Jeff McCord on the month’s new releases
Spoon
Merge
If you’re one of the suits in the music biz, you’re telling the members of Austin’s Spoon, reigning kings of the indie rock world, that it’s time to reach for the fabled brass ring of pop stardom. You know, the big radio hit. Crossover. Platinum city. But if the band is actually getting such inane advice, there’s good news: It isn’t listening. Instead, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga (Merge), 36 minutes of taut, unadorned, muscular pop—with Britt Daniel’s vocals still embodying teen angst at an age well past such concerns—only extends the group’s remarkable run of rock and roll gems. Sure, there are some horns and hand claps sprinkled about, but they seem little more than the band’s current musings. Since shaking an early Guided by Voices fixation, Spoon has imitated no one— and once its undeniable hooks sink in, there’s no getting them out. In uncharacteristic style, a couple songs here lose their mystery and take on a confessional tone; “Finer Feelings” boasts an obvious, un-Spoon-like subject matter: resisting pressure to sell out. Of course, it’s the album’s catchiest tune.
Jana Hunter
Gnomonsong
Warming up to the new breed of “freak folk” takes practice. Spearheaded by the likes of Will Oldham and Houston-born Devendra Banhart, the movement—made up of young acoustic artists—is inward-focused, solipsistic, and unabashedly psychedelic; you’d have to go back to old Donovan records to find a historical antecedent. (Played “Hurdy Gurdy Man” lately?) Arlington’s Jana Hunter, championed by Banhart and signed to his label, represents the weaknesses and strengths of the genre. Her 2005 debut, Blank Unstaring Heirs of Doom, found Hunter, true to her anonymous upbringing as the fifth of nine children, ducking behind her music. But now, on There’s No Home (Gnomonsong), she asserts herself, delivering hypnotic works with one-word titles (“Babies,” “Vultures,” “Sleep”). Initially her haunted warbling, with its trippy flourishes, seems mannered almost to the point of parody. But as her songs emerge, so does a certain atmosphere: Hunter’s world, fuzzy and amorphous, seems to unfold within a cotton ball. There’s a vague edginess to it all, but prevailing is a fluid tranquillity where disembodied guitars, violins, and spectral harmonies drift alongside Hunter’s melodic creations.
Kelly Willis
Rykodisc
For Austin chanteuse Kelly Willis, it’s been five years and three children since she last released a solo album. Trading Dobros for diapers didn’t dull her instincts; Willis’ sump- tuous voice retains a hunger that elevates even the most pedestrian works. And she has certainly encountered her share of those: From her Tony Brown–produced Nashville days to her current earthier country rock, Willis hasn’t always matched her powerhouse voice to strong material. Translated From Love (Rykodisc), in fact, was initially planned as a covers album. Yet with help from producer Chuck Prophet and writers such as Jules Shear, half of her new tunes are originals—and they shine. “Stone’s Throw Away,” “Losing You,” and “Sweet Little One” are vintage Willis tracks of warm, endearing pop. There are a few surprises too: Willis covers Iggy Pop (!) with backup from the Gourds, and “I Must Be Lucky” rocks startlingly hard. Still, these moments come off as flirting. As in the past, several tracks seem stuck on middle ground—not quite country, not quite rock. Willis wants to bridge both camps, but a nudge in either direction might not be such a bad thing.
Ramesh Srivastava
From the moment Voxtrot first put its driving Europop on the Internet, the Austin band—and its frontman—became a sensation. After a series of EPs, the group has finally, five years after forming, released its first full-length album, Voxtrot (PlayLouder).
The band started as a hobby, something for you to do when you were home from studying in Scotland. Yeah, we started just as a way to record a few songs. It wasn’t supposed to be an actual band band.
What changed? We acquired a manager, James Minor, about two years ago. You know Emo’s, in Austin? He used to book it, so he gave us our first show down there.
After three EP releases, did you enjoy recording an album? No, not really. I did like it, but it was more hard work than I’d anticipated.
For a band that owes a lot of its success to music blogs, you seem curiously ambivalent about them. I don’t really read them. I like the fact that they’re free and that they help spread music. It’s nice that blogs support us, but I just think that the Internet culture is pretty disposable. You can be the flavor of the month, but I don’t know if that’s really loyalty.
Voxtrot: Ramesh Srivastava, published by PlayLouder.
