Canadian Audiophile’s Mishaps and Misadventures

Nat King Cole’s 10th Anniversary was a momentous release in 1955 because it marked one of the first times a label mined its vaults and released unreleased tracks to the public. Such a practice might not seem like a big deal in the “download age,” but back in good ol’ ’55, it was something out of the ordinary.

Cole was a substantial success since he had signed with Capitol Records in 1943 as the leader of the King Cole Trio. He was skilled as a jazz pianist at that point, but more attention was being paid to his vocal talents. Cole’s tunes started to feature more and more vocals until he pretty much left the piano bench for a career as a full-time vocalist. The collection of music found on 10th Anniversary is culled from his jazz and easy-listening days and highlights a time of growth and transition.

By the time 10th Anniversary came out, Cole had announced to the world that he was going solo and would be leaving the King Cole Trio moniker behind. The album, then, reflected a bit of a shift and gave fans a chance to hear both where Nat King Cole had been and where Nat King Cole was going with the rest of his extraordinary career.

The reissue of 10th Anniversary in 2008, along with the reissue of many Nat King Cole albums, marks this period of transition with solid presentation. Many of the songs from 10th Anniversary have never been featured on CD before, so for Cole fans this collection will be a real treat. In fact, this is the first time this album has been reissued in any form since its first release. For collectors, that’s a pretty big deal.

One side of the album (remember when albums used to come with “sides?”) is dedicated to King Cole Trio recordings from its later stages, mostly featuring material from between 1945 and 1949. The Trio, comprised of Cole on piano and vocal, Oscar Moore on guitar, and Johnny Miller on bass, were among the first jazz groups to set up the now-popular arrangement of guitar, bass, and piano.

The Trio sounds splendid on classics like “Dream A Little Dream of Me,” “The Love Nest,” and “I’m an Errand Boy for Rhythm.” The album features three different configurations of the Trio, as on some tracks Irving Ashby moves in to play guitar and Joe Comfort takes over on bass. Regardless of the formation, the King Cole Trio works like a dream. “Lulubelle,” which features Ashby on guitar, is a grand example of the ability of the Trio to fit together under Cole’s guidance.

The second side of the record features vocal recordings and a more orchestral sound. Arranged by Capitol Records hit-makers like Pete Rugolo, Dave Cavanaugh, and Les Baxter, the second part of the album reflects more of where Nat King Cole was headed with his stellar career. He takes center stage and commands every song with care and his trademark vocal style.

Whether he’s singing a majestic ballad (“Lovelight”) or a big band number (“I Wish I Were Somebody Else”), Cole commands with his ability to adapt to various genres. One interesting little ditty is “The Story of My Wife,” which manages to be sweet and fun without being tacky. Nat King Cole always had a gift for singing with charm and affection that drew people in to the music. That gift is evident all over 10th Anniversary.

Nat King Cole’s 10th Anniversary is a collector’s dream. Featuring a nice compilation of songs that represents a transitional era in his career, this album will be a must-have for lovers of Nat King Cole’s everlasting excellence. Personally, I’ll be returning to this recording again and again.

8/10

Visions of Martha making her way down a fire escape frantically with the strap of a high-heeled shoe in her mouth and a wadded-up pair of panties gripped in her hand temper I Know You’re Married But I’ve Got Feelings Too with a sense of urgency and a sense of treachery and a sense of peril.

Part broken-hearted, part howl-at-the-moon, part soulful-shitstorm, the stellar youngest Wainwright is often noted for being a ball of emotion (most of it directed at the shitty parenting skills of Loudon Wainwright III) and a citadel of profane and unrefined impulse. She’s also despairingly needy and distressed; a true trickster with a hiked-up skirt and a wounded soul attached to the bottle.

Aw hell, it’s light and shade for all of us in the end anyway.

I Know You’re Married But I’ve Got Feelings Too exemplifies the gloomy patterns we fall into in hopes of finding pleasure. By focusing on our lost wishes and our frantic, obsessive dreams, we’re able to give a blessing to a small splinter of sunshine before once again shrinking back into the shadows to bear witness to our own devices.

It’s not surprising that the cover of Martha’s second album – and can you believe that? – features her prone on a sofa, legs bare, ready to victimize or be victimized. This record is that openness, it is that austerity, and it is that discrimination.

Take for instance “Bleeding All Over You,” fierce title and all. She messily lays her soul out and suffers the wounded results: “My heart was made for bleeding all over you/And I know you’re married but I’ve got feelings too/But I still love you.”

Martha seeks implicit approval incessantly and is incessantly frayed or flung by love and living, it seems. On “So Many Friends,” she bemoans the direction her life has taken. “I have lost so many friends/I have gained so many memories.”

Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Thankfully, dear Martha has found her way through the depths of her tormented choices and the directions her life has taken her. She is more than willing to look forward and courteously assembles what she can. “Comin’ Tonight” lets us know that she’s still searching for that encounter and is willing to forget it when it’s done.

But in the end, what can Martha do?

A tempest of bad choices – that’s why we love her – and a throng of heroic attempts rush through her life in song with frankness and audacity. She’ll get up again. She’ll climb down another fire escape. And we’ll be there, every step of the way.

8/10

From the mind of Diddy or P. Diddy or Piddy D. or whatever the hell he’s calling himself these days comes Danity Kane, a quintet forged in the reality TV flames of his series Making the Band. The girls sprang out of the third installment of the show and signed to Bad Boy Records. Their first album, a self-titled 2006 “effort,” sold a million copies in the United States but didn’t chart well in other countries where consumers have ears.

March 2008 finally saw the release of Welcome to the Dollhouse, the long-awaited follow-up to the debut. Once again the record was released by Bad Boy and once again the record snapped to the top of the U.S. charts.

An overproduced mess, Welcome to the Dollhouse is a really dreadful experience. Using the regrettable hip-hop trend of focusing on the producers instead of the actual musical act, the girls in Danity Kane simply drift to the backdrop on the majority of the tracks. Instead, it seems as though this is an excuse to feature Timbaland protégé Danja, Mario Winans, Diddy, and a selection of other big money producers.

The quintet is as tasteless as paper plates, though, and the slick cabinet of production is actually rather apt over their featureless voices. Aided and abetted by computers whenever doable, the girls fall back on overproduction to collect a feeble facade of consistency. They’re just all over the map, though, and the record sounds unbelievably slipshod. It actually made me long for The Pussycat Dolls.

Nicole Scherzinger, save me now! (Trust me; I’ve had that dream before).

Welcome to the Dollhouse’s insipidness is only balanced by its qualified incompetence. A track like “Ecstasy,” for instance, is out-and-out unlistenable because of the heap of breathy attempts at sexiness filling up the showy backdrop to the song. It doesn’t help matters that the song is four-and-a-half minutes long, which is an eternity for this drivel.

Then there’s “Bad Girl,” the album’s second single behind the awful “Damaged,” features an apparent video featuring WWE Divas. The song is set against an aggravating beat and silly scale-singing that feels more clumsy than controlled. Imagining WWE Divas frolicking around to this nonsense was good for a preposterous mental image, though.

Other songs are just flat out off the wall, like the softheaded “Strip Tease” that opens with a huge breathing exercise or the dull “Lights Out” that again features breathing exercises. I have no idea if these girls were doing yoga during production, but it really becomes trying after exhalation is featured with such frequency. An alternative title for the album could have been Breathing Lessons.

Add to the forgettable songs a handful of pompously brash “interludes” and you’ve got one of the silliest efforts in recent memory. This album is a bag of excremental gibberish better suited to be set ablaze and set on Diddy’s porch.

Overall, Welcome to the Dollhouse is a contrived “effort” that should be avoided. Fans of Making the Band will likely herd to this record like famished buffalo, but the rest of us should be avoiding it at all costs.

1/10

With a taste for the theatrical and heavy notes of Broadway-esque style, Jeremy Schonfeld has cracked open his mind and is sharing the results on 37 Notebooks. Fans of big, bold musical theatre will find a lot to like about Schonfeld’s record, as the songs play together like some kind of musical of the mind. There are boisterous numbers and poignant pieces here and Schonfeld’s sense for the “big song” is apparent from the outset.

It is important to note that Schonfeld is the songwriter here. He does not sing on each track and, in fact, he does not sing on most of them. It may be fair to suggest that this is a sort of “various artists” compilation, but Scholfeld’s heart is in the music and his art is the focal point of 37 Notebooks.

We’re first introduced to his sense of the grand story with the first track, “Storyteller.” Sung by Schonfeld, this little ditty introduces us to some of the tales on the record and serves as a sort of “gather round” moment.

From the warm introduction, Schonfeld’s 37 Notebooks are plunged through with emotional energy. Employing a host of different singers with different sensibilities, the record spins from delightful love songs to sad tales of loss while telling its great central story of the art of the song.

Some of the tunes on the album appeared elsewhere before finding their resting place on 37 Notebooks. “Song for New Orleans” was commissioned by the Winter Harbor Theatre Company for a Hurricane Katrina tribute record, for instance. Other songs were originally written for The A-Train Musicals (“Do You Want My Life?” and “A Simple Plan”).

Schonfeld’s songs feel right at home in the genre of musical theatre. The silly lyrics of “Greta” paint a picture of an overly scrupulous woman looking for an ideal mate. Singer Amy Spanger tells us “I’m not always this crazy / More of a laid-back and mellower chick / Smoke a few bongs / Read a book / Catch a flick / And I’m set for the night.”

It is Schonfeld’s ability to create such characters that makes his songwriting notable and creates such broad and enticing tapestries for the record.

To be honest, 37 Notebooks won’t be for everyone. The excitable and theatrical sense of the lyrics and of the songs is more suited to those with a keenness for musical theatre and Broadway, although there are many softer moments that will likely win Schonfeld some new converts to his brand of lyrical justice. The songwriting is strong and beautiful and Schonfeld’s ability to transform his headspace into a breeding ground for authentic characters is certainly worth checking out.

Overall, 37 Notebooks is a collection of quality songs built from the ground up. Jeremy Schonfeld proves himself to be a solid songwriter with the ability to legitimately take on different characters and formulate stories from the heart.

6/10

The best album of 2008 is Duffy’s Rockferry.

There I said it. You can stop reading now.

In all sincerity, it’s probably better to simply pick up the Welsh singer’s debut and bask in its brilliance. Duffy – that’s Aimee Anne Duffy – is part of a collective known loosely and rather garishly as “the new Amys” in an obvious reference to The Winehouse. In the business of comparisons, it’s not a bad one.

With speakers blaring in the living room and a gargantuan glass of wine on the table, Duffy’s Rockferry took flight much in the same way that Back to Black took flight for me. First, there’s a simple recognition along the lines of “Oh shit, that voice!” Second, the music sets in and forms a sort of snug cocoon around the listener as if to suggest there’s no escape. Third, the record ends a little over a half hour later with little by way of memory and an easy feeling of opaque elation remains.

A second listen demands a clearer head, which for me meant waiting until morning. Awake, I head for the stereo and throw a wink at Duffy’s blonde head on the cover of Rockferry. After pressing PLAY, the piano at the beginning of the title track jars me and the obscenely overwhelming voice, this fucking marvellous voice, begins to fiddle with my inner workings.

“Rockferry” is one of those songs that simply call out to be listened to. When Duffy ventures into the higher registry during the latter half of the song, one easily imagines Joss Stone looking on invidiously. Her power is incontestable and her vocal control is simply confounding.

The title track was a hell of a thing to live up to, but this Welsh Wonder doubles up and drives fervently and mightily through melodic ready-for-excessive-rotation hits like “Warwick Avenue” and the extraordinary “Delayed Devotion.”

Duffy’s song-writing – yeah she does that – is ballsy and persuasive. On “Syrup and Honey,” she implores the subject “Don’t you be wasting all your money on syrup and honey/Because I’m sweet enough.” And she courteously channels a bit of Dusty Springfield for the album’s final track, the gorgeous “Distant Dreamer.”

At the end of the day it doesn’t matter much if Duffy or The Winehouse winds up singing me to sleep, as both are seamlessly brilliant women. Duffy’s poignant intonations are hard to resist and Rockferry is the perfect debut album for a certain star.

In fact, she might have us saying “Amy who?” before we know it.

10/10

Filled with contagious grooves and bouncy piano, Jukebox the Ghost’s Let Live and Let Ghosts is a sparkling 60s pop revival sort of record. The DC-born, Philly-based three-piece is skilled at conducting themselves with relentless glee, adding triple harmonies to songs and bounding around like a bunch of crazed preschoolers with immense musical talent and endless optimism.

Let Live and Let Ghosts sounds like a sort of amped-up Ben Folds record, with bouncier piano and more liberal doses of electric jubilation. Serving as an excellent introduction to an incredibly fun new group, this debut rekindles the joy of sing-along pop without sounding dorky or forced.

Pushing straight through the geek rock of bands like Weezer and into a more delicate sense of composition, Jukebox the Ghost is here to stay.

Featuring Ben Thornewill on piano/vocals, Tommy Siegel on guitar/vocals, and Jesse Kristin on drums/vocals, the setup for Jukebox the Ghost is humble and pleasant. Thornewill’s classical piano training is evident from the get-go, spicing up songs like the enchanting “Victoria” with tantalizing notes and scales.

Let Live and Let Ghosts bounces joyfully from miniature rock operas to dreamy multiple-movement pop songs, allowing Thornewill and Co. to really show their stuff.

The repetition of piano on “Good Day” imposes the band’s glee on the listener and the lyrics encase the song with a sense of cheerfulness, letting the chorus’ “Whoa-oh-oh-oh” backdrop take the listener to a happier time.

Composing music that soaks the soul in a balm of often-ridiculous merriment, Let Live and Let Ghosts is a peppy album that doesn’t lack depth. The compositions mosey through tempo changes on the stirring “Beady Eyes on the Horizon” to calm balladry on the affectionate and moving “My Heart’s the Same” with a gentle sense of control, giving the listener a continually developing experience.

All in all, Let Live and Let Ghosts is an exciting album filled with remarkably sunny and alluring sing-along-pop righteousness. Thornewill, Siegel, and Kristin are a taut unit who seem born to deliver records like this.

Set against a sea of comparisons to Queen and They Might Be Giants, Jukebox the Ghost might have a lot of living up to do, but I think they’ll fare rather well.

7.5/10

Spiritualized’s sixth studio album is a special one. Coming five years after their previous album, Amazing Grace from 2003, and following frontman Jason Pierce’s near-death experience after he contracted an inflammation and infection of the eyelid and bilateral pneumonia, Songs in A&E is a dramatic set of sweet delights.

The album’s title takes its name from the long period of time Pierce spent in the Accident and Emergency ward and the songs are dedicated to the staff at The Royal London Hospital where he received treatment. While most of the songs were written before Pierce fell ill, the sense in which he vocalizes the sentiments gives each track an added weight through his experiences.

Instead of glooming it up with senseless foolishness, Pierce conducts things skilfully and turns out a stunning record. The soundscapes are complete and fascinating, unfolding with tenderness and a sort of considered calm as though Pierce is reminding us of the preciousness of life without getting sappy.

Indeed, much of Spiritualized’s Songs in A&E has poignancy embedded in the structure. Pierce isn’t afraid to cut deeper, though, and some of the songs contain copious amounts of ache and resentment (“You Lie You Cheat”). For the most part, though, Songs in A&E is a life-affirming and gorgeous record with a strong sense of humanity to it.

Inspiring music is often tough to rate, especially when so many bands in search of the perfect uplifting record are prone to venture into a sort of Coldplay-on-steroids feel. With Spiritualized, however, it feels authentic.

“Death Take Your Fiddle” is, all at once, bleak and rousing. When Pierce sings “So Death take your fiddle/play a song for me,” one can’t help but flinch.

Pierce’s small, conked-out vocals are what tie each track together. Musically, things are accurate and on-point but not overly unique. It is the broken words and intonations that make Songs in A&E something significant, as Pierce often sounds like a prophet that’s been to the other side and can’t decide whether it’s heaven or hell he prefers.

“I Gotta Fire” sounds like a barn-burning rock nightmare, while “Baby I’m Just a Fool” brings the tenderness back into the scenery. Most of Songs in A&E feels like forlorn thoughts cast out from a hospital bed when the future isn’t certain but optimism still reigns supreme.

Spiritualized’s Songs in A&E is perfect music for listening to the end or the beginning of your life. Its CD booklet contains a powerful visual theme of intravenous drip catheters designed to serve as deliverance, but it’s the music that really offers spiritual cover here.

Containing moving songs with genuine soul and passion, this is Spiritualized’s best album to date and a wonderful study of the extremes of the human experience.

9/10

I have this recurring dream where Paris Hilton is getting her ass kicked while trying to sing “Stars Are Blind” to a crowd of a couple hundred confounded onlookers. The Heiress is trying to make her way through the ironic line “Some people never go beyond their stupid pride” with that silly backing track coming out of a tape recorder perched on the stage behind her when she’s knocked right square in the face by a Converse shoe. In my dream, someone roundhouse kicks Paris Hilton in the face. It’s the single greatest visual I’ve had of her that didn’t take place in night-vision green.

When the dream ends, I have no idea who roundhouse kicked Paris Hilton and I wake up with a Cheshire cat grin on my face. My wife gives me a look and says “You had that dream again” and I nod.

One day while making my way through MySpace, I came across FARCHILD and knew instantly that she was the owner of that Converse shoe. Something about the way she looks, about the way she appears to defy convention by her very existence, tells me that she’s the one who roundhouse kicked the Heiress.

Now after checking out her debut, Chivalry Has Died, I’m more than convinced she’s the one. FARCHILD (or Jane C.) is the personification of the do-it-yourself grassroots indie artist. She is the executive producer and the sound engineer. She wrote, produced, arranged, programmed, and engineered all of Chivalry Has Died. She plays guitar, keys, drums, bass, and electronics. She sings, raps, screams, and growls.

FARCHILD does it all.

Chivalry Has Died contains music written and created between 2006 and 2008 and represents the arrival of FARCHILD as the quintessential ass-kicking female out of Seattle with a story to tell and an attitude that chews up pop princesses and spits them out. Her lyrics are audacious and clever, providing a nice breather from the usual worthless pageantry. When someone can use words like “lascivious” without flinching or sounding glitzy, something special’s going on.

The musical tapestries of Chivalry Has Died are incredible. Songs emerge out of the fog and contain walls of sound and stunning pieces of melody. Tunes dip in and out as FARCHILD experiments with the disposition of her instruments, never scared of venturing outside the box and always adeptly toying with the elements. The album is bookended with a couple of instrumental tracks (“Quite a Bomb” and “Peter Piper”) which add a sense of obedient ambiance to the project.

With just eight tracks, Chivalry Has Died is unhappily a touch on the short side. Luckily it doesn’t lack any of the impact of a full album and FARCHILD manages to say in eight songs what many artists couldn’t say in twenty.

The striking and haunting composition “Red Moon” sets things in motion and FARCHILD’s dazzling vocals intone such poetry as “Now so potent, skulking stale scent nestled under my tongue” with philosophical openness.

Other songs are a bit more mischievous, like the standout “Ey, Papi.” The track takes aim at the club pick-up game, with FARCHILD steadily in control of the game and threatening to knock some poor sap’s tooth out if he doesn’t submit to her demands for respect and honesty. “I am anything but docile, so don’t bend me,” she says.

FARCHILD takes aim at consumerist culture and quick fixes on tracks like “Timmy’s a Rebel” and “Quo,” the latter of which describes people who go to great lengths to cheat Father Time but couldn’t care less about the state of the nation as it sinks beneath their feet.

FARCHILD means business and she demands your attention but won’t beg for it. A thrilling project with equal parts art and accessibility, Chivalry Has Died contains a literary compendium of lyrics and a vigorous dose of attitude wrapped up in vastly entrancing compositions. Jane C. is a remarkably gifted individual with a lot to say and an unbending attention to detail that allows her to turn out some of the most compelling music of the year thus far.

Chivalry Has Died is available for purchase through FARCHILD’s website and you can drop by her MySpace page for a glimpse into her mad, mad world. Watch out for her Converse, though. I hear she’s got a lethal fucking roundhouse.

8.5/10

Liverpool’s Ladytron is back with Velocifero, a corker of an electro-pop-dance album.

Using an assortment of vintage analogue equipment, Ladytron is able to capture a unique sound and splice electronic music and basic pop-rock song structures to create addictive melodies.

Comprised of Helen Marnie, Daniel Hunt, Mira Aroyo, and Reuben Wu, the group has won legions of fans through far-reaching touring and gobs of remixes of tracks by Nine Inch Nails, Soft Cell, Placebo, and many more.

With Velocifero, the band’s fourth studio album, Ladytron has slimmed things down somewhat and has produced a more undemanding electro-pop record. While 2005’s Witching Hour marked a creative high point, this 2008 release is more accessible and less experimental than most of their previous work.

Most of Velocifero seems perfectly at home in dark dance clubs accented by flashing neon lights and perspiring bodies circling and grinding to the pulsating beats and devastatingly hip electronic backdrops. Some of it ventures beyond the touchstone dance texture, however, and plays with a sense of coarseness.

While Velocifero is certainly more conventional than some of Ladytron’s previous releases, it still contains some of the boundary-pushing approach that has made the band a success.

Two songs are sung in Bulgarian (“Black Cat” and “Klevta,” the latter a cover from a 1972 Bulgarian children’s movie), highlighting the Liverpoolians’ sense of culture.

The lead-off single, “Ghosts,” is a rhythmic club popper that is as bold as it is contagious. The vocals whirl over the gush of keys and beats in the background and the melody is outrageously entrancing.

Velocifero may well be Ladytron’s most listenable record to date, as its wall-to-wall melodies stay close to home and remain safely in the comfort zone for most fans of electro-pop acts.

The industrial snap of “Predict the Day” is balanced by a whistle and Alessandro Cortini‘s (Nine Inch Nails) edgy production assistance. The anthemic “Tomorrow” and the elegant “Venture” make perfect closing tracks for Velocifero, exemplifying the journey of sound and closing things down as the lights come up.

Ladytron’s latest may well prove the band’s most popular release to date. Tempered squarely with sturdy melodies and danceable beats, Velocifero is the band’s most accessible work. It still plays with the tougher edges of electro-pop in some moments, but overall this release is soft candy.

7/10

With determination, you can accomplish quite a lot in under three minutes. In terms of Newmarket’s Tokyo Police Club, entire stories can be told in under three minutes and melodies can bob and weave through the confines of indie rock and post-punk revival without being hasty. On Elephant Shell, the Ontario group’s first LP, that’s just what they do.

With only one song clocking in over three minutes and a total runtime a smidgen under 28 minutes, Elephant Shell is one of the most succinct albums of the year and matches with REM’s Accelerate for depth through concision. The music is intricate and yet carries an unfussiness that creates melodies that are utterly hummable and alluring.

The bar was set pretty high after the critically-acclaimed Lesson in Crime EP, as its quick introduction to the band tore through 16-minutes of blazing guitar-riff heaven. In danger of perhaps being too to the point, Tokyo Police Club waited a year and a half before finally dropping Elephant Shell last month. The wait was worth it.

One of the things instantly apparent is how frontman David Monks has expanded on the themes in Lesson in Crime and tears a slightly Decemberists-quality swath through Elephant Shell. The lyrics are strong, painting elegant word pictures that sail over the band’s pensive pop surroundings with ease. Monks’ lyrics are genuine, yet filled with a sense of gloom and desolation at times. Always eloquent, one can get a deep sense of insight with his simple phrases.

Songs begin suddenly and end just as abruptly, such as the album’s first track, “Centennial.” As though setting the bar for short, effective anthems, “Centennial” works as an overture and as a sign of things to come.

Other songs pour brilliantly into small spaces, like the graceful “Tessellate” with its spirited lyrics and clap-along tempo. Monks’ description of “all the kids who cut their knees on that old schoolyard fence” calls upon grey-skied memories and tickles of rebellion.

Monks and Co. deliver songs with mental clarity, unfolding pictures and dusty memories with a simple swoop of phraseology or an elegant flourish of guitar and keyboard. Songs like “Sixties Remake” and the bouncy “Your English is Good” showcase the group’s conciseness, as tight bass lines play with sharp rhythm and background vocals to create immediate poppy sticks of musical dynamite.

Always sharp and never tedious, Elephant Shell is a phenomenal follow-up to Lesson in Crime and serves as a beautiful collection of lyrics and quick songs that get to the point and linger long after the closing notes melt away.

9/10