Brandon's Buzz

Summer’s in full swing, and June’s final tipsheet brings another loaded slate of new releases, all of which come from artists we’ve come to love profusely over the years, and one of which will almost certainly — fairly or otherwise — stand among the 2007’s most important, most-watched albums. Sound like hopeless hyperbole? Keep reading.

KELLY WILLIS — Translated From Love — Let’s kick things off this week with a hearty welcome back to Austin heroine Willis, returning with only her second album since 1999, when lots o’ local folk anointed her a goddess in the wake of her euphoric eureka moment, the classy, blissfully adult What I Deserve. (Fail to forget ’99 was the same year that the Backstreet Boys had taken completely over, to the point that no less than Faith Hill was running around like a horny teenager to drum up interest in her album Breathe, one of the most spectacularly irrational steps backward in the history of popular music.) I turned to Sherry Ann, the biggest Willis fan in the Northern Hemisphere, to properly elucidate her devotion, because she’s much better versed on this particular topic than even I. Without hesitation, she responded as follows: “She is the only female country singer that sings country music, not watered down pop music with fiddles.” Take that, Natalie!

PAUL SIMON — The Essential Paul Simon — Last month, in a decision that completely befits his position as a true national treasure, Simon was chosen as the initial recipient of the Library of Congress’ Gershwin Prize for Popular Song, the tribute concert for which features a painfully pretty take on “The Boxer” by Shawn Colvin and Alison Krauss (future sureshots to receive this honor, mark it) and airs this week on PBS. In conjunction with this event, Warner Bros. releases a double-length, 36-track career retrospective showcasing the awesome breadth of his contributions to the modern American songbook, which, bundled together like this into one impressive collection, are not short of inspiring. In an interview with USA Today this week, Simon fretted over having to assemble and sequence this set in the era of Generation iPod (which will no doubt take these thirty-some songs and shuffle them like so many cards, completely missing the cohesive story that Simon has taken great pains to present with this offering), but that ultimately seems irrelevant. This collection’s true miracle is that, because it unfolds over two discs, Simon is afforded the rare chance to dig deep into his discography and unearth more than just the hits. The Essential stands as a self-portrait (and a remarkable one, at that), and while I have a typical quibble or two with some of its features (like, how ever did You’re the One’s “Hurricane Eye” get a nod over the much-stronger “That’s Where I Belong” or the bitingly sharp “Pigs, Sheep, and Wolves,” but more on that when we get to this week’s playlist), only a fool would argue with the musical power emanating from the whole.

(P.S. The Essential appears in two versions: the standard two-disc set, which is on sale this week at Target for the ridiculous price of $11.99; and a deluxe three-disc set, which includes a bonus DVD of music videos and live performances, including the classic (and hysterical) 1987 “Saturday Night Live” sketch “The Sweeney Sisters” that alone is worth the purchase price. The genuine look of horror on Simon’s face when Jan Hooks gets right in his face and belts out “Bridge Over Troubled Water” is nothing short of priceless.)

(P.P.S. Listening to this music this week and looking across the current landscape, I’ve been quite curious who among today’s male artists is going to be accepting Simon’s mantel in years to come. And since George Michael can’t seem to chuck the cannabis long enough to remove his head from his ass and get back to being the ferociously brilliant songwriter we all remember him to have been once upon a glorious time — sorry, babe, you know how much I love you, but “An Easier Affair” just ain’t gettin’ it — I guess now more than ever, it’s up to my beloved David Gray to come through for us and shine a flashlight upon all of our foibles and foolishness.)

SINEAD O’CONNOR — Theology — Am I the only one who remembers — and wistfully, to boot — when this crazy heifer was the most interesting figure in all of music? Them days is long gone, kids: O’Connor has spent the last few years flopping around like a confused catfish, trying so desperately hard to be provocative (“I’m a lesbian! No, wait! I’m denouncing God! Oops, scratch that!”), to the point that she has become exactly the opposite: disingenuous and, perhaps worse, boring. The new record is a two-disc set featuring exactly the same songs — one half recorded in Dublin with minimal accompaniment and production, the other recorded in London with a full band and all the orchestral trimmings — in what she terms in the liner notes as “an attempt to create a place of peace in a time of war.” No word yet on what O’Connor’s old fiercely combative self has to say about any of this, or where Pod Sinead is holding her captive, but those of us who continue to hold I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got close to our hearts are considering organizing a search party, and we can always use an extra pair of eyes if any of you are game. (Theology is on sale at Best Buy this week, and their version contains five bonus tracks.)

RYAN ADAMS — Easy Tiger — And speaking of artists whose inviolable brilliance and talent often render them as exasperating as they are inviting, here comes Adams, offering his ninth (!) studio album in seven years, and the most well-reviewed since his terrific 2001 breakthrough, Gold. I’ve yet to hear a note of this record other than its leadoff single, a duet with Sheryl Crow called “Two,” but here’s how I know we may well be in for a treat: that song is so good even my ruthless best friend Sherry — who, the last time we discussed Crow, described her as a “homewrecking whore” or some such similar pejorative (she wasn’t really feelin’ Crow’s since-ended relationship with Lance Armstrong, you see) — is on board. This is on sale at Best Buy, whose version comes with a bonus download.

MARC BROUSSARD — Save Our Soul — And that brings us to the CD I’ve been anticipating breathlessly for months now, and what would have been this week’s marquee release save for Kelly Clarkson’s unjustified displays of hubris (see below). Broussard, you’ll recall, bust through in 2005 with his feisty, searing major label debut, Carencro, and its miraculous first single, “Home,” and we’ve all been waiting with bated breath to see what his next move would be. Wait no more: he’s back this week with a covers record, a set of legendary R&B songs (Otis Redding’s “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long” and Marvin Gaye’s “Inner City Blues,” to name two) given fresh treatments. If this project sounds a little dubious on paper, just remember that this child — a 25-year-old white boy from the bayou whose confident, booming voice burns with the wisdom and truth of a man four times his senior — has already proven he knows his way around the back roads of classic soul. It could be fascinating. Circuit City’s got it for $8.98 this week, and their version comes with a bonus track.

KELLY CLARKSON — My December — So, how would you like to be this girl right about now? The eyes of the entire industry are trained upon her this week. After the runaway triumph that was her sophomore album Breakaway — which, with five top five hit singles, two Grammys won, and six million copies sold, was a close to a blockbuster as it gets in these anemic times — the pressure to keep the momentum rolling was immense straight out of the gate. Cracks emerged in the foundation almost as quickly: Kelly made it quite clear she intended to grow and evolve as an artist, and her record company — headed by the venerable, smart Clive Davis — wanted her to just be a singer. (Davis admitted as much on the eve of Clarkson’s Grammy victories in an interview with Time magazine, in which he also intimated that Taylor Dayne and Melissa Manchester would have had much longer careers had they, too, not insisted on having some songwriting input.) So, when it came time to craft the follow-up record, Clarkson announced she wanted to write and produce it herself.

Davis indulged her, but when she delivered the album back in January, he was reportedly underwhelmed. Clarkson’s songs had taken a darker, more rock-hued turn; the polished pop hooks that she had so deftly knocked out of the park were nowhere to be found. Davis kindly asked her to try again. Clarkson held her ground. Davis kindly offered her ten million dollars to replace five of her songs with tunes more along the lines of her megasmash “Since U Been Gone.” Clarkson again held her ground.

After word of their disagreement went public, Davis decided to throw the dice and release My December as is. But what seemed at the time to be a major victory for Clarkson has seemed to sour a bit in the meantime: December’s first single, near-satirically bitter “Never Again,” stiffed at radio; the enormous arena tour that Clarkson had planned for this summer was canceled after abysmal ticket sales; and Clarkson fired her manager, Jeff Kwatinetz, because, in light of all of the aforementioned turmoil, it became startlingly obvious that the poor guy is a really bad manager.

Worse, he allowed his client to create and stubbornly refuse to alter a really disjointed album. I’ve given it four solid listens, and though it’s not bad, exactly, it’s definitely unfocused, and lyrically, too morose to be believed. Turns out Davis was right when he said he didn’t hear any singles — there’s not a happy pop song within forty-seven fathoms. Of the record’s thirteen tracks, there are two — the somber second single “Sober” and the intriguing, stream-of-consciousness “Maybe” — that I’d care to hear again; most of the rest are instantly forgettable. Clarkson is clearly aiming for profound, but she scarcely makes it past ponderous. As Time’s David Browne puts it in his less-than-generous review, there’s a “thin line between hackwork and magic,” and Clarkson was moving so fast that she didn’t even recognize when she went hurtling straight past it. December certainly won’t be the megaflop that many are predicting, but without a viable presence at radio — which doesn’t seem remotely possible at this point — neither will it be the home run Clarkson’s counting on.

So, on to this week’s playlist. Six distinct, compelling voices make up the tipsheet, so let’s turn this task over to them and see what sweet nothings they whisper in our willing ears.

1. “Not Forgotten You” — Kelly Willis (from What I Deserve) — so, I’d wager Kim Richey and Patty Loveless might have a thing or two to say about Sherry’s “pop with fiddles” crack; regardless, take a listen to this — the best song from Willis’ best album — if you doubt the thrust of her statement. This is heartbreaking, straight-to-the-bone country.

2. “Rene and Georgette Magritte With Their Dog After the War” — Paul Simon (from Hearts and Bones) — as I wrote earlier, there are a couple of changes I’d make to the tracklist of Simon’s new best-of compilation, but the one glaring omission — especially considering three other songs from Hearts made the cut — is this haunting testimony to the power of having someone to return home to.

3. “Diamonds on the Soles of Their Shoes” — Paul Simon with Ladysmith Black Mambazo (from Graceland) — I watched them sing, watched them dance, watched them move with utter grace around that impossibly small “Saturday Night Live” stage all the way back in 1986. This was the song — in every possible way, a rich, unparalleled marvel — they performed that night, a night that gave me my first cognizant memory of Paul Simon.

4. “Three Babies” — Sinead O’Connor (from I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got) — seriously, I listen to this song and all I can think of is, “I want my Sinead back!”

5. “La Cienega Just Smiled” — Ryan Adams (from Gold) — anybody else as certain as I that they’d gnaw off either index finger to be able to write something this strong, this powerful? One of the most clever concepts for a song — ascribing human actions to an empty thoroughfare — and one of the most brilliant executions of same, that I can ever remember. What could have turned out goofy instead was transcendent. The good folks at “Felicity” loved it so much they closed two third season episodes with it.

6. “Rocksteady” — Marc Broussard (from Carencro) — the other day, A — who, when he asks silly questions like the following, proves himself continually to be as cute as a button — asked me if Broussard has any other good songs besides “Home.” (He knows that one well, most specifically because I sang it to him on our first date, and he’s going to murder me for revealing that tidbit, but c’est la vie.) Soak it in, A, and rest assured: this kid’s no one track wonder.

7. “Low” — Kelly Clarkson (from Thankful) — perhaps, looking back, the clues — the ones that indicated Clarkson wanted to be Patty Smyth all along — were always there. This one remains a stunner today, but four years ago, when we still weren’t quite sure how this whole “American Idol” thing was gonna pan out, it was nothing short of a coldcock.