Regina Spektor | Seu Jorge | Carrie Rodriguez | Michael Holland hasn

Break On Through You Might Not Know These Up-and-comers Yet, But We Think You Should.

by Kevin Raub
She went from having never sung a note in her life to releasing three albums - and being compared to June Carter Cash. Meet Carrie Rodriguez.
It could have been so easy for sultry Mexican­-American songstress Carrie ­Rodriguez to play up the June Carter Cash comparisons on her upcoming solo debut, Seven Angels on a Bicycle (Back Porch Records), due in August. With the success surrounding Walk the Line, the biopic about the rise and fall of Johnny Cash, audiences would have been already tuned into that somewhat lost 1950s country, 4-H-fair twang - the dominating sound on Rodriguez's first three duet albums with country-folk legend Chip Taylor. Instead, on Seven Angels on a Bicycle, the 27-year-old Berklee College of Music grad has gone with less bluegrass and more sass.

Despite having grown up in a family steeped in music - she's the daughter of well-known Austin songwriter David Rod­riguez and the great-niece of even more famous Mexican bolero balladeer Eva Garza - Rodriguez had never thought about singing; she played violin instead, from the age of five. In fact, she had never even sung a note outside of the shower when Taylor, with whom she was touring as a fiddler, forced her to the stage in Sweden in 2001.

"I honestly never thought there was any reason I should sing in public," says the Texas-born New York transplant. "My voice always sounded kind of harsh to me ... still does. Every time a song was coming up in the show that I had to sing on, I would get terribly nervous - to the extent that my knees were literally shaking!"

Still, Rodriguez soldiered on, and the fruits of her partnership with Taylor produced three duet albums, including 2005's critical favorite, Red Dog Tracks. "Singing in a recording studio or onstage when you don't consider yourself to be a singer is a little nerve-racking," she says. "When we made the first record, Let's Leave This Town, I remember thinking, 'People are going to hear this or, God forbid, buy this and know that I'm not a singer.' "

On Angels, Rodriguez puts that anxiety to rest. She embraces the center of attention, producing the album with Taylor and writing half the tracks with him as well. While she hasn't abandoned country-folk altogether - there's plenty of steel guitar and banjo here - standout crossover tracks like the sexy "Got Your Name on It" are sure to inspire more panting than pickin'.





MODERN-DAY MOUNTAIN MAN

His music is described as folk, Appalachian, bluegrass, and sometimes even "reggae grass" and "jam grass." But whatever you want to call it, it works. Because it's ­Michael Holland.
By James Mayfield

Though he's been making music since he was eight years old, Michael Holland hasn't exactly reached household-name status … yet. But it's not for lack of talent or work ethic on his part. The 37-year-old North Carolina-based singer-songwriter possesses­ both qualities in spades.

From 1992 to 2003, Holland fronted Jennyanykind, an alternative-rock-based quartet that saw the release of eight albums. After the band's breakup, Holland pursued a solo career and his own take on what would be folk music to some, Appalachian to others - a melting pot of bluegrass and acoustic guitar-based tunes that came together in 2004 with his debut Bootlegger's Dreams and gained momentum on last year's follow-up Tomorrows American Treasures.

The latter features a combination of six-string strums, banjo picks, fiddle, organ, upright bass, and a mandolin, courtesy of the Chapel Hill outfit known as Big Fat Gap Bluegrass, which assists Holland in bringing into the modern age what Flatt and Scruggs, Charlie Poole, and the Carter Family brought down from the mountain.

Holland cites Miles Davis and his album In a Silent Way as a major influence on his recent material. "[In a Silent Way] was a very cinematic record," he says. "They just played, and [Davis] would take passages that he liked and edit them together. We would play for 10 minutes and roll through all these chord changes, and then I would go back and just pick one little 10-second loop that I thought really summed up the idea or sounded good."

After self-producing both of his solo records, Holland is working with an outside producer for his next album, something he hasn't done since Jennyanykind's 1996 Elektra release Revelater. "I want to move forward with the kind of feel that we went with on Tomorrows American Treasures - which, basically, was no feel. It happened very improvisationally. But I want to hand over the engineering reins to somebody else," he explains.

With 12 tracks already complete (working titles include "I Remember Leslie Riddle" and "Train Called Locomotive Dreams"), Holland is well on his way to completing his third record in as many years. Next month he can be found at the GrassRoots Festival of Music and Dance in Trumansburg, New York (July 20 to 23).





The Favela Blues

He might sing in Portuguese, but the raw emotion and sultry rhythms of Seu Jorge's samba-style pop transcends any cultural divide.

Along with the caipirinha and the film City of God (in which he played Knockout Ned), singer-actor Seu Jorge is the latest Brazilian export to permeate American culture by capturing the pulse of an entire nation into an easily digestible medium - in this case, a 10-song CD. Cru (Wrasse Records), Jorge's American debut, is a cultural earful, steeped in elements of traditional samba and laid out as casually as a balmy Brazilian breeze.

Born into a poor community in Rio de Janeiro, albeit one not as ­poverty-stricken as the slums (known as favelas) portrayed in City of God, the 35-year-old Jorge has escaped the social exile imposed by upper-class Brazilians to become one himself. A self-taught guitarist and actor, Jorge shot to stardom in Brazil when his debut solo album, Samba Esporte Fino (produced by fellow Brazilian and Beastie­ Boys producer­ Mario Caldato), became the country's album of the year in 1999. And then Jorge met Oscar-­nominated director Fernando Meirelles.

Unlike most of the actors in Meirelles's worldwide smash City of God, Jorge had performed in several plays when he was cast as Knockout Ned in the brutally violent, wide-eyed, very real depiction of life in one of Rio's largest favelas. That role led to a gig in The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. In addition to acting in the film, Jorge recorded a handful of Portuguese versions of David Bowie classics for its soundtrack.

Jorge's lyrics, like those of his musical forefathers Milton Nascimento and Gilberto Gil, can run left of center into a political whirlwind colored by the sultry rhythms of samba-style pop, but they do so without campaign hyperbole; the music does most of the talking. Though Jorge sings mostly in Portuguese, Cru does include an English cover of "Don't" (made famous by Elvis ­Presley).

Whether he's singing about his native country's socioeconomic injustices ("Eu Sou Favela") or the lighter subject of love ("Tive Razão"), Jorge makes music a stripped-down affair that transcends language, a raw journey (cru, in fact, means "raw" in Portuguese) into one of the sexiest cultures on the planet, even if the subject matter is anything but. "I call my music the favela blues, where I put together all the emotions of the blues with the reality of life inside a favela," says Jorge.

If the album's opening tropicalia twang - courtesy of the ukulele-like Portuguese cavaquinho - doesn't transport you south faster than you can down another caipi­rinha, something is terribly wrong.





From Russia, With Love

Loopy. Odd. Playful. It must be Regina Spektor. By Suzanne Ely

Moscow-born Regina Spektor has a loopy way with the English language. On the song "On the Radio," from her new album Begin to Hope, Spektor sings: "It feels a little worse/Than when we drove our hearse/Right through that screaming crowd/While laughing up a storm/Until we were just bone/Until it got so warm that none of us could sleep/And all the Styrofoam began to melt away/We tried to find some worms … "

You get the idea. The jaunty song goes on from this peculiar beginning to reference a DJ who has fallen asleep and, inexplicably, the Guns N' Roses song "November Rain."

Spektor has most definitely mastered the art of penning odd lyrical couplets, a skill first made evident on her 2004 album, Soviet Kitsch. She was summarily lumped in with the Fiona Apples and Cat Powerses of the world, which is no slag, but beyond a ferocious creative independence and a feminist sexuality, the comparisons fizzle out.

Spektor grew up in Russia, and she brings a strong international and multigenerational aesthetic to her songs. She was classically trained on the piano and studied Mozart and Chopin, but her father also brought home black-market copies (banned in Soviet-era Russia) of albums by the Beatles, Queen, and the Moody Blues. After moving with her family to the Bronx, Spektor made her way to the cafés of downtown New York City. Coming up through the antifolk scene and nurtured by bands such as the Strokes, Spektor expanded her repertoire with the inclusion of hip-hop and punk influences.

On Spektor's latest album, she has added­ flourishes of electric guitar and drum ­machines to her piano compositions, bearing out her rock and punk persuasions. "Edit" is perhaps the album's most obvious synthesis of classic and current. The song, mixing Spektor's warm voice and ornamental piano passages, has the same choppy and repetitive cadence, skittering beat, and electronic blips as Radiohead's "Everything in Its Right Place."

Alternatively, "Apres Moi" opens with a sweep of melodramatic piano and a Weimar­-era cabaret mood, but there's a Björk-like oddity to Spektor's vocal delivery. She dresses up phrases with hiccups and grunts and draws out a word like yours with an affected bridge-and-tunnel accent. Likewise, on "Better," a vaguely Kelly Clarkson-esque anthem, Spektor repeats the title, and with each pronunciation, the word morphs from something like "bettal," (Russian accent?) to "betta" (New York accent?, and finally "better."

Spektor's dissection of the English language and Dr. Seuss-like playfulness with words are just a few of the oral tricks in the singer's bag. Spektor also utilizes her voice as instrument in a way not heard or accomplished since Björk's groundbreaking album, Medúlla. On the whimsical "Fidelity," Spektor sings: "I hear in my mind all this music/And it breaks my he-ah-ah-ah-ah-heart" - which has the effect of an aural exclamation point.

There is a messiness to the compositions - some thoughts aren't fully formed and words are left unsaid. Some listeners who like their music in genre-specific packages might bristle at this artist's idiosyncrasies. But for the adventurous and open-minded, the trip down Regina Spektor's rabbit hole is a uniquely good time.





Low Maintenance

Forget drama - Secret Machines focuses on the music. By Suzanne Ely

Some rock bands and solo artists thrive on dysfunction and chaos. They possess an uncanny skill for bottling tension, processing it, and releasing it back out into the world, beautifully synthesized into a killer song. This is the realm of a genius like Nirvana's Kurt Cobain.

And then there are the well-adjusted, high-functioning musicians who toil quietly, free of internal drama yet still capable of producing highly nuanced, dynamic, and fresh music. They don't score the tabloid headlines but build a slow burn to success and respect. This is the realm of the Secret Machines, two brothers and a friend who are pleasant, polite, well spoken, and most importantly, talented, as evidenced on their sophomore release, Ten Silver Drops. Forget high drama - bassist/keyboardist/singer Brandon Curtis describes the Secret Machines' songwriting process as no-­nonsense and extraordinarily basic. "We just do what we like to do. We want to spend our time making music. It's not a discipline; it's just how you end up living your life."

The Dallas-bred, New York-based trio tasted their first nibble of success two years ago with the release of their debut album, Now Here Is Nowhere. In an age when album sales are judged like opening night at the megaplex - 50 Cent's The Massacre sells 1.14 million copies in its first week! - the Secret Machines are entirely comfortable with the 100,000 copies that their debut has sold. Not bad for a band whose sound is experimental like the Flaming Lips, psychedelic like Pink Floyd, and rock and roll like Led Zeppelin.

No doubt, in terms of quantity, their success thus far has been modest, but consider that the Secret Machines' debut landed on quite a few critics' year-end top 10 lists and that their fans include legends such as David Bowie, U2, and the Band's Garth Hudson. "It's nice to be recognized," Curtis, 33, admits during a break in filming a video. "But we've never internalized it beyond the notion of it's nice to be noticed."

Forgive this trio if they haven't taken much time to indulge in praise. They've been too busy writing new songs, touring (two years and counting), toiling in the studio, and, most recently, filming an experimental, musically based art film in a small Texas arts community. The Secret Machines are assiduously focused on figuring out how to evolve musically - their main goal is to satisfy their own expectations. Their first album, Curtis explains, "was more of an introduction, a statement to our audience about who we are and what we're about. Once you've attracted everyone's attention, then what do you do? Our intention is to expand the conversation with this record."

Early buzz has been positive, but the group is already adept at shrugging off hype like so much background noise. Curtis sees an upside to such decidedly non-rock-and-roll pragmatism. "One good thing is that we're never going to have to do the artsy record to prove we're musicians, and we're never going to have to worry that we're just pinups. We're making music because we care about it."
Hot New and Upcoming Releases
The Raconteurs, Broken Boy Soldiers (V2/Third Man), May 16

Dr. John, Mercernary: The Songs of Johnny­ Mercer (Blue Note), May 23

The Walkmen, A Hundred Miles Off (Record Collection), May 23

Cheap Trick, Rockford (Cheap Trick Unlimited/Big 3 Records), June 6
< br/>Elvis Costello and Allen Toussaint, The River in Reverse (Verve Forecast), June 6

Frank Sinatra Jr., That Face! (Reprise), June 6

Regina Carter, I’ll Be Seeing You: A Sentimental Journey (Verve), June 13

Keb’ Mo’, Suitcase (Epic/RED), June 13

The Replacements, Don’t You Know
Who I Think I Was?
: The Best of the Replacements (Rhino), June 13

Smokey Robinson, Timeless Love (New Door), June 13
< br/>Sonic Youth, Rather Ripped (Geffen), June 13

The Stills, Without Feathers
(Vice Records), June 13

Widespread Panic, Earth to America (Sanctuary/Widespread Records), June 13

Guster, Ganging Up on the Sun (Reprise), June 20

Keane, Under the Iron Sea (Interscope), June 20

Diana Ross, Blue (Motown/UMe), June 20

Golden Smog, Another Fine Day (Lost Highway), July 18

Los Lonely Boys, title undecided (Epic), July 18

The Lost Trailers, The Lost Trailers (BNA Records), August (exact date TBD)

Sorta, Strange and Sad but True (Summerbreak Records), August 8

The Polyphonic Spree, The Fragile Army (Good Records), late summer/early fall

Future Forecast


Three artists with new releases we’re absolutely fired up about for fall:

The Shins
Bloc Party
Natalie Cole





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ISSUE: Jun 1, 2006
American Way Cover - 6/1/2006