Spinning

I pitched a story to Spin awhile back, and to my surprise, they went for it. So check out the June issue for a short piece about Times New Viking, Psychedelic Horseshit and Pink Reason titled "Sh*tgaze: Columbus, Ohio, gives lo-fi a new, sorta gross name."

Bombadil - Rumba Cafe, 5/15

The four lads in Bombadil dress up in authentic suits and fedoras from Bolivia when they perform, an homage to the country two band members’ visited while studying abroad. For the band’s early show at Rumba Cafe last Thursday, one of the Duke grads was even decked out in matador-esque attire.

But it’s also worth nothing that they constantly lost their hats mid-song. It must have happened 10 or 12 times. And that’s a good thing. The whole Bolivian-look-alike schtick had the potential to be annoying or pompous, but these guys were so frenetic and playful onstage that it all came together in an entertaining package that was a treat for the sparse crowd.

The band shares three vocalists who are all mild mannered and fairly dorky (“Bombadil” is, after all, a Lord of the Rings character), yet charming and exceedingly animated. They sounded strikingly similar as they jumped from mic to mic, properly enunciating in a classical, vaguely European way reminiscent of The Decemberists’ Colin Meloy.

They also happen to be superb songwriters, crafting mounds of melodic hooks amid the band’s various influences--Piedmont blues, Latin American folk and world-music appropriations. One of the tunes was a lively, childlike song about a Polish bear named Otto. You wouldn’t think a song like “Johnny” could be just as fun and boisterous with lyrics like, “He tried to fill the void in his life by writing on his arm with a knife.” But it was. File it under “Playful Songs about Attempted Suicide.”

The Bombadilians switched instruments constantly, employing keys, guitar, drums, trumpet, xylophone and various pieces of percussion with aplomb. The insertion of a traditional Venezuelan hymn was nice and, not surprisingly, decidedly un-hymnlike compared to the Presbyterian ones I grew up with. Another tune was entirely in Spanish, but the basic gist of it, according to the band, was that “somebody screwed somebody else over.”

In case you were curious, Bombadil’s favorite southeast Asian country is Malaysia, as they noted before a song about the country and its capitol, Kuala Lumpur. “So much to say, Malaysia, so much to say,” the song goes. But other than “monsoon winds will take you home,” the song doesn’t say too much about the country. Bombadil cleverly realizes that the energy and spirit of the music can, and sometimes should, speak for itself.

“Cavaliers Har Hum,” off the band’s outstanding debut album, A Buzz, A Buzz, released in late April, is a rousing anthem with lyrics that mirror the Cleveland Cavs’ rise and demise this season: “Cavaliers, sing out in glory, har hum/Cavaliers, it’s the same old story, har hum.” “Julian of Norwich,” about a female English mystic from the 14th century, and “Buzz, A Buzz” were equally spirited and off-kilter in all the right ways.

The set was also interspersed with some low-key pieces on guitar and keyboard that were usually performed solo by Matador Man (my term, not theirs). They weren’t quite as successful as the rollicking songs but did serve as a nice breather now and then. “Smile When You Kiss” had an old-school folky feel that was juxtaposed with present-day sentiments such as, “Get off your cellphone ‘cause they’re tracking you home.”

If anything, the split sets suffered most from the tragically small crowd and an unnaturally early show, two surefire vibe killers. (Seriously, Rumba--a 6 pm scheduled start time?) But with an album as strong as this band’s debut, and a live show that’s even more engaging, a buzz around Bombadil is sure to come. Jump on board now and watch as that little buzz turns into a noisy swarm.

mp3: Bombadil - Johnny
mp3: Bombadil - Get to Getting On

Sinkane - Color Voice

If you know Sinkane’s Ahmed Gallab from his stints in hardcore bands, you’re going to have to wipe the slate clean, because that’s what this Columbus musician did for his new project. To even put Sinkane’s debut, Color Voice, in the broad, all-encompassing “rock” category might be a stretch.

Coming in at just over 30 minutes, the album is best thought of as one long composition divided into four seamless movements that retain a similar fluidity but integrate different themes and soundscapes. Sound ambitious? It is, but with Gallab as the multi-instrumentalist architect, Sinkane has created a genre-bending piece so fresh you’ll happily start all over again when the last looped notes fade away.

Columbus recently got a taste of Sinkane at a Wexner Center show with Caribou, a band Gallab recently started touring with as its replacement drummer. It’s a big break for Gallab, and it’s also a natural fit--Sinkane is like Caribou’s weirder, quieter little brother.

Sinkane’s stuff is also significantly less structured. Opener “Thick Device” is the most ethereal of the four tracks, setting the mood and establishing the fluent feel of the record with keyboard loops and backward guitar riffs wending their way in and out. The drums (Gallab’s forte) make their first appearance on “Color Voice,” still a mellow affair until the horns kick in and meld into a jazzy freak-out with dueling tenor saxes on top of a repeating brass melody.

“Autobahn” is the centerpiece of the composition, the primary movement. Not coincidentally, it’s also the only track with words, which find Gallab “singing in my head, singing all alone.” It’s the most compelling track, the added layer of woodwinds giving the song a weightless quality despite the lonesome vocals.

Any world music influences don’t appear until the last track, “Drumps.” (Gallab gets those influences honestly--he’s the son of a freedom-fighter journalist/politician who fled Sudan with his family when Gallab was six.) The song opens with a vaguely tribal feel that’s gradually overtaken by Gallab pounding away on a drum set. The sax and loops again take front stage before the song erupts into a full-on drum onslaught, then “Drumps” slowly, delicately fades away as you recover from the explosion.

It’s nice to hear songs with so much open space. Still, I wouldn’t mind a little tightening and editing here and there on future releases. And perhaps some more tunes, too; this debut feels more like a teaser of what’s to come, a handshake without the full introduction. But first impressions are key, and this is a good one that has me excited for what Gallab has in store.

mp3: Sinkane - Color Voice
mp3: Sinkane - Autobahn
mp3: Sinkane's live perfomance at the Wexner Center

Steve Earle - Southern Theatre, 5/6

Chances are, if someone tries hard to be relevant, the transparency of that effort will end up making the person irrelevant. Such is the challenge for a topical songwriter like Steve Earle, who follows in the tradition of Bob Dylan and Pete Seeger.

But there’s also a reason Earle named his son Justin Townes Earle after Townes Van Zandt. Like Van Zandt, Earle’s greatest skill is his ability to tell a story. At the Southern Theatre on Tuesday night, it was those tales--not the politicking and attempts at rabble-rousing--that truly revealed why he’s still relevant.

Earle kicked off the mostly solo show with “Steve’s Last Ramble,” harmonica around his neck and boot stomping the stage, playing the role of a lonely folkie trying to find his way back to his woman. It was refreshingly rough around the edges and real, as were other country numbers like closer “Copperhead Road” and “Little Rock ‘N Roller.”

Earle dedicated “Now She’s Gone” to “what’s-her-name, wherever the hell she is,” along with “Goodbye.” “Same girl, different harmonica,” he said. It takes a rough-and-tumble guy like Steve Earle to pull off love songs like these without sounding overly sentimental. And it requires just as much skill to perform a long-form poem about an outlaw sentenced to die without becoming trite, but that’s just what he did with “Billy Austin.”

And then the deejay came out. Now, the deejay songs weren’t all bad, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that turntable scratching alongside Steve Earle was a glaring anachronism. It was a mixing of the contemporary and the tattered, seemingly an attempt to modernize old songs like “Guitar Town” and showcase newer tunes like “Jericho Road.” The tribal flavor of “CCKMP (Cocaine Cannot Kill My Pain),” along with reverberating echo to drive home the point, worked nicely, but other songs with hip-hoppy beats felt sorely out of place. Perhaps it’s Earle’s attempt to incorporate some of New York City’s personality into the material after migrating there from Nashville. Earle may feel at home there now, but the city hasn’t yet nestled comfortably into his repertoire.

Allison Moorer, Earle’s wife and show opener, came out for a few duets, and while the two didn’t clash, they didn’t really jel, either. A more subtle female vocal than Moorer would suit the songs better. She has some pipes and sang her opening set with gusto, but her overly affected phrasing didn’t quite suit the female songwriters she covered. Moorer has a habit of turning words like “orphan” into “or-PHAWN,” “forsaken” into “forsak-AWN” and “love” into “luu-UV.”

Earle finally got political toward the end of the evening, instructing the audience to “pick a side” and singing songs from last year’s Washington Square Serenade, such as “City of Immigrants” and “Steve’s Hammer (For Pete),” the latter of which turned into an audience sing-along. Both came across as juvenile protest songs filled with platitudes compared with the finely spun yarns from the rest of the night. “Jerusalem” was probably the best of his most overtly political material, packaged with the hope that “one fine day all the children of Abraham will lay down their swords forever in Jerusalem.”

But it’s in the stories where Earle’s convictions are really allowed to take root. “The Devil’s Right Hand,” which a tracks a young man’s love affair with a pistol, is a much more nuanced castigation of war and violence.

Political posturing is hit or miss, but a good story will always be relevant.

All I Need

Radiohead's new video for "All I Need" is stirring, a call to action against child slavery and trafficking set to the ominous tune from In Rainbows.

Bon Iver's coming to town

August 3rd at the Wexner Center. Yessssss.

Southeast Engine

After releasing its third album on Misra Records last October, Athens, Ohio group Southeast Engine has finally been deemed worthy of a review by Pitchfork. Better late than never, I guess. A Wheel Within a Wheel, the title of which is a biblical reference to a trippy vision in Ezekiel, is absolutely stellar--probably one of the most overlooked albums in 2007. I still have no qualms about including it in my top five from last year.

Fortunately for the arty, alt.-country indie rockers, P-fork gave it a respectable 7.1. What's the difference between 7 and 7.1 you ask? Nothing. Still, love 'em or hate 'em, Pitchfork can make or break a band, and I hope they end up making this one. I particularly like this description in the review: "A Wheel Within a Wheel is more complex than the average Christian rock tract. The Biblical/religious imagery running throughout the disc doesn't tip the group's hand so much as provide the album a fruitful thematic framework as Remnant shouts into the abyss in search of answers."

For a better review, though, Paste's Andy Whitman wrote about the band a while back here (scroll down to Dec. 15).

Here in Ohio, you can catch Southeast Engine at the Nelsonville Art & Music Festival, along with the Avett Brothers, Akron/Family, Moviola, O'Death, Justin Townes Earle and others, May 16-18.

mp3: Southeast Engine - Oh God, Let Me Back In