This intriguing L.A. folk-rock band delivers some clever fairy-tale tunes for adults. The work manages to sound at once naive and slightly grotesque. Songs like "Eucalyptus" and "Animals Wearing Clothes" have a sense of primative bestial wonder about them, with an environmentalist undercurrent. Numbers like "I Release You" and "This Old Home" offer glimpses of relationships unhinged. Acoustic strings, and raw percussion including glockenspiel merge with waves of electronic angst for a memorable mix you can't dance to.
Christine Rosander Smooth Ride Devcat Records
The debut CD of Southern California singer/songwriter Christine Rosander is appealing but uneven. There's no question that Rosander has a gorgeous voice -- pure as a Pan flute when relaxed, sweet and seductive when gently trilling. But she overstylizes, pinches, and forces it in some of these dozen tracks. She has amazing control -- but uses it too much and too blatantly, from baby-doll cooing on a love song called "Kitten" to Vegas vamping in "The New Route 66."
For the most part, her songwriting, often in collaboration with Jane Getz, Ronnie Shelton, and others, has nice variety and is chordally imaginative. But it's also sometimes peculiar. For instance, "Cattle Press," notes tell us, was inspired by an NPR story about an autistic woman who wanted to be calmed like a doctored cow in a squeeze machine. That's an interesting inspiration and a potentially rich metaphor, but turned here into a jazzy hot-to-trot burlesque, the style clashes with the fundamental helplessness of the core image.
The song "Boxer," about a troubled fighter, is preachy and repetitive, and Rosander's just not the right person to sing it. Her tone is too naturally ethereal for the grit of the lyrics.
The two gospel tunes at the album's end were also an unfortunate choice. "Balm in Gilead" is in a cheesy upbeat arrangement that sounds like something from an evangelistic TV variety show, and in "Traveling Mercy," Rosander tries to bulk up her sound in a way that's unnatural to her voice.
Plus, those tunes seem out of place with the other selections here. If Rosander wants to aim for smooth-jazz and Christian radio play both, more power to her. But for the purposes of this CD, the combination doesn't cohere.
All that aside, there are beautiful cuts that I enjoyed listening to repeatedly. They were recorded last, but are positioned first. The opening title tune, by Jane Getz and Pat Robinson, is a vibrant Mary Chapin Carpenter-type ode to the ever-elusive well-rounded, sensitive gent. "Are you kind? Considerate? / Would you give me your love if I wanted it? / Don't like wild or out of control / a speed demon tearing up the road. / I want a smooth, smooth ride, / a little comfort for this heart of mine."
"Kitten" is a sultry love song with some jazz-scat lacing. And "My Heart Is a Ghost Town" is a sprawling emotional desert of a number that wouldn't be out of place on a K.D. Lang album.
But my favorite is "Good Boy," by Rosander and Ronnie Shelton. This song about separation is probably the simplest track structurally, but it also comes across as the most heartfelt.
Rosander is a real talent, but I think less is more might be a good mantra for future projects. She's theatrically skilled in her interpretations. Now, though, she'd do better to forget all that, relax, look into her soul, and sing.
-A.C.K.
Home For Christmas: Voices From the Heartland Rounder Records
Have yourself a twangy little Christmas with this country, blues, and bluegrass-spiked holiday punch.
My favorites are the a capella numbers. "The First Noel" from Doyle Lawson and Quicksilver is the perfect no-frills, austere antidote to overly tinseled crooner albums. And the Persuasions' "You're All I Want for Christmas" dispenses with all that "tinsel and show" too, in a smooth, old-school, uptown way.
Wilson Pickett's "Jingle Bells" puts shiny hubcaps and sleek runners on that ol' sleigh.
And though the arrangement's a little stiff for Irma Thomas's "Oh, Holy Night," she has such a forceful voice and delivery that when she tells us to kneel down and pray, what can we reply, really, except "How low?"