New Music Tuesday Review: Elizabeth Shepherd, Heavy Falls the Night
ELIZABETH SHEPHERD
Heavy Falls the Night
Elizabeth Shepherd manages to make music that’s eminently listenable without ever verging into easy-listening territory. Mixing pop sensibility in with strong jazz roots often leads to that land of watered-down sound, but Shepherd’s latest takes us along for the ride to a new, undiscovered country. Album opener “What Else” starts out percussive and bright, giving way to smooth vocal bridges. Title track “Heavy Falls the Night,” with it’s thrumming double bass, is a showcase for Shepherd’s vocal prowess—her voice is equally sure in a throaty, low register as it is scatting octaves higher. “High” loops vocals over electronics and compelling electric guitar, ending with Shepherd’s spritely piano. And then there’s her slowed-down, fresh take on the Anne Murray classic “Danny’s Song.” When she sings, “Even though we ain’t got money/I’m so in love with you honey,” it feels like the first time you ever heard that easy rhyme. The record is eclectic but completely cohesive. Spring’s arriving early in Winnipeg, and despite the title, this record is a perfect accompaniment for any and all seasonally-induced exuberance. Mark your calendars: Elizabeth Shepherd rolls into our town on Wednesday, May 26 at the Park Theatre. (Do Right Music, www.dorightmusic.com) Jenny Henkelman
Three years was maybe a little too long for one of Montreal’s grandest rock bands to follow up their magnificent 
Released right around Halloweentime, Dead Man’s Bones could be considered gimmicky if it wasn’t so unexpectedly good. Celebrity heartthrob Ryan Gosling and filmmaker Zach Shields manage to combine all the right elements of vintage spooky sounds, raw indie cabaret tunes and the charm of an elementary school play. Featuring the Silverlake Conservatory of Music children’s choir, Gosling and Shields guide the kids through songs about ghosts, werewolves and losing one’s soul. The album often fringes on creepy macabre material with standout tracks like “My Body’s a Zombie for You.” While it might be easily dismissed as a quirky for the sake of being quirky it often strikes the right balance of creative atmosphere and rawness that is lacking in most, if not all, actor-turned-musician celebrity projects. (Yes, I’m talking to you, ScarJo.) Whether it’s the rumblings of out-of-tune children or actors not being able to play their instruments, this project has managed to summon the perfect balance of morbid allure and resourceful conception. (Anti, 
Over the course of their career, California’s Port O’Brien has pretty much held the same steady course, producing similarly sweet sing-alongs riding on rickety arrangements, unpolished vocals, and campfire aesthetics. On their latest LP, Threadbare, the trio takes a very familiar, if-it-ain’t-broke approach to their songwriting. They only occasionally include some autumnal, Arcade Fire-esque orchestration, but they generally maintain their established formula. Somber, fleeting numbers like “In the Meantime” and “(((Darkness Visible)))” roll at the same quarter-speed pacing you’ve come to expect from a band like this, meditating on themes of loss and mortality—no doubt a result of vocalist Cambria Goodwin’s brother passing away early last year. To that end, Goodwin is far more of a presence across Threadbare, taking on almost half of the lead vocal duty. It’s a nice touch, bringing a diversity to the arrangements that previous releases have been lacking. She manages to pull the album away from what could potentially be clunky, endlessly downtrodden material. However, diversity is something that Threadbare is sorely missing. After the fifth dense, slowly-strummed track, it’s obvious that there is no “I Woke Up Today” to be found here. The only reprieve is the punchy “Leap Year,” the one truly upbeat song out of 13. The uninterrupted slow tread of the album makes it easy for monotony to set in early. Threadbare is more cohesive, thematically and sonically, than the band’s previous efforts, but it’s missing the energetic optimism they’ve had in the past. (TBD, 
Although they are just beginning to establish themselves, local act Cocktail Hostages have found a niche in the already-crowded hard rock scene. Their Ransom EP features tracks more reminiscent of the glory days of dark, brooding grunge than the rise of the Nickelback and their doppelgangers. The EP starts with “Crawl,” a catchy, power chord-heavy hard rock number before settling into a couple steady atmospheric tracks. “In the Woods” is more appealing than the lead-off cut, with frontman Roger Moufiler’s deep voice circling around Eastern-sounding guitar riffs. The final track is the EP’s strongest. No one can deny the hypnotic power and ominous charm of “Midnight City,” pulsating towards the disc’s fiery conclusion. (Independent, 
When Basia Bulat released her first full-length, Oh, My Darling, in 2007, it was quite under the radar. Sure, it was released on legendary UK label Rough Trade and later on Hayden’s Hardwood Records in Canada, but it was unassuming (not unlike Bulat herself). It had, after all, been recorded primarily to serve as a souvenir of a moment in time—a record of the music being made among a small group of friends and family. The intervening years have brought a Polaris Prize nomination, trips around the folk festival circuit and lots of attention for this appealing singer-songwriter, who was transformed from English Literature grad student to indie folk darling. You’ll be pleased to learn, as I was, that Bulat has lost none of her charm with Heart of My Own. Her music is still deceptively delicate at times, building into crescendos of emotion and sound. The record has a more old-school folk feeling, with the autoharp front and centre on tracks like “The Shore” and “If It Rains.” The poetry of her lyrics is still straightforward enough to be accessible but not too simple as to descend into cliché. In short: this record affirms that the faith we placed in her, after falling in love with her debut release and her live performances, was well-given. (Secret City Records, 
Stockholm, Sweden is one of those cool and clean northern European cities that devote themselves to being cosmopolitan yet steeped in history. The Rockridge Brothers—Pontus, Peter, Ralf and Kristian—absolutely have got to be bluegrassiest band in all of Stockholm, and maybe even all of Sweden. The fact that these young fellers have glommed on to a fairly regionalized, American musical form is as admirable as it is abstract. From the fiddle-infested opening track “Rocky Island,” you know these guys are serious. Rockridge Hollerin’ is dyed-in-the-wool, down-home mountain music that finds men in matching black suits hunkered around a single microphone creating rootsy magic. Most of the tracks are pretty obscure covers and if you consider yourself an in-the-flesh, acoustic bluegrass music disciple, this album will get you to a-reelin’ and a-rockin’ mighty quick. Seventeen tracks, no waiting. (Red Rocking Records, 
On her fifth album (and her first for K Records), the wonderful Tara Jane O’Neil gives further proof that she’s no ordinary singer-songwriter. Consciously soaked in reverb (the album fittingly closes with a song called “The Drowning Electric”), the tracks that make up A Ways Away are melancholic and spacious, meticulously arranged and completely absorbing. O’Neil has once again hit upon a beautiful balance of style and substance. A Ways Away’s 36 minutes of introspective haze, accented by delicate guitarwork and a slew of guests (including notables like Mirah, Osa Atoe and Ida), seems too short. With an album this good, it’s hard to pick out standout tracks. “Drowning” is a haunting song of loss, propelled forward with sparse rhythm and a sweeping electric bridge that falls like a curtain across the chorus. The aching “Howl” might have been the album’s centerpiece, had it not first appeared on 2004’s You Sound, Reflect; regardless, O’Neil gives it new life here, adding rhythm, strings, and stirring vocals. “Dig In,” the lead-off track, skates over the clatter of sleigh-bells, with O’Neil’s guitarlines escaping and returning to the song’s root chord again and again (later, “Pearl Into Sand” circles back and picks up the same theme). Her songs may be simple and familiar, but the reassuring A Ways Away sounds about as good as coming in from the cold. (K Records, 
Austin, Texas-based roots rockers Reckless Kelly are performing songs by American singer/songwriter/relative-unknown Pinto Bennett, and doing a bang-up job. This album of a dozen honky-tonk, country carousers and moon-burned shuffles is likely going to be one of the more highly regarded albums of 2010, and it may even get the obscure Bennett a few more fans. Like a cross between Joe Ely and Billy Joe Shaver, Bennett writes songs about those that plug away through life’s emotional highs and lows to cut loose at some local watering hole on Saturday night. The album leads off with a couple of attention-getting rockers which set a tone that is immediately switched to the classic country sounds of “Bird on a Wire,” “I Hold the Bottle, You Hold the Wheel,” and the fiddle and steel driven “I’ve Done Everything I Could Do Wrong.” You’ll find it difficult to get this out of your head, and your music player… it’s just that good. Both Joe Ely and Pinto Bennett guest, making Somewhere in Time pretty much a modern classic of the form. (Yep Roc, 
My, my. What a fantastic album. Yeah, flipping through CDs you might think it looks absolutely retarded, with its long-ass title and pencil-crayoned wrestling figures of decades past. What could it be? Field recordings of a special-ed music class pressed up for door-to-door fundraising? As cool as that would’ve been, you get something even cooler if you pick this album up. The Beets play pop music. Kinda like the Beatles. Yeah, those Beatles. The songs are catchy as hell and they all sing together. Yeah, they might sound a little drunk, but at least they’re in tune. From the start, the combination of the gang vocals and the simple, repeated melodies catch on and you’ll. And holy reverb—the Beets sound like they were recorded at the bottom of a giant plastic bucket. The Beets are like a mulch of Sic Alps/Galaxie 500/Beach Boys (yum!), some of the better stuff that’s coming out of this nouveau lo-fi movement. (Captured Tracks, 
