|
Artist: Tim Segreto
Album: Populus
Released: Feb. 21, 2007
Label: reapandsow, Inc.
Online Track to Try:
Lotus Eaters
Tim
Segreto’s music has garnered a smattering of indie accolades
lately, mostly for his seamless melding of electronica and
psychedelic pop into something uniquely sweet and palatable to
many tastes. But for me the trick is his old-fashioned,
harmonized vocal approach: Segreto has a sterling and versatile
voice (a rare enough gift in indie circles today), and an epic,
confident way of layering his choruses to the max. Granted he
strays a bit too far into Coldplay territory every now and then.
But I have little doubt Populus has the potential to
enthrall many a listener who normally wouldn’t be caught dead in
the independent record section, and I freely recommend it as
such.
The funny
thing about imitating Chris Martin is that he himself likely
takes his marching orders directly from Echo and the Bunnymen,
who were in turn influenced by the Doors and Velvet Underground,
and back it goes. Not a bad pedigree, that. Besides, Segreto’s
singing style may actually owe more to Echo’s Ian McCulloch than
anyone else, though what he lacks in heart-stopping bombast
(would anyone else have dared touch “Lips Like Sugar”?) he makes
up for with masterful studio wizardry. Listen to the muscular
“Lotus Eaters” and its hanging lead-in, or the
tightrope-without-a-net chorus of “It’s Gone,” and you hear a
joyous devotion to singing for its own sake, a devotion (pardon
the soapbox repetition) sadly lacking elsewhere in underground
music. Other well-regarded psych-drenched influences are also
evident here, namely the Lassie Foundation, while on the
down-tempo numbers one can hear unmistakable traces of the
London Suede’s more wistful moments. All in all a refreshingly
inspired recording — not without its conspicuous rock roots, but
fully worthy in its own right.
Artist: Plain Jane
Album:
Plain Jane
Released:
1969
Label:
Hobbit
Online
Track to Try: “Who’s Drivin’ This Train”
Speaking
of rock roots, here’s a challenge for all you irrepressible
treasure hunters out there. The heady psychedelic days of the
late ’60s/early ’70s witnessed a proliferation of
indistinguishable ‘me-too’ British and American bands, most of
whom released a couple of forgettable drop-in-the-ocean records
before slithering unlamented back from whence they came. The
trick is to find the sparse handful worth disinterring. Leading
the hoary pack is 1969’s Plain Jane, a vanished
masterpiece of charming rural innocence. But good luck finding
it.
Actually,
locating these lost albums is indeed getting easier, slowly but
surely. Plain Jane was never released on CD, so it isn’t
available on any of the major (legal) music services. But
enterprising amateur hobbyists and collectors have taken the
holy cause of musical preservation upon themselves, transferring
Plain Jane to digital and posting it on Usenet and other
sharing sites. The result is an invigorating and nostalgic
listening experience, not unlike touring an audiophile museum of
late ’60s rock heavyweights. Let’s play “Name That Influence,”
shall we? Early blues-inflected Allman Brothers (“Fire
Hydrant”); crunchy Jim Morrison psych-out (“What Can You Do”);
Jefferson Airplane (“Mrs. Que”); Crosby Stills & Nash (“You
Can’t Make It Alone”); electric Byrds (“That’s How Much”); and
countrified Bob Dylan (“Num - Bird”), to mention a few. But
ironically the best song on this superbly eclectic effort is
also the most original — jaunty album-opener “Who’s Drivin’ This
Train,” whose groovy strum sets up a gorgeous stop-short
chorus guaranteed to throw you over the handlebars. It’s a soft
landing, however, and merely the first hitch on a cracking-good
trip through lost 1960s auditory alchemy.
Marc
Stephens is a Web consultant by day, writer by night. Comments?
E-mail sunpostmusic1 at bellsouth.net.
Listen
online at
www.miamisunpost.com/musicreviews.htm. |
