Joan Jett and The Blackhearts - 'Greatest Hits'

With her biopic The Runaways slated to go into limited released March 19, it makes sense that Joan Jett, subject and executive producer of the film, would drop a greatest hits package the week before. Perhaps drawing attention from kids interested in the film thanks to its casting of Twilight star Kristen Stewart, it is, in a way, more of a soundtrack to the movie than the actual, official soundtrack ever could be. To that end, the compilation mixes selections from Jett’s time with The Runaways and as a solo artist with The Blackhearts, spreading 21 tracks over two CDs. Even without the film, Jett was due for another evaluation. If the Stooges were the pre-eminent proto-punks, then the Runaways were the proto-riot grrrls, perhaps the proto-girl rock band. Before Paramore, Discount, Hole, Bikini Kill, or Sleater-Kinney, there were the Runaways.

While the combined running time is only 65 minutes, breaking up the songs over two discs helps recreate the feel of vinyl. Two records come wrapped in miniature LP sleeves; the case is cardboard. Liner notes are brief – click here to get more depth – leaving the listener to let the riff-tastic music explain Jett’s legacy without hyperbole.

In theory, opening the collection with four Runaways songs that Jett rerecorded during her solo career should be a bad idea. “Beat It 2008,” “Shout at the Devil ’97” and many more diminished returns attest to this warning. So it’s a welcome surprise that Jett’s updates A) rock and B) blend in nicely with the rest of her remastered catalogue. Her voice has held up incredibly well, as 2009 versions of “You Drive Me Wild,” “School Days” and “Love is Pain” reveal. Slightly less impressive is a 1984 recreation of “Cherry Bomb.” The ’80s were a bad decade for drums, and this version includes some awkward, shuffling auxiliary percussion halfway through that nearly disrupts the song. The first time I heard it, I thought my copy was skipping. Good thing it’s an insanely catchy glam rock number.

There are four Jett songs I expect everyone to know: “Cherry Bomb” (no excuse now that The Runaways trailer is out), “Bad Reputation” (It was the Freaks and Geeks theme song!), “You Don’t Know What You’ve Got” (Jawbreaker covered it, and I never miss an opportunity to big up Blake Schwarzenbach) and “I Love Rock N’ Roll” (because it’s ubiquitous). All of them are included on the first disc and they all rock. “Bad Reputation” is a delicious slice of rebellion, while “You Don’t Know What You’ve Got” extends the same “fuck you” attitude to an ex-lover. The songs often jump the line between punk (“I Want You”) and hard rock (“(I’m Gonna) Run Away”), although the last track, a cover of “Crimson and Clover,” switches from balladry to peppy anthem at will. At a half-hour, the first disc is a tightly assembled mix.

Given that the first disc covers all of Jett’s best known songs, there’s a slight “best/rest” divide between the two CDs. Tunes like “The French Song,” with its butchered French chorus, and “Fake Friends,” a lesser riff rock tune, fall far behind the first disc’s quality. There are some winners spread around – opener “Do You Wanna Touch Me (Oh Yeah)” is a tough come-on, while “Backlash,” which Jett co-wrote with The Replacements’ Paul Westerberg, bops along well enough. I kind of lied earlier when I said that all the Jett songs I expected people to know were on the first disc. The Blackhearts covered the Mary Tyler Moore Show theme song for ESPN, and it became so popular that the band recorded a commercial version for radio. It’s kind of a cop out, but it’s also a really bouncy, fun song, and it erases the disappointment of “Activity Grrrl,” a directionless riot grrrl tune Jett wrote with Bikini Kill’s Kathleen Hanna. The final two songs, covers of the Replacements’ “Androgynous” and Sweet’s “A.C.D.C.”, mess with gender roles in the catchiest of ways.

Perhaps more so than the upcoming film could, Greatest Hits asserts Jett’s place in the punk canon. She’s been self-releasing records, including this one, for 30 years. She continues to find new audiences – male and female – that identify with her brand of rock ‘n’ roll. While Greatest Hits isn’t perfect, it’s more than enough to earn her more converts.

Japanther - 'Tut Tut, Now Shake Ya Butt'

You might call Japanther a fuzzy Brooklyn bass-n-drums hipster combo, but I call it good ol’ fashioned pop punk. Underneath that NYC cool are simple, fun songs (like The Ramones!). Some of the tracks on the album Tut Tut, Now Shake Ya Butt are broken up by humorous samples (like Dillinger Four!). It’s a catchy collection of rapid fire lo-fi jams (like The Dead Milkmen!). Just skip the lengthy spoken word pieces by Penny Rimbaud of Crass ’cause they’re just not fun or funny (unlike Anti-Flag’s “This is Not a Crass Song!”).

That’s right, Rimbaud, who also execute produced Tut Tut, dominates over half of the record’s running time, emceeing the intro and outro, as well as two really boring, really long spoken word tracks about “huh dja buh huh” and “Who shot who in the what now?”. This guy can talk. Goodness gracious, he can just talk and talk on and on about any little thing in a great cavalcade perhaps the greatest cavalcade like it could literally bury you in an avalanche of pronouns and verbs and tenses that get confused about the truth for days without commas to guide them like a Shepard of Punctuation and you think if you could sleep yes sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-… you get the idea. Quite the ranter, he is. Rimbaud’s distracting presence makes the album more of a split than a true full-length, as listeners actually only get seven Japanther jams that add up to about 15 minutes (of a 37-minute running time).

But man are they catchy, skuzzed out two-piece tunes. Opening salvo “Um Like Your Smile is Totally Ruling Me Right Now” has a loose, rollicking quality that is second only to its successor, “Bumpin’ Rap Tapes.” That baby is one of the premiere love songs of the decade, asking the listener to call the band up any hour of the day, even if he or she “feel[s] like a creepy doll,” so long as they tell Japanther those crucial, life-affirming words: “I love you.”

Tut Tut isn’t the best starting point for Japanther (Skuffed Up My Huffy requires way less skipping), but with the right amount of sequencing, it can make for a solid EP.

JEFF the Brotherhood - 'Heavy Days'

When you roll with Ted Leo and Ian Svenonious, you must be at least kind of sort of OK I guess. I mean, Leo is too nice of a guy to have bad taste in music, right? Sure enough, his tourmates JEFF the Brotherhood (ex-Be Your Own Pet guitarist and drummer Jake and Jamin Orrall) aren’t too shabby, as evidenced by their full-length debut Heavy Days. Noisy, psychedelic, grungy, even ever so slightly post-punk, JEFF feels like a stroll through the best record collection ever (Whispers of Wire, Sonic Youth, Devo, Talking Heads, and Chisel come to mind).

What keeps Heavy Days so invigorating is its subtle diversity. One minute it’s heavy and Sabbath-derived (“Dreamscape”), then it’s angular and danceable (“Bone Jam”). The opening eponymous track slowly introduces the band’s key elements. What begins with flies buzzing is trampled by steady, pounding drums, followed by sludgy guitar. Think Big Business or Mudhoney. Then the stoned-out vox kick in. And hey, tambourine. That’s cute. By the time the Brotherhood brothers get to the guitar solo, “Heavy Days” is in full-on jam nirvana. From there, the record explores all available side streets. “U Got the Look” is a logical follow-up to “Heavy Days” – still psychedelic – but there’s this slight turn that gives it a nervous post-punk energy, abetted by the back-ups “oohs” and “ahhs.” Out of nowhere, “The Tropics” provides a slow dance opportunity for kids with bad haircuts. Then just as suddenly, “Heavy Krishna” turns into a Pink Flag B-side before then transforming into a Master of Reality holdover.

At nine songs, Heavy Days might seem slim to some, but given that the set lasts 31 minutes, I think it’s a fair amount. The band gets in, struts and slops for a bit and gets out. Which, given how raw and primitive the songs get at times, makes sense.

I realize that the Be Your Own Pet connection might be a deal-breaker for some (“Be Your Own Band,” my buddy T.R. used to call him). And admittedly, JEFF doesn’t (re)invent anything here; it’s only rock ‘n’ roll. But dang it all, these brothers know what they’re doing, which is making rock music that is occasionally booty-shaking, head-bobbing, seizure-inducing, “I can taste colors and see sounds”-ing, and just generally good.

Playlist: Jets to Brazil

[Playlist is an attempt to distill my favorite artists to 80-minute compilations. If someone asked me to burn them a mix of the bands featured here, I would give them this collection.]

I'll be seeing Blake Schwarzenbach's new band, forgetters, this Friday at the Barbary, which is quickly becoming my favorite venue in Philly. Tix are cheap, parking is free, it's easy to get to, and it's small 'n' intimate. Before going to a show, I listen to all of my music by the artists expected to play. Which means I spun all of my Jawbreaker and Jets to Brazil tunes, plus Against Me!'s Crime EP, since forgetters features ex-AM! drummer Kevin Mahon. It's been an awesome two weeks. With ample amounts of Face to Face also included, I found myself wondering why I even bother buying new music. But I digress.

Jets to Brazil was Schwarzenbach's new band after Jawbreaker's dissolution, and while the group took a lot of flak for not sounding punk, I think time has negated that notion a bit. At this point, Jets to Brazil is almost as popular as Jawbreaker and, in my mind at least, on a "separate but equal" level. I've kind of always felt that way. I've been anti-music piracy, but in the early aughts, when my family first joined the World Wide Web, I took a taste or two of tunes that I couldn't find in stores. It's funny to think that at one point, my parents were so uptight about online shopping that they wouldn't even let their children visit Amazon.com.

Anyway, when I first started getting into punk rock, a friend turned me on to Mitch Clem's Nothing Nice to Say, which in turn introduced me to Jets to Brazil and Jawbreaker. Curious, I hit up Kazaa to learn more about the bands and, thanks to tagging, ended up with a hodgepodge of tracks from Jawbreaker's Dear You and Jets to Brazil's Orange Rhyming Dictionary that were all labeled as JTB. On my first trip to a real live indie record store (The dearly departed, though really shady now that I think about it, Disc. Yes, that was the store's name), I picked up JTB's Four Cornered Night, pretty much because it was the only Schwarz release there. And thus began my slow but steady descent into Schwarzenfandom. Perfecting Loneliness, 24 Hour Revenge Therapy, and the Dear You rerelease followed in high school. I snatched up the remainder of Blake's discography in college, finally figuring out which albums had those "Sweet Avenue" and "I've Got All the Words..." songs I'd heard years before.

But that's all a tangent. My point: JTB finds Schwarzenbach developing even further as a lyricist, with all types of playful internal rhymes and obscure references. People bitched about how it wasn't 24 Hour Therapy, but honestly, I like it that way. JTB released only three records on Jade Tree in their too brief history, but they're all brilliant bursts of indie rock. Like Jawbreaker (click here to see that playlist), each release has its own identity, though I do consider Four Cornered Night to slightly be a precursor to what the band more successfully achieved on their best album, Perfecting Loneliness. Hence, this playlist takes five tracks from each album, in chronological order, before closing out with "I've Got All the Words..." from the band's first demo.

I Typed For Miles
1. "Crown of the Valley," Orange Rhyming Dictionary
2. "Chinatown," Orange Rhyming Dictionary
3. "Sea Anemone," Orange Rhyming Dictionary
4. "I Typed For Miles," Orange Rhyming Dictionary
5. "Sweet Avenue," Orange Rhyming Dictionary [I waited for years until I felt I'd met the right girl to attach this song to. It was worth it.]
6. "You're Having the Time of My Life," Four Cornered Night
7. In the Summer's When You Really Know," Four Cornered Night
8. "Little Light," Four Cornered Night
9. "Mid-Day Anonymous," Four Cornered Night
10. "*******," Four Cornered Night ["Mid-Day" segues into it, how could I leave it out?]
11. "The Frequency," Perfecting Loneliness
12. "You're the One I Want," Perfecting Loneliness [Oddly enough, I've attached this song to plenty of women that in retrospect weren't "The One," which is funny to me because this song is actually about NOT getting the girl. I always used to just ignore that tidbit because this song is so catchy.]
13. "Cat Heaven," Perfecting Loneliness [Right now this is my favorite JTB song.]
14. "William Tell Override," Perfecting Loneliness
15. "Rocket Boy," Perfecting Loneliness [I have clear memories of driving down 309 in the snow at like 2 a.m. to this. Well, that and Joe Jackson's Volume 4. I miss night drives like that, trying to stay with my girlfriend for as long as possible before heading back to school in the city.]
16. "I've Got All the Worlds...", Location is Everything Volume 1

Envy/Jesu - split

Summer’s halfway over, and I still haven’t made a beach trip yet. Haven’t burnt my feet on sand or dodged New Jersey’s tag policy or rocked my beach records. The Mescaleros, Band of Horses, and Minus the Bear always put me in a sunny mood, and that reissue of Dennis Wilson’s Pacific Ocean Blue was a welcome addition last year. Another album I always spin, preferably at night with the waves crashing in the distance and maybe some percussive rain, is My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless. The penultimate shoegaze record, it’s a beautiful hazy mess. A thundering behemoth. The dreamiest, the swirliest, the gosh dang bestest. And while I’ve found other bands that kinda, sorta, almost approximate that sound (M83, Mogwai, Sigur Rós), or rather certain angles of it, nothing has ever quite hit me the same way. And while sometimes that makes me sad, it’s still great to hear MBV’s ideas live on, however directly or indirectly. Which is why I don’t mind the year it took for Envy and Jesu’s split EP to drop in the states.

Jesu and Envy are two top-notch post-rock/post-hardcore/post-MBV bands that blend passion and atmosphere quite well. Envy goes first on the split with three tracks. If these songs recall Envy’s work with Thursday last year, well, that might be because they were recorded around the same time in 2008. There’s a more profound rising/falling arc here than on the Thursday split, and the material, when taken as a whole, feels better conceived. And also like that other EP, Envy comes out sounding like the better band. “Conclusion of Existence” opens the album with a subdued, droning electronic beat and ethereal guitars. It’s so hypnotic and calming that when “A Winter Quest for Fantasy” repeats the same trick before exploding during its final 90 seconds, it’s revelatory. Here is a band with a grasp of both chaos and order, violence and passivity. After this superb rising action, “Life Caught in the Rain” brings the listener back down. Where Loveless blew out of the gate with “Only Shallow” before creating a mood that stretched across the album, Envy shows moderation upfront, with a dynamic second act. However, all three tracks need to be considered together; the sequencing is crucial.

Jesu fills out the record’s backend with two lengthy ambient dance jams. Loveless was a lot of things; one them being a prediction of the U.K.’s love of jungle and techno. “Hard to Reach” winks at “Soon,” blending in cloudy, swirling instrumentation over a mid-tempo dance beat. At almost 14 minutes long, it’s somewhat of a patience-tester. But then, if you’re going to hate Jesu for droning too much, you probably shouldn’t have put ‘em on in the first place. “The Stars That Hang Above You” is more manageable at about half the running time, and just as solid. The tracks lack the flow of Envy’s material, though. Not that it’s a knock or anything. It’s just that Jesu’s songs work more individually, especially since “Hard to Reach” cycles through a number of ideas before its conclusion.

I know it’s been a year since these songs were written and recorded and what-not, but I can’t help but wonder where Envy and Jesu will go from here. Envy’s half of this split is arguably the best I’ve heard from them so far. Jesu’s got a full-length and an EP nearing completion for 2009. Until then, at least I’ve got five more nighttime ocean jams.

regarding Michael Jackson's death.

Although his feud with Prince ended years ago, it seems fitting that Michael Jackson should upstage Purple Rain's 25th anniversary with his death. Even better, he went out with so much ahead of him - a comeback album with will.i.am, plus a massive farewell to live shows in London for this summer. The guy was still hungry.

If anyone is in need of revisionist history, it's Jackson. The molestation charges, the reclusive behavior, the addiction to cosmetic surgery... these are the cultural baggage he amassed in life. But art outpaces artists. In the end, Jackson left behind a wealthy catalog of pop tunes. Forget comparing The Beatles to Elvis or the Stones; which is better, "She Loves You" or The Jackson 5's "ABC?" "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" vs. "I Want You Back?" "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" vs. "I Am Love?" How does Rubber Soul hold up against Thriller? Forget the canonization of the former and the demonization of the latter, and you'll find some interesting answers.

Jackson, along with The Beatles, was my first pop obsession growing up. I listened to Thriller a lot. I watched The Wiz and Moonwalker a fair bit too, although to this day I have no idea why and how Moonwalker was made. The short, redundant reason why I loved these things is because they were fun. The full truth takes longer to explain.

For a while at least, Jackson was a brilliant idea man, from songwriting to choreography to filmography. The "Thriller" video holds up as a legitimately great horror short film, not to mention an excellent song 'n' dance sequence. And while he never topped Thriller (then again, how could he?), he continued to put out some of my favorite videos into the '90s, including "Scream" and "They Don't Care About Us," although the latter's anti-Semitic tone totally went over my head as a youth.

Point is, the guy left behind some of the most enduring, alluring songs of the last 40 years. These songs prevail because they're so catchy and danceable, not to mention occasionally stirring. They succeed because they are fun. And inclusive. While his later material became surprisingly angry, Jackson was a family-friendly musician. Your parents and friends alike could groove to "Billie Jean" or "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'."

We're running out of superstars. But that just highlights their importance more.

The Jammy Dodgers - 'Fish 'n' Chips'

What’s that, punk rock seven-inch from No Idea Records? You’re totally awesome? The Florida label continues to roll out top notch tunes, this time courtesy of Gainesville’s The Jammy Dodgers’ Fish ‘n’ Chips. Get passed the, heh, dodgy artwork – seriously, did your kid draw this? – and there’s plenty of peppy punk to be had.

While co-vocalist Izzy Alacratraz’s helium-high pipes skew towards cute, it just makes her indignation towards modern America that much more biting. The Jammy Dodgers specialize in literate, angry punk and/or food references (Jammie Dodgers are a popular British biscuit line). The sound is loose and raw – think Ergs!, Shorebirds, The Measure [SA], or even Black Flag’s My War sped up to 45 RPMs – but still catchy, especially on “Laundry Day,” the last of the vinyl’s seven tracks.

The hooks are just dressing though. The real substance is in the subject matter. “Descendents” hits on American guilt over benefiting from the oppression of Native Americans (or First Nation if you're Canadian). “We are soldiers of on foreign soil that we got no right to claim,” the band says. The resolution? “We’ve got to try and set things right / And we’ve got to tell the truth / We’ve got to admit just what we are / It’s the least that we can do / Don’t pledge / Don’t salute / Scream fuck you!” “No Gods No Masters” takes materialism to task, but with enough humor – “Your mustache does not give you authority over me!” – to avoid sounding preachy.

Galvanizing in word and sound, perhaps The Jammy Dodgers’ M.O. is best summed up by this line from “Get It On”: “Listen to what people say / And give them a fair chance / But remember that talk is cheap / And action’s where it’s at.”

regarding Spike Jonze's latest.

Spike Jonze has a super cool blog going called We Love You So. It's meant to shed some light on the ridiculously lengthy wait for his upcoming film Where the Wild Things Are, as well to explain the work and inspirations that went into its creation, but he's been posting on bands, exhibits, and the like as well. Overall, it's Jonze bein' Jonze, which means it's a great read.

And seriously, how cool is this trailer?

Playlist: Jawbreaker

[In an effort to generate mo' content, I figured I'd share some playlists on my iPod. Whenever I try to make a mix, I opt to keep it short enough to either burn to a CD (> 80 minutes) or commit to a tape (> two hours). The 80 minute rule is good because it A) forces me to stick to the best of the best, B) makes it easier to get multiple plays, and C) can be burned to a disc for friends if they ever ask for a sampling of a given artist.]

Being one of the best punk, emo, and alternative bands of all ding dang time, Jawbreaker has had a profound influence this here life of mine. If you've been keeping up with my top 10 project, you already know I've loved Jawbreaker since I was younger and about 50 pounds lighter. Blake Schwarzenbach remains one of my favorite lyricists of all time, so much so that I bothered to learn how to spell his name. There's plenty of sadness, yes, but his songs with Jawbreaker describe punky youth to me perfectly. The awkward moments between flirting and kissing ("Chesterfield King"), the shitty shows you play with your shitty band ("Tour Song"), medical problems ("Outpatient," "Accident Prone"), the weird posturing we go through to seem cool ("Bad Scene, Everyone's Fault," "Boxcar"), the drinking - my word the drinking - are all covered. Many of the songs are unquestionably about Schwarzenbach and him alone, but his struggle for normalcy is universal. It would get a lot vaguer once he started Jets to Brazil, as well as factor fame into the writing, but that's another playlist altogether now, ain't it?

Each of Jawbreaker's albums exists as its own entity, so I didn't even bother trying to blend eras. This playlist more or less goes chronoligically, with a few exceptions. I go pretty overboard on Dear You material at the end, but that's my favorite album so ya'll can eat me. I know the stated purpose of these playlists is to make a running time that would fit on a CD-R to give to someone, and I actually did make this playlist with the intention of giving it to my girlfriend so she could learn about Jawbreaker. I didn't. But, ya know, I'll get around to it.

1. "Intro," Live 4/30/96 [Well, it had to start somehow...]
2. "Want," Unfun
3. "Caroline," Etc.
4. "Big," Bivouac
5. "Chesterfield King," Bivouac
6. "Face Down," Bivouac
7. "Tour Song," Bivouac
8. "Kiss the Bottle," Etc. [The most overrated underrated Jawbreaker song, and with good reason.]
9. "I Love You So Much It's Killing Us Both" For Callum [This alternate mix is killer.]
10. "Indictment," 24 Hour Revenge Therapy
11. "Outpatient," 24 Hour Revenge Therapy
12. "Ashtray Monument," 24 Hour Revenge Therapy
13. "Do You Still Hate Me?", 24 Hour Revenge Therapy
14. "Ache," 24 Hour Revenge Therapy
15. "Save Your Generation," Dear You
16. "Accident Prone," Dear You
17. "Jet Black," Dear You
18. "Bad Scene, Everyone's Fault," Dear You
19. "Into You Like a Train," Dear You re-release
20. "Basilica," Dear You
21. "Untitled," Dear You
22. "Boxcar," Dear You re-release [Sweet kiss-off. I've always preferred this cleaner version.]

Joe Strummer - 'Earthquake Weather'

“Let’s rock again!” – Joe Strummer, “Gangsterville”

Sooner or later, every artist spends some time “in the wilderness.” He and/or she loses his and/or her artistic perspective and struggles to create more, ya know… art. Depending on who you ask, Joe Strummer either spent one year in the wilderness – the time it took to make the horrid final Clash album Cut the Crap and the actually pretty good Sid and Nancy soundtrack, say I – or 16 – from the time Joe kicked Mick Jones out of The Clash until the release of Rock Art and the X-Ray Style, his first album with The Mescaleros. Either way, we are contractually obligated by good taste to agree that Joe’s late period work was ridiculously awesome, upon penalty of sounding like a cock that I will not tolerate.

But the road to critical redemption was rough. After he lost Jones as a songwriting partner, Strummer struggled to find a musical balance. He was arguably one of the best lyricists of all time, but Strummer’s greatest strength – his rambling, playful, internal rhymes – became he biggest flaw when he lost Mick’s pop sensibility. In some folks’ eyes, the guy just couldn’t write catchy songs anymore. Those people can cram it into every last orifice for all I care, though. In 1989, Joe Strummer returned to form with a devastatingly underappreciated solo LP, Earthquake Weather.

Unfairly maligned (and compared to Jones’ new project Big Audio Dynamite.) upon its release, the record eventually achieved somewhat of a cult following among Strummer enthusiasts like myself. On a certain level, I guess I understand why some critics didn’t dig the album. When you’re the guy who wrote London Calling, I imagine a lot of your other stuff seems petty by comparison, but even Strummer's lesser releases are better than most.

Earthquake Weather is perhaps best explained as the prequel to Joe’s run with The Mescaleros, filtered through cheesy ’80s production. The album transcends its studio limitations, however, showcasing the hurricane of influences that coursed through Joe’s veins. Elements of punk, rockabilly, reggae, folk, ska, funk, Caribbean and pop music intertwine. At times delirious, Earthquake Weather also feels like a Brian Wilson moment for Joe; it’s crammed with instruments and changes, as if the man never could make up his mind on how to go solo. And outside of scoring films, it would take him another decade to release another album.

But from the gentle rhythms of “Island Boogie” to the stomp ‘n’ pomp of “Gangstervielle” to the awkwardly Prince/Red Hot Chili Peppers-esque “Boogie With Your Children,” Earthquake Weather shows the guy still had a lot of potential, ideas, and talent left. I’ll be clear; it doesn’t exceed any of The Clash’s albums with Jones, nor does it beat the Mescaleros' three releases. But it is a pleasant bridge between the two. It’s not a perfect album – again I cite the RHCP tone on “Boogie With Your Children” – but it is a charming one. Earthquake Weather is out of print now, but it’s available on iTunes. A CD or two always pops up on eBay for those looking for a physical copy. Either way, I hope more people tune in to Joe’s post-Clash work.

Jawbox - 'Jawbox'

[I know I talked about how much I liked Jawbox's self-titled album for my top 10 project, but punknews.org was lacking a review of it, which I opted to rectify.]

Can we come together as a nation and say, “Hey Mr. President! Jawbox ruled! On an unrelated note, no blood for oil!”? For those not down with the D.C. sound, Jawbox was a post-hardcore band from the early ’90s. Helmed by former Government Issue bassist J. Robbins, who’s unfortunately been in a lot of news articles lately in connection to his son’s health issues, the group turned out four might fine studio albums (and a great odds-n-ends collection) before going bust. “Selling out” has always been a major talking point in the punk community; it’s like our version of the abortion issue or something. It is in this sense that Jawbox is something of an anomaly: A Dischord-oriented band that not only got away with signing to a major label, but got better after doing so. A lot of folks like to talk up the band’s third album, For Your Own Special Sweetheart (das Org even gives it a perfect score), but the band’s best, in my humble opinion, didn’t come into view until 1996’s Jawbox.

Jawbox broke up not long after releasing their self-titled album, but at least they went out on a kickass note. While the group’s Dischord years were all about grinding nonstop, Jawbox found the group experimenting with tempos more. The album has an ebb and flow sequencing to it, starting off powerfully with “Mirrorful” and “Livid.” Then the vibe mellows out for the slow groove of “Iodine” before bursting into the manic intensity of “His Only Trade.” “Trade” is one of my favorite Jawbox songs ever, thanks to the frenetic drum part and overlapping vocals – the song is so fast J. Robbins can’t sing all the words by himself. The off-time “Chinese Fork Tie” pounds out its own special place in my heart too, as do the crazy club-stompers “Won’t Come Off” and “Empire of One.” The record also boasts a great hidden track, a cover of Tori Amos’ “Cornflake Girl,” further confirming Amos’ place in rock music.

Robbins was always a little more interested in musical professionalism, and that’s why his production has always been a little bit cleaner. While I tend to favor lo-fi, a Robbins production has always sat well with me – the guy knows what he’s doing. Same goes for his songwriting. So while some may criticize Jawbox for being the cleanest sounding Jawbox album, in my mind that’s not really much of a weakness. Robbins never overproduces his records, and he certainly doesn’t do so here with co-producer John Angello. The record may not have a Steve Albini-like rawness, but listeners do get all of the instruments presented with a powerful clarity.

Listening to Jawbox 12 years after its release, it’s bizarre to think that the band was dropped from Atlantic Records for a “perceived lack of singles.” The longest song is still under 4:30 in length. In my mind, the label really should have pushed to get Jawbox on the radio and them MTVs, because they were sitting on an album loaded with catchy, muscular rock gems.

regarding Julia Nunes

So, I tried finding a relevant Counting Crows music video on YouTube for the post below, and I failed hard (curse you disabled embedding!). But whilst searching in vain, I came across this lil lady named Julia Nunes:





Ms. Nunes keeps a vlog on YouTube, where she posts videos of ukulele covers like the ones above, plus originals. She's gots some CDs too. Check out her Web site if yer down with the sound.

Jawbreaker news?!

Get ready to fill the cups dudes and/or dudettes, courtesy of former Jawbreaker members Adam Pfahler and Black Schwarzenbach:

Hey, just a quick update on what's going on in the Jawbreaker world...

The last bulletin I posted mentioned the Unfun remaster. I am going back down to LA this weekend to do it again. There were "flutters" in that first pass, which is a techie way of saying that gummy leader tape splices between the songs made the beginnings and endings sound like they had been drinking, which is a longwinded way of saying that it was fucked up, though no fault of the Man Himself John Golden. Unfun will be available online through the usual providers and in stores in early 2009 on Blackball Records. Extras will include the 7" mix of Busy and alternate mixes of Want and Fine Day. The CD and LP will be available exclusively at Hot Topic for the first few months of release, and then will go out to the mom and pops. Hot Topic, you ask? I said it. They have been incredibly supportive these past few years, stocking our records and shirts in all of their stores. Jawbreaker swag doesn't make it into a lot of national chains, so I'm happy that it's out there where kids can get to it. They recently added Etc. (the b-sides, singles and out-takes compilation with Kiss the Bottle). So if you happen to live out in the boonies, or your indie store just bit the dust of the download revolution, and you still like having something in your hands to peruse-- they carry our stuff. And while you're at the mall, why not visit Starbucks for a refreshing caffeinated beverage, and perhaps pick up a pair of pleated khaki slacks at the Gap? Ah, that's better...

A lot of the myspace people are asking me about the status of the documentary that Tim Irwin and Keith Schieron (We Jam Econo: The Story of the Minutemen) are making. I'd say they are halfway there. Like I said before, these guys have real jobs (and a new kid-- congrats, Keith!) and are making this movie catch-as-catch-can on their own dime, to mix idioms. We just got copies of the Dear You masters and they are going to interview Rob Cavallo next and have him go through a couple of songs.

Which brings me to sad news. Jerry Finn, our friend who mixed Dear You, passed away last month. I do not feel qualified to eulogize Jerry-- we worked with him all too briefly back in 1995. But our time was intimate, and we kept in touch via email over the years. I considered him a friend and ally. The last time we were in contact I begged him to be in our movie. But Jerry wasn't comfortable patting himself on the back in an on camera interview. I think he was content to let the music do the talking, as it were. That's a smooth character right there. Or maybe he just didn't want to give up any of his studio secrets (I'll divulge one here: to keep morale up, when greeting the still reeling from signing to a major label band, say, "Hey, Little Fighters!" That'll do the trick.) So the next time you hear a song made in the last fifteen years that punches you in the stomach while kissing you on the lips, you have Jerry Finn to thank.

I don't like to speak for my fellow Jbs. I'll hand it over to Blake and send a Chris update when I hear from him…

A Note/Update from Blake Schwarzenbach:

Because I am bad at speaking about myself but excel at projecting my identity onto others and then destroying them I will be brief. I am currently defending my master's thesis at Hunter College in Manhattan, making music in an as yet unnamed group, and fighting with words on Facebook (it's an all ages page, meaning you don't have to be a 'friend' to read it; although I think you do need an account, which is free and relatively non-invasive. Come on by!) My thesis is on Percy Bysshe Shelley, who appears to have gotten almost everything right and paid dearly for it. The paper focuses on Shelley's technique of pushing metaphor until all connection between sign and signified is shattered and either some new truth declares itself or a sublime vacuum opens up and we are confronted with the void. Exciting stuff, I assure you, especially when one considers that he was a fiercely principled Republican (in the 18th century meaning of the term: friend of suffrage and the French Revolution, foe of monarchy and moneyed interests), an atheist, a vegetarian, and a wild-eyed beauty in verse. What's not to celebrate? Well, as it happens, he was universally ignored, reviled, humiliated or suppressed and died in exile. So, this is what I devote my academic energies to, which brings into even starker relief the historically blind trammeling and dismemberment of the U.S. constitution that has gone on these past eight years.

Musically, and I think maybe I can speak more clearly about this, I feel as though I am emerging from a kind of muted, reflective nuclear winter. It's awkward to talk about one's own music since that is what we ask the music to do; so I'll say only that it meets my own inner-standard of truth. I believe in it enough to overcome my own fear of making it. Hopefully we'll find a bassist (a woman, over 30, who rides a bike and can resolve any dictionary disputes that might arise between the drummer and myself) and come to a town near you.

Finally, thank you friends and enthusiasts of Jawbreaker. We did this thing for a long time in the dark - as all bands must - and it is gratifying to hear of younger people finding the band and getting it. The goal was always to connect with others and that seems to have happened so I think we can all claim success in that project.

Kind regards,

Blake

Joy Electric - 'The Otherly Opus'

Hailing from sunny California, one man band Ronnie Martin has been turning out synthpop records under Joy Electric for over a decade. His latest, The Otherly Opus, out now on Tooth & Nail Records, is a run of the mill electronic affair.

Album opener “The Otherly Opus” dictates the agenda for the next 33 minutes, and it’s a bit of a mixed bag. On the plus side, Joy Electric does haunting synthpop songs well enough. On the negative side, well, there’s just not a lot of variety to be found in a collection of swirling, slow burning pseudo-dance numbers. On this introductory track, Martin keeps his hooks simple (the title is the chorus, repeated ad nauseum), and his beats are just as basic (4/4, bass on 1 and 3, snare on 2 and 4).

“Frivolity and Its Necessities” continues in the same vein, as do the eight tracks that follow it. But there’s something deceptively simple about them. These songs are legitimately haunting, in that their spooky hooks will linger around listeners’ heads for sometime, so much so that the work almost takes on a superior quality in thought over the actual listening process.

Sometimes the catchiness is due to saturation. The “whoas” on “The Ushering In of a Magical Era” are a tad excessive. The incessant repetition of the word “memory” in “The Memory of Alpha” is inane. But some tracks are touching, like the wistful “Write Your Last Paragraph,” have a gothic pop sensibility about them that will slowly bring listeners in. It’s not as a catchy or fun as, say, The Cure, but the interest is still there.

What would be great to hear from Joy Electric would be more songs like track seven, the brilliant rave-up “Red Will Dye These Snows of Silver.” Listeners who are willing to forgive this song’s lame title will find themselves enjoying some quality synthpop that’s equally heavy on both parts. Granted, the track repeats the album’s mistake of having just about every gosh darn song chant its title early on, but it’s still a fun track. Same goes for “(The Timbre) of the Timber Colony.”

The boon and bane of The Otherly Opus is that it goes by too smoothly. It does not challenge the listener, nor does it provide him and/or her with a whole lot to consider. It’s catchy, but not memorable. Listeners will remember the hooks, sure, but not the lyrics. Joy Electric has mastered the “otherly” quality of these songs, but the “opus” part is far from magnum.

Jupiter Watts - 'Jupiter Watts'

In music, everything gets recycled sooner or later. Even silly things like big band jazz and disco were resuscitated by acts like The Brian Setzer Orchestra and Jamiroquai, respectively. In the last few years, the pop charts have seen a resurgence of ’80s new wave via The Killers, The Bravery, etc. A few years have passed since then, though, so I’d say we’re about due to progress from ’83 to, say, ’89 – the year The Stone Roses invented Britpop with their seminal self-titled debut.

With their likewise eponymous album, the members of Atlanta, GA rock band Jupiter Watts have perfected a blend of Britpop-style psychedelic bravado and new millennial indie pop softness. Striking a balance between Oasis and The Changes, The Stone Roses and Death Cab for Cutie, this new record is a stunning collection of pop mastery, intricate musicianship, and classy jams.

Album opener “Felix” begins with a quick pace and a morose atmosphere as co-vocalists James Trigg and Ramon Wals play off each other. It’s a gorgeously somber pop song to kick off with, and it sets the schedule for the album nicely.

The Britpop slant of the album comes out more fully on track two, “Crown.” The drums are a bit funkier and Trigg’s vocals are a bit snottier, but it’s still just as satisfying a track as “Felix.” Recalling the ol’ Gallagher brothers at their cockiest, the song is only 17 seconds longer than the previous one, yet incorporates far more flourishes, reaching a frantic, sax-laden crescendo that feels epic and monumental while still ending under the 4:30 mark. The listener gets all of the urgency of Be Here Now without any of the boredom and self-indulgence of… Be Here Now.

Track five, “The Cloud,” sums up the album’s dichotomy perfectly. Instrumentally, it hearkens back to early Death Cab for Cutie gems like You Can Play These Songs With Chords and Something About Airplanes. But the vocals and drums have just a scootch bit more cajones, skewing towards Sgt. Pepper pseudo-psychadelia.

Jupiter Watts starts a down-tempo fallout with “On the Water” and “Hello,” but quickly reasserts itself with the oddly Sonic Youth-y No Wave of “Hit the Ground.” But the song isn’t nearly as drastic as one may think – Jupiter Watts still pack it with melody and ambiance. This song and “Our Lesson Learned” serve as a thrilling conclusion.

Overall, Jupiter Watts are a great band with a delicious sound. While the areas they cover are well worn, there are few bands that travel them so well. Alternately sensitive, danceable, and crushing, this self-titled release is one of the best rock records of 2007.

Michael Jackson - 'Thriller'

I’d like to present you with two truths, one personal and one universal. The personal: Michael Jackson’s Thriller was the first album I was ever obsessed with. The title track was the first song on the first mix tape I ever made back when I was maybe six or seven years old (The tape also featured the X-Men theme song, “Jeepers Creepers” from an old Porky Pig cartoon of the same name and the opening music from Spider-Man 2 for Game Boy). But as far as non-animated tunes went, "Thriller" was tops.

Now here’s the universal truth: There is a copy of Thriller in every household in the world. It could be on vinyl, cassette or CD. Like me, you could have taken your family’s copy with you to college. If your household doesn’t have a copy of Thriller, it is because A) Your family sold it in a yard sale for 15 cents, B) It’s hidden in your crawlspace/attic, forgotten or C) You were right all along; your parents are robots/aliens/both, and you should call the government.

With over 100 million copies sold worldwide, Thriller is the highest-selling record of all time, so I’m not totally off-base for asserting that everyone besides space cyborgs has it. To commemorate the album’s 25th anniversary, Epic has released three special editions. There’s a 16-track disc with covers by current pop stars like Black Eyed Peas and Kanye West, a deluxe 16-tracker with a book and an iTunes release with 35—count ’em—35 tracks, including three music videos and a clip of Jackson’s “Billie Jean” performance from Motown’s own 25th anniversary back in the ’80s. For the sake of this article, I bought the iTunes deluxe edition for $19.90.

Listening to Thriller’s original nine tracks is a true pop joy. The record sounds just as great as it did during my childhood and, I’m guessing, when it was released in 1982. Album opener “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’” is six minutes of pop, disco, R&B and world music merging into perfection. The grooving bass and guitar, the clinking hi-hat and, of course, Jackson’s trademark vocals fuse into a wonderfully funky effect that flows from the verse to the chorus. It gets even better when the song hits its true hook, the “ma ma se, ma ma sa, ma ma coo sa” outro.

Much of Thriller sounds the same today as then—Vincent Price’s rap on “Thriller” is still awesome, Paul McCartney’s duet with Jackson on “The Girl is Mine” is still incredibly cheesy (yet cute) and “Billie Jean” is still one of the best R&B singles of all time. Some of Thriller is quite surprising all these years later, though. “Beat It” is pretty flippin’ metal for a pop tune, thanks to Eddie Van Halen’s c-c-c-razy guitar solo.

So, yeah, in case you were wondering, Thriller is still awesome.

What isn’t awesome is the glut of bonus tracks. The covers are mostly crap. Peas’ mastermind will.i.am does an all right job reworking the instrumentals on “The Girl is Mine” with a sexier groove, but his rapping completely undoes the flow. His constant assertion that “She like the way I rock” is stupid. There’s no other word for it. “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’” is six minutes long, will.i.am’s “The Girl is Mine” is three minutes long, and somehow those lengths feel inverted when listening. Oh, and the less said about Fergie’s “Beat It 2008” and will.i.am’s “P.Y.T.,” the better.

The other covers are more decent. Akon’s take on “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’” can’t compare to the original, but his piano intro and stripped down melody at least make the song his own. Oddly enough, notorious egomaniac Kanye West stays the most faithful to his cut, a “Billie Jean” remix that adds a more hip-hop-based beat. While he removes most of the original arrangements, the vibe remains similar. Neither Akon nor West can compare to Jackson the composer, though, and these tunes sound noticeably emptier.

Aside from some sweet Price outtakes and Thriller’s music videos (Zombies! Yes!), the rest of the bonus material is of a one-and-done sort. There are seven different versions of “Billie Jean,” and while five are arguably good (although some would say you only need the single edit), no one needs to hear the 1981 demo or the “Underground Mix.” Nor do they need to hear the numerous interviews with Thriller producer Quincy Jones, who sounds like Bill Cosby with a mouthful of cotton balls. I respect his craft, but I don’t need to hear him sing Jackson’s melodies and tell directionless stories. It’s just awkward.

While E.T. cut “Someone in the Dark” and true rarities “For All Time” and “Carousel” might appeal to completionists, they are again not of pressing importance. The far superior “Human Nature” took the place of ballad “Carousel” on Thriller, and it’s obvious why—everything from the lyrics to the hooks are better. So overall, the bonus material isn’t too hot. Still, though, Thriller’s original nine songs and three music videos (Where's "The Girl is Mine?") make for a brilliant pop listening experience, and even some of those covers aren’t too heinous. Thank goodness for iTunes’ pick-and-choose option.

Joe Jackson - 'Rain'

Roughly five years after he returned to the punk/ska/pop hybrid that made him famous (and interesting) on pseudo-comeback record Volume 4, Joe Jackson has slipped back into the role of “boring old man” on new album Rain. Like Volume 4, it features the original Joe Jackson trio that turned out such great pop rock records as Look Sharp! and I’m the Man, allowing for some solid playing among the three members. But while bass player Graham Maby thoroughly explores the space afforded three-pieces and drummer Dave Houghton stays steady and assured, they can do little to liven up the dull arrangements Jackson has come up with on this new record.

Like Elvis Costello and even Ben Folds’ recent solo work, aging has sucked the force out of Jackson’s songwriting. Where ’70s tunes like “Got the Time” and “On Your Radio” had nervous energy and a raw punk-ish guitar edge, Rain is piano-based and, primarily, mellow. While a couple of tunes on the 10 track disc, like “Citizen Sane” and “King Pleasure Time,” carry an old style rock ‘n’ roll vibe, the overall feeling is dull. Some cuts, like “Solo (So Low),” refer back to the loser angst of hits like “Is She Really Going Out With Him?” and “One More Time,” but again, in a lackluster fashion.

By his own admission on the album’s accompanying drear-fest of a DVD, Jackson has always been a better composer than a lyricist, and this especially holds true on Rain. He whips out some brilliant piano parts on the jazzy “Uptown Train,” and the overall haunting pop of opener “Invisible Man” is quite catchy. But there’s no defending the verbal clunkers littering the disc—“You know I hate it when you talk this way/‘Cause you don’t listen to a word you say,” “If you want to live forever/Ask a doctor/Someone clever,” “We hear you, we see it/You do it like you wanna be it” and so on. The best/creepiest line goes to “Rush Across the Road,” a ditty about seeing a pretty girl on the other side of your average boulevard, avenue, street or coastal highway: “Maybe I should/Rush across the road/Leave my heavy load behind.” Dude, that is not in keeping with the spirit of the Affirmation.

Still, though, Rain isn’t completely lacking in entertainment value. It’s just very middling. Jackson’s 53-year-old voice has held up well and his piano skills are top notch even when accompanying such tripe as “Solo (So Low).” Same goes for the rest of the trio—I cannot emphasize how cool some of Maby’s bass lines sound underneath Jackson’s piano playing. Rain boasts some solid performing in the vein of Jackson’s Night and Day series; it’s just the writing that needs more effort.

Various Artists - 'Juno'

I’m having a rough time reviewing the Juno soundtrack. You see, I’ve never had such a grudge against an album I really, really liked before. As a companion to the film, it’s a delicious memory jogger. Listening to Barry Louis Polisar’s “All I Want is You” instantly recalls the film’s cartoonish opening credits.

Even more iconic is perhaps the album’s closing track, a cover of The Moldy Peaches’ “Anyone Else But You” by stars Ellen Page and Michael Cera. After traveling the rough road through love and childbirth, this live take between the two actors is packed with emotion and eloquence. The way they sing lines like “We sure are cute for two ugly people/I don’t see what anyone can see in anyone else/But you” hits me hard.

It’s in between these two tracks, however, that I start to take issue. But we’ll get to that later; let’s focus on the positive. Juno the album is a well-crafted collection of indie pop, a soundtrack for the twee kids like The Crow was for goths and Singles, Empire Records and Reality Bites were for gen-X-ers. It’s another Garden State soundtrack.

Anti-folkster Kimya Dawson is the heart of this disc, with nine cuts, in one form or another, to her credit. Some, like “My Rollercoaster” and “Sleep,” are reduced to quick interludes. Full-length tunes like “Loose Lips” and “So Nice So Smart” are packed with lyrical twists and comedic asides. They’re verbose and crass, yet instantly memorable and heartfelt. And again, her Moldy Peaches song “Anyone Else But You” is such an incredible tune that it was included twice here.

Other songs that figure into the film include Mott the Hoople’s “All the Young Dudes,” from the super-creepy dance scene between Page and Jason Bateman, and Sonic Youth’s “Superstar,” a track representative of Bateman’s aging ’90s hipster.

But then there’s a whole lot of indie pop thrown in that doesn’t really represent any characters or scenes. Page’s title character spends a lot of time arguing that ’77 was the best year for music, and her three favorite artists are Iggy Pop and The Stooges, Patti Smith and The Runaways. It is frustrating then, to have the central character of the whole freaking movie so ignored on the soundtrack. “I Wanna Be Your Dog” or “Because the Night” would have fit in. “Gloria,” hell even Lita Ford’s “Kiss Me Deadly” would work. Instead, the album offers Belle & Sebastian and Cat Power and older artists like Buddy Holly and The Kinks. While these acts are great in their own right, they don’t stylistically represent the girl on film who loves Raw Power and knows the words and chords to Hole’s “Doll Parts.”

It is in this regard that the Juno soundtrack feels like a cash-in from Fox Searchlight Pictures and Rhino Records. If you like the soundtracks to Wes Anderson films or Little Miss Sunshine, you’ll probably dig Juno. It’s a solid collection of indie pop gems, one which flows without a hitch from start to finish. It’s just a shame it doesn’t represent the story or its characters very well.

Jimmy Eat World - 'Chase This Light'

After a decade-plus spent exploring new angles of their sound, Arizona rockers Jimmy Eat World finally ran out of ideas. Clarity pushed for soft, majestic grandeur, Bleed American went for concise pop singles and Futures found a way to synthesize the two. But with 2007’s Chase This Light, the band has settled for a midlevel malaise, never reaching the epic levels of Clarity or the catchy realms of Bleed American.

Jimmy Eat World’s song structures mostly follow the verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-chorus convention. They start and end with little else; while staying simple can be a songwriting virtue, here it makes most of the tunes indistinguishable. This is especially true for tracks eight through 11.

Producer Butch Vig, who has helmed some of the best rock records ever made (Nirvana’s Nevermind, The Smashing Pumpkin’s Siamese Dream and Against Me!’s New Wave), hurts the songs just as much. While his super slick overdubbing prowess enhances cuts like “Big Casino” and “Gotta Be Somebody’s Blues,” overall he renders Chase This Light a lifeless, cluttered and unremarkable studio creation.

Buried beneath rehashed chords and overproduction, however, is frontman Jim Adkins, who is still every bit as empathetic a singer and lyricist as ever. Chase This Light finds him struggling with getting older. On lead single “Big Casino,” he writes, “I’ll tell you something else you ain’t died enough to know/There’s still some living left when your prime comes and goes.”

When Adkins hits the chorus of “I’ll accept with poise/with grace/when they draw my name from lottery,” one can’t help but feel that he’s singing about the music industry.

Jimmy Eat World was hot to trot back in 2001 when “The Middle” dropped, but since then these angsty rockers have been supplanted by Fall Out Boy, Taking Back Sunday, Panic! at the Disco, Paramore, etc. Having watched his peers in The Get Up Kids, The Promise Ring, Mineral, and so on fall apart, Adkins is surrounded by a bunch of kids he can’t relate with much.

He keeps his lyrics specific enough to provide a story, but vague enough to feel applicable to anyone. The music industry interpretation of “Big Casino,” and all of Chase This Light in general, is just one of several viewpoints one could take.

Adkins’ other saving grace is his infectious melodies. While his guitar parts lack crunch, his “whoa-ohs” are still top notch. Mock clunkers like “Dizzy” and “Firefight” all you want; but, if you can’t hop on hits like “Let It Happen” or “Electable (Give It Up),” then you’re just a jerk.

Musically, Chase This Light is a Bleed American/Futures throwback with diminished returns. Not as catchy or heart-tugging as those albums, the middling Chase This Light still has a few knockout sure-to-be-singles.

Jeremy Enigk - 'The Missing Link'

Jeremy Enigk has never been a prolific man. Granted, his work with Sunny Day Real Estate helped steer emo from its hardcore roots towards punk/indie rock in the ’90s, arguably the genre’s best period, and his album with The Fire Theft proved that it didn’t matter how many members Foo Fighters stole, the guy was still going to rock. But the stop-start jitters that plagued SDRE, who broke up in between every album it released, and The Fire Theft, who have yet to record a sophomore release, have also extended to Enigk’s solo work... until now.

While there was a 10 year gap between the orchestral folk of The Return of the Frog Queen and the more indie feel of World Waits, Enigk has chosen to release his third solo disc, The Missing Link, just 10 months after his last one. Granted, there are only four new tracks here, with five live renditions of material from World Waits at the end, so it’s more like a studio EP and a concert EP thrown together. But The Missing Link is exactly what the title suggests; it provides outtakes from the World Waits sessions and throws in some live tracks to help put it context more easily.

The Missing Link opens with “Oh John,” and it bears the familiar jangley guitar and raspy voice of Enigk. Catchy but subdued, it’s a somber opener. “Chewing Gum” and “Tatseo Show” follow suit, with a string section to add an extra layer of sound. Things start to pick up halfway through track four, “On the Wayside,” which has a folksy rock swagger about it that might appeal to fans of current acts like I Can Make a Mess Like Nobody’s Business.

The second half of the disc consists of live cuts, and the difference between these versions and their studio counterparts fluctuates. In the case of “River to Sea,” the song sounds subtly fuller, with additional synth and electric guitar to complement Enigk’s advice to “turn around/your life is in your hands.” Later, “Been Here Before” and “Canons” sound the same, but with more emphasis. Maybe it’s Kaanan Tupper’s more emphatic drumming, or just a general from the whole band to rock out the material a little further. Either way you like, these songs sound great.

Closing track “World Waits” goes the opposite route, though, going for a stripped down, more somber tone. Part of this change is due to the setting; the vocal and piano tracks aren’t doubled like on World Waits. Half a minute longer than before, this live cut is beautiful in its bare, mid-tempo simplicity. Oh, and it has a cute guitar solo.

While by no means as essential as, say, SDRE’s Diary or How It Feels to Be Something On, The Missing Link proves that Enigk is still kicking out impressive tunes, just of a different, mellower suit. Now get back to work on that Fire Theft follow-up.