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All too often people ask me to recommend a new album for
their collection. Responding to this question comes with a great
deal of pressure and anxiety; what happens if this person spends his
or her hard earned cash on my suggestion, runs home with the
anticipation that this CD--yes, this CD!--could be their very own
summer soundtrack, the background score to their season of bliss,
but then gets home to find out that the album with such blaring
potential is really just a plastic disc of…ehh.
As you may or may of not noticed, I haven’t written a Bangitout
music column in over four months. Most will say that I was just
being a slacker lacking discipline and ambition. That I have been
sitting here staring at the wall, wondering if the wall was aware
that I was staring at it and whether the wall was also developing
this incurable self-conscious complex because of my unrelenting
gaze. Have faith, non-believer! The reality is that I have been
sneaking into your rooms and surveying the piles of CD’s on your
bookshelf.
In risk of sounding pretentious (I’m thinking it’s about 14 years
too late for that), the situation is sometimes abysmal and hopeless.
You know who you are, owner of the Celine Dion catalogue (these
people exist. I swear). But for the others: I want the best for you.
I heart you. Therefore, inspired by the music you currently own, I
have thought long and hard about how we can take your collection to
the next level by adding some semi-obscure spice (like a musical
cumin). Consider the following a reality make-over show. Like Snob
Eye for the Slightly Queer CD Collection.
If you like
Norah Jones…
then discover Rachael Yamagata’s
Happenstance (RCA) or Jolie Holland’s
Escondida(Anti)
 =  
Imagine a Twilight Zone episode where some mad scientist figured out
a way to split Norah Jones into two distinct personalities.
Are you imagining?
Good.
Now, imagine that the scientist is successful in creating two
respective Joneses.
[Bear with me here. I love metaphors]. He then discovers that Norah
I focuses on her wistful jazz, creating songs of nostalgia and
timelessness while Norah II has a bit of rockier side, writing
sultry jazz-like compositions but with an angsty edge of bitterness.
Norah I is actually Jolie Holland, a pigtailed musky vocalist, who
writes lazy-sounding songs so calming, they could almost qualify as
music for the sloth-inclined. Essentially, Escondida is a collection
of twelve black-and-white photos illustrated with teasing snare
drums, smirking trumpets and humid guitars. Recalling Billie Holiday
but with a slight Southern rust, Holland’s debut makes for the
perfect sunset viewing, sitting barefoot on a rustic porch and
sipping a cold glass of lemonade.
Rachael Yamagata, or Norah II, possesses the same smoke-flavored and
barbeque potato chipped voice as the two aforementioned torch
singers but unlike their serenity, Yamagata, on occasion, likes to
get things moving. In this way, Rachael is much like Fiona Apple,
alternating between summer-dress-fare and girl power rockers. “Worn
Me Down,” Happenstance’s obvious standout single, is a breezy bike
ride into pop territory. “Quiet,’ is a nine minute surrender so
heart-meltingly precious that Jones would surely trade in one of her
three hundred Grammy’s for a simplicity so seductive.
If you like
Coldplay…
Keane’s Hope And Dreams
(Interscope) or Snow Patrol’s
Final Straw (Universal).
 =  
The English have a reputation for being cold and emotionless. But if
one considers all the celebrated pop culture representatives from
the UK, you’ll discover quite the opposite. The English are actually
impossibly sappy. Actors like Hugh Grant and Rupert Everett are all
wimp, all the time. Best selling authors like Helen Fielding and
Nick Hornby are renowned for their stories with characters bearing
their insecurities and constantly harping on their emotional
instabilities. Perhaps, I suggest, the Brits are too in touch with
themselves.
And truthfully, their music is no different. Coldplay, the Paltrowed
foursome currently crowned as “the biggest band in the world,” don’t
curse, don’t drink and don’t smoke. Moreover, they sing lyrics like
“look at the stars/see how they shine for you.” And considering
Chris Martin, lead singer and songwriter of the band, named his
child Apple…well, nowadays, they’re not looking any tougher.
If you thought Coldplay was an exception, here are two bands that
make a Dr. Phil episode look positively heartless:
- Keane, a Brixton threesome consisting of drums, bass and piano,
has no guitarist. They don’t “crank it to 11.” They don’t have any
three-minute solos. And they certainly don’t “rawk out.” But they do
have ten sublimely hypersensitive songs about sympathy, sunshine,
and, you know, love. Using Coldplay’s “The Scientist” and Ewan
McGregor’s performance in Moulin Rouge as their blueprint, Keane’s
debut is strong enough for a man but still made for a woman. Those
who tend to eye-roll at earnestness should proceed with caution.
- Hailing from Northern Ireland, charming rockers Snow Patrol insert
a bit more testosterone into their cup of earnest tea. With a
driving rhythm section and pulsing guitar, The Final Straw is their
third album and strongest to date. In fact, Universal Records is
betting that Patrol’s first single, “Run,” will be this summer’s
“Yellow.” And that’s a pretty safe bet considering the soaring,
goose bump-inducing chorus—“light up/light up/as if you have a
choice/even if you cannot hear my voice/I’ll be right besides you,
dear.” This is the Straw that will break the cynical back,
-------------------------------------------
To read more from Arye Dworken, check out his new personal
website www.bringbacksincerity.com
Send your comments to Arye at theadwiz@aol.com;
 Readers
Comments:
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