Tyler Quist

Zach Jones: Things Were Better

Sam

Better and Better

Zach Jones gets all Smokey and Wonder-ous

Isn’t Zach Jones a guitar player? He certainly was with Rocktopus/As Fast As, on his following two solo records, and as a sideman for the likes of Pete Kilpatrick and Aaron Lee Marshall and Amy Allen [this originally ran in June of 2012]. A sinewy and smart guitar player, actually, with subtle tone and great instincts.

And yet, on the brand-new Things Were Better, it would appear he doesn’t play a single note, handing off guitar duties to the likes of Max Cantlin (Fogcutters/Anna & the Diggs, etc.) and Anthony Drouin (Lady Zen’s backing band, the Lazy Suzans, etc.), so that he can focus solely on lead vocals. He has reimagined/recreated himself here as a 1960s soul singer, a la Smokey Robinson with the Miracles, and it is really easy on the ears.

Or better yet, Stevie Wonder’s break-through record, the precocious and infectious Up-Tight, where Stevie went from child prodigy to songwriter and soul-singer. Jones shoots for the moon, with falsetto and drive and a terrific mix of easy soul and just plain good times.

The opening and title track, especially, is a keeper. Penned by Jon Nolan, who recorded the album at his Milltown Studios and did just about everything right in getting the organic sound this record needed, “Things Were Better” fires up with a guitar tone like walking barefoot onto the back lawn on a warm summer night and when Jones’ vocals enter he’s so fucking charming I was hoping he’d offer to buy me a drink. Then it gets better. The pacing is terrific, somehow both a rave-up and relaxed, with a sense of urgency and real passion, but nothing forced. It’s deep-seated. Enough so that “I need you like a bird needs feathers” doesn’t sound remotely corny. There are classic Motown “yeeea-aaah” guttural wails and sax duets from Kyle Hardy and Brian Graham and I’m pretty sure Bryan Brash and Tim Garrett chime in with viola and cello at one point or another.

It’s a listen-10-times-in-a-row kind of song.

In the same way that Aloe Blacc couldn’t hope to sustain the intensity of “I Need a Dollar” for the whole of Good Things, however, not every song here is that terrific. “If You Don’t Care” feels like an idea that didn’t completely come together, a ballad without resolution. “Wish I Could Dance,” despite being a hell of a lot of fun, comes off a tad anachronistic, a song that lives in a sitcom. In the same way Kurt Baker performs – okay, lives – in a pure-pop alternate universe and the Tricky Britches still write train songs in black and white, Jones is taking us outside of our everyday existences by conjuring a shimmering past that reminds us (maybe for the first time) of what used to be.

“Hard to Get” is a sugar-pie-honey-bunch number where the piano is mixed excellently to the center of the left channel, commanding your attention, but not stealing the spotlight. “Just out of Reach” teams Jones with Anna Lombard, like Otis Redding with Carla Thomas (that King & Queen is not on iTunes is a shame), a song with give and take and a playful sexuality.

Don’t sleep on “All the Time,” either. Kate Beever butters you up with the high end of the vibraphone before she’s joined by a skittering drum beat from Christopher Sweet. There’s just a tad of classic rock here, maybe coming from Tyler Quist’s active bass.

Best of all, though, is when Jones cracks open his chest and deals it straight. He has enough backlog with us now that we care – at least I do – about the mistakes that “have helped me learn from myself,” which fill the melancholic “Bittersweet Melody.” Too, when Jones rephrases Dylan with his closing “Used To Be So Young,” it’s hard not to think about Stevie Wonder’s take on “Blowing in the Wind,” a cover that said as much about Wonder’s musical acumen as any original.

Jones lets his voice break just a hair on his repeating and finishing delivery of “I used to be so young,” enough to make you believe it. Perhaps, back then, “it always seemed much easier,” but it seems like Jones has managed to figure out a thing or two along the way.

Christmas Grab-bag, 2012

Sam

Will it fit?

Giving local music for the holidays

I always give local music for Christmas [this was 2012, back when people still had CD players and stuff. I don’t do this anymore, which sorta makes me sad, but all the music lovers I know just have spotify now, so what’s the point?]. It’s like giving twice: Once to the gift receiver, and once to the band who get a little revenue for the holidays. Sis used to be an underground hip-hop kid, so she generally gets something recent from the Milled Pavement catalog. The three musically inclined brothers-in-law get a hand-made CD-R out of Strange Maine, the latest Sidecar EP, and whatever Chris Moulton’s latest project is, respectively.

Hmmm, might have to get creative this year for those last two.

If you’re feeling like you need to get creative this year, I’ve pulled out a bunch of stocking stuffers that I didn’t get around to reviewing this past year, but which will likely be a great fit for your special someone:

For anyone who hit the Avett Brothers, Old Crow, and Mumford shows in the past year: You’ll definitely want to grab them North, the debut EP from the Ghost of Paul Revere. A talented group of acoustic pickers with old souls and a nice feel for multi-part harmony, this is a band that can get touchy-feely (“Kodiak”) right before they blast right through a barn-burner (“Wolves”), and the closing “Spirit” has a real thump to it before an a capella finish that will keep you guessing.

For your uncle, who recently showed up wearing a leather jacket and a sarong: Make sure to pick up Philip Carlo Paratore’s Bronx to Bali, a record for adventurers. Tracked over six years, it’s got big rock elements, Latin swing, Caribbean rhythm, Pacific Rim melodies, and a vocal delivery that’s somewhere between Zappa and Transylvania 6-5000. There can be a simple seductiveness to instrumentals like “Kembali,” and the waterfalls of chiming digital bells might be just right for the holidays.

For the cousin to whom you gave a William Gaddis novel last year: For dense, smart, lyrical songs that you can consume for days, give Post Provost’s Ancient Open Allegory Oratorio, album that uses 14 musicians to create 11 tracks. One of the best albums released locally this year, it’s full of beautiful surprises, like “The Walking Cadaver,” a jazzy tune full of brushed snare, a walking bass from Johnny Venom and a close-out that includes a dire piano from Michael McInnis.  “Tall and Strong” has a “Girl from Ipanema” thing going on that’s hard not to like a lot and “Ping Pong Dash” is a delicious gypsy polka.

For your little sister, who just started at UVM: Sure, you could get her that Bob Marley box set, but think how cool she’ll seem to the kids in the dorm when they get a load of Maine reggae, thanks to Royal Hammer’s My Bubble. Fronted by Michael Taylor and with local lions all over the place – David Noyes, Jerusha Robinson, Gary Gemiti, Tyler Quist, Lucas Desmond, Ryan Zoidis, Stu Mahan – these guys have been at it long enough now that they’re super tight and locked in on the easy vibe that makes for great reggae. Add in the closing track, where they put a reggae cover on Micah Blue Smaldone’s “Mule,” and this is probably the best-every locally released album of this ilk.

For your aunt, just up from Memphis: You gotta make a gal feel at home, right? Well, for decent blues in this town, turn first to Bob Rasero (of Renovators fame). His latest, Not Gonna Worry, sees him turning in his electric for a mean acoustic guitar that lets him get more breathy with the vocals and more subtle with his delivery. The recording, done down in Bronxville, N.Y., at the Loft, is mint – the solos are so crisp you can hear every hammer-on and slide and it feels like Rasero is right across the room from you. My favorite is “Who’s to Blame,” with a solo that spits right in your eye even as it fades out, but there’s plenty for everyone here, even a Christmas tune.

For your friends with kids: Maybe they’re not hip to Laurie Berkner and they’re playing Wiggles drivel? Hand them Rob Duquette’s Love Is Contagious, a charming EP of five songs targeted at a decidedly younger audience (although I think “Brush Everyday” is solid advice at any age). Unless you’ve got an aversion to xylophone, songs like “Friends Forever” and the title track are very listenable, which is pretty crucial for parents who enjoy their sanity.

For anyone who’s been around a little bit: An underappreciated album by a local supergroup that came and went awfully quickly, Army of Squirrels’ Pirates Vs. Temperature is a sneering, sarcastic, hard-driving rock album that pokes fun and revels in our local scene, from “Break up the Band” to the closing “The Skinny,” which sadly might not even resonate much with people nowadays. “Your Life is Like an Emo Song” is worth the cover charge, and contributions from Brian Chaloux, Nick Lamberto, Walt Craven, and Neil Collins are easy to hear. Great stuff.