September 2- 8, 2004

music

cdreviews

Got You on My Mind

The Chance Trio

by Nate Chinen, Andrew Parks, Nicole Pensiero and Patrick Rapa

Jazz/ Tiny Douglas

The Chance Trio

Marnee Birds
(Marnee Birds Music)
This self-produced debut owes more than a little to the broadminded ethos of Dave Douglas, whose Tiny Bell Trio started out with similar aims. Taking the Douglas role here is Bart Miltenberger, whose horn can likewise cover the distance between plaintive full tones and chirpy half-valve cries. His partners are acoustic guitarist Matt Davis and upright bassist Michael Taylor, alternately serving as a rhythm section and as fellow mischief-makers. They're at their best when dealing with simple, lyrical forms, like Taylor's "Requiem for Virtue" and sections of Miltenberger's "We Love You, Lt. Costillo." At other times, their reach well exceeds their grasp — but then, they wouldn't be chance-takers otherwise.

Rock/pop/scattershot

Rilo Kiley

More Adventurous
(Brute Beaute/Warner)
They're arguably the most interesting thing to crawl out of the underground in recent years, but Rilo Kiley is in a weird place right now (besides, you know, Major Label Land). "It's a sin when success complains," sings the formidable Jenny Lewis, once again making wine out of cold sweat. "And your writer's block, it don't mean shit. Just throw it against the wall and see what sticks." It would be a low blow to read too much into a line so self-effacing, but this disc is a spice rack. Pick your poison: "It's a Hit" calls the prez a turd-chucking monkey. "I Never" is a nigh-authentic country power ballad. "Accidntel Deth" (ugh, ignore that hipster shout-out title) laces a scary second-person mortality tale — "you realize the blood is probably yours" — with a hypnotic electronic groove. Each new shade on Lewis' mood ring is a chance at something befuddling or spectacular. And when you get to the slick, brick-house rock anthem "Portions for Foxes," and she starts shouting, "baby I'm bad news!" turn it up because you know you've been there.

Horny Jazz

Tony Malaby Trio

Adobe
(Sunnyside)
Primarily known as a first-rate free improviser, Malaby has an introspective side that often gets underplayed. But this release firmly establishes the 40-year-old tenor and soprano saxophonist as a subtle melodist and mood-setter. His horn can be elegiac, as on "Dorotea la Cautiva," or quizzical, as on the winding "Cosas." What never falters is the freshness of his solo excursions. For this, he shares equal credit with his distinguished company. Drummer Paul Motian is jazz's sage of small gestures, capable of painting a canvas with one tap of a cymbal. And bassist Drew Gress reinforces his adept solo and support skills. Together this trio has made an attractively modest statement that should win Malaby converts from beyond his experimental base.

Swamp Rock/Opiate Blues

Mark Lanegan Band

Bubblegum
(Beggars Banquet)
"Anything but heroin. That shit'll kill you." So say burnouts with customized bongs and scratched Trainspotting DVDs. If addiction were that simple, Mark Lanegan would still be the Screaming Trees singer who nearly lost her there, rather than a developed grunge drifter with the spliced genetics of Waits, Burroughs and bluesmen who down whiskey and Marlboros for breakfast. Appropriately enough, Bubblegum references not blown bubbles but how Lanegan "stretches" when he's "bombed." As for his band, it's less an entity than a support group, including Greg Dulli, PJ Harvey and hedonists from Queens of the Stone Age and Guns 'n' Roses. Players aside, Lanegan is the tragic focal point. Just try not to watch as his skin beads with sweat under flickering street lamps, or listen as he croaks cold turkey tales over dank drum machines, distorted groove boxes and frothy guitars. Misery shouldn't sound this good.

Jazz/Working Holiday

William Galison and Madeleine Peyroux

Got You On My Mind
(Waking Up Music)
With chanteuse Madeleine Peyroux emerging after the way-too-long recording hiatus — following her '96 debut, Dreamland -- all ears will be on her Rounder smooth-jazz-ish release, Careless Love. But this indie (and more edgy) effort with New York-based multi-instrumentalist William Galison should find its audience. The charmingly retro vibe succeeds primarily through understatement. Peyroux still sounds spookily like Billie Holiday, and her semi-lethargic, semi-sexy vocals are used to their best advantage here, mixed between standards and original numbers. Blessedly, there are no heavy overdubs or swirling strings, just smoky remakes of Peyroux concert faves, like "Heaven to Me," and Josephine Baker's "J'ai Deux Amours" — which features a jarringly spirited harmonica solo by Galison — along with unique interpretations of classics by Kern and Jolson, and a couple of pop numbers (including John Lennon's mournful "Jealous Guy," recorded sans Peyroux).