Stanton Moore Flyin' the Koop
This is jazz with bad manners. This is jazz that'll point at your chest and then flick your nose. This is not, however, jazz that's a rhythm-less, skronkin' cacophony. Moore, the drummer for New Orleans funk stalwarts Galactic, has assembled an ace ensemble for his second solo disc: bassist Chris Wood (of Medeski Martin and Wood), saxophonists Karl Denson and Sherik, and guitarist Brian Seeger (on four of the 12 numbers). Calling on Moore's Crescent City roots, the group pummels their way through a variety of funky, riffy tunes, with stellar results. Several of the selections, most notably Fallin' Off the Floor (with guest vocal chant by the Wild Magnolias) are like Mardi Gras parade music with chops and intellect. Others are ruder: Launcho Diablo and Things Fall Apart showcase Sherik on saxophonics — his tenor played through effects board, making it sound like a searing acid guitar. Rhythm reigns supreme. Moore's muscular, fluid stickwork, which is prominent in the mix, meshes perfectly with Wood's vigorous attack on acoustic and electric bass; the horn players get right in lockstep, spewing jagged lines and joining together for infectious, bluesy licks. Flyin' the Koop is the first great groove-jazz disc of the year. (Blue Thumb, www.bluethumb.com)
—Eric Snider 
Kasey Chambers Barricades & Brickwalls
Kasey Chambers' much anticipated sophomore release is an inconsistent hodgepodge of riveting country-rockers, unconvincing honky-tonkers and middle-of-the-road, sensitive singer/songwriter fare. Chambers' older brother Nash provides taut production throughout — making the muscular rockers crackle and the hardcore country tunes sizzle as if emanating straight from a smoky roadhouse. The problems lie within Chambers' lyrical content and vocal sensibilities. Her fragile, gooey tenor just doesn't possess the emotional depth to make lines like I'm gonna drink you out of my head (A Little Bit Lonesome), or I still cry for Baby Jesus (I Still Pray), sound anything but silly. Chambers excels when surrounded by crashing guitars, spitting out lines such as I'll be damned if you're not my man/ By the time the sun goes down. The autobiographical Nullarbor Song finds the Australian songstress replacing cliches — which pop up annoyingly throughout the disc — with striking details that allow her tender vocals to shine. Chambers' latest effort is far from junk; nor is it the juggernaut that would turn Nashville upside down. (Warner Brothers).
—Wade Tatangelo
Starsailor Love is Here
Will the procession of sensitive bardic musicians from England never end? Ever since Thom York and Co. decided to stop writing twee songs of longing and regret and start futzing with computers, there has been a procession of bands vying to fill the position of Sensitive Men In A Band Loved By The Critics. Coldplay and Travis have entered that sweepstakes with some success, and now Starsailor jumps into the fray with Love Is Here. Granted, only certain people can stand to listen to nothing but songs of lost love that are sung and/or yelped in near-falsetto over washes of guitar and gentle keyboards. But even if the melancholia at first is a turn off, give Starsailor a couple of listens. The album grows as gently as it plays, and the subtleties of lyrics and instrumentation reveal themselves once the listener decides to soak in the record rather than resist. And it's not all shoegazing; most of the songs build and build until frontman James Walsh breaks and begins to holler and the rest of the band follows musical suit. The record really hits its stride with the title track, a gorgeous, fragile ballad that could serve as a manifesto for the love-stricken of both genders. Lyrics are really the showpiece of this album, and the title song's unabashed sentimentality and sweetness hit an emotional chord that either endears with its honesty or annoys with its open-wound vulnerability. (Capitol)
—Quincey D. Vierling
Beth Hirsch Titles & Idols
Singer/songwriter Beth Hirsch, and her producers, blend elements of the European dance-track aesthetic, New Age's more accessible corners and a substantial, pop-informed songwriting talent to create something both arty and breezy on Titles & Idols. Hirsch, a Tampa native, signed with German dance label !K7 while building her career in Europe. She possesses a strong, flexible and evocative voice — shades of Sarah McLachlan surface fairly often — that's well-suited to most of the material represented on this, her second disc. On Titles and Idols, her style seems most in sync with the French mix team Black Dog Productions, who helmed the hooky, skewed-breakbeat standouts I Know Why and Nest Sensation. Almost everything else works too, be it pop, dance, acoustic or chillout. Only the largely spoken Captain Daylight and faux-lounge Ordinary Life lack the album's easy listenability; most of the other tracks, while eminently digestible, compose a sum somewhat greater than the whole of their parts. (!K7 Records, www.k7.com)
—Scott Harrell
This article appears in Feb 27 – Mar 5, 2002.