Progressive rock is a very difficult genre of music to work in for musicians.  The very nature of “prog rock” is that it progresses in form, arrangement, meter, etc. as it continues along.  In order to accomplish this, an artist needs to have the musical knowledge and ability to write and perform this kind of material with enough style and instrumental flourish to keep the listener engaged. Even on a lyrical level, progressive rock is usually on a different plain of existence.  Notable progressive rock groups such as Genesis, Yes, and King Crimson often wrote unique, abstract lyrics that could be delved into and explored as much as the music itself could.  Pop music tends to be the antithesis of these things but not in any kind of negative way.  Pop is more often than not, punchy, direct, linear, catchy, and more formulaic. The marriage of these two genres is not an easy task; yet Michael Lee attempts to do it on much of his 2009 album, Face Forward.

The best thing Lee does throughout the record’s eleven tracks is create remarkable arrangements that are more rich and textured than most conventional rock or pop songs could ever try to be.  Even more notable is that he largely accomplishes this by himself.  With the exception of drums (played by Will Gates) and some organs and synthesizers (played by Christopher Lever) on two tracks, Lee is responsible for virtually every sound on the album.  Fortunately, unlike other multi-instrumentalists, Lee doesn’t pick up an instrument that he doesn’t play well.  The guitar tracks in particular are where Lee really shines, from the acoustic picking on “Mystery of Life”, to the riff-rocking on “Never Enough Time”, and the chiming rhythm of “Land of Change” which also features a great bass line.

One performance issue that affects Lee at times is his voice.  By no means is his voice bad, but there’s two traits to it that negatively impact the album.  First, Lee’s pronunciation of some words, and at times whole verses, is muddled and slurred.  Parts of the song “Trust” are very difficult to understand, including how he sings the word “trust” itself.  The second issue is Lee’s tackling of the lead and overdubbed harmony vocals.  His upper register is stronger than his lower, which occasionally makes his harmonies better sung than the leads.  Other times Lee’s vocals sound so similar that the harmonies are ineffective. Compare the backing vocals on “Land of Change” to those on “Distant Future” sung by Martin Drabik.  The latter song’s stronger contrast in the two voices provides a more dynamic sound that emphasizes the song’s poignant lyrics more.

On the subject of lyrics, this is where Face Forward has the most difficulty.  As previously mentioned, effective progressive rock has a combination of strong musical and lyrical arrangements.  For much of the album, the music is at a rock/prog hybrid level while the lyrics are firmly rooted in pop/rock. “Land of Change” has a lyric that is an unfortunate cliché and slightly preachy call for change that isn’t delivered with the same vigor the music is.  The same criticism is easily applied to “Youth” where the lyric tries to convey the frustration of the younger generation in the world but it just doesn’t quite capture it.  The point of view that Lee writes from comes across as more of a teenage stereotype than an actual teen’s thought process, and it doesn’t match up with the tense musical atmosphere Lee wonderfully lays down.

The second half of the album remedies this mostly by steering more towards traditional rock.  ”In the Picture” provides a great perspective on the frustration caused by another man infringing on the narrator’s relationship with his loved one.  The previously mentioned “Distant Future” is another fantastic lyric with the striking line “but you didn’t know I was a troubled soul, waiting for direction”.  On both of these songs the acoustic base for the song and vivid imagery of the lyrics form great musical pieces and in completely different tones. “In the Picture” is bleak and slightly angry while “Distant Future” is hopeful and borderline plucky.  The greatest combination of Lee’s efforts is “Never Enough Time” which captures the progressive elements, rock influences and dark musical tone and pits them against an equally dark lyric.  Though Lee doesn’t really reach this peak elsewhere on the album, this song is evidence enough of his talent and potential.

Overall, Face Forward is too ambitious for it’s own good; “Youth” is over long without actually being progressive, the blazing guitar solo on “Despite” seems somewhat out of place, and the instrumental title track is a little superfluous.  Still, these songs feature breathtaking arrangements and glimpses into great potential.  As mentioned before, trying to wed pop/rock and progressive rock is not an easy task.  Later-day Genesis tried it and at times completely abandoned the prog rock side, Asia tried it and were considered laughable by many critics, Yes tried it and were called sell outs.  At best, Michael Lee has crafted an imperfect album with great moments and at worst he’s in highly noteworthy company.  Either way, that’s not bad at all for someone as young and fresh in his career as he is.

Review by Heath Andrews

Heath Andrews, Reviews Face Forward, Michael Lee

At five tracks and less than twenty-three minutes in length, David King’s EP Take Me Home doesn’t give itself much time to make an impression, but it’d still be able to leave an excellent one in half that time.  From the first song, “Strange Freedom”, King shows himself to be a strong lyricist and equally strong, if not stronger, songwriter.  Despite the short run time, the EP manages to feature two different yet similarly styled types of songs, beginning with two guitar driven songs and transitioning to songs with more layered pianos and keyboards.  Most of Take Me Home is written in 3/4 time, giving many of the tracks a waltz beat and a lyrical rhythm that flows smoothly from track to track.

Sonically, King’s music style is very reminiscent of The Wallflowers, particularly on the keyboard led numbers.  King’s voice and delivery is somewhat akin to Jakob Dylan’s too, making the comparison stronger; though King’s lyrics are less obtuse and more direct than Dylan’s.  The lyrics are a significant drawing point to the EP, as evidenced on “Strange Freedom”’s repeated lyric “There’s a strange freedom in knowing/the one that you love doesn’t love you back”, sung over the song’s coda.  The subject matter doesn’t stray too far from the concepts of love, pining, and heartache, but King can craft some wonderful imagery such as “Was my apartment cold that evening or, did my shoulder and arms feel just right” from “Somehow Today.”  The piano and guitar meshing together on said song to create a hypnotic repeating quality that sounds similar to Coldplay’s “Clocks”, with that tone perfectly matching and drawing out the emotions contained within the words.  Even the noise of King’s hands squeaking along the frets of his guitar adds to the enchanting rhythm.

The title track is the most dynamic of the five songs as it develops from its acoustic guitar base to the keyboard heavy sound that features more on the second half of the EP.  The percussion is non-existent to start, lightly kicks in to change the time signature, and eventually develops into booming drum fills that propel the chorus of an otherwise low-key song.  This kind of percussion is generally what prevails on most of the songs.  Aside from the shuffle beat on “Strange Freedom”, king chooses to put the percussion in the background, allowing the full force of his words to carry through.

The remaining songs, “The Winter” and “As Closed” are similarly written in how the verses have very light instrumentation and the choruses very layered sounds. King doesn’t create riffs so much as he plays a few repeated notes during the verse that again, allow his voice and words to be the song.  Anyone seeking a guitar solo would be hard-pressed to find one throughout the extended player, with the closest thing being the banjo solo on the breakdown of “As Closed”.  But this is a kind of microcosm to the EP as a whole; there’s no one thing or part that truly stands out, instead it all coalesces into a series of powerful arrangements, and exemplary songwriting.

Take Me Home works incredibly well as an EP; it doesn’t overstay its welcome and leaves a craving for more afterward.  David Robert King is a solid performer, but a stellar songwriter and lyricist.  The pleasant arrangements and deep lyrics will appeal to listeners across genres and is a large step-up from the adult contemporary fare of recent years.  With all good fortune, the music world can look forward to a full-length recording of King’s in the future; but for now, Take Me Home will do just fine.

Review by Heath Andrews

Heath Andrews, Reviews David Robert King, Take Me Home

Australia has given the music world AC/DC, Icehouse, Men At Work, Midnight Oil, Crowded House, and INXS amongst others. If there is any justice in the world, Victor Stranges will be amongst those great names in terms of recognition and accomplishment. Stranges’s 2009 album Hello Me To You is a piece of Pop/Rock near-perfection. There’s very little here that Stranges doesn’t do well; a striking accomplishment considering that the album is almost entirely written, produced, and performed by himself. The result of his efforts is a terrific musical showcase that maintains its consistency while never sounding dull or as if the songs are blending into one.

The first thing the average music listener will notice is that Stranges sounds very much like Elvis Costello; the vocal similarity is uncanny in particular. To say the music and lyrics is Costello-like is also warranted, but instead of being a sound-alike, Stranges is to Costello as Bob Seger is to Bruce Springsteen; there are similarities, but there are differences enough to where Stranges can settle into his own identity. Still, Costello is a good baseline for determining how much you’d enjoy Stranges’s music since he doesn’t reinvent Pop/Rock music in anyway here; he just takes his own music and plays the hell out of it.

The opening track, “Morning Star” really sets the mood with is organ-esque keyboards, doo-doo chorus, hand clapping and tight guitar solo. The lyrics are a cut above the average fare as well, “So let’s reverse this reckoning/’cause eternity is beckoning.” The slightly quirky title track is the best indicator of Stranges’s potential and ability as a musician. This song is firing on all cylinders; the crisp, rattling drums, the peppy pacing, and the infectious chorus that borders on non-sensical while being a witty comment on meeting someone who really overwhelms you. The song also throws in one of the best lines to be put down on record, “I thought you liked The Replacements/But Bon Jovi was what you meant…”

Stranges’s songs either tend to revolve around the guitar, or the piano. While the guitar tracks tend to be the more driving songs, the piano ones can be bouncy like, “When The Morning Comes”, or ballads like “Nineteen Years Ago.” The latter of these is the most emotional song of the 11 tracks here. The subject matter of loss, grief, and remembrance is highlighted by the use of mostly piano and voice with some bass and a few keyboard effects building up at the end. The imagery contained in lines like, “Sitting in the car with the radio/Crying to an AM Station/That song was my salvation…” is magnified exponentially by Stranges’s voice. Emotionally, the song hits with the weight of something like James Taylor’s “Fire And Rain”; the pain comes through so clearly as the song reminds us all that the weight of such losses…and the memories of what made someone so special, can remain through the years.

The one fault that befalls some of the songs is that they run for a bit longer than they should. “Not That Bad At All” and “You Can’t Buy Happiness” are good songs that make their point, but then continue to make it when it’s no longer really necessary. All things considered though, this is but a mild quibble amongst a multitude of strengths that the album as a whole exhibits. To the positive, little things like the upbeat “Tonight” that comes joyfully near the closing, and the great little guitar solo on “Restoration Blues” are like buried gems that when unearthed, make the album such a joy to listen to.

Hello Me To You is a fantastic outing in Pop/Rock that leaves little left to be desired once the final song comes to a close. Victor Stranges reveals himself to be quite multi-talented as well with his performance on all the instruments being solid too great. Though Stranges did receive some help from Matt Swanton, by and large, this is Stranges’s effort, and it’s a labor of love that radiates character and talent. Elvis Costello comparisons will still be inevitable, but there’s no doubt that Hello Me To You is one of the best examples of how enjoyable and well done Pop/Rock can be.

Reviewed By Heath Andrews

CD Review Writers, Heath Andrews Hello Me To You, Victor Stranges

It’s very rare that an album can expose so much talent an individual has whilst most of that said individual’s work is not upfront on the album. Todd McNeal is responsible for all the writing and composition of his 2007 album All My Good Intentions; a consistent recording of pleasant jazz-pop music. For the most part, McNeal employs a standard jazz trio  of piano, bass and drums with accompanying vocals. This formula varies at times with some songs being simply piano and voice while others adding flute and trumpet.

The core musicians here are McNeal himself on piano and keyboards and vocalist Emma Lewendon. Lewendon was recruited from a folk trio called Kai, and her background in folk adds a great element to the music. Lewendon has a fantastically elegant voice that soars through each song, but also arrests the listeners attention to each and every note she sings. McNeal’s piano accompaniment is perfect for the songs. For the two tracks (three counting the bonus) which feature just piano and vocals, he plays enough to set the melody but allows Lewendon’s voice to carry it. Similarly, in the trio format, McNeal forms the backbone and allows the music to intertwine itself into a cohesive unit.

Sydney jazz musicians Dave Ellis and Lawrie Thompson make up the rhythm section on bass and drums respectively. If anything defines the jazz sound of the album, it’s their backing. Ellis’s acoustic bass coupled with Thompson’s light working of the cymbals instantly evokes the image of three jazz musicians jamming away on stage in a dimly lit club. The impeccable production lets the rhythm be heard clearly underneath the melodic duo of McNeal and Lewendon, allowing the songs to benefit from becoming the sum of its parts.

Unfortunately, the album is dragged slightly down by McNeal’s musical direction. By placing himself in the field between jazz and pop, the album won’t completely satisfy fans of either genre. The soft jazz, which really is the basis of the album, can become a little monotonous around the middle of the album since the tempo is consistently slow around this part. The fastest this album gets is towards the tail end with “Ride The Waves”. The 3/4 time signature pushes the track forward in a way that really starts to showcase the musicianship of the rhythm section, the rest of the album; it feels more as if they’re just relegated to keeping conventional time in a pop sense.

Pop fans will likely balk at the heavy jazz influences like on “Bird With The Burning Wings.” The jazzy beat and airy vocals carry on for a little over five minutes, during which the narrative of the song seems to lose focus. The band gels just as well as they do on every other song, but there’s not enough drive to keep the song poppy. Tracks like “Black Dog” and “Star”, both with flute and trumpet on the latter, help add a little something different to the music but it would’ve been nice to hear more of them throughout.

The only other factor that brings the album down at times is McNeal’s lyrics. More in line with the jazz nature of the album the lyrics are more free from the confines of pop and have a wistful quality highlighted by Lewendon’s rich voice. But on a track like “Count The Miles” where it’s just Lewendon and McNeal, every word matters. Lryics like “So many miles away from here/if i walk without stopping for coffee/still it would take three years” and a seeming non-sequitir about “Santa and his reindeer…” don’t fit wit the song itself. But then Lewendon sings a line like, “And I get so lonely I could count the nights…that lead me to your door” and suddenly McNeal’s writing is heart wrenchingly beautiful.

The title track and its alternate version that closes the album also highlights this strength, “sometimes i can feel you in the silence/reaching out to gently touch my hand”. The imagery is simple but engrossing. “Magnificent Mistake” – “What is left after all is said and done?/Just a hollow space where these words were sung.” Sublime, absolutely sublime. “Black Dog” – “I’ll throw a stick your way and shout hey, hey.” Not so much. The scattershot beauty of the lyrics is frustrating.

All My Good Intentions has the problem of being good to the point of posing a tremendous, “What if?” What if this fantastic group went with a full out jazz format? What if they threw pop conventions to the wind, improvised, played off each other, and just went wild? Or, what if they went to pure pop, tightened up the structures, polished up the lyrics, and let Lewendon’s voice really be the focal point? What McNeal delivers is good, but there’s so much potential to be had here that it feels nearly criminal to hear them straddle the line between two genres. Still, for a pop-jazz hybrid recording, it probably doesn’t get a heck of a lot better than this.

Reviewed By Heath Andrews

Heath Andrews, Reviews All My Good Intentions, Todd McNeal

The liner notes to Jennifer Lang’s 2009 album, 3 O’clock Saturday are peppered with thanks to God, tongue-in-cheek, crediting to herself and thanks to Cloyd R. Willis Jr. From this, it’s a bit tough to anticipate what’s going to play once the disc starts spinning. About one minute into the opening, “Jenny’s Groove”, everything becomes clear; Jennifer Lang is going to deliver a soulful collection of R&B tracks with passion.

Lang’s spiritual influences are rooted deep into her youth as she grew up singing in church and eventually began listening to the music of Aretha Franklin and Al Green. Fittingly enough, Lang’s voice is well described as an amalgamation of those two. Though she doesn’t display the range of Aretha (but who does?) she takes a bit of her power and combines it with the smoothness of Green. Lang’s songwriting plays well with her voice as much of the subject matter is fairly by the books. There’s a good deal of female empowerment and triumph over love and life’s pratfalls, (”Don’t Think On It”, and “Betcha Thought”) betrayal, (”You Said”, “I Don’t Understand) and hopeful numbers that round out the album’s sixty-minute running length (”Keep Your Head Up”, “I Don’t Know When It’s Coming”).

The songwriting is well done but on its own, seldom exceptional. More than anything, it’s sincere. Lang’s voice however is compelling whether it’s standing on its own, or superbly overdubbed like on “Falling in Love.” When she sings her self-penned lyrics, it lifts the songs to a level they wouldn’t otherwise reach. Her passion for her music is very much evident and it shines through on every song.

Though Lang’s name is the one on the cover, the album’s “secret weapon” of sorts is the aforementioned Cloyd R. Willis Jr. Willis is responsible for not only the production, but every instrument on the recording, including (but not limited to) Fender P-Bass, strings, vibes, flute, percussion, oboe, electric piano, soprano sax, organ, and French horn. The consistent stand-out is his bass playing. There’s not a song on here that doesn’t feature a tight bass groove. The drum programming though often leaves much to desire. As is typical with much modern R&B, it’s very mechanical and static. Given the dynamics of the rest of the music, real drums would’ve been a welcome addition to the mix.

Some of the album’s finest moments are when Lang deviates from the formulaic R&B to deliver performances that feature the influences of other genres. “Ya Keep Sayin” is almost a throwback to slow jazz. It’s easy to imagine this song being played in the confines of a smoky bar in a film noir. The album’s closer, “I Don’t Know When It’s Coming” is the most gospel influenced of the fourteen songs; a surprising oddity in how much Lang’s faith is displayed in the liner notes. Regardless, the placement of this song is impeccable; ending on a strong gospel note of hope and faith is a welcome turn-around from some of the darker images presented on earlier songs. Some more of this material would’ve made for a stronger album overall, but doesn’t really detract from it being a solid R&B album.

3 O’clock Saturday will be very well received by R&B fans. Lang’s voice is a great instrument, effectively produced by Willis throughout. What the album lacks in amazing songwriting it makes up for in a fantastic amount of sincerity and emotion. Safe to say, Lang has avoided the “sophomore slump” that artists can encounter and has turned out an album that she can be proud to thank God for helping her and Willis create.

Reviewed By Heath Andrews

Heath Andrews, Reviews 3 O'Clock Saturday, Jennifer Lang

When Greg Harding heard finger-styling guitar in concert, it changed his views on the guitar completely. Indeed the guitar is a more complex instrument then sometimes given credit for. Tonal qualities, playing styles, the type of guitar itself, and so many other factors combine to create a distinctive voice as unique and identifiable as a singer’s. Harding has discovered that when you let your fingers to the walking along the six-string, the sound it creates can carry itself across emotions, moods, and genres.

On his 2009 album, Colour Of My Skin, Greg Harding lays down 12 tracks of elegantly played guitar that drip with love for the instrument he plays. The love not only comes across in the way each note is played, but in the way they sound. Despite their being only two or three instruments on most of the tracks (guitar, modest percussion, occasional “midi instrument”) the sound of the album is lush and full. The guitar fills the space in a beautiful way, akin to Rick Rubin’s production with Johnny Cash and Neil Diamond. Since the star of the album is Harding’s playing, it’s fitting that the guitar be so prominent in the mix. Every note, every squeak along the frets, even some of his breaths comes through clearly.

The sound itself doesn’t vary widely through the album, but the subtlety in the playing does. A song like “The Beggars Daughter” has a more bluesy feeling than something like “Calypso” with its appropriate calypso influence. Despite being wonderful to hear Harding playing solo, it’s even more engaging to hear the interplay he has on some select tracks with other instruments. “Pumpkin’s Final Dance” features violin played by Ose Pedro and hearing it coalesce with Harding’s at once delicate and forceful picking is a true treat. The song falls about midway through the album, a perfect placement since it helps to break up an at times, slightly monotonous recording.

A bit of variety is also added by the two songs that feature vocals from Harding, “Waiting For…No Reply” and “Daydream.” Harding’s voice can be likened to Al Stewart’s in its tone, range, and delivery. “Waiting…” is the stronger of these two songs with Harding singing well within his range of a missed love and a longing to have them return. “There’s smoke in the firewood/when the wind comes to fan the flames”; the imagery is simple yet effective. “Daydream” is still a strong song with its touching refrain of “I find you in a daydream/as I will find myself as well”, sung against an emotional guitar track, though its marred slightly by Harding’s voice. Though he hits the notes, it sounds as if he’s hitting the very top of this range and comes across a little strained.

If there’s anything else that detracts from the album overall, it’s that sometimes the guitar playing is too busy. There are times during the album’s great opener, “Old Rosie”, where there are notes that seem to be just begging to be played out and held, but they’re only there for a fraction of a second before a flourish of notes overwhelmes it. This makes the album no less listenable, but more marks an opportunity for a more diverse sound which can only serve to strengthen Harding’s future efforts.

“Colour Of My Skin” is overall, a very-well constructed album. Though Harding’s record isn’t as varied as it could be, the subtle nuances are enough to keep things interesting. For popular music fans, Greg Harding’s intense finger-styling may be a bit too free-form and lacking a defined structure, but dedicated listeners will surely appreciate Harding’s talent for the guitar and the unique voice he displays on it.

Reviewed By Heath Andrews

Heath Andrews, Reviews Colour of My Skin, Greg Harding

As much as we’d like to think it is, music is not always a universal language. Someone exposed to nothing but bubble gum pop music is likely going to be thrown for a loop if they start listening to progressive rock. Admittedly, listening to time signature changes can be difficult and disorienting if someone is not used to it. Elements of the music can be lost in translation, and like with languages, the subtlety and wordplay fall on deaf ears. Where music has somewhat of an advantage though is that through repeated listenings, aspects of songs can become more and more apparent with time and effort. Though a drawback to this is whether or not someone wants this element in their music? Do we listen for immediate enjoyment, or do we listen to delve deeper into the depths of what music can offer?

Normally, I don’t write music reviews from the first person perspective, but in this case of Hui Ward’s The Way, I can’t effectively review it any other way. Ward has put a great deal of effort into this album, which is very ambitious in its scope and meaning. Ward describes the concept herself as, “The twelve note combinations correspond to the twelve time zones of a day starting from 7 p.m. to 9 p.m., like the time associations found in Northern Indian music. The chronological order of the enclosed twelve songs also coincides with the sequential order of twelve months with the twelve keys starting with B major on December 21, the winter solstice.” She also describes a deep spiritual meaning of the album as a conversation between her and the universal mother and a gateway of sorts that helps the listener find their way to a oneness with themselves and others.

As much as I would like to say that I grasp the concept, I just don’t hear it. That doesn’t mean its not there, just that it doesn’t show itself to me. All I can do is comment and critique the things that I do hear. For instance, the spiritual lyrics. The title track speaks beautifully of rebirth and being boundless in our lives. “Children Of God” expresses the universal mother concept with Ward singing the desire to return to the womb of the creator for the sake of humanity as a whole. The sincerity in the lyrics is evident, even though I personally think the call and response that Ward employs limits the depth of the songs.

The instrumentation is provided primarily by Pravin Godkhindi and H.N. Bhaskar on the Bansuri and Violin respectively. The string arrangements are thrilling, and Ward has done an excellent job in her compositions. Most anyone should be able to appreciate the beauty of the music itself, despite as Ward notes, the lack of chords as traditional Indian music does not contain them. What will really make or break this album for most listeners will be the use of Hui Ward’s voice. Her range is quite astounding as evident on “To Be”. The way she slides through notes, changes languages, breaks up syllables, emphasizes certain sounds, etc. is very unique, and to my ears, difficult to listen to though someone more versed in Indian music will likely appreciate her stylings a great deal.

The Way is definitely going to appeal to a niche market, mostly devoted music fans in the mood for something different, or more specifically, fans of Indian music. Sometimes the album threw me a curve ball in terms of incorporating other musical influences. “The Messenger” actually features a rather addictive little beat that I had not expected, yet works in the context of the music itself. Regardless, its not enough to bring the album to a mainstream audience. Most people will not listen to music time and again if they do not grasp it on a first listen, and this is one of those works that to me, is not instantly accessible.

I guess the best way I can summarize my feelings about Hui Ward’s The Way is by relating it to the time when I first listened to The Beatles’ album, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. When I heard the track, “Within You Without You”, and its heavy Indian influence I couldn’t listen to it. Even to this day I just skip the track because I don’t find it interesting or enjoyable. When I discussed this with some of my friends, I encountered different opinions. Though some of them agreed with me, others told me that I was missing out on a great song that they thought was one of the strongest pieces of the album. I find every track on Hui Ward’s The Way to be more enjoyable than “Within You Without You.” To me, that still doesn’t make it an album I’d listen to again and again, but I imagine it would be breath taking to those same friends who stood in defense of Harrison’s tribute to the music of India.

Reviewed By Heath Andrews

Heath Andrews, Reviews Hui Ward, The Way

If nothing else, Brad Marshall and Kevin Artz have possibly the most fortunate name pairing in popular music history; the kind of pairing that would’ve made its way onto the Tonight Show when Leno did his little skit with the wedding pairs. Marshall Artz. Brilliant! Fortunately though, Marshall Artz is more than just an awesome name, they’re a talented guitar duo with three albums to their credit. Their third, and latest, 2009’s Key is a consistenly pleasant album that may not amaze, but doesn’t disappoint either.

            Listeners hoping to hear some ferocious soloing or fingers tearing up the fret boards are not going to find it on Key since it focuses more on riffing and the interplay between two talented artists. The end result is a more tranquil experience that will appeal to soft rock fans, and guitar enthusiasts. More often than not, it feels like there’s capability for a song to break out into a rocking solo or pick up in intensity, but it doesn’t happen. Instead, it stays in the groove its created and churns along at a nice mid-tempo pacing.

            The strength of Marshall Artz is their dueling guitar styles and not, dual styles. Neither performer attempts to out do the other, instead their styles blend into each other to produce a melodious style with an easy listening vibe that flows beautifully. Both guitarists handle rhythm duties with Marshall also contributing lead and slide work and Artz throwing in fingerstyle guitar to boot. Artz is also responsible for varying up the album by performing lead vocals on four of the twelve songs and playing harmonica on another.

            The four songs with vocals, “In My Arms Again”, “Gotta Get Through”, “Nothing Artificial” and “Today” are still mostly vehicles for the guitar duets. The lyrics are nothing earth shattering and are rooted in the typical fair of love and life. Artz’s voice is decent enough for the songs but like the lyrics themselves, nothing spectacular. “Gotta Get Through” is the only song to feature percussion, and therefore is the most traditional sounding song on the album. At five minutes though, it’s a bit overly long for its purposes. This is the only song to have this problem, as the rest of the material is short, sweet, and doesn’t overstay its welcome. The importance of this quality can not be overstated in an album of this nature. Too often guitar duets can turn into meandering jam sessions that abandon structure in exchange for extended noodling. Marshall Artz’s avoidance of this pratfall is extremely welcome to this genre of music.

            Of the remainder of the album, “Raging River”, “Swamp Stomp”, and “Mad Groove” are the best tracks here. While most of Key is a mellow affair, these three songs offer some needed muscle that keeps things interesting. All of the names are quite fitting as well, “Raging River” does have a nice flow to it that may not exactly “rage”, but certainly conjures images of water being churned along a rocky path. “Mad Groove” similarly isn’t “mad” but it is a hell of a groove with some teeth to it. “Swamp Stomp” is the aforementioned song with Artz’s harmonica contributions, and the texture it adds is a great boon to the song itself, and the album in general.

            Marshall Artz is a solid duo, continuing to effectively showcase their talents here. Key never reaches any amazing heights, but it never sinks below being at the very least, pleasantly enjoyable. If it has one major flaw of sorts, it’s that it can sometimes be so content in its own groove that the listener may very well leave the album wondering what more the artists are capable of. But even this “what if” doesn’t detract from the solid, enjoyable effort put forth onto this disc.

Reviewed By Heath Andrews

Heath Andrews, Reviews Key, Marshall artz

As much as we’d like to think it is, music is not always a universal language. Someone exposed to nothing but bubble gum pop music is likely going to be thrown for a loop if they start listening to progressive rock. Admittedly, listening to time signature changes can be difficult and disorienting if someone is not used to it. Elements of the music can be lost in translation, and like with languages, the subtlety and wordplay fall on deaf ears. Where music has somewhat of an advantage though is that through repeated listenings, aspects of songs can become more and more apparent with time and effort. Though a drawback to this is whether or not someone wants this element in their music? Do we listen for immediate enjoyment, or do we listen to delve deeper into the depths of what music can offer?

Normally, I don’t write music reviews from the first person perspective, but in this case of Hui Ward’s The Way, I can’t effectively review it any other way. Ward has put a great deal of effort into this album, which is very ambitious in its scope and meaning. Ward describes the concept herself as, “The twelve note combinations correspond to the twelve time zones of a day starting from 7 p.m. to 9 p.m., like the time associations found in Northern Indian music. The chronological order of the enclosed twelve songs also coincides with the sequential order of twelve months with the twelve keys starting with B major on December 21, the winter solstice.” She also describes a deep spiritual meaning of the album as a conversation between her and the universal mother and a gateway of sorts that helps the listener find their way to a oneness with themselves and others.

As much as I would like to say that I grasp the concept, I just don’t hear it. That doesn’t mean its not there, just that it doesn’t show itself to me. All I can do is comment and critique the things that I do hear. For instance, the spiritual lyrics. The title track speaks beautifully of rebirth and being boundless in our lives. “Children Of God” expresses the universal mother concept with Ward singing the desire to return to the womb of the creator for the sake of humanity as a whole. The sincerity in the lyrics is evident, even though I personally think the call and response that Ward employs limits the depth of the songs.

The instrumentation is provided primarily by Pravin Godkhindi and H.N. Bhaskar on the Bansuri and Violin respectively. The string arrangements are thrilling, and Ward has done an excellent job in her compositions. Most anyone should be able to appreciate the beauty of the music itself, despite as Ward notes, the lack of chords as traditional Indian music does not contain them. What will really make or break this album for most listeners will be the use of Hui Ward’s voice. Her range is quite astounding as evident on “To Be”. The way she slides through notes, changes languages, breaks up syllables, emphasizes certain sounds, etc. is very unique, and to my ears, difficult to listen to though someone more versed in Indian music will likely appreciate her stylings a great deal.

The Way is definitely going to appeal to a niche market, mostly devoted music fans in the mood for something different, or more specifically, fans of Indian music. Sometimes the album threw me a curve ball in terms of incorporating other musical influences. “The Messenger” actually features a rather addictive little beat that I had not expected, yet works in the context of the music itself. Regardless, its not enough to bring the album to a mainstream audience. Most people will not listen to music time and again if they do not grasp it on a first listen, and this is one of those works that to me, is not instantly accessible.

I guess the best way I can summarize my feelings about Hui Ward’s The Way is by relating it to the time when I first listened to The Beatles’ album, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. When I heard the track, “Within You Without You”, and its heavy Indian influence I couldn’t listen to it. Even to this day I just skip the track because I don’t find it interesting or enjoyable. When I discussed this with some of my friends, I encountered different opinions. Though some of them agreed with me, others told me that I was missing out on a great song that they thought was one of the strongest pieces of the album. I find every track on Hui Ward’s The Way to be more enjoyable than “Within You Without You.” To me, that still doesn’t make it an album I’d listen to again and again, but I imagine it would be breath taking to those same friends who stood in defense of Harrison’s tribute to the music of India.

Reviewed By Heath Andrews

Heath Andrews, Reviews Hui Ward, The Way

Something that becomes immediately clear in the first thirty seconds of Jeremy & Rebecca’s album What We Leave Behind, is that Rebecca Hendrickson has an incredible voice that crosses musical genres. Further listening (and some reading of liner notes) reveals that Jeremy Hendrickson is a remarkably good producer and he has crafted an immaculate sounding record. A husband and wife duo, the Hendrickson’s collection of twelve songs touch warmly upon topics of love, family, legacy, faith and testaments to the appreciation they share for each other. Despite the glaringly personal nature of many of the songs, the themes are accessible for any listener of pop/rock, country, and gospel, as elements of all these sounds feature in the sound of the album itself, and Rebecca’s voice.

The list of musicians on this album is staggering, what with all the strings, saxophones and vocal choirs that are employed to give each song a full and anthemic kind of sound. The second track, “Flyer”, actually could’ve functioned as an instrumental considering the swirling sound of violins and saxophones that create a sense of flight. Fortunately, Rebecca’s powerful voice fits in beautiful, culminating in a stunning moment where her voice soars into a saxophone solo…and just for a brief instance, the two sounds become one, and then their own.

But stripping away the extensive production features still leaves a solid trio of musicians, generally consisting of Jonathan Hendrickson (brother) on drums, Paul Serpa on guitars, and Matt Mangano on bass. Jonathan’s drum sound is crisp and never more powerful than necessary for the song at hand; a very important feature of his playing since it could otherwise drown out one of the multitude of other instruments. Serpa is primarily responsible for the album’s rock edge. His solos can snarl out notes amongst a gospel choir and not feel out of place, instead adding a nice intensity to the music.

Aside from being the album’s producer, Jeremy Hendrickson is also the songwriter. While the music itself is consistently strong, the lyrics aren’t always at that level. When the two are taken together, there’s a very nice synergy that gets created. So even if the words have nothing new or revolutionary to say about love, it all sounds fresh when the astonishing arrangements take hold. Rebecca’s voice is also a vital instrument in conveying the songs. The way she belts out every phrase is extraordinary.

Jeremy takes lead vocals for a couple songs, and though his voice is nice and pleasant, it doesn’t have the bristling energy of Rebecca’s. This reveals some of the weakness in a song like “How I Love You” where the segues from verse to chorus are a little jolting, and the rhyming of “enough” with “enough” becomes overbearing. A similar situation arises with “Tallest Tree”, but the song is ultimately saved by a spectacular string arrangement. When Jeremy and Rebecca duet, (Title track, Made To Love You, Why Strive) is when Jeremy’s voice is at its best, with the first of these duets being one of the best songs on the album.

What We Leave Behind is a strong first outing for this beautiful sounding duo. From the opening country rocker of “Fool”, to the surprisingly slow jazz closer of “Have You Got The Time”, there’s a lot to enjoy here, thanks to the remarkable talents of a husband and wife with a love for each other and a love for music that all come together for a delightful musical experience.

Reviewed By Heath Andrews

Heath Andrews, Reviews Jeremy and Rebecca, What We Leave Behind