JANUARY 2020 REVIEWS

by Mike Baron

LANNIE FLOWERS: Home (Spyderpop)

Career defining collection of songs that grab you by the throat, filled with self-reflection and experience, a full power pop palette, mostly mid-tempo, sucking you in with smart chords and stories, on a level with John Hiatt or John Mellencamp. “Running,” is a series of cascading chords like a mountain stream, Lannie’s guitar gleaming like a vein of gold that runs through every song. “My Street” has the power of Mellencamp’s “Small Town.” The pensive, Crowded House-like “Anyway” hides a head-smacking whammy in the middle and trombone caboose. The acoustic “In Time” is a Dylanesque fable with a McCartney bridge. Whole thing reminds me of Woodface. Lannie sometimes sounds like Scott Miller in conversational tone and insight, with a more polished band. Too many grace notes to list. Elton John should cover “Missing You Tonight,” with its wild, sinuous guitar solo.

Song after song. One of the year’s best.

RYAN HAMILTON AND THE HARLEQUIN GHOSTS: This is the Sound (Wicked Cool)

Fiendish jangle machine hits the ground running with “Mamacita,” Rick Derringer like shout-out, great girls division. The Harlequin Ghosts are a muscle car on the same track as Kurt Baker and Ryan Allen, although Hamilton sounds even more straight ahead, if that’s possible. “Bottom’s Up” probably shouldn’t be played within city limits, but it is a safe alternative to meth, and sounds a little like the late, great The Cry! “Get Down” is a dance party. With “Far Cry,” Hamilton sounds a little Swedish as in Genuine Flakes. Hamilton’s conversational tone on “All Fall Down” is jangle Scott Miller. The title track is a power pop ode to joy.

SHPLANG: Los Grandes Excritos (Big Stir)

Los Angeles-based Shplang was formed by Peter Marston and John Krause in 1994. Excritos is a compilation of songs from their previous three albums plus some new stuff, combining a bucket of hooks, novelty song elements such as mumbled vocals and whistling (“Birds Go “Round,”) and banjo. There’s a Midwest simplicity and sweetness to them that reminds me of the Hawks. “Delacroix” could have come off the first Moby Grape album, released before they were born. The McCartneyesque “No One Knows” has the George Martin touch in the trombone, and the refrain is pure Ram. “Tokyo Go-Go” sounds like  Manga soundtrack with unintelligible vocals leading into am Abbey Road change-up. “Birds Go ‘Round” is another McCartneysque gem featuring mandolin and whistling. “That Word Is Love” has those Moby Grape chords beneath a terrible loverboy pitch followed by a Rudy Vallee refrain. Outstanding.

THE JELLYBRICKS: Some Kind of Lucky (Wicked Cool)

Jellybricks hits the bullseye with Some Kind Of Lucky, their best album. Certain bands have an instantly identifiable sound due to song structure (Marshall Crenshaw,) vocals (Jellyfish,) or instrumentation. You hear echoes of previous Jellybricks in songs like “Brooklyn,” which uses similar chords to “Rock And Roll Suicide.” Their stacked harmonies recall The Glad Machine, but they’re absorbing fifty years of power pop from Cheap Trick to Throwback Suburbia. When that tom-tom beat kicks in on “Mrs. Misery,” it grabs your ears in both hands. The anthemic “DOA” is begging for some practical application, such as a theme song to a situation comedy about first responders. “Every Hour” leads with fat, iconic guitar like something out of Rick Derringer or Jeff Beck. “No Money” sounds like something Bill Lloyd would write, but the harmonies set it apart plus the fat guitar freakout. There are no duds or filler. Every song demands its own movie.