the shitstorm. Extra points for the left-fielders — the creepy/smooth “Happiness” (a hick Al Green meets Hot Chocolate) and the sly, rock-funk (a la choice INXS) of “And Then This”.
Artists who’ve been inextricably paired up with others often become blurred in the margins, and sometimes extraordinary circumstances are needed to crack the bond. Everybody gets fired, and lots of people get divorced, but losing your dog too? Now, that’s cold…