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squire and brimstone, urban porch |
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Written by Keith Sabella
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Wednesday, 01 November 2006 |
“Hymn Noire” might be one way to describe Jolie Holland’s song “Old Fashion Morphine” from her second album, “Escondida.” It’s a dark transformation of the traditional hymn, “Old Time Religion,” sung by someone who is familiar with the church down the lane, but took a left at the crossroads and ended up on Beale Street hanging out with William Burroughs instead. After leaving “The Be Good Tanyas,” of which she was a founding member, the Texas native set out on her own (www.jolieholland.com and www.myspace.com/jolieholland). With the critical success of her self-released first album “Catlapa,” Anti Records, whose artist list includes Tom Waits, Joe Strummer and Nick Cave, among others, picked up Holland. She has gone on to become something of a cult phenomenon. Old time hymns, jazz and stark blues reverberate in Holland’s world like the ghosts of music past, conjured by a haunted voice with echoes of Maybelle Carter, Memphis Minnie and Billie Holiday. “Black Hand Blues,” from “Catalpa,” sounds like it was written back when the blues was born and Holland sings it like she was there. “Springtime Can Kill You,” the title track from her latest release, is a summation of Holland’s themes. An upbeat, even joyful tune (complete with whistling solos), it is a complex and rich, poetic work about traveling down back roads, longing for love, the passing of time, and the need to go out and live life before it’s too late. Maybe springtime can kill you, but it’s better to get out and smell the lilacs and honeysuckle. Bring some of Holland’s music with you when you go.
On the surface, the songs of Oakland, Calif., resident Sean Hayes (www.seanhayesmusic.com) have the sound and feel-good feeling of Jack Johnson, but listen carefully and you’ll find something deeper. “Boom Boom Goes the Day,” the opening track from Hayes’ latest release “Big Black Hole and the Little Baby Star,” is a good example. It’s a bouncy, folky brass band number that begins with casual observations of walking through the city and ends up as a cultural critique of America as Babylon, à la Bob Marley. This movement from the particular to the universal is a common theme with Hayes. We see it again on “Same God,” a bittersweet folk song with a slow walking tempo that moves through memories of a lost relationship to a mystical reflection on connections and oneness and God. “3 a.m.” is little more straightforward. It’s a dark, Appalachian (Hayes is originally from North Carolina) bluesy song about desire and despair as it hits you in the wee hours of the morning. Through all of his songs, Hayes’ sweet, high, sometimes gravelly voice rides smoothly over the musical currents, interpreting the lyrics with consummate phrasing and expressing his uniquely backwoods urban style.
Milosh, a.k.a. Mike Milosh (www.myspace.com/milosh), of Toronto, writes electronic music that is smooth, soulful and ethereal. His recent album “Meme” is an electronic top 10 on iTunes, and it’s no wonder. Milosh’s music is mature, intelligent and evocative. It’s obvious on songs like “The City” and “In These Arms” that Milosh is an accomplished musician who uses technology as a palette, not a crutch. His voice adds just the right touch as it floats above the richly textured and warm atmosphere of sounds, creating a feeling that is romantic, but not the least sentimental. This is mood music, but finely crafted, to be enjoyed in its own right or as a vehicle to create an ambiance that anyone would enjoy.
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