Joe Bonamassa
The Ballad of John Henry
(Premier Artists)
In a bluesy, blue-collar homage to grit and grime, Joe Bonamassa sings tales of suffering, love, and hope on The Ballad of John Henry. Shifting between blues, classic rock and prog-rock, the album offers serious on-the-road, windows-down balladry. With an intimate yet tough-love relationship with his guitar, Bonamassa finger picks, jams and dissonantly crafts an unmistakable ambience. The CD, featuring powerful originals and a handful of covers (by Tom Waits, Tony Joe White and others), attempts to melodically embrace the plight of the traveling man. Bonamassa appears at the Calvin Theater in Northampton on Feb. 26. —Fraylie Nord
Luka Bloom
Eleven Songs
(Bar None Records)
I first saw Irish singer/songwriter Luka Bloom in 1988, when he opened for the Pogues. An instrumental breakdown that never made it to his albums exploded from his guitar with strange Irish/Eastern dissonance, and the lack of that gorgeous instrumental section on his Riverside disappointed. On Eleven Songs, Bloom suffers from the same kind of lack. There is beautiful love balladry here, some rhythmic adventurousness and rollicking Celtic-flavored guitar. While the ballads often soar with Bloom's brand of compelling grace, the fire is missing; Bloom's occasional anger seems less than angry. No doubt Bloom still brings his melodies to glorious life onstage, but only some of them seem to have translated well to the studio. —James Heflin
A.C. Newman
Get Guilty
(Matador)
The second solo CD from New Pornographers mastermind Carl Newman reinforces his evolution from amped-up power pop to reflective chamber rock. Get Guilty features infectious melodies, off-kilter hooks and oblique lyrics, but they're accompanied by generous doses of horns and violin. Highlights like the skittering "Like A Hitman, Like A Dancer," baroque shuffle of "The Collected Works," and offhandedly anthemic "All of My Days" are worthy additions to Newman's impressive catalog. But the frequently plodding tempos ensure these tunes take a while to register. This is a decidedly minor work, but Newman seems content to offer slight variations on his music's reliable pleasures. —Jeff Jackson
High Places
High Places
(Thrill Jockey)
I will say this for High Places—they are very aptly named. Mary Pearson and Rob Barber comprise the duo, spawned in Brooklyn's Fort Greene neighborhood, and this is their first and hopefully last release. Put forth as quasi-spiritual, this pretentious, self-indulgent creation is basically some beats overlaid with keyboards, vaguely aboriginal/jungle sounds and washy melodic vocals. Somehow this effort seems just too hipper-than-thou to be genuine, coming from Brooklyn scenesters. Some of the lyrics might be a saving grace, but in general, if I want to hear stuff like this, I'll just tune in to an episode of Animal Planet. —Tom Sturm
