The Days of Lore

Rhett Miller: An Old 97 starts anew

Wednesday, August 19th, 2009 | musiX | No Comments

Those in the know know that I love the Old 97’s—however I’ve never been the biggest fan of vocalist Rhett Miller’s solo work. As I’ve said before Miller needs his bandmates as much as they need him. Obviously the Old 97’s wouldn’t be the same band without his vocals and sardonic wordplay. Likewise, when Miller ventures out on his own—as he has on three records (four if you count his pre-97’s release Mythologies)—he loses some of that twang and grit. Yes, the point is to not sound like the Old 97’s, BUT (there’s always a but) Rhett Miller shouldn’t be making records that sound so … how can I put this—VH1-y.

On his latest solo outing Miller teamed up with Salim Nourallah, who produced (kooky use of apostrophes alert!) the Old 97’s’ Blame It On Gravity album. A good thing. Bells and whistles have been scrapped for warmer, hazier production. It’s not only his best solo record, it’s his most varied. Of course, Miller’s proclivity for Brit-pop is all over songs like “If It’s Not Love” and “Caroline.” But “Happy Birthday Don’t Die” is a sci-fi tale that is sonically the weirdest and most unhinged song he’s ever written, while “Another Girlfriend” finds familiar ground in his band’s outlaw-country leanings. But it’s little things like well-placed hand claps (those in the know also know I’m a sucker for hand claps) along with sweet and understated harmonies, organ and tambourine that make Miller’s pop songs … well, pop.

More important (to me, anyway) is the fact—with the exception of “I Need To Know Where I Stand”—there’s no chance of Miller sidling up to Rob Thomas and Daughtry on some silly countdown. PLUS (there’s always a plus) with this record there seems to be less of a push to showcase that angelic face of his. Although it is angelic, isn’t it?

“Caroline” - Rhett Miller

“Happy Birthday Don’t Die” - Rhett Miller

Tags: Old 97's, Rhett Miller, Salim Nourallah

Going back to Cali

Tuesday, April 28th, 2009 | musiX, pdX | 6 Comments

Five straight days. I haven’t been away from a computer that long in, let’s see … hmm … carry the two … 1,943 days. After traveling almost as many miles to sunny (and windy) California I have returned, exhausted but unscathed.

Packing for such a journey typically consists of five minutes of stuffing clothes into a bag and another 45 spent choosing the music (Old 97’s, The Strange Boys, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Wicked Lester, Clap). And this trip, like many previous, involved one or more of the following:

Great friends, Hot Tamales, Indian-food comas, Jack Daniels, lamenting the collapse of journalism with old college friends, Pale Bock, shuffle board, the Hemlock, G&Ts, hugs, a Bobby Flay marathon, Bud Light, baseball games (Little League and Major League; A’s 7, Rays 1), covert guitar amp deliveries, Anchor Steam, High Fidelity, pork products, family, coffee, and a slobbering, but lovable buffoon named Lucas. I was asked what the totally hawt, rad, new up-and-coming band was, for which I could only reply: “Shit if I know … Willie Nelson?”

The drive home consisted of me asking if it was “sandwich time” every 15 minutes, referring to the pastrami-and-pepper jack grinder we picked up earlier from the Countryside Café, a brilliant little eatery in the Northern California podunk of Red Bluff. We passed places that sounded like they would be fun to go to—Turntable Bay, Soda Creek, Electric Avenue, Easy Street—but that I will unlikely ever visit. I did, however, finally say hi to the new TDoL mascot (pictured above). Stonewall Jackson was shot in my passenger seat by his own men just a little past Yreka. The Indian casino looked inviting (”Two hands of black jack and the trip pays for itself … “). And I came very close to finally stopping at Jiggles, just north of Salem. It’s a Jello factory, right?

Now we’re home. Things are back to normal. And I’m singing the song that was playing in my head well before we hit Multnomah County:

“Portland Oregon” - Loretta Lynn and Jack White

Tags: Clap, Countryside Cafe, High Fidelity, Old 97's, Stonewall Jackson, The Strange Boys, Wicked Lester

Rhett Miller was once a Young 97

Monday, March 2nd, 2009 | musiX | 1 Comment

I own both of Rhett Miller’s recent solo albums—full of well-written pop songs with slick production that coulda shoulda woulda worked their way into the VH1 rotation. After hearing them it was obvious that Rhett Miller needs the rest of the Old 97’s, just as they need him. But unless you’re an insane (!) Old 97’s fan, you probably don’t know that 2002’s The Instigator and 2006’s The Believer were not Miller’s first solo efforts …

It was exactly 20 years ago that a young, (even more) fresh-faced 18-year-old named Stewart Ransom Miller II released his first album with the help of future bandmate Murry Hammond. The result was Mythologies, an album filled with youthful angst and odes to fair ladies. Only 1,000 numbered copies were printed, which is probably a good thing … I don’t think Rhett Miller likes to bring it up in interviews.

I had heard of the record, but hadn’t heard any of the songs. I recently found a link to an interview and performance from 1987 on the Old 97’s fan site (via the Dallas Observer). The two-part interview was for a cable access show in Dallas called Hi-Res Diner two years before Mythologies was even released. Miller talks about writing angry songs about ex-girlfriends and his ideas for starting a band (glad he followed through). Now I’m not a violent person, but I have an uncontrollable urge to punch the interviewer in the face. Watch it here.

And check out Miller performing a cover of The Cramps‘ “TV Set” below, along with a couple of selections from Mythologies. Faux-British accents rule.

“Candy Apple Corkscrew Hair” - Rhett Miller (Mythologies)

“Iron Child” - Rhett Miller (Mythologies)

Rhett Miller preforming “TV Set” on Hi-Res Diner in 1987

Tags: Murry Hammond, Mythologies, Old 97's, Rhett Miller, The Believer, The Instigator

You get 10

Monday, December 15th, 2008 | musiX | 9 Comments

I’ve been wrestling with the whole year-end list thing since I saw them popping up in November. Some makes lists of 50. Others try 33. Twenty-five is always a good number. So is 20. I’ve decided to go with 10 (plus a few honorable mentions) … any more than that would be five too many. And I’m pretty sure it isn’t going to resemble yours. Or his. Or hers. Or theirs. That’s probably a good thing. Click on the cover to buy the album. And let the civil discourse begin …

10. Yes No Yes No Yes No - The Girls: I grew up during the early days of MTV when bands like Missing Persons, Devo and The Cars were coming in loud and clear in technicolor. The five men who are The Girls take the innocence, and the excess, of ’80s new wave and power pop without resorting to kitsch—then they grind it up with giddy Blank Generation riffs. What can I say? It’s damn good fun. “Not I” is the immediate standout, but “Who Are the Forgetters” is The Girls’ secret weapon that will sneak up on you and threaten to wear out the repeat button.

“Who Are the Forgetters” - The Girls

9. Nevergreens Vol. 1 and 2 - Los Fancy Free: Mexico City’s Los Fancy Free has been at it for years. Martin Thulin (aka Menonita Rock) was born to Swedish hippies in a Scandanavian Mennonite community in Northern Mexico. It reflects in the music—a rock outfit that relies just as much on flower power as it does on stomp boxes, with lyrics in English and Spanish. This year, the band released a double-disc gem. It’s a long and winding trip through the desert aboard the Partridge Family bus with pockets full of peyote. And they do a 10-minute psych-punk version of “Sultans of Swing.” Rules.

“Money Money Money” - Los Fancy Free

8. Rising Down - The Roots: The Roots continue to do all the right things by pointing out the wrong in America. Rising Down is less organic than past albums, and it’s definitely one of the group’s feistiest, taking issue with, well, everything: global warming, school shootings and the black experience in general. The biting social commentary is given weight by the always-steady back beat of ?uestlove and a revolving door of guest MCs including Talib Kweli and Mos Def. Should have made more lists. I’ll take The Roots over Lil Wayne’s haughty ways any day.

“Lost Desire” - The Roots

7. The Airing of Grievances - Titus Andronicus: Jersey’s Titus Andronicus punched me in the face and then kicked me in the ribs. Then they barked at me about Camus’ existentialist ways. Guitars and drums clang together like they were recorded in a tin shed while frontman Patrick Stickles screams like Conor Oberst on a whiskey bender. It’s actually a near-exact translation of their live show. If the E Street Band hopped a train to CBGB and sat in with The Ramones, you’d get Titus Andronicus which, fittingly, takes its name from William Shakespeare’s most violent tragedy.

“Joset of Nazareth’s Blues” - Titus Andronicus

6. S/T - Vampire Weekend: I heard “Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa” and, slightly annoyed, went on with my business. But a friend made me listen to the entire album. At gunpoint. I started humming “A-Punk” and “Oxford Comma” (which, sadly, I do give a fuck about). I began getting annoyed when critics focused more on the band’s Ivy League pedigree and its proclivity for sweaters and Sperry Top-Siders. Silly critics. It’s a smart, fun record—there, I said it. I hope Vampire Weekend keeps making decent albums; unless they’re willing to try new things, their Afro-indie pop could wear thin fast.

“Oxford Comma” - Vampire Weekend

5. Real Emotional Trash - Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks: Stephen Malkmus still has a way with words. He also wields a mighty axe, and it’s evident that Malkmus is indulging himself here, experimenting with strung-out epics that are heavy on the guitar. But Real Emotional Trash is still a pop gem, made even sunnier by the warm production. Even if he goes for the hippie jam (the 10-minute title track), or the stoner riff (”Dragonfly Pie”) Malkmus returns to those shimmering pop melodies with “Cold Son” and “We Can’t Help You,” the latter on which Janet Weiss’ vocals melt me every time.

“We Can’t Help You” - Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks

4. Anonymous - Nothing People: This three-piece hails from a tiny sliver of land in Northern California. I always picture them as these sort of mad scientists that hole themselves up with an array of vintage gear and effects inside this fortress-like laboratory among the wind-swept olive groves. Anonymous is Nothing People’s first full-length after releasing a handful of excellent 7-inches. The band makes controlled chaos where echo-y vocals quiver over distortion and feedback and occasional drum loops and keyboards. In fact, if I didn’t know them better, I’d say they were not of this earth.

“I-5″ (live) - Nothing People

3. Blame it On Gravity - Old 97’s: Full disclosure: I am a huge fan of the Old 97’s. Unhealthy huge. But, even I wasn’t too keen on this record upon initial spins; I selfishly wanted a full return to those glorious Bloodshot days. Then I began to notice Rhett Miller’s familiar bookish wordplay, which wasn’t quite there on 2004’s Drag It Up. And guitarist Ken Bethea’s leads and licks killed me. Blame it On Gravity essentially plays like a greatest hits album, tapping from the band’s 15-year history and all of their clear-cut influences—’60s Brit-pop, Replacements rawk, outlaw-country. How could it not be good?

“Here’s to the Halcyon” - Old 97’s

2. I’ll Be Lightning - Liam Finn: I wanted to hear this album because of my love for Liam’s pops. He definitely inherited Neil’s knack for writing a pretty pop song, even snagging some of his old man’s vocal phrasings in “Music Moves My Feet” and “Lead Balloon.” The young Finn plays most of the instruments here, and he isn’t afraid to throw some ugly on top of the pretty … in a very handsome sort of way. There’s always something lurking in the background to make songs like “Second Chance” and “I’ll Be Lightning” feel not-so Crowded House—not that there’s anything wrong with that.

“Lead Balloon” - Liam Finn

1. Furr - Blitzen Trapper: I gravitate toward melodies and dynamics, even production, well before lyrics begin talking to me. But Eric Earley can spin a yarn—whether it be a murder ballad in “Black River Killer” or the tale of a young man who, literally, follows his animal instincts in the title track. What’s most impressive is how naturally this band can traverses folk (”Furr”), country (”Stolen Shoes & a Rifle”) and even ramshackle garage (”Love U”). There’s even a weepy, Elton-inspired ballad in “Not Your Lover.” So good an album that I actually get a little sad when it ends.

“Black River Killer” - Blitzen Trapper

Even more to love (in no particular order):

Microcastle - Deerhunter

Evil Urges - My Morning Jacket

Dear Science - TV on the Radio

Alight of Night - Crystal Stilts

S/T - Fleet Foxes

Tags: Alight of Night, Anonymous, best of 2008, Blame It On Gravity, Blitzen Trapper, Crystal Stilts, Dear Radio, Deerhunter, Evil Urges, Fleet Foxes, Furr, I'll Be Lighning, Liam Finn, Los Fancy Free, Microcastle, My Morning Jacket, Nevergreens Vol. 1 and 2, Nothing People, Old 97's, Real Emotional Trash, Rising Down, Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks, The Airing of Grievances, The Girls, The Roots, Titus Andronicus, TV On the Radio, Vampire Weekend, year-end list, Yes No Yes No Yes No

The train keeps a gently rollin’

Thursday, October 16th, 2008 | musiX | 1 Comment

I’m an unabashed fan of the Old 97’s, especially their older records (everyone in their right mind should own a copy of Wreck Your Life), and I’m notorious for forcing others to listen, sometimes at gunpoint, until they come around. The band’s latest offering Blame It On Gravity received glowing reviews from loads of mags, rags and blogs … even the tastemakers at Pitchfork called the band’s single “Dance With Me” their best song in years. And to that I say, Fork yes.

But while the band receives the attention, and Rhett Miller puts out solo albums and gets the majority of the camera time, the 97’s other voice, Murry Hammond, has quietly released his first full-length I Don’t Know Where I’m Going But I’m On My Way. There’s no Replacements rawk here. The instrumentation is spare. And Hammond’s deep Texas drawl comes through on plaintive country and gospel songs.

The album is a journey of the spiritual kind, and trains are a common theme here. While most of the Old 97’s catalog mixes well with whiskey, this is a record for cozying up with a glass of red.

“I Believe, I Believe” - Murry Hammond

Tags: Blame It On Gravity, I Don't Know Where I'm Going But I'm On My Way, Murry Hammond, Old 97’s, Rhett Miller, Wreck Your Life