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[ SPIN CONTROL ]Jeff Vrabel (STAR)(STAR)(STAR)
JACK JOHNSON, "IN BETWEEN DREAMS" (BRUSHFIRE)
Hawaiian native Jack Johnson's breezy, earnest featherweightness is both his greatest asset and the mightiest weapon wielded by his detractors; the fans who made his previous two records million sellers graciously lull themselves into a seaside submission with his island-kissed melodies, while scoffers pass him off as a lower- carb version of John Mayer, as if such a status is physically achievable.
For his part, Johnson has used his third record to address this schism by doing ... er, precisely what he did before, which is gently tying the most palm-tree-swaying melodies into six-string- and-shuffle-drum musicianship so spare and unassuming that it might as well be an afternoon trade wind. And though a few of Johnson's "Dreams" come closer than ever to being '70s AM radio caricatures, the spare, and, it should be noted, geographically legitimate sensibility in Johnson's vibes -- the sweetheart ballad "Better Together," the bounding "Never Know" and the pointed crack at TV nation "Good People" chief among them -- keep him several paces ahead of the wimpy male-songwriter pack he's been lumped in with.
Jeff Vrabel
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DAVE DOUGLAS, "MOUNTAIN PASSAGES" (GREENLEAF)
With "Mountain Passages," trumpeter Dave Douglas launches his new label, Greenleaf ( which he runs with Chicagoan Mike Friedman of Promonition Records) in stellar fashion. Fronting an intriguing new band, he steps away from the fusion and hip-hop influences that have informed his last few records to deliver a recording of melodic riches and antic rhythmic maneuvers, tender lyrical reflections and freewheeling exchanges.
The group, Nomad, includes clarinetist Michael Moore, who is based in Amsterdam; cellist Peggy Lee and drummer Dylan van der Schyff, from Vancouver, and East Coast tuba player Marcus Rojas. Modern devices in hand, they dive into the European classicism from which Douglas has derived such pleasure in bands such as his Tiny Bell Trio, making waltz figures sing and Debussy-like colors darkly glow.
"Mountain Passages" has an insistent appeal that has been missing from some of Douglas' recent efforts, as strong as they are. A great trumpeter, he charges the air with virtuosic trills, fat-lipped phrases and brassy effects, but the songs aren't designed to set him off as a soloist as much as another brush adding bold strokes to a lustrous overall sound.
Lloyd Sachs
Note: Dave Douglas and a different version of Nomad (than heard on the CD) will perform Monday at the Cultural Center, 78 E. Washington.
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AESOP ROCK, "FAST CARS, DANGER, FIRE AND KNIVES" (DEFINITIVE JUX)
If you've ever wondered what's the deal with that "best recording package" Grammy (won this year by Wilco's otherwise underlauded "A Ghost Is Born" -- nice to see some critical props given to those guys), you'd be well-advised to check out this EP from hulking underground kingpin Aesop Rock; packaged with the disc is a perfectly bound 80-page book of Aesop's lyrics that spans his Def Jux career from "Float" to "Knives."
It's a small part beautifully designed keepsake (sort of like Pearl Jam's "Vitalogy" liner notes, only not nearly as irritating) and a big part "download this, suckers" from the bright cookies at the label. A hip-hop release -- an EP, at that -- with smart and worthwhile extras? What brand of mad future is this?
As it turns out, "Fast Cars" sports gobs more than a printed version of Aesop's tar-thick wordplay (not much of which is made more revealing by reading his thundering, tumbling, prose). It's a distilled, groovier version of 2003's "Bazooka Tooth" produced mostly by Aesop and frequent collaborator Blockhead, and it does its thing in not much time. The disc opens with "Fast Cars," on which Aesop thunders through his verses like a screed-spouting mammoth with a worn-down thesaurus ("Tomorrow's extracurricular punching bag will finger Daddy's widow maker out of a brown lunch bag"), before applying the same brutally abstract lo-fi funk on the God-stuff diatribe "Holy Smokes" and the war banger "Winners Take All." Shut down the torrent on this one -- it's well worth the trip to the record shop.
Jeff Vrabel
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REX HOBART & THE MISERY BOYS, "EMPTY HOUSE" (BLOODSHOT)
On its fourth album, the aptly named Rex Hobart & the Misery Boys continue to explore heartache and romanticize pain. Based in Kansas City, Mo., this retro-leaning country quintet shines due to Hobart's songwriting, which combines honky-tonk melodies with the carefully crafted poetry of a barstool psychiatrist.
Hobart's artistry harkens back to the '60s, not only musically, but also in the way his lyrics examine the human psyche. One of his anti-heroes dislikes the new mirror hanging in his ex-wife's home; the reflection reminds him of his failure. Another character is dumped by his clandestine lover and then wrestles with ways to hide his ensuing heartache from his wife. In "Let's Leave Me," a protagonist urges his gal to forget about his old, foolish self, which he depicts as a separate person.
Rather than cobbling the musical elements into a boisterous, murky wave of sound, the unfettered production of "Empty House" allows the listener to hear the space between the various instrumental parts. Solomon Hofer's pedal steel work, in particular, is an indispensable component of these sad narratives.
The Misery Boys have enabled Hobart to fashion an album that's equally suitable for drinking, dancing or quiet contemplation.
Bobby Reed
Note: Rex Hobart & the Misery Boys will appear Friday at FitzGerald's, 6615 W. Roosevelt in Berwyn.
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EDDIE TURNER, "RISE" (NORTHERNBLUES)
You might expect Cuban-born, Chicago-reared guitar hotshot Eddie Turner to incorporate Afro-Cuban rhythms and electric Windy City blues into his music, and he doesn't disappoint on either count.
But the founding member of Zephyr and longtime axman for Otis Taylor clearly spent a lot of time listening to Jimi Hendrix, who seems to be his primary influence on Turner's debut disc for NorthernBlues.
Not the strongest vocalist around, Turner makes up for it with his lightning-fast, psychedelic-drenched licks. And with the great Kenny Passarelli -- who also plays bass, keyboards and pocket trumpet -- at the helm, Turner shows just enough instrumental restraint to let his songwriting skills shine through.
Jeff Johnson
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JEFF PARKER, "THE RELATIVES" (THRILL JOCKEY)
For a guy who announced his presence with such verve when he joined New Horizons Ensemble in the mid-'90s, guitarist Jeff Parker has developed along surprisingly modest lines. Contributing spare, helium-light touches to Chicago's attention-grabbing "post-rock" instrumental bands, Tortoise and Isotope 217, he sometimes seemed to belong to his own secret society. And his first efforts under his own name were subdued to a fault.
But on "The Relatives," his first album for Thrill Jockey, Parker opens up. Leading a quartet including electric pianist Sam Barsheshet, bassist Chris Lopes and drummer Chad Tay-lor (and with Tortoise auteur John McIntire at the board), he moves in and out of rhythmic concepts and coloristic schemes to deliver music that can be strikingly attractive without losing its sense of worldly mystery or minimalist cool.
Unlike so many jazz versions of soul oldies, his splintery, swinging take on Marvin Gaye's "When Did You Stop Loving Me, When Did I Stop Loving You" is a happy reinvention.
Parker will never be an electric electric player; he's a sly texturalist with ties to Jim Hall and Bill Frisell. But few guitarists make you sit up and take notice the way he does.
Lloyd Sachs
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MICHAEL BUBLE, "IT'S TIME" (WARNER/REPRISE)
It is indeed time for an album like this one. A mixture of big band, swing, jazz and a subtle touch of pop , the Canadian swingmeister with the velvety vocals cuts loose with a vengeance on everything from a steamy "Feeling Good" and delightfully uptempo "A Foggy Day in London Town" to a totally jazzed "Can't Buy Me Love" (yes, the Beatles) to a gentle bossa nova spin on "Quando Quando Quando" (a beautiful duet with Nelly Furtado).
Buble has crafted a formidable singing style, part Sinatra, part Martin, with -- stay with me here -- a pop edge that takes its cue from a very young Stevie Wonder.
In a world where Tony Bennett is pretty much the last bastion of "the crooner in the spotlight," it's wonderful to hear a young, passionate voice keeping the torch burning.
Miriam Di Nunzio
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ROLANDO VILLAZON, "GOUNOD & MASSENET ARIAS" (VIRGIN CLASSICS)
In the unending search for the next prize singer (i.e. "The Fourth Tenor"), Mexico's Rolando Villazon definitely deserves the gold medal. If he were to be transported back somehow to the world of Wagner's "Die Meistersinger," he would definitely elbow aside the mere Walther von Stolzing.
Here, however, Villazon is championing the art of the French aria, with a recital devoted to largely lesser known works by Gounod and Massenet. Accompanied by the Orchestre Philharmonique de Radio France, conducted by Evelino Pido, Villazon displays the kind of emotional intensity that faded out with end of the golden age of Jussi Bjoerling, Franco Corelli and Tito Schipa. Villazon's ringing tones thrill throughout, but especially on "Source delicieuse" from Gounod's "Polyeucte" and "Ah, parais!" from Massenet's "Le Mage."
Laura Emerick
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