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

With The Journey, Danie Syre takes the listener on a musical travelogue. But this is no kind of, ‘I just won the Super Bowl. Now I’m going to Disneyland,’ happy trek. Instead, it’s one woman’s journal of a hard fought life. “I’m on a solitary ride, all on my own,” she admits during the CD’s title track. And, indeed, she sure sounds like she’s going it alone.

Two tracks deal with the deaths of important, inspirational figures. One of these folks was influential at a distance, the other one much, much closer to home. Over a sadly swaying beat, along with weepy, backing vocal ‘oohs,’ Syre says a farewell to this iconic torch singer that she (Cline) will never hear. “So I’m calling out to Patsy Cline, wish you were around,” she reaches back to her idol. Syre describes two different Patsy Clines: one was the singer of familiar songs during Syre’s youth, the other is now a wise veteran and colleague. When Syre admits, “I’m so much older now and I understand the pain,” this line is sung by someone who – much like Cline – knows a bit about living with hurt. Syre recognizes that Cline’s work suggested the depth of a singer/songwriter, even though she didn’t write her own songs and came along long before the singer/songwriter genre came into vogue. However, Syre still recognizes Cline as a fellow troubadour, and rightfully so.

With “Before You Go”, Syre sings a song to her dying father. Its lyric is something only a daughter could honestly express. “You’ve held me since I was born/Now I hold you until you’re gone.” Her dad was also a fellow musician, as his painted portrait where he’s seen picking an acoustic guitar, accompanies the lyric in the CD booklet. It’s one thing to sing an ode to Patsy Cline; it’s quite another thing to send your only father into the great beyond with song. “I’ve cried and prayed,” she admits at one point, “just let me get through this song.” Saying goodbye to one’s parents is the hardest thing a son or daughter will ever have to do, and nothing is easy about performing “Before You Go” for Syre.

The Journey is a tough work to easily categorize stylistically. While “Isn’t It A Shame?” and “Beautiful Melancholy” bounce along like the a few of the lighter, more country moments of Bob Dylan’s Blood on the Tracks, something like “Guilt” is different altogether with its layered backing music, including gypsy fiddle. Without a doubt, Dylan casts a big shadow over Syre’s art. In fact, “Poet Man” is another musical tribute, this time praising the crazy and beautiful poetry of Bob Dylan. But no matter the musical bed, Syre has a distinctively penetrating voice. In fact, the opening song, “Beautiful Melancholy”, sums up her natural instrument nicely. Everything she sings comes out a little melancholy, as if sadness just cannot hide its face whenever she digs into any song.

Although Syre’s inner sadness is inescapable, she is by no means an entirely sad person. For instance, “Angels” is a beautiful love song that longs for a chance to thank the angels for her loving man. With a sparse arrangement, which once again puts fiddle to good use, Syre gives her thanks over a slow and thoughtful track where honky-tonk piano also plays a large role. Toward the end of the song, however, Syre takes a few liberties with her human-to-angel face time by requesting a little more peace on Earth. “If I could talk to angels, I’d let them know/That the world needs more love we need it so.”

Syre may be on a solitary ride, equipped with a strong and honest set of original songs, but if you decide to hitchhike a ride with the singer/songwriter, chances are good your ride may not feel quite so lonely. This is because she’s a friend who understands.

Review by Dan MacIntosh

Dan MacIntosh, Reviews Danie Syre, The Journey

Monkey Bones has a little fun at the expense of reality television with its song (its title song, to be exact) “Television”. After all, who doesn’t have a few sardonic thoughts about so called reality television? Men, women, and children exit any semblance of reality right after the cameras begin to roll, right? But isn’t this also a case of, ‘Look who’s calling the kettle black?’ Because if you’re looking for reality, you certainly won’t find a whole lot of well grounded individuals populating the drug and alcohol saturated late night, downtown clubs of AnyBigCity, USA (AKA rock & hangouts).

This band is from Tulsa, Oklahoma, which likely has a lot more centered people than, say, Los Angeles, CA. Michael Barkett is the lead vocalist, guitarist, and master of ceremonies for the group. He can sing real pretty, which is exemplified by the mid-tempo “Magic.” And when spits out rockers, like “Star Soul Rising”, he does so with an Axl Rose-esque snarl in his voice.

Alan Bates plays Keith Richards to Barkett’s Mick Jagger, with stinging lead electric guitar lines. Many of these tracks bring bands like Soundgarden and Stone Tempo Pilots to mind, although the Monkey Bones sonic doesn’t have the same low end growl associated with those acts. Nevertheless, tracks like “The Answer” contain a similar menacing crawl to them. The slight boogie groove found on “Hammer Comin’ Down” nicely matches a Guns N’ Roses feel with Barkett’s Axl vocalizations.

This group is not just a good sounding band, however; Barkett is smarter than your average front man. He especially shows these smarts during “Sell Your Soul”. In a rhetorical manner, Barkett converses musically with one who claims rock & roll’s going to save his soul. He replies, “Well, I’d like to see the plan.” Just as Monkey Bones know that television – particularly reality television – is vastly overrated, they also realize rock music cannot be the end all and be all of anybody’s life.

A song like “Sunny Rays” offers a welcome break from all this CD’s serious talk. Like the sun breaking through the clouds during a rainy period, its lyric basks in the emotional glow of romantic love. Just knowing that your girl loves you is sometimes all you need to get by. “Rock Me” may be one of this CD’s more somber relationship songs, but it’s got such an irresistible groove, it’s hard not to feel guiltily good while it plays. Bates guitar part on it chugs along like an unstoppable locomotive, and his solo is one where every note fits perfectly, instead of the show-off-y heavy metal riff-ery so popular in hard rock these days.

It’s so tempting to laugh whenever Victoria’s Secret puts together one of its annual rock and fashion shows on television. Let’s be serious; much contemporary rock is little more than fashion statements put to a 4/4 beat. Monkey Bones, bless their hearts, would never quite fit into such a shallow showcase. This is a meat and potatoes rock bend, in the best possible sense of that term. They write songs, not just riffs. They have something to say, not just to show. So do yourself a favor. Turn off your television, and turn up Monkey bones, instead.

Review by Dan MacIntosh

Dan MacIntosh, Reviews Monkey Bones, Television

Some guys go for petite flowers when it comes to finding girls to love. But others dig the tough chicks, and live for the challenge of handling handfuls. And for the latter variety, in the overall companion search realm, there is Lily Sparks. This band opens its new five-song EP with “Stars,” which announces: “Stars, guitars, muscle cars make me happy.” In other words, girly dresses and jewelry are not effective paths to their strong, gnarly hearts.

     This group is lead by Nimh who, while raised in Ireland, sounds a lot like American rocker, Ann Wilson, of Heart. Although she may not have the same Led Zeppelin fixation as does that Seattle-based classic rock band, Nimh can belt it out pretty darn well. Lily Sparks is from New York City, which is already a tough enough starting point for bands of guys. But this is a trio of girls, which certainly needs every ounce of toughness it can muster just to survive.

     The disc’s opener, “Stars,” is a sort of call to arms. It’s the type of song that declares just exactly who is doing the talking around here – these tough ones. “Moonlight on the GTO/And I turn the radio on,” it begins, setting the scene. “I’m living it up until my dying days,” the group says later, in a ‘live fast, die young, and leave a beautiful corpse,’ manner. However, even tough exteriors sometimes have soft, white underbellies. But when Lily Sparks gets quiet and acoustic – as happens during “The Girls” — the track turns out to be a love song to New York City, rather than just some guy. It ends with Nimh gently cooing this famous big city’s name.

     There are, however, a few relationship songs – tunes about relationships to other people, rather than odes to autos, celebrities, metropolises and instruments – of course. With “Let Go,” Nimh cries for her man to let down his guard just a little bit more, so the two can open up to each other a whole lot better. And with “Walk Away,” a chugging rocker, she sighs about the aftermath of a relationship’s recent demise.

     The song that brings the band Heart most to mind is titled “Where Are We Today”. And while it’s slightly vague, lyrically speaking, it appears to contain politically motivated words. On it, Nimh asks a few biting, pointed questions. “Where are we today/Do you feel safe or still scared to speak your mind?” Over an insistent acoustic guitar groove, it seems to be about the affect of the 9/11 terrorist attack. And that makes sense because nobody who lives in New York City will ever be the same after what happened on that fateful day. It’s a shame that an event, that once so unified us, has become little more than political fodder to some. I wish the band could have been a little clearer in how they worded this particular one because that would have made it even more powerful than it already is.

     In a music scene where shock-poppers, like Lady Gaga, and girl rockers, like Miley Cyrus and Taylor Swift, attract so much (too much?) public attention, it’s refreshing to once again hear an honest-to-goodness hard rocking girl band. Cooper Cobra will bring back memories of Heart, of course, as well as The Bangles during some of their more aggressive moments. Tracks such as “Stars” are good fun, but more thoughtful recordings, namely “Where Are We Today” and “The Girls”, reveal even more promise for this act, as they dig so much deeper. These women can definitely play and sing as well, so their future is bright.

     The world better let the ever-tough Lily Sparks succeed, or else somebody might get hurt.

Reviewed By Dan MacIntosh

Dan MacIntosh, Reviews Cooper Cobra, Lily Sparks

Benny Paul’s kind of normal, is a sort of normality where variety is the norm. At least that’s what’s suggested by the music on his My Kind of Normal CD.

If the only two Paul tracks you ever heard were “Gabrielle” and “Afternoon in the Park”, for instance, you might quickly surmise he is clearly a reserved, acoustic guitar master. This is because Paul plays each of these instrumentals with gentle care. There are also no vocals, as Paul lets his nimble fingers do all the talking.

However, “Gabrielle” is followed up immediately by “Goodbye to Heartache”, which is fast and punky. Is this really the same Paul as on “Gabrielle” and “Afternoon in the Park”? Nevertheless, nothing will prepare you for “Cardboard Box”, one of the strangest Christmas songs to come down the pike in a long time. Over a new wave-y groove, Paul does the equivalent to a vocal pogo as he sings, “All I want for Christmas is a cardboard box.” Granted, this is what many small children might say Christmas morning, if they learned to talk just after birth, of course; after all, how many times have you seen these tiny ones having more fun with the boxes, than with the treasures once stored inside them? But in Paul’s case, this song’s lyric describes a full grown man. Maybe it’s a homeless man. Whoever it is, this guy’s certainly in a strange circumstance.

Things get even stranger with “Six String Jimmy”, which finds Paul singing part of it with an electronically affected voice – the kind oftentimes heard on dance music recordings. This is by no means any dance song, though. Rather, it’s an ode to a rock god of some kind. It also features Paul at his hard rock, electric guitar stringing best, with an extensive lead solo.

One called “This Is Your Song” is also a good one. It has a bit of a blues groove going for it, and is colored nicely with ‘50s-inspired backing vocals. Lyrically, this is a straight-out love song to someone named Rebecca. “This is your song,” Paul croons during the chorus, “Rebecca I love you.” Toward the end of the track, Paul also stretches out with some fine electric guitar work.

For the most part, Paul focuses on love songs much of the time. Sometimes, as on “Goodbye to Heartache” and “Cry When It’s Over”, he is looking back at the end of relationships. Other times, as exemplified by “I Wanna Be Your Man”, Paul expresses a desire to live up to his girl’s high expectations.

Paul even finds room for one spiritual song, too. The second to last track on this 12-song CD, is a tune that combines both Paul’s acoustic and electric guitar skills. Titled “Thank You God”, it’s as open and sincere as Paul’s lyrics about girls. It has a sweet, upbeat feel to it.

This release closes with “It’s All a Little Crazy”, which begins with Paul speaking nonsense words. But when Paul begins to sing about everything being crazy, he’s referring to the good kind of crazy. As he puts it, life is a “story yet to be told.” 

Chances are good that Benny Paul’s kind of normal also matches yours. And that’s a fine thing, because Paul’s “yet to be told” story sounds like it’s going to be a good one.

Reviewed By Dan MacIntosh

Dan MacIntosh, Reviews Benny Paul, My Kind of Normal

Holiday music comes in all flavors. There’s everything from Christmas on Death Row, which is the gangsta rap collection from a label where many on its roster actually did hard time, to God Rest Ye Merry Jazz Men, which is – as its title blatantly expresses – a selection of Christmas songs performed by esteemed jazz musicians. Dan Van Oss’ new CD, The Heart of Heaven ~ A Christmas Present ~, is a reverent Christmas album, for those curious about how to categorize it. Whereas rap and jazz takes on holiday music may well be considered sacrilegious by some, this same accusation can never be leveled at Van Oss; his music is, for the most part, as sacred as a church communion service.

     Musically, this release mainly leans toward orchestral pop, along with slight jazz colorings. For example, “Christmas Time Is Here” features organ, unobtrusive jazz drum fills, and a flugelhorn solo. Jazz is also the inspiration for “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel”, which includes a Coltrane-ish saxophone solo. But Van Oss’ focus is usually much more centered on historic hymns of the Christian church elsewhere. “Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus” borrows the Celtic melody of “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing”, yet applies a lyric by Charles Wesley, an 18^th century leader of the Methodist movement.

     Van Oss is most effective with music that is steeped in longstanding tradition. He’s not quite as compelling, however, on more contemporary offerings. “Blue Christmas” is soulfully moving when sung by Elvis Presley, but when Van Oss takes it at a slower pace and sings it ever so quietly, it just doesn’t have the King’s emotional impact. Being away from the one you love during the holidays can be immeasurably sad, it’s true. But you need not sing about this separation at a funeral pace, as is done here. “Christmas Time Is Here” is bright and sweet when sung by the Peanuts gang on that familiar Charlie Brown Christmas special, but Van Oss unfortunately drains much of the punch from this tune with his take. Far more successful is a cover of “Little Drummer Boy”, which packs the track with Eastern-sounding percussion. This transforms it from a Westernized pop song, into something those in The Holy Land might more readily recognize. However, there is also a spacey electronic part toward the middle of the track that makes this particularly section otherworldly – for lack of a better term. This is “Little Drummer Boy” as you’ve never heard it before, but Van Oss deserves big kudos for taking chances and experimenting with that which is overly familiar.

      There are other places where Van Oss takes a few smaller sonic leaps of faith, as well. On “Joy to The World”, for example, he wrote an entirely different melody. At first, it’s a bit uncomfortable to hear these well-known words sung to a completely foreign melody. But after a few listens, it begins to sound like it fits just nicely. Another admirable innovation is the cricket sound effects applied to “Away In A Manger”. This little touch goes a long way in setting the scene of Jesus’ birth.

     On the surface, Dan Van Oss’ The Heart of Heaven ~ A Christmas Present ~ is a relatively straightforward project. It’s only after closer inspection that one finds some of the many gifts this sneakily creative artist has hidden under his tree. And honestly, what is Christmas without a few unexpected surprises?

Reviewed By Dan MacIntosh

Dan MacIntosh, Reviews Dan Van Oss, The Heart of Heaven

Wow, Jenny Lang is one fine singer! Her new CD, 3 O’ Clock Saturday, would sound good on a weekend afternoon, or just about any old time.

Much of this release has an upbeat, modern day rhythm and blues feel to it. But Lang truly shines brightest on “I Don’t Understand”, which is a bit of a slow blues tune. Over a sparse groove, which brings to mind those great Philly soul sounds of the ‘70s, Lang takes her time contemplating why a man had the nerve to cheat on her. Lang doesn’t ever have to let loose, vocally. Instead, she uses her flexible voice to work out her trials and tribulations in song, with great care.

Lang is equally adept at expressing her gospel roots as she is in contemplating the sins of her mate, however. This disc closes with “I Don’t Know When It’s Coming”, where Lang incorporates spoken word scripture quotes into a track that speaks of her confidence that God’s blessings are on their way. Although the subject matter is entirely different than “I Don’t Understand”, “I Don’t Know When It’s Coming” nevertheless utilizes a similar vocal approach. So many times in gospel music, singers vocalize so strenuously, the listener starts to be afraid they’ll pull a muscle or something while performing. But Lang is so confident enough in her innate musicality that she doesn’t need to push herself to get people to notice. It’s a little like watching a basketball player going through extremely difficult gymnastic moves to make a shot, when all they really need to do is simply lay it in. Lang is like the latter instance, as she always makes it look easy. But this is not to say Lang is not a skilled singer; she is a natural beauty, vocally, and she’s learned well how to showcase her instrument. She paces herself, instead of sprinting to the point of being out of breath.

There are moments during this 14-song disc where Lang brings to mind Sade’s Quiet Storm soul vibe. But sometimes Sade can come off a little too-cool-for-school, to the extent of making the listener apathetic after a short while. Yet Lang is both smooth and warm at the same time. Something like “Fairy Tales”, which – if not handled correctly – could have come off a little too cute. In Lang’s hands, however, the mystery of love, which can oftentimes be fairy tale-like – comes through loud and clear.

With 3 O’ Clock Saturday, Jennifer Lang has created a batch of fine listening music. And there’s a clear distinction, by the way, between ‘listening’ music and ‘dance’ music. A lot of R&B music sounds great in a club or booming from a car stereo. But if you attempt to enjoy such sounds in a stationary position, you may become a little restless. In contrast, Lang’s sounds have a calming affect. They make you want to sit back, relax, and take it all in. 

Jennifer Lang’s picture on the cover of this CD is sweet and inviting. One look and you will say to yourself, ‘That looks like a nice girl.’ The same thing happens when listening to the music contained within. You’re not just listening to some unknowable singer. Instead, it’s like you’re sitting and letting a good friend sing to you. Without a doubt, 3 O’ Clock Saturday is an appointment you definitely need to keep.

Reviewed By Dan MacIntosh

Dan MacIntosh, Reviews 3 O'Clock Saturday, Jennifer Lang

You get the sense during Shane Lamb’s Disengage CD that recent events of life are too close to the bone, which then causes an instinctual desire to somehow separate from all these encroaching, unhappy circumstances. During this CD’s title track Lamb observes: “You showed up/In full dress and war paint/You did your dance/All I did was hesitate/What else can I do/What else can I do/But disengage.” As the Southwest airlines ad asks, ‘Wanna get away?’

Lamb has said these “songs came out of a period of loss and disillusionment, soul searching, anger, fear, acceptance and the joy of new possibilities.” Yet the sometimes downer nature of these lyrics never drags the music down along with them, turning it all into a drag. The presence of topnotch musicians, including Chris Tuttle’s Hammond organ and Pat Buchanan’s guitar, give it a bright, roots-y rock vibe. Lamb name-drops Tom Petty’s Wildflowers in his biography, although I hear a lot more of Petty’s Southern Accents – albeit without all the Southern guilt. Much like Petty and his cautious optimism, even in the murky darkness Lamb is ever looking for the light. “I try to see the ways that I am blessed,” he offers during “Someday”.

There is also a slight touch of existentialism running through Lamb’s lyrics. When he asks the hard question, “Were you deceived by the ones you were taught to trust?” on “To Get You Through”, it puts into doubt all the assumed rock solid institutions we’ve — up until now — learned to rely upon. Its words make you wonder if Lamb is singing it to somebody that was burned by religion, or worse yet, wronged by a brainwashing cult. Bob Dylan once sang, “If you want somebody to trust/Trust yourself.” And there are times in life when humans must rely solely upon their own innate abilities to survive. However, this cannot be a permanent behavioral change, or else we’ll never learn to love and trust another human again.

There are also moments of sincere sweetness contained on this CD, as well. When Lamb sings, “I just wanted you to know/You were on my mind,” it’s clearly the reflection upon a simple love note. This song is followed by “A While”, which rolls to a gently picked acoustic guitar, and states, “I just want to lay with you for a while.” Although it’s a whole lot smarter than that ‘60s song, which advised, “Love the one you’re with,” it basically says the same thing. The song’s main character doesn’t want this togetherness to stand for anything other than simple companionship. ‘Lord, please don’t read too much into it!’, he seems to be suggesting to his lover.

Country music has inspired some of this music, but this factor is probably more environmental than intentional – a lot of Nashville cats perform on it, after all. But with its overt soul elements, Memphis sounds also come to mind, and Lamb’s pop songwriting furthermore makes one think about classic rock inspirations.

It’s hard not to be encouraged by Lamb’s utter determination to make lemonade out of his crate full of lemons. When he advises, “You follow your dreams like taillights in a storm,” you realize he’s suggesting that dreaming is by no means a passive activity. Instead, you need to stay tailgate-close to your dreams or they’ll get away from you and leave you lost. Such perseverance turns Disengage into a truly engaging effort.

Reviewed By Dan MacIntosh

Dan MacIntosh, Reviews Disengage, Shane Lamb

North Carolina is an apt title for Mike Mitchell’s new CD because its ten songs subtly reflect the quiet dignity of that Southern state. Much of this music resembles Neil Young’s more country moments, as there’s an abundance of pedal steel and fiddle, which gives everything a traditional country base of support. Mitchell stays on key a whole lot better than Young, however. (But then again, doesn’t everybody?) But it’s the vulnerability in Mitchell’s vocal style that reminds one most of Mr. Young.

Ironically, the liner notes to North Carolina advise listeners to play it loud. That’s a ‘Turn it up, dude!’ admonition more often associated with loud rock & roll, where cranked up electric guitars are more prominently in play. Yet Mitchell is such an unobtrusive sort of vocalist, and turning up the volume on his voice would be akin to listening to a whisper at full volume. That’s a strange proposition, indeed.

 “Pretty in the Sun” is the track that stands out most from this overall solid collection. On it, the gentle Mitchell lusts over a woman who looks particularly hot in daylight. “She turns me on,” he sings bluntly. The song’s arrangement breaks from this release’s otherwise traditional country vibe, and displays something much more Eastern European in nature. The sound of it makes you imagine that Mitchell is chasing after some mysterious gypsy woman. And you fear for Mitchell because this is more than likely the sort of “lady” that will ultimately break his heart. She’s probably the feminine equivalent to an oasis in the desert – there one moment, gone the next. But maybe I’m reading too much into this track.

The last song, “Book of Broken Hearts”, describes a girl with different carry-on baggage altogether: She is a woman with a full portfolio of broken hearts. Yet much like the gypsy gal described in “Pretty in the Sun”, Mitchell is equally smitten by this femme. “She makes me weak in the knees,” he admits. In fact, Mitchell – if these songs are truly an indication of his unpredictable love life – has a whole lot of girl trouble. Song titles like “You Don’t Have Room for Me” and “Don’t Give up on me” each describe a man that wants to either hold a relationship together or reignite a quickly cooling one. You don’t, however, get the impression Mitchell is in any kind of control of his relationships.

It’s also worth noting that the track order in places is pure genius. For instance, “Will to Love Again” comes directly after “After the Damage is done”. This one-two song punch paints the picture of someone dusting himself off and starting all over again. Humans are resilient, after all, if nothing else. We can have our hearts shattered in over a million places, yet before long we’re out there scouring the ground, picking up the shreds and putting ourselves together again. We’re a lot like independent Humpty Dumpties, when it comes to reentering the love game.  

Mike Mitchell’s North Carolina is a slice of the South’s slower paced lifestyle. But just because life isn’t going at a breakneck pace, doesn’t mean people aren’t still getting hurt. It’s all about losing with dignity, so this music you can listen to and have a quiet cry.

Reviewed By Dan MacIntosh

Dan MacIntosh, Reviews Mike Mitchell, North Carolina

No matter how good you are, if you live on one side of the United States, someone on the other side may have never heard of you. So when someone with as many awards and accolades from the New Mexico Music Awards sends a CD to me in Cleveland, I am intrigued. And when Kito Peters from Santa Fe sent me his CD of “Undertow,” I immediately put it on. And after listening to the release, it became clear to me why his name keeps popping up in New Mexico: The man has talent.

Kito Peters calls the area of Santa Fe “home”. It is there that you will find him creating a lot of noise; not just musically, but in their local music scene, as well. Every time the musician puts out a release, it is sure to end up in the New Mexico Music Awards, which says a lot for the talent of this singer-songwriter. One such album that ended up being included in the New Mexico Music Awards is Peters’ album of “Undertow”.

Like many singer-songwriters that have come before him, ‘musical genre’ means almost nothing to Kito. Depending on the song and the feeling each song takes, there might be folk, jazz, blues, or even rock in the songs that Kito writes. But most of the time, the songs end up with a combination of styles creating their sounds. Along with his ability to create songs with different genres, he also writes songs with some other singer-songwriters as influences, even if those influences are more than apparently worn on his sleeve. If you listen to the songs on “Undertow,” some of Kito’s influences should be very obvious.

On “Undertow,” Kito seems to have channeled several people when he was writing the songs for the album. The style of playing for the instruments as well as the lyrics for the tune “Priests” are very reminiscent of singer-songwriter Warren Zevon. And when listening to the song “Empty,” the writing style of the song as well as the vocal style that Kito has chosen for the song most definitely bring to mind none other than Tom Waits. The vocal approach that Kito takes on the song is a cross between early Tom Waits and the later years of the musician’s career when his voice was much more coarse. Other styles are also present on the release, but those are the ones that jump out at me the most. And while some of Kito Peters’ influences are very apparent, these influences have helped to shape the musician that created the enjoyable album of “Undertow”.

For the album “Undertow,” many talented musicians who played the instruments heard on the release joined Kito Peters. Without these talented musicians, and without the talents of Paul Groetzinger, Kevin Zoernig, and Ben Wright as producers, the album wouldn’t have the same feel.

Time and again, Santa Fe’s Kito Peters has been nominated in the New Mexico Music Awards. Take the chance to listen to “Undertow” or any of his other releases and you can see why.

To find out more about the talented singer-songwriter Kito Peters and his music, check out his website at www.kitopeters.com. You can also find him on MySpace at www.myspace.com/kitopeters.

Reviewed By Matheson Kamin

Dan MacIntosh, Matheson Kamin, Reviews Kito Peters, Undertow