CD reviews

Cass McCombs

Catacombs
(Domino)
*9.3*

Goes well with: Conor Oberst, Elliot Smith, Chad VanGaalen

Is it possible to hear your whole life within a song? Like a lullaby burned into your subconscious, it’s as if you knew it before you even heard it. Yet it hits you so hard and deep that within it you not only hear and see all the things you love about music, but life in general—your mother’s voice, your first love, your son’s first whimpers. You cry openly looking at your watch, wondering how long it’s been since you lived without it.

Yes, Cass McCombs may have made the song of his career (“You Saved My Life”) on what might be the album of his career (Catacombs). For five years and three albums, the Baltimore-based McCombs has been steadily gaining a following for his beautiful voice and amazing orchestration. Supposedly a tribute to his wife, Catacombs might be his most stripped-down release to date, and while some references are easy—Dylan (“My Sister, My Spouse”), Bright Eyes (“Dreams Come True Girl”) and acoustic Neil Young (“Harmonia”)—at its core, it’s a record that you need to take some time with to really appreciate.

Even with all that, his name may still never be uttered in the same sentence as the supposed “new Dylans” like Andrew Bird and Conor Oberst, but it should be. Catacombs is not love at first sight, but it gets under your skin and into your pores until you can’t imagine your world without it.

Danger Mouse & Sparklehorse

Dark Night of the Soul
(Unreleased)
*7.1*

Goes well with: movie soundtracks

Brian Burton, aka Danger Mouse, got to the big dance by fooling the chaperones, and they never forgot. In 2004, Burton’s unauthorized Grey Album landed him on the hot-shit producer list by mashing up Jay-Z and The Beatles. It also pissed off the folks at EMI, and they’ve finally returned the favor by shelving his current project.

Dark Night of the Soul started as a joint venture between past-collaborators Burton and Mark Linkous of Sparklehorse but quickly became something more. A slew of high-profile guest stars were enlisted, and director David Lynch came on board to put together an accompanying book of photography.

The results are mixed. Linkous’ music and Burton’s production shine during collaborations with Julian Casablancas, Jason Lytle, Iggy Pop and Lynch (who knew he could sing?). Yet it’s wasted when Frank Black, Suzanne Vega and James Mercer get the mic. And even though EMI pulled the plug, Burton is counting on the resourcefulness of tech-savvy fans to acquire the 13 tracks.

The now-sold-out book came with a blank CD-R that encouraged fans to “use it as you will,” and the DNOTS website coaxes them to hear the music “by whatever means.” The surrounding controversy only bolsters the buzz of this otherwise serviceable effort. Push, it seems, has come to shove.

Lights

Rites
(Drag City)
*5.5*

Goes well with: MGMT, self-counscious New York bands, future clearance bins

The new album by Brooklyn’s Lights has a few shining moments—the inclusion of melodica or shaker for a few bars, briefly tense guitar lines, even a few interesting transitions. But in spite of Lights’ attempt at going big, the band vacillates between overextending its reach and playing it too safe. Flirting and failing with airy Fleetwood Mac, ’70s funk lines, psych-tinged guitar and pseudo-spiritual melodic numbers, at times Rites sounds more like a retread of any number of recent boring NPR or MTV2-friendly “psych-pop” acts (MGMT, I’m looking at you).Unfortunately, “pseudo” is the key phrase here.

For the most part, Rites feels self-conscious and awkward, too desperate for the attention of its listener. Singer Sophia Knapp’s lack of vocal range is of particular note—she beats her chest on songs like “Hold On” and emits off-key shrieks on “Fire Night”—and when the most upfront presence is also the weakest, the whole thing drags. At times, her voice works well when restrained, such as on the melodic “We Belong,” but on the album’s layered, dynamic musical standout, “War Theme,” Knapp overcompensates, and her lack of vocal strength hurts the song.

The flashes of inspiration and confidence on Rites aren’t enough to buoy an otherwise mediocre album, though its accessibility might warrant a few passive listens from folks who typically expect something better from the record’s label, Drag City, home to Will Oldham and Ghost, among others.