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Morrison’s always had a penchant for ather schmaltzy atmospherics, but now his ice doesn’t -or can’t- cut a swath

second album is finally out. His first, which had many beautiful slower songs while the

hrough all that goo. Get rid of the ynthesizers and faceless back-up singers nd all that other sonic blubber and just ng it, Van; that voice is the most potent istrument I’ve ever heard. I’m not saying us album is lousy, it’s not. If you like his ewer music, you'll like this. I suggest if gu like his newer stuff to check out loondance, the most accessible of his assic albums.

ne latest from Rickie Lee Jones (she is it country, by the way) is her fifth album twelve years (slow down, girl!). It’s also T worst. Rickie, Rickie, Rickie... why are u such a flake? Pop, Pop is a collection jazzy covers that can be thrown in the set with Pin-Ups, Almost Blue, and ick n’ Roll. The material on this album esses the more annoying qualities of her ice Over accompaniment that consists nost exclusively of a stand-up bass and justic guitar. I’ve always found her fred, girlish vocals wildly emotional, but € they’re merely irritating. Most of this sic doesn’t manage to convey any kind feeling whatsoever. The only decent $ arrive ten (!) songs in with “Love syard," which features Rickie’s layered als to typically beautiful affect, and the ‘Kk "Comin’ Back to Me," one of the few gs here which doesn’t sound like she’s ing with a big grin on her face. There

other moments when the simple odies are momentarily touching, but then revert back to the hamminess sinks this album. Doesn’t it piss you hen you buy something, and after you n to it once you know it’ll never see light of day again? Rickie, Rickie,

ee - |) & .

i

ok a while but Robbie Robertson’s

a ;

a

_ throw-aways

mere up-tempo ones tended to be (although pretty good throw-aways), was one of the best albums of that year, and so is this one. Robertson’s always had a gift for melody, and that gift is here in abundance on an album which is even more solid than his first. Robbie’s voice, a gruff, monotone (think of Leonard Cohen or Lou Reed and you're on the right track), is even "worse" than it was on his debut, but it works; it conveys emotion, which is what music is all about, right? What makes this music so beautiful is the way it struggles towards transcendance yet never quite attains it, creating a heart-rendingly painful tension. Standouts include "Soap Box Preacher," which has Neil Young on back-up vocals, and "Sign of the Rainbow," which features the gorgeous voice of Aaron Neville (now there’s a matcn made in heaven). Lyrically Robbie deals with “fast living, hot music, and mooaburnt nights." Yeah, anyway, who cares what he’s talking about; the music speaks for itself.

When I first listened to this album I was frustrated by thinking about what the Band, Robertson’s old group, could have done with this calibre of material. While it’s still true that Robbie’s feeble pipes keep this album closer to the ground than it could have been, the songs are truly great, and even without a great singer -like Richard Manuel, Rick Danko, or Levon

' Helm- Robbie Robertson can stil] take

your breath away.

One out of three from these artists? Not too impressive. Nonetheless check out Storyville. It’s pretty inspiring stuff and my pick for the best album of 1991 so far. Well, coming up next week I’ve got that little purple guy, Prince. See ya then.

Kirby Ferguson

October 17, 1991

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