HOBART SMITH / In Sacred Trust (Smithsonian)
Mountain music virtuoso Smith played a vast array of instruments (banjo,
fiddle, guitar, piano) with blurring intensity and density, jumping from
blazing breakdowns to hypnotic blues guitar to Tin Pan Alley tunes at the
drop of a dime, holding total authority over anything with a string
involved. His career started when his sister contacted Alan Lomax,
declaring "my brother can play anything", and recordings started to pop up
around 1948. In 1963 he was living with a heart embolism that caused him
great pain, yet continued to tour, do radio appearances, teach, and with
fellow banjo player Fleming Brown (the documentarian here) whipped out 9
hours of music onto tape, two discs worth preserved here on this amazing
collection. Smith never needed back-up musicians, his was a universe of
sound so in his command that frankly there may have not been space for
them, and besides, the show was all his even without the instrumentation.
In between the flying notes there was storytelling, clog-dancing, and
more.. Most excellent detailed booklet of course, thanks to Smithsonian,
as well. Hear Smith accompany himself clogging on "Railroad
Bill" (Real Audio from Hatch's show)
CARTER/CHESTNUT/JACKSON/VEAL / Gold Sounds/ (Brown Brothers)
Mike Lupica has coined the term "Judgementnightcore", a rather apt
description of the clashing of two musical genres you normally wouldn't
expect to hear, if you remember that 90's soundtrack where Helmet, House
of Pain, Mudhoney, Sir Mix-A-Lot etc. all got chocolate in each others'
peanut butter so to speak. Well, I don't know what exactly is happening
here, but for some reason there now exists an album of Pavement covers,
done up by proper jazzbos James Carter, Cyrus Chestnut, Ali Jackson and
Reginald Veal. According to the liners, the producer Alan Suback posed the
musical question "what album would we buy that doesn't exist?" then goes
on to detail picking out the fantasy team (Reginald Veal was spotted
backing up Wynton Marsalis for example), but doesn't quite explain why
exactly Pavement covers seemed like a suitable fantasy project other than
"we were avid fans since Crooked Rain Crooked Rain." Perhaps the Dave
Brubeckisms of "5/4=Unity" from that record lit the fuse? Who knows. But
the end product is fascinating, I guess, especially if you're a Pavement
fan, though I don't know if the fans of the artists performing these songs
would run out and buy a copy of Slanted and Enchanted. It's very peculiar
to hear the tres-uptown-SNL-band treatments some of these songs get into
considering some early Pavement originals were buried in lo-fi hiss; "Cut
Your Hair" starts with some free-yet-restrained Carter sax skronk before
settling into a funky organ groove and "doo wah's", "Summer Babe" is a
slick jam around a three-chord Rhodes loop, and Chestnut's solo piano take
on "Trigger Cut" somewhat preserves the ominous intro. If anything, the
record definitely highlights the fact that Pavement themselves were
masters of sublime melody amidst loose, dissonant pop structures that
could allow for this kind of treatment; they started out very much about
sifting through the static so to speak, but gained an elegant maturity
themselves towards their break-up while still walking sideways with
conventional guitar-based rock. The label's site is quite
unusual, offering up images that include Michael Stipe's face, and links
to Clap Your Hands Say Yeah and Derek Jeter, saying "if you still hate
him, that's your problem."
DANNY AND THE NIGHTMARES / Freak Brain (Sympathy for the
Record Industry)
For my money this is as harrowing as Daniel Johnston gets in many ways.
Billed as his full-time "horror rock" combo, the Nightmares' new record
stares Lucifer in the face not unlike Roky Erickson (a self-professed hero
of Johnston's) while trashing up the proceedings like a farfisa-happy
Mummies burning in the pit itself. More songs inspired by women, Satan,
and Jesus Christ (listed as producer of the album), but for the first time
Daniel really sounds at home leading a band sharing his own vision (as
opposed to say, the Paul Leary-produced Atlantic thing where somewhat
proper musicians joined forces with him). It's a giant mess of a
roller-coaster ride, check out "The
Lord Loves You" (Real Audio) in it's belch-enhanced splendor.
|