Okay, so I'm not quite returning with a bang -- to begin with, I didn't really go anywhere, just vanished into a writing workshop for several weeks. Some good music came my way during that time, but I was in no condition to tell you about it.
Fortunately, with the onset of autumn, I can turn my attention to the bounty of excellent CDs that have come out recently. You know, autumn is one of the busiest times of year for new albums... anyway, as is usual, I've got a bit of this and a bit of that for you. To start off, there's the Broadway cast recording of the new musical Hairspray, which previewed here in Seattle over the summer. I've got some low-key, meditative stuff from Celtic-trance act Dagda, as well as Earth Trybe's new release Rhythm of the Earth and Apart from gothic Floridians Mira. Native American singer-songwriter Bill Miller has a new CD from Paras, and European goth-industrialists In Strict Confidence's new album, Mistrust the Angels, is out from Metropolis. Finally, I'll wrap things up with a sparkling new release from local singer-songwriter Carrie Akre. Something for everyone: That's Earth Tones' motto.
There are a number of measures by which a musical might be considered successful. In considering the Broadway cast recording of Hairspray, which is based on the 1988 John Waters film of the same name, one such measure might be how well the songs recall the characters of the film. Though it's Marissa Jaret Winokur's star turn as Tracy Turnblad, one can't help but think of Ricki Lake in the role in the film. And though it's almost impossible to imagine anyone but Divine in the role of Edna Turnblad, Tracy's mother, somehow Harvey Fierstein manages it. As in Waters' film, this paean to big girls, big hair and racial equality centers around its female characters, who get the lion's share of the songs and whose actions drive the plot of an oversize teenager who beats out her blond, skinny rival for local stardom in early-1960s Baltimore. The music and lyrics, by Marc Shaiman (of South Park: Bigger, Longer and Uncut fame) and Scott Wittman, brim over with lightheartedness and joy, even while the events they describe become more and more serious. It is perhaps not an overstatement to say that Hairspray is a balm for the troubled heart. While listening to "You Can't Stop the Beat" won't solve any of your problems, this music has charms to soothe the ravaged soul.
The new release from Celtic-trance act Dagda is called Hibernia (Paras) and draws direct inspiration from the myths and legends of Ireland. A quick survey of music releases over the past few decades might suggest that this territory, first explored by Clannad, has been mined enough, but evidently the duo known as Dagda don't think so. That said, the result in this case isn't bad. Consisting mostly of instrumental tracks, with some vocals and chant (mostly in Gaelic) here and there, Hibernia has plenty of floaty, atmospheric material usable for rituals where, say, visualization or guided meditation is what you're after. (It's mostly too understated for anything more physical.) The music is more structured than most of its ilk, which gives each individual track some form and direction. The CD booklet is interesting too, with thumbnails of the myth that inspired each piece, though no one at all familiar with Irish myth will find anything new there. One does wish, on occasion, that Dagda would import some actual musicians once in a while, instead of doing everything except the vocals electronically. Electronics still mostly can't mimic real instruments effectively, and it could be argued that they shouldn't try. Still, Hibernia is pleasant enough, with enough variety to sustain listening interest.
Similar in scope, though somewhat more restrained, is Rhythm of the Earth (Paras) from Earth Trybe. This is one of those pan-cultural "world" recordings that doesn't sound as though it's derived from any regional or cultural style in particular. Generally speaking, this sort of thing doesn't work very well, since the result tends to be bland and uninteresting. Rhythm of the Earth succeeds better than most. This is partly because it uses a lot of acoustic instrumentation instead of relying on electronics; where electronics are used, it's done unintrusively. Like the Avalon and Music Inspired by Middle-Earth CDs reviewed in this column in previous issues, this is a Diane and David Arkenstone project, and the assurance and confidence of these two veterans means that this collection is more self-assured and takes more risks musically than do most recordings in this genre. That's very welcome, since many recordings of this stripe numb the ear. Rhythm of the Earth, though, is not only musically interesting but can be applied to a variety of ritual contexts; it's evocative enough, without forcing any particular mood or mindset. While those wanting to dance will want something a little livelier, this CD would be very good for meditative work, and it has an earthier feel than most Arkenstone projects.
Similar to the previous two albums in feel, although quite different in musical style, is the new album from Mira, Apart (Projekt). Like most artists on this label, Mira play atmospheric, mellowly melancholy music. It's got a beat you can dance to, albeit slowly, and many of the songs have a sort of droning quality. That may sound dull, and in truth nobody would describe this music as exciting, but it's not boring either. That's partly because Mira are musically inventive enough to keep things interesting, even at well under 60 beats per minute, and because they're skilled at shifts in musical dynamics -- volume, tone, and harmony are all mutable. Mira hail from Florida, believe it or not, but this ain't sunny Miami or Disney World music. It's as deep and dark as the Everglades, and equally mysterious.
Native American singer-songwriter Bill Miller switched labels for his latest album, Spirit Rain (Paras), after recording several albums for venerable folk-blues label Vanguard. That right there tells you a little bit about his musical style, which is informed equally by Nashville and various Native American musical tropes. Miller's songwriting can also be intensely personal, and this is when it's at its best. Though the first five songs of Spirit Rain are pleasant enough, it's with "Face the Blues" that the album really catches fire. (Though as Miller expressly states, he tends more toward water associations; hence the album's title.) Perhaps not surprisingly, "Face the Blues" is one of Spirit Rain's most emotionally raw songs, but it's wonderfully effective. Miller has a folky style that's heavily imbued with a classic-rock aesthetic, so that his music is more smoothly executed than that of most recent singer-songwriters. This may not appeal to all tastes; on the other hand, it means that Miller can really rock out when he wants to. Personally, I wish he'd do that more often.
In Strict Confidence doesn't rock out, exactly, but there's a lot happening on the group's fourth album, Mistrust the Angels (Metropolis). To begin with, the European duo sings in three languages -- English, French, and German -- and they do some interesting things with loops and effects. Sometimes they sound swoopy and goth; sometimes they sound like they want to be Rammstein. Most of their music is danceable, yet they avoid the sameness that tends to plague bands of this genre, where once you've heard three or four tracks there's no point in listening to the rest of the album. In Strict Confidence, in contrast, are willing to experiment, and the results are definitely worth a spin or two. Stuff like "Engelsstaub" and "When the Heart Starts to Bleed" has a bit of a groove to it; "Herzattacke" is closer to straight electronica, and "Der Vampir und Dessen Verwandlung" is music you can stomp your boots to. In short, there's something here for every taste, so long as your taste runs to growled German lyrics and crunchy guitar bits.
Everything about Carrie Akre's new CD, Invitation (My Way), suggests that she's spreading her wings. Her previous solo release was titled Home (Good Ink) and was a solid, introspective work that showcased Akre's considerable songwriting talents, her evocative vocals and a remarkable stylistic variety. Invitation is a step beyond in every respect. Akre's lyrics are even better this time; a notable example is the song "House at the End of the World," which includes the line "She sees visions of futures, but not of her own." Or consider the first verse of "Not Yet": "They say life gets better after change/I just don't know but I guess I'm gonna find out/I'm not afraid, that's something I've left behind/It has no place/Where I am going." Akre explores her vocal abilities more fully; while her range is somewhat limited, she makes excellent use of what she has. And the far-flung stylistic threads of Home have here been gathered together to form a more coherent whole, one which contains so many high points that it's impossible to highlight them all. She's got major backup power, too, from many of Seattle's premier musicians: Amy Stolzenbach and Sean Bates, among others, appear on this album and when Akre performs live. Invitation is an aptly titled welcome into a view of the world that is thoughtful and exploratory. If you want to catch her live--definitely worthwhile--she plays Ballard's Tractor Tavern on Thursday, September 26.
Genevieve Williams is a Seattle freelance writer and drummer. She can be reached at rimrun@drizzle.com with feedback, suggestions or recommendations. Local and/or pagan musicians are encouraged to submit material for review.