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This week: A grab bag of reviews

Trey Anastasio
Seis de Mayo (Elektra)

The crimson dago takes a vacation from his day job to create orchestrated revisions of Phish songs. “The Inlaw Josie Wales” and “Guyute” soar, “All Things Reconsidered” sinks, and the remaining re-imagined tracks could’ve foregone the tune-up. The two original compositions serve as interesting novelties, but the album itself weighs heavier as a vanity project than concentrated effort. (Clint Casey)

Norman and Nancy Blake
The Morning Glory Ramblers (Dualtone)

The plainness of the singing offsets the precision of the picking as folk music’s favorite utility players work through a set of lovingly selected obscurities and favorites (some dating to the early 19th century). Restrained and tasteful—but recommended anyway. (Jesse Fox Mayshark)

Kanye West
The College Dropout (Roc-A-Fella)

This year’s instant superstar is the sly flipside of last year’s. Where 50 Cent brandished guns and bullet scars, Jay-Z’s Chicago protégé comes on cuddly. And where 50’s secret weapon was unexpectedly sweet pop hooks, Kanye hides more bite and bile than you’d think in his swoony grooves and Munchkin funk. Of course, he’s also a born clown: “Slow Jamz” is either the funniest sexy song of the year or the sexiest funny song, which is even better. (J.F.M.)

Air
Talkie Walkie (Astralwerks)

The French electro-lounge duo has never been as ethereal as they think they are, but they’re nonetheless pleasantly spacey. Especially when they let the girls sing. The only hangup is that, Bacharach affectations notwithstanding, they never really swing. Which is a problem only inasmuch as music like this isn’t meant to have any hangups at all. (J.F.M.)

Jump
Between the Dim & the Dark (Brash Music)

After a devastating break-up with Atlantic Records left the band at loose ends about its future, Jump Little Children has been reborn with a shorter moniker and a better hold on its sound. Between the Dim & the Dark is a cohesive realization of the energetic rock of 1998’s Magazine and the lush instrumentation of 2001’s Vertigo. Jay Clifford’s emotive vocals soar across songs layered with guitars that sing and hum. “Young America” is the standout track—a dynamic pop song with murmury verses punctuated by an anthemic chorus. It’s a radio hit waiting in the wings. Take that, Atlantic. (Paige M. Travis)

Patty Griffin
Impossible Dream (ATO Records)

Perhaps the most eclectic of her CDs, Patty Griffin’s Impossible Dream sways from the bluesy tones of “Love Throw a Line,” the echoey piano in “Kite Song,” and the folk-guitar woven in the coming-of-age tale “Florida.” The sound is richly layered—more dense than her acoustic 2002 release 1,000 Kisses— with tuba, trumpet, mandolin and pump organ making appearances as well as guest artists Buddy and Julie Miller, Lisa Germano and Emmylou Harris. Griffin’s lyrics are as poignant and evocative as ever, adding new characters to those already lost and searching within Griffin’s world. She summons them with a voice that’s full of spirit—the Holy one from her Catholic upbringing and the musical one that haunts Bruce Springsteen, Emmylou Harris and the other artists from whom she has earned inspiration and now inspires. (P.M.T.)

The Magnetic Fields
i (Nonesuch)

More of the same, but less. Stephen Merritt follows his cheekily ambitious 69 Love Songs with a mere 14 tracks (all beginning with the titular egocentric vowel). Merritt continues his ersatz Brill Building celebration of American pop, to agreeable if rarely surprising effect. Never less than tuneful, sometimes more than clever. (J.F.M.)

Scissor Sisters
Scissor Sisters (Universal)

Aka “That ‘70s Band.” Pastiche artists with a little 10CC here, a lotta Elton John there, but they’re most fun when they indulge their disco jones. The arrangements generally trump the songwriting, which is why the best track is a cover, a brothers-Gibbsian gloss on “Comfortably Numb.” (Not officially available in the U.S. yet for whatever reason, but you can get it at any number of online retailers.) (J.F.M.)

May 6, 2004 • Vol. 14, No. 19 © 2004 Metro Pulse