The Golden Hour
FIREWATER
(Bloodshot)
About three years ago, Firewater singer, songwriter and overall braintrust Tod A. left America because he "couldn't stand looking at George Bush's face anymore." Already known for grafting world music into punk-rock, he lit out for the East, where he wandered into a series of cities and towns, enlisting musicians to perform in hotel rooms, recording them with a single microphone into a laptop. These tracks — cut in India, Pakistan, Turkey and Israel — provide the sonic backbone of The Golden Hour, the extremely satisfying and cohesive result of Tod A.'s troubadour/field-music sojourn.
High-concept though it is, Golden Hour rocks. Tod A. wrote a slew of primal, catchy tunes and decorated them with ethnic instruments (most conspicuously the wheezy harmonium), along with guitars, acoustic bass, drums and — why not? — trombone.
The Golden Hour plays like a travelogue — our hero flees the U.S. (with our "monkey for a president") on the lead track "Borneo." This robust stomper is like the theme song for an anti-Disney movie, with a call-and-response chant bringing a touch of whimsy. Near disc's end, our nomad returns on the klezmer-grooved "Weird to Be Back." "So I just dropped in today/ To check on all my old obsessions," Tod A. sings, somewhat cleansed but still disillusioned. In between, we get our share of dystopian rants, desperate self-reflection and genuine longing for something better (best evidenced in the ska-esque "Some Kind of Kindness" and "A Place Not So Unkind," with its spaghetti Western flourishes).
Tod A. writes deceptively simple, evocative lyrics that can be visually evocative ("Things falling out of the sky/ A woman with stones in her eyes"), angrily confrontational (this missive to Bush: "Every time I see you on my TV screen/ I want to disappear or run and scream") or sardonically humorous ("I've been down so long that coming up is giving me the bends/ And I'm so goddamned lonesome I count enemies as friends"). Even better, Tod A. clearly enunciates these words in a marvel of a voice that's all rag and bone and sinew, a brawny but tuneful bellow delivered with a near-manic urgency.
More often that not, it seems, culture-clash cross-pollinations like The Golden Hour come off as self-conscious, clumsy, arty or overly academic. Tod A.'s project is organic and, probably most important (and difficult), entertaining. 4 stars —Eric Snider
The Odd Couple
GNARLS BARKLEY
(Downtown/Atlantic)
Gnarls Barkley is in many ways defined by its idiosyncrasies: former Dirty South rapper Cee-Lo turned raspy-voiced singer and songwriter; former Internet mash-up artist Danger Mouse turned producer/songwriter. It's also heartening that Gnarls Barkley has succeeded in the marketplace sans any particular allegiance to genre, instead making its own loose-cannon brand of mutant pop. Much to admire — but that said, you still have to bring the goods, and for its sophomore full-length the tandem comes up a bit short. The biggest problem is the thinness of the material. Many of the songs are more like sketches on which Danger Mouse constructs interesting sounds. Further, the production is sometimes so thick that it chokes the hooks and overshadows Cee-Lo's passionate yowl. The album contains no homerun single like "Crazy," although a couple of tunes — "Going On" and "Run (I'm a Natural Disaster)" — bring similar blasts of adrenaline. 2.5 stars —ES
Iron & Diamonds
THE GIBSON BROTHERS
(Sugar Hill )
Plenty of pickers inject bluegrass with rock muscle in an attempt to court jam-band enthusiasts — but that's not The Gibson Brothers. The sibling duo, which features a father-son team among its talented backing players, capably updates the timeless, close-harmony sounds of acts like The Stanley Brothers. Leigh Gibson (vocals, guitar) and Eric Gibson (vocals, banjo), of upstate New York, smartly resist the temptation to affect a twang-y accent or adopt the nasally approach of their bluegrass heroes — yet they still deliver the gorgeous, high lonesome vocals demanded by genre purists. The banjo, guitar, mandolin, fiddle and upright bass work is clean and understated, the traditional instrumentation forming an ideal backdrop for the brothers' poignantly sung originals about spending long days mining (the title track), finding salvation before it's too late ("One Step Closer to the Grave") and coping with a loveless relationship ("Lonely Me, Lonely You)." Like the Gibson Brothers' previous Sugar Hill release, 2006's Red Letter Day, Iron & Diamonds is a winning effort that features expert picking and manages to work on a deeply emotional level without ever sounding maudlin or contrived. 4 stars —Wade Tatangelo
This article appears in Apr 23-29, 2008.