Around Hear

Although coverage of CD-release celebrations and other fatigue-defying feats has pre-empted our reviews of local releases during the past few weeks, all area artists who submit their work can rest assured that a write-up will eventually appear. But given that the stack of local releases grows larger on a daily basis, patience is a relevant virtue. This week’s column, devoted to recent releases by local musicians, should whittle down the pile a bit.

DJ Booth

Home Improvement

A fixture on the local rave scene, DJ Booth is known for his charismatic presence: He teaches crowds by example, dancing to his own grooves from behind the turntable. On this recorded effort, Booth starts with a steady beat, then gradually adds elements while maintaining the same pulsing backdrop throughout the album. Along the way, he injects jazzy touches and plenty of sampled vocals, including an amusing appropriation of “Horny” from the South Park Chef Aid compilation. Some sounds are pushed so deep in the mix that listeners might start searching their rooms for the source, fearing a scampering rodent or a malfunctioning appliance is behind the barely audible squeaks and groans. For best inspection of the total spectrum, listening to Home Improvement on headphones is a must. However, for those who just want to get their parties jumping, pump up the volume and the dancing won’t stop until this 74-minute epic finally winds down.

Mark Reynolds

Music for Enemies

Some might find the metronomic thump of dance music monotonous, but for a true definition of that term they need look no further than Mark Reynolds‘ brilliantly titled double-album, Music for Enemies. Each disc is 74 minutes long, and, in the spirit of Lou Reed‘s alternately praised and maligned Metal Machine Music, melodic variation is minimal. The first disc supplements a fuzzy drone with mild tonal variations and occasional industrial blasts, while the second uses a slightly more ambient buzz as its foundation and weaves in and out, slowing to a whisper before blazing back. As the title ingeniously suggests, this is the perfect record to leave playing on repeat setting if you go out of town for a weekend and hate your neighbors, or to play in the car without comment if you’re looking for a date to end quickly and painlessly. Reynolds, who has mined this territory previously, has now reportedly returned to the comparatively tangible world of acoustic guitar music — look for a review of his latest disc in this section in the near future. Until then, brave souls can take Reynolds’ advice from the back of the album cover: Listen to this maddening hum “at top volume and in its entirety.”

Verbal Contact

Poetical Checkmate

Eminem took Will Smith to task for claiming that the erstwhile Fresh Prince didn’t have to curse in his rhymes to go platinum, but even the self-proclaimed “meanest MC on this Earth” probably wouldn’t rip on a duo such as Kansas City’s Verbal Contact, who keep the rhymes clean but avoid polishing them with pop gloss. Lyrically, the group focuses on Midwest pride, vowing to put K.C. on the map and declaring that if America’s the body/the Midwest is the chest. The beats are tight throughout, and Verbal Contact, unlike He Who Gets Jiggy With It, doesn’t use samples. Rather, The Saint and Blaze-1 match thumping bass-filled beats with symphonic keyboard hooks, with “This/That” and “1845” providing the finest examples of their smooth sound. However, these two can also get rowdy, shouting DMX-style over raucous backdrops on “Give Me the Bomb” and “Going Midwest,” or kick something for clubgoers, such as the dance-floor dynamite of “Bounce for Me.” Staying profanity-free doesn’t have to mean going the route of Young MC — N.W.A. delivered radio-friendly tracks on Straight Outta Compton (“Express Yourself,” “Quiet on tha Set”) that hit as hard as its gangsta-flavored material. In that proud tradition, Verbal Contact offers a hip-hop-head-tested, mother-approved album that listeners can feel free to play while their parents are around — without performing do-it-yourself censorship with the volume knob.

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Effigy

A Dozen Roses

The Topeka pop-punk trio Effigy‘s latest release, A Dozen Roses, proves it’s one of the area’s most-improved acts. Last year’s We Gave It a Try was true to its apologetic title, offering 11 mostly pedestrian tunes and one gem, a Chris Farley ode with the endearing chorus I’m gonna miss that fat guy. However, A Dozen Roses represents a giant leap forward, with Effigy crafting strong melodies and complex tunes with plenty of breakdowns, catchy choruses, and choppy twists and turns. In the vein of Face to Face and early MXPX, its songs are poppy but not antiseptic, with snotty-yet-clear vocals and a pace that seldom slows from an all-out sprint. Highlights include the ska-tinged “It’s All Been Done Before,” the spirited rock of the title track, and the band’s cover of The Police‘s “King of Pain,” a hidden track that follows the now-requisite tribute to an actor. (This time, it’s Kevin Spacey, as singer Rusty Wiley wishes he could be cool like the American Beauty star.) A Dozen Roses is pure, simple fun, and it’s clear that this was all Effigy was aiming to deliver. For proof that the group has no delusions of artistic grandeur, listen deeper into the hidden track — after 11 minutes, Wiley croons the self-referential words three chords is all you need to write a song. The chords might have remained the same, but Effigy has learned how to get much more out of them.

Boot Hill

Laudenum

The area’s favorite hard-rock trio still hasn’t recouped its stolen equipment, but cosmic justice should dictate that this stellar release sells enough copies to ensure future albums. Boot Hill starts with a Western-style instrumental, then kicks into a rollicking cowpunk number complete with drawled vocals and local landmarks (Waldo Bar, Irezumi Body Art). “Cowgirl in my Cadillac” has all the style and swingin’ strut of a countrified version of the Stray Cats‘ “Look at That Cadillac,” while Allegra Cloud‘s snarling bad-girl voice on “Go-Go” and her sulking take on “These Boots Are Made for Walkin'” provide the perfect contrast for Gary Cloud‘s gritty growl. Boot Hill gathers steam toward the end of the album, with the galloping romp “Pool of Blood” and the stand-out honky-tonk “Squirrel Gun,” which features Bob Dude helping out nicely on drums and harmonies and devolves into all-out thrash in its last few seconds, showcasing the band’s sound at its most fully developed. Full of urban-cowboy swagger and red-hot rockabilly licks, Laudenum provides the perfect soundtrack for debaucherous nights at local dives.

Parlay

Border Scum

The trouble with classic-rock radio stations is that they’re usually not receptive to new bands that could provide an ideal segue between, say, vintage ZZ Top and Led Zeppelin. Parlay‘s explosive tunes could easily make such a link, merging the best of both groups into a stunningly powerful juggernaut that might instantly annihilate the current crop of retro-rock pretenders. “Dead or Alive” moves from slow-dragging blues to huge, heavy riffs and back again, making tough transitions without missing a beat. Ernie Locke‘s group might reside in classic rock, but it travels frequently, venturing into R&B (a cover of Ike and Tina Turner‘s “Man on the Chopper”), fist-pumping anthems (“Rock & Roll”), and solo-spitting hard rock (“Iced Down Hours Ago”). Locke displays his astounding skills on the blues harp frequently, with Parlay’s cover of Rube Wadell‘s “Satan” featuring his most impressive harmonica work, while the rest of the band takes turns stepping in and out of the spotlight — see Rob Veitch‘s frenetic drum rolls on “Make Love After Midnite,” John Cutler‘s crushing bassline on “Urban Prairie,” and Claes Lillig‘s choppy riffs on “Vietnam.” Making Border Scum even more impressive is the fact that these songs will unquestionably be even more appealing when Parlay kicks them during one of its feverish concerts. See ’em live, and, as Locke always says, shake your tailfeather.

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Lowry

Spent Movement

It’s a bold move to debut with a double album, but after eight years on the local scene, Alexander Lowry has released the epic Spent Movement, with each disc anchored by a 12-minute tune. Lowry often plays acoustic and electric guitar on the same song, constructing a dense layer of riffs, and he occasionally pitches in on the keys and percussion. His best efforts include “Jose,” a breezy, jazzy number that tells an interesting story, and the bluesy “Love Dust,” which uses some nice guitar work to overshadow its goofy lyrics. Less effective are “The Learning Song,” which is plagued by an almost-obnoxious bass line, and the lyrics as a whole, which are riddled with confusing name-dropping and forced rhymes (the ants on the mound and the hound that’s in the pound). In fact, although Lowry’s vocals are decent, the songs are at their best when he’s not singing, as during the extended jams that push “Aft” and “Spent Movement” past the 10-minute mark. With this mammoth effort, Lowry now has a substantial foundation of recorded material on which to build. Hopefully, it won’t take eight more years for him to re-emerge, because he’s quite capable of delivering a solid effort if he tightens his editing process and puts a little more emphasis on his blues roots.

Brendon Massei

No More Sad Eyes (No Town Records)

After releasing one full-length album and several compilation tracks with Supperbell Roundup, Brendon Massei has delivered his emotionally charged solo debut. Full of subtle acoustic guitar melodies and weary, nuanced vocals, No More Sad Eyes is a low-key delight. Among the highlights are the plinky, downbeat “I Know Where I’ll Go, Where We’ll All Go,” which showcases two distinct shades of Massei’s voice, and the stripped-down “Get Me Away, and Get Me Back.” With such song titles as “If You’ve No One to See, I’d Love You to Go Out with Me,” Massei operates from a genuinely vulnerable stance that’s a refreshing change from the cocky attitude that’s invaded nearly every genre. Occasionally, Massei rocks out a bit, as when the fuzzy guitars kick in two minutes into “I Can’t Hang” and when overlapping noise swarms over his vocals at the end of “Las Vegas Town,” but for the most part this is a charming, soft-spoken songwriting effort. Massei the meek might not inherit the earth, but he should at least win the hearts of fans of everyone from Bright Eyes to Elliott Smith.

Sherry Lawson

On a Planet Where It Rains

A self-described ’60s hippie, Sherry Lawson captures the spirit of folk’s golden age on her charming and melodic debut, On a Planet Where It Rains. Lawson, who hosts an open mic at the Cup and Saucer each Sunday night, seizes this forum for herself, displaying impressive vocal range and lyrical skills. On the album’s most political song, Lawson addresses a “Union Man,” singing, Now you’re rich and it’s true for you/Guilty of the things they used to do. However, most of the themes on Planet are either personal, dealing with lost romance and fallen friends, or spiritual, as on the album-ending medley “The Law of One/Your Mouth Is a Prayer.” Musically, Lawson can rock out Sheryl Crow-style, as she does with help from producer/guitarist Steve Phillips on “You Get What You Settle For,” but she can also cop a sultry, jazzy coo, add a little twang to a country hoedown, or mute herself to a hesitant near-whisper on her softer material. Yet what really sets her apart is her ear for melody — many singer/songwriters have enough talent to wow the coffeehouse crowd, but Lawson has the hooks to leave them singing her tunes later.

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Ann & Terry Brock

One Heart, One Mind

Thanks in part to the crossover appeal of the Dixie Chicks, real country — the kind with fiddles and steel guitars — is starting to come back, which means songwriters such as Ann & Terry Brock might be working in a sellers’ market. However, so that those who like the adult-contemporized sounds of new country don’t feel left out, the Brocks have considerately included a few tunes along those lines, such as the album-opening title track (which does end with some nice fiddling), the power ballad “Teardrops from my Heart,” and “Midnight,” which actually bears a strong resemblance to Carly Simon‘s late ’80s work. Although Terry Brock penned most of the songs, the duo includes some well-chosen covers, such as Sonny Bono‘s brooding “A Cowboy’s Work Is Never Done.” The group is at its best with its slowest, saddest songs — “Lonely Time” and “You Know Why” make lasting impressions with their forlorn vocals and longing lyrics. When it comes to country, you still can’t go wrong with tales of heartbreak.