|
Mr. Smolin, best
known in the jam music nether sphere as Barry Smolin, imaginary friend and
Jammy-winning host of one of the longest running psychedelic radio programs "The Music Never Stops," steps out from behind the
DJ desk for his debut solo recording At Apogee. He brings with
him a star-studded cast of L.A. indie rock heavyweights, most notably nouveau
spookajazzabilly freaks Double Naught Spy Car, members of head
Beach Boy
Brian Wilson's latest orchestra, critically worshipped cult faves The Negro Problem, and their main man Mark
"Stew" Stewart.
Now... I was intrigued by this record mostly because it isn't often that a person
normally known as a "Radio DJ" releases an original music CD, much less a DJ
known for introducing tens of thousands of hungry freaks to the hardest hitting
jam music week after week for the last umpteen years. Naturally one would think
that At Apogee would contain some bits and pieces of the jam puzzle in it.
Wrong.
Well maybe... "Rodeo," a country-highlife throw down, features some truly ripping
guitar work by Paul Lacques (Double Naught Spy Car), and "Way Back In" is a
windswept, supremely acidic garage meltdown courtesy of Ruby Flux's
Harvey Canter. But other than that At Apogee strays more toward the
poignant
"Stella Blue" area of psychedelia than the thumping beat sort. Regardless of your
preference, At Apogee traverses complex emotional areas using Smolin's
indescribable command of the English language as well as some delightful mood
lighting inherent in the production.
Produced by indie pop genius Stew (The Negro Problem) At Apogee's 12
tracks
ripple with Stewish arrangements, ever so lush and expansive. "Bah bah
bah's" and "oooh ooooooh" background vocal arrangements cascade behind stolen
baroque trumpet
flourishes, Stew's own husky booming baritone, and the sexy vocal
delicacy of Stew's real life getaway driver and musical crime partner, Heidi
Rodewald. Lush organs, sparkling pianos, ethereal string samples, vibrophonic
guitars, ragtimey pomp, and faux-harpsichord fingerpicking dress Smolin's
"singing over your shoulder" vocals while outlining the arching dramatic curves of
these seven-minute pop-cabaret symphonettes.
But the show here is really all Smolin's. Effortlessly rotating guests and mini-
ensembles with the same aplomb he uses segueing Bisco bombasts to
moe.ronic meltdown or rare wack 60s wax to dankest of Dead DATs over Southern
California airwaves, Mr. Smolin delivers a delicious psychologicadelic journey
through chamber pop, Appalachian afrobeat, spooky
Sondheim-meets-Mahler-Gilmour-and-Waters dirges, Byrds/Beatles summertime
jangles, quasi-Broadway
Bowie crooning, acid tinged r&b slow jams and other genre-blending
subspecies...
all wrapped fastidiously in a lexicon of asymmetrical puns, heartfelt monologues,
James Joyce meets Robert Hunter wordplay, and tricky multi-layered narrative
imagery. (Having a dictionary at hand during investigation of At Apogee's
lyric insert
would probably be helpful.)
I probably wouldn't recommend this to a random roll-munching techno-bopper, but I
would recommend it to anyone who has a hard time answering the question "What
kind of music do you listen to?"
Craig Judkins
JamBase | Europe
Go See Live Music!
|
