Sam & Ruby

SAM & RUBY
"THE HERE AND THE NOW"
(Rykodisc, 2009)


I wasn't going to bother posting an entry this evening, but that was before I totally on a whim put this CD on. I had never heard of this act before I saw the CD on a listening station at the store a few weeks ago. The cover image was nice and pastoral and cozy and all, so I put the headphones on and hit the play button. With every second that went by, I was pulled, little by little, into this album's subtle charms. Singer/guitarist Sam Brooker looks kind-of like James Morrison, and co-vocalist Ruby Amanfu bears a bit of a resemblance to Corinne Bailey Rae ... and if you took all the rasp out of Morrison's voice, and slightly raised the timbre of Bailey Rae's, that's more-or-less what they sound like. Possibly an unlikely pairing, but these two voices go blissfully beautifully together.

As the cover image might suggest, a fair share of this album falls firmly in the acoustic-folk category, but there's also a liberal dollop of classic Al Green-style soul ("Too Much"), a serving of gospel ("Heaven's My Home"), and even a radio-ready summertime pop number ("Chillin'") tossed in. Sam and Ruby essentially split the vocal duties 50/50 -- sometimes it's a he-sings/she-sings duet, sometimes she takes the spotlight with him singing backup, and sometimes vice-versa -- and that's one of the things I love most about this album, not the least of which is because both voices are totally appealing.

Not only does it seem like a twist of fate that I'd by sheer chance happen upon an album I'd end up loving so much (all the more interesting because folk music -- in which this disc could easily be classified, but shouldn't necessarily be pigeonholed -- is a genre that usually bores me to no end), but it's also kind-of serendipitous that I'd be listening to it on a Sunday evening ... it's just the kind of stuff that gives you that extra little breath of fresh air right before you have to go back to work for another week ... and makes the thought of doing so bearable. Thanks, Sam & Ruby ... I needed that.

This I Know (Album Version) - Sam & Ruby

Stephen Gately: 1976 - 2009

Rarely do I ever audibly gasp and/or feel my heart jump when I find out about the death of a celebrity, even one that I really like. But this one came as a particular shock -- our sweet little Stephen Gately, gone before his 34th birthday? I never follow the gossip on actors, singers, etc., so I don't know how much he indulged in alcohol (do we ever really know?), but he was the last of the group that I would ever have expected to see get cut down so abruptly in the prime of his life.

I've always dearly loved Stephen Gately ever since I first happened upon Boyzone. Not only was he the most adorable one of the group, but there was that gorgeous voice of his -- nothing less than a silky smooth slice of heaven. You can only imagine how thrilled I was when I found out that he was releasing his very own solo album ... I snapped it up as soon as I could (which took a bit longer back then, since I wasn't nearly as CD-cyber-shopping-savvy as I am now) and loved it. Maybe Ronan had the more successful solo album -- a fact I've always been a bit resentful of -- but to me, "New Beginning" was leaps and bounds above.

Strictly by measure of his contribution to music, Gately's death may not merit the same notoriety as other recent celebrity passings -- Boyzone were quite big in Ireland and the UK but hardly noticed beyond their shores, and his lone solo album sold decently but not nearly as well as the debut that launched bandmate Keating's ongoing solo career -- but it was something he did, unrelated to music, that made him remarkable ... something that nowadays is nothing special, but ten years ago was more of a statement than even Gately himself was probably aware.

It was ten years ago that Stephen Gately made history by becoming the first teen-pop singer to come out as gay while at the height of his career; boybands in general were more popular than ever, and so were Boyzone in particular. But perhaps most remarkable of all was how it disproved the homophobic way of thinking that until then permeated the music industry; Gately's teenage female fans screamed their devotion to him as loudly as they ever had, instead of abandoning him and the band as the record executives feared would happen. (His coming-out happened after the group's final studio album was released, but it wasn't a contributing factor to their breakup.) So to many people, myself included, Gately was as much a symbol as a singer.

No, he wasn't the first celebrity ever to come out, but he was the first one that targeted the key demographic of teenagers, arguably the biggest spenders of entertainment dollars. But the impact went beyond the business side of things. It's hard to tell for certain how directly Gately's coming-out inspired other young-ish celebrities to follow suit (Mark Feehily and Lance Bass, amongst others), but it's a pretty safe bet that it did. And then there were the countless young male boyband fans ... they'd always been in the audience, but until Stephen Gately came along, the objects of their affections had always been imaginary or hypothetical. Young gay male pop music fans finally had a voice -- and in this case it was a voice as sweet as honey.

One has to remember that the Internet, while firmly in place, wasn't quite as much a part of social interaction in 1999 as it is now, so gay and lesbian youth felt more isolated back then, even though their voices were quickly becoming heard. It's tragically ironic that Gately's death would occur on the eve of National Coming Out Day. At the risk of getting all socio-political on this blog, I'm a firm believer in the fact that no one should have to feel like any less of a person for being who they are (especially when all it amounts to is loving people of the same gender), nor should people who think otherwise get away with perpetuating such self-loathing. Stephen Gately played a pivotal role in helping to change that, even if he was reluctant to or unaware of doing so.

Lots of love, Steo ... I'll miss you.

Mika

I am so behind on listening to new and recent CDs that it's almost not funny. But I have a good excuse, one that I'll probably share with you (either directly or indirectly) next month. I also have a not-so-good excuse -- basically, the simple fact that I've been having quite a bit more fun blogging about this kind of stuff than music lately. But anyway, now that the forementioned good excuse is no longer occupying nearly as much of my time as it was, I should be able to get caught up on recent arrivals in the next few weeks. Here's to me not calling myself a liar...!

MIKA
"THE BOY WHO KNEW TOO MUCH"
(Universal Republic, 2009)


It seems that, quite often, I end up liking an artist's sophomore release more than their debut, and Mika is the latest example. For this album he seems to have toned his overall sound down a notch or two, mostly forsaking the high flamboyance of tracks like "Grace Kelly" in favor of the comparatively mild tones of tracks like "My Interpretation". But then, I could be wrong and I might be hearing just as campy a set of songs as on "Life In Cartoon Motion", since I already knew what to expect from him based on that album (as well as the cover of this new one carrying on the busy technicolor theme started by it).

The more obvious sign of change is that there are more quiet moments on the album -- the lush "I See You" is almost like Scissor Sisters doing a OneRepublic ballad, and the delicate "By The Time" kind-of sounds like a lost track off an Imogen Heap album. The rest of the disc is lively like its predecessor, but somehow without being obnoxious (not that his debut was) -- "Touches You" reminds me of George Michael's "Father Figure" as if it were written for a High School Musical group number; "Blame It On The Girls" is good, fun, classic Mika; and I totally love the festive Latin beat of "Blue Eyes", probably my favorite track on the album. The '80s synth-pop groove of "Rain" and the torchy sway of closing track "Pick Up Off The Floor" do nicely to round out the variety of sounds on the set.

It's not that I necessarily like his new album more than his first specifically because he's mellowed out a bit -- heck, I never would have bought this one in the first place if I didn't like his debut as much as I did. It's just that artists who regularly pile on such aural embellishments can come off (to me, at least) as being pretentious and gimmicky, and would wear out their welcome if they carried the act on to a second album. But Mika seems to walk the tightrope between his previous antics and a more mature approach well enough to make it seem like a natural transition ... or at least, a step toward it.

Dr. John - MIKA