Zach Bryan: Boys of Faith
For fuddy-duddies who still listen to entire records, a whetted appetite is better than a baited stream, so this five-song EP from a guy who’s put out two-hour albums is welcome. Livelier than Zach Bryan, I’m taking it as confirmation of the notion that however homemade his production techniques remain, he wants to be a rock star. While the title track duet with a virtually inaudible Justin Vernon brings the mood down, the duet with Noah Kahan is a delight that proves the versatility of both, and along with “Nine Ball” adds welcome specificity to Bryan’s storytelling techniques. Elsewhere, “Pain, Sweet, Pain” is an experiment in asking guitar, drums, and fiddle to play different versions of the same song, which is what I want from an EP. His appeal is still blue-collar grit and integrity, but like many rock stars before him, that becomes harder to maintain when you’re a star. To wit: “frauds as friends / starts as ends / big lights is actual love.” Is it, though? A MINUS
Hurray For The Riff Raff: The Past Is Still Alive
It’s no coincidence that Bronx-born wandering spirit Alynda Segarra’s self-discovery album is also their most songful—at least in my aesthetic ideal, clarity of expression follows dedication to form. Among the most noteworthy lines are “then the moment's over and suddenly a boulder is just sand” and “nothing is free but it could certainly be”, while “she broke my heart but at least I got a shower in” is even higher wisdom. More revealing about their unorthodox life are “I used to eat out of the garbage” and their belief that they were born to watch the world burn—which they may well see to the bitter end if “Buffalo” is any indication of their patience. As thing progress, formal rigour bends and bows, with the more recursive structures no less compelling and speckled with a bluesiness it doesn’t seem fanciful to attribute to Segarra have settled in New Orleans. If anything, the latter songs reinforce the hushed power of their voice, which is so lovely it makes even "here's a silver spoon so you can gouge out both your eyes" sound inviting. A MINUS
Terry Klein: Leave the Light On
Grumblecore singer songwriter has brains and heart but doesn’t move a muscle. * (“Shimmers and Hums” “Blue Hill Bay”)
Corb Lund: El Viejo
Outlaw songs played for novelty that do better with contemporary stories (MMA comebacks) than historical reenactments. ** (“Out On a Win” “Old Familiar Drunken Feeling”)
Sam Outlaw: Terracotta
Alternatively: Vanilla—which this midwestern softie gets away with by synthesizing sentimentalists from Squeeze to Jens Lekman and being, in his words, “a pretty good singer for a writer of songs.” Pretty good ones. *** (“Heart and Soul” “Figure It Out”)
Sheer Mag: Playing Favorites
Where phellow Philadelphian Adam Weiner’s piano man act is a throwback that doesn’t preclude his personality, this quartet is the exact sum of its nostalgia. Surprisingly, that isn’t the problem it could be. Except when they stretch out on the grooves of “Moonstruck” and “Mechanical Garden”, this is all Friday night kicks rendered in taut guitar configurations whose reference points are more winked at than announced. That slyness means that the second you think you’re in the presence of Johnny Thunders feral guitar (“Eat It and Beat It”), you’re jerked 10 years forward to a heavier metal by the bridge, only for both to be gazumped by the double-helix arpeggios on “All Lined Up”. Lead singer Tina Halliday’s job is to enhance the music with dexterous harmonics, while the lyrics you can make out revisit the plays of yesteryear: rattling off the days of the week, shooting pool with singles at the bar, shoo-be-doop-ing, and imploring you to come on you son of a bitch. If you’re looking for a more personal touch, there’s that allusion to masturbation. Also, this: “as long as I've got a jar you got half of all I have to share / I love the way you give to me when there's nothing to spare.” A MINUS
Sleater-Kinney: Little Rope
Though not helped by John Congleton’s fussy/fuzzy production or a beat that sounds workmanlike even when you’re actively trying to not make Janet Weiss comparisons, this latter-day twosome’s powers of communication remain clear and direct. They’re sensitive to the political moment without dwelling on it. “Crusader” is the most blatant, while the opener calls “Hell” “a place that we can’t seem to live without”. What’s diminished since Path of Wellness is liveliness, which may seem an odd thing to say about an album steeped in grief. But they’ve always been a serious bunch, and that’s never stopped them having fun before. Still, they remain experts in tension-and-release, and make judicious use of a sonic vernacular equal parts opening ceremony and air raid siren, so between the industrial grind of “Needlessly Wild”, the theatrical sweep of “Say It Like You Mean It”, and the sugary shuffle of “Don’t Feel Right”, there are bops to be had. And something like motivational speech. Choice fridge magnet: “get up girl and dress yourself / in clothes you love for a world you hate.” B PLUS
Bailey Zimmerman: Religiously: The Album
Meet Bailey: a heartbroken 23-year-old. When you listen to his record, you become his buddy. And right now, Bailey needs his buddies to witness his pain. Even when he repeats himself. Or contradicts himself (which is it—“you brought me to god and I put you through hell / you were all about us / I was all about myself” or “you had a bed of roses but girl you couldn't walk that line”?) Or insists on replaying “God’s Gonna Cut You Down” with an intensity you find troubling regarding his attitude (and intentions?) towards his ex. But you don’t challenge him. Partly, because he’s not in a reasoning mood. He’s deep in a sadness that comes out as a warble that (as you’ve observed to yourself but not him) makes him sound a little like a goat. But also because you admire his turn of phrase: “for the record / throwin in the towel takes some effort” is the kind of bar stool wisdom that made you like him in the first place. And when he gets lyrical, it’s intoxicating. Just now, he compared his ex to a cigarette and didn’t quit the metaphor till he’d gone as far as “she'll love you till the filter and leave you in the ash” and “you think you're just taking a drag but you're playing with the fire.” And anyway, it’s refreshing to see another dude show this much sensitivity. Makes you wonder if one day you’ll also manage to open up. A MINUS