E-mail me at Michael@MichaelPatrickHarrington.com if you have any suggestions or comments.

Dateline: 04-01-05

  1. The Tigers Have Spoken by Neko Case (2004)
    Why (in three sentences or less): It took time to delve into this live record; it seemed all surface on first listen. But repeated spins reveal Neko to be both an incisive songwriter (the title track concerns the shooting of a tiger, but the sound of the singer's broken heart is louder than the gunshot) and an intuitive interpreter, ripping her way through songs by Buffy Sainte-Marie and Loretta Lynn.


  2. Music From Big Pink by The Band (1968)
    Every year, I re-immerse myself in the Band's oeuvre. Nobody sounded like they did back then and no one does now. In their songs, in the voices of Levon Helm and the late Richard Manuel and Rick Danko, in the call and response communal vocals, in the way four Canadians and one Southern boy interpreted the world around them, the Band managed to capture an America and its citizens in the blur of a change, one foot in fresh soil, the other in one in the grave.


  3. Failer by Kathleen Edwards (2003)
    I bought this record after reading advance press for her new record, Back to Me. Working firmly in the country genre (as opposed to, say, Shania Twain), Kathleen wanders, exhausted, into walking wounded territory without ever (completely) succumbing to victimhood. "And if you weren't so old I'd probably keep you/If you weren't so old I'd tell my friends/But I don't think your wife would like my friends."


  4. Make Do With What You Got by Solomon Burke (2005)
    The king of soul reappears with his follow up to Don't Give Up On Me, the best record of 2002. Whereas that record emphasized space and allowed Mr. Burke the room to wrangle the lyrics and melodies of Bob Dylan, Tom Waits, Van Morrison, and Elvis Costello (among others) with his penitent, patient gospel delivery, the new album bursts where it should whisper, and the singer ends up leading a soul revue rather than surveying a review of the soul. Not a bad thing, but not transcendent either.


  5. Nature's Assembly Line by Jack Logan & the Monday Night Recorders (2005)
    In an attempt to re-ignite their approach to songwriting, Jack Logan, Kevin Lane, and a host of friends gathered every Monday night with one goal: write and record three songs on their home recording equipment. This record assembles 15 tracks from those sessions, and what they lack in polish (or endings), they make up for with ingenuity and surprising subtlety. Not everything works, but when it does, Jack and friends, once again, prove that guts and creativity beat American Idol ideals (i.e. commerciality) every time.


  6. How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb by U2 (2004)
    It's back on the list again if for no other reason than track two: "Miracle Drug." In the twilight of Terry Schiavo's life, this song sounded truer than anything her parents or her husband or the Republicans or the religious right babbled into the cavalcade of cameras: "I want to hear you when you call/Do you feel anything at all?/I want to see your thoughts take shape/And walk right out." Good night, Terry.


  7. Complete Live at Slug's Saloon Recordings by Albert Ayler (2004)
    This reissue presents Albert Ayler's complete performance at Slug's Saloon on May 1, 1966, accompanied by his brother Donald on trumpet, a violinist, and a rhythm section that sound like an anxious getaway car. Almost completely improvised, Alyer used dissonance and modal playing to turn the concert into an exorcism: it could fall apart at any minute, it could dissolve into utter noise, but waiting on the other side was pure heaven; every risk was worth the reward. Not for the feint of soul.


  8. Déjà vu All Over Again by John Fogerty (2004)
    A small, even slight effort by CCR's driving force, Fogerty nevertheless manages to polish off a couple of gems, most impressively the title track wherein Fogerty encapsulates the Iraq War in much the same way he did the Vietnam War in the Creedence classic "Have You Ever Seen the Rain." And therein lies the problem: Fogerty has always been a miniaturist; heaven was in the details, and he never needed to paint his concerns on an album sleeve. For this (mostly enjoyable) record, however, Fogerty mines familiar turf (melodies, riffs), but often forgets the details.


  9. The Essential Bruce Springsteen by Bruce Springsteen (2003)
    A triple set with the first two platters surveying his entire career, and a third disc that makes it truly essential: a collection of previously unreleased studio recordings (with the mighty E-Street Band and solo) and a smattering of live band performances of songs that never made it to an album. Highlights: "Code of Silence" (an uncompromising, even angry accusation), "Held Up Without a Gun" (a frantic, desperate duet between Bruce and Little Steven), and "The Big Payback" (a Nebraska-era rockabilly outtake recorded by Bruce solo on just an electric guitar). But it's "Missing," a track Bruce gave to Sean Penn for the film The Crossing Guard, that will keep you up at night and remind you why you got into Bruce in the first place.


  10. Rio by Duran Duran
    Go ahead, laugh, but it's a great record, very much of its time, stylish, danceable, with a rocking first half and moody second side. Were we ever this innocent? No, but it's nice to pretend.