Brandon's Buzz

It’s a huge week out there in music land, as the favorite artists of both myself and Sherry Ann come up to bat with highly anticipated new efforts. Only time will tell if they are worth the wait, but the early returns are certainly encouraging. Take a gander:

Since she is without question the planet’s foremost Kate Voegele authority, I asked the magnificent Sherry Ann to compose some text regarding this week’s release of A Fine Mess, Voegele’s sophomore album. What follows is her response in its entirety: “Stay out of it,
Nick Lachey!” Six words that made me laugh so hard that I nearly fell off the couch while watching “One Tree Hill” two weeks ago. While no one else in the room with me at the time found those words particularly funny, I was vindicated when
“The Soup” picked up on the scene and has been showing it non-stop. These words were spoken by Mia Catalano, also known as Kate Voegele, whose sophomore album, A Fine Mess, drops this week. Voegele uses her onscreen alter ego to debut her music to the loyal Tree Hill brethren each week in the hopes that we will run right over to iTunes after the show and buy it, which I do every time. I have purchased five of the singles from this album on iTunes in the months leading up to its release, and I fully intend to march into the local record store and buy the album on Tuesday. The standout track for me is “Angels,” which does have a Vanessa Carlton-type of quality to it (but hey, I am a sucker for any chick that can play the piano). Another great track is “Manhattan from the Sky” — another piano pop song that has a catchy chorus — which was inspired by the way the city looks from cruising altitude. Bottom line on this album is that “One Tree Hill’s” head honcho Mark Schwahn has personally given his stamp of approval to 5 of the 12 songs on this album. What else do you need to hear? Buy it! (Editor’s note: First, aren’t all of her songs of the piano-based pop variety; and second, couldn’t have said it better myself.)

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The good news: Tori Amos, Mandy Moore, Eminem, and Sherry Ann’s beloved Mat Kearney are all due with new music this month, and the debut season of that all-time television classic “Designing Women” finally arrives on DVD. The bad news: none of that happens this week. Once again, the pickins are pretty slim. But dig in:

Creatively, they have concocted some of the most satisfying rock music of the past fifteen years, but commercially, they’ve spent that very amount of time chasing, to varying degrees of success, the same kind of instant victory they achieved with their debut single, 1995’s deliberately infectious smash “Good.” And this week, one of the great underrated bands, New Orleans-based rockers Better Than Ezra, returns after a four year hiatus with their sixth full-length album, Paper Empire. Their last effort — 2005’s terrific Before the Robots — spun out the surprise (and stunningly moving) radio hit “A Lifetime,” and lead singer Kevin Griffin still owns one of the most spine-tingling voices going. My hopes are high.

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Not much going on this week, but the good stuff is really good. Take a look:

Nothing new has been added to it, which is a shame, since this would have been one instance in which a deluxe-ified reissue would have been entirely appropriate: Blue Roses from the Moons, the riveting 1997 masterwork from the legendary Nanci Griffith, returns to print this week with a gorgeous, crisply remastered edition, and it’s well worth the effort it’ll probably take to seek this out. Anchored by a haunting update of her classic “Gulf Coast Highway” (done this time around as a stunning duet with Hootie and the Blowfish’s Darius Rucker, just the perfect pinch of smooth soul to complement Griffith’s informal folk), Roses also includes a hilarious cover of “I Fought the Law” as well as several tunes — in particular, “Waiting for Love” and “Two for the Road” — which have become integral staples in the Griffith songbook.
Buy this at once.

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Sorry for the late (and rather truncated) record store report this week; the upshot of it is, there’s not a hell of a lot to get excited about this time at bat, particularly if the idea of a new Bob Dylan album doesn’t exactly set you alight. Take a look:

• Her smoky debut Worrisome Heart raised more than a few eyebrows last year; now comes gorgeous chanteuse Melody Gardot‘s chance to capitalize on the buzz with her second disc, My One and Only Thrill.

 

• His given name is Dan Keyes, his stage name is Young Love, and his sophomore effort is One of Us.

 

• Second records would seem to be this week’s overriding theme: indie pop heroes Great Northern follow up their thrilling 2007 debut with the brand new Remind Me Where the Light Is, and rising country star Jason Michael Carroll, who landed a surprise smash a couple of years back with the heartrending child abuse anthem “Alyssa Lies,” returns with Growing Up is Getting Old.

 

• A smash called “Love, Me” made him a Midas-touch superstar in Nashville throughout the ’90s, the crunchy establishment inexplicably turned its back on the supremely talented Collin Raye at the turn of the century, but he resurfaces this week with Never Going Back, his first studio record in three years.

 

• Australian pop star Ben Lee is up with his seventh record,
  The Rebirth of Venus.

 

• The Concerts, a three-DVD set of classic live performances from the inimitable Barbra Streisand.

 

• So, if that new Bob Dylan record does put your liver aquiver, it’s called Together Through Life.

Another relatively slow one out there this week, kids, but I reckon you’ll find a couple of can’t-miss gems in somewhere along the new release wall. To wit:

And now, a true story. (I think I’ve told a variation on this one before — too lazy to actually look — but it remains painfully relevant, so deal. I’ll try to keep it short.) Get the picture: 1990, junior high school gymnasium, eighth grade graduation dance. My first girlfriend Erin — yes, yes, this is a story from back in the days when I was straight as an arrow (and Erin, if you’re somehow reading these words, I’m so very sorry, but all I can tell you is, I’m feeling strangely expansive this morning) — have just taken a walk (in the school parking lot, natch!) and held hands for the first time, and all seems right with the world. For reasons I can’t now remember, she and I have gone our separate ways for a few minutes, she with her friends and me with mine — how very “Saved By the Bell,” agreed? — when, all of a sudden, OUR song begins booming through the speakers. (I call it “our song” because it was the radio hit that spring — nothing else even compared! — and because she and I both worshipped the tune, and because my first gift to her was this very song’s lyrics, painstakingly calligraphed by me onto a gorgeous piece of gold parchment paper which I had previously pilfered from Midge Lemley’s art class. (At our tenth high school reunion a few years back, Erin told me she still has those lyrics. And don’t feel too bad for ol’ Midge: she had demolished the one and only oil painting I produced in class that year by pouring black ink all fucking over it several months prior, so that crazy heifer owed me one.))

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Call it the Easter hangover: after a few action-packed weeks, it’s awfully slow out there in your local record store this Tuesday. Consider it a blessing, because if you’re like me, there’s a huge stack of CDs near your stereo awaiting your attention, and you’ll have plenty of time this week to attack it.

Their much-buzzed-about 2007 debut Carnavas produced the rock radio smash “Lazy Eye,” but I must confess that, heretofore, the moody, grungy work of Silversun Pickups has only succeeded in going right over my head. (Listening to Nikki Monninger’s affected vocals on that album, all I found myself thinking was, “Hole and Veruca Salt really did this kind of stuff much, much better in the ’90s.”) The Pickups take a second stab at winning me over this week with their sophomore effort Swoon, which is led by the frenetic first single “Panic Switch,” which is kinda fun for the first sixty seconds or so but quickly devolves into a sad, pallid facsimile of Machina-era Smashing Pumpkins (which itself was a sad, pallid facsimile of Siamese Dream-era Smashing Pumpkins).

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The Clay Aiken brouhaha which erupted around last week’s record store report led to this blog’s most-viewed week in its nearly one-year history, and I certainly hope all you vehement Claymates liked what you saw and will stick around a spell. And to the handful of posters (jmh123, in particular) at the Finding Clay Aiken fan forum (from which the majority of my site’s hits emanated last week) who questioned why I called Mr. Aiken’s 2006 covers album, A Thousand Different Ways, baffling, and who wondered whether or not I have actually even listened to same, I very much wanted to respond on your site and even signed up for a username and account, but wasn’t approved by your administrators, so I’ll respond here: I called the album “baffling” because a covers record is not exactly the most savvy career move for a young artist who is getting ready to make only his second career album — it’s bad enough when legacy artists like Rod Stewart and Barry Manilow get pigeonholed into it — and, furthermore, the world doesn’t really need remakes of Bryan Adams’ “Everything I Do” or Paul Young’s “Everytime You Go Away” (which offended Sherry Ann — world’s biggest Paul Young fan, that one — all the way down to the marrow of her bones) or Elton John’s “Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word,” as those songs were indelibly performed the first time around, and Clay’s arrangements of those tunes weren’t markedly different from the originals. (And yes, I’m absolutely aware that the album wasn’t Clay’s idea or concept, so please don’t attack me with that news flash, but why even bother if you’re not going to bring something new to the song you’re covering?!) Nonetheless, I assure you, I have listened to Ways, multiple times, and I found a handful of its tracks — most notably his Pure Moods-esque take on Mr. Mister’s “Broken Wings” (done as a fascinating collaboration with poet Erin Taylor); his sped-up reworking of Richard Marx’s all-time classic “Right Here Waiting” (although I continue to wish that either Clay or his producer would have had the balls to insist on going for that full-throated high note at the song’s climax instead of playing it safe, since it’s clear that Clay is more than capable of pulling off those vocal acrobatics); or his blistering cover of Foreigner’s landmark “I Want to Know What Love Is” (which I mentioned loving in last week’s post) — to be breathtaking in their sheer audacity and joie, and ultimately, I believe Clay did the very best he could with what was, at its core, a phenomenally bad idea.

But enough of that: with bigger and better fish to fry, I now present to you this week’s records:

Another best-of set of sorts, and this one from one of the most quirky and unique performers in the business, the lovely Miss Cassandra Wilson, who has cherry-picked a handful of older pop favorites that she has “interpreted” on her seven studio albums and has assembled them on Closer to You: The Pop Side. Among the gorgeous chestnuts included here: a cover of The Monkees’ “Last Train to Clarksville” that you gotta hear to believe, as well as a ferocious take on The Band’s classic “The Weight,” a plainly tender reading of Sting’s “Fragile,” and what is perhaps the most deliriously engrossing and emotionally raw take on Cyndi Lauper’s legendary “Time After Time” that I’ve ever heard. (I know, I know, once you’ve heard the incomparable Patti LaBelle sing those extraordinary lyrics, it’s real hard for any other version to hold a candle, but if Wilson’s sultry vibe doesn’t give you a shiver or two, do move your ears a soupcon closer to the speakers.)

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I’m still positively reeling over CBS’ announcement today that they are yanking “Guiding Light” off the air after 72 continuous years, and I’ll have my thoughts on that news just as soon as I’ve fully gathered them. In the meantime, there’s another full slate of new releases to close out the month of March in high style, kids. Waste no time digging in:

I’m not sure whose ridiculous idea this was: that fabulous trumpeter extraordinaire Chris Botti schedules a two-night stand last fall at the world-famous Boston Symphony Hall, invites a who’s-who of his all-star pals — among them Sting, Josh Groban, and Aerosmith’s fearless leader Steven Tyler — to play along, and fails to include his gorgeous muse Paula Cole, with whom he has created so much terrific, passionately brilliant music over the past four years? (Worse yet, he invites that pitiful fourth-rate “American Idol” runner-up Katharine McPhee to take her place! Is he kidding me with this?!) I’m trying to hard not to pass judgment on Live in Boston before I’ve even heard a note of it, but what an unspeakable outrage is the setlist of this concert recording on the face of it! Color me physically offended by this blatant foolishness!

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Of all the ridonk, useless “deluxe editions” to which we’ve been subjected of late, this relatively busy week brings one whose original album — a genuine modern classic — actually merits the upgrade. Read on:

 

Obviously emboldened by the brilliantly triumphant ’80s mix they assembled last spring, the folks at Now That’s What I Call Music! have trudged forth with a series of similarly themed compilations, and while subsequent editions (covering, among other genres, the best of country, classic rock, and Motown) have wholly failed to be as uniformly riveting as the ’80s set was, this week brings a fairly worthy successor, as Now That’s What I Call Power Ballads! lands in record stores. A sterling mix of evergreen chestnuts (Journey’s “Faithfully,” Night Ranger’s “Sister Christian,” Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing,” Tesla’s “Love Song”) and forgotten favorites (Sheriff’s “When I’m With You” and Queensryche’s “Silent Lucidity,” a pair of tunes that haven’t crossed my mind in, literally, decades!), the only flaw that bars Ballads from reaching the same level as its vaunted ancestor is the complete and shameful absence of REO Speedwagon and Foreigner, a pair of pioneers who absolutely helped create the power ballad movement, and who could have easily been swapped out for subpar tracks by The Scorpions and Slaughter, neither of which deserves the coveted real estate (sandwiched in between Survivor’s heart-rending “The Search is Over” and Extreme’s smash throwback “More Than Words”) they have been inexplicably handed on this album. Also out this week: installment number 30 in the original Now! series, which passes muster with terrific radio hits from Lady GaGa, Britney Spears, Jason Mraz, Nickelback, and All-American Rejects.

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All apologies for the tardiness of this week’s record store report: my day job schedule for the remainder of this month is jus’ crazy, so let me apologize for the spotty posting which will surely result from my need to earn a living. Thankfully, the pickins are mighty slim this week, which gives you a perfect chance to revisit last week and catch up on anything you might have missed in that jam-packed madness. (If you need a clue for where to turn first, let me just scoop my forthcoming review of Kelly Clarkson’s latest album by saying simply this: I’m thinking of a word; the word is dynamite.)

Do I already proudly own every last track — Counting Crows’ untouchable 1994 classic “Round Here,” Hole’s 1999 stomper “Malibu,” or 3 Doors Down’s elegant 2002 heartbreaker “Be Like That” (which featured a true star-making vocal performance from Brad Arnold), or Oasis’ 1996 gem “Don’t Look Back in Anger” (which unfortunately was overshadowed by the behemoths — “Wonderwall” and “Champagne Supernova” — that preceded it on the radio) that deserves its placement on Buzz Ballads 2? Damn straight I do. Is that going to prevent me from shelling out the ten or so bucks required to purchase this album, which manages to wrangle all the aforementioned tuneage (and so much more untold brilliance!) onto one shining, beautiful, eminently listenable disc? The hell you say!

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After sleepwalking through the past several weeks, we’ve finally got a release slate we can really sink our teeth into. While we wait to see what gifts this week’s lineup of music has in store for us, allow me to throw out this question for discussion: am I the only one who thinks the new U2 record is mind-numbingly inane and dull? What the hell was Rolling Stone thinking giving that ridiculousness a five-star review?! (I would take a stab at tackling that second one, but I’m afraid I already know the answer and it would just be way too depressing to see it in cold print.)

After Eric Clapton (whose incredible, stripped-down versions of “Layla” and the devastating “Tears in Heaven” notched their album sales of ten million-plus and won their performer a wagonful of Grammys) and Mariah Carey (whose impromptu cover of The Jackson 5’s “I’ll Be There” became a radio supersmash) showed the network what a commercial goldmine it had on its hands in the early ’90s, a spare and intimate appearance on “MTV Unplugged” suddenly became a mandatory promotional tool — within a pair of years, Neil Young, Nirvana, 10,000 Maniacs, and Melissa Etheridge all had turned in landmark performances — and for many, a nifty li’l comeback vehicle. Take the case of Rod Stewart, who reunited with his former Faces partner Ronnie Wood for an acoustic set and unwittingly hurled his career back into orbit. Thanks to a startlingly fine cover of Van Morrison’s “Have I Told You Lately,” upon which — to the surprise of more than a few — top 40 radio immediately leapt, the resulting live album, entitled Unplugged… and Seated, went on to move more than three million units stateside and produced two additional hit singles (a reworked version of his early classic “Reason to Believe” and a raucous cover of Sam Cooke’s “Having a Party”). Unplugged returns this week in a special expanded edition which contains two bonus tracks — including a radically reinvented take on his 1989 smash “Forever Young” — as well as the original television broadcast, which finally makes a belated debut on DVD. And trust your Uncle Brandon, here if nowhere else: if only for Stewart’s priceless rendition — which can now be enjoyed aurally and visually, natch! — of Tom Waits’ unspeakably magnificent “Tom Traubert’s Blues (Waltzing Matilda),” this is worth the purchase price. (And memo to MTV, Natalie, and/or whomever else may be in charge of this: I’m still waiting for the aforementioned 10,000 Maniacs episode from 1993 — the recording of which would damn straight be one of my five desert island discs — to make its way to DVD, and am willing to do whatever is necessary — up to and including pleading right here on the Buzz — to facilitate the correction of that foolishness.)

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Not much going on out there this week, except the biggest band in the free world returns from a five-year hiatus. Yippee-ky-yay, kids.

Remixes of recent smashes from Britney Spears (the thrilling “Womanizer”), David Archuleta (the hilariously addictive “Crush”), Pink (“So What” if it’s brilliant fun?), Coldplay (“Viva La Vida,” 2008’s song of the year, if you take the Grammys’ word for things), and the infinitely irritating Katy Perry (“Hot & Cold,” a song that makes A smile broadly urry time it pops up on the radio, which is unspeakably often) highlight the latest collection from Thrive Records, Total Dance 2009.

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A comeback seven years in the making toplines this week’s new music releases, and when you see who is helping the artist in question make said comeback, methinks you’ll agree with me that it was certainly worth the interminable wait. Read on:

Shine, her tenth studio album, arrives in stores in late March, and in the runup to that event, modern country legend Martina McBride is reissuing her first three studio records in a brand new, ridiculously affordable — the list price is under ten bucks! — three-disc package. Even though it contains what remains one of her very best songs, a deeply affecting heartbreaker called “That’s Me,” 1992’s The Time Has Come is a first record through and through, loaded to the gills with middling material and non-modulated singing. The Way That I Am, released the following year, revealed traces of the artist that McBride was destined to become (particularly on the sassy smash “My Baby Loves Me,” the song that gives the album its title, and “Independence Day,” the controversial anthem about spousal abuse which landed its performer on the front page of every newspaper when it became a touchstone in the wake of Nicole Brown Simpson’s murder), but it wouldn’t be until 1995’s breakthrough triumph Wild Angels and its six (!) massive radio hits (including the magnificent “Phones Are Ringin’ All Over Town,” another of my all-time McBride favorites) that she would truly hit her stride. If you missed any of this back in the day, you’ll find no more attractive opportunity to play catch up and correct that foolishness.

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