|
 Less
Talk, More Rock
Cobra
Verde
Easy
Listening (MuscleTone)
Cleveland’s most confident and complex band, Cobra Verde,
roar out of the gate with “Riot City,” one of the toughest
tracks on their fourth, and best, CD. Recorded for MC5 icon
Wayne Kramer’s MuscleTone label, Easy Listening again
highlights John Petkovic’s tortured, live-wire lyrics and
guttural, oddly seductive voice. Since the 2000 release of
the longer, less cohesive CD Nightlife, Frank Vazzano’s
metalloid guitar (augmented by the occasional contribution
from J Mascis, the Dinosaur Jr. icon who tours with the band)
has replaced Doug Gillard’s more pop stylings, Mark Klein
has taken Dave Swanson’s drum position, and Edward James Sotelo
has replaced Don Depew on bass. No trace of predecessor Death
of Samantha remains; this is a new band with new power and
purpose, and an uncanny command of rock’s heritage. There’s
more rock, less glam now. There are power ballads, like “Throw
It Away” (Mascis soars all romantic and boozy here) and the
sultry “The Speed of Dreams.” There are rockers, like “My
Name Is Nobody,” “Terrorist” (“You gotta burn to shine, you
gotta build to burn,” Petkovic howls) and “Whores,” a wildly
successful evocation of the Stones circa “Complicated.” The
subtext is duality and contradiction, the dynamic a distinctive
blend of poetics and power. Easy Listening gives rock
readymades like the Stones, Zep and Bowie a hard, modern and
convincing polish.
—Carlo
Wolff
 The
Iguanas
Plastic Silver 9 Volt Heart
(Yep Roc)
The New Orleans-based Iguanas have a history that dates back
to the late ’80s. Their latest release makes them apt ambassadors
for the Crescent City’s musical breadth. Elements of R&B,
Tex-Mex, Latin, Caribbean, blues, and jazz course through
the songs on Plastic Silver 9 Volt Heart. None of it
has the edgy intensity found in the sometimes dark and pulsing
heart of the individual genres, as diversity often begets
a certain friendly middle ground. Produced with care and sonic
precision, some of the songs on the disc pass by without the
intensity that accompanies a live performance. Others are
further sidelined with lyrics that seem too intent on clever
hooks at the expense of riveting and believable characters.
That said, the Iguanas are five great players, rolling out
undeniable grooves laced with sultry and subtle surprise.
But they can cast only as much magic as the songs will allow:
Fans of Santana will find their horizons expanded, while fans
of Los Lobos may experience the opposite.
—David
Greenberger
Jools
Holland & His Rhythm & Blues Orchestra
More Friends
(Rhino)
This 22-track collection from Jools Holland & His Rhythm
& Blues Orchestra is a blast. Not every track on More
Friends works: Marianne Faithfull’s honky-tonk reworking
of Dylan’s God-fearing “You Got to Serve Somebody” is a mite
wrongheaded, and Huey of the Fun Lovin’ Criminals is out of
his depth on “Fly Me to the Moon.” On the other hand, most
of the cuts rock hard, and Holland, who came to prominence
in the chronically underrated pop band Squeeze, is an indefatigable
bandleader—not to mention an astonishing keyboardist. The
hottest tracks are “Snowflake Boogie,” a roof-raising blues
romp by Edwin (“War”) Starr, who recorded this last October
(and died in early April); Bryan Ferry’s smoky original “The
Only Face”; “Don’t You Kiss My Cheek,” a Tom Jones number
so salacious and funky you wonder why the ageless Welsh heartthrob
hasn’t recorded a soul album; and Beverley Knight’s stirring
take on “Change Is Gonna Come,” a Sam Cooke classic. This
expertly played, imaginatively conceived collection shows
why Holland and his big band are so popular in Europe. Every
guest artist seems to enjoy working with Holland and his boys,
from Dionne Warwick to Ray Davies to Robert Plant and Jeff
Beck. These cuts are neither cameos nor rehab projects, however;
they’re full-bodied, swinging and fun. Count on a gang of
Brits to put the freshness back in funk.
—Carlo
Wolff
Michael
Gregory
Towards the Sun
(Golden)
Michael Gregory first appeared on the music scene in the mid-’70s
(under his full name, Michael Gregory Jackson). Barely in
his 20s, he established himself as a bracingly innovative
guitarist and composer, working the jazz frontier with such
other uncompromising musicians as Leo Smith, Oliver Lake and
Julius Hemphill. By the end of that decade, he’d jettisoned
his last name (to avoid confusion with another Jackson) and
moved from instrumental avant-garde jazz to a blend of soul,
funk, pop and jazz, singing songs that sound today like they
must have been hits back then. They weren’t. The ensuing couple
decades found Gregory working in various capacities (production,
songwriting, session player) in and out of the music business.
Towards
the Sun picks up with graceful aplomb as if there were
no gap in time at all. In fact, it was recorded over the whole
of the ’90s. While fans of soulful ’70s and ’80s artists (Stevie
Wonder, Lionel Richie, etc.) will find easy entrance into
Gregory’s music, it’s also filled with subtle surprises that
acknowledge his background in the gleefully iconoclastic fringes.
All is not as it appears, with layering and compositional
flourishes embedded in the songs, revealing themselves in
slyly gentle ways. From the graceful modulations of “If I
Only Had a Minute” to the thick guitar dazzle of “Love’s Parade,”
this is an album filled with rich singing, inventive playing,
and alluring, mesmerizing and cliché-free hooks.
—David
Greenberger
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