Easy Street Online review by Ian Bremner

The ageless wonder that is Willie Nelson. It’s difficult to imagine a figure like Nelson is even real. He has outlasted his sometimes cartoonish stoner reputation to remain a country music legend well into 2017 which, if you take the state of country music as an industry, is quite comical. He can do a song with Snoop Dogg, make a reggae album, and follow it up with a Ray Price tribute record years later like nothing happened. He can do covers, duets, fingerpick or just plain sing. Nelson has made over 100 albums, not all of them great, but that’s what makes him great. His new record, God’s Problem Child, is one of the truly exceptional ones.

You would be hard pressed to ever find a more self-aware 83-year-old. Willie knows even he is not immortal, an idea he explores rather bluntly on the new record. Over the last year, anytime Willie Nelson starts trending on the Internet, a virtual and collective gasp takes place as we nervously click to see what the news may be. More often than not, it’s usually just Willie being Willie. God’s Problem Child is vintage Willie. There is some modern production, but for the most part it’s a stripped back vehicle for some poignant lyrics, much like Red Headed Stranger or Shotgun Willie. After David Bowie and Leonard Cohen’s last albums, listeners may take liberty to listen deeper, to find darker meaning in the lyrics. Nelson toys with this concept with the jaunty track, "Still Not Dead," which is about checking the Internet and reading about his death, but in reality, NOPE - still not dead. Getting older is the main theme of the record, yet he’s never unhappy about it. Some of the album’s standouts like "Old Timer," his Merle-tribute "He Won’t Ever Be Gone" and "It Gets Easier" are about the pure beauty of old age.

Willie Nelson is the type of legend that can live off his name, but he continues to push forward, which is truly inspiring. God’s Problem Child may go back in time style-wise, but it is as modern a country record as you will find.

Easy Street Online review by Ian Bremner

Josh Tillman’s public profile has grown quite steadily since the release of his first album as Father John Misty. His debut, Fear Fun, was an outstanding California folk-rock record seeped in psychedelics, but was often times still billed as the “drummer from Fleet Foxes’ solo project.” By the time 2015’s I Love You Honeybear came around, people were hip to Josh Tillman for his music and his highly-quotable sense of humor. At this point in his career, his “persona” is as much of a talking point as is his third album, Pure Comedy. As the world continues to prove outrageous headlines get people fired up the most, blogs have used his antics as clickbait, rather than let people listen to his music and actually determine for themselves. As a result, a lot of folks immediately label him an arrogant, pretentious dick.

“Father John Misty” is used to generate clicks much the way Kanye West is. Anything he does or says is often turned into a full blog post and it has led him to, of course, toy with the audacity of it all. When he pens a line like, “bedding Taylor Swift every night inside the oculus rift,” he knows exactly the backlash that he will get on the internet. He saw what happened to Kanye West. But, for as many Father John Misty haters - and there are many - there is a growing number of adoring fans and apologists. One of the beautiful ironies of Pure Comedy, is the fact that he is using this media-driven phenomenon to promote an album about exactly these concepts.

The ironic messaging, although insanely vivid, is not always easy to translate in Tillman’s lyrics. Pure Comedy, however, makes no mistake of its intention: to differentiate the divide between art and entertainment. Most music serves the purpose to entertain. You put music on at a party. You dance to music, you smoke and drink and chat with music in the background. Art is something you have to actively engage in, interpret, discuss, or think about. For good reason, those are not elements all people want to delve into when they put on a record. Pure Comedy’s brilliance is in spite of its unwillingness to be easily-listenable, danceable or “entertaining.”

Easy Street Online review by Ian Bremner

On a near-universal level, the biggest fear of any artist is to be put into a box with labels that may or not be accurate to the music, but undoubtedly put preconceived notions into the heads of potential listeners. For All Them Witches, this fear could be fairly more prevalent than most bands, OR they may not care one bit. They are a band who is incredibly hard to label. You can’t necessarily call them a “Nashville Band” because only one member of the group actually calls the city in which they met and formed, still home. You can’t call them a “Southern Rock” band because that brings to mind the likes of Tom Petty or Lynyrd Skynyrd, when really, they are closer in line to the Melvins or other noise-rock bands. You could call them “blues” or “punk” or “metal” but none of those really feel right either.

Another reason deciphering what to call All Them Witches is difficult, is each record they release has its entirely own spin on their sound. Their fifth record, Sleeping Through The War adds new layers to their heavy rock n roll by shedding the noise. There is more space, more room to breath and less guitar solos. Yet still intact, is the sludgy blues-based rhythms and heart-pounding grooves. 

All Them Witches is a highway experienced, American rock n roll band in its essence. Touches of grunge, sprinkles of southern blues with Nashville roots, made them the perfect band for superstar producer Dave Cobb to get involved with. Cobb has to be the most popular producer in the country, certainly in Nashville after his recent hot streak of Sturgill Simpson, Jason Isbell and Chris Stapleton records. It was Cobb who in fact, wanted to work with All Them Witches. He saw a uniqueness to them that is accurately described as “refreshing.” Certainly not all bands can pull off what All Them Witches are doing right now.

Sleeping Through The War is a hard hitting, yet very easily digestible blues/not blues, punk/not punk record that sounds like the new Nashville…but not.

Easy Street Online review by Ian Bremner

Jack Cooper and James Hoare were both on tour in separate bands when they met. They quickly realized they shared a lot in common musically, and anyone who has listened to the two of them make music can probably see why.

The two men from London not only write similarly, but sound similar as well. When the come together as Ultimate Painting, it truly is hard to tell whose part is whose. Dusk is the third album from the duo and although it may be easy to label them as “indie pop,” they have a clean musicality to them that makes for supremely easy listening.

As the name suggests, Dusk sounds good in dim lighting like a lot of good '60s pop records. It’s quiet, yet full of sound. It’s guitar pop, yet poetic.

Easy Street Online review by Ian Bremner

Cass McCombs has been doing this a long time. He knows what he’s doing and he does not sit still. The Bay Area artist has been pumping out albums for a decade. He is an outstanding guitar player and songwriter, yet his style is always changing. His debut for Anti Records, Mangy Love, may be his best. Summer and Fall 2016 have been so good to us as music consumers.

Cass McCombs dropped Mangy Love in the middle of Frank Ocean hype and Angel Olsen’s instant-classic My Woman, but it deserves to be up there with both of those records. In this harshly political season, perhaps we can all listen to the words of McCombs and an album like Mangy Love. His wit and wry lyrics hit even deeper than normal and touch on everything including racist government, misogyny, California porn industry. Everything. It’s not a protest record or anything of the like, because you have to listen hard to pick up certain vibes, but that is never a chore on Mangy Love.

The music surrounding the messages is plain beautiful so it could be easy to get lost. Swirling guitars, horns flirting with soul tunes join blues and folk rock with a hint of '80s, but sometimes all at the same time, making it difficult to pin down, but very easy to enjoy.

Easy Street Online review by Ian Bremner

My Woman is out and Angel Olsen is heading on tour with a six-piece band (Seattle show is 2/18 at the Neptune). The number of band members may sound like overkill for anyone who associates Olsen with the lo-fi songwriting tendencies of her previous albums. Turns out, the only overkill is the "lo-fi" descriptor itself still being applied to her.

Though there are lo-fi elements from time to time, My Woman is so far beyond that. It's a gorgeous rock 'n' roll record, with layers that grow upon each listen. The first five tracks set the tone with a controlled, raucous feel. Electric guitar, synths, and drums fill the soundscape with Angel Olsen’s voice in full command throughout. The last five tracks slow it down and stretch it out.

Where the first two singles, "Intern" and "Shut Up Kiss Me," demonstrate the direction Olsen is taking, there is a noticeable shift in the album at "Heart-Shaped Face," the sixth track. My Woman plays like a classic A-Side/B-Side record. The A-Side ROCKKSS and the B-Side BURNNSS. By the time album standout, "Sister" comes around, Olsen’s voice is steady at the forefront, rolling over Crazy Horse-styled guitar solos. It’s an eerie, lonesome type of beauty best found in classic '70s albums. My Woman packs plenty of punch, but the two seven-minute burners ("Sister" and "Woman") stick out most without isolating themselves from the bunch.

By Ian Bremner, Easy Street Records

As long as there is no ill intent or instinctual violence or anything, people usually react well to a good surprise. For example, some may look surprised if you were to tell them that one of the best country albums of the last year came from a gentleman relatively unknown outside of his hometown in Anacortes, Washington.

Karl Blau has been making albums since the late 1990s and has accumulated upwards of 40 LPs to his name. Why is his latest album titled Introducing Karl Blau, you ask? Perhaps it is as tongue-in-cheek as it is fitting.

Blau, a member of Anacortes’ Knw-Yr-Own/K Records collective is a musical scientist. He seems to never be quite finished experimenting with new sounds, styles and genres. This time he settled upon recording a collection of classic, somewhat underground, country covers. Introducing is not just a cover album however. Each song, whether it's "How I Got To Memphis," an original Tom T Hall song, or Link Wray’s "Fallin' Rain," Blau makes completely his own. Much like Sturgill Simpson’s "The Promise" and "In Bloom," when listening to the album, you are fully absorbed into Blau’s voice and words until you get the feeling, “I swear this sounds familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

One thing you can put your finger on, is the play button immediately after the album ends.

By Ian Bremner, Easy Street Records

Leaving the artistic hotbed of New York city can sometimes draw different forms of inspiration, and a bit of California air can do the body and mind good. When Kevin Morby moved westbound to the hills outside of Los Angeles, a piano from the previous tenants greeted him. Though a beginner at the piano, Morby quickly picked up some essential chords and thus, began the initial foundation for his beautiful new album, Singing Saw.

Morby, who has played bass with WOODS, and founded the band Babies, is one of the purest songwriters in recent memory. His third solo album, Singing Saw, is as smooth of a record as you could ask for. The nine-track record flows beautifully with sparse, but lush, natural sounds with enough acoustic and electric guitar with sweet piano to bring it all together. At the forefront however, remains the voice and words of Kevin Morby.

The west coast breeze, sun-covered hills and city lights of Los Angeles in the background almost become real life to the listener, but he makes it apparent that not all sunny days are happy days. Beneath the beauty of the arrangements, there is a present darkness to the lyrics. Singing Saw manages to bring the gritty New York alleyways to the bright greenery of California. A clearing in the fog. A hole in the clouds.

By Ian Bremner, Easy Street Records

With a voice like Sturgill Simpson, a lot of people would willingly listen to him sing the alphabet for 30 minutes. Thankfully, for those of us who have come to adore everything Sturgill Simpson in the last 2-3 years, there are an awful lot of stories that come with that southern croon.

The 37-year old Kentucky native came from making waves as an underground country singer with High Top Mountain and Metamodern Sounds In Country Music, to navigating real waves with his third album, A Sailor’s Guide To Earth. Reaching this level of success in his “later years,” as far as the music industry is concerned, has allowed him to view his music and newfound celebrity with gratitude and a unique perspective. Sturgill has been ignored by Music Row in Nashville because he found a way to reach the masses without their help. He has spent decades playing in smoky bars to empty rooms with his band, Sunday Valley. He has worked on the railroad. He has been in the Navy. He has literal Sea Stories.

Signing with a major label has its pros and cons and undoubtedly sparks skepticism from longtime fans. Sturgill Simpson proves, however, that with a creative brain and “take no bullshit” attitude, a bigger budget just opens up more opportunities to let your pipe-dream ideas come to life. You want horns on the record? Get the Dap-Kings! You want to do a Nirvana song? Do it.

Most people love to label him as the acid-taking cowboy or the savior to “outlaw country,” but comparing him to any contemporaries or country legends is a slope as slippery as the bow of a battleship. He may as well be the Kendrick Lamar of country music. Throw out any preconceived notions, prepare to be surprised and trust that they know what they’re doing.

Conceptually an ode to his newborn child, A Sailors Guide To Earth was written in short, poetry-format on the road during the seemingly endless Metamodern tours. This record is the first without cohort/super-producer Dave Cobb and Sturgill took over the reins. He knew what he wanted to say with each song and how he wanted it to sound. It was now a matter of pulling it all together. Turns out, 4 days is all he needed. The album plays like a life lesson to his now 2-year old son. The first track, Welcome To Earth (Pollywog), quite literally could be the first words spoken to him, “hello my son.”

The 9-track, 39 minute album is a sonic trek through life: starting with a young child, growing into angsty teenager (cue the Nirvana), and ending with a roaring Call To Arms against the anti-war, anti-conformity, anti-bullshit that plagues the news cycles in 2016. Appropriately, the transitions of seagulls and buoy dings between songs only add to the listening voyage. Though the lush production of strings and horns may catch the ear of his young son now, it might take a while for the overall sentiment to sink in.

Like most “guides,” A Sailor’s Guide To Earth, lays out some rules for the road, some tips for the trade and wise advice from someone who’s been through it all. Interpreting the map is a different ballgame, and one to be learned on your own. As Sturgill claims in Keep Between The Lines, “do as I say, don’t do as I’ve done, it don’t have to be like father like son.”

Fans looking for a Metamodern II will be forced to keep looking, just as they’ll be waiting around a long time for Sailors Guide II. He made his country record. He made his psychedelic record. Now, here lies his tide-riding soul record. For Sturgill Simpson, life moves on, the ship sails and we can only hope to keep riding whatever wave he is on.

By Ian Bremner, Easy Street Records

Iggy Pop and Josh Homme have teamed up to create an LP that draws from what the both of them do best. A little punk, a little desert guitar, a little Detroit grit and some brief longing for the Berlin days.

Unofficially dubbed as the sequel to the 1977’s Lust For Life, Iggy is as angsty as ever. It is not too surprising given his music retirement comments, but the production of Homme lifts it up enough to prevent the weight becoming too heavy. The rant against modern culture on the last song, "Paraguay," may be heard as the typical “pissed off old guy,” but the rock icon deserves to do what he damn well pleases and be heard. In a time where his legendary colleagues like Lou Reed and David Bowie aren’t around anymore, Iggy is the one guy who bridges so many generations. Josh Homme dubbed him the “last of the one and onlys.”

There are happy moments of course. There is a beautiful string section towards the end of "Sunday," and "Gardenia" is technically a love song.

Josh Homme recruited his Queens Of The Stone Age comrade, Dean Fertita and Artic Monkeys’ drummer, Matt Helders to round out the group and will head out on tour. Whether it is truly Iggy’s last remains to be seen, but for the time being, the actual “post-iggy pop-depression” can be held off until further notice.

By Andrew Lee for Easy Street Records

When I press play on an opening track like “Prime,” the change is almost instant. The music I hear is so appealing it changes my life. The ordinary life becomes the extraordinary life just by virtue of the music, if only for a few minutes. Ironically, I don’t really even know what Jonathan Meiburg is singing about. I can’t easily understand all the lyrics, but it doesn’t matter. In this case it’s all about the music and the feeling. And to me, music like this feels amazing. But why? It’s that electronic hook mainly. It lights up something inside me - some kind of internal recognition receptor turns on and just, like, glows. It’s like something was out there, or maybe it was inside me, and I knew it was there but I couldn’t find it, so I couldn't say it, but I can recognize it when I hear the band play it.

And that’s just the first song.

And no, they’re not all like that. Musicians can’t be magicians every time. But in the case of Jet Plane And Oxbow, the power of Shearwater’s opening trick is strong enough to light a path all the way to the end of the album for both the band and their listeners.

By Andrew Lee for Easy Street Records

If music were clothing then Jason Isbell’s latest album would be like one of those favorite shirts. You know, the one you reach for more than the others, the one that fits right and feels good - the one that doesn’t go out of style. Something More Than Free is a comfortable, well-made album that deserves some heavy rotation in the playlists of singer-songwriter appreciators everywhere.

Opening track “If It Takes a Lifetime” would not sound too out of place on a late 70’s Kenny Rogers album - and if you don’t think that’s a compliment then I don’t know what to do with you. “Hudson Commodore” could have been a hit for Eagles in their heyday. “Speed Trap Town” evokes the best of Nebraska-era Springsteen.

Don’t put this one on to rock out. Don’t put this one on to dance. Put this album on to think and reflect and question, to come to terms and plan and move forward somehow. This music is good for staying up late, driving around, learning lyrics and singing along. There’s a lot of acoustic, mid-tempo shuffling stuff and the electric guitar flavors are used sparingly but to great effect on songs like “24 Frames,” "Children of Children,” and “Palmetto Rose.”

A strong sense of memory and character and story abounds on these songs, and there’s plenty of conflict and regret, but there’s also a feeling of purpose and potential for good. Isbell asks questions (“The Life You Chose”) and he offers answers (“24 Frames”) and he sings about work like the grown-ass man that he is (“If It Takes a Lifetime,” “Something More than Free”). Recently my 12-year-old nephew declared that I didn’t like the same kind of music he did because he was into “singer-songwriter.” He offered 17-year-old internet discovery Shawn Mendes as an example of a singer-songwriter he was into. I’ve got nothing against Shawn Mendes, nephew, but hopefully someday you’ll learn to think of someone like Jason Isbell instead, because Something More Than Free is what real man singing and songwriting is all about.

By Andrew Lee for Easy Street Records

Just a quick note to let you know that I’ve listened to Leon Bridges' new album, Coming Home, several times now and I’ve come to the following conclusions:

- Leon Bridges is a pretty smooth dude. His vocal phrasings are nicely toasted to the low burning embers of the music - no marshmallows catch fire on this album if you know what I mean - and I was continually left wanting s’more of Leon's sound. This can be both a good thing and a bad thing - maybe Leon is a little too nicely toasted at times. Maybe it would be nice to hear him really let loose and catch fire - he certainly has the voice for it. Perhaps he lets things hang out a little more in his live shows - some artists are great on record but even better live.

- I like soul. I need more of it in my life and in my music collection. I go through life with a damper on my feelings most of the time and it can be liberating to listen to a honey-throated heartbreaker sing it with feeling (whatever “it” may be). If I was a singer I think I’d want to be the soulful kind who could sing those “Baby, baby, baby’s” and “Whoa girl’s" like Leon, in a way to make the ladies lean forward and listen.

- “Coming Home” is far and away the best song on the album, which is probably why it is the title track and why it was also the demo song that got him significant radio airplay and attention from major labels, leading to a deal with Columbia. Unfortunately, “Coming Home” is also the first track on the album, which could make it a downhill trip from there for some listeners. I’m here to tell you to hang in there and keep listening. “Better Man,” “Smooth Sailin’,” "Lisa Sawyer,” “Pull Away,” and “River” are also standout tracks that deserve attention. Leon’s music has what I call “instant atmosphere” and by virtue of his velvety vocals and smooth, retro style he can make any room and any person in that room feel instantly cooler with the sound of any of the tracks on this album.

- I’ve seen names like Sam Cooke, Otis Redding, and Marvin Gaye written in connection with Leon’s. I hear the similarities, though his voice doesn’t have the same kind of grit or power or passion of any of these, but of course not and so what? He’s awfully close, but I don’t really want him to be any of these guys anyway. I want him to be himself, and on the strength of this, his debut album in what surely could be a long and successful career, he is succeeding wildly at doing just that.