ISSUE #25 MMUSICMAG.COM REVIEWS HOLE JNobody’sOHNNY MARR Daughter [Universal] The Messenger [Sire] The first album released under the Hole moniker since 1998’s Celebrity Skin is really frontwoman Courtney Love’sSince leaving the Smiths in 1987, guitarist Johnny Marr has made a second solo album—co-founder,career of playing nice with others. He’s guested with such heavies as songwriter and lead guitarist Eric Erlandson isn’t involved,Talking Heads and Pet Shop Boys and even served stints with relative nor is any other previous Hole member. So it’s Love andwhippersnappers three Modest Mouse and the Cribs. Through it all, he’s seemingly ringers on 11 new songs—10 of which Love wrotemade with a conscious effort to avoid his signature sound—that rolling, bittersweet collaborators like Billy Corgan,jangle thatLinda definedPerry and newnot only the Smiths, but also indie rock as we know it. guitarist Micko Larkin. (Perry gets full credit on one tune, “Letter to God.”) On his solo debut, Marr comes closer than ever to revisiting the music of Much of the riveting intensity of the group’s 1990s heyday appears to havehis left early along 20s. with It’s her formernot all clean,Daniel Jackson chiming guitars—synths occasionally seep bandmates, but there are fl ashes here of the snarling Too often, though, the slower songs trip her up. While once fury Love deployed to suchthrough devastating the effect strumming, back in the harkingday. they back were showcases to Electronic, for harrowing Marr’s displays side of naked project emotion, She spits out her vocals withwith vengeful New Order’sdisdain on “SkinnyBernard Little Sumner—but Love sounds more The dispassionate Messenger these mostly days. Thedelivers production Bitch,” overdriven guitars roiling atop an elastic bassline that doesn’t help—the songs have an airless, sanded-down feel that speeds up as the song vigorouslyraces toward amelodic, climatic pile-up lyrically at the vague doesn’t rockers. fi t with her Were visceral ex-Smithspersona. Courtney foil Love’sMorrissey tumultuous end. She shifts tempos and attitude on the more contemplative history suggests that she has a compelling story to tell, and “Pacifi c Coast Highway,”present, taking stock he’d as layers lend of acousticsome profundityand perhaps (and she does. personality) It’s just not the to one the she’s proceedings, telling on Nobody’s electric guitars chug along behind her. Daughter. –Eric R. Danton but instead, we’re left with “Generate! Generate!”—Marr’s best attempt to

COURT YARDexpress HOUNDS whateverA side has project reawakened of new hisoffering inner suggested rock ’n’ that roller. its creator –Kenneth was a few Patridgestrides closer to Dixie Chicks’ Martie crafting something truly monumental in both musical and social terms. Court Yard Hounds Maguire and Emily This cold and private set isn’t it, although that’s probably due more to [Columbia] Robison, Court Yard personal circumstances than anything related to talent. Wainwright Hounds delivers wrote All Days Are Nights while his mother, Kate McGarrigle, was much-anticipated dying of cancer, and there is a quiet, complex sadness even in its insight—both musical and personal—into the sisters who have less autobiographical material. There’s nothing here except piano for so long ceded center stage to Chicks singer Natalie Maines. and vocal, and Wainwright doesn’t project his words in the way Though steeped in familiar instrumentation, the album offers little we’ve come to expect from him. Instead of serenading the person of the barn-burning brashness that made the Chicks famous (save in the farthest corner of a packed theater, he’s singing to himself in perhaps the gutsy “Ain’t No Son”). Instead, its delicate folk-pop an otherwise empty room. –David Styburski prettiness perfectly suits Robison’s more-than-capable voice and the jumble of emotions, sunny and melancholy, that emerge in a song Ozomatli’s music has been called a collision cycle inspired by her 2008 divorce. Maguire’s weeping fi ddle and OZOMATLI of styles, a cultural mash-up, and a 20-car seamless harmonies are welcome as always, and her one turn on pileup of genres. It’s also some of the most lead vocals (“Gracefully”) is so warmly affecting that listeners may joyfully energetic music you’ll ever hear. On wish she stepped to the mic more often. Court Yard Hounds ably its fi fth album, the L.A.-based band stirs its demonstrates that, whether with their fellow Dixie Chick or without, blend of salsa, ska, samba, funk, and hip-hop these‘Marr ladies’ talent comes runs deep. –Katie closer Dodd than ever to in ways few groups could conceive. Imagine Fire Away tossing the English Beat, Herb Alpert and the For a dozen years, the [Mercer Street/Downtown] Tijuana Brass, Caetano Veloso, and Sly and RUFUS arrangements on Rufus the Family Stone into a magical blender and revisiting the musicWainwright’s of albumshis got earlyyou get some 20s.’ sense of Ozomatli’s eclectic approach. High points WAINWRIGHT busier and his sometimes on their latest, Fire Away, include “Are You Ready?,” a horn-and- All Days Are Nights: Songs naughty, occasionally percussion-driven blast of salsa-fl avored ska; “Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah,” for Lulu angry declarations of gay an exultant Latin pop anthem fi tted with shrieking sax; and “Gay Vatos [Decca] pride got louder. Each in Love,” a rockabilly-tinged tune with a soaring chorus. Even when

70 MAY 2010 ISSUE #25 M MUSIC & MUSICIANS MAGAZINE

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