Got A Beef? Sure ‘Nuff ‘N Yes I Do

As T.S. Eliot portentously opined: April is the cruelest month.

Apparently someone once pulled an April Fools’ Day joke on him too.

What’s really sad is I saw this one coming almost before I finished reading it, so my burgeoning excitement was tempered by the lesser but wiser angels of my cynicism. A quick Google check confirmed the farce: there is no Captain Beefheart reunion in the making. Stuff like this is, alas, way too good to ever be true:

The legendary Captain Beefheart, whose last foray into the music industry was in 1982, has recorded a new album and will be reconvening his Magic Band to tour behind it…The opening act is to be P.J. Harvey…in recent years, P.J. Harvey and Beefheart somehow struck up a correspondence and established a kind of confidante-mentor relationship. There’s no official word from either artist’s camp whether or not this had anything to do with the good Captain’s re-emergence, but certainly Harvey’s encouragement and support didn’t hurt.

And while I would pay money to see the good Captain anytime, anywhere, I would be delighted to simply know that he is doing well and enjoying life. For Christ’s sake, for all the joy he has provided to so many of us, the least Fate can do is smile on the man and let him find ease and comfort in his old(er) age. Hell, while we’re at it, let him be happy. Reunion or not, I’m quite content to return to Beefheart’s albums as often as possible. And really, what better day to celebrate Don Van Vliet than April Fools’ Day?

The Black Keys doing an incredible version of Beefheart’s “Grown So Ugly” (also on their great Rubber Factory album):

Don Van Vliet: I Love You, You Big Dummy (To myself I say this):

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Dan Auerbach: Keep It Hid (Popmatters.com review)

Dan is the Man

Is anybody not yet on board? The conductor is certainly making it difficult to ignore him. In early 2008 he, along with his co-conspirator in the Black Keys Patrick Carney, released Attack and Release, another gem in their growing catalog. Later last year they dropped a concert DVD Live at the Crystal Ballroom, a document that further cements their status as a band to be reckoned with. And now, only three months down the road, Auerbach rolls out his first solo venture. Keep It Hid could hardly be a less appropriate title considering that the peripatetic singer/songwriter has done anything but hide this past year.

What’s the story behind all this superhuman productivity? Auerbach has stated that, quite simply, he never stops working. Equal parts driven and inspired, it made all the sense in the world for him to build his own studio. Akron Analog, named after his hometown and preferred method of recording, is where he began assembling the rough cuts, mostly written during recent tours, into the songs that came together as Keep It Hid.

In addition to singing, guitar playing and his role as producer, Auerbach tackled drums, percussion and other instruments including glockenspiel. To further flesh out the sound, he recruited friends and family. Bob Cesare, also a multi-instrumentalist, handles the additional drum duties, and guitarist James Quine (Auerbach’s uncle, and first cousin of late underground guitar hero Robert Quine) chimes in. This all hands on deck approach results in an aggressive yet nuanced recording, which manages to take the greasy edge off the Black Keys’ signature sound without sacrificing any of its bluster.

Keep It Hid is not a retreat from the sonic explorations Auerbach undertook on Attack and Release, it is an expansion of them. The songs stretch out with that familiar multi-tracked guitar base, augmented throughout with the often subtle employment of organ, banjo and bass. This work unquestionably signals a step forward in Auerbach’s rapidly evolving style. Listening to Keep It Hid, it is easier to understand why (and how) Auerbach was allegedly writing songs with (and for) Ike Turner in 2007 (when Turner abruptly died, Attack and Release turned into a proper Black Keys album).

There is familiar territory covered here: the Delta drones of Junior Kimbrough (from Chulahoma), the electrified country blues stomp from Thickfreakness, and the more experimental harmonic departures from Rubber Factory, Magic Potion and, of course, Attack and Release. But Keep It Hid takes a deeper dive into a variety of source material, ranging from Motown to bluegrass. Seriously. And lest that sound a tad too facile or all-encompassing a description, it might help to expound upon Auerbach’s astonishing versatility. With many musicians, it’s too often an overly generous bit of grasping to discuss the manner in which they infuse a variety of disparate elements into their work—particularly when those elements serve more as superficial window dressing to signify unearned street cred, or actual facility. Listening to Keep It Hid, it is impossible to ignore the myriad touches (sometimes sneaky, mostly masterful) Auerbach employs to embellish his songs: there are snatches of psychedelic guitar (think Nuggets era garage rock), elemental—and bastardized—British blues (itself initially an homage to the ‘50s Chicago scene), and the sing-a-long-hair mini anthems of the ‘70s.

Auerbach never seems to be straining himself or merely appropriating other, signature sounds just for the sake of doing so. The music he has so obviously, and voraciously, absorbed makes him who he is, pure and simple. For instance, on “Mean Monsoon” his voice is a chemical snarl that seems a bit like Peter Green filtered through early, dirty Junior Wells. The music is reminiscent of vintage Yardbirds, complete with tambourine tapping and chorus-crashing bongo flourishes. “When I Left the Room” features his now patented paranoid snarl, propelled by guitars that seethe behind a banjo (!) march. It is not unlike the best Black Keys material, with all the obvious and not-so-obvious influences on the surface, unfolding into something startling original. His voice, which at times is able to convey a pained vulnerability offset by a gruff, even defiant resolve, has improved with each album. On “Whispered Words”, possibly the best thing Auerbach has achieved to this point, all of his skills are on display: the opening build-up is Motown without the horns, with subdued guitar weaving around his plaintive vocals. As the song gathers steam, suddenly it takes a detour from Detroit and heads south into Stax territory, sans the crackerjack studio musicians. It is astounding that these very unique and even sacrosanct sounds are being incorporated in a fashion that manages to feel unforced and even organic.

This last observation warrants repeating: Auerbach is not aping classic riffs so much as they seem to sweat out of his pores. It’s all up there, in his head, and he is channeling it into his own vision in a manner that is consistent and convincing. A few other highlights include the gorgeous “When the Night Comes”, which features Jessica Lea Mayfield—who also appeared on the last track from Catch and Release. On “Real Desire” and “My Last Mistake”, Auerbach offers up future Karaoke material, while “On the Prowl” and “Heartbroken, in Disrepair”, he delivers the goods in a way that few people would want to tackle, even in the privacy of their own car. Finally, keeping with his tradition of ending albums on the right note, he leaves us with a sublime acoustic coda, fittingly entitled “Goin’ Home”. Auerbach, of course, is already home, and has never really left: he remains loyal to Akron but has long since staked claim on more extensive territory.

In sum, Dan Auerbach was responsible for helping make one of the better albums of 2008, and Keep It Hid is already a contender in 2009. Should we go ahead and call him the current King of the Hill? Based on all available evidence, he’s that guy, and the competition for his crown is not particularly close at this time.

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The Black Keys Live at the Crystal Ballroom [DVD]

http://www.popmatters.com/pm/review/66823-the-black-keys-live-at-the-crystal-ballroom/

The Really Big Come Up

Last year was a very good year for the dynamic duo dwelling from Akron, Ohio. It was an even better year for the band’s growing fan base—many of whom have every right to wonder: Are the Black Keys the best band around right now? The evidence can be found on five full-length efforts and one near-perfect EP (Chulahoma, a tribute to former Fat Possum labelmate, the late Junior Kimbrough). The evidence is also abundant in its live performances: This is boot-stomping, butt-kicking rock and roll with equal doses of raunch and refinement.

Although a comparison likely has been mentioned and addressed elsewhere, the Black Keys, being a two-person outfit consisting of a drummer and a guitarist/singer, call to mind another beloved band from another blue-collar town, the White Stripes from Detroit. A few years ago, the Black Keys might have considered themselves lucky and been quite content to labor in the better-known band’s shadow. Those days are over. The White Stripes should be delighted to have its next album draw favorable comparisons to Attack & Release, the Keys’ latest and on the very shortlist of this year’s best albums.

The strengths and inherent limitations of a two-person band are impossible to conceal in a live setting. With the White Stripes, drummer Meg White performs her part mostly by clearing a path for guitarist Jack White’s brimming arsenal of sounds. Jack is very much the real deal; even in a big arena he fills the space like it’s a living room. By contrast, drummer Patrick Carney meets Dan Auerbach halfway; he does not play the drums so much as dominate them. Like Meg White, he has a heavy hand (and foot), but he is able to—likely by habit as well as necessity—keep time while embellishing the beats to interact with Auerbach’s voice and guitar.

So how does it look and sound on stage? Live at the Crystal Ballroom, recorded this past April in Portland, Oregon, provides a convincing document. Attack & Release, a pleasant surprise, boasts a more refined, textured sound, thanks in large part to the production skills of Danger Mouse, Mr. Can-Do-No-Wrong. Of course, even on its earlier, more raucous efforts (Thickfreakness, for instance) a subtle modulation exists in both volume and tempo that reveals itself after a few listens. Live, they bring it. “Same Old Thing” is an interesting opener. The studio version occurs as a mellower, perfect mid-tempo, mid-album track; here the flute (obviously) is absent, and the track becomes a more abrasive version overall, serving as a crunching introductory note—a call to arms and/or wake-up call to anyone lingering in the beer lines. And then, only two numbers in, we behold Auerbach’s ever-increasing mastery of dynamics within a song: He breaks “Girl Is on My Mind” down and parts the sonic seas, shifting effortlessly from the brute force of a blunt object to an anguished blues crawl. Then, it’s back to basics with straight-up deliveries of “Set You Free” and “Thickfreakness”, both showcasing Carney’s near-overpowering accompaniment.

The rest of the show touches on each of its proper albums, dropping in selections from “Attack and Release” for good measure. Like any rock-concert DVD, what you may lose in feeling you gain in focus. Live, the flashing lights behind the stage can be steady and a bit distracting, almost as if to say: Shut your eyes, and open your ears—an unremitting visual and, obviously, aural assault. No pauses or chit-chat between tunes, just straight business. Watching the DVD, the camera naturally follows the boys’ every move, and like any rock-concert DVD, it’s nice to actually see them, though no DVD can approximate the incomparable vibe of a live performance, but being able to watch these gentlemen do their thing adds aesthetic bonus points.

A couple of highlights. From the first album, The Big Come Up, “Busted” will find viewers remembering the band lacks a bassist, not to mention a second guitarist and then asking, “How in the world are they making all those sounds?” Even safely ensconced within the LCD screen, Auerbach’s slide-guitar excursion in the middle section manages to convey rawness and no shortage of soul. On “Psychotic Girl” (sans banjo and effects), the feeling is stripped down and sinister, a sort of postmodern Delta Blues snarl. Seeing and hearing this no longer surprises. Remember, not many artists—no matter their age or pedigree—would want, much less have the balls, to cover Junior Kimbrough. The fact that a skinny white kid from Ohio did it so credibly is more than a little unnerving. On “You’re The One”, he sounds sensitive without being slick, even (or especially) before an audience his voice has an almost inexplicable sensitivity. There is no other way to say this: Dan Auerbach is a borderline freak of nature (but in a good way, of course).

The DVD experience, in sum, mirrors the concert in one crucial respect: It ends before you know it, and you want more. Blessedly, there is more. Live at the Crystal Ballroom comes with three bonus music videos and a brief behind-the-scenes look at the making of Attack and Release. It’s enough to give you that extra taste, and leave you hungry and impatient for the next spoonful.

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Song of the Day: The Black Keys

 

More on this, later. But to end any sense of suspense: The Black Keys made far and away the best album of the past year, Attack and Release.

Put simply: they are, for my money, the best band–by a rather wide margin–in the game right now, and have been for several years.

They are dangerously close to doing no wrong.

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