Lee’s Listening Stack – A New Batch of Reviews for November

Scott Miller
Big Big World
(F.A.Y. Recordings)

Scott Miller has a remarkable gift for exploring everyday emotion and uncovering the troubles and travails of ordinary folks simply trying to deal with the complexities of the modern world. That’s an auspicious statement perhaps, but one need only sample a memorable song like “How Am I Ever Gonna Be Me?” off Miller’s amazing new album, Big Big World to understand its meaning. In it, Miller ponders the roles that he’s forced to play — and in turn, the rest of us as well — and the responsibilities that each entails. Likewise, the troubling “Cold War Veterans” speaks to the malaise of the modern world, a screwed up situation consistently made worse by our misguided politicians. (Can anyone say, “government shutdown?”)  While Miller’s amiable Southern spirit provides much of the natural charm, occasional tracks like “I Gave You The Power” and the title track’s take on bluesier designs, provide the album with rougher, rugged edges that balance out the sweeter, if troubled (and conflicted) sentiments of “I Can’t Go Back To Her Love Anymore” and “Goin’ Home,” the latter of which may be the most sobering tune Miller’s ever written. All in all, this Big Big World marks another triumph in a career that’s clearly, at this point, ready for prime time. (www.thescottmiller.com)

My Darling Clementine
The Reconciliation?
(Continental Record Services)

With only their second album, My Darling Clementine (A.K.A. Lou Dalgleish and Michael Weston King) prove just how adept they are at churning out authentic sounding rockabilly laments boasting just the right amount of tears in their beers. Playing the role of a couple on the verge of break-up, Dalgleish and King ham it up with humor and humanity, sounding for all the world like George and Tammy, thanks to songs that sounds like country classics even on first hearing. “Unhappy Ever After” (with special guest Kinky Friedman) offers some hilarious dialogue that distill the essence of anger and resentment, and from that point on, the narrative continues unabated. “No Heart in This Heartache,” “I Can’t Live With You (When You Can’t Live With Yourself),” “Leave the Good Book on the Shelf,” “No Matter What Tammy Said (I Won’t Stand By Him),” and “Let’s Be Unhappy” all attest to the anguish of broken love, cheating spouses and indignant demands. Hokey to a degree and clearly played for laughs, the cornball crooning still provides plenty of readymade hooks and compelling choruses. Breaking up may be hard to do, but The Reconciliation? is a hoot and a half. (www.mydarlingclementinemusic.co.uk)

Elsinore
Push/Pull
(Parasol)

Like other bands sprung from the heartland, and Illinois specifically — we’re talking Cheap Trick, the Shoes and a host of other Chicago-based bands — Elsinore seem to come about their pop pedigree naturally. After abandoning their rootsy motif early on, they’ve arrived at a melodic formula that seems to have more in common with their British forebears than the sturdy populist approach purveyed before. However, their challenge seemed to be simply surviving the usual rigors of the rookie band experience — the toil taken by constant touring, steady shifts in personnel, and having to leave young families back home. Nevertheless, this, the band’s third album, aptly titled Push/Pull, uses that tension to their advantage, displaying a wide array of dynamic twists and turns, as well as a sound that beckons immediate interest. Lead track “The Art of Pulling” sets the standard, a glossy, instantly appealing intro that establishes Elsinore’s gift for shimmering melodies and oversized hooks. And while some of the successive titles may seem a bit ambiguous — “Life Inside an Elephant,” “The Thermostat, The Telephone,” “Ultraviolence” etc. — their artsier instincts don’t detract from that undeniable appeal. (www.parasol.com)

Farewell Milwaukee
Can’t Please You, Can’t Please Me
(Five Headed Entertainment)

Despite its somewhat turbulent title, Farewell Milwaukee’s Can’t Please You, Can’t Please Me is a generally assertive effort, marked by songs that approach anthemic status. “Let Me Sleep Tonight” and the title track offer a well nuanced blend of power pop flourishes and Americana authenticity, tempered by a decidedly earnest attitude that leaves no room for false notes or phony sentiment. It is, in a word, a compelling set of songs, one that invites further – and frequent — returns, even while making a connection the first time around. Given a track record that now finds them three for three in terms of easy and immediate accessibility, it’s possible that someday they’ll borrow the popular beer slogan and use it for their own purposes. Call them “the band that made Milwaukee famous simply because they sound so good”  (www.farewellmilwaukee.com)

Lynn Miles
Downpour
(self-released)

Wake up world! The fact that Lynn Miles’ is still self-releasing her music without coming to the attention of some savvy major label is nothing less than a crying shame, and an inexplicable one at that. It only takes a perfunctory listen to the first two entries on her new album — the songs “More” and “Lesson in Everything” — to make the case that Miles is at the top of her game, and beyond that, one of the absolute best singer/songwriters operating in Americana realms these days. The fact that she makes her home in Canada as opposed to Nashville may have dampened her prospects, but in truth that shouldn’t matter; Miles is as eloquent and engaging as any of the names that hail from Music City. And while too much of the planet may be unawares, songs like “My Road,” “Broken Hearted” and “Can’t Stop My Heart From Breaking” sound like melodies that have been around forever, as timeless as the most heartfelt hymns. Kudos too to collaborator Ian Lefeuvre, who produced, shared the instrumental duties and made for the perfect foil. With their echoes of both hope and heartbreak, these tunes consistently touch a nerve and tug at the heartstrings. When Miles sings “This is my life, this is my choice/These are my words, this is my voice/This is my world, this is my road,” no lyric ever rang truer. (www.lynnmilesmuisc.com)

Camille Bloom
Big Dreams
(self-released)

Where some artists rely on what sometimes seems like a cast of thousands to get their emotions across, Camille Bloom opts only for voice and acoustic guitar to spin her tales of hope and discovery. Imagine Alanis Morissette having to express her anguish and recriminations without the help of her backing musicians and you get some idea of how Bloom mines her musical twists and turns. Unlike Morissette however, she does more than spit venom; while opening track “This System Is Broken” displays some prerequisite recriminations, she immediately switches gears with the next track, “Big Dreams,” and falls into innocent little girl mode. To be sure, the majority of these six tracks do bear their share of weighty concerns, but given the stripped down motif, the tunes come across as more plaintive and purposeful than they might have otherwise. The last entry, “To the End,” seems a fine summation, a comforting offering that mitigates any misunderstanding. (www.camillebloom.com)

Logan Brill
Walking Wires
(Carnival Recording Company)

Logan Brill has an incredible voice, and while her music is also exceptional — check out the track “Rewind” from this daring debut Walking Wires — it’s her undeniably powerful and impassioned vocals that bring the sentiments home. While the occasional comparison comes to mind – Bonnie Raitt, Audrey Auld and others enter the fray depending on the material — that in no way diminishes Brill’s ability to turn these tunes into powerful, assertive anthems that grab attention straight from the get-go. In fact, the opening entry, “No Such Thing As Ghosts” does such a superb job of seizing the listener, it’s almost amazing that she herself can follow her own introduction. Nevertheless, she succeeds admirably, and whether it’s affecting ballads like “Write It Off Your Heart” and “Scars,” or testy rockers along the lines of “Ne’er Do Well” and “Month of Bad Habits,” Brill shows she’s adept at seizing on the emotions inherent in each and making them her own.  A solid statement that resonates assuredly, Walking Wires shows Logan Brill on remarkably sure footing. (www.loganbrill.com)

The Black Watch
The End of When
(Pop Culture Press Records)

For as long as one can remember, California’s The Black Watch have been churning out their own take on ‘60s psychedelic rock,part of a mesmerizing journey that happily shows no signs of slowing down. Led by the band’s continuing constant, John Andrew Fredrick — an academic by day, a power pop enthusiast and painter by night — the band demonstrates a proficiency that’s duly impressive, a steady stream of albums that are never less than dazzling and daring. Their latest opus, The End of When, is no exception, and if the lengthy endorsement from The Clean’s David Kilgour printed on the inner sleeve isn’t enough to convince, then the bonus disc reprising a “greatest hits” of sorts ought todo the trick. Indeed, The End of When maintains the band’s standard very well, a potpourri of immediate anthems all imbued with soaring harmonies, sweeping melodies and the occasional odd effects. “I Don’t Feel the Same” and “Meg” propel the album right from the start, a rush of adrenalin that recalls early Pink Floyd in all their raging glory, and from then on, every track maintains a similar shimmering glow. And when Fredrick and company settle into a soft respite via the harmony-laced “Of Lovely Surprises,” it’s oh so obvious they’re more than capable of delivering on all the song’s title promises. Another wonderful collection well worth celebrating, The End of When proves yet again that The Black Watch is, like the best timepiece, an entity that can be counted on for brilliance and consistency. (tbwatch@aol.com)

Drew Kennedy
Wide Listener
(Atlas Aurora)

Drew Kennedy deserves widespread acclaim, and evidence of that becomes quickly clear on Wide Listener, a set of songs fulfils all the promise implied by his earlier LPs. There’s a sense of remorse and regret instilled in these songs, a pervading sadness that makes the material all the more compelling. Even the uptempo tracks – “Age and Color” and “Love on the Highway” being among the most emphatic – demonstrate a resolve and determination that puts his concerns front and center. Kennedy is that kind of artist, a singer/songwriter whose songs reflect the struggles and concerns that burden nearly everyone’s existence and create constant hurdles when it comes to achieving happiness and satisfaction. While that may seem to brand the music with a general malaise, it’s hardly cause for despair. There’s tremendous optimism implied here, and on a song like “Gainesville,” that quiet dignity leaves a powerful impression. Likewise, the rich arrangements and Kennedy’s  knack for nuance enhances the music’s impact, and creates the sense that an imposing newcomer is about to burst on the scene. Indeed, with Wide Listener, and with every one of Kennedy’s efforts so far, hearing is believing. (www.drewkennedymusic.com)

Reckless Kelly
Long Night Moon
(No Big Deal Records)

Reckless Kelly can always be counted on for consistency. While they may have opted to sever ties with their longtime label Sugar Hill, their subsequent decision to release albums on their own  has shown no drop off when it comes to quality or presentation. Indeed, their ability to balance poignancy with a driving dynamic has never been more evident than with the superb Long Night Moon, which finds tender ballads like the title track and “Irish Goodbye” holding their own against stirring anthemic rockers such as “Real Cool Hand” and “Every Step of the Way.”  Yet, true to their purpose, the Kellys don’t get sucked up in extremes. Never too maudlin or overly brusque, the songs maintain their basic melodic sensibilities, compelling and accessible regardless of intent. It’s no surprise then that a simple admonishment like “Be My Friend (In Real Life)” is as straight forward as its title’s sentiments suggests. That casts Long Night Moon in the best light, an album befitting a band that’s at the top of their game and has been for much of their entire career. A superb set and one well worth acquiring, this Long Night Moon casts Reckless Kelly in a radiant glow. (www.recklesskelly.com)

Rick Shea
Sweet Bernadine
(Tres Pescadores)

Perhaps best known as a producer and hired gun, Rick Shea can also claim a superb series of albums recorded under his own auspices. His latest, Sweet Bernadine, is clearly no exception. Using the old west and south of the border imagery as his muse, he crafts a series of narratives so vibrant and expressive, the experience could be likened to reading a Zane Grey novel in which the rugged settings seem to come alive. Shea’s voice and overall style frequently brings to mind Willie Nelson, Tom Russell and the late John Stewart, both in its ragged expression and in the way he wears his tattered sentiments so close to his sleeve. Songs like “Mexicali Train,” with its references to Kerouac and his fellow travelers, and “Mariachi Hotel” capture the evocative romanticism of another time and place, but it’s the hard luck tale embodied by “John Shea From Kenmare” — clearly a reference to a forebear from the old country — that tugs at the heartstrings and brings the emotions home. Two classic covers — Hank Williams’ “Honky Tonk Blues” and Roy Acuff’s “Streamline Cannonball” bring some familiarity to the proceedings, but Shea’s reads are so distinctive and original, they actually sound like his own material. Consider Sweet Bernadine a must, not only for anyone seeking a sublime set of songs, but for those whose notion of Americana has to ring of the real thing. (www.trespescadores.com)

The Pralines
A Beautiful View
(Tiger Dog Music)

Combining a perquisite amount of jangle, Southern California shimmer and ‘60s sunshine pop (think Love meets the Byrds), The Pralines’ long-awaited sophomore disc (their first, Song of the Day Café was released all the way back in 2004) makes a significant statement that ought to create continuing demand for more. Lead singer Pamela Richardson seizes most of the star power here – no surprise, considering that she previously released an album and EP on her own – but solid support from other members of the extended ensemble ensure that the album makes an emphatic impression. A version of Gene Clark’s classic “Silver Raven,” the only non-original song of the set, shows where their sentiments lie, but tracks like “Raphael,” “Escape Artist” and “Better Now” offer ample evidence that the Pralines more than hold their own when it comes to both writing and execution. With accordions, bouzouki and keyboards adding rich textures to the soft rock template, A Beautiful View becomes as lovely and expansive as its winsome title implies. (www.reverbnation.com/pralines)

Corin Ashley
New Lion Terraces
(Murray Hill Records)

Boston’s Corin Ashley’s first outing was a more stripped down, straight forward affair, but with this outstanding follow-up, he adds a glossy sheen that enhances his pop possibilities. His vibrant, effusive vocal brings to mind both Eric Carmen and Emitt Rhodes, and allows him toeasily veer from the rich delivery of songs like “Badfinger Bridge” and “Geez Louise” to the edgier inclinations of “Malady” and the graceful old time sway of “God Shaped Hole,” all without missing a beat. Ashley’s natural charm is purveyed throughout, and aside from incorporating a variety of unusual instruments — glockenspiel, bowed saw, wurli and… tea towels? — he also manages to recruit some impressive names to lend their talents to the proceedings, the Posies’ Ken Stringfellow, Richard Davies and former Fairport Convention drummer Dave Mattacks, among them. (Ironically, the song “On The Ledge” quotes from Fairport’s grand concert closer “Meet Me On the Ledge.”) The result is a stirling collection of wide-eyed observations and pensive rumination, all of which bask in pure pop imagery and imagination. Ashley offers some sweet sounds indeed. (www.corinashley.com)

Songdog
Last Orders at Harry’s Bar
(Junkyard Songs)

Vocals tempered by anguish, harps and violins provide both sweet accompaniment and the primary colors in the Scottish band’s Songdog’s musical palette, making comparisons to Cat Stevens, Family and Mott the Hoople almost inevitable. Yet, even a cursory listen to Last Orders at Harry’s Bar dissuades any attempt to lean towards those or any other obvious comparisons, especially given the band’s delicate arrangements and steady handed delivery. Emotions quickly rise to the fore on songs such as “A Thousand Roads to Hell,” “The Kid in the Super-8 Film” and “Sex, Drugs & Country Music,” each compounded by a delicate grace that offers immediate access. Songdog are, in a sense, a throwback to the Anglo bands of the late ‘60s and early ‘70s, when the ability to defy the norm and make music defined by innovation and originality seemed to hold sway. After toiling nearly anonymously here in the U.S., Last Orders at Harry’s Bar offers a quick catch-up when it comes to uncovering their charms. Those amenable to softer sentiments rendered with grace and skill ought to amble up to his Bar without hesitation. (www.songdog.co.uk)