The Canadian Timmins clan’s trademark wistful, forlorn sound and sparse acoustic accompaniment sprawls over their latest release, Early 21st Century Blues (Cooking Vinyl), with most of it written by other musical luminaries — the Junkies have, after all, never hesitated to adapt others’ music. The theme here is pain, war, loss and death: it’s by no means a work of optimism, despite the sound of a woman’s laughter that opens the album, which was recorded over five days in Toronto.
The laughter slides into Bob Dylan’s License to Kill, on which Margo Timmins’s breathy voice is as melancholically captivating as ever when she sings of being “hell-bent for destruction” and “afraid and confused”. The Junkies also borrow from Bruce Springsteen (Brothers under the Bridge, which lacks some spark, and an evocative rendition of You’re Missing), George Harrison (Isn’t It a Pity) and John Lennon — a comparatively lively I Don’t Want to Be a Soldier, with dubby rap by guest performer Rebel.
It’s not all covers, though. The Junkies have arranged two traditional songs, Two Soldiers and No More, with the former much like our own Jennifer Ferguson’s soulful treatment of world folk songs. Also included are two fine new songs by Michael Timmins, the slow and ruminative December Skies and the stirring This World Dreams of. The album closes with the mighty U2’s One, perhaps meant as a final note of hopefulness, though the Junkies fail to recreate the original’s appeal.
Early 21st Century Blues may not be uplifting, but it’s one of the Junkies’ most arresting efforts since The Trinity Sessions.
Album available at www.asprecords.co.za
ALSO ON THE SHELF
Frank Black
Honeycomb (Cooking Vinyl)
Yes, this is the Frank Black who fronted The Pixies — but only in name. Gone are the screams, wails and shouts; on Honeycomb, recorded in Nashville before the launch of The Pixies’ 2004 reunion tour, Black sits back and lets loose with warm, deliberate Southern soul with a hint of country. He’s on vocals and guitar (and composed most of the songs), and several guest musicians pitch in (including wife Jean on the happy-go-lucky duet Strange Goodbye).
The music runs from measured folky material, such as Sulkie Bride, Find Your Saint and Atom in My Heart, to down-and-out, gritty blues, such as Another Velvet Nightmare (“Today I felt my heart slide into my belly/ So I puked it up with liquor and I slept right where I lay”) and Lone Child. Song of the Shrimp is a rather odd ditty, as the title suggests. Though Honeycomb may not be what most would expect from Black, it’s well-crafted and worth a listen for those who think outside rock. — Riaan Wolmarans
Clout
Since We’ve Been Gone (Electromode)
Remember the huge Seventies hit Substitute? That was Clout, and now they have reunited — looking well middle-aged in the CD booklet photograph — “for the sheer joy of playing together again”. Opener Tender Love and tracks such as It Just Gets Better and Risky Business are plain pop songs on the pleasant side of average, with a homely air to them. There’s also the terrible ballad You Make the World So Colourful, which sounds like a mouldy Seventies leftover, and new recordings of the hits Save Me and Substitute that don’t differ much from the originals, although the new Substitute benefits from more guitar. It’s a lightweight comeback, but agreeable enough to please their ageing fans. — Riaan Wolmarans
Limp Bizkit
Greatest Hitz (Universal)
Fred Durst and the boys have provided us with some big nu-metal moments since 1997, as this collection proves with 14 tracks from four albums, two previously unreleased tracks and one new song. Over the first 14 tracks, arranged chronologically, it’s a bit cheerless to see the rage and energy of hits such as Break Stuff, My Way, Rollin’ and their cover of George Michael’s Faith fade away somewhat when it comes to the later, uninspired rock of Eat You Alive, Build a Bridge and the insipid Behind Blue Eyes.
The unreleased tracks are the grungy Slow (written by Pete Townshend) and the uninteresting Lean on Me, and the combined new cover track, Home Sweet Home/Bittersweet Symphony, is a nice try, but Motley Crue and The Verve have not quite been upstaged. Not a bad collection, but not terribly exciting either. — Riaan Wolmarans
Shostakovich
Cello Concerto No 1, Cello Sonata; Han-Na Chang (cello), Antonio Pappano (piano and conductor), London Symphony Orchestra (EMI)
Although the first cello concerto is somewhat neglected in favour of the second — considered the more important of the two — it nonetheless has much to offer both musically and in technical brilliance. Thematically, it is reminiscent of his first piano concerto, with some additional indebtedness to Stravinsky. Han-Na Chang shows the same enthusiasm and deft technical proficiency in this recording as she did in her previous collaboration with Antonio Pappano, when they recorded Prokofiev’s Sinfonia concertante together. Again Pappano not only conducts, but also accompanies Chang on the piano for the Cello Sonata Op 40, and he is more than articulate in both environments. — Lee Madeley
Various
Music Inspired by France (Telarc)
A strange title for what is basically a selected highlights disk of some recent and not so recent Telarc releases. The recordings themselves are of a high quality — but usually these compilations are released with the intention of familiarising the listener with the complete works from which they are extracted. If, however, you are a compilation-disk buyer, there may be some problematic inclusion here — such as the two most famous Gymnopodies of Erik Satie. These pieces in particular are favourite additions to many compilations already and one runs the risk of getting too many recordings of the same piece. This would only be useful if you wish to compare the varying interpretations.
The disks from which the works were extracted are also somewhat problematic if you feel that the music included herein is inspiring enough to make the more comprehensive purchase of the complete work. Fauré’s Pavane (Op 50) and the two Gymnopodies come from a disk that is almost entirely the works of Vaughan Williams and Grainger. The Gymnopodies are attached to it as a space filler.
Two of the works, Debussy’s Arabesque No 1 and La fille aux Chaveux de Lin are both interpreted on the harp by Yolanda Kononassis. Most lovers of the harp would perhaps already have these, most likely played by the nimbler fingers of Merissa Roebles. Two extracts from Fauré’s requiem appear, the Sanctus and Pie Jesu (not the “offerium”, the most famous part). Other duplications that may occur would be Debussy’s Claire de Lune, although thankfully this is not the orchestrated version, but on solo piano (as God and Debussy intended). — Lee Madeley