This is Boston . . . not Austin: Pondering Words and Music
It undoubtedly seemed like a good idea to include a second disc of spoken-word
performances on the new This Is Boston . . . Not Austin,
Volume 2 songwriters compilation from Black Wolf/Eastern Front Records. The
thriving local singer/songwriter and poetry-slam scenes are kindred spirits,
sharing some venues and artists, and probably audience members, too. But who
could have guessed that in the disc that amends this follow-up to 1994's first
Boston . . . Not Austin collection, the slam poets
would outscore the song poets at their own game?
In several cases, the slammers boast more melody, rhythm, and color of
expression than their "musical" peers. For example, the richly soaring cadences
of Patricia Smith's spoken verse and Francisco Eduomo's celebrations of pure
language-as-music unintentionally undermine the work of singer/strummer Ellis
Paul by exposing the hollowness at the core of his precious, ethereal song
poems (to say nothing of his own embarrassing turn at spoken-wordism that's
included).
Which isn't to say there's not good music here. The CD would be worthwhile if
only for the auspicious solo debut of Jennifer Kimball, the former other half
of the Story and most recently new folk's back-up vocalist of choice. Kimball's
prodigious vocal talent was never in question. But on the evidence of her
Story-like "An Ordinary Soldier" -- a gorgeously restrained bit of fury over
abandonment and loss -- her strength as a songwriter will rescue her from the
ignominious fate of being considered merely an Art Garfunkel to Jonatha
Brooke's Paul Simon.
The standout tracks are nearly all by women, reflecting a genre-wide trend.
Faith Soloway's "She Just Works There" is a catchy, dynamically explosive bit
of Ani DiFranco-like grrrl folk. Maria Sangiolo mines the dark underbelly of
addiction on the deceptively conventional folk-rocker "No Love." Ellen Cross
and Jess Klein also turn in intimate solo performances.
Included are a few songwriters whose work might otherwise be overlooked by
those who (to their detriment) toe a rigorous line when it comes to what's
"folk" music. Laurie Geltman (ex-Vasco da Gama), Dennis Brennan, and Joel Cage
are veterans of the Boston bar-band scene, but Geltman and Brennan in
particular are likely to get a closer hearing from folkie types on the merits
of their gutsy vocals and lyrics.
The rest is a mixed bag, including a morsel of the Push Stars' mushy soft
rock; more whiny, self-righteous blather from Ellis Paul; and a throwaway by
the ordinarily impressive Vance Gilbert. But don't miss Peter Mulvey's "Out
Here," a brooding bit about living in the boonies that could well be the credo
of the Unabomber.
-- Seth Rogovoy