what i've been listening to

By Robbie on September 6, 2011

Well, this is awkward. I've been listening to exactly what you'd think a fellow like me would be listening to.

Ron Sexsmith, Long Player Late Bloomer. The mixing and mastering on this record are pretty remarkable, even by the standards of the first-tier technicians Ron routinely works with, and his vocal instrument is at a new height of imagination and sly power. Each of his many records has had a few TKO songs -- words and music perfectly aligned to move the heart of any English-speaking person. On this one, they're called "Get in Line" and "Michael and His Dad."

Fountains of Wayne, Sky Full of Holes. Though it grieves me to add to the speculative chatter about labels that infects pop-music commentary, it is always interesting to me to listen for the effects, if any, when a band I like moves from a major to an independent. How much of the beloved sound derived from the innate personality and talents of the band, and how much from the pressure-cooker environment and largesse of the corporation? Here Mr. Collingwood's nasality is a little nakeder; some of the songs don't move with quite as much Predator drone aggressiveness from 0:00 to 3:45 but are allowed to stray off-leash (I leave it to you whether songs are more like missiles or housepets); Mr. Schlesinger's bass lines are likewise freer than I remember hearing from him; and the commercially hypercompetitive, needles-pinned recording approach of songs like "Maureen" is not much in evidence. Contrary to the length of the preceding sentence, the net effect of these developments is modest; and this band, which I think has always worn its shrewdness unabashedly, has again come up with a set of songs confidently within its trademark brand, that of sad-faced and self-deluded everymen driving down I-95 with Yesterday and Today playing on the radio. "Richie and Ruben" is a very witty diagnosis of an American disorder that has waited to be written for a long time. Also, Mr. Porter's guitar tones throughout are delightful.

Jody Stecher and Kate Brislin, Return. Another old favorite, doing once again the thing they've proved themselves to be peerless at. In this case, the thing is finding and outfitting for male-female duo "old country" (the word "folk" is so icky) songs that are obscure and surprising even to reasonably dedicated country-song aficionados, harmonizing with love for music and each other, and making a flattop Martin parlor guitar sound like a lonely mooing calf.

Larry Cordle, Pud Marcum's Hanging. Just when you think there's no more room in your collection for one more record called Pud Marcum's Hanging here comes this one. Larry is one of the elite craftsmen revered by all of us who labor in the vineyards of Hank, Haggard, Loudermilk, Tillis, Miller, Braddock, and so on. "Sometimes A Man Takes A Drink" is an Olympic-quality performance in every department.

Tony Macmanus, Ceol More. Thanks to Kathleen Keane for introducing me to this eloquent player. Great reversioning-for-guitar of Mingus's "Goodbye Pork Pie Hat."

Smog, Dongs of Sevotion. My friend Adam heard me enthusing over Bill Callahan, whose music I didn't really know about until 3 years and 3 albums ago, and gave me this. I guess Bill used to call himself "Smog," and who wouldn't. I have a dim memory of some dislikable person at the Old Town School in the early 1990s making me listen to Smog in order to teach him the guitar changes, and I think I sloppily projected his personality onto the music he liked. Now I hear it as apprentice music for the more fully realized Callahan music of right now. (Rhetoricians, is there a word for that kind of "now"-symmetrical construction?) The languid, low-fi musical settings are cool but I don't think they quite do justice to the particular strengths of Bill's voice as later recordings do -- or maybe it's that he improved and deepened as a singer over the years. Lyrics are still killer though. I think he's one of a handful of about one who could be called a poet or a songwriter with equal accuracy.