Publish and maybe perish

A look at the latest round of local releases -- some we love, some we don't

by John O'Neill

Ho! Ho! Hooboy! Here we go again. Another dose of local music reviews just in time to spread a little holiday cheer or jeer, depending on what yours truly pulls out of his stocking. We love having stuff sent to us here at Phoenix HQ, so keep it coming. As for the results, it's a painstaking process of listening at least three times to a CD before rendering a thunderbolt of judgment. (Dear potentially offended bands -- while it took you 40 seconds to read my idiotic opinion, the sting will go away. On the other hand, you got to torture me for at least an hour and, in some cases, continue to haunt me in my sleep.) It's not easy being Scrooge.

Also, we've included a few key definitions to aid you in understanding the CD-reviewing process. We hope you find them helpful.

The Jericho Road: Kind of like the Mendoza Line for hitters in baseball. In music it's that arbitrary border that you don't want to flirt with. Example: "Band X's repetitive riffing and stale vocals brought them dangerously close to crossing the Jericho Road." If you do manage to skirt to the other side of "the Road," you'll end up in . . .

Trembleland: This term was coined in honor of the late, un-great Tremble, a band who released perhaps the Worst Local Album of All-Time with Deprived of Silence. It's so shocking that everyone should own it, as it may be someday rediscovered and achieve Shaggs-like infamy. Anyhow, you don't want your band to reside here.

A winterboy: Generally reserved for singer/songwriters and prog bands, as they have the greatest tendency to write self-indulgent, soft-headed mush. Example: "Frank Folkie sure did a winterboy with that New Age rant on acid rain. What the hell was he thinking?"

All right, we're ready to begin. All Christmas cards, notes of gratitude, payola, and letter bombs can be sent directly to the address listed at the bottom of page four.

Dan Hart -- Apocalypse Now and Then

(Stone Boat Music) 10-song CD

While the singer/songwriter ilk has a tendency to all sound the same, Java Hut fave Dan Hart actually pulls off what many can't. His songs are clever and topical; and, under the tongue-in-cheek lyrics are some really fine social observations.

Starting with "Tailfins," a not-so-nostalgic look back at the American Dream while growing up in the shadow of Vietnam (with a great nod to both Elvis and the Ronnettes stuck in the middle), Hart takes on technology, traffic, TV commercials, and, of course, love. What makes him better than the average troubadour is his words never weigh down the song, and he never pulls a winterboy. The songs always retain a crisp balance of well-thought truths and absolute absurdities. His folk also incorporates elements of sixties pop, country honky-tonk, and blues. Hart's voice has a range that recalls everyone from Tom Russell to Steve Martin's "ramblin' guy." All things considered, Apocalypse stands as one of '98's best local releases and holds its own compared to anything we've received from larger folk labels.

Fall City Kings -- King Size

(self-released) 10-song CD

From Framingham come the twisted ramblings of hipster Kevin Mack and his band the Fall City Kings. Incorporating the full-range of postwar blues, the Kings give it a proper sprinkling of Howlin' Wolf-style rawness that gives every song a down and dirty, primal vibe -- it's a soundtrack for dance-floor dry-humping. Mack's vocals are beautifully limited and wholly original, as are his compositions. While you can hear the influence of Willie Dixon, Mississippi Fred McDowell, Muddy Waters, and Bo Diddley, Mack's songs have an updated feeling that also adds bastardized versions of early R&B, boogie woogie, and soul-funk. King Size is a super-fun listen that carries on the blues tradition, while also giving it a solid kick in the fanny.

Jericho Road -- Running for Cover

(Firedog Sound) 12-song CD

Yep, as in "don't cross the Jericho Road." This Marlborough-based quartet are part of the new bluegrass movement that seeks to expand the boundaries of the genre by adding variations like flute, piano, percussion, electric guitar, and a more eclectic style of songwriting. Which isn't a horrible idea. Salamander Crossing, for instance, are an example of a band who have been able to do this successfully. Jericho Road aren't. Less the bluegrass/folk amalgam they claim to be, JR are more like Jimmy Buffet and Country Joe and the Fish meet your average white (wedding) band. All aboard, next stop Trembleland.

Maybe it's the writing of Jay Towne, which, while the instrumentation is pretty good, the lyrics are usually horrid. Add to that the fact that he probably shouldn't be singing -- his phrasing is stiffer and more by the numbers than that Brady Bunch episode where the kids go on that talent show to win money for Mike and Carol's silver anniversary platter. Both "Walk Away Run," and "Take Me Back" are incredibly wooden, and the best song on the album, "Straighten Up and Fly Right," was done by the Nat King Cole Trio.

On the plus side, Tracie Downey has a pretty nice set of pipes, Charlie Downey's banjo and mandolin playing is top notch, and Towne does redeem himself slightly on "Running for Cover;" the sanitized production can be blamed for draining out any sense of heart or soul.

They also end with a six-minute version of "Up on Cripple Creek," which pretty-much says it all. Run for cover, indeed.

Boy's Attic -- Illusion of Hands

(self-released) 12-song CD

Remember the Big '80s? Boy's Attic sure do! These relative newcomers have been spending the better part of the past year playing anywhere and everywhere, organizing a fan base and working hard at chasing the dream. Now they give the world Illusion of Hands, an album with songs that recall things you thought you forgot about long ago.

Illusion may not be the music-altering album the band had initially set out to make six months ago, but it is a solid representation of what the band are all about. Well-sung harmonies, proto-metal guitar solos, fist-pumping pop anthems, and bubble-gum ballads stolen from the Richard Marx songbook. If you listen real close you'll hear Bon Jovi, John Parr, Golden Earring, Eric Clapton, George Thorogood, and even a little LA Guns. It's a diverse mix of influences that goes into the Boy's Attic stew. The result is an album full of relatively tasty bits that won't fill you up or give you a headache. It's light, it's fun, and it's honest. Three things the world could use a little more of.

Gangsta Bitch Barbie -- This Is Not a Test

(Choosy Mom) Eight-song CD

Call it rap-core, call it half-assed metal, call it what you will, Gangsta Bitch Barbie still turn out one of the better examples of the genre with their sophomore release, This Is Not a Test. It sports big power riffing, bigger drums, and rhymes that are both smart and funny. Best of all, the vocals are actually delivered in a style that suggests that though the singer may suffer from a hernia at least he still enunciates. And that's worth major points. "Godzilla" is a number the Beastie Boys wish they could have written; and "Kingpin," the ubiquitous overcoming-adversity piece, is actually more clever than the majority of the crap that's being written by GBB's contemporaries. In a style of music that champions redundant cheese, these cats are actually worth a listen.

Joe Rockhead -- Sheltering Sky

(Rainyside Records) 14-song CD

A major step forward by Worcester's answer to Hootie. Outstanding production, well-constructed melodies, great harmonies, and easy-listening mid-tempo numbers that roll along nicely in a roots-flavored way. These guys would be perfect background music to shop to. But you wonder if Tom Hurley struggles a little too hard to make things fit together (day/way, replaced/waste, youth/truth, neck/wreck . . . you get the idea). And while he may be shooting for a Michael Stipe kind of nebulousness, songs sometimes come across more like they're from the Eddie Money school of lyric writing. Still, a real solid effort that should be a stepping stone to even better things.