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Album Review
David Olney
The Stone
(Deadbeet)
Quick, how many Easter-themed albums can you name that don’t involve the Messiah? I thought so. Even if you can name some, none have David Olney’s trade-mark hardbitten squint about them.
Olney is a empathetic interpreter of stories, but he does his best work when there is acid and sizzle in the retelling. This video, “Jerusalem Tomorrow” is how the EP starts, with an apostle just joining the team of a traveling healer. “Brains” rocks hard with blues harp wailing over the tough cop interrogating Judas, screeching over and over, “I wanna know who’s the brains behind this operation!” Olney posits this as one more explanation of the legendary betrayal.
It occurs to me that I wish I had Olney’s gift for inhabiting another creature’s mind. Projecting yourself into Barabbas the thief or being the soldier guarding the tomb who has to man-up and report to his superiors that the stone has been moved and the body is gone, these are good concepts. But speaking as the ass that Jesus rode (“Brays”)? That, my friends, is genius.
Coldplay protrudes from the pop-music scene like a thorn — appreciated for standing out among the crowd with its distinctly different take on the mainstream, but all at once loathed for being the prickly, pretentious pop-version of “edgy.”
Chris Martin, who cites 1970s New York graffiti as his primary source of inspiration for the album's lyrical, takes the group in the direction of politically charged, pissed-off optimism, if there is such a thing.
The album couples the common, relatable themes of “fighting the man” and “gosh, love sucks” in what could be argued to be a more eloquent and wordy fashion than the usual pop album. The first single “Every Teardrop is a Waterfall,” for example, takes on the simple and increasingly dire theme of “let’s party” and turns it into an elongated, elaborate anthem that's clearly crafted to be embraced by radio rather than hardcore fans. It is, as most things are with Coldplay, brilliant but equally deceptive.
Key album tracks include the opener, energized love anthem “Hurts Like Heaven,” which is flawlessly led in by the title-track intro. Also, the infectious instrumental of “Charlie Brown,” the ethereal “Princess of China” collaboration with Rihanna, and “Paradise,” which is sure to become another staple sampling for Coldplay’s inevitable greatest hits album.
Man Cave is a testosterone-laden Monday feature that highlights the weekend haps of a pop culture-loving Philly dude.
Primus has a new album out called Green Naugahyde. It features Jay Lane, their drummer from the pre-Frizzle Fry days. Green Naugahyde is their first new material since 2003's Animals Should Not Try To Act Like People, an EP that, while brilliant, was a bridge sometimes too far. Green Naugahyde takes a stylistic step backward to their 1999 Antipop album, but trumps that effort with more inspired compositions throughout.
"The Last Salmon Man" combines Les Claypool's lead-bass riffs with Larry Lalonde's slow-solo "American Life"-style guitar. "Eternal Consumption 
Engine" is one of Claypool's more socially conscious efforts, combining commentary about the value of contemporary money-spending with Primus' signature "Psychedelic Polka" style (to use Claypool's own phrasing).
"Eyes of the Squirrel" is a darker piece in slower "My Name Is Mud" tempo complete with effects-laden bass fills. A tribute to that famous viral squirrel from YouTube, "Eyes of the Squirrel" deals with the entertainment-drenched landscape of modern culture.
"Jilly's on Smack" is the most "Animals Like People"-esque track, complete with delayed guitar, bow-struck bass and an expansive interlude movement. "Moron TV", another socially opinionated ditty, boasts one of Primus' most badass riffs to date, and "HOINFODAMAN" is an aggressive assault on those who are "Ho'in for the man."
"Green Naugahyde" will be available next Monday, Sept. 12. Primus will be in Philly to promote it on Oct. 1 @ Tower Theater.
Since the release of 2009’s The Fame Monster, Lady Gaga has worked to revamp her image from reigning queen of pop to a hybrid religious-sexual cultural icon. And, with Billboard predicting that her latest, Born This Way, will sell 850,000 copies in the U.S. in the first week, it seems that her efforts have paid off. Although she seems not to have lost her status as royalty in the industry, the de-mainstreamification of her image, if not her music itself, seems to have satiated her adoring fans (“little monsters”) without compromising the integrity of her music as archetype of pop.
Fleet Foxes are an American fantasy. Their brand of flannel-clad folk rock sounds as though it’s the work of a team of 19th-century lumberjacks, crowded around a fire to sing old English tunes after a hard day in the woods. And the songwriting and lush harmonies are good enough that it hardly matters that they’re actually 21st-century indie rockers.
Their new album, Helplessness Blues, marks no giant leap from its self-titled predecessor, but that’s not a bad thing. Why change such an effective formula? These are a songwriter’s songs: well-constructed, strongly melodic, and straightforward without being boring. That’s particularly true of the heartbreaking first song, “Montezuma.” It derives its power from a plaintive melody as well as lyrics that sound much more autobiographical than the typical Fleet Foxes song. “So now I am older/ Than my mother and father/ When they had their daughter/ Now what does that say about me?” Here, Pecknold has found an often-elusive balance in lyrics that feel ancient but also authentic. Typically, the band seems more interested in painting lyrical pictures than in offering personal insight, and they might fairly be criticized for inauthenticity: their olden-day persona can sometimes ring false. But in songs like “Montezuma,” the band presents a boomerang-generation concern—my parents were so much more accomplished at my age! —without forsaking the aged feel. It’s a sign of real timelessness.
The other standout track is “Helplessness Blues,” a song whose opening vocal line is strong enough to carry the song over an incredibly simple guitar part. After a few quick strums of a single chord, the guitar sits on just one note, and the basic chord doesn’t change until almost a minute into the song. When it does, it’s a big payoff, accompanied by thick harmonies. Like many Fleet Foxes songs, the tune morphs completely halfway through, piling on harmonies, electric guitar, and trademark rich drumming. Josh Tillman consistently gives the toms their due, avoiding the typical rocker’s focus on snare and thus adding to the band’s already expansive sound.
The Bob in question is Bob Wills, the great populizer of western swing. Hot Club of Cowtown has more than done him justice in this live-in-studio recording. Some tunes are Wills standards, just as juicy and full of dancer-driving energy as the original 1930s big band settings, yet played by only the trio’s members. Elana James (fiddle), Whit Smith (guitar) and Jake Erwin (bass) are extraordinary instrumentalists. Layer the light and (mostly) sweet pop lyrics of the 30s over astonishing riffs and relentless rhythm, dancers and music snobs alike will be seduced by this collection.
Mon., April 4, 8 p.m., $20$-22, World Cafe Live, 3025 Chesnut St., 215-222-1400, worldcafelive.com.
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