Make Do With What You Got
SOLOMON BURKE
Shout Factory
Soul singer extraordinaire Solomon Burke rejuvenated his career with 2002's moody masterpiece Don't Give Up on Me. The disc, which found him singing tunes by the likes of Elvis Costello, Tom Waits and Brian Wilson – some of which were specially earmarked for the project – was crafted into a slinky, stripped-down affair by producer Joe Henry (who also happens to be one of our most underappreciated singer-songwriters).

Now Burke is back with Make Do With What You Got, a far more conventional effort that nevertheless showcases his rangy, exquisitely passionate voice. This one was produced by Don Was, who in the late '80s helmed Bonnie Raitt's career breakout Nick of Time and subsequent efforts.

Where Henry wrapped the long-neglected Burke in exotic, high-concept surroundings, Was effectively stays out of the way; and while that might seem like a good idea when producing a talent like Burke, it had the effect of lumping Make Do in with any number of other projects by R&B legends. Simply put, the disc lacks the magic.

Start with the song selection. Don't Give Up on Me gathered a series of left-of-center melodies and occasionally obtuse lyrics that forced Burke to really home in when he might've otherwise fallen back on stock licks. It also caused Burke, who likes bombast and flourish, to rein in his vocals some and cultivate his introspective side, making the music far more intimate.

The new disc's songs are less imaginative, and less challenging for the artist. "I Need Your Love in My Life" is a run-of-the-mill R&B stomper; "Let Somebody Love Me" a pleadin'-on-bended-knees mid-tempo soul tune, the title song a simmering funk workout. None of these songs are in any way bad – especially in the hands of a master like Burke – but where's the magic?

The album also includes a cache of cover tunes, among them The Band's "It Makes No Difference," Dylan's "What Good Am I?" and Van Morrison's "At the Crossroads" – solid renditions that don't really bring anything new to the game. The best of these tracks is a randy remake of the Stones "I Got the Blues."

Backed by a hefty rhythm section and (most of the time) horns, Burke is free to shout, wail and testify, tipping the awe meter with a range that goes from basso rumble to a searing tenor. The voice is still extraordinary, which makes Make Do with What You Got worthy on its face, but you never get the sense that the soul legend is really stretching.

-Eric Snider

Heart Like a River
IDA
Polyvinyl
Early on, low-key Brooklyn outfit Ida was hailed as a pioneer in the then-burgeoning indie-scene trend known as "slowcore." Which was fitting, because nobody knew what the hell "slowcore" was, any more than they knew how to categorize Ida, a band whose palette could shift from acoustic roots music to droning electric-pop in the seconds between songs on a CD. Heart Like a River, the group's first full-length in four years, finds them in familiar yet very grown-up singer-songwriter territory. The girl/girl/guy harmonies and songcraft are as impeccable as ever, but the album applies them to such a uniformly mellow vibe that the results are often as boring as they are soaring. "599," an early highlight, is as close to loud as Heart Like a River gets – fuzz-toned and motivated. There are plenty of good tunes to follow (particularly the after-hours "Late Blues" and lengthy closers "The Morning" and "Forgive"), too; however, there's also a lot of stuff that barely registers a pulse, and "What Can I Do" and "The Details" veer dangerously close to Anne Murray's turf. Heart Like a River showcases the kind of songwriting talent you'd expect from such a lauded outfit, but it might be tough staying awake long enough to appreciate the whole thing. Ida plays Masquerade's Infinity Room in Ybor City on March 12.

-Scott Harrell

Here's to the Mourning
UNWRITTEN LAW
Lava
Originally a pop-punk outfit set firmly in the early-'90s SoCal tradition, Unwritten Law was one of the first acts of that cred-heavy ilk to suddenly skew conspicuously more toward FM-friendly modern rock, and to score a mainstream breakthrough by doing so. Never the most original band, the formulaic hit "Seein' Red" was even less impressive than Unwritten Law's previous, punkier fare, but it had the big obvious hook, so there you go. After a perplexing techno intro, Here's to the Mourning digs back into the same nearly empty bag of anthemic hard-rock tricks. It seems like there's one small, interesting facet to each one of these tunes – the "ba-ba-ba" vocal refrain of "Celebration Song," the sinewy single-note guitar tag in obvious single "Because of You," the oscillating noises hanging in the mix of other obvious single "Save Me," the whistle solo in the Police-inspired "I Like the Way" – but such personal touches are inevitably overrun by the same cliched combination of crunchy metal tones, four-chord pop choruses and angsty vibe that rendered commercial modern-rock radio more tiresome than tough five years ago.

-Scott Harrell

This article appears in Mar 9-15, 2005.

Eric Snider is the dean of Bay area music critics. He started in the early 1980s as one of the founding members of Music magazine, a free bi-monthly. He was the pop music critic for the then-St. Petersburg...