-John Fogerty
Katie Buono - Down by the Riverside
I went to college with Katie Buono – we would play the occasional open mic night at the local coffeehouse, but the only time we actually played pop music together was when we played a version of “Julia” together on a friend’s recital. Between those firsthand experiences and my peripheral knowledge about what she was up to, I knew she was one of the people at school who knew what she was doing. So I should’ve been prepared for Down by the Riverside, the solo album she wrapped up shortly after I left Oberlin.
I should’ve been, but I wasn’t.
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STNNNG - Dignified Sissy (Modern Radio, 2005)
A big no-no in review-writing (or any kind of writing) is to lead off with a cliché, e.g. “never judge a book by its cover.” In this case, though, it’s truly appropriate and truly inapplicable. If you don’t judge Minneapolis pigfuck band STNNNG’s (pronounced “Stunning”) debut album by the image above, you’re missing the point.
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Elyse Weinberg - “Elyse” (Tetragrammaton, 1968)
Elyse Weinberg released her debut album, Elyse, on David Crosby’s short-lived Tetragrammaton label in 1968 (re-released and reconfigured on Orange Twin, 2010), so she was a part of a scene that included Crosby, Joni Mitchell, and Neil Young.
Happy Birthday - Happy Birthday
For better and for worse, mimicry is one of pop music’s great inevitabilities. Every band has at least one reference point – the successful ones go further than their influences in some respect or other. That said, the problem with this sort of aping isn’t mimicry itself, but the fact that people rip off the same bands. So it’s refreshing when a band takes cues from someone who isn’t necessarily a household name.
Take Vermont’s Happy Birthday, for instance.
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Persona - Som
There’s something to be said for parsimony in pop music, especially pop music coming out of the ‘70’s. In an age of rococo decadence and ornamentation (as well as that whole post-dandy aesthetic I still can’t quite wrap my head around), it took hutzpah to make a no-frills album. That’s, in part, where punk rock came from, and it’s at least part of the impetus behind the minimalism that took shape over the preceding decade. Whether or not that kind of ascetics actively played a role in Persona’s album, Som (1975, Brazil), it’s hard to say.
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Klaatu - 3:47 EST
If the search for the next Dylan – or next anything – seems unfair or silly, the Canadian band Klaatu’s backstory does it one better: Klaatu’s claim to fame is that people thought they were the Beatles in disguise.
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Pip Proud - Eagle Wise, 1968-1969
For the most part, people seem to have dropped the search for the next Bob Dylan. Good thing, too. It’s an unfair, procrustean standard to measure songwriters against. That’s, in part, why it’s never been successful.
Fortunately, that search is what got Pip Proud noticed, however briefly.
Lee Hazelwood - “Requiem for an Almost Lady”
To say that time forgot Lee Hazlewood isn’t quite right, but he’s not exactly a household name, either. He’s the other half of the Nancy (Sinatra) and Lee tandem, the pop genius behind “These Boots Were Made for Walkin.’”
Kellarissa - Moons of Neptune
Kellarissa (nèe Larissa Loyva) was hardly a new face on the music scene when her record came across my desk at WOBC, but I’d never heard of her at the time. Turns out, she’s a household name in some circles. An alum of P:ano, The Choir Practice, and Gigi, she toured with Destroyer in support of her sophomore effort, Moons of Neptune. At the time, I was on a Nico kick, so this record was right up my alley. It still is.
