Lost In The Trees - All Alone In An Empty House

Shh. As the title of the album suggests, this is best heard "All Alone in an Empty House". Normally, I tend to be drawn to simple music that makes the most of its melodies, whose sum truly outperforms its parts. But then there are multi-instrumental masterpieces like this one that start simple, before stepping outside and bringing back a bit more of the world to share. Lost In The Trees captures a brilliance and beauty that has been left behind by most of their contemporaries. The songs that make up All Alone in an Empty House aren't so much subdued as they are subtle. Sure, there's a quietness to each song that can't be denied, but there's also a creativity that can't be contained. It's a creativity that is both calculated and at the same time completely carefree. Between the finger-picked guitars and swelling orchestration, the balance that exists extends beyond the well-trodden plane where most performers plant their feet. This album is not so much a glimpse into the mind of the musician as it is a black hole of human emotion that sucks in its surroundings like a banshee breathing in reverse, signaling signs of life rather than impending doom.
As a classically trained composer at the Berklee School of Music in Boston, MA, frontman Ari Picker plows through each song like a balladeer on Benzedrine, melancholic and on a mission. Each song seems to draw power from places most of us can't even point to. To call Mr. Picker a "prodigy" would be to say that The Beatles were "experimental". Much in the same way that Lennon and company pushed the limit of pop music, Lost In The Trees tests the tried-and-true notions of music itself. Attesting to its brilliance is the fact that All Alone In An Empty House was originally recorded and released back in 2007, while Picker was still in school; however, since being signed to Anti- records, the album has been given a grand re-entrance on a much more sizable stage, complete with additional songs and remastering. While there are certainly some similarities with new label mates The Swell Season, Lost In The Trees stands alone in their own realm, in their own room, in their own empty house, as a troubled soul with too much talent to waste and too much time to reconsider the wrongs in life that were never made right. These songs haunt my soul as assuredly as they inspire it. Hearing it for the first time is like waking up from a dream and finding that the other side of the bed has been abandoned: Freedom filled with fear. You place your hand upon your partner's still imprinted pillow, and the band begins to play...

Highlights: "Walk Around The Lake" and "Fireplace"

J Roddy Walston And The Business (self-titled)

All hail the rebirth of Southern Rock sensibilities! J Roddy Walston fuses together dirty blues beats and even dirtier rock runs, creating a raw and raucous album that rolls in like a rush of blood to all the right places. J Roddy Walston and the Business's debut album is everything I ever wanted out of a Jack White album, minus Jack White. Instead, Walston and his Business partners come across as something of a Black Crowes/White Stripes love-child. The resulting album is track after track of loud, proud, pissed-off, right-on rock and roll. You can almost hear the hoarseness growing in J Roddy's vocals as the album advances.

J Roddy Walston and the Business just may be the greatest "bar band" of all time. From the opening piano part of "Don't Break the Needle", you just NEED a beer to fully appreciate all that this album has to offer: a whole damn house party packed into a 37.7-minute mesmerizing, messy masterpiece. The vocals veer high and low like a man who's visited the verge of Hell in his earlier days and now vacations there during down times. The guitars are gritty, gained-up and grab hold of your gut like a pitbull that can't-for-the-love-of-god let go. The percussion pivots from piano to 5-piece kit without so much as a pause, giving the band a broader base by which to build their own brand of southern symphonies. It all comes together in a cohesive collaboration of sonic screams sung to down-home ditties. This kind of rock n roll is why vinyl records and jukeboxes still exist. This isn't one of those albums that I want everyone to hear; it's one of those albums that everyone needs. I repeat: You need this album. Go get it! Now. I promise you won't be disappointed.

Highlights: "Don't Break The Needle" and "Don't Get Old"

Lissie - Catching A Tiger

It's a rare occasion that I stumble upon a new artist whose voice grabs hold of me so tightly as Lissie's voice; it's raspy, sexy, pitch-perfect, and yet not at all pretentious. On her debut album, Catching A Tiger, Lissie lays the groundwork for a career as open as the rural landscapes she recounts in her songs. She could be the next Cheryl Crow. She could turn country and become a new Jewel. Hell, given some of her cover song choices I've heard, "Bad Romance" (Lady GaGa) and "Nothing Else Matters" (Metallica), it's really hard to say where she's headed next. For the time being, I'm hoping that she just continues to pump out more of the Southern-infused folk rock that makes up this entire album. At times beautiful, at times grungy, at times as classic as classic rock gets, Lissie spans the spectrum of musical influences without sounding anything like them. Okay, that's not entirely true; anyone with an ear can hear some distinct throwbacks to bands like Lynyrd Skynyrd, Fleetwood Mac, John Cougar Mellencamp, and others. Hailing from Rock Island, Illinois (pop.39, 684), Catching A Tiger echos the small-town/big-city playfulness that is so prevalent in its songs. Whether you like blues, rock, pop, or folk, you will find something new to love in this album and this artist. I really just can't say enough good things about her. I'm expecting great things in the future from first-name-only Lissie.

Highlights: "When I'm Alone" and "Everywhere I Go"

Elliott Smith - Figure 8

Figure 8 is an important release in the Elliott Smith discography for a number of reasons: 1) It's the last record he released before his death, 2) It's his last release under his DreamWorks contract, 3) It's his most musically exploratory release , and 4) It's the last release before Smith's drug dependencies began to interfere with his music, rather than just influence it. For those of you who've never listened to an Elliott Smith album before, you're in for a real treat. He plays unfolky folk music. He plays unrockish rock music. He plays unpunk punk music. His approach to songwriting was guided by two major components: melody and mood. As such, it's not hard to hear the Beatles fan in him hanging out in the corner of almost every composition. Smith's lyrics really leaned more toward poetic than pop aesthetics, delivered in a whispery rasp that he developed during the later years with his previous band, Heatmiser. (If you do decide to wander into the Smith back catalog, be warned: Though Smith was a frontman for Heatmiser, his solo work bears little resemblance with that band's five releases, except for maybe Mic City Sons.) And while I have a special place in my heart for all of Elliott Smith's albums, Figure 8 is my favorite. It's a bit like saying that I love this orange more than that one, but there it is. Although sometimes criticized for being "too glossy", especially for a guy whose entire repertoire reveled in its rough-around-the-edges executions, Figure 8 seemed to capture a moment in time when Smith was working at expanding his sound with experimental abandon. Having just come off the huge popularity of X/O (which had followed an Oscar nomination for "Miss Misery" from the Good Will Hunting soundtrack), Smith intentionally nudged this new material in another direction. Swelling orchestrations, intricate chord progressions, and meticulous melodies make Figure 8 one of the most beautiful albums ever recorded. Like a modern-day Simon and Garfunkel humming harmonies with himself.

Highlights: "Son of Sam" and "Everything Means Nothing To Me"

The Tom Fun Orchestra - You Will Land With A Thud

Aside from having one of the coolest album titles ever, these guys make some of the coolest music off the mainstream path. To sum them up in a word, The Tom Fun Orchestra is a "blender" band. They cull their musical influences from such vast and far-reaching genres (folk, rock, country, blues, roots) and artists (Tom Waits, for sure) that their resultant sound is one unlike anything you've ever heard before. No doubt, you'll recognize pieces and parts of myriad hitmakers who have come before them, but Tom Fun Orchestra puts all those pieces and parts back together in an odd and refreshing way that leaves you feeling a little confused, like maybe this music is a little too hip and cool for you, but then you realize that there's a nerdiness to it all that seems to open its arms like a giant bearhug holding all the world together as one. Okay, that may be overstating it just a bit, but you get the point nonetheless. What I'm trying to say here is that the music is so inclusive of conflicting genres and song structures that it excludes no one from its potential pool of listeners. If the vocals come off a little rough at first, just give it a few more minutes, it'll grow and change. And that seems to be the constant theme of the album: "growth and change." Every song has its own little existence and groove, but yet they all fit perfectly onto the collective album. And it's no mistake that the word "fun" is part of the band's name; this is a party album! They're not all hooks and grooves and bouncing basslines, (in fact none of them are) but rather just good, fun, upbeat-tempo, get-off-your-bum-and-try-something-new type of tunes. I've listened to this album for weeks at a time over the last few years, and it never gets old - it never even gets older. It's just as fresh, fun and new as the first day I picked it up. Goes well with Crooked Fingers and a party hat... and a feather boa... and a glass of champagne... and jelly beans. In short, don't bottle it up in a pair of headphones; let this one breathe.

Highlights: "When You Were Mine" and "Throw Me To The Rats"

Have Gun, Will Travel - Postcards From The Friendly City

Just released in February, this is perhaps the most recent selection to hold my heart captive. Mostly well-defined by the term "folk", Postcards From The Friendly City has something else going on, which may be called "alt-country" in some circles, even though it's more progressive than most alt-country bands that exist today. Reminds me a good deal of the Deer Tick War Elephant album I posted a few weeks back, which isn't terribly surprising, given that both bands are signed to Suburban Home Records, who also represents some of my other favorite singer/songwriters Chuck Ragan and Tim Barry. (Note to readers: If you ever find an indie band you like, always check out who else is on their label - there's likely a few more you'll enjoy. Saddle Creek Records is a good example.) Hailing from Tampa (I know, who'd have thought?), Have Gun, Will Travel (HGWT) have a sound more representative of Memphis than mid-Florida. What's interesting is that this band just sort of came together with one member at a time, creating a fuller sound with each new player. Those players are: Matt Burke (voice, guitar, harmonica, occasional banjo), Daniel Burke (stand-up/elec. bass, voice), JP Beaubien (drums, percussion), Joshua "The Violation" Hernandez (viola, mandolin), and Scott "Fats" Anderson (elec. guitar, lap steel). The lyrics are really honest, the music is pretty straight-forward, and all of the songs are played in a really loose, live sort of way, which seems to capture the essence of HGWT pretty well. This isn't big music for a big venue, but rather exactly what I have in mind when I think of the perfect bar band, and I don't say that as an insult at all. What I mean is that these are really well-crafted, thoughtful songs that are better suited to a smaller, more thoughtful audience, that's all. And I must warn you: It's a catchy album! So, if you're the kind of person who tends to hear a hook and hum it out loud the rest of the day, just beware. Goes well with The Felice Brothers, The Avett Brothers, or just about any other brotherly bands.

Highlights: "Salad Days" and "Asa Dalton"

Paul Westerberg - Suicaine Gratifaction

Following his time as leader of indie-rock icons The Replacements, Paul Westerberg took to releasing more radio-friendly pop hits as a solo artist, and his success was immediate. Before he could even compile an entire album, Westerberg found fame providing the score for the film Singles, for which he also contributed his most well-known-to-date singles "Dyslexic Heart" and "Waiting For Somebody". These songs would later also appear on his 1993 solo debut, 14 Songs, which bears little resemblance at all to what would be his third solo album, Suicaine Gratifaction. Released just six years after the success of Singles, the songs of Suicaine Gratifaction revealed a deeply personal glimpse of Westerberg's inner demons and insecurities. Widely known for his wry wit and self-deprecating humor, Westerberg went about the writing of this album by bearing whatever soul his pen could provide at the time, and the recordings capture every chord (and discord) his muse could muster. Truthfully, this is in fact the most personal album I've ever heard by any major artist. Toned-down productions that often seem to be secured from a single take, this album is full of emotional breakdowns beaten back by upbeat breathers that keep it from falling apart completely. While Westerberg sometimes seems like the kind of songwriter whose songs might fare better in a friendlier voice, there's no substitution for the real connection the artist shares with his work; someone else could sing the lyrics, but few could feel the weight of Westerberg's words. His first and only release under contract with Capitol Records, Suicaine Gratifaction received little (if any) marketing support, resulting in no single for the album and sales that slipped before they even started, which all contribute to making this one of the greatest diamond-in-the-rough finds of all time. The songs are beautiful (even in Westerberg's sometimes beastly bear-growls), and no matter how many times I listen to them, they always seem to find new ways for me to identify with them. As far as hearts on sleeves go, this is verbal voyeurism at its very best. Go get a copy.

Highlights: "Lookin' Out Forever" and "Tears Rolling Up Our Sleeves"