Cachaito Cachaito
Bassist Orlando Cachaito Lopez is the only musician to play on every recorded song of the vaunted Buena Vista Social Club franchise. Fellow Cuban veterans Ruben Gonzalez, Ibrahim Ferrer, Omara Portuondo and Juan de Marcos have released solo efforts under the BVSC umbrella, and now it's Cachaito's turn to step to the plate. His entry is the most innovative and eclectic of the lot, and second only to the original BSVC album in terms of overall quality.
Consider the transition from the percolating A Gozar El Tumbao to Cachaito in Laboratory: a turntable scratch heralding a fat funk groove. And it doesn't sound like misguided silliness from a dilettante; Cachaito and his band can rip into some funk, while giving it a Latin tinge (fans of the D.C. go-go sound will vibe on this). Tumbao No. 5 (para Charlie Mingus) works a loping groove to death while Rafael Jenks goes all Coltrane on tenor sax; then it suddenly slides into a mutant reggae/swing feel. Sonic surprises abound throughout Cachaito: Wah-wah keyboards underscoring traditional Latin flute; mildly discordant string arrangements; a touch of dub echo on Tumbanga; some free-form guitar wail on the undulating Anais. And through it all runs an intricate but flowing tapestry of Afro-Cuban percussion (not to mention Cachaito's woody, full-bodied bass work). This disc proves that while the BVSC guys may be a tad long in the tooth, they're still thinking young. (World Circuit/Nonesuch)—Eric Snider
Dave Navarro Trust No One
Oft-troubled guitarist Dave Navarro, late of Jane's Addiction and Red Hot Chili Peppers, made some of the Lollapalooza Generation's most innovative sounds. Strange and disappointing, then, that his solo debut relies so heavily on current alt-rock convention. As a songwriter, Navarro eschews much of his unique six-string talent in favor of what he apparently hopes will score on modern-rock radio — cliched chord sequences, watered-down electronica, and a conspicuously forced sensuality. The disc's obvious singles, notably the openers "Rexall" and "Hungry," marry acoustic guitars and tired drum-loop pabulum. "Not For Nothing" echoes Nine Inch Nails' "Starfuckers Inc." in both lyric and style, and nearly everything else here travels a safe route, musically speaking, by pairing Days of the New riffage with a limited vocal range and just enough cool noises to get by. Fans should forgo this one, and instead scour the used bins for a copy of Deconstruction, Navarro's out-of-print collaboration with Jane's bassist Eric Avery. It makes this tepid collection seem downright regrettable by comparison. (Capitol)—Scott Harrell
All Natural Second Nature
The sophomore album from Chicago's All Natural — Tone b. Nimble and D. Kelly — is great basement-studio hip-hop. Kelly's bravado-less delivery is paced by reserved, jazz-spiked tracks, and there is an intelligent authenticity to his wordplay. He rips golddiggers on Queens Get the Money, schools emcees on the art of rhyming on Elements of Style and plumbs his humble soul on Godspeed. As producer/ turntablist, Tone's choruses are often scratched-up samples, such as his cop of Slick Rick's line That's why we never have no beef for the song Vegetarian. Faults with Second Nature are minor: too many non-topic battling songs and a few stilted rhymes. There may not be any radio hits on the album, but all in all, it's another success for underground hip-hop. (Thrill Jockey, www.thrilljockey.com)
—Cooper Cruz
Pseudo Heroes
Betraying Angry Thoughts On their first full-length, Tampa's Pseudo Heroes deliver some great, melodic rock 'n' roll, and display an engaging enthusiasm for transcending punk's boundaries. Betraying Angry Thoughts is chock full of fast, anthemic tunes that remain inescapably catchy while rarely resorting to pop-punk convention. Guitarist/vocalist Sam Williams is clearly not content to ply the same four-chord formulas, cranking out memory-adhesive, Twin Tone-influenced instrumental hooks (most notably on the title track, Dollar Daze and Here In My Head) with amazing consistency. Bassist Kevin Coss and drummer Carlos Velez-Collins drive things along admirably, providing a crisp counterpoint to the fuzzed-out guitars and soft-focus harmonies. Everything here scores, including the reverent-yet-smiley cover of Motorhead's Iron Fist. The drums could be a little more prominent in the mix, but that's about it. The trio has crafted a far above-average collection of tunes, rendered with unmistakable relish and without the redundancy and simplicity that kneecaps so much of the speedy-and-poppy stuff these days. (Theologian, www.theologianrecords.com)
—Scott Harrell
Seven Mary Three The Economy of Sound
It's been six years since these Orlando fellas became poster boys for Florida rock with the hit Cumbersome, only to trail off with slack-selling discs Rock Crown and Orange Avenue. The Economy of Sound is easily 7M3's worst album. Our best guess is that it's because they recently booted their lead guitarist, Jason Pollock. Apparently, he was all that was keeping these guys alive the last half decade. To be fair, the album's not a total loss. Still I Find You is a relatively catchy tune, and the airy Tug and Zeroes and Ones both hint at the band's former glory. Overall, the sound is muddled, with distorted power chords that just keep overlapping and getting in the way. Not to mention that there is hardly a melody worth mentioning in the entire disc. (Mammoth)
—Dustin Dwyer
Jimi Hendrix Voodoo Child: The Jimi Hendrix Collection
Don't let the as-seen-on-TV sticker run you off. This is no raggedy-ass collection of leftovers; this is a first-rate, smartly packaged Hendrix set designed as a primer for those yet to get hip to one of rock's most extraordinary artists. Disc One collects 18 studio essentials, starting with Purple Haze and ending with Hey Baby (New Rising Sun). Four alternate versions are sprinkled in. The second disc includes 12 live staples, from the cosmic blues of Red House to a pummeling Fire. And Hendrix completists note: a version of Foxey Lady from Maui, Hawaii in 1970 is previously unreleased. C'mon, record label, play fair. Some folks gotta actually buy these things. (Universal)
—Eric Snider
This article appears in Jul 5-11, 2001.