Local reviews

July 5, 2009

Local Reviews
3 new spins from Northern Michigan musicians
By Kristi Kates 7/6/09

There have been an unusual number of new recordings from musicians throughout Northern Michigan this year. Here’s a listen to the latest:

Organixx - Positive New Dub

Elk Rapids’ Reisig brothers’ rap/reggae/rock project, Organixx (the brothers - Jeremy and Sean - also have another band, Funktion), sees them teaming up with a number of guest players; Andrew Schrock and Brock Fegan on vocals, Andrew Briggs on guitar, Terrence Massey on alto/tenor sax and tumpet, and Randy Gist on tenor sax.
All of these performers are, of course, credited on the album’s liner notes, as are a plethora of other people; the band name-checks everyone from their parents to the contributors several times over (“you guys are awesome!”) - and while it might all seem a bit over the top at first, it’s actually nice to see such enthusiasm in an otherwise jaded industry, and the band’s music reflects this same energetic approach.
Upon hearing the start of track one (“New Dub”) it’s obvious that the production here is organized and clean. Although most of the arrangements are quite spare, for the most part, there’s still a lot of depth in their sound, a welcome balance of reverb, and the kind of subtle background elements you’d hear on a bigger-budget release. “New Dub” serves as a simply-stated intro of sorts to the band’s philosophy (“new dub/what does it mean/the music you hear each and every day/affects the way you live each and every way”), which is full of both positive reinforcement and camaraderie.
“Rock Original” features rap over acoustic guitar, which is striking on its own, but is expanded even more later when it’s joined by wah guitar and an echoey tambourine, crafting a sound that wouldn’t be out of place on the main stage at Blissfest. “Northland” is perhaps the album’s most intriguing tune, as it takes the unique approach of alternating the rapping - which is initially done over nothing more than a shaker - with a soulful, separate vocal line, both complemented by spacious guitar. And “Catalyst” is the most Red Hot Chili Peppers-reminiscent of the set (these are essentially white-boy reggae-rappers, after all), with its repetitively-catchy two-note guitar riff and well-played bongos (a compliment given that bongos can often sound either trite or extraneous.)
While there’s a decent amount of storytelling going on, the lyrics, while solid, aren’t really anything groundbreaking; but coupled with the band’s enthusiastic delivery and the sly pop twists of their arrangements in what would otherwise be just another festival band, they fit with the music and enhance the overall sound of what is a lively and concisely-performed album.


Moonbeam - Moonbeam

Moonbeam - real name unknown - first gained attention in the Northern Michigan area when she visited to attend a local songwriter’s workshop. Well, she either had a solid musical foundation in the first place, or that workshop must have taught her quite a bit. From the first song, “Uncommon Ground,” Moonbeam shows that she has a real grasp on interesting songwriting that moves out of the box just often enough, but not so frequently that the songs themselves lose direction. What does lose focus here are some of the arrangements and the overall production quality, which often unfortunately sounds like she’s recording in some kind of simultaneously deadened and metallic tunnel.
The first song, while indeed showcasing Moonbeam’s writing, also has, simply put, way too much going on; the drums and percussion are all over the place, as if whomever is in charge of the rhythm section (no liner notes were given) felt the need to cram as much as possible into the song’s space. By the fifth song, the catchy “Addicted,” someone else has chosen to embellish the otherwise good track with an overblown ‘80s hair-band guitar solo that is completely unnecessary and detracts from the song’s hook.
Luckily, Moonbeam, her production team, or whomever’s in charge get a clue towards the end of the set, and leave the artist on her own (for the most part) to do what she does best - perform her emotional compositions.
“Love Me Too Much” is an example of how pulling back in production can showcase a talented singer far better than an overload of bells and whistles; Moonbeam’s singing is simply backed with lounge-y piano, which leaves plenty of room for her dark-toned vocals, especially the last 30 seconds, on which she reaches for and beautifully executes a high note that she also manages to infuse with emotion. “Rest of Me” is another example - it’s just Moonbeam, a guitar, and a violin - and it encourages you to listen far more than all of those other trappings.
Many of Moonbeam’s songs deal with struggle and some fairly serious subject matter - so this isn’t an album for casual or “fun” listening, per se - but it is an impressive introduction to the singer-songwriter’s skills, if not yet produced well enough to show her at her best.

(Look for a story on Moonbeam in next week’s Express)

Jetty Rae - Blackberries

Another singer-songwriter, Charlevoix’s Jetty Rae presents her album in a professional-looking package, with tone-shaded photographs of the singer surrounded by vinyl records, broken heart shapes, and what looks like a ukelele; the art design is miles ahead of what normally surfaces on independent releases in this region, so kudos to her for that. Unfortunately, the contents don’t live up to the level that the package suggests it might.
The majority of her lyrics veer between cliche (“my heart left broken/and my eyes all sore,” “I hope this time I get it right/I hope this time I win the fight”) and the typical melodramatic sort of rhyming verse one might hear at a junior high poetry slam (“I was headstrong/lyrically complacent/in a spiritual basement/to say the least/influential with the potential”), but at least Rae’s aspirations seem to be in the right place, as most of the songs tackle matters of growth or serve as character sketches of people she’s met (she also sweetly dedicates one song to her grandfather.)
Rae’s voice is on pitch and is good enough - she sounds like a cross between a countrified Tori Amos and a bored Jewel - but the whole set is somewhat tepid and never really gets off the ground. One thing that does pop out is the guest appearance of Jesse Carrasco, who adds a low-aggression rap (yes, rap) echoing Rae’s vocal on “Holes,” which adds some texture - but even that doesn’t work if you’re looking at the album as a cohesive set, as it arrives out of nowhere, attracts your interest, and then sends the rest of the album back to that aimless flow.
As background coffeeshop music, sure, it’s nice. Rae can sing, and she obviously put a lot of effort into presenting her music. But as a standalone album, it seems like she needs to amp up her lyric-writing skills and find a little more verve to put into her vocal performances; then perhaps her next album will do her good intentions justice.