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T O P I C R E V I E W
Ten Percenter
Posted - 07/16/2005 : 23:59:51 Two reviews in the Observer today, although the second one in the Music magazine is unbelievably short. Still, the review section features a good review:
Frank Black Honeycomb (Cooking Vinyl) On the eve of the Pixies' reunion tour last year, Charles Thompson (aka the Pixies' Black Francis, known in recent years as Frank Black) pitched up in Nashville and recorded his 10th album since the demise of the Pixies, with an illustrious set of country soul session musicians. None of the Muscle Shoals, Stax and American Studios old-timers knew or cared who he was. They finished the record in under a week. Soul music is often the last refuge of the woebegone and Nashville, the last refuge of the rock musician looking for some substance. But neither truism applies here; both are too pat to encompass this record's unhurried pleasantness and its author's mindset.
The Nashville studio atmosphere would have been in sharp contrast to that of the impending Pixies tour. Although the reunion of (arguably) the most esteemed band in indie-dom would be a runaway success, the Pixies were having to grit their teeth in each others' company, as the unresolved tensions of their split resurfaced.
Thompson, meanwhile, had arrived not so much at a turning point as a spaghetti junction. His latest backing band, the Catholics, had dissolved after half-a-dozen well-received but sluggishly selling albums. Thompson's divorce had come through. He'd just moved from Los Angeles to Portland, Oregon; his stuff was in storage.
One of the key songs here, 'My Life Is in Storage', opens with this swift update: 'I had a castle/ I had no hassles/ Now tears are tassels'.
But Honeycomb is not, as you might expect, the sound of an ageing alt rock guitar demigod using country music to mitigate his damage. It's more complicated and thoughtful than that, although love and loss are well-represented.
This is easily Thompson's prettiest-sounding record, enjoying the combined forces of engineer Dan Penn, guitarists Steve Cropper, Buddy Miller and Reggie Young, organist Spooner Oldham, bassist David Hood and percussionists Chester Thompson, Anton Fig, Billy Block and Akil Thompson.
If anything, Thompson sounds a bit awed by these lifer musicians, a little deferential as he tells his stories. But with this awe comes a sense of ease, even when Thompson dredges up his emotional muck.
Indeed, Black has refined his solo output to a new level of gentle restraint, aided by the burnished playing of his borrowed band. His drunkard's lament, 'Another Velvet Nightmare' ('Today, I felt my heart slide into my belly/ So I puked it up with liquor and slept right where I lay') is the gory exception.
This being Thompson, there are some weird moments breaking up the warm back porch mood that otherwise might settle. The title track is uneasy, with the superb group of lifelong musicians taking on Thompson's queasy, reedy voice. The surrealism that Thompson mined so electrically in the Pixies flashes on and off. 'Selkie Bride' sees Thompson's narrator wedding a seal-woman 'from the bottom of the sea'.
There are wolves and tarot cards and plenty of rattling, especially on 'Go Find Your Saint', which is a Pixies song by way of Bob Dylan. The Dylan echoes are no accident: Honeycomb's informal working title was 'Black on Blonde', a reference to Dylan's Blonde on Blonde, recorded in similar musical circumstances. The influence of Leonard Cohen also looms large.
This being Nashville, there are covers. Thompson will never be a soul singer, but hearing a man best known for screaming and barking attempt the poignant poses on 'Dark End of the Street' (written by Penn) is heartwarming. Most revelatory is the excellent Doug Sahm's 'Sunday Sunny Mill Valley Groove Day', where Thompson's voice sounds most at home. 'You're the king of what you survive,' he beams.
The contrast between Honeycomb and the Pixies's live tour souvenir albums that followed couldn't be greater. Their comeback was a success, but Honeycomb proves that Thompson isn't living on past glories alone.
Review number 2: You know how he can holler? This is a shockingly mellow record, recorded in Nashville between dates with the reformed Pixies, and, of course, it's lovely.
"Fried food, cigarettes, no exercise, chest pain..." (Excerpt from the Angina Monologues)
1 L A T E S T R E P L I E S (Newest First)
Carl
Posted - 07/17/2005 : 16:23:14 Yeah, it barely gets described in review 2!