Song(s) of the Week: Shine / Light Shine

"Shine" by Martin Ansell
from the soundtrack album
"Better Off Dead" (A&M, 1985)




and


"Light Shine" by Swirl 360
from the album
"California Blur" (Atenzia, 2005)




Okay, here's another curiosity that warrants a two-song post. As you'll find out when you listen to both of these songs, the choruses bear an uncanny resemblance. I'd say that the newer song legitimately borrowed from the older one, but the liner notes for "Light Shine" give no credit to Martin Ansell, the writer of "Shine". We all know how a melody can worm its way into your brain, so that can usually be forgiven ... but to have nearly the same lyrics in that melody? That's more than a coincidence.

The first song, "Shine", is from the soundtrack to the twisted and incredibly hilarious John Cusack comedy "Better Off Dead" (seriously, if you've never seen this movie, watch it by any means necessary as soon as possible!), and is pretty cool in its own right, though it does sound rather dated now. The second song, "Light Shine", is from the second album by American rock/pop band Swirl 360, which was only released in Europe. It's a great album, more rock-like than its predecessor, and most of its songs are better than this one. (I may review the album here sometime.)

The optimist in me would like to believe that Swirl 360 either deliberately lifted from Ansell but unintentionally neglected to give the proper credit, or they unintentionally copied from Ansell and didn't realize there was credit to give. Maybe one or more members of Swirl 360 saw the movie once, and that's how the song planted itself in their subconscious. Like I said, I still like Swirl 360 as much as I ever have, even if they copycatted Martin Ansell's song on purpose. I just thought it was kind-of an interesting similarity between the two songs. What do you think -- copycat or coincidence?

CD of the Week: The Shore

THE SHORE
"THE SHORE"
(Maverick, 2004)

They say you should never judge a book by its cover, but there's always an exception to every rule. Take this CD, for example -- the image of dancing watercolors around a pastoral woodland accurately evoke the sound of this album: an equal blend of '60s psychedelia and '90s Britpop wherein the swirling guitars and echoey soundscapes dovetail to form the backbone of their sound. The irony is that this is a 21st-Century band from the United States (although their California origins do come through somewhat as well).

The album starts out with a slow, somber dirge ("Hard Road"), but soon picks up momentum, taking on an evenly paced mix of upbeat and downbeat tracks. Highlights include the hopeful "Waiting For The Sun", the swaying rocker "It Ain't Right", the buoyant ballad "I'll Be Your Man", and what has become one of my top dozen favorite songs of all time, the anthemic "Everything We Are" (if you buy only one song from this album, make it that one!).

Some of the songs might sound samey, but then if the whole album is this good, then it's not necessarily a bad thing. The sweet-and-sour voice of lead singer and chief songwriter Ben Ashley complements the band's sound perfectly, helping carry the album through a quick 46 minutes. Word has it that The Shore are still together, looking for a new record label. I sure hope so, 'cause I hate to think that this is all we'll ever hear from them.

Some Kind of Creative Drought

Sorry that the posts have slowed down a bit lately. I haven't been very motivated recently with regard to Thnairg's World of Music. Things have been a bit busy with work, so I've wanted to rest on the weekends more than anything else. I've also had a little trouble thinking up interesting things to write about. I hope this is just a slow period that will pass with time, and that things will bounce back to their lively old selves soon.

I have been thinking about doing my own podcast -- maybe a 15-minute audio program every week (or 30-minute if I get really daring) in which I share my favorite music with you. I've recently found out that an acquaintance who works at a local record store has her own radio show, and I've been daydreaming about the ridiculously huge amount of fun it would be to have my own radio show, and a podcast could be a promising alternative. The good news is, all I need is a microphone for my computer, since I've already got the audio editing software I'd need to paste the whole program together. I get excited just thinking about it, so if my podcast ever happens to materialize, rest assured that here is where you'll be able to download each and every episode.

As I said recently, I'm not shutting down this blog for good ... at the bare minimum, you'll keep getting a CD of the Week and a Song (or two) of the Week. Oh, and speaking of Song of the Week, be sure and cast your vote in the poll at the top of the right-hand column. (It expires at the end of this month.)

Song(s) of the Week: McAlyster

"I Know How The River Feels"
and
"Looking Over My Shoulder"
McAlyster
from the single "I Know How The River Feels" (MCA, 2000)

MCA's Tony Brown and Bruce Hinton have signed a four-piece Florida band after hearing just one song on a demo tape. McAlyster, which came together two years ago in Pensacola, includes Josh Walther, Cody Collins, Leigh Usilton and Valerie Gillis. The band came to MCA's attention through Nashville music publisher Pat Finch. The actual demo recording, a cover of "I Know How the River Feels," will be released to radio this fall. The tune went to No. 32 on the Billboard country singles chart for Diamond Rio in 1999 and was included on Ty Herndon's 1997 disc Living in a Moment.

That 2000 news tidbit on the CMT website basically summarizes McAlyster's career. I can only assume that they were fully expecting to put out an album, but something obviously happened to derail that plan after their first single was released, and they were never heard from again, at least as a group.

That's right, folks -- these two songs represent the entire professional recording output of the teen country quartet known as McAlyster. I don't particularly care for country music, but I picked up this two-track single out of curiosity back when it was first released (and I bought Reba McEntire's "Duets" album this week, so "having country on the brain" probably has something to do with why I chose them as Song of the Week honorees). These songs, a pretty ballad and an upbeat fiddle-filled kicker, are pleasant enough, even for a country music detractor like me.

After about half an hour on Google, I was able to dig up the following: Cody Collins (I can only assume it's the same Cody Collins) has a MySpace page and is now recording country music as a solo artist; Leigh Usilton (there can't be very many of them out there) is pursuing higher education in New England; and there's a Josh Walther who's a performer at Dollywood (I've got a feeling that's him). Anyway, I just thought it would be a curious novelty, to post the only two songs that a group ever officially released. Enjoy!

CD of the Week: Ben Lee

BEN LEE
"RIPE"
(New West, 2007)

Why the hell hasn't Ben Lee become a household name and a multi-platinum-selling superstar by now? He ought to be, 'cause he makes much better music than half of the recording artists who regularly inhabit the Top 40. Maybe it's because his lyrics aren't usually exceptionally profound. Maybe it's because his songs aren't especially angry or sexy or sullen. Maybe it's because he doesn't have pinup-model good looks. Well, as he effectively demonstrates on this, his sixth disc, none of the above are necessary ingredients for a thoroughly enjoyable, Top-40-worthy album.

"Ripe" may not have been intended as a sequel to his previous album, "Awake Is The New Sleep", but it feels like one. Everything that made that album a total delight to listen to is present here: the gently head-bobbing tunefulness of the melodies, and the lyrics with dashes of impish wit in the verses and sing-along simplicity in the choruses. The songs are all great, but some of my early favorites are "Birds And Bees" (a lovely little love song that stops short of being treacly thanks to Ben's effervescent vocal interplay with guest Mandy Moore), "Numb" (an almost Tin-Pan-Alley-inspired romp), "Love Me Like The World Is Ending" (a worthy descendant of sorts to "Gamble Everything For Love", my favorite song from his last album), "Just Say Yes" (a rousing anthem for life and love), and the engaging and cleverly-written ballad "So Hungry".

I'd love to see Ben achieve massive success because I think he deserves it, but I'm sure he's quite content with the cozy feel of an independent-label recording contract and a modest cult-like following of fans. Plus, I hate to think of what effect major-label meddling could have on the purity of his music. Besides, when an artist has people like Mandy Moore, Rooney, and Rachael Yamagata making guest appearances on his albums, it's not like he isn't feeling loved.

Song of the Week: Creepin' Up Slowly

"Creepin' Up Slowly"
Taxiride
from the album "Garage Mahal" (Warner/Australia, 2002)

Australian band Taxiride went worldwide with their debut album "Imaginate" back in 1999, but disappointing sales in the United States prompted them to bypass North America for their subsequent releases. Besides narrowing its distribution, there was another difference apparent in their sophomore effort: the sound. Taxiride took the airy, BBMak-like sound of their first album and roughed it up a bit, throwing in crunchier guitars, slightly heavier drums, and sometimes moodier lyrics.

One of the more pop-oriented, radio-friendly tracks off "Garage Mahal" was this totally infectious single, which became the most-played song on Australian radio that year. "Creepin' Up Slowly" reminds me a lot of Hanson's "If Only", probably in part because I'm not all that crazy about the "scratching" effects -- really the only thing about either song that I don't love. Why put such a "poppy" element in a song that's otherwise firmly planted in rock, especially if you're wanting to be taken seriously as a maturing band (something that Hanson, and presumably Taxiride to a lesser degree, were trying to do)? That one minor flaw notwithstanding, this song is otherwise a slice of pure music bliss.

Taxiride went a bit heavier still for its most recent album, "Axiomatic" (perhaps a bit too much, since I ended up trading it in eventually), but they did have one equally dandy single, "Oh Yeah", from that album. But I consider "Garage Mahal", and specifically the song "Creepin' Up Slowly", to be their peak. Maybe they'll have another one in the future....

CD of the Week: V

V
"YOU STOOD UP"
(Universal Island/UK, 2004)

As much as I love boybands, even I was a little overwhelmed by the avalanche of them that occurred in the late '90s following the success of Backstreet Boys and NSYNC. A few were good and stood the test of time, but most were mediocre and disappeared after their first album, and the boyband phenomenon died out almost as quickly as it appeared. Apparently someone thought it was never too early for a boyband renaissance, as we saw a new (and significantly smaller) crop of them appear a few years ago in the UK. Arguably the best of them was a group called V.

V eschewed the standard synth-dance-pop formula in favor of a more mature, guitar-based sound. I don't know if it's for that reason alone, but every song on this album is excellent. From the funky attitude of "Blood, Sweat & Tears" and "Walk On", to the foot-shuffling pop of "Hold Me" and "Hip To Hip", to the tender balladry of the title track and "Stop The Tears", and capped with a fantastic cover of the Jackson 5 classic "Can You Feel It", this is quite simply boyband pop at its best -- complete with well-written songs and expertly sung vocals all around. There are the incidental pluses about the album (at least one songwriting credit and one guitar contribution by Espen Lind, and a featured appearance by McFly's Tom and Danny) that may have initially drawn me to it, but I'm certain I would have eventually happened upon it and enjoyed it just as much without them. Sure, it may not be perfect ... the lyrics in "Hip To Hip" could have been a bit more sophisticated in places, and "Earth, Wind & Fire" sounds just a little bit too much like "Blood, Sweat & Tears" ... but there's very little that could have made this album any better than it was.

Unfortunately, the lads of V weren't able to muster enough support or record sales, and the group broke up after its one and only album. Perhaps the world wasn't quite ready for a boyband resurgence, because with an album this good, I can't fathom why else their recording career ended so quickly. I'll forever wonder what a brilliant sophomore album they would have recorded if they'd been given the chance, because they inevitably get better as they progress, and precious few boybands' debut albums are as good as this one was.

I Gots The Funk 'n' Blues

I've been a little concerned lately that I may have started to lose interest in music. Is it possible for a person to be worried about something and also to not care much about it at the same time ... a mix of anxiety and apathy, perhaps? Because this feeling of "anxiapathy" is just the effect this revelation is having on me. Maybe it sounds a little crazy, but if you felt it yourself, you'd understand.

I first noticed about a year ago that I had stopped listening to the promotional CD samplers I habitually picked up in the independent stores' "free stuff" bins or had been receiving in magazines. Now the vast majority of them either go back to those bins never having been listened to, or just end up on a shelf or my desk collecting dust. It's the same thing with music magazines: I used to read all the little articles on up-and-coming acts, checking each one's "recommended if you like..." section for artists I already love. But I rarely do that anymore, either. One reason for that is because I've discovered over the years that those "you might also like..." lists can be very hit-and-miss. It takes more than a passing sonic resemblance for me to like an artist; it's a combination of things (the singer's voice, the composition of the melody and lyrics, the instruments used) and how they fit together -- and I think there's even a proverbial "je ne sais quoi" involved, that intangible effect on the listener's ear that an artist's music either has or hasn't.

I think part of my apparent "music ambivalence" might stem from the fact that I've discovered some truly fantastic artists in the last few years. It sounds like a paradox, I know, but it makes a certain amount of sense: Erik Faber and McFly are two of the most amazing artists out there right now (check out this recent post from Poster Girl ... the way she feels about Espen Lind is pretty-much the way I feel about Erik Faber), and I find it quite impossible to imagine falling in greater "love-at-first-sound" with any other artists than I have with them. And, as you might speculate, it's a bit difficult to look forward to discovering more great music in the future when you can't imagine anything better out there than what you've already heard.

On top of all this are two other circumstances at work: my continuing struggle to spend less money on music (at least where my credit card is concerned), and a general feeling of "sensory overload" -- with the endless bombardment of music blogs (as wonderful to read as they are) and the recommendations, reviews and MP3 downloads they contain, it's easy to feel like you're drowning in a sea of sound ... I'm surprised I haven't felt overwhelmed before now.

Don't worry ... I don't plan on shutting down this here blog anytime soon. And I won't stop reading other people's blogs either, though I might become a bit less avid about it. And of course I'm gonna keep buying CDs I have my sights set on in advance, from my favorite artists and new ones I happen to catch wind of. But, if it's all the same to you, I'll no longer go probing every cyber-nook and CD-cranny for every possible music discovery. I've got plenty of tunes to listen to already, and I've decided that if I'm meant to fall in love with a particular song or a certain artist, fate will send them my way. I still love music ... but I think I'll love it more if I rest my ears more often.

Song Of The Week: We're Not In Kansas

"We're Not In Kansas"
Big Country
from the album "The Buffalo Skinners" (Fox, 1993)

Although relegated to "one-hit wonder" status in the United States, Big Country enjoyed well over a decade of success in their native UK, racking up over a dozen Top-40 singles. This particular song was never released as a single, and was recorded during the waning years of their career, but was included on both their fifth (released only in the UK) and sixth (only in the US) albums.

Songs with socio-political subject matter are seldom my thing, but every once in a while I'll come across one I like. This one is completely rock -- nothing "pop" about it -- full of wailing vocals, ringing guitars, and crashing drums. Clocking in at over six minutes, it's nearly an epic, with its sprawling chorus being almost as long as each verse, but it doesn't feel overly drawn-out at all.

The lyrics might lean a bit more toward the literal side as far as these topical songs go, but that's the way I like them anyway (I'm not much for elaborate symbolism). Plus, the song's message is one that will (unfortunately) probably never go out of style -- and I can't help but like the "Wizard of Oz" references sprinkled throughout.

Hey ... it's a song from the early '90s and it's not an "Audio Train Wreck"! I told you I'd start finding them soon!

CD of the Week: Kavana

KAVANA
"SPECIAL KIND OF SOMETHING: THE BEST OF KAVANA"
(EMI/UK, 2007)

There's one problem with having as big a CD collection as I do: if something is more than a year or so old, or isn't one of my current favorites, it can go overlooked and unheard for months, perhaps even years. Such is the case with British pop singer Kavana, who hit the all-too-brief height of his popularity in the late '90s. Or, should I say, "such was the case" -- thanks to this compilation, I doubt I'll be neglecting him for quite awhile now.

I had forgotten what a deliciously smooth and seductive voice Kavana had, and how skillfully he used it. (Maybe that's one reason I should be glad I haven't listened to him for so long: too much of him and I'd probably be taking his voice for granted.) He could hold his own against Michael Bublé, Josh Groban, and any of the other easy-listening/classical crossover artists who have come along in recent years. In fact, I've thought several times that Kavana should have been recording albums of pop standards from the '40s and '50s; they'd arguably be the best showcase for his vocal prowess. Mind you, that's not to say that his pop records are any less enjoyable -- he sounds fantastic regardless of what he sings.

This disc is one of the most well-put-together compilations of any artist I've seen in quite awhile. Not only is it filled to capacity (19 tracks at a running time of 79 minutes) and inexpensively priced, but it's got plenty of treats for those of us who only have his two albums. Besides the expected singles and a smattering of album tracks, the lineup includes a remix ("Special Kind Of Something"), an extended cut ("Release It"), an acoustic version of an album track ("Wait For The Day"), a pair of rare, non-album B-sides ("Is That You?" and "Isn't Love Insane", two of his best B-sides in my opinion), and three songs that were never before released (including a beautiful duet with Scottish singer Lulu). Even for me, who has (I think) every B-side Kavana had ever previously released, this disc was a must-buy just because of the three newly-available tracks. Naturally I've got favorite songs I would have chosen over some included here, but very few (and doesn't everybody have small quibbles with greatest-hits records?).

His appearance on a recent UK television show seems to have caused something of a resurgence in his popularity. Kavana hints in the liner notes that this is a re-introduction to his music, and that he plans on releasing a new recording soon. I certainly hope so ... with his talent, Kavana deserves a longer and more prosperous singing career than he's gotten so far, and it would be a long, long time before I'd even begin to get tired of listening to him.

Whose Genre Is It, Anyway?

One thing I love about music nowadays is how the genres are starting to blur together more and more as time goes on. Pop, rock, country, blues, soul, jazz, R&B and hip-hop have always overlapped a little bit, but it seems to be happening more now than ever before. It's probably a symbiotic thing: as artists become more experimental and all-encompassing with the music they create, we listeners begin to appreciate a wider variety of genres ... and those of us listeners who also make our own music push the creative envelope even further as a result, broadening the palates of the next generation of listeners.

There have always been artists who've had crossover success, from Elvis Presley (famous not just in the rock world, but had a big country following and was even known for gospel singing), to the historic collaboration between Aerosmith and Run-DMC ("Walk This Way", the first successful rock-rap hybrid song), which probably led in part to the whole "nu-metal" genre. Now we have the hip-hop/R&B/pop mashup Gnarls Barkley, and many other artists who simply don't fit neatly into one particular genre of music.

I've become wary of most genre labels in recent years, because it's impossible to do any artist justice by calling them "pop" or "rock" or anything in particular ... which brings me to the two artists I'm highlighting in this post. I won't even attempt to classify these albums in any particular genre, because it can't be done ... which means they'd probably appeal to a fairly large percentage of listeners. That's probably another reason that "genre-benders", as I call them, are increasing in number: a wider target audience means a greater chance for success ... not that either of these artists was consciously using that strategy.

Bent Fabric -- Bent Fabricius-Bjerre is a Danish pianist in his eighties, who scored a big hit decades ago with a charming piano-powered tune called "Alley Cat" (you'd recognize it if you heard it). Now, he's gotten some help turbo-charging his music for a new generation on the fantastic, and appropriately-titled, album "Jukebox". There are a few instrumental piano-based tracks here, but also plenty of actual songs, featuring several different guest vocalists. Whether you're looking for jazz, hip-hop, soul, pop, or all of the above, you'll find it here.

Lazyboy -- You know those "miscellaneous factoids" and "amusing sayings" emails that are perpetually floating around the internet? Well, imagine the better of those being recited over laid-back "chill-out" beats and instrumentals, and you have a general idea of what Lazyboy sounds like on their album "Lazyboy TV". The most popular single from this album is different from all the rest: the sharp-witted comedy of Greg Giraldo narrating a social-commentary track called "Underwear Goes Inside The Pants". There are also some "feel-good" numbers like "Inhale Positivity" and "It's All About Love..." (the titles speak for themselves), as well as Lazyboy's take on the classic poem "Desiderata", which fits right in. Predictable? Maybe ... but for some reason I really, really like this album.