Straight down the middle of the road, Danie Syre plants her musical feet in a solid country/pop/blues tradition. Think Crystal Gayle pop influenced by a hint of Neil Young folksiness. In all respects—songwriting, arrangement, performance and production—this record reflects a safe, comfortable, easy-going approach. There is nothing punchy or in-your-face here, very little quirky, cosmic or sublime. From its competent medium-sized town studio musician backup band to Ms. Syre’s overtly pleasant, somewhat lounge style lead vocals, do not look for any edgy innovation or adventurous creative risk captured herein. Put this on when you need a relaxing sonic background to your lazy afternoon hangin’ around the house.

Some suggestions that may better optimize this work start with pushing for more stretch and artistic statement in the basic songwriting. Musically, every piece is decidedly derivative, almost never reaching for the unabashed passion of high level, tough-to-control emotion that makes up the majority of world class musical magic. The recording mix and overall production are fine for a demo, but too disjointed and lackluster to qualify as a world release product. A finer ear for the overall mix and, across the board, perhaps a dryer treatment, higher volume and increased compression would benefit all vocals.

Let’s take a ride through each track:

1. Something Real … This is the rocker. Actually a standard stock soft rocker, but as heavy as we get on this CD. Its great lyrical message makes valuable suggestion to its apparently disconnected recipient, who may benefit to heed the advice. Decent Steve Earle-ish vibe and groove, minus the ragged passion.

1. Daydreams ..: A sweet and gentle but bland country steel-styled Margaritaville, with a touch of pathos due to one particular chord change. Sharper production vision might really make this one shine. Perhaps the most soulful expression here, but please tune up the steel more, and put the vocal on top.

1. Little Kiss … The first of the tiptoe shuffles. Everyone’s having fun as sexy intent arrives strong and clear in the lyric of romantic contrast. Wide variety of overly busy instrumental accompanists. Please put the vocal on top.

1. You Set Me Free … A strong nod to Neil Young’s Helpless and Dylan’s Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door. Soft and swooning, we are tenderly and skillfully carried in a grateful spirit.

1. Rose … finally, finally puts Danie’s pretty voice up above it all, where it belongs—clear, consistent and intelligible, somewhat due to sparse production. A sincere introspection into a highly desired but confusingly denied special relationship.

1. Time For the Truth … Uh-oh, lead vocal is stuck in murky back again. Oh well, can’t argue with the message here, similar to Track-1. Clever but loud bass solo intro and outro, with guitar borrowings from James Taylor’s Fire and Rain.

1. Baby, Maybe … A gently rockin’ bluesy sexy shuffle. Again, the lead vocal volume.

1. My Way … Sad and slow, piano and violin plus vocal. Relationship reflected in a highly introspective psychology.

1. Campfire Song … definitely starts that way, with a strumming guitar. Enter lighthearted shuffle infused with happy memories of past young fun, all done with a strong sense of old-fashioned glass-raising.

1. Fools … Serious ballad, again self-questioning. Piano and harmonica accompaniment.

1. Simple Soul … Shuffle me home again. Good gosh, bring up that lead vocal, man! A bit of campy Winchester Cathedral feel bops along nicely and lightly in bonafide fun.

1. Martin .. closes out in the characteristic shuffle rhythm. This love song to a guitar is straight ahead blues with harmonica and, of course, “Martin” sounding off in the great tone that inspires a lyric like this.

Review by Mike Ososki

Mike Ososki, Reviews Danie Syre, Time for the Truth

Having only released two albums, Canadian singer/songwriter Danie Syre already sounds like she has had a lifetime of writing and recording behind her. And with her newest release of Time For the Truth, she is sure to gain a lot of followers.

Like many other singer/songwriters, Danie Syre takes experiences in her life and lets them influence her writing. Time For the Truth, the second release of Danie Syre, was written during a time when she was going through some heartache, having lost her mother and going through a separation with her husband just before recording the album. Instead of letting these things drag her down, Syre used these and other events as subjects for songs for the new album. Danie even wrote the song “Martin” around a guitar given to her by her father who died after the completion of Syre’s first album of The Journey.

Time For the Truth begins with “Something Real”, a song about going through a relationship that isn’t perfect. This song is followed by “Daydream”, about starting a new relationship. These songs are the perfect way to begin the album, as they give the listener just a taste of the style of writing from Danie Syre.

“Little Kiss” is the next song on the album. With this song, Syre kicks up the energy level on the release. The upbeat song is about giving a relationship a chance, even if the relationship seems to be based around two opposite personalities being attracted to each other.  One of the strongest tracks on the release is the title track of “Time For the Truth,” written after the death of her estranged mother. The song is like someone finally saying what was in her heart that she never was able to say before.  “Baby Maybe” helps bring the energy level back up after the somber message of the title track. The song is about living in the moment and allowing things to happen, as they will.  As with many folk/folk-rock albums, Time For the Truth alternates between songs that have an easy feel and those with a rockier nature, and when the fiddle is added to the music, those tunes have a slight Celtic feel to them.

A lot of things have happened to Danie Syre over the years that have developed her writing style. The resulting songs on her second release of Time For the Truth sound very professional. This writing style will only get better with time.  As she is a guitarist as well as a singer-songwriter, the songs on this album were partially shaped with the help of her guitar. The songs were completed with the help of many talented musicians, and those on this long list deserve credit for helping to shape that sound and style.

The dozen songs on Time for the Truth are all easy to listen to and are varied enough to keep the listener’s attention. For only a second release, Danie Syre seems to already have found the formula for success; only time will tell.

Review by Matheson Kamin

Matheson Kamin, Reviews Danie Syre, Time for the Truth

When I listened to this record for the very first time and Danie Syre chimed in on the first track, “Something Real”, I immediately thought of Margo Timmins from one of my favorite Canadian bands, Cowboy Junkies, with a hint of twang. Ms. Syre’s voice is as smooth as freshly laundered flannel sheets. I say flannel because flannel is warm and comfortable especially when it’s freshly laundered. This record is very warm and comfortable in the end, but first it takes the listener through an array of emotions, mostly surrounding abandonment and broken relationships.

For instance, the title cut “Time for the Truth”, written after the break-up of her fourteen-year marriage, is a song about love and eventually the evaporation of the love, which once brought the two of them together. She sings the song with an enormous amount of emotion. She articulates every word in such a manner you know she truly means what she is singing. “And its time for the truth/This time I’ve nothin’ to lose/And its time for the truth/And this time I’ve been waitin’ for you” It’s not a hateful song really. It’s more about closure and eventually about being able to move on with her life, which she has apparently done, as evidenced by the release of this set of eleven original tunes.

Track five on this record is a tune called “Rose”. Ms. Syre didn’t know her mother very well and, in fact, had been raised almost exclusively by her father. Later on there were twelve years where Danie and her mother did not speak at all. In 2008 when she heard the news that her estranged mother had passed away, “Rose” was born. It’s a song full of questions that we always wanted to ask but never had the chance. Now the answers to the questions are all gone and there is no possible way to retrieve them. Therefore, she has been left to develop her own answers, which will eventually lead her to forgiveness and ultimately healing. “What were you running for/Who were you running against/I just don’t know/Would you say it was all left to fate/Or was it a script of a role you had to play/If I had written our story/I’d be sure to  make it happy/I would have written it that way. “Rose” is a beautiful song and is performed to perfection. The wailing of the pedal steel guitar, beautifully played by Nathan Carroll, resides in the background eloquently representing the tears that go with the song.

The tunes on this record were conjured up with a large dose of heart, pain, suffering, and eventually fond memories (“Campfire Song”) with a dash of comedy (“Simple Fool”) that brings us some relief from the pain.

In her bio, she tells of her father being the biggest influence in her life in many ways, but especially in the evolution of her musical journey. He was a guitarist and there would be many a day where friends and family would come over. They would sit and play together for hours. Many of these friends and family members were excellent musicians themselves, so her almost constant exposure to the arts helped her to form into the talented musician she is today. The material for her first record, The Journey, released in 2007, came to her while caring for her ailing father, to whom she dedicated the album.

When her father passed, Ms. Syre was left with his Martin guitar he loved so much. This inspired her to write “Martin”, a cool little blues song written out of the love and adoration she possessed for her father and his guitar. Even though the song is called “Martin”, I’m not sure her father didn’t play a huge role in the creation of this song, which by the way, happens to be my favorite tune on the record with “Simple Fool” a close second.

Ms. Syre wrote all the songs on this record plus sang and played guitar. In addition, she was accompanied by a small army of musicians; Nathan Carroll played lead, acoustic, and pedal steel guitars, Darcy Johnstone played bass, Joey McIntyre on drums, Jason Kodie on the piano, accordion, and the Hammond, Shannon Johnson on violin, Scott Peters on the mandolin, Chris Wynters on guitar, Krispian Smidt-Paborn on harmonica, and Kjierstin Hubka sang background vocals.

This record is quite dramatic in many ways, born from many different emotions. The death of her father, the estrangement and eventual death of her mother, the end of her own marriage, all of which has come together to create the vision she would need to write the material for this sophomore effort. The emotions that went into the creation of the material transcend into her performance as well.

Danie Syre is certainly an artist I will keep my ear very close to the ground for, listening for more to come. If she can keep writing material as strong as the eleven songs on this record, she should have a very bright future ahead.

Review by Rod Ames

Reviews, Rod Ames Danie Syre, Time for the Truth

When most people hear the name Michael Lee mentioned in the music industry, they first think of the legendary drummer whom played for such greats as The Cult, Echo & the Bunnymen and most notably Robert Plant’s and Jimmy Page’s answer to a finally fallen Led Zepplin.  This is not that Michael Lee, may he rest in peace, but a new artist from Buckinghamshire (both hailing from the United Kingdom, respectively) with a new record, Face Forward, a fierce alternative rock album with ambient sensibility and star quality performances.

Every song on Face Forward is remarkably consistent, an impeccable studio album with Michael Lee himself playing 10 instruments including vocals.  All of the artists in Lee’s entourage have an incredible sense of dynamic control perhaps best displayed in the album’s namesake song “Face Forward,” – an instrumental, of all things!  Progressive layers of sound build with Lee –also on drums- into something more on par with rock opera. Imagine a much more mellow, chill Queen and you have Michael Lee’s epic album, yet they are multi-inspired and definitely developing their own unique style.  The guitar and vocals are unmistakably some sort of alien homage to Jeff Buckley, though Michael Lee is more consistent perhaps and less on the experimental side.  Their inspiration is as though they were picking up right where Jeff tragically left off.  Hopefully there is room in live performances to seek out such innovative music, but there is almost something too neat and clean about Face Forward, that has more pop sensibility then alternative creativity.  While well suited to the production studio and the radio, one must question the playability live.

“Despite” has a nice bluesy sound, but Lee fails to fully resolute many of the minor notes, usually nice and dirty, occasionally turns pitchy when the verse builds; by the chorus everything is perfect again.  One desires to hear the pain and struggle in those notes more, reaching more into an alternative soul that understands these songs shouldn’t only be about personal suffering, but the resonance of that pattern where ever one might travel this world with music.  The musician is essentially lucky in that they are only singing about the pain, and usually not directly experiencing it, though Face Forward has its moments of real empathic caring, it is questionable how much of this is metaphor and how much has really been lived through by the artist(s).

Face Forward is a powerful album with plenty of songs that are all at once comforting to the soul, refreshing to one’s musical senses, and full of glorious alternative fuzzy guitar goodness.   There are multiple tracks here that deserve to be singles, such as “Trust” or “In The Picture” having choruses good enough to stick in your mind and cheer up your day, or ease that aching heart; whereas the instrumentals and verses are complex enough to listen to the album many times through, discovering little guitar echoes fading to trippy keys or wonderful chorus harmonies that perfectly support Michael Lee.  This is what producers are talking about when a musician can both perform and cut a perfect studio album:  Michael Lee has “starpower” or that “wow-factor,” if you will, as a producer and the ability to back it up with a full-blown live concert tour.  But in order to do so he will have to be humble, and surround himself with many talented artists in order to compensate for the massive about of studio work he now takes on mostly single-handedly.  This American writer will be hoping they get enough homeland support to cross the pond and give our bars, clubs and stadiums a go!  The only real negative critique one can think of is confidence:  they have all the right ingredients to be super-stars, now they just have to want it and show the fans that they need it.  See a little of the world, write some more songs about why the love ballads like “Distant Future” are important.  What love is worth protecting from all these problems we face?  Perhaps even a name change would be appropriate, or a side-project where Lee’s creative energy is forced to synergize more with other artists whom have experiences that would add to Michael Lee’s lyrical perspective and instrumental experimentation.   Face Forward is technically impeccable, but so perfectionist and self-indulgent that one misses the grunge or perhaps punk aspects inherent in the lyrics and verging on strange guitar solos, but not necessarily clearly vocalized or expressed.  The only remedy for this is life: traveling, touring and really trying to understand the ethnicity of each exotic land you are blessed enough to travel through, otherwise the refrain in “Never Enough Time” could destroy anyone’s fame with simple worry and ego.  Michael Lee is strong enough to go out into the world and help solve some major issues with his music, and maintain the confidence and charisma needed to truly become an international recording artist, but it will take lots of hard work and understanding only gained helping others.

Review by Julian Gorman

Julian Gorman, Reviews Face Forward, Michael Lee

Vices I admire, a four piece out of Denver, Colorado, have crafted a solid rock album. Their sophomore release, The Politics of Apathy, demonstrates both melancholy introspection and angsty passion. Instrumentation is strong, with Mickey Dollar on guitar, Dan Battenhouse on bass, and Mark Towne on drums. David Curtis delivers impressive vocals. Whether crooning or shouting, the man has some powerful lungs.

Recorded at Colorado Sound Studios, The Politics of Apathy is a heavily produced rock album. Vocals range from melodic to screaming- a technique Curtis employs with skill. Instrumentation draws heavily on metal. The high production and catchy, chunky, head-banging guitar riffs lands Vices I Admire solidly in the realm of rock; too polished for punk, too pretty for metal, and too classic for indie. While heavy production and borrowed metal riffs does seem to strip The Politics of Apathy of some authenticity and originality, a tangible passion and honesty behind the music saves this release from falling under the umbrella category of mainstream rock. Listeners won’t be able to avoid being caught up in each distinct track.

Track one, “Keep Killing Me,” is probably the most brutal track on the record, beginning with a curdling scream from Curtis. The rest of the track is consistent in intensity, with a head-banging chorus and some extreme metal riffage. The second song, “Heartbreaker,” is straight-up rock. Curtis shows off his pipes with quick shifts in intensity and a broad vocal range, backed by catchy guitar riffs. “Heartbreaker” is a solid rock hit, though not the most memorable or unique track on the album.

“Sweetest Girl” starts slower, picking up into a foot-tapping ballad interspersed with breakdowns and shifting tempos that provide an engaging aural texture. Again, Curtis’ vocals are showcased, as he accelerates from a slow lament to high-energy screams in mere seconds. “It Is” begins with a gentle snare roll from Towne, who is soon joined by piano and pretty meandering guitar. Curtis changes his timbre in “It Is,” replacing angst with a dark and restrained passion. The track demonstrates the versatility of Vices I admire, invoking masters of angst and subdued reflection Envy on the Coast. “It Is” is one of this release’s strongest offerings.

The fifth track, “Denouement: An Intermezzo,” serves as a melancholy ballad dividing the album. Curtis’ multi-track vocals are sweet and tortured in this brief, poignant interlude. Lyrics invoke maudlin imagery, and the piano is haunting, staying with the listener after the song’s conclusion and drawing her back again and again. “Kiss Kiss” counteracts the sweet sadness of “Denouement: An Intermezzo” with intense and immediate energy, though Curtis’ lyrics and timbre still echo the dark, contemplative undertones that course through the entire album. Instrumentation is vaguely reminiscent of early releases from dark rock kings My Chemical Romance. “Kiss Kiss” is one of the catchiest and most memorable tracks on The Politics of Apathy.

“Go the Spoils” kicks off with Curtis’ banter, monotone at times, invoking the apathy referenced in the album title. The vocals are layered over quintessential, understated guitar and drums of indie rock. The song has a pleasantly haunting cadence, mid-tempo and meandering, with whispered breakdowns and beautifully morose guitar wailing in the background. The conclusion delivers a dark explosion of passion from vocal and instruments alike. On “Apathology,” Curtis is almost rapping, which is somewhat of a disappointing divergence from his incredible vocal competency on other tracks. This delivery causes “Apathology” to veer towards musical territory previously charted by the likes of Linkin Park. Later, Curtis is joined by female backing vocals. The track is mid-tempo and builds gradually to an instrumental break where guitars partake in classic rock riffs. One of the album’s least experimental tracks, it also seems to lack the emotional intensity that carries much of the album.

The last track, “Monster,” is both fast and haunting, full of interesting quirks, such as eerie whistling and grim theological references to the cross. Lyrics, delivered by Curtis in the same almost-rap of the previous track, revolve around pessimistic observations on the human condition. The only track off the album to include profanity, “Monster” doesn’t overdo it, and lines such as fucking is the latest trend add to the passion and angst that Vices I Admire are so adept at capturing.

As a whole, The Politics of Apathy is a solid sophomore album. Vices I Admire harness and release energy effectively, exploring and, for the most part, sticking to their strengths. Listeners can expect this band to mature even further on future records, giving us more of the authentic passion that characterizes their songwriting and musicianship.

Review by Kendra Atleework

Kendra Atleework, Reviews The Politics of Apathy, Vices I Admire

Kevin McCormick’s album, Songs Of The Martin is about more than just the compositions he’s chosen to record for the album.  It’s about the instrument he’s chosen to play them on. In fact, the C.F. Martin “DeGoni” guitar that he plays is really the star of the show.  How could it not be, it’s an original made in the 1840s!

With Songs Of The Martin, Kevin hands the listener a beautiful and eclectic collection of guitar music, from pop standards that will be familiar to every ear to more classical pieces.  Kevin’s guitar playing will definitely keep even the most casual of listeners enchanted.

The album opens with a true classic: Lennon/McCartney’s White Album tune,  “Blackbird”.  This song gives the listener all the proof needed to know that Kevin is a master at his craft. If a song like “Blackbird” is played as an instrumental and it still retains its integrity, then it is being played well.  In this case it’s being played more then well.  It seems as though the guitar is singing the words.  Kevin and the Martin pay

proper homage to the classic track. Another familiar tune that Kevin gives the royal treatment to is “What A Wonderful World,” a song made famous by the inimitable Louis Armstrong. It’s hard to listen to this song without hearing that bluesy voice singing, but Kevin and the Martin turn it into a lullaby.

It’s not the pop tunes, however that catch the listener’s ear the most. The simple “Etude 22” by Napoleon Coste draws  you in with the intricacy of the fingering.  The music played is light and airy and at times gentle.  “Vals En Re” is another classical composition that McCormick tackles. Composed by Francisco Tarrega, this guitar waltz will conjure images of senors and senoritas dancing the night away.

Regardless of what type of music Kevin is playing, be it a jazzy number like “I’ve Grown Accustomed To Your Face” or something folksy like Elizabeth Cotton’s “Freight Train”, the listener can’t help but be impressed. Probably the most stunning track chosen for this album is Steve Howe’s “Clap”, which has roots in ragtime and country blues.  The Irish anthem “Danny Boy” is such a sad tune, but with the way Kevin plays it some of the melancholy is lost and it seems more hopeful.  On songs like this it’s easy to imagine Kevin lovingly caressing the strings of the Martin.  The playing comes across as soft, almost whispering into the ear.

After only one listen it’s easy to tell that Kevin McCormick is a man who not only has a great talent but is comfortable with playing a variety of styles. With music on Songs Of The Martin spanning two hundred years, he certainly had numerous compositions to choose from and it seems that he’s chosen the best of the best.

Let yourself be drawn into the beauty of seventeen songs played on a guitar that is over one hundred years old. It’s a listening experience that shouldn’t be missed.

Review by Andrea Guy

Andrea Guy, Reviews Kevin McCormick, Songs of the Martin

This reviewer has never met David Robert King. In fact this reviewer has spent little time in his native Idaho, or the Northwest, where his live performances are garnering significant attention. This reviewer has never stood in the crowd and watched him play, solo or accompanied by backing band The Lost River Boys, never shared a beer with him after a show.

Nevertheless, King’s Take Me Home EP is familiar. Familiar in a comfortable, nice-guy-you-run-into at the local bar or grocery store kind of way, familiar like a front porch jam session on a summer evening. King’s voice, perfectly pitched, masculine with a suggestion of sensitivity, is comforting; it’s a timbre you’ve heard crooned from the radio since childhood. King’s lyrics follow well-worn trails of loss, love and perseverance. Instrumental backing, heavy on guitar and piano, is pretty and embracing. The structure of King’s vocal and instrumental arrangements echo earlier masters of rock, bluegrass, country, and folk, invoking decades of musical lore.

It comes as no surprise that King is winning over audiences across the continental US. Audiences like what they already know. They like what they hear on the radio, they like arrangements and melodies and lyrics that invoke but do not challenge classic genres, that do not force them to consider music, art, and life in a new way. Take Me Home courts this complacency. It gives them what they want.

The EP’s first track, “Strange Freedom,” is a perfect example. It begins with upbeat drum and guitar, soon be joined by King’s optimistic crooning. The track is uplifting, emotional, about life and love.  There is little to complain about, but also little to engage a listener’s curiosity or lodge in the memory. The title track is a sadder, slower ballad with a heavy americana influence and guitar parts that exhibit a bittersweet twang. Introspective and pretty, “Take Me Home” is a stronger offering than the first track.

The third track, “The Winter,” is also slightly melancholy. Slower sections incorporate an intriguing, ambitious melody, which is unfortunately overshadowed by a chorus that strives for inspirational but may verge on cliché. Lyrics invoking the image of a lover walking away are something that this reviewer has heard many times before.

“Somehow Today” begins with pretty guitar and piano interplay. Vocals are doused in heavy reverb, however, which is slightly distracting, an unnecessary embellishment on King’s solid vocals. Lyrics conjure up engagingly unexpected imagery: That November night is kind of a blur, I remember your uncovered feet. This is a fresh image that sparks curiosity as the lyrics proceed to unfold. With female backing vocals, it is a beautiful song, but by its conclusion remains, predictably, another ballad of troubled love.

The final track “As Closed,” though uplifting and mid-tempo like much of the EP, is the most experimental track on the EP. “As Closed” blends genres, slipping from pretty guitar and piano duets to a barrage of frantic scales and tambourines reminiscent of cabaret. The refrain recalls Jimmy Eat World’s “A Praise Chorus.”

This is not an EP for college radio stations foraging new musical frontiers. Their libraries are already well stocked with the classics. The likes of Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash, and Woody Guthrie have already scoured the territory that King now treads with this 2010 release. Of course, every musician has heroes, influences, and musical soul mates from past eras. Every genre, every great artist, is simply a compound of the past. King is no exception, providing a solid homage to the legends of rock, bluegrass, and country. There is nothing new or out of place on this comfortable little five song EP. It’s easy to slip into, easy to listen to. It won’t keep you up at night reevaluating your life, or your favorite musical genre. Take Me Home is easy, which may also mean that it is easy to forget.

The poignancy and impact of the EP may be limited by its very familiarity. Still, this reviewer has reason to believe that as King’s prowess increases, so will his depth and breadth.

Review by Kendra Atleework

Kendra Atleework, Reviews David Robert King, Take Me Home

The Bill Phipps Jazz Ensemble makes jazz that is saturated in a cool, ‘60s vibe. Led by Phipps on tenor saxophone, this 10-song collection swings at a steady pace with lots of improvisation and a whole lot of soul.

The outfit also includes Radam Schwartz at the hearty Hammond B3. Alfred Patterson exhibits a notable presence on trombone, particularly during “Mjade 2”, a song he wrote. The way Patterson and Schwartz trade off licks during this particular track is nothing short of thrilling. Otis Brown, Jr., on drums, rounds out the instrumental section of the Bill Phipps Jazz Ensemble.

Ah, but there’s more than just instrumental music going on here. In a few places, Phipps’ sound is accented by the lovely singing of Maura Tier. In each case, Tier takes on a tried ‘n true tune. She opens the disc by singing “Summertime”, that great old George Gershwin ode to the hot weather months. Later, she rollicks her way through Louis Jordan’s hip-ly asked question, “Is You Is Or Is You Ain’t My Baby”. Somehow, this title has always sounded like something Yogi Berra might propose. But in Tier’s hands, it swings gently, and with pleasure.

There’s also one more singer here; Lady Laranah Phipps. She joins the party for the tropical “Kitts Kalypso”. Although it’s only 3:57 long, it’s nevertheless a wacky little break from this otherwise American jazz-centric project. And while Otis Brown, Jr. keeps the groove going at an unhurried island pace, Bill Phipps still finds more than enough space to stretch out with fine solo saxophone work. The drummer even gets a little love with his own solo toward the track’s end.

Phipps composed the majority of these tracks. With the exception of Tier’s vocal selections, as well as Patterson’s two contributions and one traditional tune (“Moscow Mile”), Phipps was the set’s main composer. There are also many varying lengths to these songs. For instance, the act’s take on “Summertime” is over and done in 3:21, whereas “The Point Beyond”, which closes out the disc, stretches out to 10:54.

Much of the time, there is fast-paced musical interplay among these musicians. However, “Obama’s Delight”, more than likely an ode to our first black president, takes it nice and easy as a warm ballad. On it, Phipps can be heard blowing thoughtful musical lines over Schwartz’s soothing, but insistent, organ bed. It’s hard to think of such a beautiful piece of music as political. Instead, it simply comes off as an instrumental tribute to the man and his accomplishments, no matter his political party or policies.

At the risk of offending Kenny G fans, which is really no risk at all, the music Phipps makes is real jazz. People can argue about what brand of jazz is best until the cows come home, but we can all be objective about the differences between creative jazz, and mere instrumental pop. For instance, acts that play the same melody over and over again atop a funk bass/drum groove are performing a pop tune-sans-singer, and not jazz. Granted, much of that repetitious music is pleasing to the ear, but it’s still not jazz. On the other hand, you don’t have to listen too long to Phipps And Friends to notice how hard these players are working at finding new wrinkles in older tunes, such as this disc’s Gershwin inclusion, and spontaneity among its many newer creations. While it may not be the most complete definition of jazz, the search for pleasantly unexpected notes and rhythms is a large part of jazz’s appeal. Without a doubt, the Bill Phipps Jazz Ensemble pushes hard at the exploratory boundaries with this latest effort.

Review by Dan MacIntosh

Dan MacIntosh, Reviews Bill Phipps Jazz Ensemble, Phipps & Friends

A Crack in Time and the Break of Dawn.  That’s a rather romantic and intriguing name for a band.  The name alludes to mysterious and mystical melodies and vibrant, colorful soundscapes.  The band states on the back cover of the CD that this is “a musical and artistic expedition reaching out for the ever-present, everlasting Now.”

In keeping with this philosophy, A Crack in Time and the Break of Dawn begins their three-song album Remedy with an 18-minute track that is the equivalent of entering an altered state of consciousness.  The longer one listens to it, the deeper one gets taken.  The first track begins with a surfer-esque guitar riff that sets the tone for the surreal and spontaneous jam session that is about to commence.  The track is long, occasionally monotonous, and the singer’s voice leaves something to be desired as he is frequently off-key and sometimes sounds shrill.  These issues aside, the instrumentation is well done and the overall vibe of the first track is one of spectral elegance.

Track two is slow to begin and one may wonder if it will ever start.  There is nearly 4 minutes of not much of anything happening and the listener may become restless while waiting for this track to get underway.  Close to the four-minute mark the song picks up, such as it is, with some vocalization that one is hesitant to call lyrics.  They are not words, per se, at least in the usual sense, and the vocalization is mediocre at best.  Again the singer seems to be performing in his own key and his voice cracks and peters out at unexpected moments.  This 24-minute piece is rife with reverb and has a bit of a schizophrenic and otherworldly sensation to it that is not exactly comforting or harmonious.

However, there is also a rather addictive quality to this song.  It is impossible to stop listening and the guitar work is slightly reminiscent of the guitar work in Roger Waters’ song “Amused to Death.”  The drummer appears to be going through a test of endurance as the song marches forth and he tirelessly keeps the rhythm.  The basis of a jam session is to play and record in the now, and A Crack in Time and the Break of Dawn is doing precisely that.  The chaotic feel to track two and the seemingly inconsistent patterns is the result of this.  While it may not be the most pleasing or harmonious music, the listener must respect the fact that the music is improvised and spontaneous and this adds to the charm and mystery of it.

The final track is a whole different experience from the preceding two tracks.  There is a tribal essence to this piece that is savage and melodic at the same time.  The rhythm tends to emulate the sound of a train, especially as the song picks up speed.  While listening to this, one may get the vision of people dancing a secret dance, a ritualistic rite of passage that not many understand.  The closing track is by far the most intricate and pleasing of all the tracks, and at roughly 9 minutes, it’s unfortunately the shortest.  The build-up is fantastic and the climatic peak is orgasmic.  While listening to the final song, one now gets a much better understanding of the talent that this band possesses and a clearer grasp of what improvisational music is all about.

After listening to Remedy through once, the listener may be a bit confused and may sit silently pondering what has just been heard, not quite understanding the concept of what A Crack in Time and the Break of Dawn is trying to accomplish.  A second listen-through better solidifies the artistic experience of this album and the listener may now be more open to the unique and original way that this collective perceives music.  By the time the listener gives it a third go around, all bets are off and the music itself has become oddly addictive.  The sheer idea of improvisational music is unique and rarely done, most especially the way A Crack in Time and the Break of Dawn does it.  The music itself may not be all that fantastic, but the idea behind the music is mind blowing.  It may take people a minute to fully grasp it, but once it clicks, there is no turning back.

Review by Rhonda Readence

Reviews, Rhonda Readence A Crack in Time and the Break of Dawn, Remedy

On the back cover of Remedy, the first CD in the series of discs that have been planned for the musical collective known as A Crack in Time and the Break of Dawn, there is a question that the band wants you to consider. To condense and paraphrase the question, they ask: If you take away the conscious past and the conscious future, what will be left? “The ever-present Now”. It is in “the ever-present Now” where A Crack in Time and the Break of Dawn exists.

This collective of rotating musicians under the guidance of Helge Corneliussen creates their music to be experienced as it happens and once it ends, the collective moves on to the next musical setting. Born from a 48-hour long improvisational festival in Norway, the group of musicians have gathered together from time to time to create music on the spot and record the results to release later. The resulting recordings have been produced to create totally unique CDs of music. The band recently put out the initial album entitled Remedy.

Checking out the packaging of the collective’s debut, there is an absolute lack of information: Whether the collective considers itself one entity so that no one person should be singled out, or if there was a lack of accounting for which member was on stage at what point, no musician is given credit for playing on the release.

On a related subject, A Crack in Time and the Break of Dawn also decided to be very non-decisive about naming their musical creations: No song is actually given a title, they are simply known by the number of the track they end up being in the tracking of each disc. As Remedy has three tracks, the songs are Track 01, Track 02, and Track 03.

Since the recordings of songs by A Crack in Time and the Break of Dawn will ultimately end up being released over the course of five CDs, perhaps the collective decided to start the series off with the songs that were deliberately light and slow; at least, that’s the way it comes across listening.

With the three songs that make up Remedy, the chosen music is quite laid back and over-simplistic. When the collective makes the claim that they have a rock style to their songs, these songs are very experimental with a lot of avante garde feel to them. One might ask where the rock influence is.

Each selection on the album encompasses the entire length of the improvisation. Had the group decided to allow the songs to be played out and then gone back and edited them to a stronger section of the piece to begin the composition, that would have made the release more interesting. Tighter production should have been considered.

Although stronger songs could have been chosen, the songs that are present on the album are very indicative of improvisation. The easy-going nature of the music tells you that the musicians let the music take them wherever they would eventually end up. It takes talent to completely improvise music on stage and the musicians who make up A Crack in Time and the Break of Dawn do not disappoint musically. Now, if only the song selections can be stronger for the rest of the upcoming releases, the musical collective can make a name for itself.

Review by Matheson Kamin

Matheson Kamin, Reviews A Crack in Time and the Break of Dawn, Remedy