Harvey’s ‘Uh Huh’ amazing piece of art
PJ Harvey
“Uh Huh Her” (Island) ••••
Notoriously reclusive singer-songwriter PJ Harvey has repeatedly warned us against looking at her songs as autobiographical. But she writes and sings with such convincing character and detail that it’s hard to separate the writer from the emotional sieges she describes.
In “Shame,” one of the key songs on Harvey’s first album in four years, she tells the story of a woman so immobilized by failed relationships that she doesn’t even know where to put the blame for what seems certain to go wrong in the latest one.
It’s a near-perfect piece of art, a level of accomplishment Harvey achieves with amazing consistency. How strange, then, that this brilliant artist remains something of a cult item in the United States – even though she was part of a trio of women, along with Liz Phair and Courtney Love, who were pretty much setting the creative agenda in rock a decade ago.
Phair has wandered onto less compelling pop turf, while Love’s career seems hijacked by personal problems. But Harvey lives up to expectations in “Uh Huh Her,” not only writing and producing the album in her home studio in England but also playing virtually all the instruments, including guitar, bass, autoharp, violin and keyboards.
— Robert Hilburn, Los Angeles Times
Bad Religion
“The Empire Strikes First” (Epitaph) •••
With a Republican president in office and a war on, you’d expect Bad Religion to turn up primed for a fight.
The veteran punk band’s 13th album doesn’t disappoint, unleashing the kind of unbridled fury that used to define punk before it was co-opted for sneaker commercials and lust-struck teens with the hots for their neighbor’s mom.
It lambastes political imperialism (the blistering title track, “Let Them Eat War”), religious hypocrisy (“Sinister Rouge,” “Atheist Peace,” “God’s Love”) and societal bankruptcy (“Los Angeles Is Burning,” “Social Suicide”).
Even if some tracks unfold more like political manifestos than songs, Bad Religion has succeeded in expressing its outrage more eloquently while sustaining its musical muscle over the years.
— Randy Lewis, Los Angeles Times
The X-ecutioners
“Revolutions” (Columbia) •••
Much of modern hip-hop music ignores the DJ, focusing instead on the rapper. On their second album, the New York-based X-ecutioners make another strong case for the relevance of the DJ, who after all was the true originator of hip-hop culture.
Recognizing that their sonic assault of cutting and scratching would be best showcased by adding some rhymes, Rob Swift, Grandmaster Roc Raida and DJ Total Eclipse enlist some of rap’s heavy hitters to accent their otherworldly turntable skills. Ghostface and the Roots’ Black Thought deliver impressive lyrical gymnastics on the energetic “Live From the PJ’s,” while promising up-and-comer Saigon unloads a string of clever, battle-minded punch lines (“How you call yourself a DJ and can’t scratch/ That’s like a … wide receiver that can’t catch”) on the bare-bones “Back to Back.”
Unfortunately, a number of superfluous skits interrupt some of the momentum that the X-ecutioners create with their turntable wizardry.
— Soren Baker, Los Angeles Times
Julie Roberts
“Julie Roberts” (Mercury) •••
Here’s fresh proof that you can’t always judge a CD by its cover. Yes, country newcomer Julie Roberts looks an awful lot like Faith Hill, and yes, there are a couple of unfortunate spots on her debut album that fall victim to formulaic Nashville songwriting and production. But this project, in its better moments, suggests that the savvy Roberts has her gaze set firmly on country’s post-Faith, post-Shania Twain future.
The first single, “Break Down Here,” is a sultry, heartbroken lament that has a lot more in common with the swampy blues of Allison Moorer than the sticky pop of Hill and Twain, while the homespun “Unlove Me,” co-written by revered traditionalist Paul Overstreet and featuring backup vocals by Vince Gill, proves that Roberts is plenty serious about singing authentic, unvarnished country music.
The intriguing “Wake Up Older” finds a rejected Roberts venturing into the good-girl-gone-bad territory Faith and Shania avoid. When is the last time you can recall a female country artist singing lines like: “So I found me a stranger/Well, there’s comfort in danger/But I thought about you the whole time we were gettin’ it on”?
— Greg Crawford, Detroit Free Press
Wilson Phillips
“California” (Columbia) •
Who better than Wilson Phillips – the ‘80s hit-makers whose parentage includes Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys and John and Michelle Phillips of the Mamas and the Papas – to celebrate the rich trove of music made in or inspired by the state of California?
Just about anyone.
Oh sure, the power trio of Carnie and Wendy Wilson and Chynna Phillips can still harmonize decently. But they’re not equipped to shed new light on songs most pop fans know by heart – Neil Young’s “Old Man” (who sounds more beaten-down than ever here), the Eagles’ “Already Gone,” the Byrds’ “Turn, Turn, Turn,” Jackson Browne’s “Doctor My Eyes” and, most tragically, the Beach Boys’ “In My Room,” which features the writer, Brian Wilson, on piano and vocals.
At times this lavish set is nothing more than California karaoke, and at other times it’s a platform for the kind of zipless, desperate-to-please phrasing practiced by children’s choirs. Shame on everyone at Columbia Records who said yes to it.
— Tom Moon, Philadelphia Inquirer