REVIEWS BY MIKE BREEN
Here's a peek at a few overlooked releases from the year that was 1996, as well as some things to look forward to in the first few months of 1997. Indie labels are still proving themselves to be fertile ground for developing creativity, as some of these records show.
Most of these releases can be found in your better local record stores. For the more obscure and hard-to-find labels, we've provided addresses to write for further information.
SOUL JUNK - 1953 (Homestead)
This aptly named band made one of the more captivating releases of 1996 and, criminally, hardly anyone seems to have heard it. The initial thing you notice about this San Diego crew is its faith: The CD's liner notes are littered with biblical passages and which songs were inspired by them. That in itself is enough to send any Indie Rock diehard curling up with their security Slanted and Enchanted and turn their noses to the sky.
But take it from a staunch agnostic: Soul Junk are making some of the finest "Indie Rock" this side of Superchunk, Pavement and any of the other deified lo-fi skwonkers. The group has an organic, improvisation like sound that's hard to pinpoint, and that just adds to the beauty. The cacophony of melodies and fluid, modestly majestic guitar parts suggest Foo Fighters on acid without the Nirvana base. Despite their Christian leanings, Soul Junk are never didactic and, unlike so many Christian Rock bands, you never get the feeling that you're in the middle of a conversion intervention. Essentially, it is the band's music that transcends.
There's a high level of experimental effect, but Soul Junk also manage to (seemingly) stumble upon some magnificent melodies and then artfully throw in unexpected twists (like the Hip Hop anchor of "Graveyard Style" or the Rap like vocal delivery of "Junca De Sol Andromeda"). The "bonus record" tacked on as track 14 (called "1954") is a delightful addition, sounding like one whole cohesive post-Punk improv that never leaves you thinking these guys are just wanking off on their four-tracks.
Soul Junk aren't Jars Of Clay or anything near that (thank, uh, the Big Guy). They're just a damn fine group of musicians and songwriters who happen to love Jesus as much as they do music. Is that so wrong?
CityBeat grade: A.
THE STINKY PUFFS - For Kids Who Have Been Left Behind (Elemental Music/Stinky Puffs, 109 Minna St. #250, San Francisco, CA 94105)
A perfect example of the D-I-Y aesthetic, The Stinky Puffs is led by 14-year-old Simon Fair Timony. This release, however, is far from the latest major-label, slick-upped Pearl Jam rip. For Kids is an intriguing and endearing release showing Timony to have the potential to one day be a great Indie hope.
You have to take the record as it is, of course, and the refreshing thing is it doesn't ask anything more from the listener. The unpretentious and gifted Timony isn't your average teen, with family ties to bands like Half Japanese and The Residents and pals from The Breeders, Sonic Youth (Puffs guitarist Cody Linn Ranaldo is the son of S.Y.'s Lee) and Nirvana.
The impetus behind the disc lies in Timony's desire to offer words of advice to kids who have lost people close to them. With straight-up honesty, he relays his feelings on losing Kurt Cobain, whom he considered a good friend, and having his father bail with no notice. The record shows a glimpse of a potential future leader of the Indie Rock scene, but the avant-stylings and noisy romps do indeed sound youthful and not yet fully realized. Still, his green perspective is refreshingly untainted.
Like a Cindy Crawford high school yearbook picture, some day we might all look back on this with a knowing smile.
CityBeat grade: B.
ENGINE 88 - Snowman (Caroline)
It's kind of hard to listen to the new record from this San Francisco band and not play "spot the influences" - a little Buzzcocks here, a lot of Superchunk there. Though Snowman, the follow-up to the Engine's debut, Clean Your Room, is blatantly derivative, the high-octane sugar-buzzed songs aren't a complete loss. They're very in-your-face, melodic and somewhat memorable, with charming song shifts that keep things interesting.
The music manages to blend itself enough to appeal to fans of the Chapel Hill, Southern California and Seattle scenes of today, which is in itself an impressive task. Engine 88 aren't nearly as good as their influences and seem to be searching for their own voice, but at the same time they do the Punk/Pop/Groove Rock thing as good as most anyone else doing it. But great music should make you appreciate the moment and not dwell on the past. And Engine 88 seems to have a couple of discs to go before they achieve that.
(Snowman is scheduled for a Jan. 14 release date.)
CityBeat grade: C.
KID ROCK - Early Mornin' Stoned Pimp (Top Dog/Kid Rock, Box 102, Mount Clemens, MI 48046)
Michigan-based rapper Kid Rock has been an interesting figure in Hip Hop. His previous work with labels like Jive and Continuum took the contemporary sound of Rap and mixed it through a drug-induced haze. The previous work always seemed to owe a bit too much of a debt to the Beastie Boys, but just when you think you had Rock pegged he'd throw out the most whacked-out, confrontational rhyme this side of the Ghetto Boys.
Kid Rock's latest incarnation is his finest to date. Again probably inspired by recent successful forays into live-instrument Rap, Rock manages to come up with some tight, screaming Funk beats played by a variety of Detroit luminaries like The Black Crowes and other guests like the Howlin' Diablos.
What comes out is heavy beats, a loose groove, P-Funk-like chanting and, as usual, Rock's wild, clever and often shocking lyrics. Early Mornin' Stoned Pimp operates on several levels but, in the end, comes off like a brilliant update of Superfly, complete with falsetto vocals and a street strut that would turn Huggy Bear out. State-mates Big Chief tried to do the sweet Soul thing a few years back and, while that proved to be a groovy, macked out jam, Kid Rock's efforts are more complete. Killer stuff from an unfortunately overlooked MC with monster skills.
CityBeat grade: B.
BENNET - Supernatural (Roadrunner)
Some weird things happen in the biz when a certain kind of music gets massively popular. Record labels clamor for the next successor to the throne, of course, but the disturbing thing is when bands seem to lose sight of the joy of making music. Instead they turn into a commodity, shaping their sound for mass consumption. But, like all the Friends rewrites that hit television this past season, people usually see right through the carbon copies and those clones inevitably fall by the wayside.
Bennet, an English group that you can almost hear crying for a Melody Maker, want to be the next British sensation so bad that they forgot to write good songs. Most of Supernatural is second-rate Kinks knock-offs (which Blur succeeded with) and third-rate Beatles retreads (Oasis, anyone?). In the end, their half-hearted stabs at songwriting lack anything an audience could sink their teeth into, suggesting that the band should spend a year or two trying to find themselves musically before assaulting the market like this.
They should have more closely examined Oasis' success - you can be a thief and make good art; the true art is in being a good thief. And Bennet's Supernatural is little more than a petty misdemeanor.
(Bennet's debut hits the streets on Feb. 25.)
CityBeat grade: D.
CityBeat, Issue 3, Vol. 7; Jan. 2-8, 1997