Adam Salsman [dot] com

Feist, oh darling Feist.

My love affair with this album started with a video for “1, 2, 3, 4″ which Caitlin posted at her internets music musings blog, Beginning to See the Light. I mean, really, metallic blue tube top pants suit? Genius.

Anyway, I heard the song, and then played it a dozen more times. So simple, so beautiful, so wonderful.

So what did I do? Well, two things: immediately (and illegally) downloaded it and the proceeded to purchase it because it’s so damn good.

That’s right. I bought the album. Baby don’t buy an album unless it’s good. It’s a good start.

The album starts a little slow, with “So Sorry,” most assuredly a break up tune. But, like a label pairing of opener and headliner, it’s good… just differently so.

I Feel It All and My Moon My Man (sounding remarkably Spoon-ish), however, kick things up. Mind you, kicking it up on this album isn’t exactly rock and roll. It’s just… pardon the pun… Feistier.

The whole album roller coasters up and down like this, but never wavers in quality.

There are some truly amazing tracks, ones that just jump out at me. My Moon My Man, as mentioned, is evocative of Spoon which immediately kicks it up in my book. Sea Lion Woman feels like it could have been ripped either from Nina Simone or Paul Simon (during his African tribal beats days). 1, 2, 3, 4 is just a light, airy tune, something you almost feel like you might here on a summer night, with your legs dangling off of a dock, making small waves in water of some secluded lake, dusk just approaching. The rough simplicity of Intuition gives the song a feeling of intimacy, as though this were just some acoustic demo being played for the first time in your buddy’s basement.

In the end: Fans of Jem (unplugged), Cat Power, or even that darling Jenny Lewis, will definitely enjoy this one. It teeters on the pop/acoustic/alternative edges, but never offends sensibilities; only warms them. Check it out, or, as Han Solo once said “Don’t be a fool!”

On the web: As mentioned, Caitlin has the video for 1, 2, 3, 4 on her blog. I’ll post her KCRW session tomorrow. Also, here are two tracks from her Radio performance a couple days ago: Feist: Live on Radio 1

Technorati tagged: Feist | Stripped Down | Female Vocalist | 2007

What an amazing juxtaposition Amy Winehouse’s music is:

Without the vocals, this music could be pulled straight from the 50s. But then, Winehouse starts singing, with a voice that, too, could be pulled from ths 50s, but blasting lyrics which are cleary modern. My favourite example is the beginning Me and Mr. Jones: “What kind of fuckery is this?”

Quite honestly, I think this is a beautiful album, that, as I mentioned, seems to play these sounds that people know from a “better day” and lyrics which, at points, are harsh, direct, and occasionally obscene.

The album also manages to show some pain, which seems clear based on some googling and the self-destructive path that Winehouse is on. Then again, every good artist has a lot of pain inside.

I’m currently enjoying Me and Mr. Jones (for the aforementioned lyric), Love is A Losing Game (a beautiful but sad song), and Rehab (A seemingly self-mocking tune).

In the end: You know, I won’t lie, if you don’t listen to closely to the lyrics, a lot of song scould definitely be playing in the background during more… intimate times. It’s a great package who’s only fault is that it finishes at 35 minutes.

Technorati tagged: Amy Winehouse | Female Vocalists | Jazz | 2006

Oh women and their pianos, will you ever not be a weakness of mine?

After taking a look at the music section in the Boston Globe, I found a note that Ms. Dienel (a former Boston native) would be playing in town. Well, gee, she looked cute, and that was enough for me to check out her myspace page. Which led me to the opening track of Doctor Monroe. Four notes in, I was sold. I hadn’t even heard her voice but I knew, somehow, it would be good.

And so it continued. Wind-up Canary is 12 tracks spanning just shy of 50 minutes, and contains a lot of the playfulness that a similar songstress uses, that being Nellie McKay.

Unlike your standard woman-at-a-piano music, Dienel’s work isn’t just about longing, pain, and heartbreak, but also some fun narratives and keen observations. Plus, she ends up involving a banjo at one point, and I can’t lie: I’m a sucker for a banjo.

Doctor Monroe, Baby James, Frankie and Annette (and, please, tell me you don’t here the Ballad of Brenda and Eddie hidden in there), and All or Nothing are, perhaps, the most telling tracks of both the albums seriousness and light-heartedness.

In the end: I’ve got room in my heart for another Boston gal, and Casey happened to slide on in. This may not be Grammy award winning music, but it’s fun, it’s enjoyable, and it’s better than the shit that does win Grammys. To me, that says “good record.”

On the web: Behold the power of MySpace. And if that frightens you, there’s always her Official site.

Technorati Tagged: Casey Dienel | Female Vocalists | Piano | 2007

After absorbing the beauty and splendor of Sia’s Colour the Small One, I had every intention of blowing through all of Zero 7 as well as this disc. I won’t lie: I failed miserably.

Thankfully, a co-worker had me put a mix together for her sister, and Fear off of this very album was on it. 8 months later, I finally got through the album. 7 times. And, while I feel Healing ebbs and flows, it is a solid album.

Before trying to make it in the Americas with Colour, Sia followed up her work with Zero 7 with a solo album, this very disc. While this disc would never have made it mainstream, and thus give Sia the attention she deserves, it is a great piece of musical and artistic work.

Somewhere between the heavy samples, some great bass lines, and studio instrumentation, she finds a home to nurture her voice and blow her listeners away. Hidden behind all of that are influences of blues, jazz, hip-hop, 90s R&B, lounge sound, and some good ol’ rock. Sia’s ranged voice allows the collision of these different elements to be both fun and amazing.

Lyrically, Fear is my hands-down favourite on the disc (and comes in second or third musically); Following it is Drink to Get Drunk which wins for title alone, but also for a solid beat and more great lyrics; I’m not Important to You has a 90s/ambient feel to it, and mixed with Sia’s airy vocals on the chorus, make this a must-listen; and Sober and Unkissed is a depressing title, sure, but the jumps between acoustic and electronic in the tune keep you interested.

In the End: This is a great album. Far less mainstream America than Colour the Small Ones, Healing is Difficult really shows Sia’s range and talents and should be immediately digested by anyone who knows this gal’s work.

On the Web: Besides The Hype Machines usual entries, I’ve also go her KCRW sessions for download, via gigasize.

Technorati Tagged: Sia | Zero 7 | 2002