Monthly Archives: January 2015

Willie Nile: If I Was a River

WillieNile_IfIWasARiverA New York rocker trades his guitar for piano

Willie Nile’s artistic renaissance continues unabated. Having championed rock ‘n’ roll guitars on his last few albums [1 2 3], he now strips himself down to singer-songwriter roots with his own piano serving as the primary backing for these intimate vocals. The piano brings an entirely different mood to the album than did the guitars, and while Nile’s songs have always been deeply personal, he sings here with introspection instead than proclamation. Rather than readying songs for a stage and an auditorium and an audience, these feel as if they were written to be sung directly to each listener, one-on-one.

Nile is an expressive pianist, and the Steinway Grand on which he recorded the album is an old friend from earlier days at New York’s Record Plant. His affection for this musical partner is detailed in the album’s promotional video, but even more so in the conversation he has with the keys. The piano’s sustain hangs in the air more moodily than that of an electric guitar, and recording without a drummer (or even a click track), frees Nile’s singing to follow the ebbs and flows of his songs. The lyrics display Nile’s social consciousness, particularly in the opening track, but also the way in which he uses ambiguity to leave himself open to interpretation.

“Lost” could be sung either by a lover without his mate or a lapsed believer seeking his forsaken God. Similarly, “The One You Used to Love” could be a call to an ex or a renewal of faith. Nile writes of love and war, lullaby wishes, and on “Lullaby Loon” a sarcastic loathing of just about every kind of music. With the bulk of a full band stripped away, the album becomes a duet between Nile and the piano, supplemented by light touches of guitar, strings and backing vocals. Trading guitar for piano impacts not only the playing and recording, but also the writing and singing, which keeps the songwriting familiar, but the expression new, unexpected and entirely welcome. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Willie Nile’s Home Page

Mason Summit: Loud Music & Soft Drinks

MasonSummit_LoudMusicAndSoftDrinksSophisticated California pop from Los Angeles prodigy

Los Angeles pop-rock is returning with a vengeance. Matthew Szlachetka’s recent Waits for a Storm conjures Jackson Browne and Bob Welch, and Mason Summit’s second self-produced album suggests Brian Wilson’s Pet Sounds era, alongside the ‘80s East Coast work of Chris Stamey. That’s heady company for a 19 year old, but Summit’s something of a prodigy (and a prolific one, at that), laying down electric and acoustic guitars, bass and organ alongside an impressive assemblage that includes producer John McDuffie’s pedal and lap steel, Zander Schloss’ bass, Lynn Coulter and Shawn Nourse’s drums and Carl Byron’s keyboards.

Summit’s got a sweet voice whose high, keening notes may remind you of another aficionado of L.A pop, the Explorers Club’s Jason Brewer; when Summit double-tracks himself, it may remind you of Elliot Smith. Again, impressive company, but unlike most teenagers, Summit’s deeply schooled in a broad range of music and sufficiently self-reflective to have something to say. Brian Wilson had to think back on his teen years from his early 20s, but Summit’s in the thick of puzzling out relationships, developing political ideals and sorting through newly discovered passions. He writes in an authentic teenaged voice that’s sincere and surprisingly polysyllabic. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Mason Summit’s Home Page

Matthew Szlachetka: Waits for a Storm to Find

MatthewSzlachetka_WaitsForAStormToFindSinger-songwriter’s solo debut recalls the hey-day of ‘70s L.A. canyon music

After seven years fronting Northstar Session, this Los Angeles singer-songwriter has begun a solo career that favorably echoes the ‘70s pop-rock of Jackson Browne and Bob Welch. The opening “Wasting Time” quickly evokes the former’s “Running on Empty” with its loping tempo, buzzing steel and cascading piano, but it’s Szlachetka’s extraordinary voice and the breadth of his songwriting that are the most arresting elements of this album. The productions are modern and crisp, but exude the warmth of mid-70s L.A.’s canyons, and Szlachetka’s originals reach beyond pop and rock to folk, soul, blues and touches of country.

Szlachetka’s years as the lead singer of a band gave him a great sense of how to fit his voice into an arrangement. Together with his co-producers George Johnsen and Joe Napolitano, he’s assembled a band that augments the guitar, bass and drums with Wurlitzer organ, piano, lap and pedal steel, slide guitar, accordion, harmonium and a few horn and string charts. Wisely, the arrangements are never crowded, and Szlachetka is never overshadowed; Fender Rhodes and baritone sax add soul to “Little Things in Life Can Show You Love,” and the organ and horns  of “I Can’t Look at Your Face” frame Szlachetka’s blue mood.

The relationships in these songs are often combative, but surprisingly free of bitterness, whether pleading for a second chance or simply moving on. Szlachetka is fond of boxing metaphors (“waiting for the bell to go off” and “dodging all the punches”), but he’s even more fond of music. He decries a friend who sold out to (or was burned out by) those who “got their fingers in you when you were young,” provides a view from the road with “You’re Home to Me,” and revels in the magic powers of music in “Carry Me Home.”

The latter provides something of a thesis statement for this album, as Szlachetka explicitly acknowledges the musical influences that have implicitly shaped him. Shaped not just his music; shaped his whole life. This will resonate with those for whom music is more than just background sound, those whose live have their own musical soundtracks, and whose personal chronologies and geographies are inextricably tied to songs, records, shows and bands. Szlachetka’s sentiment is full of heart and respect, and builds a fresh set of songs from roots planted in fertile canyon soil. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Matthew Szlachetka’s Home Page

Jack Clement: For Once and For All

JackClement_ForOnceAndForAllA country music legend says goodbye with one last look at his songs

It’s hard to think of something that Cowboy Jack Clement didn’t do in the music industry, and do well. He wrote, produced and published hit songs, he discovered and nurtured talent, he built a Nashville studio that became both a going concern and an important social hub, and he recorded three charming albums. This, the last of his three albums, was released shortly after his 2013 passing, and its posthumous timing and all-star lineup turns it into a celebratory wake.

A wide swath of Clement’s friends turned up to help with this album, including Vince Gill, Dierks Bentley, Leon Russell, Emmylou Harris, Rodney Crowell, Buddy Miller, John Prine, Gillian Welch, Dave Rawlins, Dan Auerbach, Jim Lauderdale, Bobby Bare and Duane Eddy. But even with that cavalcade of stars, it’s Clement’s slightly warbly voice and the deeply written original songs that are the album’s biggest stars. There’s a wistfulness in Clement’s writing that’s wonderfully magnified by his understated performances, as well as this album’s placement as a capstone to his career.

Many of these songs date from the 1960s, and will be familiar from earlier incarnations, but at 82, Clement sang with a perspective much broader than he held when writing forty years earlier. Producer T Bone Burnett and his gathered musicians arranged the songs in ways that set them free of their ‘60s origins. The tempo of “Got Leaving on Her Mind” isn’t as bouncy as Mac Wiseman’s original single, but it’s a lot more urgent than Nat Stuckey’s later hit, and the folk production of “Miller’s Cave” revives the song from its earlier countrypolitan productions.

In returning to his earlier songs, Clement seems to have found them both familiar and new; the living of his long life having deepened his own feelings for what he wrote decades earlier. The romantic losses of “Baby is Gone,” “Just Between You and Me” and “Let the Chips Fall” are leavened by a lifetime of changes, and the nostalgia of “I’ve Got a Thing About Trains” and “Just a Girl I Used to Know” is strengthened by additional decades of absence. It’s always a treat to hear a songwriter revisit their earlier work; all the more so for a songwriter who so rarely recorded, and whose last work so fully reflects the values he lived and wrote. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Jack Clement’s Home Page