Furr
BLITZEN TRAPPER
(Sub Pop)
Portland, Ore., avant-folk outfit Blizten Trapper's latest CD, Furr, begins pleasantly enough with the contemplative, Harvest-style rocker "Sleepytime in the Western World." The everyman-voiced singer doesn't have much to say, but it's a catchy, rustic opener. The second track ups the rock quotient and, on the coda, squeezes a flute next to cheap electronica blips — cute, but not exactly ingenious. This forced cleverness makes the next cut's Dylan-channeling acoustic guitar, vocal phrasing and harmonica wheezing sound both shopworn and suspect. "And I lost the taste for judging right from wrong," intones Blitzen Trapper leader Eric Earley, as he clumsily attempts to craft a metaphor about transforming into a furry animal and removing himself from the rat race of society. Beck, at his best, proved deft at meshing folk, blues and electronica — but that's because his lyrics were so wonderfully absurd they transcended genre. Blitzen Trapper approaches such greatness but ultimately falls short on Furr. The band became MP3 blog darlings last year with its ebullient, Grateful Dead-with-a-jangle single "Wild Mountain Nation." That slice of stoner country-rock, culled from the band's 2007 full-length of the same name, is believable nonsense, if such a thing exists. Its follow-up, Furr, doesn't include such a gem — just a lot of close misses (the precious John Denver number "Lady on the Water") and annoying failures like the blues-hop murder report "Black River Killer," which sounds like an outtake from Everlast's Whitey Ford Sings the Blues. 2.5 stars —Wade Tatangelo
Dig Out Your Soul
Oasis
(Reprise)
With their sneer, swagger and big, loud guitars, Oasis has always aspired to be a balls-out, arena-ready rock band. That familiar template holds true on Dig Out Your Soul, but the old saw is wearing thin. Thick riffs you'd swear you've heard somewhere before ('cause you probably have) are plentiful, but the patented hooks and melodies are sorely missing, which only serves to call attention to the band's Achilles heel: lyrics. "(Get off Your) High Horse Lady," which appropriates the rhythm and melody of "Hi-Heel Sneakers," is typical of the fare here, saddled with '70s stoner sentiments: "I hear your soul singing from a fire in the sky." The influence of the Beatles, as always, looms large over the record, but not in a good way. A snippet of a John Lennon interview is dropped into "I'm Outta Time," "The Shock of the Lightning" describes love as "a magical mystery," and "Waiting for the Rapture" observes a girl with a "revolution in her head." By dealing in opaque bromides, the band's trademark defiance and idealism fail to make a meaningful impression. There's nothing here that approaches the sublime brilliance of "Champagne Supernova," and when the boys try to come off as deep, as on "The Nature of Reality," the results are pretty embarrassing. On "The Turning," they lament "mining a dream for the same old song." That pretty much sums up Dig Out Your Soul. 2.5 stars —Anthony Salveggi
The Imus Ranch Record
VARIOUS ARTISTS
(New West )
He might be a deplorable shock jock with a fat racist streak shooting up his crooked spine, but The Imus Ranch Record (proceeds go to charity, if that makes you feel any better) deserves praise. Not because it's for charity — what star-laden CD isn't these days — but because the album is remarkably consistent and inspired, a rarity for this kind of ad hoc compilation. Patty Loveless kicks things off with a sweet, Appalachian-style version of Stevie Nicks' "Silver Springs" that all but eclipses the original. Lucinda Williams accomplishes an even greater feat by rendering the played-out Willie & Waylon staple "Mamas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys" into a striking cautionary tale, delivering each line with the lived-in passion of a woman who has let one too many roughnecks into her bed — only to find 'em gone in the morning. Speaking of Willie, Nelson turns in a delightfully subdued reading of the jazzy standard "What a Difference a Day Makes." Levon Helm contributes a joyous, backwoods version of country-soul great Arthur Alexander's "You Better Move On." And the world's most underrated crooner, Raul Malo, crushes on the Charlie Rich number "Life Has Its Little Ups and Downs." 3.5 stars —WT
This article appears in Oct 15-21, 2008.