Kevin Wilson has been an integral part of the Florida heavy metal scene for more than a decade, writing and playing guitar for Liar, Astaroth and Lucian Blaque, which was nominated by both the Tampa Bay Music Awards and Tampa Bay Metal Awards as Metal Band of the year two and three times, respectively. Wilson himself was nominated once for Metal Guitarist of the year.  As most things do, Lucian Blaque ran its course, and Wilson found himself in a period of reassessing his goals.  The result of that contemplation is Wilson’ debut solo album, Self Portrait.  Comprised of fifteen original songs, Self Portrait features Wilson’s softer, singer-songwriter side on nine tracks, but also shows his hard edge on the six tracks on the second disc.

Self Portrait opens with “On The Lake”, a solid slice of melodic rock with great lead and harmony vocals.  “On The Lake” has great energy but doesn’t bowl this listener over with it.  It’s a song of reverence for time and place, with hope, peace and comfort wrapped in one focal point.  “Winter In Paradise” shows off some guitar muscle in the middle of a fairly gentle rocker.  Wilson has great feel on the guitar, culling musical streams out of the arrangement as if peeling back layers to show you what is beneath.  “Scars” is a mellow acoustic rocker that sounds a bit like a power ballad but never explodes into full sound like many power ballads do.  The vocal harmonies here are tremendous.  Wilson takes his cue from some of the big triad harmonies popular among arena-rock bands like Styx, Journey, Asia and Kansas in a song about salvation and moving on.

“Self Portrait” is rather bland for a title track, lacking real energy and suffering from a whiney vocal line.  Wilson’s guitar work is a highlight here, however.  “What If” explores existential angst about the future in contemplative fashion, using a mellow arrangement that hides country music threads in the musical seams.  Wilson seeks rebirth and renewal on “September Comes”, a song about moving beyond the restrictions and fears we trap ourselves in.  “September Comes” features a light airy melody that is almost a foil to the heavy emotional makeup of the song.  This irony is enhanced as Wilson seeks rebirth in a season known for the beginning of decay.  “Pictures” is lush, but not dramatically so, again going for the big vocal harmonies in an Asia-meets-Alan Parsons vibe that’s surprisingly good.

Disc two features material that will feel more at home to Wilson’s fans from his heavy rock and metal days.  He starts out with blues based rock n roll on “Whiskey”, an entertaining monologue decrying the spirit’s effect on him.  It’s a solid tune that’s likely to be a live favorite.  “16 Days” keeps the blues/rock sound, but adds a somewhat darker tone with real movement and energy that’s an enjoyable listen.  “Hellhole” finds Wilson digging into a heavier sound.  Lyrically and melodically the song is average, but Wilson’s guitar work is very much worth checking out.  “Who I Am” and “Angry Again” continue the barrage with darker tones and heavier guitar work, culminating in “A Tale Of Woe”.  “A Tale Of Woe” wants to be a heavy metal anthem and has all the needed elements.  Wilson has stripped the song down a bit, perhaps to avoid overwhelming the folks who enjoyed the mainstream lean of disc one.  The true metal heads out there will appreciate “A Tale Of Woe”, but you’ll be wishing for a louder and heavier take.

You might expect that Kevin Wilson’s heavier material would be more outstanding than the lighter fare, but Self Portrait defies expectations.  Wilson shows himself to have a keen ear for melody and harmony while stripping away the metal accoutrements he generally creates with.  Wilson calls on the influences of his youth, blending a mellow mien with the sounds of 1980’s rock scions and a bit of guitar muscle to create a sound that’s not exactly new, but novel enough and well-crafted enough to catch your ear.  The heavier material on Self Portrait is surprisingly mundane; Wilson seems to abandon his more melodic tendencies here but also strips the sound down, robbing the songs of their more vociferous and angry natures.  Self Portrait is likely to gain Wilson a number of new fans, but may not satisfy some of his established followers.

Review by Wildy Haskell

Reviews, Wildy Haskell Kevin Wilson, Self Portrait

Waking Ugly is the long-running covert operation of musical secret agents Lydia Gardner and Darren Pace.  The Melbourne, Australia-based duo are set to blow their cover this fall with a five-song self-titled EP full of some of the tastiest pop music to emerge from down under in a generation.  The seeds of Waking Ugly were germinated back in 2004, with Gardner and Pace tiring of the same old pop formula offered up through popular media and resolving to change the world.  With an unspecified November release date for the EP, Waking Ugly appear set to go from unknown to full-blown practically overnight.

Waking Ugly opens with what will be the EP’s first single, “You Know You Wanna”, a super-charged pop/rock hybrid that’s pure gold.  Waking Ugly reminds listeners it’s never too late to chase your dreams in a sugar-coated electro-pop/rock arrangement that could find a home on pop, dance, and rock charts.  Lydia Gardner is an amped front woman with a voice you could listen to for days on end.  The instrumental bed that Gardner and Pace establish here offers a full sound that imparts melody without the aural clutter that often accompanies modern pop music.  “Must Be Love” is an altruistic love song full of the romance of young love over a mild dance beat.  The mix is interesting, as Waking Ugly show a knack for crafting viable pop songs that don’t give in to cliché and are as catchy as the flu in an elevator.

Waking Ugly call out the modern consumer culture on “Zombies”, noting how society blinds itself to experience in a storm of consumption and greed.  This serious subject is given an ironic touch and delivered in a pure pop/rock arrangement that will stick in your head for days.  “Girlfriend” blends Europop and rock in a song about attraction for all the wrong reasons.  “Girlfriend” is the edgiest track on the disc, with a heavier sound than Waking Ugly has shown to this point, and may be the sleeper hit of the bunch.  Don’t be surprised if a licensing agreement lands this song on a movie or television soundtracks on multiple continents.  Waking Ugly says goodbye (for now) with “Guess It’s Over”, a breakup song of epic proportions.  It’s a mature and measured look at the aftermath wrapped up in a monster melody and delivered in a reserved and poignant arrangement that should light up program director’s imaginations at adult rock and pop stations across the globe.

Waking Ugly is the real deal, a throwback to the days when pop music was fun to listen to.  Even when they injects social conscience into their songs, the arrangements are so infectious and enjoyable that you can overlook the severity if you’re so inclined.  Waking Ugly offers something for everyone here, and shows a depth and maturity that’s unusual in such a pop-oriented debut.  Waking Ugly has been toiling in their laboratory for six years now, and it seems likely that there’s a lot more where this came from.  We’ll be waiting with bated breath.

Review by Wildy Haskell

Reviews, Wildy Haskell Waking Ugly

Leyla Fences is an Argyle, Texas singer/songwriter who strives to get back to the roots of modern country music while writing lyrics that are up-to-date and relevant to day-to-day life.  Eschewing the “happily ever after” tone of modern pop-country, Fences uses her music to talk about real life situations, broken hearts, cheating partners, and losing life to work while keeping the female perspective front and center.  She doesn’t have a perfect voice, and doesn’t varnish it with corrective software, keeping her performances as real as her lyrics.  For all these reasons, her debut album, Liars, Cheats & Fools is refreshing.

Liars, Cheats & Fools opens with “Let Him Go”, a highly danceable bit of rockin’ country about cutting your losses and moving on.  It’s an entertaining opener and has enough life to it to catch the attention of country radio program directors.  Fences is in fine voice on the opener, although her sound shows a lack of training and breath control.  In this case her vocal idiosyncrasies do more to make her memorable than turn listeners away.  “Hardly Livin’” is an ode to working class perseverance and the sacrifices it brings.  It’s a mildly danceable tune with a solid backbeat and some impressive piano fills around the edges.  “The Net” is a positively themed song about taking chances to make your dreams come true.  It’s a decent tune, although it smacks of self-help cliché.

Fences gives the kiss-off to a two-timer who has come around again on “Love Doesn’t Work Like That”.  While the vocal line shows off Fences’ weak spots, the song is catchy enough and has enough guts to become an anthem for those who have been part of a romantic yo-yo relationship.    “Dancing With You” is a mellow country love song, solid and a bit typical of the genre.  It’s a decent song but the pacing feels heavy.  “Upside Blues” is a pure drinking anthem for the sore-hearted, danceable with an anthem feel, allowing for whatever methods it takes to get over a loss.  “The Other Side” voices “the grass is always greener” from the perspective of a mom, and offers one of the more difficult vocal lines to listen to on the album.  The song itself is heaped with cliché; well-written, but predictable to a fault.

“The Fool” touches on infidelity and tit-for-tat exchanges in a cynical game of one-upmanship that feels somewhat flat.  The arrangement is energetic enough, but the lyrics and vocal line don’t quite have the vitality to match.  “Maybe” is classic waffling over a relationship.  It’s one of the more emotionally authentic songs on the album and reflects well on Leyla Fences.  “Two’s A Crowd” works well as a declaration of self, espousing the concept that you don’t need to be in a relationship to be happy.  “Two’s A Crowd” has an innate pop sensibility that will inspire you to hit repeat.  Fences closes with “Life Is Funny”, a mildly catchy tune that’s too straight-forward to really hit with the listener.

Leyla Fences has a voice that you’ll remember after you’ve heard it once.  It’s most-always a pleasant one to listen to, although Fences does show a lack of vocal training in trills, runs and anywhere else where her vocalizations require a high level of breath control.  Her deep alto and distinct nasal qualities create an intriguing sound, and from a songwriting perspective, much of Liars, Cheats & Fools is solid.  Fences may not be the most poetic or romantic lyricist in the world, and her style may not fit the CMT paradigm these days, but the classic sound and unvarnished approach is going to appeal to a lot of the regular fans out there that wonder “what happened to country music?”

Review by Wildy Haskell

Reviews, Wildy Haskell & Fools, Cheats, Leyla Fences, Liars

Adam Hardcastle is musician, composer, student and teacher based in Victoria, Australia.  Previously located in Adelaide, Hardcastle composed music for numerous films and musical theater while there.  Along the way, Hardcastle has played WOMAD and Big Day Out, toured extensively and had regular gigs around Adelaide.  These days music is more of a social exercise; more about getting together to play, write and record with friends.  To that end, Hardcastle decided to take some of the material he’d written for other projects years before and recast them as an organic whole.  The resulting album is called Stille, and the six songs offered therein all have one common connector: Hardcastle wrote them while traveling.  Hardcastle has some talented friends along for the ride: Jed Palmer – percussion (Bergerac); Todd Hutchinson – bass (We All Want To); Dan Pash – clarinet (Leader Cheetah); Gerry Masi – chants (Lucifer’s Lounge) and cellist Natasha Darke all help craft the unique and melancholy sound of Stille.

Stille opens with “Summer Afternoon”, a musical contemplation of personal histories, broken hearts and the failure we all suffer in seeing how to connect the dots.  This could be a song written from the midst of heartbreak, but has a much older feel, like a lingering heartbreak that you worry over for years.  “Summer Afternoon” is steeped in its own sense of depression and desperation as the narrator continues to search for an answer, one he hopes (secretly otherwise) will lead to reconciliation.  “The Sky’s The Same” is like aboriginal hip-hop filtered through the musical lens of Pink Floyd; Hardcastle points out that despite the distances and differences of people we all live underneath the same sky; whether this is a practical or philosophical observation is left to the listener to divine.

Hardcastle takes Beat Poetry into the baroque parlor with bass, Theremin, cello and percussion on “Of Truth And Anguish”, exploring his own imperfections in the scope of unmet needs and bad choices as it pertains to relationships.  It’s a plodding contemplation that runs 6:30 and takes real stamina to get through.  Hardcastle’s vocal line follows the stentorian rhythm of the bass line, having affect but no real zest.  While this speaks more to the mood of the song than the performance, it is tough to stay with.  “The Stoning” is a brilliant musical exploration, taking the narrator from first person memory of acts committed to the hazy winter of denial over four stanzas of justice run amok.  The pacing here is in line with the plodding feel of the rest of the EP, but Hardcastle strikes gold this time around with a sociological construct that may hit a too close to home if you think about it hard enough.

“Masse” finds Hardcastle ruminating on the advantages of the digital age and the seemingly counter-intuitive effects it has on society as a whole.  Using an anachronistic arrangement bracketed by faux-tribal chants, there’s perhaps a suggestion that the more civilized and interconnected we become the baser our instincts.  It’s an intriguing composition where the words are more whispered and sung over a repetitive riff and percussion.  “Masse” is different enough to catch your attention and carries enough implications to keep it.  Hardcastle closes with an epic bit of baroque electro-psychedelia entitled “Dazed”.  Clocking in at 11:29, Hardcastle explores the vast canvas of life and death across an uncharted expanse of ambient of minimalist musical composition.

Adam Hardcastle’s melancholy is pervasive on Stille.  Contemplating concepts such as home, death, life and change, Hardcastle has cast the experience of life in dark tones that reverberate through simplistic, repetitive and sometimes seemingly boundless musical canvases.  Hardcastle’s voice does melancholy the way Michael Stipe does angst; it’s a sound that should be copyrighted and used only for the purpose of good.  Stille is a good purpose, even if Hardcastle occasionally lingers too long over his subject.  This music isn’t for everyone; Hardcastle makes Robert Smith look like a happy fellow, but his songwriting is thought-provoking and clean of pretense.  It’s a refreshing, if sometimes depressing experience.

Review by Wildy Haskell

Reviews, Wildy Haskell Adam Hardcastle, Stille

While born in Sydney, Australia, Iona Leigh grew up in the Scottish highlands, listening to her mother’s new age music collection while living in spiritually communal eco-village.  With comparisons to artists such as Loreena McKennitt and Deva Premal, Leigh is establishing herself as a significant new voice in new age music.  Iona’s most recent album, Wild By Nature, was produced by the legendary Medwyn Goodall and released on his MG Music Ltd. label during the spring of 2010.  Leigh performs all vocals on the album and Goodall does everything else.

Wild By Nature opens with “Nature’s Lament”, featuring the poetry of William Wordsworth.  Leigh’s vocal line is gorgeous and Goodall’s arrangement is brilliant, but at 7:38 the song does drone on a bit.  “Elemental Spirits” has more of a new age/pop feel; it’s a ballad to creation in its most primal forms from a spiritual perspective.  The chorus works well, although the verses are a bit locked into form and repetitive.  “Here And Now” is a gentle statement of metaphysical being; a declaration of being prepared to enjoy life’s experiences in their fullest measure.  It’s a pretty song absent tension or contrast.

Leigh pays tribute to a British warrior-queen with “Queen Boadicea”, recounting in artful terms the historical figure who led an uprising against the Roman army in 60-61 AD that led to Rome temporarily evacuating Britain.  Leigh certainly owes some of her atmospherics here to Enya with a pop arrangement that sticks close to her new age roots.  Leigh creates a musical mural of earth in naturalist terms with “Colour Of The Earth” recounting the seasons and creatures that make up the world as a series of interconnected thoughts.  The arrangement and melody are pretty, and the passive narrative is contemplative in nature.  The lack of a prime motivation or mover in the song may lose some listeners, however.  “Visions For Life” encourages the sort of inner peace to be found in visions and dreams.  It’s something of a new age “Imagine” as done by Enya or Loreena McKennitt rather than Lennon.

Iona Leigh finds something like an edge on “Banish The Storm” in a gently volatile melody with dark undertones.  It’s by far the most intriguing melody and arrangement on the album and Leigh is inspired to open her voice up a bit more than normal here.  “Banish The Storm” carries a positive message, but delivers it without the saccharine coating that often pervades new age music and philosophy.  “Eyes Of The Soul” is a sweet love song that dances liberally on the border of cliché (and crosses the boundary once or twice).  It’s a sweet number that is perhaps a bit too gentle to make it as a pop ballad but has all the necessary elements lyrically and melodically.  “Ocean Of Dreams” borrows from the Brookstone sound catalog at opening but subsides into a musical whitewash of synthesizer sounds beneath the comely voice of Iona Leigh.  Leigh invests the song with a sense of peace that pervades the album as a whole even while the energy of the song seems stuck on auto at times.  Wild By Nature closes with the Gregorian Chant-like “Prayer For Trees”, an ethereal and lovely tune that’s more of a prayer of thanks to trees than for them.  It’s Leigh’s most affecting vocal performance of the album.

Iona Leigh certainly has the voice to be a major player in new age music.  I don’t believe there’s anyone out there who will question Medwyn Goodall’s credentials when it comes to new age music either.  Together they create pretty works that sound great but lack any real spice or zeal.  Leigh’s voice is lovely, but that beauty comes at the price of lacking zest or zeal in the performance.  It’s not a question of whether such things are there, but whether anyone listening at home can tell.  Likewise, Goodall’s arrangements are beautiful, but the chemistry that one presumes brought Leigh and Goodall together to write and perform Wild By Nature just doesn’t translate on the album.  Perhaps it shows up live, but it’s apparent that Goodall was too involved in the creation of the album to hear it clearly as a producer.  What could be striking is merely pretty; what could be dynamic is rendered plain.

Review by Wildy Haskell

Reviews, Wildy Haskell Iona Leigh, Wild by Nature

Molly Knight is a world-renowned pianist with piano performance degrees from the Cincinnati Conservatory Of Music and the University Of Washington.  She has studied with such renowned teachers as Gaby Casadesus, Bela Siki, Elizabeth Pridonoff and Jacques Rouvier.  Along the way, Knight won the Diplome de Virtuosite at the Schola Cantorum in Paris, where she also taught piano.  Knight has been cited for her nuance by no less august a publication than Paris’ Le Monde, and has thrilled audiences on two continents both as an accompanist and as a solo concert pianist.  In 2009, Knight released her solo album, The Art Of The Dance, crossing three centuries to display her musical depth and ingenuity.

Knight opens The Art Of The Dance with Johan Sebastian Bach’s French Suite No. 5 In G Major (BWV 816; 1722-1723), in which her fingers dance with all the joy at the universe that seems to inflect Bach’s finest works.  Knight has a light touch at the keyboard and uses powerfully dynamic phrasing to highlight every nook and cranny of the opening movement, “Allemande”.  “Courante” is much more mechanical in sound, although this appears to be more of an artistic choice than a deficit.  In the meantime the finger work here is amazing, particularly in Knight’s left hand.  By the time Knight crests the third movement, “Sarabande”, her play has become much more legato and interpretive, while allowing her more emotive tendencies to shine through.

“Gavotte” (Movement 4) is more transitional, sounding like the sort of music you might hear in a movie scene featuring a baroque parlor party.  Knight does sound a bit rushed at times both here and in “Bouree” (Movement 5), but it’s an inspired rush that seems essential to the mood of the piece.  “Louree” (Movement 6) finds Knight stepping back just a bit and interpreting a bit more, adding a refined touch to a sometimes halting and pensive composition.  Knight returns to Bach’s headlong style of play on “Gigue” (Movement 7), performing the sort of finger acrobatics that cause lesser pianists to retire in shame.

Next she tackles Edvard Grieg’s “Holberg Suite, Op. 40″ (1884), performed as originally written for solo piano.  The “Holberg Suite” was written by Grieg for the bicentennial of playwright Ludvig Holberg’s birth, and makes use of 18th century dance forms.  Knight imbues the first movement, “Prelude”, with power and majesty that are perhaps surprising.  “Sarabande” is much the opposite, a quiet, thoughtful piece with a hymn-like mien.  What stands out most here and elsewhere on the album is Molly Knight’s phrasing, which it is difficult to find sufficient superlatives to describe.  “Gavotte” (Movement 3) has a jaunty air, playing like the first blush of spring, while “Air” (Movement 4) has a funereal feel that is palpable.  Knight ties it all together with “Rigaudon” (Movement 5), an inspired dance that takes on a life of its own.

Knight’s interpretation of 3 movements of Enrique Granados’ “Spanish Dances” is technically superb and full of life, but pales in comparison to her reading of Maurice Ravel’s “Valses Nobles Et Sentimentales”, where she emotes with license both the dark and light in one of Ravel’s finest works.  Written in 1911, “Valses Nobles Et Sentimentales” combines modernist and impressionist styles in a series of waltzes that may have been Ravel’s greatest creative passions.  It’s apparent that Knight understands this, as her performance of the eight waltzes Ravel wrote under this title is inspired and magical.  When this piece first premiered in 1911 it was met with a chorus of catcalls and boos because of the then-ahead of its time use of dissonance as a harmonic construct.  Knight makes the most of these moments, playing out each moment of tension for all its worth, thus giving the moments of resolution much greater power when they come.

Pianist Molly Knight takes listeners on quite a tour on The Art Of The Dance, traveling from the Baroque Period up through the nascent days of the twentieth century.  The versatility of style and demeanor that Knight displays is manifest, seemingly bringing her Boesendorfer to life.  Throughout, it’s Knight’s phrasing that wins the day, with moments both pensive and passionate ringing so clearly it’s as if Knight taught her piano to talk.  The Art Of The Dance is an album any serious classical music aficionado will relish, but it’s accessible to the novice as well.  Prepare to be enthralled by the depth of Molly Knight.

Review written by Wildy Haskell

Reviews, Wildy Haskell Molly Knight, The Art of the Dance

Matthew Fogle didn’t grow up with music the way many singer-songwriters do.  The Louisville, Kentucky native started his odyssey ten years ago by singing melodies into a cassette recorder.  Over a short period of time Fogle had accumulated so many original tunes he was inspired to buy an acoustic guitar.  With very little musical knowledge but a lot of motivation, Fogle turned into a prolific and capable songwriter in a short stretch of time.  After eight years playing secular music, Matthew Fogle was bitten by the Contemporary Christian Music bug.  Jump forward to November of 2009, with Fogle entering Franklin, Tennessee’s Dark Horse Studios and laying down five original Contemporary Christian tunes under the guiding hand of producer Chris Mara.  The result is Fogle’s latest EP, Plea:491.

Plea:491 is carried by the courage of Matthew Fogle’s convictions.  Fogle wears his heart on his sleeve, professing love, adoration and fealty to God, all the while struggling against a tendency toward awkward lyrical turns and a voice that occasionally does its own thing with regard to pitch.  Fogle writes catchy tunes with solid arrangements that run the gamut from folk to rock n roll.  Plea:491 opens with “God Of Power And Might”, a catchy worship song set in a solid acoustic-rock arrangement.  Fogle’s convictions are clear, but he does struggle mightily with his breath control and phrasing, particularly at the end of phrases.  “Come Back Source” is offered up in a simple rock arrangement, and is another solid worship tune but is not likely to find much traction outside of fans of worship music.  It’s a catchy, danceable tune but the lyrical approach is child-like in its simplicity and occasional awkward turns of phrase.

“Garden Flame” features a good, strong melody, but Fogle’s vocal issues are more apparent here than elsewhere on the album.  This is the strongest songwriting on the album, but anyone with any sort of ear for pitch will have a hard time getting by the melodic inconsistencies to hear the song for what it is.  Fogle brings a more muscular guitar sound on “Splashdown”, but this approach turns out to be at-odds with the song itself.  “Splashdown” calls out for rescue.  Fogle closes out with “You’ll Be There”, which sounds like a heartfelt paean to a loved one who’s already passed beyond the veil.  While full of emotion, some of the lyrical turns are so awkward (”and we’ll watch the sun to set“) as to a major distraction.  “You’ll Be There” wins points for heart and for a truly decent melody, but wipes them away with the awkward lyrical fumbling that melody is married to.

Listening to Plea:491, it seems clear that Matthew Fogle allows his inner voice clear rein in the melody and arrangement departments, but tries too hard to fit his own lyrical creations into the gifts of his muse.  Musically, Fogle is a solid composer with a penchant for simplistic but catchy folk/rock arrangements.  Fogle’s voice is decent, and while he struggles with pitch at times, such things can be overcome with catchy songs and an unfettered authorial voice.  Fogle’s not there yet, but Plea:491 does show some promise; it’s a decent worship album that won’t find much traction outside of that market.

Review by Wildy Haskell

Reviews, Wildy Haskell Matthew Fogle, Plea:491

Boston’s The Gravel Project is the brainchild of first-call guitarist Andrew Gravel.  A Boston native, Gravel previously lived for three years in Australia and then London, where he played with some of the brightest stars on the London Blues scene.  Back in the U.S., Gravel was the guitarist of Entrain before forming The Gravel Project.  With their distinctive mix of rock, funk and blues, The Gravel Project have become favorites in Boston, regularly playing to packed houses in venues such as The Middle East, Church, and Tommy Doyles.  Their debut album, More Ways Than One seeks to capture the live energy of the band in the studio.

More Ways Than One opens with a Muscle Shoals-influenced blue rock paean to the Great Recession and the greed that ignited it.  The Gravel Project shows they are the total package right out of the gate.  Gravel is top notch on vocals and guitar, and the Hammond makes a serious first impression.  “Too Many Drivers” is a tongue-in-cheek discussion of who’s in charge, sprinkled with innuendo and gentle misdirection that’s as entertaining as the great blues/rock arrangement.  The Gravel Project finds a bit of magic on “Arugula Politics” with a funky, sassy horn/guitar combo.  The song is highly danceable, but The Gravel Project sticks with the theme a bit too long.

“I’ll Cry Instead” is an absolutely brilliant Beatles cover done in pure funk.  The Gravel Project does the near-impossible with the Beatles classic; they make it their own without compromising the essential character or feel of the original.  From The Beatles to Pink Floyd, a David Gilmour ambience is the focal point of “Mindstream”, with ambient, dreamy guitar playing the foil to a shifting bed of sound.  “My Baby” is a classic-sounding blues love song, definite mix-tape material.  Gravel nails the vocal line, and the song is eminently listenable even if it does cross the cliché line pretty seriously.  More Ways Than One closes with “Blues For L.A.”, juxtaposing a lyric vocal line with a gritty blues rock tune.

More Ways Than One turns out to be a highly enjoyable listening experience with a few kinks and wrinkles.  The Gravel Project plays tight, blues-influenced rock n roll that explodes with energy.  Andrew Gravel is a highly capable front man, driving the band forward with a reclusive yet energetic style that’s not to be missed on CD, but is probably best served on stage.  Perhaps what is most impressive is that Gravel and his cohorts treat the blending of Blues, Funk and Rock as reverently as if it were its own distinct art form.  More Ways Than One is the first stop on a long journey for The Gravel Project.  It’s perhaps not an album you will listen to all the time, but it is one you’ll keep coming back to again and again.

Review by Wildy Haskell

Reviews, Wildy Haskell

Earl J. Rivard, III has built a life by making the most of his gifts and not allowing roadblocks to stop him from achieving his dreams.  The Alameda, California resident has become a top-notch, highly courted performer in California in spite of being blinded and partially paralyzed as an infant by a drunk driver.  Nevertheless, Rivard showed a musical proclivity from the age of three.  His father, Earl J. Rivard, Jr. took his son under his wing, playing with Earl III until it became clear that Earl III had blossomed.  Singing in a wonderfully soulful voice in English, Spanish and Italian, Rivard breaks down barriers for others as easily as he has for himself.  Whether singing rock n roll, soul or troubadour folk, Rivard commands attention.  Rivard will soon release his sophomore album, Underground Railroad, a stunning testament to perseverance.

Underground Railroad opens with the title track, a soulful and politically-charged missive in song taking American immigration policy to task.  Rivard calls for the creation of an underground network to help those crossing from Mexico into the US to circumvent US policy, singing passionately and with conviction.  “Underground Railroad” perhaps ignores the fact that such networks already exist and continuously do battle with the limits that are in place.  Musically, the song is well written, and for a passion-perspective it’s convincing, but the inattention to detail makes the song less compelling.  “Till I Met You” is a heartfelt but languid ballad that is pretty but lacking a bit in energy.  Rivard shows two distinct sides here: in his upper range he could almost pass for a soulful Garth Brooks, but in his lower range he sounds a great deal like Taye Diggs.

“Coldest Place” is a sorrowful ballad that confirms Rivard’s weakness.  The man has an amazing voice, but on the more lyric vocal parts he tends at times to lose the energy that sustains such songs, particularly on long, slow passages.  “The Sun Finally Rose” finds Rivard turning the corner with a jubilant celebration of finding love after heartache.  Delivered as a pop/Americana tune, “The Sun Finally Rose” is great musical poetry.  On “Nobody Knows”, Rivard offers a theatrical presentation of a song about a runaway.  You’ll swear this song must have come from some obscure but promising off-Broadway musical, and Rivard’s vocal reading is impressive beyond words.

“Magdalena” finds Rivard dealing in Spanish, and offering up guitar work that’s bound to draw comparisons to the great Carlos Santana.  Wit shines through “Unfinished Songs”, a tongue-in-cheek paean to anyone who’s ever been or tried to be a songwriter.  The song is full of snarky touches from the doo-wop background singers to the somewhat predictable yet still amusing ending.  Rivard stakes his reputation on being something of a troubadour, and lives up to the billing on “Lady, Sweet Lady”.  Sounding like an arrangement that might have originated in Shakespeare’s time, “Lady, Sweet Lady” is a lovely tune that firmly establishes not only Rivard’s versatility as a performer but also his talent as a songwriter.

“This Time Around” is an opportunistic love song, a classic tune about making the best of a second chance no matter the cost, and might be the finest example of songwriting on Underground Railroad.  Rivard channels the spirit of Dan Fogelberg on “Sometimes Love”, a song all about the fragility of love.  The gorgeous melody and arrangement are matched only by the prescience of Rivard’s lyrics and his mesmerizing voice.  Rivard follows this up with “Yours Eternally”, which seems likely to be on the list of most-used first dance songs if Rivard ever gets his big break.  This is a wow moment.  Underground Railroad closes out with a radio edit of the title track.

It’s hard to imagine how Earl J. Rivard, III isn’t a household name already.  What seems very likely, however, is that he one day will be.  Whatever else you might have to say about Earl J. Rivard, it’s very clear that whatever deficits he may have suffered throughout his life seem small compared to the magnitude of both his voice and talent as a songwriter.  Underground Railroad is a thrilling experience, an album you will cherish both in spite of and for its minor flaws.  When Rivard sings, the angels stop to listen.  You will too.

Review by Wildy Haskell

Reviews, Wildy Haskell Earl J. Rivard, Underground Railroad

Singer/songwriter/producer/multi-instrumentalist Nate Gullickson moved from his home in Montana to Seattle in 2007 to find a music community more attuned his musical style.  Gullickson’s brand of ethereal and psychedelic folk/pop made Gullickson a lot friends in the music scene; friends who encouraged Gullickson to marry his instrumental creations to lyrics.  Gullickson concentrated his efforts, and the resulting songs gave birth to The Roans.  On April 15, 2010, The Roans will release their debut EP, Ebb, featuring four original compositions and a lot of ambient ear candy for listeners with the patience and appreciation for a different sound.

Ebb opens with “Fireside”, a mellow musical hors d’oeuvre with a psychedelic feel.  Gullickson has a pleasant voice that occasionally loses its footing on Mt. Pitch but conveys a bright and care free approach even as it circles lyrical dark waters.  “You Tried (I Tried)” is full of mournful complacency.  Gullickson explores the ending of a relationship in terms of acceptance that seems nearly listless.  The authentic nature of the lyrics gains points, but there’s little artistry in the story line, where everything is black and white and nothing’s left to ponder.  “Soft Forest” has a dreamy quality created by the blending of guitar and reverb.  The Roans will remind those familiar with Kevin Hearn of the Barenaked Ladies keyboardist both vocally and in compositional style.  The Roans really hit their stride here with a blending of ambient and psychedelic styles that overlays significant internal energy and struggle with an ethereal musical frosting that never really sits still.  Ebb slinks back into the night with “Winter Sleep”, blending lyric passages with a rhythmic intensity you might expect out of a twin bill of Dave Matthews and Rusted Root.  “Winter Sleep” is a compelling listen; somnolence is overcome by the vibrant energy of life, which wells and sways until borders on controlled violence and ultimately chaos.  Gullickson’s voice doesn’t always hold up well on the slower passages, but remains sonically pleasing even when he missteps.

Ebb is both a cornerstone and a jumping off point.  Nate Gullickson explores the shallow mountain pools near the peak that beget streams, quickly moving into vibrant waters that appear placid on the surface but run deep and wide.  “Winter Sleep” suggests that even as Gullickson was finding the sound on Ebb he was already beginning to envision something more; something listeners will be certain to hear when The Roans venture forth with their next project.  For now, Ebb is a tricky introduction that is both more and less than it seems.  The Roans rely heavily on ambience and rhythm to drive compositions that are atypical in scope but sonically satisfying.  The energy and angst you hear bubbling beneath the surface is an artist Becoming.

Review by Wildy Haskell

Reviews, Wildy Haskell Ebb, The Roans