By Chris Gray
By Corey Deiterman
By Jef With One F
By Chris Gray
By Rocks Off
By Rocks Off
Yet, Teatro still works wonderfully as a concept album about love and its inevitable heartbreak. The first words Nelson utters are from 1962's "I Never Cared for You," a forgotten gem from his Nashville days: "The sun is filled with ice and gives no warmth at all." It's a cold-hearted kiss-off delivered like a love letter. Later, he offers, "I broke her heart so many times that now at last I've broken mine," resurrecting the 36-year-old "I've Just Destroyed the World." Nelson is his own atmosphere, so it's too bad Lanois commits the producer's ultimate sin by thinking he's more important than the songs. There's an astonishing record somewhere here, buried beneath Lanois's garbage. (***)
-- Robert Wilonsky
Elliott Smith's melancholy "Miss Misery," from the Good Will Hunting soundtrack, was nominated for an Oscar last year. And like the authors of that film, Ben Affleck and Matt Damon, Smith's rising status comes from an indie perspective, where the idea of credibility favors fine craftsmanship over the standard star-making formulas.
On XO, his fourth solo album and first for a major label, the Dallas-born/Portland-bred Smith continues to expand the parameters of the coffeehouse confessional. A lush, unabashedly pop outing, XO takes full advantage of Elliott's production sidekicks, Tom Rothrock and Rob Schnapf. Rothrock and Schnapf are also known for helping another neo-folkster flesh out his sound -- a wacky, Grammy-winning hip-pop phenom by the name of Beck. Whereas Beck required guidance to bring his disparate musical ideas closer to earth, Smith's own world needed expanding. And for once, on XO, his songs sound like they were meant for ears other than his own.
It seems that with each album, Smith has grown less hesitant to expose himself and his commercial urges. As such, his music has become more confident. His characters continue to wallow in an unsavory quagmire of misunderstandings and miscommunication, but XO slathers on the strings and keyboards, sweeteners that draw listeners to the songs, if not so much the songwriter himself. But then, Smith has always lent a certain distance to the idea of intimacy. (*** 1/2)
On the intro to "Placement for the Baby," the sounds of rain splattering against a window and a wailing infant are gently caressed away by Davenport's soothing, opulent voice. It's only one example of how the former Brand New Heavies vocalist's mostly self-produced solo debut isn't afraid to take risks, incorporating unexpected colors into its bold portrait of R&B's uncertain future.
The singer, who fronted the finest material the Heavies had to offer, clearly draws on her tenure with that groove-heavy multicultural unit to lend substance to N'dea Davenport. But she's been a session singer for a diverse range of artists -- including Madonna, Jim Lauderdale, Fishbone, Luscious Jackson and Roger Waters -- and those experiences didn't hurt either. From the fat N'awlins bounce of the Rebirth Brass Band on "Getaway" to the slippery soulful delight of "Bring It On" (one of four tracks produced by Dallas Austin), Davenport explores the spectrum of several R&B-based genres without ever committing wholly to any one of them. "Save Your Love for Me" drips with a slow, jazzy pretext that buoys a timeless torchy alto. There's one for the dance floor freaks ("No Never Again"), and she even flirts with rock and roll on a cover of Neil Young's "Old Man."
All of which amounts to a spunky call to action from a woman who's not afraid to mix and match musical elements and heritage, so long as it gets the job done. (*** 1/2) -- Melissa Blazek
W.C. Clark's record company is calling him the "godfather of the Austin blues scene," and for once, music industry hype is closer to truth-in-advertising than simple salesmanship. Clark began playing publicly at age 16. By the time Stevie Ray Vaughan recruited him for the Triple Threat Revue, the immediate precursor to Double Trouble, he'd already done a lengthy stint with Baytown soul great Joe Tex. Since then, Clark has been one of Austin's most pervasive live performers, influencing almost everyone, past and present, on the scene with his seasoned sensibilities and easy-rolling blues approach.
While his popularity as a live act remains secure, it's only in recent years that he's finally been able reach a wider audience with a long overdue series of excellent albums. The new Lover's Plea adds to and enhances that growing catalog. Here, Clark is ably supported by a cast of Austin all-stars, including Antone's guitar ace Derek O'Brien, keyboardist Riley Osborne and the former Double Trouble rhythm section of drummer Chris Layton and bassist Tommy Shannon (now the backbone of Storyville). But the spotlight is squarely on Clark, who seems to relish the attention.
Despite his considerable blues pedigree, Clark is, at heart, a soul man, more comfortable with Al Green than Albert King when push comes to shove. Just to make sure everyone is aware of the fact, he delivers a fine and funky take on Green's "I'm Hooked on You" with Mark "Kaz" Kazanoff spicing up things on tenor sax. But it's his original material and the story behind it that makes the album special. Last year, an accident on the road killed Clark's fiancee and his drummer while leaving him in serious medical straits. Now fully recovered, Clark has dealt with the aftermath in classic blues style on "Are You Here, Are You There?," a powerful and poignant creation that personalizes things with a loving look back to move forward. It's the sort of hard-earned blues wisdom that elevates Lover's Plea into a rare realm contemporary blues' flashy youngsters can only hope to glimpse. (*** 1/2)