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Album reviews: Velveteen Rabbit, Shana Falana, Wished Bone, Yukihiro Takahashi, and Grace Potter

Velveteen Rabbit

Velveteen Rabbit (Hozac)

Rising from the ashes of NYC power poppers The Jeanies, Velveteen Rabbit do up the ’70s glory days of glitter rock in a stripped-down way. They don’t try to match the theatrical majesty of Bowie and Roxy Music—especially vocally—but still they deliver plenty of exhilarating boogie via deliciously sleazy guitar solos and songcraft that holds up even on the mellowest tracks such as the Chris Bell-like “Guitar.” Velveteen Rabbit’s DIY glam is well worth a spin. [7.5]

 

Shana Falana

Darkest Light (Arrowhawk)

Shana Falana is a veteran of the ’90s San Francisco rock underground and the early-’00s Brooklyn nü-garage moment, and Darkest Light, with its churning guitars and dreamy melodies, sounds like it could have dropped at any point in the last 25 years. The album bursts out of the box with the buoyant shoegaze opener “Go Higher” and the Galaxie 500-meets-Sonic Youth rocker “Everyone Is Gonna Be Okay,” but then goth and stoner rock come to the fore, and it’s almost like watching Falana switch cafeteria tables midyear, ditching the smart arty kids for the brooding, ineffectual rebels. [6.5]

 

Wished Bone

Sap Season (Wished Bone)

Currently based in Los Angeles, Ohio’s Ashley Rhodus records as Wished Bone, and second album Sap Season is a deceptively simple collection of low-fi songs that flit from the country-ish “Saucer Eyes” to the Mazzy Star-lite “Cops” to the Velvets-y “Pink Room.” Rhodus’ twee voice is apt as she ascribes stoned significance to life’s banalities (“Who put the butter in the fridge? / You know I don’t like it cold”). The musical dressing often saves the day—when slide guitars and horns show up, they’re like those friends in the room who smile, listening, and then drop perfect remarks. Which, unfortunately, makes Rhodus the one whose faux-naif observations threaten to tip from charming to nattering. [7.0]

 

Yukihiro Takahashi

Saravah! (Wewantsounds)

When Roxy Music played Wembley Arena in 1975, the unlikely opener was Osaka’s Sadistic Mika Band, whose drummer Yukihiro Takahashi would co-found legendary electronic progenitors Yellow Magic Orchestra in 1978. Recorded just before YMO’s debut and featuring YMO bandmates Haruomi Hosono and Ryuichi Sakamoto, Takahashi’s Saravah! is a fascinating document— disco, bossa nova, and lounge rock filtered through Japanese whimsy (Exhibit A: the leadoff cover of “Volare”). Takahashi’s vocals are a bit sober to be sexy, but they’re easygoing, and the musicianship on Saravah! transcends irony and camp (Exhibit B: the nasty Skunk Baxterish guitar solos on “La Rosa” and “Elastic Dummy”). [7.8]

 

Grace Potter

Daylight (Fantasy)

With her 2004 debut, Grace Potter was heralded as Vermont’s answer to everyone from Norah Jones to Bonnie Raitt to Janis Joplin, which implies more versatility than she delivers on Daylight, her third album. Possessor of an undeniably potent voice, Potter can’t resist opening the throttle on the back end of each song, and the vocal peaks start to feel predictable and superficial—it’s singing as pressure-washing. Potter’s lyrics are more nuanced, as she nicely unpacks her messy nest of feelings in the wake of her recent divorce and subsequent betrothal and motherhood. And there are rare respites, like the Patsy Cline-ish “Repossession” and Potter’s gorgeous B-3 coda on “Please.” But a little more daylight would have been nice. [6.0]

Categories
Arts

Album reviews: Lynda Dawn, Lindstrøm, Babe Rainbow, Drew Holcomb & the Neighbors, and Brittany Howard

Lynda Dawn

At First Light (Akashik)

The first sounds on Lynda Dawn’s debut EP—a fat keyboard bass line and synthetic handclaps and claves —come straight from the ’80s glory days of electrosoul. And as it turns out, so do all the other sounds, including the U.K. singer’s sultry, gospel-tinged vocals. On At First Light Dawn plays it straight for 20 minutes of unrepentant quiet storm smoothness, and if nothing jumps out as a radio single or a world-beating hook, there’s also nary an unpleasurable moment. (Well, the breakdown in “Theme for Cha-Cha” suggests Return to Forever interpreting the “Price is Right” theme song—but that actually kinda sounds good too, right?) [8.3]

 

Lindstrøm

On a Clear Day I Can See You Forever (Smalltown Supersound)

Meantime, Lindstrøm points back to early-’70s electronic experimentation with the inspired On a Clear Day, as the prolific Norwegian producer ditches laptops for vintage synths on four extended instrumental tracks that are less dancefloor and more chill-out room. “Really Deep Snow” could be an outtake from Tangerine Dream’s hallucinogenic masterpiece Phaedra, and even if Lindstrøm’s compositions and improvisations don’t dissolve your ego, they’ll still feed your head. [7.7]

 

Babe Rainbow

Today (30th Century)

The hirsute surfer boys from Australia kick out more breezy jams on their third diverse, companionable album in three years. Today features the fetching acoustic guitar ditty “Butter” and the Donovan-does-tropicália “Morning Song,” and gets juicy with the shaggy Fela Kuti homage “Electrocuted” and “The Wedge,” which rides billowing easy-jazz piano chords into a chopped and screwed spoken section that’s like some impossibly friendly Butthole Surfers track. The nature boys do stumble, notably on the elegiac but torpid closer “For Your Eyes Only” (not a cover), but overall, Today goes lightly and sweetly. [7.6]

 

Drew Holcomb & the Neighbors

Dragons (Thirty Tigers)

Drew Holcomb and the Neighbors are on a mission: help some white people forget their problems. Dragons leads off with “Family,” and if there’s fleeting wryness (“Going on vacation / on the credit card”), there’s a lot of Family Circus imagery too—laughing in the rain, kicking off shoes to dance—all chanted over an overproduced mutant square dance/Irish jig. It’s facile, it’s corny, and yikes, it’s a high point. “End of the World” matches horrible pop schmaltz to its fatuous message: It’s the end of the world, so smoke, drink, party. There’s yet more benighted pap—Holcomb puts rich and poor in the same boat to let them know “You Want What You Can’t Have,” and offers “you got this!” bromides on the title track, which, by the way, is literally “The Gambler” slowed down with different lyrics. Know when to run, y’all. [4.9]

 

Brittany Howard

Jaime (ATO)

Alabama Shakes presented so coherently as a band that it almost obscured lead singer Brittany Howard’s singular talent (as did Howard’s throwaway spin-off group Thunderbitch, for different reasons). But with Jaime, Howard doesn’t just throw down the gauntlet, she slaps your face silly with it, and basically puts her own face on a mural next to D’Angelo, Erykah Badu, Prince, and even Nina Simone. And her band admirably keeps up—but hey, her band is Robert Glasper on keys, Shakes bassist Zac Cockrell, and jazz luminary Nate Smith (a VCU grad!) on drums. If there’s a head-scratching element of Jaime, it’s Howard’s predilection for concussive production, which would obliterate weaker tunes and voices. But Howard’s voice is a shelter in the storm, and on delicate numbers like “Stay High” and “Short and Sweet,” she’s a revelation. [8.7]