By Adrienne Casey

Mr. David Viner
This Boy Don’t Care
Polydor UK, 2004

Viner’s first release was an impressive debut; his second, “This Boy Don’t Care,” is better—no sophomore slump in these parts. Viner is a guy with a guitar and a great record collection that stretches back in time. More folk, less blues this time, the whole recording has a lazy summer afternoon quality. Even when he’s sad you know he won’t do anything drastic. He’s young, too. When he sings, “I just can’t wait to get married in the spring,” I can’t believe girls don’t line up with bridesmaid hope. Definitely among the best of the huge crop of new folk.

Peter Stampfel and the Bottlecaps
The Jig Is Up
Blue Navigator, 2004

The last hurrah for the Bottlecaps, although Peter has already moved on to new fun. What a fine note to exit on. A long time in the making, “The Jig Is Up” is minstrely, Irish, old-time, good-time, wacky, sincere - lo, everything you expect from Stephen Foster’s very improbable heir. A mix of originals, covers, and traditionals, subjects covered include drug dealers, jerks, McKinley, repo men; folks covered include Foster himself, Michael Hurley, and Hank Snow. “Radar Blues” evokes the Holy Modal Rounders of the early ‘70s with its reverb and musical loitering. Give the fiddler a dram? Give the whole group a dram!


Volebeats
Country Favorites
Turquoise Mountain Records, 2003

If there’s a recent sister album to “The Jig Is Up” it COULD be this. One ear in the past, the other the present; a mix of covers and originals. But where Stampfel is a goof, the Volebeats are straight. Strange since there’s no irony in Stampfel’s covers, yet here you get ABBA and Slayer—both up there with Miles Davis as likeliest to receive the country treatment. When Detroit groups achieved notoriety the press must have lost this band’s number. My guess: They have more records in them than most. No, not their best, but a fine in-between-things album.

Jon Langford
All the Fame of Lofty Deeds
Bloodshot Records, 2004

The most astute political observations via song this election year aren’t the product of an American. Welshman Langford has lived here for years though and knows what’s good and bad stateside, rightly acknowledging both. Comparing America to a child (and who doesn’t love them?) he sings: “The country is young / Takes a step and collapses / Try to remember its age / Not too big on the sharing / But still so much fun.” More Nashville than most of Nashville and wiser than the Times. They don’t play his songs on the radio, like he says, but means about as much as the dress J Lo wore to the Oscars.

!!!
Louden Up Now
Touch and Go, 2004

They could do no wrong when all they had was “Me and Giuliani.” People wanted more and now they have it. The lesson: careful what you wish for. Sometimes less—as in one single—is indeed more. Apparently there are some smart politics here, but like they say over and over on one track, “Like I give a fuck.” The songs are unimaginative and there’s little to distinguish them from forgotten white-guy funk groups. Don’t be surprised if they eventually bend in the dreadful funk-metal direction. Sure, people will still see the reputed live show but, you know people, they do the oddest things.

Michael Hurley
Down in Dublin
Blue Navigator, 2004

Nothing slows down the venerable Mr. Hurley—not a hangover, not a broken heart, or deer in the road. (Well, a deer might.) Like a reliable car doing 50 in a 75, he always gets there. On the heels of 2002’s “Sweetkorn,” this recording from Ireland, with the Rough Deal String Band, is warm and sounds live-in-the-studio. Meet “Uncle Smoochface”: “He runs into the ladies room ‘cuz he need to pee / He loves to meet the ladies when they take a leak.” Of note are re-recordings of his own “Slurf Song,” with added verses, and the excellent “Monkey on the Interstate.” Lucky us. Now can we get a boxed set?

Keren Ann
Not Going Anywhere
Blue Note, 2004

Shhhh. With quiet vocals and gorgeous songs, you’ll need to turn it up—but doing so won’t make much difference. Keren Ann is multi-ethnic, currently resides in France, and this is her third album. Her other albums allowed for modernity, but this is mostly straightforward folk with little more than her voice and fingerpicked guitar. But, like her, this release has a host of stamps in its passport—American, French and British folk are all there. Sung entirely in English (the last album was all French), the non-words are still Franco-giveaways and the little bit of brass is, too. Fall asleep, it’s ok, you were meant to.

Comets on Fire
Blue Cathedral
Sub Pop, 2004

Someone’s bound to say, “Turn it down,” but I don’t see how you could. Comets on Fire, from San Fran, are all about torching the house and fielding no questions later. The vocals are heavily echo-plexed, the whammy bar worn out, and the drum kit in tatters. The leads thump and are off in the same way that Blue Cheer’s were. A real purist might say, “Well, the last release didn’t have organ and sax.” I say, “My, the talent!” Call the cops, who cares, turn it back up and pass the whiskey. The West Coast rocks again!

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