It’s always hard to know what music is supposed to do. Some cite its necessary expletive factor, as in, “Dang, that’s good.” Others think it should elicit some sort of action, be it setting cars on fire or just dancing until you drop. All of the above works for me, because the real beauty of music is that it can do so many things for not a whole lot of money.
“Until Death Comes,” Frida Hyvonen (Secretly Canadian)
This is a melodic, raunchy, gracefully graceless bit of joy that will make every Tori Amos fan organize a CD bonfire. Who needs that stuff now that Frida’s here. It’s piano and voice, but so much more. If Hyvonen were a rapper, she’d have some serious, serious flow. Her soprano is part of the music rather than a go-with, a voice that alternates between pretty and just on the pretty side of tuneless. And man, that piano playing — elegant and all tinkly, like Jerry Lee Lewis rocking on a toy piano.
“Make It Easy on Yourself,” Burt Bacharach (A&M)
Go ahead. Laugh. Now listen to the buoyant, catchy bombast of “Promises, Promises” and tell me the man wasn’t a deity. Elvis Costello thought so. Too bad his joint venture was barely listenable. This mostly instrumental disc is style, grace and hooks, an orgy of pop craftsmanship. And the master himself sings — cracked and vulnerable-sounding — on the disc’s title track. And check out that irresistible, delicate little Latinate melody that closes “Knowing When To Leave.” Wow.
“Chemically Imbalanced,” Ying Yang Twins (TVT)
For the record, this record is silly, stupid, obscene. But these boys — D-Roc and Kaine — surf their monstrous beats like geniuses, daring your head to keep from bobbing. The Twins’ rap is laid-back and sleek, smooth and reveling in its immense beat. Ain’t nobody crunker than us, the Twins boast, and for the moment, they’re right. King of Crunk Lil’ Jon dragged the Ying Yangers to fame on his rhinestone-encrusted coattails. Now that the lads have arrived, let’s have fun.
“Tender Moments,” McCoy Tyner (Blue Note)
Monster, truly monster. McCoy Tyner is a pianistic Godzilla, stomping on the terra with a band that not only keeps up but serves as a goad. Check out those blasts from his brass section that opens “Mode To John,” as Lee Morgan’s distinctive tone shines through. And Tyner’s solo — his typical dense, thoughtful clusters of notes — soars majestically, until shoved aside by Morgan. There’s nothing at all tender about this hard bop throwdown.
“The Sea Anemone Inside of Me Is Mighty,” Ferocious Eagle (Fifty Four Or Fight)
Indie rock is difficult to define until you hear this record’s amalgam of influences, assembled crazy-quilt style. Big, boisterous metal drumbeats share space with thumping, rhythmic bass. Vocals — often unison — are another rhythm instrument, and of course there are lots of crazy tempo changes, because what would indie rock be without that? Were the Eagle a little cooler, they’d almost certainly be a Chicago band, sharing a bill with some of this city’s other caustic, oddball rhythmmakers. But Ferocious Eagle is from Portland, Ore. Make what you will of that.
“Salad Days,” Cheer-Accident (Skin Graft)
See? Cheer-Accident is a Chicago band, one still plying its trade in a way that always makes you wonder if its members are kidding. This disc’s title track, a more than 18-minute-long dissection of rock music, has a tongue-in-cheek groove and a decidedly retro flavor. This could have come from some ’80s prog-rock band with a name such as Transition, but it sure is fun. Give a closer listen to this little gem from 2000 to marvel at its use of brass and contrapuntal rhythms. Then bow down.
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kmwilliams@tribune.com
