General rule of
thumb: No alternative music collection is complete without Lloyd
Cole. Granted, nothing he does can possibly match his masterful
mid-’80s output (the sole exception being 2000’s superb The
Negatives). And not just because 1984’s Rattlesnakes
was so phenomenal — around 1990 he decided to go all dark and
moody, cutting his songs’ legs out from under them with
foot-dragging acoustics and lyrics depressing enough to make
Hamlet proud. Who has time for dirge-filled downers like Bad
Vibes or his previous effort, Music in a Foreign Language,
when Cole’s earlier, jauntier work was so much more nourishing?
With Anti
Depressant, the “Alternative Balladeer” finally manages to
meet himself halfway, and the results will no doubt appeal to a
much wider cross-section of his extant fan base. For my own
taste, tunes like “I Didn’t See It Coming” and “Slip Away” sound
a bit too much like those occasional soft duds that disrupted
the flow of his earlier releases. But the man is still capable
of moving hearts and minds when he wants to: There’s no denying
that this is a serious record for adults, boasting a healthy
measure of really nice material — from the citified Billy Joel
sweep of “NYC Sunshine” to the didactic “Woman in a Bar,” as
strong a contender as any for the title of “quintessential L.C.
song.” As always Cole’s guitar work is impeccably clean, with
his band’s backing strings and piano lending climate and spirit
where needed. If you don’t already own Rattlesnakes or
his essential 1984-1989 compilation, start there; if you
do, Anti Depressant won’t disappoint.
Artist:
Jack Frost
Album:Snow Job
Released:
Aug. 7, 1996
Label:
Beggars Banquet
Track to
Try: “Running From the Body”:
Fellow
Australians Steve Kilbey (The Church) and late Go-Between Grant
McLennan teamed up for this obscure two-record side project back
in the ’90s, the first of which (the self-titled Jack Frost)
suffered from the same meandering McLennan touch responsible for
diluting his former band’s earliest releases. But this second
effort drew more heavily on Kilbey’s unimpeachable psychedelic
credentials, relegating McLennan to the background and allowing
Kilbey to oblige his inner epic tunesmith. The result has to be
downloaded to be believed — so focused, so consistently inspired
are these 13 tracks that Snow Job deserves to be
classified as one of the great unheralded alternative
collaborations of the past two decades.
Steve Kilbey’s
career is truly a marvel: 25 years, dozens of records and a
variegated body of work that has influenced who knows how many
musicians. He has an uncanny aptitude for crafting mind-altering
psychedelia, as perfected over the course of a generation’s
worth of Church albums. Melding Beatles-inflected flourishes to
songs whose stamp nonetheless remains strictly his own, Kilbey
genuinely indulges himself here, his ghostly progressions and
bewitching vocals crossing over into hallucinogenic Lennon
territory more than once (“Aviatrix,” “Haze”). Not to say
McLennan is missing in action — in the course of watching
Kilbey’s back he contributes some essential low-key support,
such as his subtly disturbing serial-killer performance on
“Shakedown,” or the harmonic background commentary weaving
through the kaleidoscopic “Running From the Body.” The two
also toss in ample doses of driving rock ’n’ roll, so Snow
Job shouldn’t put anybody to sleep either. It’s really too
bad McLennan, who died in his sleep last year, left us so soon —
another collaboration between these two Aussies would’ve been
wonderful.
