The Musical Concern
The Dead Weather
Horehound
(July 14, 2009 – Third Man/Warner Bros.)

Remember a few years back, when Jack White went moon-raking crazy because his latest White Stripes record “leaked” on the Internet? Yeah, it’s hard to recall those indignant days. The new norm is “the leak” first, followed by an “official stream,” followed by the actual release. I recently saw an “exclusive leak” from one of those American Idol shoemakers. Brilliant!

To gain/retain musical credibility these days, smart bands seek out tony digs and respectable neighbors in the leak cum stream community. The fashion is nicely on display at NPR’s First Listen page. There you’ll find a diverse crowd including everybody from Bjork to Wilco…and now The Dead Weather, a supergroup featuring the once irate Jack White. (If you can’t beat ‘em, spoil ‘em.)

Along with White (drums, vocals, guitar) are Alison Mosshart (vocals, guitar, The Kills), Dean Fertita (guitar, keys, Queens of the Stone Age) and Jack Lawrence (bass, drums, The Raconteurs.) Their rousing debut, Horehound, sports yet another reworking of that Led Zeppelin hustle-n-jive that we all love so well. Verbed out vocals and soul-shredding guitars abound, while a John Bonham thunder of drums provides enough mayhem to drive your kitty under the sofa for a couple of anxious hours.

The downside is Mosshart on the lead vocal. The snotty, bad-girl attitude that she cultivated with The Kills just doesn’t work on this record; it’s eaten alive by the music. Truth is, the album doesn’t wake up until White shows up on track three, “ I Cut Like A Buffalo.” There’s legitimate upheaval during “Rocking Horse” and “New Pony,” before a set of three dance-club hopefuls substantially changes the game. The disjointed and stripped down finale, “Will There Be Enough Water?,” plays out like some wonderful leftover from Van Morrison’s T.B. Sheets – nice touch.

Ultimately, Horehound is about marketing (read fashion + namedropping) and production chops. Jack White has developed superb production chops and a keen nose for marketing. Maybe that’s why he’s less upset about leakage these days; or maybe it’s because the "Seven Nation Army" won the war…on Bit Torrent.


NPR’s First Listen

JH

Digging Up Bones
Thin Lizzy
Renegade
(September 2, 1981 – Warner Bros.)

“Widely considered their worst…”

Why would anyone begin a review, even a retro-view, with those words? Is the fix in? Is the jig up? I’m guessing, yep. Cat’s gotta hit his three paragraphs and move on to the next “widely considered” victim. (Sorry, I read a review from an “archive site” while prepping my own.)

In fairness to the above-mentioned, this record was not well liked when it came out. My guess is that people missed those trademark, harmony guitars. People were afraid of the cheeze-a-sizers (that today, having heard them so much, seem almost inaudible on this record.) In their confusion they bailed on a solid, hard rock set. David Fricke (Rolling Stone Magazine) at the time accused singer/bassist Phil Lynott of phoning it in. Apparently, Fricke was only aware of “Jail Break” era Thin Lizzy. There is absolutely NOTHING on Renegade that sounds as if Lynott or anyone else involved was disengaged. To the contrary.

The boyzz were trying to map out a new direction for a new decade, so, as one might expect, they didn’t simply continue with “Johnny The Fox Meets The Boys Are Back In Town.” If you dig The Lizz, and have thus far steered clear of this one based on scurrilous reviews “phoned in” by thoughtless media hookers, then I urge you to reconsider and pony up!

Worth The Price Of Admission:

A time traveler bares witness to all manner of human devastation, from the San Francisco earthquake, to World War II, to his father’s deathbed in (the all too obviously titled) “Angel of Death.”

Jazz pianist Fats Waller disses Sigmund Freud in the surprisingly pleasant and (you guessed it) jazzy departure, “Fats.”

Lynott plugs vapid Los Angeles with a big ol’ Johnny Cash middle finger when “Lady Chance…won’t dance” in “Hollywood (Down On Your Luck).”

Marty Robbins’ classic “El Paso” gets a nod and an update in “Mexican Blood.”

There’s more, but ain’t that enough? Enough to avoid the overly harsh and half-baked opinions that differ from mine?

Anyway, if you’re familiar with “The Lizz,” and open to a little hard rock, and interested in finding cool stuff in unexpected places, then throw this album on (in the repeat mode) while you piddle around your horrid excuse for an apartment (Kidding, I'm kidding!). And I’m betting that a little something rubs off. So don’t be embarrassed if you find yourself teasing out hidden goodies from a record “widely considered their worst.”

Fats Waller

Marty Robbins

JH

The Gulf Coast Dispatch
Progress And Regress In Any Order

As Tuesday night trickles away, I know that this week’s Concern and Bones aren’t as tight as they ought be. There’s always too much left unsaid, even as the pieces run too long. But just after midnight I’ll hit the “send” key, and for some reason, feel good about the whole endeavor…

An old friend stopped by on Saturday. The two of us sat out by the hoochie-red patio table and sang songs that we had written and sung together a decade ago. He’s still pickin’ the guitar good. His voice is as strong as it was back when. His best songs are as good as I remember, even better.

Me, I had a little trouble hitting the high harmonies…emph.

Late Saturday night, once my guest had packed his guitar and gone, I added a brown paper bag, plus running water with voice to the Make-Do Sounds.

I think it’s done. Maybe mix it this weekend.

Well, that’s it. Soundtrack To Wednesday [07.15.09] is burning. It’ll be up there soon. Oddly enough, this week’s pickings, decades and detractors apart, sound from the same stalk.

Enjoy a beer and a listen.

JH