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July 31-August 6, 2008
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Vocal locals
by Dale Bridges
Once again, it’s time to give some love to the local artists who are helping create that distinctive Front Range Sound.
Today, we start with poetess and local folk/blues songstress Rebecca Folsom. Water on Stone is Folsom’s sixth album, and it demonstrates her growing talent for combining personal lyrics with accessible, unpretentious instrumentation. For the most part, the music is straightforward blues-rock fare with brief glimpses of country, bluegrass and funk thrown in for good measure. Chris Malley provides some precise mandolin pickin’ and Eric Moon’s keyboards add a lot of flavor without ever taking over. The first half of the album is poppy and fun, but not really memorable. However, I thought it picked up in the second half, starting with the gritty, forceful “Will of a Woman” and ending with an eerie, little cover of Grace Slick’s “White Rabbit,” which Folsom handles with bitter-sweet reverence. Altogether a solid album from a confident artist.
Letters I Never Plan to Mail is the sophomore CD from Boulder-based WadiRum, and it’s an extremely promising album. Those who attempt to define WadiRum’s music usually settle for something like folk-jazz or experimental-acoustic-lounge-music or I-don’t-know-what-I’m-talking-about-so-I’ll-just-hyphenate-some-crap. Defying categorization can be deadly for some musicians, who are so busy trying not to sound like something that they end up sounding like nothing at all. This is not the case for WadiRum. They are at their best when they take risks, such as nifty little anti-ballad “Dinosaur Bones” or the freewheeling “Telene at 22.” Although I’m not sure WadiRum would approve of this comparison, the best moments on Letters remind me of Barenaked Ladies’ third CD, Born on a Pirate Ship, which I still consider their best. I enjoy Letters for what it is, but I like it more for the promises it makes about this band’s future.
Something Underground wants to entertain, and I like that. There are far too many bands worried about being “edgy” or “misunderstood” or “mad at their dads.” But Something Underground actually wants you to have fun listening to their music, and that shows on their latest release, We Came to Get Down. It’s a weird, little rock album that brings to mind echoes of Lenny Kravitz and Guns N’ Roses and even some Bob Marley. “One Fish” is a poppy rock number that borrows its theme from a Dr. Seuss rhyme, and “Dirty” is a happy breakup song that has a hairband-esque guitar solo in the middle of it for no apparent reason. However, by far, my favorite tune is “Zombies,” because, honestly, there just aren’t enough songs about the undead out there. This is a rock band that has no problem diving into country, reggae, hip hop or whatever else brings the audience to its feet. Altogether, I’d rather see this band live than listen to their album, but they still put a smile on my face.
I like Boulder Acoustic Society because I don’t have to waste my goddamn time telling you where they’re from or what kind of music they play — they cover all that in their name. This is a hard-working band that’s having a lot of success in a very competitive acoustic market. The Caged Bird is actually kind of a groundbreaking album. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard anyone meld bluegrass, jazz, country, rock and pop with such success before. In fact, if someone told me they were in a band that combined those five genres, I would probably punch them in the face. However, I will not punch anyone from BAS in the face and here’s why: 1) I’m actually kind of a pussy, and 2) this is a really fucking good album. Experimental, but not pretentious. Fun and serious in all the right places. Weird, but not in a “look at how weird I am” way. Think of Dropkick Murphys — now take out the drunken Irishmen and add stoned hillbilly hippies. “In the Year of Our Lord” sounds like a George Strait tune, except there’s a horn solo in the middle. “No Matter What I Do” is Elvis Presley on methamphetamines. “Drinkin’ Trash” actually gives step-by-step instructions to underage drinkers on how to imbibe without getting caught. My favorite song is the gleefully creepy “Walk,” but I don’t even know why. And that’s the greatest compliment you can give a band.
Respond: letters@boulderweekly.com
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