Smog
“Knock Knock”
Drag City Records
Grade: A
Smog is one man’s pollution, the solo work
of a smoky and dirtied songwriter named Bill
Callahan.
His latest record of Chris Isaak-meets
Leonard Cohen tunes is trademark-similar to
his past elforts: Most of which have sounded as
if they could be soundtracks to Wim Wenders’
1984 film, “Paris, Texas” - sad, lonely and qui
etly bitter.
Callahan’s creaky, low-key and heartfelt
songs cut like the devil’s butter knife.
On cue with its moody and depressing feel,
“Knock Knock” is another example of how he
has the rare talent to smoothly emote songs that
sound like tear-filled laser beams born from
rough travel.
The songwriter employs a variety of instru
ments to create thick, somber atmospheres.
Some songs use cello, piano, acoustic guitar
and percussion to pin down a dark vibe, but then
Callahan does a 360-degree turn on the a capel
la tune “Left Only With Love.”
The core devices of Callahan’s expressive
weaponry is an acoustic guitar and his tender
baritone voice, which croons to poetry that is
predominantly personal.
Whether it be words or guitar strumming,
the majority of Callahan’s new work has a dom
inating element.
His songs either dance to a twisty beat or
they lyrically brood.
One in particular does both.
“Cold-blooded Old Times” best exemplifies
an upbeat exploitation of Callahan’s disabled
soul.
The song tempts a good booty shaking with
its classic, mid-tempo snare slap that accents
the equally bouncy guitar playing.
Lyrically, it’s about what you’d expect.
“Cold blooded old times ... the types of
memories that turn your bones to glass ... turn
your bones to glass,” Callahan sings.
Frank Zappa’s purist disciples of the emo
tionally funny and phony school of music
should relax: Callahan'sings like an honest and
weary man, not a spoiled college bloke who
can’t handle being dealt a losing hand here and
there.
He sings about loss with class, dignity and
restraint in a manner that once made country
music great.
Like George Jones and Johnny Cash,
Music
Callahan documents his most haunted moods,
because they are his most powerful.
Although the singing grade-school girls on
the eighth track, “Hit the Ground Running,”
shows that Smog can produce some light
moments, most of “Knock Knock” is tough.
“Left Only With Love” is the last track and
the hardest pill to swallow.
The words and the lonely timbre of
Callahan’s a capella voice kills room conversa
tion like the visual passing of a ghost.
“I’m left only with love for you ... You did
what was right to do ... And I hope you find
your husband ... And a father for your chil
dren,” he sings.
In retrospect, these lyrics are especially
powerful because of their relationship to the last
two lines of the album’s first song, “Let’s Move
to the Country.”
Again Callahan sounds as if he is singing to
his love, the mother of his future children, long
after he had lost her. If he’s half the cowboy he
makes himself out to be, it was probably
because of his wandering and regretful ways.
“Let’s start a ...
Let’s have a ...”
- Christopher Heine
Dropkick Murphys
“The Gang’s All Here”
Hellcat Records
Grade: B -
With a band like the Dropkick Murphys,
work ethics are pretty important.
The Boston oi-punk quartet has built its
name on a credibility they take very seriously.
They’re a group whose very nature is synony
mous with DIY persistence both in its music
and their day-to-day lives.
That’s why it wasn’t surprising when singer
Mike McColgan quit
the band to join the
Boston Fire
Department last year.
Oi oi.
not worthy, Mr. Black.”
The song “I
Switched You” is near
ly six minutes of men
acing rock riffs and
However, being
down and out is some
thing these Irish lad
dies thrive on, and
within months of
McColgan’s departure
the group had enlisted
the vocals of longtime
friend A1 Barr.
Immediately there
after, they joined the
Vans Warped Tour and
then embarked on a full U.S. and European tour
with the anti-racist Unity Festival, and some
how still found time to work on their latest
release “The Gang’s All Here.”
Sounds impressive, but when it comes to
DKM it’s really nothing new. After all, this is a
band who put out six 7” and one CD EP in then
first year alone. However, despite the valiant
efforts of those involved, “The Gang’s All
Here” just doesn’t live up to “Do or Die,” the
group’s 1998 full-length release on Hellcat
Records.
of which are inter
changeable. Black
seems bored and tired,
as though he’s just run a marathon, and some
one made him record an album after he crossed
the finish line.
Boring and tired is something Black has
never been before. As the vocalist/guitarist and
primary songwriter for the legendary Boston
band, the Pixies, Black and bassist Kim Deal
designed the template for alternative rock that
bands such as Nirvana followed. The band’s
mix of punk rock, manic surf guitar and pop
melodies spawned countless, and usually lesser,
progeny. Black continued the momentum with
arrogant swagger and
will prompt any patri
otic rock fan to turn the
stereo up. But that’s
abput it. The rest of the
album is full of mid
tempo classic rock
rehashes, none of
which are bad, but all
The most glaring and deteriorating change
is the difference between McColgan and Barr’s
vocal styles. McColgan employed a somewhat
toneless yet smooth and powerful bellow that
hits the gut like a pint of Guinness, while Barr
relies heavily on an over-the-top gritty yell,
more like com beef and cabbage - not bad, but
not as good as Guinness.
Still, about half of “The Gang’s All Here” is
very good and stays hue to what has worked for
the group - a fast and furious mixture of three
chord punk, working class cadences and Irish
folk influences. “Curse of A Fallen Soul” is one
such example. What begins with slow and
sparse piano chords and sad barroom group
singing ends up an instant punk anthem, com
plete with a section of just claps and a sing
along chorus.
Other songs, such as “Devil’s Brigade” and
“Homeward Bound,” incorporate similar ele
ments and are just as infectious as some of
DKM’s earlier work.
However, “The Gang’s All Here” has no
tracks that even compare to “Barroom Hero,”
“Noble” or “Boys on die Docks” - all off of “Do
or Die,” and is not likely to receive the same
acclaim garnered by “Do or Die.”
But knowing the Dropkick Murphys, they’ll
probably release something new in a few weeks
anyway.
- Jason Hardy
Frank Black and the Catholics
“Pistolero”
spin ART Records
Grade: C+
Frank Black’s new album, “Pistolero,” has a
song on it that will turn even the most eloquent
of fans into blubbering fools who utter Wayne
and Garthisms such as “This rocks!,” or “We’re
two great solo albums, expanding the Pixies’
palette with a variety of musical genres.
However, Black’s third album, “The Cult of
Ray,” while fun, was a pretty inessential collec
tion of straight-forward hard rock tunes. The
album failed to move units, and the number
crunchers at his record label dropped him. A
long legal battle with the record company fol
lowed, and he couldn’t find a new home for him
and his back-up band, the Catholics. It appeared
that Black had become another casualty in the
profits vs. art war.
Finding a new home at tiny indie label
spinART, Black surprised many with his self
titled fourth album. Recorded live to two-track,
the album was a raw, real rock ’n’ roll docu
ment. The songs were well-written and Black
seemed rejuvenated.
Enter “Pistolero.” Black is back to treading
water. The album, released a mere seven
months after the last one, would have been
served better if Black and his Catholics had
spent more time in the songwriting process.
“Pistolero” was also recorded live to two-track,
and while the raw rock sound is still there, the
similar production makes the lesser songs of
“Pistolero” sound like outtakes from the last
album. 4
His old sound is almost entirely gone. It’s
only present on “Billy Radcliffe,” a rewrite of
the Pixies’ “Alec Eiffel” with the urgency
siphoned out, and “I Think I’m Starting to Lose
It,” in which Black lets out a choked scream
reminiscent of the early days. Instead, he relies
on lyrics with easy rhymes (odd coming from
the author of “Broken Face” and
“Thalassocracy”) and increasingly conserva
tive arrangements. Black now plays slightly
quirky roots rock, like he’s John Mdlencamp’s
mildly eccentric uncle.
But don’t count Black out yet. The few good
songs on this album show he can still do it when
he wants to, and he’s left a considerable body of
work, both with the Pixies and solo, that are
rock classics. Even Neil Young and Bob Dylan
spent most of the 1980s releasing middling
albums before regaining their muses in the ’90s.
Black should listen to his back catalog and try a
little harder next time.
- Josh Krauter
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