Posted by jwaltb on 07-15-2004 at05:22:
What the critics think.....
I hadn't seen where anyone put this up so I thought I'd throw it out there. Maybe should go to OT but - here I am. Good review for the guys.
(edited due to length......)
JB
From André Salles' column "Tuesday Morning, 3 a.m." ...
_http://www.tm3am.com/index.htm_ (
http://www.tm3am.com/index.htm)
7/7/04
I was going to write about the Cure this week, but I just saw the Lost
Dogs perform an excellent live show, and I just don’t feel like being
negative right now.
I find it difficult to explain what I love about the Lost Dogs, and I think
it comes down to history. Part of the thrill of Scenic Routes, the Dogs’
debut, was hearing familiar voices in unfamiliar settings. Here was Derri
Daugherty, he of swirl-rock pioneers The Choir, singing the acoustic folk
title track with a high, clear tone. Here was Terry Taylor, leader of
Beatlesque rockers Daniel Amos, taking on a lovely country ditty
like “Amber Waves Goodbye.”
Here was Mike Roe, voice and guitar hero of barnburners The 77s, lilting
his way atop the acoustic “Smokescreen” and wailing through blues
standard “You Gotta Move.” And most of all, here was Gene Eugene, the
big brain and sweet voice behind amazing funk-rock monolith Adam Again,
bringing indescribable depth to melancholy ballads “The Fortunate Sons”
and “The Last Testament of Angus Shane.” Eugene made just about as
many albums with the Dogs as he did with Adam Again before he passed
on in 2000, and his Dogs work shows a stunning versatility and range.
That’s true for all of the Dogs, though. Here were four guys from
four very different bands, none of whom had their roots in traditional
American and gospel music, playing sweet folk and rollicking bluegrass
and tender singalongs. Familiar voices in unfamiliar settings.
Of course, most people are unfamiliar with any of the Lost Dogs’ work,
be it together or with their own bands, so that appeal is all but lost on
them. Part of the thrill of watching the remaining trio slide comfortably
into a rendition of “Wild Ride” is in knowing just how wild the ride has
been. Taylor, all by himself, has taken us through the literate twang-pop
of the first Daniel Amos albums through the new wave of the Alarma
Chronicles, to the sarcastic fun of the Swirling Eddies, to the graceful
variety of his many solo albums, and finally to Daniel Amos’ triumphant
33-song comeback, Mr. Buechner’s Dream, the best rock album nobody
heard in 2000.
The other Dogs have had similar journeys, with similarly essential sets of
albums to their names. And most of those are out of print (with the
exception of the Choir’s oeuvre, which is collected in a lovely box set
called Never Say Never) and extremely difficult to find. Taylor has begun
re-releasing his work as well – the first Daniel Amos album comes out in
a deluxe two-CD edition this month – but not enough of the obscure
history of these bands is readily available for anyone not already into
the Dogs to really understand what I’m talking about.
The boys themselves have now complicated matters a bit. What was once
a side project has in many ways become the main gig for Taylor, Roe and
Daugherty, with only occasional trips to the louder styles of their original
bands. Problem is, there’s a rich backlog of excellent tunes that longtime
fans want to hear done Lost Dogs style. These are songs, however, that
the average newbie will not know, and will not be able to find.
The solution is called Mutt, the first in a series of Dogs records that will
mine the back catalog of Daniel Amos, the Choir and the 77s. Here are
nine songs (three from each member of the band) with rich histories,
spanning more than 25 years, stripped to their essences and
reinterpreted. To use an obvious analogy, this is the spiritual pop
equivalent of the original Traveling Wilburys recording “Like a Rolling
Stone,” “I Won’t Back Down,” “Cryin’” and “My Sweet Lord.” In their own
way, the Lost Dogs have that kind of musical legacy, even though only a
few thousand people have heard their songs.
But what songs they are. Mutt is a fully successful project – the new
versions of these songs are beautiful on their own, but if you know the
originals, they take on new dimensions. It’s a good album for newbies,
and a fascinating document for longtime fans. Six of the nine remakes
here (there’s also a brand new song) are all but impossible to find in their
original forms, unless you know where to look. As far as most newcomers
are concerned (which includes much of the audience at the concert I
attended), this is a set of 10 new songs.
But the fun of being a longtime fan lies in contrasting these new takes
with old favorites. Mutt opens authoritatively with “If You Want To,” from
Daniel Amos’ 1991 album Kalhoun. Gone is the familiar intro, and the song
now begins with Mike Roe’s unadorned vocal. Naturally, the biggest
change here (and in just about all the new takes) is the reliance on
acoustic guitars, a Dogs trademark at this point, and the overall tone is
mellow and breezy. “If You Want To” is scrappy and punchy in its original
version, but here it glides along with great three-part harmonies and a
light, airy feeling.
Taylor sings Roe’s “The Lust, the Flesh, the Eyes and the Pride of Life,”
from the 77s’ 1986 self-titled record, and he turns what was a youthful
rock song into a world-weary Dylan-esque folk tune. It’s an arrangement
that brings out the heartfelt lyrics, about Roe’s self-destructive personality
traits, and Taylor’s voice is perfect for it. This one works better for
newcomers, though, since “The Lust…” is very well identified with Roe.
Hearing someone else sing it is jarring at first, but it works. The same fate
befalls “Sunshine Down,” Roe’s personal hymn from Say Your Prayers,
sung here by Daugherty. The song is so Mike Roe that it’s difficult to
associate it with Derri.
Of all the Choir’s songs, I would not have selected “Like a Cloud” for this
record. It first appeared on Speckled Bird, the loudest of the Choir’s
albums, as a brief moment of beauty amidst the clamor. I’m happy to
discover that the Lost Dogs version rescues this sweet love song from
obscurity and transforms it into the clearest winner here. The Dogs’
glorious three-part harmonies waft above the web of acoustic and electric
guitars, and the extended ending is marvelous. Drummer and producer
Steve Hindalong works his magic here on exotic percussion as well.
Many of these songs are not as significantly altered, however. Roe sings
Taylor’s “Grace is the Smell of Rain,” from Daniel Amos’ wonderful
Motorcycle album, but otherwise the arrangement is similar, if quieter.
The Choir’s “To Cover You” is covered note for note here, even down to
Daugherty’s lead vocal. And I now have five versions of “Beautiful
Scandalous Night,” the most typically Christian song Daugherty and
Hindalong have yet written, and none of them are all that different from
the others. Hearing Roe sing it here is interesting, though.
There is one song that has been reworked from the ground up, though –
“It’s So Sad,” which first appeared on the 77s’ 1982 debut Ping Pong Over
the Abyss. What was once a synth-heavy ‘80s pop song is now a
screaming rockabilly number, complete with a frantic and amazing electric
solo by Roe. Watching him perform this one live on an acoustic is
awesome – he never stops moving, yelping or tearing out light-speed
guitar lines. Taylor and Daugherty can only stand and stare at him in
disbelief.
.......part 2 in next post. too wordy...........
Posted by jwaltb on 07-15-2004 at05:25:
RE: What the critics think.....
and now for the rest of the story............... (nice plug for Rock Creek). Sounds like a nice drive.
The show I attended has held at Rock Creek Church in Derwood,
Maryland. Rock Creek is just off of a major road that connects with I-95,
but MapQuest took me 20 miles off course through the enchanted forest.
Seriously, that’s what the road looks like – a heavily wooded path that’s
barely large enough to allow two cars to pass unharmed, with insane
twists and turns throughout. The church itself is quite nice, and nearly
170 people fit comfortably inside. In my opinion, that’s a ridiculously low
number, considering the sheer quality of the musicians onstage, but for
the Dogs at this stage in their career, 170 people in a little church in
Maryland is a very good turnout. And the Dogs put on a hell of a show.
They have honed their cranky old men act to a Vaudeville sheen, gently
pushing the boundaries of what passes for appropriate humor in a church.
Roe and Taylor, especially, put on such a display of loving antagonism that
newcomers might think they actually disliked each other. The banter was
only half the fun, though. The Dogs ran through nearly every song on
Mutt, as well as a nice selection of their older material. The Mutt songs
particularly came to life on stage, and I gained a new appreciation for
“If You Want To” and the expansive “Like a Cloud.” The Dogs brought
Steve Hindalong with them, and he played an impressive array of bizarre
percussion instruments in his inimitable animated way. At one point he
was shaking what appeared to be a child’s mobile in one hand and a
woven straw purse in the other. This guy is so much fun to watch.
The spirit of reinvention that runs through Mutt was in evidence
throughout the evening as well. The Lost Dogs are not known for shaking
up their repertoire live, but here they debuted what they called a “medley
of their hit” that found them opening up their arrangement skills. They
also brought a revitalized energy to “Why is the Devil Red,” which just
plain rocked. Hindalong especially brought the house down on this one,
pounding away on a pair of kettle drums.
They played the one new song on Mutt, “I’m Setting You Free (But I’m
Not Letting You Go),” late in the set. It’s a beautiful father-daughter
ballad about letting your children grow up while still holding them close,
and it joins a legion of Terry Taylor songs about growing older and wiser.
The Lost Dogs have found a way to grow old together, both musically
and personally, and they’re doing it with grace and a sense of fun. If this
group is the final destination for Taylor, Daugherty and Roe, then it’s
been a great ride getting here. And if you weren’t there the first time,
Mutt and its (hopefully many) sequels will fill you in on what you’ve
missed.
I can’t fail to mention Jeffrey K. of Lo-Fidelity Records, without whom
Mutt wouldn’t have seen the light of day. Jeffrey puts his heart into
everything he releases, and he only would work this hard for bands
and artists he loves.
You can get Mutt through Jeffrey at his _website_
(
http://www.lo-fidelity.com/) , and you can listen to clips from
every song before you buy. He’s incredibly fast, too – if you’re ordering
from within the U.S., you should have your CD in four or five days, tops.
And when you’re done there, keep digging: _www.thechoir.net_
(
http://www.thechoir.net/) , _www.danielamos.com_ (
http://www.danielamos.com/) ,
and _www.77s.com_ (
http://www.77s.com/) .
There’s a lot of history there, and it’s all worth tracking down.
Next week, the Cure for sure.
See you in line Tuesday morning.