By: Tobin Bennison
Article Category: CD Reviews Leave a Comment
Bob Dylan
Christmas In The Heart
Sony; 2009
Is nothing sacred? The problem with Christmas In the Heart isn’t that it’s… a collection of Christmas tunes sung by Bob Dylan, for crying out loud, nor that it effectively kicks a doorstop under what should be a deadbolted portal into an exclusive, peppermint-scented room. (What’s next? Bono tackling Handel’s Messiah by his lonesome? Prince’s Christmas In My Pants?). No, the problem with this album is that despite its Mad Lib-inspired idea, it’s actually pretty damn good. Nowhere near the karaoke novelty it first appeared to be and not as solemnly reverential as you might alternately expect, Dylan treats these beloved standards (and a few klezmer/zydeco-styled comedic numbers) as part of the homegrown, populist lore that’s influenced everything he’s done. And if calling the whole thing “Christmas In The Heart” sounds suspiciously like a forewarning of their unimpeachable worth protecting them from Dylan’s increasingly Kermit-like moan, the title is only meant to strengthen the idea of each tune’s adaptability and universal appeal. Through Dylan, these songs become, once again, part of the true public domain — of kindergarten holiday programs and Vienna Boys Choir recitals; of neighborhood caroling and Dean Martin specials. Once you get over the obvious sonic incongruities of hearing him warble “Adeste Fideles” and “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” Christmas In The Heart settles down nicely with you beside the fire. Jolly good fun. — T. Bennison
JJ Grey & Mofro
Orange Blossoms
Alligator; 2008
If you’re in the mood for something a little down-home, a little dirty, a lot of sweet and a ton of fun, you need to stop and smell the Orange Blossoms. The fourth release from Jacksonville group Mofro, headed by JJ Grey, is just the ticket to warm up your soul during the Florida winter. Already well known for their “swamp funk” sound and their themes of life in the coastal South, this album brings their solid reputation to the next level by adding in a set of blues ballads, including “Dew Drop,” “I Believe (In Everything),” and “She Don’t Know.” A central feature of Mofro’s sound is the hip-moving, foot stomping crooning of Grey, whose almost gospel-like voice is guaranteed to have you closing your eyes in reverence. Complex and pungent, Orange Blossoms will get your joint jumping (see “On Fire”) and your heart strumming (see the title track). Straddling the line between blues greats like Muddy Waters and blues contemporaries like The Black Keys, Mofro strikes a pitch that local Brevard residents will recognize as on par with our own treasure, Josh Miller. — V. Bormann
Edith Piaf
“La Vie En Rose” Original Soundtrack
EMI Classics; 2007
“La Foule” made me fall in love with Edith Piaf. A circus-inspired and regal sounding song about being thrown into a dance with a man just as quickly as a maddening crowd takes him away, it represents the jovial element of her work. At once haunting and beautiful, violent and delicate, strong and feminine, Edith was a complex contradiction and her prolific career demonstrates her inner self in equal measure. The “La Vie En Rose” soundtrack is a collection of her greats. From the infamous title track (which has been covered by artists such as Louis Armstrong, Cyndi Lauper, and Donna Summer) to the war song “Heaven Have Mercy” and the passionate “Padam Padam,” we experience the songs that play through and with her life. To listen to her music is to understand her existence, even if one doesn’t understand a word of French. Her work can be navigated by emotion so eloquently that speaking her language is secondary to just listening and allowing yourself to feel its effect. This soundtrack is as much her biography as the movie from which it derives, and to experience Edith is to be let into the life of one of the world’s most unique singers. — V. Bormann
Martin Newell
The Wayward Genius of Martin Newell
Cherry Red; 1999
The Greatest Living Englishman is more polished and concise, and A Summer Tamarind more recent, but The Wayward Genius of Martin Newell does a better job of introducing England’s unofficial songwriter laureate to a forgivably ignorant public. Writing in the vein of Lennon and McCartney (“Blue Swan”), Davies (“Miss Van Houten’s Coffee Shop”), and early Townshend (“The Popular Girl”), Newell builds wonderfully melodic, poetic vignettes aroundthe peculiar banality and eccentricity of English life. Culled from the fruits of a prolific career that began in the early ’70s and briefly blossomed in the ’80s with The Cleaners From Venus and The Brotherhood of Lizards, these songs — by turns amateurish and impeccably produced — show that Newell wields and uncommon command of melody and insightful lyricism. Though slightly famous in Britain as a memoirist, erstwhile TV presenter, and weekly fixture in The Sunday Express poetry section, Newell the musician is largely ignored among his countrymen due in part to his understandable disdain for the mainstream recording industry. But it’s this very intransigence that makes Martin Newell so worthy of discovery and appreciation. Encumbered with the overwrought treatments the bigwigs would surely suggest, songs like “Julie Profumo” and “Girl On A Swing” might make adequate hits, but only at the expense of losing their enchanting luster. At their simplistic best (“Clockwork Train”; “Jangling Man”), these are songs a child could master in a few days — and charming enough to make them want to. — T. BennisonCD
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