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It’s been far, far too long since we’ve heard anything new from Jason Falkner that wasn’t attached to a side project of some sort. Touring with his band TV Eye has taken up much of Falkner’s time the past few years, and he has done some interesting solo stuff along the way - Bedtime With The Beatles and a track on the Lynne Me Your Ears ELO/Jeff Lynne tribute collection, among other things. And there have been what seems like a half dozen releases of Falkner’s B-sides and demos along the way - all to cater to fans who are eagerly awaiting more solo work from the man himself. At long last, Bliss Descending brings us an all-too-brief taste of what Jason Falkner has been up to in his own studio.

Weighing in at only five songs, Bliss Descending is really surprisingly understated. Oddly enough, its standout track, the lively and very ELO-esque “Lost Myself” doesn’t hit until the end of the EP, and I had to go back and listen to the first four tracks all over again because that one song is so catchy, it immediately washes the others away. Not that they’re not good songs, but “Lost Myself” is that good - it’s the kind of tune that turns somewhat rational folks like me into fans rabid enough to pick up all of those demo/B-side collections, hoping for some lost gem like this one.

“The Neighbor” kicks things off strongly, but it has some fairly weak and repetitive lyrics; it’s a good song that needs a stronger set of words. “They Put Her In The Movies”, “Feeling No Pain” and “Moving Up” are decent songs, but, at the risk of making an unfair comparison, there’s nothing that really knocks the door down, walks in and makes you sit up and take notice on the order of “I Live” or “She Goes To Bed” or “Honey”. At least not until the last track, which stands up nicely alongside any of those.

Still, I’m prepared to recommend this one to you, because a fair-to-middling Jason Falkner tune is better than quite a few artists’ best. If you’re wondering why I keep coming back to this guy’s work over and over again in theLogBook.com’s music review section, check out Bliss Descending - it’s an inexpensive gateway into Falkner’s other work, which also happens to rock.

1. The Neighbor (4:31)
2. They Put Her In The Movies (3:44)
3. Feeling No Pain (4:58)
4. Moving Up (5:07)
5. Lost Myself (4:01)

Released by: Wreckchord Records
Release date: 2004
Total running time: 22:27

If you need evidence that there’s still a “wandering minstrel,” for lack of a better term, out there in the increasingly studio-bred world of music, allow me to present Daniel Gannaway as proof that the breed’s not extinct. The New Zealand-based musician logged studio time for his latest album in Ireland, Amsterdam, and NZ itself, all while working the road as a gigging musician. What has emerged from that work is Darling One Year, a tasty masterpiece of low-key mood that picks up the best stylistic experiments of his previous album and runs with them.

Of that previous album, I remember saying that Gannaway needed someone to hit the skins for him, and indeed on this outing he’s assembled a nice little group of fellow musicians to fill out the sound with some real live drums and bass. Gannaway’s voice, often processed and a bit ethereal, wafts over the proceedings - if anything, the best example on Bound & Suburban to which I could compare Darling One Year’s vocals would be “Achilles”, where it sounded like the vocals were being driven through a flange pedal; in some cases on Darling One Year’s heavier numbers, the vocals sound like they’re going through a guitar distortion pedal or some similar effect, and while the effects are never out of place with the songs, every once in a while it makes it a little hard to hear what’s actually being sung.

And that’s really my only quibble (and it’s a small one at that) with Darling One Year, because the lyrics are worth hearing - they’re often pointed and topical. The title track takes a first-person view of the oscurity of being an independent musician, and there’s no Bon Jovi waffle about riding a steel horse to be found here, but there’s no regret or bitterness to it either. “Student Debt Sucks” is funny and yet has a bubbling-just-under-a-boil rant going at the same time, with a great lyrical turn of phrase in “lending you astray.” Lyrically, the best song on here by miles is “Chain”, railing against bigotry and war and offering a philosophical comment about how every life is essentially a string of one-on-one encounters of one kind or another, any one of which could break said chain. “See The Light” offers a wry commentary on door-to-door evangelism (and here I thought that was a uniquely American phenomenon). And bookending things nicely, the last track, “A Small Thankyou”, is exactly as advertised.

Darling One Year is some excellent music that, hopefully, can get a wider audience by word-of-mouth. Daniel Gannaway’s unique style of filtering folk influences through modern recording techniques makes for quite a compelling listen, and it certainly doesn’t hurt that he writes some damn good songs too. I’m pretty sure I said this about his previous release too, but I’ll repeat it here - if you only indulge in one independent release this year, Darling One Year would make a fine pick.

1. Darling One Year (4:17)
2. Student Debt Sucks (3:40)
3. Julie (4:50)
4. Gotta Drive (3:47)
5. In The North Sea (4:44)
6. Laughing Free (3:56)
7. Chain (3:39)
8. See The Light (4:26)
9. Ecstasy Lovers (4:47)
10. A Small Thankyou (3:21)

Released by: Daniel Gannaway
Release date: 2004
Total running time: 41:30

I can’t possibly say something about the provenance and evolution of this album that hasn’t been said elsewhere, and I don’t have the musical knowledge to critique it professionally, so I won’t try. I will, however make a few observations from the perspective of a music lover.

When was the last time you heard an album that you just didn’t feel you could skip through? Smile is an album of pure Americana - very unfashionable, if not somewhat rude these days. But Smile neither sugar-coats nor apologizes for its theme. It’s not nostalgia.

“Rock, rock, roll Plymouth Rock roll over
Ribbon of concrete - just see what you done -
Done to the church of the American Indian!”

or

“Who ran the iron horse?
Have you seen the Grand Coulee workin’ on the railroad?”

Sentiments like these find easy perch among the America-basher subculture often found in hemp stores and the like, but that crowd will have a hard time embracing this album. Brian Wilson and Van Dyke Parks have created an album which embraces all of America - the good and the bad, the beautiful, the glorious, the oppressive, and the grim.

All of the songs are short. Of course the album was for the most part written in a time when singles had to be less than 3:30 to get airplay, but many of the pieces are around 2 minutes. And each piece is filled with changes in key, tempo, production sound, instrumentation, and even melody.

The song “Old Master Painter” is a solo cello introduction and single verse of “You Are My Sunshine” performed in a minor key through a vox box. At just over a minute in length, on any other album it would be a bridge piece. Here it’s a scene in a sprawling mural. This is a true concept album, and the bridges occur in the songs themselves.

Musical influences? They’re vast and varied. The entire album is sprinkled with the open harmonies which created the Beach Boys, but it would be more surprising if it weren’t. One note - if you’ve heard Brian Wilson in the last 20 years, you’ve noticed that his voice has thickened. I don’t know if the cause is drugs or just living. You can hear that thickness here. For that single reason, I think this album might have sounded better had it been recorded in 1966.

But listening to the album you hear Gershwin, Pink Floyd from the Syd Barrett days (there are some scary similarities to pieces like “Arnold Layne” and “See Emily Play”). Aaron Copland’s influence is apparent, but that’s almost a requisite for a musician toying with Americana.

There’s also a surreal relationship which is hard to keep straight. You can listen to “I’m In Great Shape” and hear orchestration reminiscent of Supertramp, then you remember he wrote this a decade or more before Roger Hodgson. “Vega-Tables” has elements which are pure They Might Be Giants, but again this actually predates TMBG by 30 years. Come to think of it, a lot of this sounds like TMBG, both in song structure and lyrics, to wit:

“I threw away my candy bar and I ate
The wrapper. And when they told me
What I did, I burst into laughter.”

This album could almost have been written by XTC, but Andy Partridge was barely out of diapers when it was written. And of course Partridge would be hard-pressed to write an album of Americana.

Lastly this album does one more thing that is perhaps unprecedented in pop music. It turns a song you’ve known your entire life into something completely different. “Good Vibrations” was always the final song of Smile, but we’ve come to know it as the single. As good a single as it is, when you listen to this album you come to realize the song was never complete. I can’t think of another example of something like this. The version here is not substantially different from the version you’ve known. That song was always supposed to be in this album, and once you hear it in this setting you’ll know it immediately.

Who would have thought Van Dyke Parks would be back in the forefront of music in 2004? Probably not even him. Brian Wilson and Van Dyke deserve all the attention they’re receiving. They deserve the awards they’re destined to receive for this landmark work, and they deserve to be very proud of this remarkable contribution to American music.

1. Our Prayer / Gee (2:09)
2. Heroes And Villains (4:50)
3. Roll Plymouth Rock (3:48)
4. Barnyard (0:58)
5. Old Master Painter / You Are My Sunshine (1:03)
6. Cabin Essence (3:31)
7. Wonderful (2:06)
8. Song For Children (2:16)
9. Child Is Father Of The Man (2:18)
10. Surf’s Up (4:08)
11. I’m In Great Shape / I Wanna Be Around / Workshop (1:56)
12. Vega-Tables (2:20)
13. On A Holiday (2:36)
14. Wind Chimes (2:52)
15. Mrs. O’Leary’s Cow (2:27)
16. In Blue Hawaii (2:59)
17. Good Vibrations (4:36)

Released by: Nonesuch
Release date: 2004
Total running time: 46:55

Everyone seems to have done a musical now, but Xena’s Bitter Suite was one of the first and, in terms of both story and music, still possibly the best. Joseph LoDuca’s music caters less to the series’ usual musical sensibilities, shifting instead into lavish big-screen-musical territory. There’s something almost Disney-esque about The Bitter Suite, but we’re talking old-school Disney - Pete’s Dragon and Bedknobs And Broomsticks Disney musical style, not this newfangled Every Male Lead Suddenly Sings Elton John Songs In Peabo Bryson’s Voice business that seems to pervade the lion’s share - pun pitifully intended - of Disney’s modern output.

Even more gloriously, it’s refreshing to see that three of the story’s key players do their own singing. Renee O’Connor was dubbed by Susan Wood for her musical scenes, and Hudson Leick (Callisto) got to lip-synch to Michelle NiCastro’s vocals for her character. (NiCastro, incidentally, is a veteran of some of those newfangled Disney musicals. Small world, eh?) But Lucy Lawless, Ted “Joxer” Raimi and the late, great Kevin “Ares” Smith sang for themselves, thank you very much, and between my constant admiration for his performance as the god of war and the fact that he may be the best vocalist of the bunch, I’ve got to hand Kevin Smith some mad props here. From the slinky, seductive tones of “Melt Into Me” to his snide remark “ding dong, the bitch is dead!”, Smith comes out very much the unheralded star of this show. On TV, he also looked most at ease in this episode. Kevin, we lost you far, far too soon.

The CD as a whole is a collection of the musical numbers and highlights from the score (including the wildly percussive cues for the brutal opening sequences), with just enough dialogue to preserve something of the flow of the story. If there’s a single low point, it’s the slightly overwrought “Hearts Are Hurting”, a song divided into two parts during which Xena and Gabrielle work out a major conflict that had built up between the two characters since the beginning of the third season (of which the less said, the better, frankly). The vocals from both Susan Wood and Lucy Lawless are a bit strained, and the music stops just short of being risible - it’s actually the show’s theme song, slowed down a lot and with lyrics. Really the low point of both the CD and the episode - and it should’ve been, could’ve been the high point.

That aside, The Bitter Suite is outstanding, and the CD tells the story nicely - since it’s a musical, it’s almost the episode in audio form, and not much is left out except for some non-musical dialogue (the CD has roughly the same running time as the episode, in fact). Good stuff.

1. The Sweat Hut / Slapped Out Of It / Xena’s In Town (4:42)
2. Horrible Drag / On The Edge / Song Of The Fool (5:09)
3. What’s Still Unwritten… (Song Of Illusia) / Little Ditties / Into The Chandra / Joxer The Mighty / Prepping Gabby (5:17)
4. War And Peace / Gab Is Stabbed (5:52)
5. Melt Into Me / Let Go (2:28)
6. Dead? / Hearts Are Hurting (Part 1) (2:35)
7. The Deliverer (4:07)
8. Hate Is The Star (Song Of The Torment) / Hearts Are Hurting (Part 2) (5:42)
9. The Way Out / The Love Of Your Love / Passing Through (7:10)

Released by: Varese Sarabande
Release date: 1998
Total running time: 42:55

A few tracks into the second CD of music from Xena: Warrior Princess, one gets a general feeling of “westernization” on this album. No, not meaning that suddenly everything’s gotten to be like a guitar-twanging score from a Fellini western, but that the Mediterranean elements that so characterized the early scores are starting to be phased out in favor of a more traditional western/orchestral tone.

With the second season’s exploration of slightly less serious, campier territory than the first, little musical numbers began to creep in as well, though I’m happy to hear the “Joxer The Mighty” song here - Joxer remains my favorite character in the Herc/Xenaverse, and for God’s sake, someone build some surreal sitcom around Ted Raimi in a starring role now, it’ll be gold. But I digress. There are also grander vocal outings as well, with the operatic “Xena Kicks Bacchae Butt” and more understated “At Mother’s Tomb”. Suffice to say, season two’s overall tone is accurately reflected in this collection of music from that year.

With tracks 9 and 10, I find myself thinking primarily one thought: “Wow, Joe LoDuca listened to Peter Gabriel’s Passion somewhere between the first two seasons, didn’t he?” LoDuca (well, I think it’s LoDuca - see related notes in our recent review of the first volume of Xena music) throws in some modernization on the percussive end of things, reminding me of nothing so much as some of the more interesting (if anachronistic) tracks from the aforementioned album which gathered Gabriel’s soundtrack cues for The Last Temptation Of Christ. Not that this is altogether a bad thing, mind you.

There’s also some seasonal fun with a healthy helping of music from A Solstice Carol, a Christmas-themed episode which made for some loving musical tips of the yuletide hat.

Overall, an interesting CD whose music is indicative of an overall shift in the “feel” of the series.

1. Main Title (1:22)
2. At Mother’s Tomb (3:00)
3. Xena Kicks Bacchae Butt (2:03)
4. Pop Goes Xena (1:11)
5. Quicksand (1:25)
6. Squeal (2:01)
7. Sword Play (1:27)
8. Homeland (3:29)
9. Capoiera Fight (1:23)
10. Many Winters Ago (2:17)
11. Stowaway (1:53)
12. You Really Believe That (1:05)
13. Rrarr! (3:48)
14. Friend (1:37)
15. Crucifixion Of Xena / Up The Mountain (2:28)
16. To The Rescue (1:42)
17. Fighting Destiny (2:08)
18. Talk With Solan (1:12)
19. The Ballad of Joxer the Mighty (1:12)
20. Solstice Night (2:13)
21. The First Fate / Suspended Gabby (3:22)
22. Where As Me / Gabby & Toys (2:20)
23. More Fun And Games / Feather Fight (3:12)
24. Hard Core Fishing (1:23)
25. River Wild (1:37)
26. Xena Is Bitten (1:33)
27. Restoration (2:11)
28. Caught In The Current (3:48)
29. Callisto Becomes A God (2:04)
30. Swamp Creatures / Imposter (2:40)

Released by: Varese Sarabande
Release date: 1997
Total running time: 67:03