CD Reviews March

By: D. Colburn & T. Bennison

Article Category: CD Reviews Leave a Comment

This month’s CD review includes: Morrissey, Young Dubliners, Mike Ness and Johnny Cash.  Feel free to comment and let us know what you think…

Morrissey
Years of Refusal
Lost Highway; 2009

Misery certainly loves company. As much as fans have wanted poor, dear Morrissey to find fulfillment, their very ardor won’t allow it. What else, after all, is there to love about him but his magisterial loathing for everything that threatens to brighten his day? But one of the most misunderstood things about Morrissey (and a myth he wonderfully won’t lift a finger to dispel) is that his oft-invoked miserabilist credo supports the baser, dourer-than-thou tendencies of Gothic idols like Trent Reznor or Marilyn Manson. It does support plenty of moaning, but it was never done with such soothing compassion as on the recordings Morrissey made with The Smiths, and remarkably, on 8 solid solo albums after their dissolution. In his most focused and fervid recording since 1994′s Vauxhall and I, Years of Refusal is rife with the incisive wit and ferocious ire that’s made Moz one the most revered, copied and reviled musicians of our time. It’s a testament to his artistry that when he sings “Oh, something is squeezing my skull/Something I cannot describe/There is no hope in modern life” that he can still draw from youthful wrath (he’s 50) to make a statement about mental anguish that’s as pithy as it is resonant. The painful reckoning behind “That’s How People Grow Up” and the urgent “All You Need Is Me” show that Morrissey’s melancholy isn’t the self-suffocating variety his pupils have misread, but one that loosens its hold with each inward look, and as heard throughout the defiant Years of Refusal, every venomous spit outward. – T. Bennison

Young Dubliners
Saints and Sinners
429 Records; 2009

There’s really not much to distinguish the Young Dubliners from the glut of other Celtic Rock bands playing today. In fact, if you take away the perfunctory fiddling you get on new tracks like “Howaya Girls” and “Caroline,” there’s not much to even distinguish them from any of the other workmanlike rock bands of the mid-’90s…like, say, The Rembrandts. Or Crash Test Dummies. That you hear all of this on Saints and Sinners, their 8th album, is somewhat worrying. Since forming in 1988, much of their potential appeal has accrued a generic, inoffensive glaze, earning them supporting spots with the likes of Jonny Lang, Great Big Sea, and Collective Soul, and fans liken their live performances to those of Phish and the Dave Matthews Band. To be fair, founding members Keith Roberts and Paul O’Toole are native Dubliners, but the rest of the band’s American blood seems to dampen rather than kindle the passion struggling to emerge from songs like “Back Seat Driver” and “In The End.” What you get then — apart from token trad knees-up “Saoirse” — is some exceptionally indifferent music, its only Irishisms essentially plugged in like so many O’Doul’s neons. And while that at least indicates that the pub is open, it doesn’t necessarily promise a memorable night out. If you’re not in the mood for the bluster of Flogging Molly’s or the glass and vomit-strewn Pogues’ and simply want a tavern that offers a few rollicking singalongs, then meet me at the Waterboys’ just down the road. – T. Bennison

Mike Ness
Cheating At Solitaire
Time Bomb; 1999

Get your DA in order, slip on your beat-up Docs and let the lake pipes on the chopped Chevy rumble because we’re talking about Mike Ness, who’s been cool since before it was cool to be cool. Ness formed Social Distorion back in 1978 and has proudly flown the punk rock flag ever since, but with a subtle country influence, adding a bit of a rockabilly sound to the band’s recordings. In 1999, Ness launched a solo career that focused almost exclusively on bringing his fondness for old school country to the forefront while keeping the distortion to a minimum. Cheating At Solitaire is a compilation of tracks that shed a whole new light on Ness’ talent affording him more creativity within a slightly different genre. Here, he’s s accompanied by the likes of Brian Setzer (Stray Cats) and Springsteen (who knew he was a big Social D fan!) on several tracks. The second track, “Don’t Think Twice,” a vintage Dylan song, is infused with Ness’ personal flavor complete with standup bass and his trademark gritty vocals, giving this folky tune a more unique feel that lies somewhere between Johnny Cash and the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Ness really endears himself to straw chewers everywhere with “Rest of Our Lives.” With its classic three-chord rhythm and slide guitar, it’s probably one of the more country-sounding tracks on the album, but as with all of Solitaire’s tunes, Ness gives it his cool touch of greasy hair, tattoos and sideburns. So if you thought you knew Mike Ness, check out Cheating At Solitaire. Just don’t forget your Brylcreem. – D. Colburn

Johnny Cash
Super Hits
Sony; 1994

Its 1977 and my dad’s drab green F150 is cruising through the rural countryside of northern New Hampshire. My brother and I are trading subtle punches on the bench seat. “Grab that tape and put it in,” says the old man, and I oblige. The 8-track spins up and I hear the familiar riff that starts Johnny Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues.” When I listen to Johnny, not only do I think about my dad (he actually looks a little like him), but I hear the simple guitar riffs, basic drum beats and modest lyrics that give a sense of what makes his music so penetrating, so inspiring and so influential to so many people. You see, Johnny was an ordinary guy; he drank, he smoked and cavorted, and then he made a living singing about it. In many ways he was “everyman” and a lot of people can relate to him. Listen to “Sunday Morning Coming Down” and tell me you haven’t been there. Now no discussion about Johnny Cash would be complete without mentioning “A Boy Named Sue.” Few people know that song was actually written by Shel Silverstein and while the lyrics are clever, its Johnny’s hearty performance that makes it the classic beloved by all. The great thing about Johnny’s music though, is that he can make it all sound so damn romantic and glamorous. Listen to “One Piece At A Time” and you can imagine this ordinary, blue-collar guy secretly building the car of his dreams. That’s kind of what music is all about though, isn’t it: escaping for a minute or two to lose yourself in someone else’s dreams. – D. Colburn

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