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Theater of Mineral NADEs
Eyvind Kang
(Tzadik)
Of related interest: Penderecki, Sun City Girls, Indian film music Pure genius can be strange. For the second installment in his series of so-called (and unexplained) NADEs, Eyvind Kang assembled 21 like-minded musicians to pursue just as many musical avenues. It's an effort that took more than a year to complete, and it sprawls like an octopus on all eights. Kang, a Seattle violinist who has worked with artists such as Arto Lindsay, Bill Frisell and the Sun City Girls, conducts his players through 24 short tracks--each a glimpse into his crazed yet ingenious musical mind. For "Consensit Spiritus," he arranges medieval crumhorns into an oompah prance that moves along at a merry pace. A few tracks later, dissonant and repetitious operatic vocals emerge on "Suleiman,"a piece that recalls Stockhausen's epic avant-garde opera Donnerstag aus Licht. Then there's "Lover Not a Hater" and "Mystic NADE," rocksteady dub tunes that work as mellowing pace-setters for the Middle Eastern violin melodies that follow, and which conclude the disc. Excellent sequencing and the absence of silent space between songs keep Theater from becoming a musical soup with too many flavors. Kang's thoughtful arranging allows him to bring together his divergent ideas, making this a fully realized, multifaceted abstractionist masterpiece. Jeff Fuccillo Strung Out in Heaven
The Brian Jonestown Massacre
(TVT)
Of related interest: The Dandy Warhols, The Rolling Stones, The Verve The Brian Jonestown Massacre, Plastiscene
Zoot Suite, 13 NW 13th Ave., 827-4148
9 pm Wednesday, June 17
$7 Given the Brian Jonestown Massacre's reputation for unruly behavior and a lineup that revolves around leader Anton A. Newcombe like a frenetic solar system, it's downright stunning to hear the band's first major release. After six albums of varying quality on obscure labels, the Bay Area ensemble somehow concocted a pastoral song cycle that grafts '60s-era psychedelic loopiness with strummy folk insouciance and catchy melodies straight out of the Brit-pop songbook. For all his pouty rock star bombast (he once manufactured a faux-feud with his allies the Dandy Warhols), Newcombe knows his way around a pop song, and he delivers a slew on Strung Out in Heaven, from the optimistic, Syd Barrett-inspired nursery rhyme "Let's Pretend It's Summer" to the Neil Young-meets-Charlatans sing-along "Wasting Away." If that sounds like a lot of comparisons, it's because they're unavoidable; the Brian Jonestown Massacre isn't looking to break new ground. Rather, Newcombe and his eclectic cast of players seek to chisel out the old ground from under us, and they do so convincingly on this mostly cohesive 13-track collection. Richard Martin Melting Pot
The Charlatans UK
(Beggars Banquet)
Of related interest: Blur's Leisure, Chapterhouse, back issues of Melody Maker There are two major problems with greatest-hits albums: Thrifty consumers who want a one-disc representation of the band don't usually get an accurate impression, while obsessive fans are rarely satisfied with the songs chosen for an all-encompassing collection. The Charlatans' Melting Pot is not exempt from either of these flaws, with the primary gripe being that tracks from the band's strongest album, Between 10th and 11th, are nearly nonexistent; the solvent glow of "Can't Even Be Bothered" and "I Don't Want to See the Sights" are missing like a Manic Street Preachers frontman. And why the hell is the useless stateside-only version of "Sproston Green" on here instead of an early kneebuckler like "White Shirt," or at least a UK remix of the cut? Drab floaters from the quartet's less memorable recent years fill Melting Pot, which only serves to compound the scars of misrepresentation the Manchester band has endured throughout its career. The compilation's few saving graces include the splashy opener "The Only One I Know"--the song responsible for the Charlatans' ill-fitting placement in the tidy shoegazing genre--and contains a sprinkling of other brief hits like the perversely sunny "Weirdo," the rolling anthem "Can't Get Out of Bed," and last year's gorgeous ode to ruffians, "North Country Boy," which was well-employed in the recent boxing film Twenty-Four-Seven. Kristy Ojala |
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