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© St. Petersburg Times, published March 16, 2003
CURSIVE, THE UGLY ORGAN (SADDLE CREEK) The indie rock world's eyes have been on the seemingly sleepy town of Omaha, Neb., since critics went gaga last year over Bright Eyes'Lifted Or The Story Is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground. Omaha's rich soil -- and the tiny independent label Saddle Creek -- keeps churning out bands, such as Cursive and Rilo Kiley, that tackle a hundred emotions in a handful of songs, using the basic tools of rock 'n' roll: guitars, drums and grudges.
Cursive does it loudly, Rilo Kiley in country-tinged songs that feature wonderful singer Jenny Lewis backed by french horns, cello and, at times, a boy choir. (Treat yourself to the recent The Execution of All Things).
The Ugly Organ tracks the bitter breakup of Cursive leader and resident genius Tim Kasher and his wife. The tunes are all about a man destroyed by love, and if that sounds depressing, the songs aren't. There's an odd sort of energy to The Ugly Organ, on Butcher the Song and Art Is Hard, with all the nervous, off-kilter time signatures and Kasher's wails.
Remember the first time your heart was broken? The feeling is exposed wounds and red flesh. The pain is agonizing, and yet, had you ever felt more alive? Gretta Cohn's somber cello ropes us in when we can't take anymore, slowing things, taking us off the adrenaline hate kick, thank goodness.
The Ugly Organ is all about a man with a crushed heart. It's Kasher tripping, not so merrily, frequently drunk, fueled by venom and lousy revenge sex, down the tightrope of the broken-hearted. A
-- GINA VIVINETTO, Times pop music critic
ERASURE, OTHER PEOPLE'S SONGS (MUTE) Erasure's plinkety-plink 1980s electropop is about as relevant these days as a good pair of leg warmers. As cool as the duo sounded in that decade, Erasure's charm doesn't translate well in this age of undertalented, overproduced, so-called pop music. Yet, Erasure has a certain nostalgic charm. It just takes a moment or two for the senses to recall that simplicity is still good.
Andy Bell's soaring, impressive vocal range, paired with Vince Clarke's keyboard work -- Clarke gave Depeche Mode its early, poppiest sound -- made the duo a staple of the dance club charts starting in the mid 1980s.
Now, on Other People's Songs, the two try their hand at material written by other artists, with varying results. A snoozy rendition of Peter Gabriel's Solsbury Hill (a classic, though not one of Gabriel's best) kicks off the album. An over-the-top torch song version of Can't Help Falling in Love reminds us that the song has never been done better than it was by Elvis.
You can't fault Erasure for trying to be cutting-edge once again. With respectful homage to the dawning of the electronic age, Video Killed the Radio Star, with MacinTalk robovoice and Clarke's appropriate bleeps and knob-twiddling, is the album's most perfect cover, certainly capturing the era and sentiments that launched the duo's career. C
-- KRISTI SIEGEL, Times correspondent
CAT POWER, YOU ARE FREE (MATADOR) Chan Marshall is masterful at hiding. Whether behind the moniker Cat Power -- under which she records her critically lauded music -- or just her shaggy bangs, dodging spotlights at her often schizo, tense concerts, the notoriously stage-shy Marshall projects a haunting fragility that makes her music heartbreakingly irresistible.
You Are Free, her best album yet, has an impressive guest list, including Pearl Jam's Eddie Vedder and the Foo Fighters' Dave Grohl. Marshall's disaffected vocals and inventive musicianship mark each song with a listless beauty, and the material feels very candid.
Freedom in all its (mostly unattainable) forms marks the album, casting shadows over Marshall's fragmented narratives and her tragic characters. Only brooding Marshall could deliver Shaking Paper's "a good thing is coming" refrain. Beautiful despair abounds on many tracks, including album opener I Don't Blame You.
Marshall doesn't shy away from rockers. Free borders on staccato with Marshall's clipped offering of "Don't be in love with the autograph / just be in love when you scream that song / free."
Marshall's reputation as a potent, original musician is assured with her wistful balladry. Names, a chilling song chronicling domestic and sexual abuse, shines in eerie, elegiac brilliance. A
-- BRIAN ORLOFF, Times correspondent
BENNY GREEN AND RUSSELL MALONE, JAZZ AT THE BISTRO (TELARC) Benny Green and Russell Malone received kudos for their first duo performance two summers ago at the North Sea Jazz Festival in Holland. So Jazz at the Bistro, recorded live over four nights at the eponymous St. Louis nightclub, amounts to a promise fulfilled: a warm, joyful meeting of two ambitious artists, each turning 40 this year and each deserving wider appreciation. Green, influenced by Oscar Peterson and Bobby Timmons, and perhaps best known for his work with the late Ray Brown (to whom the album is dedicated), is equipped with serious piano chops, as on Paul Chambers' Tale of the Fingers. The two handily navigate the tune's fleet bebop lines in unison, alternately soloing and comping on the quick-moving changes.
This hourlong set includes standards, original compositions and a few odd pop choices -- the Carpenters hit Sing, Roberta Flack's Killing Me Softly and the Bee Gees' How Deep Is Your Love? -- that come off as cute but not essential.
We'll vouch for much of the rest, though, including a shimmering reading of Benny Carter's When Lights Are Low; an infectious take on Cannonball Adderley's bluesy Wabash, a showcase for Malone's unaccompanied chordal incantations and single-note runs and bends; and an inventive pairing of John Coltrane's Moment's Notice and Lazy Bird. Two impressive versions of Billy Strayhorn's The Intimacy of the Blues suggest an alternative title for this collection by virtuosos: The intimate art of the duo. B
-- PHILIP BOOTH, Times staff