Auburn Annie
09-15-2007, 11:50 AM
By FISH GRIWKOWSKY
Sadies
New Seasons
Outside Music
Sun rating: 4 out of 5
Calmer and with a wider backdrop than any Sadies record before it, New Seasons is named appropriately enough right out of the '60s, complete with an album cover that looks like it was shot just behind the witch-infested Black Sabbath farmhouse.
Pun intended, it's a very Good record, occasionally creepy and acid-trip personal.
Ever since brushing shoulders with Blue Rodeo's Greg Keelor, the band has embraced its Byrds side - to the point of making more listenable country Byrds records than that band ever did.
You can call that sacrilege, but go on and revisit Sweethearts of the Rodeo again; its full marks for ambition and bucking the sound of the times gets bogged down a little by some of the hokier or lifeless songs.
But it's the Sadies I like on this psychedelic twang album, not the fact they have Gram Parsons records. If anything, it's something else fittingly sneaking in that's great: Mr. Gordon Lightfoot - meaning solid, vulnerable folk not afraid to show its personal roots that still rocks the echoes at the same time. Like Lightfoot's early work - and buy his beige box set if you have the chance - the new Good brothers, bassist Sean Dean and drummer Mike Belitsky go through an interesting evolution here.
One of the not-well-kept secrets of the Sadies is that they're practically a metal band when they get going, especially Travis Good, who can shriek like he's in 3 Inches of Blood. You can see all this Oct. 19 at the Starlite, friend.
Yet this album cleverly ignores this live talent with a selection of songs that sound, through deliberate production by the Jayhawks' Gary Louris, like unearthed classics. Not musty, but fundamental, with looping, jangling harmonies and long-shelved sentiments like, "How'd we become so tangled?"
The ritualistic exhale at the end, a combination of crazed drumming with their caterer Muni Paco's pleasant sigh, rounds up the effort nicely.
What I love most about this Toronto band is how they follow their instincts and go for art over kitsch, though you need to look closely to understand the difference. Why they're drawn to this particular era of experimental music is obvious by what they bring back out, always with that signature giddy-up guitar. Definitely worth picking up.
---
Sadies
New Seasons
Outside Music
Sun rating: 4 out of 5
Calmer and with a wider backdrop than any Sadies record before it, New Seasons is named appropriately enough right out of the '60s, complete with an album cover that looks like it was shot just behind the witch-infested Black Sabbath farmhouse.
Pun intended, it's a very Good record, occasionally creepy and acid-trip personal.
Ever since brushing shoulders with Blue Rodeo's Greg Keelor, the band has embraced its Byrds side - to the point of making more listenable country Byrds records than that band ever did.
You can call that sacrilege, but go on and revisit Sweethearts of the Rodeo again; its full marks for ambition and bucking the sound of the times gets bogged down a little by some of the hokier or lifeless songs.
But it's the Sadies I like on this psychedelic twang album, not the fact they have Gram Parsons records. If anything, it's something else fittingly sneaking in that's great: Mr. Gordon Lightfoot - meaning solid, vulnerable folk not afraid to show its personal roots that still rocks the echoes at the same time. Like Lightfoot's early work - and buy his beige box set if you have the chance - the new Good brothers, bassist Sean Dean and drummer Mike Belitsky go through an interesting evolution here.
One of the not-well-kept secrets of the Sadies is that they're practically a metal band when they get going, especially Travis Good, who can shriek like he's in 3 Inches of Blood. You can see all this Oct. 19 at the Starlite, friend.
Yet this album cleverly ignores this live talent with a selection of songs that sound, through deliberate production by the Jayhawks' Gary Louris, like unearthed classics. Not musty, but fundamental, with looping, jangling harmonies and long-shelved sentiments like, "How'd we become so tangled?"
The ritualistic exhale at the end, a combination of crazed drumming with their caterer Muni Paco's pleasant sigh, rounds up the effort nicely.
What I love most about this Toronto band is how they follow their instincts and go for art over kitsch, though you need to look closely to understand the difference. Why they're drawn to this particular era of experimental music is obvious by what they bring back out, always with that signature giddy-up guitar. Definitely worth picking up.
---