Lisa Bell - Dancing on the Moon

Lisa Bell delivers the goods on her third album, mixing blues, jazz, pop, and roots into a bright, sparkling mix. Her voice can be both polished and loose, and shimmering washes of percussion, chimes, and layered instrumentation provide a worthy backdrop to her lyrics.

“Change Is Free,” the story of an unemployed woman facing daunting economic prospects, is the disc’s standout track, with a funky vibe, heavy beat, and touches of organ. Rather than embracing despair, she opts for change. “I can wait for the shining knight to save the day / I can pray that an angel comes my way... but change is up to me.” An accordion gives “After All” a mellow, European feel. It’s a song of struggle and redemption, accepting responsibility for past mistakes but moving on. Bell’s vocal perfectly suits the languorous tone of the hip-swaying bossa nova beat on “Misty Roses,” another highlight.

Bell gets loose with “Stand Up,” a quirky, danceable tune with prominent drums, organ, and electric guitar creating blasts of sound, and there is a comic element to “How Long,” in which a woman deals with insomnia and delayed flights while waiting to be reunited with her lover. Bell’s voice is full of yearning on “The Last Time,” in which an old love is renounced, with piano adding depth to this ballad.

The varied material on the disc provides plenty of opportunities for Bell to show off her versatile voice, which conveys longing, acceptance, hopefulness, anticipation, and joy in turn. With superb guitar and percussion throughout, it’s clear she is interested in each song not just as a showcase for herself but as a means of communication between artist and listener. Mostly, you get the sense that Bell loves what she’s doing and wants to share the beauty and excitement of these songs with you. Dancing On The Moon is an enjoyable outing of both smooth and improvisational songs, with an upbeat feel, and the blend of styles makes it perfect for the musically adventurous.

Review by Karen Duda

Carole King – The Essential Carole King

Legacy Recordings

Were you to take a random sampling of the average music listener and say to them: “Quick, hum a few bars of 'One Fine Day.' Now, "(You Make Me Feel) Like A Natural Woman.' Great. Now who wrote them?" Chances are most people could belt out the entire tune for you right on the spot but few would be able to identify Carole King as the songwriter.

Partially, this phenomenon has to do with how we view musicians. We love the sparkly, charismatic lead singer but care less about the bass player keeping the beat, and even less about the person who created the music in the first place. Celebrity culture loves performers, not writers. But this also has to do with what we think of songwriters when we do give them a few moments consideration. The average Joe you had asked about the songwriter might take a stab at it: Bernie Taupin? Neil Diamond? Not many of us can pinpoint who wrote the pop songs we love, but we often assume it’s a man behind the curtain.

This collection will blow you away. The Essential Carole King is divided into The Singer and The Songwriter giving us a huge sampling of King’s catalogue. The first CD is perfect reflective, comforting music to turn on after a long day at work. Admittedly, songs like "The Reason" (yes, a duet with Celine Dion) and "Sweet Seasons" cross the line into “easy listening” and make you wonder if King was just sort of churning out radio-friendly tunes. But hey, we’ve all got to make a pay check. Not to worry, classics like "I Feel the Earth Move" and "You’ve Got A Friend" are the bread and butter of this collection, a perfect compilation of unpretentious well-crafted lyrics and unique but catchy piano riffs.

If anything, the problem with this album is that The Songwriter CD can’t quite match the genius of the songs Carole performs herself. The dated-high pitched Monkees singing "Pleasant Valley Sunday" seem sort of silly after listening to "It’s Too Late," and The Everly Brothers crying in the rain isn’t anywhere as authentic as King singing "So Far Away." None the less, there are a lot of good quality songs here that most of us have heard on the radio a million times. Dusty Springfield’s "No Easy Way Down" is a welcome rediscovery.

Any serious music lover should own this collection. Next time you attend a wedding and "The Loco-Motion" inevitably comes on, you can shimmy up to your fellow dancers and remind them this song was written by a female song-writing legend.

Review by Jennifer Burgess

Gaida - Levantine Indulgence

Palmyra Recordings

Singer and composer Gaida’s debut album Levantine Indulgence is named for Levant, the Fertile Crescent’s desert oasis. Aptly named, this album offers listeners an abundance of vocal and instrumental styles that even the most resistant listeners can find nourishing and enchanting.

The opening track, “Dream,” begins with rhythmic clapping and percussion and a chorus of male voices who share vocals with the lead singer. I should clarify by referring to sharing and “trading.” This distinction is important because the contrast of Gaida’s voice with the male singers makes this short song into a true performance. The vocal banter between Gaida and the men reminded me of a musical where the lead female actor is center stage and the men in the chorus sing to her with the purpose of wooing or impressing her. But in the case of “Dream,” the men sing with Gaida at the end of the song. Unlike a traditional musical from an earlier era, where the woman needs to fend off potential suitors with clever lyrics and a silky voice, in this modern version Gaida works with the men, but the song is still decidedly hers.

“Kaifa Uhibuka” transports the listener to a smoky, jazz club with purple walls and red, plush booths. When I close my eyes and listen to this track, I’m a patron of this club, sipping gin and smoking a clove cigarette, while I lean back into my lush surroundings to enjoy the music. I despise gin and I no longer smoke, but the song evokes feelings of real or imagined indulgence, and yet sadness. I felt that this song represented the overall mood of the album even more than the title track.

Another track that evoked this mood was the beautiful ballad “Ghayeb.” The piano, cello, and flute blend with Gaida’s vocals to create a song that expresses love, longing, and caring. Despite the fact that the lyrics are not in English, my eyes filled with tears as I listened to “Ghayeb.” Without even knowing what Gaida was saying, I could feel the pain and loss in her voice. When you hear a song like this, it can cause you to have a flashback to a situation that may have been painful, or one that caused you to feel a sense of bittersweet regret. Granted, this isn’t exactly a desirable feeling, but if a song can make you feel this way, I think that’s pretty powerful.

Gaida has lived in Germany, Damascus, Detroit, Paris, Kuwait, and New York. Through the incorporation of jazz, bossa nova, ballad, Tarab (ecstasy) songs, Arab folk, and traditional Arabic maqam (modes) and improvisational style in her music, it is easy to see that she has carried pieces of these places with her as she has traveled the globe. Some people would create a scrapbook or a photo album of their diverse living experiences; Gaida has produced an audio diary of her musical and emotional journeys, and the listener can feel her sentiment with beat of the bass, the raining piano notes, and memorable melodies. On the album cover, the artist in fact states that she, “will always sing with tears close to my eyes, beats pounding my fragile heart, and care wrapping the entire world.”

By Rachel Muzika Scheib

Whitney Houston - The Deluxe Anniversary Edition

Legacy Recordings

I came of age in the days of AM radio. I can still remember listening to Casey Kasem counting down the Top 40 hits on Sunday nights before FM radio, the Internet, blog radio, and terms like market segmentation became part of our lexicon. In the space of twenty or so minutes, you could hear a song by Barbara Streisand, Journey, The Bee Gees, and maybe something by Johnny Cash as well.

I like to think growing up in the '70s made me more open minded as a person because we had to listen to everything that was played on the radio. We didn’t have the choice to opt out or create our own digital world of favorites the way teenagers do today. My theory is not born out of reality, however, because my twenty-one-year-old niece is much more culturally aware and sophisticated about the world than I was at her age.

As I was listening to this deluxe anniversary edition of Whitney Houston’s greatest hits, I felt some nostalgia for those seemingly less complicated days of my youth. Nostalgia is a powerful emotion because you find yourself remembering an idealized time of your life that is lost forever. I couldn’t help but remember how Houston ruled the airways for most of the '80s and part of the '90s with her powerful renditions of songs like “The Greatest Love of All,” “You Give Good Love,” “Saving All My Love for You,” “Hold Me,” and “How Will I Know.”

Houston was a child prodigy. She began singing at a very young age (she’s the daughter of soul singer Cissy Houston and the cousin of singer Dionne Warwick, so I guess the singing genes run in the family) and her career took off when she was barely out of her teens. She was discovered by the legendary Clive Davis while performing in a New York nightclub.

Houston is a groundbreaking crossover artist who appeals to all demographics with her gospel influenced, pop-soul musical style. She is the only artist with seven consecutive multi-platinum albums. Her cover of Dolly Parton’s “I Will Always Love You” is the highest-selling single of all time. She was also the first African American woman to receive regular play on MTV; her “How Will I Know” video paving the way for such artists as Janet Jackson and Anita Baker.

Although Houston is one of the greatest female singers of her generation, I never followed her career that closely, but I am aware of the personal and professional highs and lows she has experienced over the years. As I listened to her effortlessly belting out some of her trademark hits on this CD, I found myself revisiting memories of where I was when I first heard a particular song. Houston's music, like her life, has become indelibly linked with our triumphs and tribulations. When I think of Whitney Houston and how she continues to endure despite her setbacks, I can’t help but root for her all over again.

Review by Gita Tewari

Christy and Emily - No Rest

Klangbad

Brooklyn songstress roommates, longtime collaborators, and bestie brunettes Christy Edwards and Emily Manzo have hipster cred out the wazoo. So do loads of other borough-based bands, but few have the raw talent of these two singer-songwriter women—a label that hardly defines the true depth of their talent. Their music, at times hauntingly sparse, reverberates with their lush voices and minimal instrumentation, often just Christy’s guitar or Emily’s keyboard. Sound cloying? The opposite is true. There is nothing pretentious or difficult about this album.

On No Rest, their second release this year, the gals focus on teasing out their folk influences, veering away from their psychedelic roots. At the same time, they maintain their sound experimentation and focus less on complicated lyrics. Lines like “Why not live a life of truth/Like your siblings” could be as autobiographical as they could be creative poetry put to music. No matter that their words are uncomplicated; every sound out of their mouths is truly beautiful, and there is additional beauty in simplicity.

“Idle Hands” has some of the best rhythmic composition on the album and draws to mind a more serious Girls Guitar Club, starting Christy and Emily instead of Karen Kilgariff & Mary Lynn Rajskub.

“Here Comes the Water Now” is a nod to natural disaster—and how unfortunately timely. The nearly rhyming lyrics—which pay off at the end—kept me fully engaged with the story as well as the music.

You’re gonna have to leave your home
You’re gonna have to go and roam
Wanna know why, I wanna know how
Here comes the water

Better decide on what to bring
Take a look around at everything
There’s only so much time will allow
Here comes the water... now

Closing track “Amaryllis”—which is coincidentally my favorite flower—uses the annual as a metaphor for periods of light and darkness. If you’ve never cared for these bulbous houseplants, just know that they’re like any other bulb. After blooming in the spring, they require months of darkness during the winter. In my experience, this typically means putting them in a large paper bag and tucking them in a dark corner until the springtime frost has vanished. C&E no doubt like these big horn-shaped flowers, as they’ve dedicated a whole song to them and sing, “Oh how lovely the plant you keep in the dark.”

From the album’s opening line—“I’m not scared of what I can’t see anymore”—to the sonic waves, gorgeous vocals, and wind chime-type sound effects, this album will mesmerize you. Let it.

Review by Brittany Shoot

Voice of an Angel: Talking to Jill Andrews

By Tina Vasquez

When I first spoke to singer Jill Andrews, I was quite shocked when she first answered the phone. Her voice was low, slow, and groggy, which wasn’t what I was expecting. You see, Andrews quite literally has the voice of an angel.

As it turned out, I was waking her up from a peaceful nap with her infant son, Nico. Nico was born around the time that Andrews’ critically acclaimed, Tennessee-based band, The Everybodyfields, broke up. She and her band were part of a growing wave of young musicians emerging from the south who are meshing the music of their region (country, bluegrass, and blues) with the music they grew up listening to (punk and indie rock) to create an interesting sound of their own. The Everybodyfields garnered a lot of attention early in their five-year career because of Andrews beautiful harmonizing with bandmate Sam Quinn and their constant touring with the increasingly popular Avett Brothers.

After the split, Andrews got to work creating music of her own, and recently released her first self-titled EP. No one can sing like Jill Andrews; no one can convey heartbreak and loneliness and aching pain like she can in just a single line. The EP is six songs of simple, pure, and heartfelt music, and though Andrews has a lot on her plate (a recent tour and her first child), she decided to release another six-track album recorded live at Eddie's Attic in Decatur, Georgia to benefit the International Rescue Committee and help the earthquake survivors in Haiti.

Who were your musical influences growing up?

My first tape was Diana Ross, and I wore that tape out when I was a kid. I have to say, though, that my first huge musical influence was Bette Midler. When I got to high school, I was really into folk music and started listening to things that weren’t on the radio, like The Jayhawks and Wilco. I was also really into Joni Mitchell.

A lot of what I started listening to in high school was influenced by my surroundings and where I came from. Living in the mountains of Tennessee influences the music we listened to, and the mountains were the perfect backdrop it. The music I like most now is the type of music I write and play. I like really emotional music. When I listen to songs, I want to feel something. I want to dirty dance or cry my eyes out.

When did you realize you wanted to be a musician?

I can remember always wanting to be famous, but my parents tell a different story. We always went to this donut shop together, and when I was a really little kid, my dad asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I said a donut waitress. In high school I was in youth choir, school choir, and church choir, and all of my instructors were really supportive and made sure that I knew my voice was going to be heard.

When did you meet Sam Quinn?

Around the same time I started playing guitar, I went to summer camp. Sam was a camp counselor, and he asked me to sing a song, so I put on a cheesy karaoke tape and sang to it. I’m sure he thought I was crazy. After the first week of camp, I realized I really needed a guitar because everyone who had a guitar sucked. I knew if I practiced I could be good at it. I’m sure I made a fool of myself at first, but I began writing songs immediately after getting my guitar.

What do you hope people take from your music?

I’ve always been into helping people. I was a psychology major in college, and I worked with kids who had behavioral issues, but I quit to pursue music full-time. For a long time I struggled with the decision because being a singer seemed too egocentric. Every night the spotlight was shining on me. I got all dressed up and it was kind of like, “Hey, look at me!” I’ve since made peace with it, though. Music helps the emotional state of the world. People need music, and I need to keep making music for the sake of my own well being, so it all works out in the end.