Audio By Carbonatix
Bruce Springsteen
Working on a Dream
Columbia
Reviews for Springsteen’s latest tend toward extremes, with most critics declaring it to be either a work of absolute genius or an exercise in vapidity whose lyrics could use a major infusion of seriositude. The confusion is understandable. After all, Working on a Dream is a scattershot effort that juxtaposes some mighty fine material with a handful of amusingly loony whiffs.
Exemplifying the latter is “Outlaw Pete,” the eight-minute-plus opener,
which stands as a self-conscious throwback to early epics.
Unfortunately, its melody can’t support its wide-screen ambitions (and
not just because of its resemblance to, of all things, KISS’ “I Was
Made For Lovin’ You”), and Springsteen’s delivery lacks the lively wit
required by lines like, “At six months old, he’d done three months in
jail.” Likewise, “Queen of the Supermarket” yokes a small-scale tale of
unrequited romance to an arrangement that would have to be dialed down
to be considered overwrought. Not exactly a blue-light special.
In contrast, a handful of tunes placed deeper into the recording recall the best material on 2007’s Magic,
the album that truly marked the return of the Boss’ mojo – among them
the casually anthemic title track, the sunshine-pop ditty “This Life,”
the richly evocative “Life Itself” and the open-hearted “Kingdom of
Days.” As for “Surprise, Surprise,” it’s an enjoyable hook-fest that
would have seemed more unexpected had Springsteen not visited this
territory so recently.
When viewed as a whole, these tracks
represent a more upbeat Bruce than usual – but not for long. The album
ends with “The Last Carnival,” a heavy-handed elegy for E-Street Band
organist Danny Federici, who died last year, and the theme song to The Wrestler, which isn’t exactly a feel-good number, either.
These
disparate parts couldn’t possibly fit together seamlessly, so it’s no
surprise that they don’t. Still, even the least of the songs has
something to recommend it. At an age when most rockers have long since
stopped trying as hard as they once did, Springsteen is still aiming
for transcendence, and occasionally even achieving it. That may not
constitute a dream come true, but he’s working on it.
Charlie Louvin
Sings Murder Ballads and Disaster Songs
Tompkins Square
The more stable half of the Louvin Brothers, among the greatest (and
most unusual) harmony acts in country-music history, Charlie Louvin
returned to the spotlight after a long absence with a self-titled 2007
offering featuring loads o’ guest stars: Jeff Tweedy, Elvis Costello,
George Jones, etc. His latest album is a more solitary effort, even
though it’s got a sibling; it was released around the same time as
Steps to Heaven, which spotlights assorted gospel and sacred numbers.
The latter is lovely and heartfelt, thanks largely to Louvin’s simple,
scratchy voiced renditions. Even so, Murder Ballads makes more of an
impact, and no wonder given all the death on display, be it the natural
kind (“My Texas Girl”) or the sort caused by accidental catastrophe
(“Wreck of the Old 97”). Heavenly visions are wonderful, but in this
case, let there be blood.
John Shannon
American Mystic
Obliq Sound
Singer-songwriter Shannon is the subtlest of performers. His gentle
vocals and delicate guitar picking can make the late Nick Drake seem
like Ted Nugent in comparison. Yet compositions such as “Forgiveness”
and “Somewhere” manage to cut through the clutter anyhow thanks to an
emotional commitment that’s both utterly unguarded and manifestly
brave. Those coming to the recording expecting to be bowled over are
apt to be disappointed, since Shannon’s artistry doesn’t aggressively
impose itself on a listener. Instead, his music figuratively opens
itself up and asks anyone who’s interested to lend an ear. Do yourself
a favor and accept this invitation.
