High Bias aural fixations
June 2, 2002

ACID MOTHERS TEMPLE & THE MELTING PARASIO U.F.O.
In C
(Squealer)
Psychedelia, as was once pointed out in the Trouser Press Record Guide, has nothing to do with drugs, but instead is about seeing the world from an altered state. One of the best ways to get into an altered state of mind (sans pharmaceuticals, that is) is the use of the mantra, i.e. repetition of a single word or phrase until it takes on new meaning and your mind floats sedately away on waves of contemplation. Musically this translates into playing the same chord over and over again until the entire band fuses into a single, like-minded entity. Japan's revered freak-out ensemble Acid Mothers Temple is the perfect interpreter of this idea on In C. The title track is, of course, written by minimalist composer Terry Riley, and the group's droning, midtempo take on it should have your lobes twirling long before its half-hour length is up. Apparently inspired by Riley's mantra madness, the group also offers its own similar originals: the aggressive, pounding "In E" and the quiet, meditative "In D." Needless to say, this music—essentially one chord coddled, caressed or thrashed until fatigue prevents the musicians from carrying it further—ain't for everyone, or even every mood. But on days you need to free your mind from the shackles of the mundane world, In C may hit that sacred spot. Michael Toland [buy it]

For fans of: Primordial Undermind, Steve Roach, John Cale-era Velvet Underground

MASON JENNINGS
Century Spring
(Architect)
If there's one primary appealing quality about Century Springs, Mason Jennings' third CD, it's probably honesty. The songs sound straightforward, clear and uncluttered, not overproduced. His voice, while capable enough, doesn't try to make up for what it lacks by affectation or imitation. And the songs are charmingly direct, lacking in ego and pretense. "And oh my God, when you cross your legs beside me/I know true love, don't love like anybody else" he sings on "Sorry Signs on Cash Machines." Give that line to Ted Nugent and you've got something like "Wango Tango," but out of Jennings' mouth it's almost piano poetry. "I believe if you fall in love/You should jump right in," he sings on "New York City" over chugging guitars. On "Dewey Dell" one can hear why Nick Drake comparisons follow Jennings around, as he sings five lines of a lover's comfort over acoustic guitars. "Adrian" is a similar sound, though it's far more pointed lyrically than Drake's material: "Looking down from the apple tree my hands tied in back of me/With this rope below my chin we don't fear death my Adrian." Jennings has a fine sense of how to work a turned phrase; he certainly writes some stream of consciousness rhymes that may mean different things to different people, but the effort doesn't come off as cheeky or unnecessarily ambitious. So Jennings comes across as the quiet guy whom you somehow know has the potential for something special. In this overproduced and overcaffeinated world, Jennings keeps it simple, and ends up being refreshingly likable. Brian Briscoe [buy it]

For fans of: Nick Drake, Varnaline, Ted Hawkins

LISA MEDNICK
Semaphore
(Texas Music Group)
As a session musician, Austin-based Lisa Mednick has lent her ivory-tickling and reed-puffing expertise to artists as varied as Alejandro Escovedo, Half Japanese, Ray Wylie Hubbard and the Chills. As an artist, though, she's the auteur of only one previous album, 1994's finely crafted Artifacts of Love. Eight years later, she's finally releasing her second opus, the even more carefully produced Semaphore. The songs move at a languid pace, unfolding in their own time. Mednick's melodies borrow from the Southwestern sources (Texas, Louisiana, the California desert) one might expect from her location, but she also exhibits a strain of tuneage that wouldn't sound out of place on your average album from British dreampop label 4AD. Her imagery ranges from impressionistic to journalistic, conveying stories of female empowerment and bad love in language that goes for the gut and the heart at the same time. The airy production lends the tracks plenty of sensual atmosphere without ever obscuring the melodies themselves. If there's a flaw to this album, it's that Mednick's cool, dry vocal style sometimes doesn't manufacture much passion. But that's a minor complaint on superior numbers like "Falling Off a Wheel," "Dancing in My Cell" and "Stranger." Mednick manages the difficult trick of carving a distinct sound out of familiar elements. Semaphore will make fast friends even as it stands out from the pack. Michael Toland [buy it]

For fans of: Lucinda Williams, Paula Cole, Beth Orton

JERRY PORTNOY
Down in the Mood Room
(TinyTown)
Jerry Portnoy, a harmonica man perhaps best known for his extended stint in Muddy Waters' band, explores his instrument's jazz capabilities on Down in the Mood Room. He's not attempting to be Sun Ra or Sonny Sharrock here; the material consists of standards and listener-friendly originals. But Portnoy does a fine job of working in the context, often utilizing the harp's saxophone-type timbre in horn section interplay, such as on the hepcat shuffle of Horace Silver's "Doodlin'." "Canadian Sunset" is a fine and melodic rumination, with rumbling toms. Some of the background harmonica sounds much like a guitar downstroke, which is amazing. "Stormy Weather" eases into the melody nicely, with brush snare backing and a bed of saxes. "Lazy" sways and swaggers, while Portnoy sings, "You might think I'm lazy, and that might well be true/But I'm just saving all of my strength to make good love to you." "Sentimental Journey" is given just a little randier treatment than the song deserves, though.

Producer Duke Robillard gets kudos for lending his jazz and jump blues expertise to Portnoy's muse. Down in the Mood Room isn't cutting edge material, and it's not meant to be, but it's an enjoyable listen. Brian Brisoce [buy it]

For fans of: Little Charlie and the Nightcats, Kim Wilson, James Cotton

THE SABIANS
Beauty for Ashes
(The Music Cartel)
Led by guitarist/vocalist Justin Marler, Oakland's Sabians (name courtesy a Mandean word for personal transformation) play epic heavy rock about suffering and redemption. Marler's formative experiences include co-founding stoner rock legend Sleep and spending seven years in a Russian Orthodox monastery, and he brings both to bear on the band's debut album Beauty for Ashes. Marler sings about death and rebirth, blood and souls, violence and peace, the corporeal and the eternal. He keeps his lyrics impressionistic enough to encourage wide interpretation, but still on a spiritual path. This isn't to say that Marler doesn't acknowledge that bad shit happens (see "Downcast," "Lull") but his message seems to be that while pain may be a serious condition, it's only a temporary one. The band gets his philosophy across with a combination of dynamic arrangements, droning vocals and hard rock hooks, with a strong strain of religious chant informing the yearning melodies. It's a sound fueled by emotional thrust as well as grunge; the heaviness has as much to do with spiritual weight as downtuned distortion. There's little here to which you can bang your head; instead it will soothe your soul. Michael Toland [buy it]

For fans of: Tool, Alice in Chains, Soundgarden

THE SHINERS
Bonnie Blue
(Planetary)
Singers Wes and Jyl Freed rose from the ashes of Virginia's Dirtball to form the Shiners, whose contributions to the soundtrack of the film The Thrillbillys were among that collection's highlights. The group's debut album Bonnie Blue presents a scruffy, loose amalgam of Appalachian folk music, country and Southern rock. Its mostly acoustic sound has a friendly back porch aura—it's as if the rowdier attendees of a mountain family reunion hit the banjos after the barbecue. Wes has a real feel for folk culture, penning tunes that sound like adaptations from traditional sources (never mind "Plowman's Song," which is Bob Dylan's "I Shall Be Released" with different lyrics), and his craggy singing suits the ditties perfectly. "Conjureman," "We Won't Break the Circle" and "The Bridge" have a timeless quality that bodes well for their durability. "Devil's X" and "Crow Holler" catch the spirit(s) of moonshine-fueled fun, while "The Rodeo Clown" turns the tables for a tale suffused with beautiful melancholy. It may take a couple of spins for listeners of a so-called sophisticated nature to appreciate the rough nature of the Shiners, but the hillbilly soul of Bonnie Blue will outshine any objections. Michael Toland [buy it]

For fans of: Split Lip Rayfield, Uncle Tupelo's March 16-20, 1992, the Boggs

VOLTAIRE
Boo Hoo
(Projekt)
Though best known for his animation work and his satirical comic book Oh My Goth!, Voltaire, the clown prince of the New York Goth scene, is also a songwriter of irreverent wit. After two collections in which he gleefully bit the hand that feeds him, now he turns his attention to that most universal of subjects: love. Ostensibly the chronicle of a painful break-up, Boo Hoo shoots happyface-adorned arrows at potential romance ("Future Ex Girlfriend"), lonely obsession ("#1 Fan") and righteous post-breakup anger ("See You in Hell," in which Voltaire sings "You put me through Hell" to a tune reminiscent of the Smiths). He also sucks the blood out of the Goth vampire scene in "Vampire Club," waxes rhapsodic about his favorite author in "Graveyard Picnic" and pays tribute to low-budget sci-fi films with "BRAINS!" As caustic as he can get with his barbs and one-liners, he's not being mean-spirited—he only makes fun of the things he loves. Besides, it's not all ironic humor and pisstaking—tunes like "I'm Sorry," "Let It Go" and "...About a Girl" get to the heart of the matter without verbal dismemberment. He's also left behind most of the gypsy and Celtic elements of previous records, luxuriating in straightforward acoustic pop arrangement that highlight his engaging voice and irresistible melodies. In fact, the instantly appealing sound is the biggest surprise on Boo Hoo, though it's far from the only pleasure. Michael Toland [buy it]

For fans of: the Peenbeets, Loudon Wainwright III, Morrissey

WONDERLICK
Wonderlick
(Future Farmer)
From the ashes of the late, lamented Too Much Joy comes Wonderlick, led by TMJ principals Tim Quirk and Jay Blumenthal. Consisting of songs the duo originally released as free downloads, Wonderlick finds Blumenthal and Quirk expanding their musical horizons beyond the brash power pop of their former outfit. Working with as many samplers and electronics as guitars, the pair builds the songs from the rhythm section up, using funkier beats, processed vocals and synthesized string beds to flesh out the tracks. The shuffling hip-hop of "Black Box" and disco dynamics of "The New Truth" would have been unimaginable in the TMJ days. Likewise, the duo has toned down the smartass wisecracking for a more serious tone. The sober atmosphere of "I Disappear," "I Wanna Love You" and "Chapel of Bones" suits the low-key hooks and moody production. For all the changes Blumenthal and Quirk have put their music through, though, they still hang on to melody, the defining characteristic of TMJ and now Wonderlick as well. Wonderlick isn't as immediately arresting as TMJ's best, but it has the potential to be more satisfying with time. Michael Toland [buy it]

For fans of: They Might Be Giants, Beck, Barenaked Ladies

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