MUSIC REVIEW OF THE DAY: DONALD FAGEN - SUNKEN CONDOS

There's barely any difference between a Donald Fagen solo disc and a proper Steely Dan one.  Fagen always does the vocals with the Dan, and since he and Walter Becker are of such like minds about the music they want to make these past decades, taking Becker out of the mix isn't a big deal.  Here he's replaced by co-producer and trumpet/synth/keyboard guy Michael Leonhart, but it doesn't do a thing to alter the usual Dan sound.  Which is grand, of course.

Really, not much has changed in Fagen's musical world since Gaucho in 1980.  It's smooth, groovy jazz, extremely clean and expertly played, with witty observations on modern life and slightly twisted tales of less reputable folks, our singer included.  The only thematic shift is out of necessity, as Fagen has grown older.  Now he speaks to younger generations, whether as a skirt-chaser everyone knows is too old (Slinky Thing), or a has-been in the eyes of the dot-com generation (The New Breed).  There's a little bitterness there, as he loses the girl to someone younger and stronger, but also he's holding on to the last laugh, knowing tough times are ahead for the youngster that he's already survived.  Anyway, as always his lyrics are fun, full of shady characters and words you won't find elsewhere.  Lithe, for instance.

Sunken Condos is one of the most rewarding listens since Gaucho as well, and perhaps its because it's more funky.  It's got a more soulful selection, including the gangster number Good Stuff, with its choppy rhythm guitar and classic Fagen horns.  As always, there are the female voices grooving along with The Donald on the choruses.  The big surprise is an actual cover, a rare thing indeed in Dan land.  They did a Duke Ellington number way back in the 70's, and now we get an old Isaac Hayes number, Out Of The Ghetto, all clavinet and funky bass.  Hey, and there's even one of those really killer guitar solos you used to get back in the day with Steely Dan albums, in the song Weather In My Head.  So I guess what I'm saying here is:  Like Steely Dan?  You should pick this up.

MUSIC REVIEW OF THE DAY: IRIS DEMENT - SING THE DELTA

An old parlour piano starts the album off, soon joined by Dement's oh-so-rural, classic voice, just like she was singing to you from your great-grandmother's living room in the 40's.  Nobody has ever sounded so Appalachian, at least in the last 40 years.  It's a voice that aches with such sadness, such personal hurt, channeling what it must have been like for those people living in grinding poverty, their only hope found in a deep religious conviction, one based in fear of damnation as much as the knowledge of salvation.  Well, I don't have a clue how much of that she knows, feels, or is trying to emote, but that's the source I imagine.

Dement's been largely silent for several years, after releasing a trio of albums in the 90's that established her as one of the dominate voices of the new Americana, as well as one of the most stunning writers of the day.  I've missed her.  She released a gospel album eight years back, did some film work, helped out her mentor John Prine, but hasn't released an original album in 16 years.  The spark wasn't there, she's said.  Thank you-know-who it came flowing back last year.  The title track here is a tribute to the south, the music and feeling she knows from growing up in Arkansas.  It's half soul, half country, a slowed-down Stax number with mournful horns, Dement finding a little Etta James somewhere.  There are all her familiar themes; strong family ties (she's the youngest of 14 kids), strong values, and religion.  Except that Dement has never feared strong examination of that faith she grew up with.  The questions she asks are the ones that are scariest for those who were taught never to question.  She states it flat-out at one point, "I don't even know if I believe in God."  Most striking is the story found in The Night I Learned How Not To Pray.  The singer watches as her baby brother accidentally falls down the stairs, suffering a serious head injury.  As her parents rush the child to the hospital, she falls on the floor to pray, but the baby dies.  Her faith is shaken, and a lifetime of doubt follows.  Clearly, this isn't country-gospel for mainstream America, although it should be.  Dement is fearless in the way she tackles these questions in songs.

Nobody has sung quite so well about home in ages either.  It's almost like she's taken Merle Haggard's Sing Me Back Home and created an entire genre around it.  Makin' My Way Back Home evokes the sweet feeling of walking back in a childhood house, a beloved place, for the first time in many years.  Fathers and mothers show up in these spots and songs, flawed but wise characters, such as Mama Was Always Tellin' Her Truth.  In this world, clotheslines sag, household chores are unending, and so is familial love.

All these themes and sounds come together in the song There's A Whole Lot Of Heaven, one of her very best ever.  With an uptempo gospel groove, her piano combined with a rocking church organ, and her singing defiant, Dement states flatly that they don't need a prophet coming around to her small community/family, they don't even need to try to get to heaven:  "I've been saved by the blood of the people living right here/There's a whole lot of Heaven shining in this river of tears."  Wow.  Growing up Baptist myself, the lyric strikes me to the core.  And no words I could write would come close to doing justice to her celebratory vocal here.  Thank goodness Gillian Welch was around, I'm not sure how else I could have got through these sixteen dry years.

MUSIC REVIEW OF THE DAY: JEFF LYNNE - LONG WAVE

Lynne's often the whipping boy for music snobs, considered a wanna-be in the rock hall, the hanger-on in the Wilburys fraternity.  Well, when your peers accept you, the Petty-Dylan-Harrison types, that should be a clue the guy has the goods.  I suppose it's that ELO were never considered in the elite, but rather plastic hit makers.  And when Lynne entered into the sphere of those Wilbury types, the music they made did get glossy.  But it also got very nearly perfect pop.  Think Handle With Care, or Petty's I Won't Back Down or Free Fallin'.  Lynne knows what he's doing when you hand him the ball.

He takes classic sounds, and puts his own spin on them.  What were ELO, but The Beatles stringed and zinged?  No matter what style, Lynne delivers, but there's always a touch of air-brushed brilliance on top.  When he's working, that is.  There's been precious little evidence of that lately, but the floodgates are about to open.  A new album of originals is coming next year, and he also has re-recorded much of the ELO catalogue for a new Best-Of, now out as well.  This, however, is not the new stuff, but rather a curious covers album.  Seems he's always wanted to go back, way back, to the pre-rock era, to do some of the songs popular when he was little and Elvis was still driving a truck.  So we get some show tunes, some Tin Pan Alley, popular songs from the era of the popular song.  We're talking Charles Aznavour's She, Charlie Chaplin's Smile, and such chestnuts as Love Is A Many Splendored Thing and Bewitched, Bothered And Bewildered.  There are also some forays into 50's and 60's rock, again early heroes of Lynne's he heard on the radio, such as the Everly Brothers (So Sad), Orbison (Running Scared), and even Chuck Berry's Let It Rock.

It's a mixed bag, as you can imagine, and a bit slight, just 27 minutes long.  But you know what?  Damned if he doesn't make each one interesting; perfectly produced, of course, with great mimicry on some bits, imaginative updates at other points.  Lynne obsessively overdubs layers of guitar and keys to copy the old sonics, and yet gives it a bit of his own sound, too.  He's paying absolute attention to detail, and you can't help but be impressed with the final results.  And hey, they are classics, so it's listenable as well.  Lynne never reinvents the wheel, instead he drives the whole car in a different direction.

MUSIC REVIEW OF THE DAY: FREDDIE MERCURY - THE GREAT PRETENDER (DVD & Blu-Ray)

An interesting documentary, in that it looks at a very specific point in Mercury's career, his solo years in the 80's.  That's because the rest of it has been covered well in previous DVD's, and as this is from the official folks, the band and management, it's stuff that's been hived off from the other docs that just dealt with things Queen.  It's the same cast of talkers that spoke about him in the previous one, but since it's all the right ones, including the group, old managers, his last partner, etc., you're getting the proper picture.

Now, in case you think you don't have much interest in Mercury's spotty solo work, there's actually some interesting stories with it, and also it goes far more in-depth into his off-stage life, plus his AIDS-related passing.  There's film footage of his infamous 1985 birthday party, a near Roman orgy that would make Elton John blush.  We see him in the discos of New York and Munich in the early 80's, when he living life to its largest.  At the same time, we're told the other side of his personality showed that he was a shy, private person for the most part, driven by art and work.  It was that side of him that drove him to search out the solo projects that were quite different than the Queen work.

The centerpiece of the 90-minute doc is the unlikely partnership he forged with opera diva Montserrat Caballe of Barcelona.  The famous soprano was his favourite singer, and when word got back to her, she happily agreed to a project that saw Mercury writing an entire album for them, and bravely creating a rock-opera hybrid.  Caballe, interviewed at length, clearly loved her friend, and the fact the project became a success of sorts is a grand part of the story. 

What moves this along though, is the storyline tracing his illness and eventual death.  Using available interviews, and recollections of his intimate friends, we get a much broader picture of the stoic and brave journey he went  through in the decade, and how his determination to live life to the fullest made him truly happy.  In the end, it also made him face his passing with great dignity.  As he hoped in statements to friends, he was never boring, and because of that, this part of his life is just as interesting as his time with Queen.

MUSIC REVIEW OF THE DAY: BURTON CUMMINGS - MASSEY HALL

I can't think of another situation like that of Cummings and his once, and still occasional band mate Randy Bachman.  Usually, when you have a classic hit-making band like The Guess Who, the sum is always greater than the parts.  Yet when you look at their respective careers, each has done wonderfully with, or without the other.  And even today, both do a great job on their own.  Bachman's recent reunion with Fred Turner was a grand return to the BTO classics.  When the duo has joined up over the past decade, once as The Guess Who, and a few times as Bachman-Cummings, it's an excellent show.  Cummings last solo album was very strong; now comes this document of live shows from 2010 and 2011, and it proves he has just as powerful a set list, and performance, by himself.

It's hit after hit after hit.  As the lead singer for all them, Cummings has the strong 70's material to draw on, songs you normally don't hear a lot of, since the late 60's cuts get more attention these days.  Aside from the relative lightweight Clap For The Wolfman (still, rather catchy), there's real quality to Star Baby, Albert Flasher, Running Back To Saskatoon, and even Guns Guns Guns is a good surprise here.  Cummings also represents his solo hits well.  Stand Tall is a little soft, but what a great vocal.  I'm Scared comes over very well, and Timeless Love is an underrated gem. 

He also has a crack band with him, in the past referred to as The Carpet Frogs, and featuring Ron Sexsmith regular Tim Bovaconti on lead guitar.  And Cummings hasn't lost a note in range, somehow still exactly the same tremendous singer he's been since the start.  Speaking of which, all those favourites are here as well:  These Eyes, Undun, Laughing, No Sugar Tonight/New Mother Nature, and of course, American Woman.  Never once does Cummings sound like he's going through the motions on these nearly fifty-year-old hits, getting close to half the age of the venerable hall the shows come from.  There are only two cuts from that most recent disc, Above The Ground, but they sound really good here, and I would happily go see those show live.

MUSIC REVIEW OF THE DAY: STEVE WINWOOD - ARC OF A DIVER DELUXE EDITION

Geez, Winwood was big again for awhile there in the 80's.  This album, from the start of the decade, brought him back to star status, after a short time in the wilderness.  It was also the first time he was a star in his own right.  He'd always been a band guy, whether it was The Spencer Davis Group, Traffic, Blind Faith, Traffic again, or any of the short-term projects he'd done along the way.  A 1977 solo disc hadn't done much, but everybody knew he was the real deal, always the best singer and musician in any group.  A multi-instrumentalist, he could do it all, from keys to guitars to drums.  And of course, he had the best, most soulful voice of any (white) singer around.

So for Arc Of A Diver, he decided he would do it all.  As he admitted, he wasn't the first to play all the instruments on an album, but the guy who really liked to be with others had to chuck all that out and brave the solo world.  He probably didn't expect all the success that would come.  However, he did go for it.  A huge R'n'B and folk fan, Winwood left most of that out, instead draping on the synths and clean production, becoming a smooth, hi-tech 80's guy.  It was an odd move for the voice behind Gimme Some Lovin', or John Barleycorn Must Die, but a shrewd observation on what was needed for stardom in that era.

Honestly, it's never sat well with who he really is as a musician, although it's certainly now what's he's best known for.  The hits here, While You See A Chance, and the title cut, lead to his biggest one, Higher Love, in 1986.  While you can hear the quality of the basic melody in there, and the singing is great, oh those synths and that 80's production.  It's such a diametrically opposed synthesis:  a soulful tune, with soulless manufacturing of the track.  The album, really, has not aged well, with the rest of the cuts so much of the same style, and the hits no more than nice memories.

It would have been fun to hear demo versions, or live takes of these songs, to get a sense of their quality without the studio adornments.  Instead, the bonus tracks on the Deluxe Edition include only an edited version of Arc for the radio, an instrumental of Night Train, and a 2010 version of Spanish Dancer.  The rest of disc 2 is made up of a near-hour long BBC 2 documentary on his whole career.  It is a decent listen, although it confusingly meanders back and forth from the 60's to 80's and back again.  It is great to hear his brother Muff, and old band mates weigh in.  Really though, the best he's been of late has been getting back into the R'n'B he was born to play, touring with old pal Eric Clapton, and showing what a giant he really is.  Arc Of A Diver only hints at his true calling.

MUSIC REVIEW: UNCLE FATHER - UNCLE FATHER

Tongue-in-cheek real rock that riffs on metal, prog, a little dance, and a lot of on-purpose inane lyrics.  You can look at this Toronto duo two ways; either as a laugh factory, or a return to simpler, even stupid rock values.  Pounding out the cartoon sounds, Uncle Father gives you a package tour of the stuff kids loved when I was a 70's teen.  Sleep All Night is full of heavy keyboard number, featuring big organ in the Jon Lord-Deep Purple style, and they found Keith Emerson's ELP synth in the back room, too.  Queen Of The Slaves 1 is a full-on machine gun guitar songs, all Sabbath vocals and pounding.  Then there's a power ballad called Queen Of The Slaves 2 - Hey, it's the same damn song, now just sung in falsetto in Journey style!  Clever buggers.

I'm mostly impressed by the group's audacity.  Queen Of The Slaves 1 and 2 include absolutely no other lyrics than the title, repeated over and over again.  It just shows that it actually doesn't matter what the singer sings, it's how he sings it.  Oh, and it's a he for sure, as the songs are filled with testosterone, and more take-offs on the classic lead singer.  Rock And Roll Saturday Night has all the right references, including cocaine, getting wasted, and the immortal line "my balls look huge because my pants so tight".  The less said about the next track, Sloppy, the better, but it would make Frank Zappa smile at it's filth.  The singer's testicular problem continues, as apparently they are abnormally large;  instead of seeking medical help for this affliction, he is very proud of this fact. 

The thing about this seven-song mini-album is that past the topics and schtick, these guys can really play it well.  Sloppy is a great groove, and I'm sure they can fill a dance floor.  Uncle Father knows why this is called classic rock, and what makes it appealing still.  No, they don't take it completely seriously, but who does?