BuzzCuts: New Music
Brit Lily Allen's debut album is sassy, smart fun; Connick celebrates New Orleans' musical heritage; and Katharine McPhee is way over the rainbow on urbanized, formulaic debut CD. On his new CD, guitarist Bill Kirchen should pick more, sing less; and Norah Jones shows more of herself on new album.
Lily Allen, "Alright, Still" (Capitol)
Lily Allen, "Alright, Still" (Capitol)
Harry Connick Jr., "Oh My Nola" (Columbia); "Chanson du Vieux Carre" (Marsalis Music)
Katharine McPhee, "Katharine McPhee" (RCA)
Bill Kirchen, "Hammer of the Honky-Tonk Gods" (Proper)
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, "Some Loud Thunder" (self released)
Norah Jones, "Not Too Late" (Blue Note)
It's been six months since British singer Lily Allen's debut album was released in the United Kingdom, snagging her critical raves, platinum status and thousands of Myspace.com friends.
Finally, the sassy, addictive blend of reggae, rock steady and pop is being released in the United States.
Hallelujah!
Blessed with a smooth, light vibrato that breathes youthful wisdom, the baby-faced 21-year-old delves into the subtleties of teen hurt, relationships and sex with major chutzpah — plus a great backing band of horns, guitars and catchy beats.
"Smile" is a cheeky tell-off to a lecherous ex, skirting on a melody so radio-friendly, it's almost perfect.
"At worst I feel bad for a while, but then I just smile," she sings of his crying attempts to reunite.
Anyone who has ever been hit on by a loser will be able to appreciate "Knock 'Em Out," a joyfully snarky hip-hop litany in which Allen tells a guy she can't give him her number "because I lost my phone."
Making her crystal clear voice dip and float, Allen shows her wariness to societal pressures on the exceptional "Everything's Just Wonderful," demanding, "I wanna be able to eat spaghetti Bolognese/ And not feel bad about it for days and days and days."
Call it feminism for a new generation. It's about time. (Solvej Schou)
Harry Connick Jr., "Oh My NOLA" (Columbia); "Chanson du Vieux Carre" (Marsalis Music)
When Hurricane Katrina struck, Harry Connick, Jr. rushed to his hometown days before the National Guard arrived, traveling around the flood-ravaged city to aid the victims and appeal for help on national TV. Connick puts these heartbreaking memories of dead bodies and neglected people to verse in his original song, "All These People," a duet with gospel singer Kim Burrell, that provides a deeply personal centerpiece to his new vocal album, "Oh, My NOLA" (Columbia).
"NOLA," recorded last June, is one of two CDs that Connick is releasing simultaneously just weeks before Mardi Gras. The other, "Chanson du Vieux Carre" (Marsalis Music) is a largely instrumental jazz big band album recorded in 2003 that mixes Connick originals with his updated arrangements of such New Orleans classics as Louis Armstrong's "Someday You'll Be Sorry," Sidney Bechet's "Petite Fleur," and Professor Longhair's "Mardi Gras In New Orleans."
"Chanson" shines a spotlight on Connick's often overlooked jazz big band that boasts some scintillating ensemble playing, a powerful rhythm section, Connick's economical piano solos, and such distinctive soloists as trumpeter Leroy Jones and trombonist Lucien Barbarin. As an arranger, Connick demonstrates a deft touch whether on his own darker "Ash Wednesday" which uses lush orchestral colors a la Duke Ellington or Paul Barbarin's infectiously joyful "Bourbon Street Parade" which climaxes in swaggering brassy ensemble play.
On "NOLA," Connick the singer stirs up an appealing gumbo of jazz, gospel, R&B, country and funk on songs associated with hometown musical idols such as Armstrong ("Hello Dolly") and Raymond Myles ("Elijah Rock") as well as family favorites ("Won't You Come Home, Bill Bailey?"). Connick adds some new twists to old favorites: Hank Williams' "Jambalaya (On the Bayou)" starts with a catchy New Orleans groove only to abruptly switch to medium tempo big band swing.
Connick's own funky "Do Dat Thing" pays tribute to departed New Orleans musical legends from Al Hirt to James Booker, while his title track, done in a traditional New Orleans jazz style, honors the city's living legacy by bringing in veteran and young New Orleans musicians. Connick's optimistic spirit finds expression in an old Allen Toussaint song "Yes We Can" which could serve as a theme song for the city's recovery.
These CDs rank among the most passionate and inspired of Connick's career — a joyous celebration of New Orleans' rich musical legacy that also seeks to ensure its future. A portion of the proceeds are being donated to the New Orleans Habitat Musicians' Village, a project launched by Connick and saxophonist Branford Marsalis to build several hundred homes for displaced musicians. (Charles J. Gans)
Katharine McPhee, "Katharine McPhee" (RCA)
Katharine McPhee is over the rainbow — way over it. In fact, she even has a song on her debut CD titled "Over It."
Fans of last year's "American Idol" runner-up may be surprised at Kat '07: a sexed-up, urbanized siren programmed to do battle with Ciara, Christina and Beyonce. While her soaring version of "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" was credited by many with catapulting her into the finals of the nationwide competition, there's much less of that kind of singing here. It may disappoint fans who liked the good-girl image she displayed on the show.
Her producers and handlers meticulously calculated everything on this disc to appeal to the widest possible range of listeners and broadcast formats, from hip-hop to pop to R&B to adult contemporary (I kept waiting for heavy metal and polka tracks to surface, just to cover every possible combination). Sometimes it works, like on the opening track, "Love Story," featuring McPhee's trademark "ooh-oohs" that evoke her (repeated) performances of "Black Horse In A Cherry Tree" on the show last year.
And sometimes it doesn't, like on "Open Toes," a hip-hop ode to shoe shopping where she sounds quite out of her element. "Do What You Do" has somewhat more street credibility, fitting in easily on urban stations or BET.
"Not Ur Girl" is the closest thing to a mainstream pop song for the teeny-bopper audience, with a catchy melody over a standard rock beat that makes it the most accessible song on the album.
But it's on the power ballads "Home" and "Ordinary World" that McPhee shows she really can sing, with a voice that is at once sultry and breathy in the lower registers, and strong when it needs to be in the higher ranges. These two tracks, destined for dentist offices and supermarkets around the world, will remind listeners why they voted for her in the first place. (Wayne Parry)
Bill Kirchen, "Hammer of the Honky-Tonk Gods" (Proper)
Long one of the great rockabilly sidemen, Bill Kirchen has been hampered as a solo artist by a vocal delivery stiffer than the neck of his Telecaster guitar.
That's the case on "Hammer of the Honky-Tonk Gods." Kirchen tears off riffs worthy of his days with Commander Cody And His Lost Planet Airmen, but insipid singing infects the rest of the band.
Even with Nick Lowe on bass, "Hammer" spins for 25 minutes before things start to swing. That's when Kirchen, buoyed by soulful backup vocalists, brings "Devil With The Blue Dress" to life.
The next cut is also a gem — Kirchen's own "One More Day," featuring acoustic guitar and sounding like an outtake from the Commander's masterful "Lost In The Ozone" album.
Material's not a problem. Kirchen contributes several worthy original tunes, and most of the covers are well chosen, including Arthur Alexander's lovely "If It's Really Got To Be This Way" as the finale. But for Kirchen's next solo set, he would be well advised to do more picking and less singing. (Steven Wine)
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, "Some Loud Thunder" (self released)
Being one of the Internet's biggest breakout acts is both a blessing and a curse.
With the overwhelming attention showered on their 2005 self-titled debut, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah could have stuck with the same winsome formula that helped sell more than 200,000 copies worldwide or veer in a different direction with their second release, "Some Loud Thunder." To the dismay of some fans, CYHSY chose the latter, but it shows the band's clever staying power.
The album, produced by indie champion Dave Fridmann (Flaming Lips, Mercury Rev), is both serious and whimsical. Gone is the peppiness of the debut, replaced by a dark and brooding yet slightly more sophisticated collection. The group holds tightly to their DIY roots and continues to experiment while gathering new momentum. "Some Loud Thunder" only adds to the band's mystique as singer and songwriter Alec Ounsworth continues his drive to be this generation's David Byrne, with his whiny and weird yet accessible vocals and art-house lyrics. The set begins with a slightly annoying fuzzy title track but picks up steam with "Emily Jean Stock," the undulating "Mama, Won't You Keep Them Castles in the Air and Burning?" and the optimistically raucous "Satan Said Dance."
Where the debut came driving out of the gate, "Some Loud Thunder" stalls at times, but overall has the impact of an imminent storm. True music snobs may initially snub the album, but don't judge "Some Loud Thunder" on the first — or even second — listen; this is an album that gets better over time. (Ari Bendersky)
Norah Jones, "Not Too Late" (Blue Note)
It's easy — too easy — to fall in love with the beauty of Norah Jones' voice.
Jones' voice and the serenity of her music earned her fame and fortune, truthfully, as a background singer — in the background of a cocktail party or a seduction.
Make that mistake with her new disc, "Not Too Late," and you'll miss the coming of age of a promising singer-songwriter. After not writing the majority of the songs on her first two albums, she writes or co-writes them all here. That new self-confidence is rewarded, making her music more consistent, less of a self-conscious hop-scotch between styles. Tellingly, the only song that feels unwelcome, the New Orleans homage "Sinkin' Soon," is the only one where her name isn't first in the songwriting credits.
Behind the gorgeous facade are songs of unease. Jones sings of a suicidal woman walking a moonlit beach, about loneliness and fractured relationships, about a "deranged" president. Hope arrives at the end, where she sings that it's "not too late for love."
Jones' music has always been a peaceful island in a sea of "American Idol"-influenced belters. The rap? She's boring.
No one who truly listens here can make that complaint. (David Bauder)