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PrintNICO MUHLY 'MOTHERTONGUE' (BEDROOM COMMUNITY/BRASSLAND)
Ours is an era in which the formal 19th-century musical concept of the "composer" is nearly dead. Of those notators who still content themselves with poring over scores to be played by large ensembles or orchestras, many inhabit the programmatic world of film soundtracks (an art unto itself, to be sure) while most others toil away in the academic realm, their pieces never to be heard other than through self-congratulatory exchanges with their peers.
Certainly no composer today has attained the recognition and ubiquity of works as those of a Bach, Beethoven or Wagner. However, one of the last New Music movements to impact pop culture was the more accessible work of the minimalists. And there is anchored the saga of Nico Muhly, a 20-something prodigy and Juilliard grad who may be one of the few surprises left to emerge from the classical milieu.
As an indispensable assistant to Philip Glass -- for whom he toiled as editor, keyboardist and conductor since his sophomore year at Columbia -- Muhly learned the necessary tedium of the composing business, feeding Glass' transcriptions into a computer program. But interestingly, even as a professed "nonbeliever," as much of Muhly's influences came from his days as a church choirboy as they did from the insistent pulse of Steve Reich and John Adams (who calls Muhly's music "eclectic and nondenominational," in the sense that it doesn't subscribe to any orthodoxies).
Another of Muhly's great loves is Iceland, a country in which he's spent a lot of time and from which he's recruited many musicians and producers, including Valgeir Sigurdsson, who co-produced "Mothertongue," Muhly's second album. So it makes sense that below the busy, neurotic chatter of the Glass-ish Morse Code vocalizations on the CD's title track, there's a tranquil sense of glistening, almost electronic lushness, somewhat like one might find on a record by Icelandic post-rock bands Sigur Ros and Mum (in fact, Muhly did work on Bjork's "Medulla"), albeit with intentional jarrings and thunder sounds to keep the process disquieting.
The other two pieces on the disc reach further into the past for inspiration. "Wonders" puts to music various Renaissance-era texts, including a sonnet about sea monsters by King James I and a complaint against a drunken cathedral organist, all sung by Icelandic vocalist Helgi Hrafn Jonsson. The unsettling effect of Elizabethan chanson and dissonant harpsichord lumbering against ominous dark brass on "The Devil Appear'd in the Shape of Man" has the effect of reliving horror film scenarios more than it does powdered wigs and frilly waistcoats.
And "The Only Tune," a setting of "The Two Sisters," a traditional folk tale with a chillingly scary theme, does much the same, although in the Gavin Bryars style of extracting stark truths from the detritus of Americana. Muhly's string arrangements and plinky computer programming give the work its necessary gravitas, but Vermont singer/banjoist Sam Amidon really brings this tune to evocative life, reminiscent of the gothic alt-country twang of Will Oldham or even Ralph Stanley's classic "O Death," before shifting into a mellow Iron and Wine folk vibe to end the piece. Which is a fine thing, proving that there's a bit of youthful, mischievous wickedness for the Pitchfork crowd (the guy lives in the 21st century, not the 19th, thus he blogs interminably, hangs out with Antony & The Johnsons, and listens to Hot Chip and Ratatat on his iPod) mingled in with the composer's amazingly mature pursuit of the beauty locked in his head.
-- Manny Theiner for the Post-Gazette
CHRIS STANDRING 'LOVE AND PARAGRAPHS' (ULTIMATE VIBE)
It's probably appropriate that the British-born guitarist who has toured with trumpeter Rick Braun and had a hit in 1999 with "Cool Shades" does a take on the "acid jazz" scene that dominated the UK in the 1990s. Produced and arranged with keyboardist Rodney Lee, Chris Standring's former bandmate in SolarSystem, the album, which gets its name from an e-mail salutation he once used with a fan who complained about his brevity, is -- generally -- a winner.
Most of the tunes employ a serious funk groove that keep the feet going throughout. "Love & Paragraphs," with an eighth-note ostinato played on acoustic guitar, recalls some Beatles material, and Standring uses a talk box (think Peter Frampton) on the best tune, "Have Your Cake and Eat It." Other solid tracks include the sunny "C.S. in the Sunshine" -- perhaps a nod to Count Basic's "M.L. in the Sunshine" but doesn't sound much like it -- and "As Luck Would Have It."
However, too much of the material employs the same vibe and tempo; the only deviations are the bossa nova "That's What I Thought You Said" and the only ballad, the too heavy and ponderous "Reflection." I also would like to have heard the other musicians who performed on the album get a chance to show off a bit. Everette Harp's tenor saxophone on "Qwertyuiop" and Fender Rhodes' piano from Jeff Lorber on "Qu'est-ce Que Tu Fais?" (French for "What Are You Doing?") represent the only solos on the CD other than Standring.
-- Rick Nowlin, Post-Gazette staff writer
AMOS LEE 'LAST DAYS AT THE LODGE' (BLUE NOTE)
For years now, Amos Lee has been climbing the ranks of the singer-songwriter elite, scoring tours with Bob Dylan and Norah Jones. He was part of Paul Simon's recent residency at the Brooklyn Academy of Music, and the sultry folk sound he maintains on his third Blue Note album should appeal to fans of Simon. There's more jazz and soul in Lee's songs, his well-documented voice remaining smoothly expressive. Bill Withers is an easy comparison, but the airy, romantic "Won't Let Me Go" feels like a nod to Marvin Gaye circa "Let's Get It On," while the socially conscious "Jails and Bombs" does the same with "What's Going On." If Lee wears some influences on his sleeve, his records always go down easy.
--Doug Wallen, McClatchy-Tribune
G. LOVE & SPECIAL SAUCE 'SUPERHERO BROTHER' (BRUSHFIRE)
In his quest to find his place within hip-hop, Garrett Dutton III -- G. Love -- has alternated between solo crooning as an MC and playing with Special Sauce, the pals he started his career in music with.
G. uses his signature mix of rapier raps and drawling vocals to tell tales of babies having babies and other nice vibrations.
But while the solo efforts are gently countrified affairs, the Sauce (drummer Jeffrey Clemens, bassist Jimi Prescott) bring out the sass in Dutton. With its stumbling rhythms and honky-tonk piano, "Communication" could be a lost Stones track circa "Exile on Main St." The same goes for the playful "City Livin'," with its jabbering brass and needling guitars.
The Special Sauce cooks best as a combination of hastened hip-hop and dirty funk. So, it makes a muddy mess of "Wiggle Worm" and a soulful stew of "Peace, Love and Happiness," complete with chunks of conga in the tasty mix.
Special Sauce may have been together for 15-plus years and Dutton may be a 36-year-old dad, but their groove is as young as when they started.
--A.D. Amorosi, McClatchy-Tribune
