Fantastic Voyage
Susan James
(Red Letter)
Of related interest: Joni Mitchell, Jewel, Sinead O'Connor

After self-releasing her 1996 debut, Shocking Pink Banana Seat, Susan James saw a flurry of press attention that included a section in a New York Times feature about emerging female singer-songwriters. Publishing and label offers naturally followed, but the California songstress resisted the urge to sign away her talents and instead went to work on a follow-up. The result is the double CD Fantastic Voyage, a wide-ranging collection that miraculously lives up to its title. The first platter, subtitled "Lovesick," features folk-rock ditties like "Static" and "Every Side of Lonely," daring songs that accentuate James' magnificent vocal range and prodigious abilities as a guitarist. In "All She Ever Wanted," she saunters into a countrified waltz and sings as if the ghost of Patsy Cline were holding a knife to her throat. With a backing band that includes ex-Replacement Tommy Stinson on bass and assorted studio players, she expresses herself with a poise and intelligence rarely found in musicians who have twice her experience--not to mention recording budgets. On the second disc, "Stranger Bedfellows," James somehow suppresses her classically trained voice in favor of instrumentals. The tactic allows her to explore textural motifs, but it also punctuates the gutsiness that fuels this peculiar, worthwhile voyage. Richard Martin

Push the Button
Money Mark
(Mo Wax/London)
Of related interest: Blaxploitation film
soundtracks, DJ Shadow, Guided by Voices

Best known for his beautiful keyboard playing on the Beastie Boys' Ill Communication, Money Mark proves that potential is far more interesting than perfection. Push the Button, his second solo full-length, is hardly flawless. On the 18-song album, you will hear plenty of sentimental pop ballads and instrumental funk songs that sound as if they were lifted from a '70s porn movie. But each song on Push the Button is performed so earnestly and with so much personality that you tend to overlook the less-than-desirable tracks. It's easy to dismiss something like "Tomorrow Will Be Like Today" as a sickly sweet pop ballad. But Money Mark has a way of turning the line "I don't care about nothing when it's you and me/Tomorrow will be like today" into an urgent yet jaded observation of how fleeting relationships can be rather than a boyish expression of love. Likewise the song "Rock in the Rain" contains maudlin lines such as "People change/I'm just a rock in the rain" but expands on the theme until it becomes an articulate expression of how truly terrifying change can be. Although there are several hip-hop-inspired dance tracks, listeners expecting a Beastie Boys offshoot should take note: This album is more reminiscent of Stevie Wonder's funky jazz of the early '70s than of anything the Beasties have ever done. David Kihara

Unclean
Rorschach Test
(Slipdisc/Mercury)
Of related interest: Ministry, Bile (minus the fun), Berlin

Rorschach Test vocalist James Baker attended seminary school and was ordained a minister until something odd happened: He decided Christian theology was as faulty and deficient as a used Yugo. So much for the easy ride to heaven. Baker then opted to take the low road to hell, figuring that, if he didn't belong in the ministry, he might as well start a Ministry rip-off band. It's an obvious comparison: On Unclean, he and his bandmates baptize themselves in the River of Jourgensen at every turn. (What's that I hear? Metallic power-chords over simple synth programs? Unmelodic throaty bellows? Why, it's all so original. Sign these boys immediately. There's cash to glean from gullible kids, dammit.)

You may think I'm being too harsh. There are moments, on tracks such as the surprisingly delicate "Lament" and "Hold," when some personality pokes through the steel blanket of clichéd electro-angst. But too often Rorschach Test relies on the standard-issue thump and grind of bad industrial rock, formula and familiarity triumphing over genuine creative expression. It's never a good sign when your catchiest song is a cover, and Unclean's best cut is a testosterone-swollen take on Berlin's "Sex." Hey, play whatever copycat crap you want, but leave someone else's legacy alone, huh? John Graham

 

originally published July 29, 1998