Many Happy Returns: Duran Duran, the Libertines & More
Duran Duran: Paper Gods (Warner Bros.) I’m not sure what it means when a new album by Duran Duran is as listenable, forward-looking, and not dogged by a lead vocalist who tries too hard but often misses as this thing is…but here you go. Duran Duran in 2015 are aging rockers who started semi-arty, exploded massively as teenfave pop stars, faded a bit, and now seem entirely plausible getting arty all over again. This is really pretty good. Guest stars abound– Janelle Monáe, Nile Rodgers, Kiesza, Mr. Hudson—but they add more texture than substance here, and the core Duran sound, such as it is and ever was, has gotten better with age (or everything else has gotten worse), and veers on the scary side of entirely legitimate. More people than usual will probably like this a lot.
[Related: Duran Duran’s Simon Le Bon on How the Band ‘Outlasted the Haters’ to Become ‘Cool Again’]
The Libertines: Anthems For Doomed Youth (Harvest) One of the week’s most unexpected releases is this return by the UK’s brilliant and troubled Libertines, whose last album came out in 2004, essentially three lifetimes ago. Drugs and chaos intervened, conspicuously, nearly laughably so—an absolute tragedy, but the band’s Pete Doherty was so famously troubled, his various mishaps often seemed like someone’s sadistic parody of bad pop-stardom—yet here they are again, sounding aged, worn and, happily, quite good. You could make a case that some of the very best rock ’n’ roll bands in history worked best when they contained two major figures working together, in tandem or at odds, and the Libertines, with Doherty and Carl Barât, are the best example of that in memory: Between 2004’s The Libertines and 2015’s Anthems For Doomed Youth, there were Doherty’s Babyshambles, Barât’s Dirty Pretty Things and other solo permutations—but nothing worked like the Libertines, and what worked then appears to be working now in surprisingly strong fashion. Rock, hooks, anthemic and fun—this is good rock ‘n’ roll in 2015, made by a band most of us never expected to hear from again.
[Related: Carl Barat Looks Back at The Libertines, Looks Ahead With The Jackals]
Gary Clark Jr.: The Story Of Sonny Boy Slim (Warner Bros.) Self-produced and all the better for it—the only sound being “gone for” format-wise is Clark’s own, which is no small thing in 2015—Sonny Boy Slim is a rich, sonically textured album that speaks well both for guitarist Clark as a modern-day blues artist, and, for that matter, modern-day blues itself. Amid the blues, R&B, and even echoes of gospel, Clark has put together a thematically unified collection driven by character and emotion that sounds aggressively modern and, in its way, almost subversively progressive. While he’s obviously no stranger to blues tradition, Clark does not appear to be confined by it–and that’s to his benefit and ours.
[Related: See It First: Gary Clark Jr. Explains the Making of ‘The Story of Sonny Boy Slim’]
Ben Folds: So There (New West) There was a period some years back—maybe a lot of years back—when it looked likely that Ben Folds was on his way to carving out a pop niche somewhere midway between Elton John and Todd Rundgren—a dynamic keyboardist and singer with a knack for pop hooks occasionally verging on the unforgettable. But it never quite happened like that. Lots of records, some very good, some less so, some deliberately experimental, some unfocused, etc. Last we heard, he was a judge on some second-string reality TV music show. But then there’s stuff like this: An unexpectedly strong and focused record feature Folds playing so-called “chamber pop” with the (enviably named) yMusic Ensemble and a full-on 20-plus minute piano concerto with the Nashville Symphony. It all sounds lush, good, strong, creative, and like the work of an artist that maybe with a tad more focus could get his groove back, commercially speaking, get off that TV circuit, and start making music that matters even more.
Shemekia Copeland: Outskirts Of Love (Alligator) While Gary Clark does his fine thing for major label Warners, here’s the latest showing by a similarly inspired musician with roots in blues/soul/R&B and more. Daughter of blues guitarist Johnny Copeland, Shemekia at the age of 36 has a distinguished career behind her—blues awards galore—and ahead of her, if this set is any indication. A return to the Alligator label after almost a decade away, Outskirts features material popularized by the likes of Solomon Burke, Albert King, Jesse Winchester and ZZ Top, and guest appearances by Billy Gibbons himself, Robert Randolph, Alvin Youngblood Hart and more. It’s more than a famous songs w/ guest stars record, though: Copeland is a powerful vocalist, a colorful belter, and a consistently convincing interpreter of material, as her rendition of ZZ’s “Jesus Just Left Chicago” makes abundantly clear. It’s hard to do that one justice. Solid, strong and inspirational, Copeland is systematically laying down a significant legacy, and this is only the latest.
The California Honeydrops: A River’s Invitation (Tubtone) This one was playing in the background while I was otherwise engaged and—always a good sign—I stopped, said, wait, what is this again?, and took another look. With a name one step removed from Buddy Miles and singing raisins, Oakland’s California Honeydrops establish that sort of jazzy blues groove you can imagine a host of early-‘70s FIllmore bands playing back in those days of Boz Scaggs/Mother Earth/Cold Blood/Tower Of Power. Retro? Sure, but also warm, filled with good cheer, and exactly the sort of band you wouldn’t mind seeing play live in the park on a warm, late summer afternoon. And I would imagine the live show is the thing. Details here.
Low: Ones And Sixes (Sub Pop) The band that for many remains the epitome of slowcore is still out there and wow, they sound good right now. Drones, plods, minimal beats, reverb, male/female vocal harmonies that might’ve dropped off an HP Lovecraft album, a consistent batch of electronic scraggle either enormously avant-garde or the sign of a corrupt download—and truly, what is the difference?—this is well thought out, precisely played music, however slow and understated, and which sonically doesn’t seem to belong to any era in particular. It just is. Very, and surprisingly, good.
