Tag: folk

Was Blind Man’s Zoo the Last “Real” 10,000 Maniacs Record?

by KevinLeave a Comment on Was Blind Man’s Zoo the Last “Real” 10,000 Maniacs Record?

The Best Record of 1989: Day 52: #35 10,000 Maniacs, Blind Man’s Zoo vs. #94 Michael Penn, March

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a quick look at records from 10,000 Maniacs and Michael Penn

Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d occasionally write some of these up.

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks are always appreciated.

KA—

I’ve mentioned it before, but I’ve always associated 10,000 Maniacs’ very specific, very literate sound with universities. And not just any university, but somewhere like Dartmouth (sorry, Hurricane fans). It’s a sound that, to me, has always felt more at home on a campus with a vibrant field hockey program than on the Billboard charts.

The short version of these earlier records is this: a bit of well-styled jangle pop coupled with Natalie Merchant’s gorgeous voice and thoughtful lyrics. That’s the upshot. The downside is that these often leave you feeling like you’re being lectured to. Merchant can come across like that neighbor who’s usually pretty cool, but will also tut-tut you for not composting enough or not having one of those “In This House We Believe…” signs1. Nice enough and well-intentioned, but it can wear thin.

Cueing this up, I wondered if I’d been remembering them in too harsh a light. After all, “These Are the Days” is a song I associate with travel and adventure, thanks to reading Jeff Greenwald’s “The Size of the World.” Maybe I’d been wrong?

The opening track, “Eat For Two,” is about teen pregnancy, so well, no. But that slick, made-for-radio formula is as delicious as I remember it.

Speaking of which, this is the last record that could be classified as janlge pop, and even here, it’s a stretch in places. This is really the jumping-off point for the more refined pop style of Our Time in Eden and everything that came after.

“Trouble Me” is a fine, if unremarkable, bit of ear candy, and I’m starting to wonder (again) if I’m being too harsh on the band. Those doubts vaporize pretty quickly with “You Happy Puppet.” Musically, it’s right up my alley. It’s polished with the sort of sunny grooves I buy in bulk.

And then I make the mistake of pulling up the lyrics, and well:

How did they teach you to be just a happy puppet dancing on a string?
How did you learn everything that comes along with slavish funnery?
Tell me something, if the world is so insane,
Is it making you sane again to let another man tug at the thread that pulls up your nodding head?

Same story with “Headstrong”…

…and “Poison in the Well”…

(sigh).

Stylistically, it is a great transitional record that does well to tie the two on either side of it together. With the benefit of hindsight, the signs are also all there that 10,000 Maniacs is increasingly becoming a Natalie Merchant backing band. Our Time In Eden would seal the deal, even if the timelines don’t match up perfectly.

A couple of songs feel like they go out of their way to be inoffensive (in the same way that same neighbor might start every criticism with something like “I feel like…”, but overall it’s not enough to sink the record. That title goes to the preachy and overbearing lyrics. Blind Man’s Zoo is a solid effort, but one best consumed in small doses.

I’ll be honest here: here’s everything I know about Michael Penn: His brother is Sean Penn (RIP Chris Penn). He’s married to Aimee Mann, and No Myth was inescapable when it came out. That’s it. He was almost a predecessor to Duncan Sheik, if you remember. All signs point to him being an artist I’d be more familiar with, but here we are.

All signs also point to him taking himself too seriously, but I don’t get that impression when I listen to the first few tracks. The ride takes us through a few folk-y ballads and a couple of up-tempo numbers. It’s all well done, but I’m not getting a particularly strong sense of FOMO here. It’s fine that I’ve waited 36(ish) years to hear this…

…and then we get to the closer, “Evenfall,” and man, talk about ending on a high note! This is a rollicking good time, with barrel piano and an ornate section that’ll have you moving in your chair. Now that’s how you close an album! Where was this in ’89?!

My vote: I have a feeling a lot of people are in the same boat as me here (10,000 Maniacs aren’t bad, have only heard the one song by Penn). I will vote mainly on name recognition and Merchant’s voice. I’m still in the bottom third of the rankings in this challenge, and the first rule of getting out of a hole is to stop digging. My bracket pick and vote will both be for Blind Man’s Zoo.

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

Grebo vs. Folk? 1989 Truly Had Something For Everyone

by KevinLeave a Comment on Grebo vs. Folk? 1989 Truly Had Something For Everyone

The Best Record of 1989: Day 47: #23 Indigo Girls, Indigo Girls vs. #106 Jesus Jones, Liquidizer

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Jesus Jones and Indigo Girls

One of the fun things about this challenge is revisiting records I haven’t listened to since the first Clinton Administration and learning new things. It does a cynical heart good.

For instance, I had no idea that “Grebo” was a genre, with bands like PWEI, EMF, and Ned’s Atomic Dustbin. It also turns out I’m a fan of it. Who knew?

There’s also Jesus Jones- another band I listened to early and often back in the day, and then forgot about. Besides Right Here/Right Now (which you can hear on pretty much any ’90s hour on the radio), listening to anything else is something bordering on an annual event. Usually, that involves either “Trust Me” (from Doubt) or “Never Enough” (from this record) popping in my head, me thinking “Oh yeah, I should totally play that!,” doing so, and then forgetting it happened for another 364ish days.

So Grebo was a short-lived genre, and each of these tracks feels very much of that (narrow) place and time. The good news is that it was a thrilling time, and the sound here reflects that; it’s kinetic, busy, and confident. The songs all kinda sound alike, but it’s okay because the song rips. Check out “Move Mountains,” “Never Enough,” “All the Answers” and “Info Freako” if pressed for time.

Like PWEI, the sound can be summed up thusly: throw a bunch of genres (industrial, techno, power pop) in a blender. Set to puree. Add samples to taste. Serve immediately.

Mike Edwards’s full-throttle vocals can get old, but they seem oddly endearing in the context of the time. There’s maybe a “Yeaaaah!” too many in every song, but that’s okay. It’s been long enough between listens that I don’t mind it today. To my ear, the record itself holds up, but at least some of that is down to the influence of spins.

Nevertheless.

“Right Here Right Now” casts a long shadow and unfairly saddles the band with the one-hit-wonder tag. Liquidizer itself was unfairly cast aside, a victim of Doubt’s success. An innovative record at the time, it deserves more credit than it gets

This is Jesus Jones on the way up before peaking with Doubt and then crashing out in spectacular fashion with the god-awful Perverse. Liquidizer is their least polished and most alternative, and it’s all the better for that rawness.

Going from the kinetic chaos of Liquidizer to the soulful folk of Indigo Girls felt the way it does when you exit the freeway and go from 70-80 mph back to 35. I really should’ve given things a minute to settle instead of immediately jumping in.

The upside is that the first song is the sublime “Closer to Fine.” It’s also the only song I can credibly claim to have heard before this morning. Like Jesus Jones, the duo of Amy Ray and Emily Sailers have been unfairly cursed with one outsized hit overshadowing much of, well, pretty much everything they’ve done since.

This is their major label debut. It has a basic (not derogatory) sound and an earnestness worlds away from Liquidizer’s winking cynicism. Ray and Seiler’s voices blend beautifully, and the guitar work is clean and out front.

I was happily surprised to hear Michael Stipe providing backing vocals on “Kid Fears.” It turns out the other 3/4 of R.E.M. show up on “Tried to be True,” which unsurprisingly became my favorite track on the reocrd.

This record was more intense than I’d assumed it would be. There’s an occasional edge I wasn’t expecting. It’s nice to hear some drums, ya know? Overall, it’s a solid record, top-heavy with an opener that is still their biggest hit. One could do worse than having “Closer to Fine” as your legacy. But like Jesus Jones, Indigo Girls have made an impact far larger than you’d assume if only looking at their chart record.

My vote: My heart is all in on Liquidizer. My head thinks that people will only remember “Right Here, Right Now,” and “Closer to Fine,” and will choose the latter thinking it’s a better look. My bracket pick is for Indigo Girls but I will be once again voting against my own interests and going for Jesus Jones.

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 28

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 28

#37 Tracy Chapman, Crossroads vs. #92 Emmylou Harris, Bluebird

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Tracy Chapman and Emmylou Harris

Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d be occasionally writing some of these up.

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks are always appreciated.

KA—

If it felt like Tracy Chapman came out of nowhere with 1988’s “Fast Car,” it’s cause, well, she did. We loved the song (and record), but we really liked her backstory of busking while in school, etc. We love us a well-constructed pop song, but we really love the story of someone hitting it big- whether on the baseball field or in music. Rooting for the underdog is in our DNA.

Her self-titled debut checked a lot of boxes.

Love song? Check (“Baby Can I Hold You”).

Protest song? You bet (“Talkin’ About a Revolution.”).

And then, of course, there’s “Fast Car,” about a couple down on their luck—you know, a couple of underdogs. Of course, we liked the track! Those are just the singles; the rest of the album is equally solid.

In 1988, we were ready for Chapman’s voice and talent for storytelling.

So how’d she follow that record up? By making one suspicious of the very trappings of wealth and fame that had just arrived at her feet. I can imagine record execs listening to this with furrowed brows, wondering what to do. There’s no obvious single here. Carried on the momentum of her debut, it sold well enough, and those who bought it were rewarded with a record as in-depth and soulful as her first. There might not’ve been a blatant hit here, but this is no sophomore slump.

Indeed, the album sees Chapman tackling some of the same prickly subjects as before: social (in)equality, politics, and her own relationships. “Born to Fight” is a highlight, as are the title track and “Subcity.”

Crossroads is the sort of record that takes a few spins to soak in, but it’s grown on you before you know it. It showed both that Chapman was a force to be reckoned with and that she was going to stay true to herself and her style.

How Emmylou Harris manages to sound both like a songbird and someone who has seen some things is a magic outside the scope of this blog. That said, both are true no matter what (or whose) material she’s signing. The world got its first real glimpse of her as the singing partner of Gram Parsons on his Grievous Angel record (yes, there was Gliding Bird before that, but let’s be real; it’s not good). As for Grievous Angel? You should totally own it- at least buy a digital copy.

And grab one soon. It’ll change your life.

At any rate, something happened between the Gliding Bird and 1975’s Pieces of the Sky. Maybe it was Parsons (I mean, just listen to “I Can’t Dance!), maybe something else- but whatever forces collided, this is for all intents and purposes where things start- and where they get good.

Fast-forward 15ish years, and Emmylou’s a bona fide star with at least a fistful of good records and a couple of S-tier ones to boot. She’s sung her own songs, lent her voice to the work of others, and sang with others (Trio with Dolly and Linda). There have been peaks and valleys.

Then, we get to Bluebird, which is a both of both. And maybe that’s its downfall. It’s trying to be earlier Emmylou while matching the style of the day. She can still knock ‘em out of the park, though. Witness her take on John Hiatt’s “Icy Blue Heart.” If it doesn’t move you, check your pulse. There’s no shortage of heartbreak here, no lack of being hard done by. Again, by this point, Harris has been through it. Even “Heartbreak Hill” is deceptively upbeat.

So there’s a couple of standouts and a bunch that are, well, kind of forgettable. Not even so bad as to stand out. Just midpack anodyne stuff.

To be clear, Harris could sing a grocery list and make it sound good, but we’re judging records here, and this one just isn’t that strong. There’s a reason a lot of lists of her discography slot this in mid-pack or worse.

Pick a couple of tracks for your playlists and put your money toward grabbing a copy of Grievous Angel instead.

Bottom Line: Two singers with one-in-a-million voices. Neither record is the hallmark of their respective careers, but when looked at as a whole, Chapman’s Crossroads is the better of the two.

My vote: Both my bracket pick and my vote will be going toward Chapman.

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—