The Cynics

Living Is The Best Revenge
Get Hip Recordings

C’mere junior, let
daddy show you how it’s done. After seven long years, The Cynics are finally
back with Living Is The Best Revenge,
easily their best album ever and my pick for top 10 of the year. OK, OK, so
maybe that’s a little bold, but these granddaddies of garage, who helped set
the tone for fuzzy slop ‘n’ sleaze in the first place, haven’t missed a beat.

The renewed fascination with garage
rock that’s sweeping the nation is fantastic. But I’ll hear one of these new
bowl-cut Romeos touted as one-of-a-kind and I just laugh and laugh and laugh.
The Cynics did it first and did it better. Still do. And unlike a lot of
recordings, Living Is The Best Revenge comes
damn close to the sonic howl that the band’s capable of unleashing in live
settings.

From the
first blood-curdling scream on the opening track, “Turn Me Loose,” the
relentless, stompin’ mania of “The Tone,” to the quasi-folk psychedelia of “The
Ballad Of J.C. Holmes,” The Cynics blast out 12 classic garage rock tunes
steeped in melody and power. Recording with producer Tim Kerr in Austin, Texas,
these vets took only three days to get on with living… the best revenge.

— Frank De Blase

Loose Fur

Loose Fur
Drag City

Jeff Tweedy becomes an interesting subject if you’re
relatively new to the whole Wilco phenomenon, especially if your ears are
unaccustomed to actual lyrics and actual vocals. I’ve heard a fair amount of
griping about his inability to craft lyrics that are literal, not merely
evocative. And I’ve heard similar complaints about Wilco’s all-too-obvious
attempts to subvert its rather traditional roots-rock structures in misguided
stabs at innovation.

I suppose
these tendencies reach their apex on that band’s latest release, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot — a record that
enlists everyone’s favorite sonic adventurer, Jim O’Rourke, for mixing and
overdub detail. O’Rourke and Tweedy reunite as Loose Fur, and for their debut
they are joined by percussionist Glen Kotche, who they are both familiar with.

Musically
speaking, there are some subversive elements here — electronics on the
opener, “Laminated Cat,” and a clever use of dissonance to eventually draw out
the more beautiful layers of “So Long.” Much like Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, these are perfectly fine songs that have been
disassembled and rebuilt from an entirely new slant. They’re not so much the
product of serendipity as they are the product of the intellect.

Ever
since recording his first album of proper songs (1999’s Eureka), O’Rourke seems to have become a master at crafting sweetly
caustic lyrics. Loose Fur is his
first recording to include lyric transcriptions in the liner notes. And they’re
worth repeating: “If I said I love you, I was talking to myself.” “A slip of
the tongue is all it takes (it seems you need a helping hand), to find yourself
in someone else’s place (back in the saddle again), and don’t pretend you don’t
know where it’s heading for.”

These cheeky sentiments are
countered by Tweedy’s writing, which, as the old complaint goes, remains
oblique. (In an intriguing slight of hand, some of it is reprised from Yankee Hotel.)But it’s hauntingly suggestive. Any album that opens with the line
“Springtime comes and leaves are back on the trees again, the snipers are
harder to see (my friends)” must be somewhat special on a lyrical level. I’ll
leave the deconstruction to the grad schoolers.

— Chad Oliveiri

Common

Electric Circus
MCA

Common has always
been more literate and philosophical than his radio peers. His last album, Like Water for Chocolate, was perfect
Sunday afternoon HipHop: smooth beats, a sustained chill throughout, and
“The Light,” a track that seems to define the artist’s transition
from Common Sense to just plain Common.

Common’s new album has bounce. Where
Chocolate was a cool breeze, Electric Circus is a full summer day,
complete with amusement park. Circus contains Common’s increasingly peaceful vibe — song three is titled
“Aquarius,” there’s a nifty Doors-esque keyboard part at the end of
“Electric Wire Hustler Flower,” and he mentions his faith more than
the Pope on a Sunday.

But don’t let all the hippie talk
fool you: Common hasn’t gone soft. He’s an artist with a brain just trying to
grow up in a world of bling and short-lived rap careers. On “I Got a Right
Ta” — The Neptunes’ finest beat in a while — he says: “I’m the
only cat in HipHop / that’ll go to a thrift shop” and later, “I’m a
grown man / I’m too old to fist fight.” It’s this kind of enlightenment
that will have the “gangstas” taking aim, and true HipHoppers infatuated.

Electric
Circus is more textured than Chocolate,
and while “Come Close” doesn’t sound quite as legendary as “The
Light,” Common has created an album that will long outlive its
contemporaries.

— Tim Goodwin

Luciana Souza

Brazilian Duos
Sunnyside

In an age when
records are elaborately produced, sometimes simplicity wins the day. Luciana
Souza’s latest album, Brazilian Duos,
showcases her gorgeous voice against the austere accompaniment of solo guitar.

Three of Brazil’s top guitarists
have crafted exquisite arrangements, using a seductive Brazilian blend of
classical and rhythmic styles to perfectly compliment Souza’s performances, by
turns emotional and ebullient. The result is pure magic; Souza has no need for
English lyrics to enchant, and her accompanists are superb.

If it seems like Marco Pereira is
squeezing a little more than usual out of his guitar on the three-song “Baiao
Medley,” he is. His instrument is an eight-string guitar with a larger bass
range, which he also employs to play a counterpoint composed of harmonics on
the album’s final tune, “Saudade de Bahia.”

Souza’s parents, Walter Santos and
Tereza Souza, both respected Brazilian songwriters, are a strong presence here.
Her father was coaxed out of retirement to perform three of the songs with her,
including the lovely “Suas Maos,” Jobim’s beautiful “As Praias Desertas,” and
his own lilting “O Bolo.” Romero Lubambo executes some of the fanciest fretwork
on “Amanha” and “Documente,” two wonderful songs by Souza’s parents.

— Ron Netsky

Pearl Jam

Riot Act
Epic

Pearl Jam is the best
illustration of Chris Rock’s heroin joke: somebody’s doing it, but nobody wants
to admit it. Here’s a band that’s been tossed and forgotten by the majority of
critics and music listeners, but still sells out tour after tour without the
help of TRL or The Neptunes.

Riot
Act is a great rock record. Following a career path similar to Neil
Young’s, Pearl Jam will have good albums and bad albums to the untrained eye,
but always manage to keep fans interested. Where Binaural failed to deliver the promise of Yield’s Revolver-esque
quality (i.e., Binaural had a good
chance at being Pearl Jam’s Sgt Pepper’s),
Riot Act continues Binaural‘s aversion to experimentalism.
“Love Boat” opens with a nice, delicate organ part, but instead of
exploring that avenue, it falls back into Pearl Jam’s comfort zone of rock.
“Arc” is a phenomenal piece, and just when you’re waiting to see how
Pearl Jam will conquer this untested territory, it’s over. Come on, guys. Take
a chance.

The triumphs, though, overshadow the
naff moments. “1/2 Full” has Mike McCready fingering old guitar wails
from Ten, “Cropduster” is
an exceptional tune, and “All or None” should be on your next
mixtape. Again, this is great, great rock music. But now that they’re two
albums away from their best album yet, Eddie and the boys need to move on to
the next phase, or they’ll risk everyone admitting that they don’t do Pearl Jam
anymore.

— Tim
Goodwin

Cannonball Adderley

Radio Nights
Hyena

When Joel Dorn starts
a new label, jazz fans pay attention. His latest, Hyena, has re-released four
out-of-print albums that he first released on Night Records in the 1980s. His
eclectic liner notes give you a sense of the heroic digging and listening Dorn
engaged in to compile these albums; the results make the effort worthwhile.

All of the recordings — featuring
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Les McCann, Eddie Harris, and Cannonball Adderley — were
taped “off the board” during live performances. They bear the unmistakable
stamp of nights when the performers were on and their audiences were tuned in.

To focus on one, Adderley’s sets were
recorded in 1967 and 1968 at New York’s Half Note Club. His all-star bands
consisted of his brilliant brother, Nat Adderley, cornet; Joe Zawinul (later a
founding member of Weather Report), piano; Sam Jones, bass; Roy McCurdy and
Louis Hayes, drums, and, on four tunes, Charles Lloyd, tenor sax. Adderley’s
solos are especially lively, beginning melodically and occasionally venturing
off into avant-garde territory. Tunes are well-chosen, from the familiar (“Work
Song”), through the sublime (“The Song My Lady Sings”), to the unexpected
(Adderley’s wonderful take on “Fiddler on the Roof”).

— Ron Netsky

This article appears in Dec 18-24, 2002.