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Boston Phoenix CD Reviews
AUGUST 7, 2000:
*1/2 Sneakster PSEUDO-NOUVEAU (Bella Union)
Quique, the debut
full-length by the British noise-guitar band Seefeel, provided an aural glimpse
of what My Bloody Valentine's long-awaited next album might sound like: waves
of voluptuous six-string drone atop incantatory rhythms and mystic whispers.
But having updated blisspop for the nascent techno era, Seefeel guru Mark
Clifford then withdrew the band into a minimal-electronica territory of
dislocated beats and disembodied vocals. Now, after pursuing his arrhythmic
isolationism under the alias Disjecta, he makes an awkward return to the pop
landscape with Sneakster.
Like Seefeel, Sneakster boast female vocals that bear considerable resemblance
to the Cocteau Twins template -- and indeed, Pseudo-Nouveau is released
on Bella Union, the label managed by Twin instrumentalists Robin Guthrie and
Simon Raymonde. But those who were entranced by Clifford's once-innovative
guitarrorism will be disappointed to discover that Sneakster are practically ax
free. The music is largely fizzled beats, sultry vocals, and keyboard
meanderings; "Static" is powered by a loop of a synthetic flute. The real irony
is that Pseudo Nouveau sounds like a pale imitation of the edgier
techno-pop of Scala, the outfit formed by Clifford's ex-Seefeel compadres. -- Patrick Bryant
***1/2 Ignite A PLACE CALLED HOME (TVT)
"I care about hardcore/But I
hate the scene," sings Ignite frontman Zoli Teglas on "Who Sold Out Now?", the
petulant first song off the Orange County band's first full-length album since
1995. Sick of being judged by kids who aren't in it for the long haul -- in the
song, his teenage antagonist ends up leaving the scene to get "freaked out on X
at some rave or techno" -- Teglas is echoing the sentiments of many a veteran
punk. Ignite have committed the ultimate punk crime by leaving esteemed SoCal
indie label Revelation for TVT, but A Place Called Home is the rare
hardcore album that's catchy and thoughtful enough to have a shot at reaching a
larger audience.
With its tight vocal harmonies and angry lyrics about domestic violence, "Run"
is emblematic of the band's Bad Religion-inspired approach. They end up
sounding more like the Scorpions on slower tunes like the title track, a
long-distance love song that thumps along on guitarist Brian Balchack's
near-metal riffs. Ignite play hardcore with kid-friendly tempos, grown-up
themes, and, in the operatic Teglas, a commanding vocal presence that bridges
the generation gap. -- Sean Richardson
**1/2 Busta Rhymes ANARCHY (Elektra)
Soft-drink shucking movie star
and former Leader of the New School, Busta Rhymes is still a man possessed as
he delivers his chaotic hooks and tongue-flipping rhymes in a weed-riddled
baritone. Yet his newest joint doesn't exude the fire of "Woo-Hah!" and earlier
power hitters. And with crews crawling out of every hip-hop crevice, Busta
needs to push himself more than he did on his last solo effort or on the debut
by his Flipmode Squad cohort (though "Cha Cha Cha" was some feel-good shit).
Still, there are plenty of bright spots on the long-winded Anarchy.
Busta and new Flipmode soldier Roc Marciano keep up with Raekwon and Ghostface
Killah on "The Heist," an exercise in classic Cuban Linx-era criminology that's
worth the 15 bucks alone. Current kings of the game Jay-Z and DMX bring nothing
new to "Why We Die," which is tailor-made for heavy TRL rotation. But
all is forgiven when M.O.P jump in on "Ready for War," and "Here We Go Again"
could easily be yet another Busta classic. -- Chris Conti
*** Issi Rozen HOMELAND BLUES (Brownstone)
First there's guitarist
Rozen's limpid tone, which seems at one with his articulation: the way he gets
from note to note. Then there's the kind of self-generating improvised lines
that have been the hallmark of all superb jazz players, from Armstrong and
Reinhardt to Rollins and Metheny. Rozen's material, and his band, are with him
every step of the way. That's why a Coltrane-inspired standard like Hammerstein
& Romberg's "Softly, as in a Morning Sunrise" is as fresh as a daisy, chock
full of rhythmic excitement.
On this, his second Brownstone CD, Tel Aviv-Brookline transplant Rozen moves
more in the direction of combining musical elements from home with "world" jazz
forms. Traditional melodies like "Shir Hanoded" get American jazz's harmonic
reach. Rozen creates similarly inventive fusions in originals like
"Mediterranean Samba" and "Late Night Waltz," and in the rhythmic complexities
of the title track, where drummer Harvey Wirht's triplets drive the theme. It's
a good deal: Rozen and fellow Israeli pianist Gilad Barkan indulge their
nostalgia, and everybody in the band, including Wirht and bassist Dave
Smallwood has, as Steve Lacy calls jazz pieces, "something to dig on." -- Jon Garelick
*** Green Velvet S/T (F-111)
Sporting a day-glo yellow-feather mohawk and a
chest-baring Blade Runner-esque fashion sense, Green Velvet (the alter
ego of Chicago producer Curtis A. Jones) brings some much needed personality
and star power to the world of knob twiddlers and vinyl jockeys. But it's not
only Green Velvet's sartorial style that sets him apart, it's his bizarre
music. In a series of dry-voiced monologues, Velvet spins sordid tales of
nightclub hedonism, alien abduction, and illicit behavior, backed by trippy and
spastic robo-funk that is all analog squelch and acid phreak. Dredging us
through a series of disturbed mental states -- paranoia, isolation, and
depression -- Green Velvet would be an unbearable listen if it weren't
so damn funny. Schadenfreude powers the humor of "Answering Machine," where
voice-mail messages inform Velvet that "the baby isn't yours," "you're being
evicted," and "your life is over!" "Flash" is a candy-raver's nightmare, as
Velvet leads a camera-toting PTA group on a tour of "Club Bad," uncovering
joint smoking and nitrous inhaling as they go. The emotional effect is similar
to the confessional description of alien probing on Alien Abduction: "It
wasn't like it was painful or pleasurable, it was like the two of them." -- Michael Endelman
*** Knife in the Water RED RIVER (Overcoat)
Knife in the Water may be
named for an early Roman Polanski film, but Red River sounds more like
the soundtrack to a Texas film noir than anything to do with the Howard Hawks
classic. Guitarist Aaron Blount and organist Laura Krause sing of treachery,
loss, and reflection, with sultry washes of pedal steel guitar from Bill
McCullough framing the bleak emotions of these alterna-country gems. The
stories range from "Rene," the tale of a hardboiled dame, to the acoustic
rocker "Young Blood in the River," which sketches a transvestite prostitute's
grim end. There's a distinct irony in the beauty that envelops the speed-addled
characters and scorched scenery, and the graceful and steady pull of the music
belies the down-and-out details that gather on the surface of each track. KITW
have made huge strides in songwriting since their first (and hard to locate)
self-released CD; Red River confirms them as knowing interpreters of the
waltzy brand of country music that flourishes in Texas. -- Lois Maffeo
*** Snake River Conspiracy SONIC JIHAD (Kinetic/Reprise)
Snake River
Conspiracy invite all kinds of comparisons -- Atari Teenage Riot crossed with
Bis, Gwen Stefani singing early Nine Inch Nails, Garbage produced by Tool's
Maynard James Keenan. But nothing quite hits the mark. Frontwoman Tobey Torres
and former Third Eye Blinder Jason Slater have found the formula for bubblegum
industrial that's as catchy as it is harsh. An unfortunate Smiths cover ("How
Soon Is Now?") is balanced by the Cure's "Love Song," which SRC infuse with
cute ambulance sirens and heart-monitor bleeps. The single "Vulcan" is the
logical answer to "Love Song," with its illogical anger ("Fuck you! You fucking
faggot!") and searing synths worthy of Asian Dub Foundation (not to mention the
sampled Star-Trek-by-way-of-KRS-One "bling"). Gossipy types should note
that "Somebody Hates You" is an anti-ode to Third Eye Blind singer Stephan
Jenkins, with what Slater has deemed a "fruity" bridge that actually just
sounds creepy as it bobs in the crushing keyboards and Torres's wails. Although
Slater concocts the lyrics, Torres spews them like Alanis Morissette singing
about blow jobs. But Morissette (or Trent Reznor, for that matter) has never
spewed quite like this. -- Nick Catucci
*** Arab Strap A PLACE CALLED HOME (Jetset)
**1/2 Arab Strap MAD FOR SADNESS (Jetset)
That shimmer on Elephant
Shoe is the sound of singer Aidan Moffatt finding love. The good news is,
he doesn't know what to do with it, so confusion and ambiguity continue to
reign in his heart, providing ample inspiration for his melancholy muse. With
help from fellow troubadour and guitarist Malcolm Middleton, members of Mogwai
and Belle & Sebastian, and a drum machine, Moffatt celebrates romantic
sulking -- beautifully so on "Hello Daylight." Although the CD is more solidly
textured and less bleak than previous Arab Strap albums, it's still a
collection of dirges for love hangovers, commanding all the despondency of,
say, the most melancholic Dirty Three or Tindersticks tracks, with Moffatt's
labored mumble adding to the resignation.
The aptly titled Mad for Sadness is another field trip to the Scottish
group's cemetery of botched opportunities and broken dreams. Recorded in London
in 1998 as a limited-edition disc and considered a "classic" live set by Strap
fans, it's finally available in the US. Despite the distraction of an
out-of-tune guitar, the album's echoing melodies air out some of the DIY
claustrophobia that choked these tracks on the band's first two albums. And
Moffatt, executing elegant exercises in self-pity, proves he can find misery in
just about any situation. -- Tristram Lozaw

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