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Slim Cessna's Auto Club (Alternative Tentacles) Jello Biafra's Alternative Tentacles imprint gets plenty of credit for championing left-field punk and leftist revolutionary rhetoric, but the label deserves a medal from the No Depression crowd for giving gospel hillbilly outfit Slim Cessna's Auto Club a proper outlet. The band's A.T. debut, Always Say Please and Thank You, smoked 98 percent of the alt-country albums that came out in 2000 with its original blend of yodeling blues and fiery Baptist brimstone. The recent reissue of the Auto Club's long unavailable eponymous effort from 1995 gives folks a chance to hear leader Slim Cessna working with an entirely different incarnation of the group. While Cessna's soulful, keening yodel and the confluence of gospel and Southern Gothic elements that mark Always Say Please are apparent on the older material, a number of significant differences stand out. The earlier recording is a more straightforward, tear-in-your-beer country affair. Traditional numbers such as the lonesome, pedal-steel driven opener "Hold On" and a surprisingly jaunty take on the murder ballad "Willow Garden" get a peculiar Auto Club twist with creative arrangements and additional lyrics. The original tunes on the album find Cessna sharing vocal and songwriting
duties with singer-multi-instrumentalist Frank Hauser Jr. Hauser proves
himself to be an able musician (his accordion playing carries the hard-drinking
waltz of "Kristin and Billy" and the hungover lament of "My
Goodness Me") and a solid songwriting foil for Cessna. However,
his overly affected baritone tarnishes a couple of tunes and renders
the two songs he sings lead on damn near unlistenable. Luckily, Cessna
handles most of the vocalizing on the recording, delivering weepers
("Cryin' on My Pillow," "What'll I Do?") and more
raucous ditties ("Fifteen Years," "Champagne Like a Lady")
with equally charismatic aplomb. The original Auto Club never quite
reaches the manic fever pitch of Cessna and company's later work, but
this first album still provides an entertaining and illuminating look
at the group's formative years. (Dave Pehling) For the opening track of his new mix, veteran S.F. DJ Tom Thump chose Valerie Etienne, whose liquid tones, starting slow and languid then moving into a rolling rapid-fire, serve as the perfect introduction to a mix that covers much of the territory once encompassed by "acid jazz." Panatone: Warm is not just a reheated leftover from the days of corduroy flares and dodgy goatees. It provides a blend of jazz and house that moves the body and mind without any regard for today's trendy labels. As manager of collectors' heaven Groove Merchant, Thump is in a prime position to take advantage of the worldwide harvest of electronic jazz. Instead of the usual suspects from West London or Germany, we're treated to the oh-so-smoove atmospheric funk of "Two Hours" from Russia's Tetris and "Dig Dig Dang," a swirling confection of acidic keys and catchy vocal snippets courtesy of Latvian loungemeisters Sea Cushion. The mix's false step comes from Italy with Suntrust's monotonous house rework of Antonio Carlos Jobim's classic "How Insensitive" and their tired invocations of the Paradise Garage. (Would the dance music community please let that exquisite corpse rest in peace?) But Thump immediately regains his footing, dropping the inimitable bebop vocals of Mark Murphy, who joins Tenth and Parker to urge the listener to "Kool Down." Panatone: Warm isn't riding any waves of media fuss about the
next big thing: in fact, Thump could have played some of these songs
at Mushroom Jazz in '94 without the bouncing masses missing a beat.
But, to rely on a cliché, good taste never goes out of style.
Tom Thump plays Fri/21, Luna Teca, Oxygen Bar, S.F. (415) 255-2102.
(Peter Nicholson) Amy Allison would be a sad girl indeed if her life were as down and out as the failed lovers and born losers she writes about on this album. Take the "Listless and Lonesome" woman who once "lived only for" a guy who's now "nowhere to be found," or the gal on "New Year's Eve" who's stuck alone while "everyone's gone to the party." Luckily, Allison's songs have a sense of humor as devilish as the grin on the man's face in "Everybody Thinks You're an Angel." The music that Allison, daughter of jazz-blues singer Mose, sings is country of the cry-in-your-Chablis variety think Kitty Wells, Hank Williams, and shards of Tammy Wynette. The minimalist arrangements are, for the most part, steel guitar weepy and slowed down almost to the point of drowsiness. Topping off the album's languid tone is Allison's thick, nasal twang, which is somewhere between the childlike meanderings of Victoria Williams and the mournful wail of Jimmie Dale Gilmore. A few songs stray from the sounds of sadness, such as "It's Not
Wrong," with its mix of lust and romantic longing, and especially
the fast-paced, rocked-out "Shadow of a Man." Mostly, though,
the mood here is deliciously down-and-out, an album to sink into when
you're stuck alone with a leftover glass of warm, day-old Champagne
and nowhere else to go. (Kurt Wolff) Is there any better way to celebrate the war against terrorism than by listening to the new Wu-Tang Clan album? "Good thing we brought the glock," growls the RZA on the chorus of Iron Flag's hidden track as a drummer pounds out a menacing backbeat. Anyone familiar with Wu-Tang Clan's near decade-long discography will note their obsession with street violence and worldwide conspiracy. But the terrorist attacks on Manhattan's World Trade Center and our subsequent war against Afghanistan have yielded an unexpected reaction. "America / Together we stand, divided we fall / Mr. Bush, sit down, I'm in charge of the war!" raps Ghostface Killah on "Chrome Wheels." True, Ghostface Killah is a notorious hothead, and the RZA counters with "I'm up in the Wu library / Reading Malcolm's By Any Means Necessary" on "Uzi." But what about the album cover that re-creates Joe Rosenthall's famous photograph of U.S. Marines raising the flag at Iwo Jima during World War II? It's not surprising to find Wu-Tang Clan is proud to be American in spite of its espousal of Five Percenter philosophy and belief in a cornucopia of conspiracy theories if one considers that the group's ongoing critique of U.S. policies against its black population is a domestic dispute best uninterrupted by foreigners like Osama bin Laden. Iron Flag's centerpiece, the glorious ""Babies," finds Ghostface Killah, Raekwon, and Genius telling stories about young men and women undone by drugs, police corruption, and societal neglect. Ghostface Killah raps his verse from the perspective of a disillusioned black cop; meanwhile, Genius resigns himself to the plight of the impoverished, mustering just enough optimism to say "For some, the only way out is music and sports / That's why I keep the rhymes just as fly as a shot." In Wu-Tang Clan's eyes "Soul Power" means possessing a healthy distrust of the government while reveling in good ol' American hip-hop. (Mosi Reeves) |
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