There
was something vaguely familiar in Jenn Lindsay's music when I first
heard Uphill
Both Ways and
it took me a few listens to nail it down. It turns out Jenn Lindsay
plays (wait for it!) New Wave! I tossed genres around to see how they
fit and none seemed to corner exactly what it was until the late 70s
popped up and that was it! Jenn Lindsay, my alternative pop-ites,
plays music for which Ken Barnes and the late Greg Shaw of Who
Put the Bomp lived—60s influenced pop with creative flare.
Lindsay displays just the kind of creativity and flare that could
well have garnered her a cover of the rejuvenated Bomp zine, the project Shaw was working on when he so unfortunately left
us. Her music fits all of his criteria—melody, hooks and drive.
Indeed,
Shaw would have taken this CD on himself, not trusting anyone else to
point out the positives: the Percy Sledge-like organ of Belong
Alone giving way to the perfect three-chord chorus behind the
bopping rhythm; the punchy acoustic rhythm of Brain
which
echoes the production of some of the best the 60s and 70s had; the
fast, upbeat rhythms of the acoustic guitar and Lindsay's intriguing
song stutter of Uphill
Both Ways,
not to mention the intriguing harmony vocals. What would have really
done it, though, would have been the magnificent pop opus, It
Came 2 Me,
which mixes elaborate production with voice sans production until the
end, a strange but captivating combination—and who could resist her
inclusion of two lines from Lennon and McCartney's Got
To Get You Into My Life as
she crescendos "I was alone, I took a ride/I didn't know what I
would find there". This CD is worth it for that alone.
She
isn't all power pop, of course. She folds House
of the Rising Sun and
Amazing
Grace into
a strange folk song lamenting the tragedy of recent New Orleans (and
the Bush Administration's bungled response) which she titled House
In New Orleans.
Christmas
Song, Part 2
has a folky Hem sound and shows that she can feel as well as dance.
If that doesn't satisfy your folk craving, she goes overboard in the
monumental eight minute-plus Kitchen
Sink in
which she laments love gone bad with only acoustic guitar, occasional
added voices and a classic sense of humor. And there is the eerie "Postolka", minor chords and weird chord progressions and
all.
Sonics
freaks might pick this apart if they heard it, but I contend that the
production is spot on. You can't pull off something this creative in
a sterile environment, just as you couldn't in the 60s and mid- to
late-70s. It is the feel of the music as much as the music itself
which gives this CD its edge. It feels good to me. Really, really
good.
Until
I heard this, Maggi Pierce & E.J. headed my list of groups to see.
Now I have fantasies of a double bill. I don't even care who opens
for who.
