A professor of mine once suggested that a good short paper was always better than a good long one. The same, I think, can be said of CDs (even though I consider the 76-minute "Blueberry Boat" to be one of the best releases of 2004). The original release of The Lemonheads' CD "It's A Shame About Ray" was under 30 minutes long, and was later padded by the cover of Mrs Robinson. When a short record is done right, it leaves no space for throwaways or wasted moments. Having said that, "It's A Shame About Ray" is, in short, done right.
Released 10 months after "Nevermind," "Ray" is kinder, gentler release of the grunge era ("bubblegrunge" was the term applied to it). Singer/songwriter Evan Dando does a fine job of mixing all of his influences into the record: jangle pop, country rock, power pop, and punk. He sings in an understated and unpretentious manner that succeeds all the same in bringing his clever lyrics into full relief. The jangley acoustic strumming and crisp arpeggios that come to the fore give the CD a very autumnal feel, one that makes the setting seem more like a wealthy, wooded bedroom community than suburbia.
The first half of the CD alternates among slow (My Drug Buddy), mid (Confetti), and up tempo (The Turnpike Down) numbers, and then climaxes to perfection with the drum-propelled tracks Bit Part and the magnificent Alison's Starting to Happen. Simply put, these songs are two of the best pieces of evidence to suggest that the three-minute pop song is one minute too long. (The latter contains what is probably the best lyric on the entire record: "She's the puzzle piece behind the couch that made the sky complete.") But it is hardly all downhill from there. The plaintive Hannah and Gabi, the playful Kitchen, the somewhat fiercer Ceiling Fan in My Spoon, and a grin-inducing version of Frank Mills are all terrific as well.
In the end, "Ray" is a pleasantly unassuming record, one that does little to explicitly draw in or put off the listener. It doesn't take any high-stake risks, but it doesn't aim at the lowest common denominator, either. Evan Dando presents his songs with the aplomb of a highly confident street performer: he is perfectly happy to have people stop and listen, but equally happy to keep playing as people pass by obliviously. His voice is warm and inviting, and his lyrics often express uncertainty ("if I make it through today"), sometimes despondency ("hope in my past"), but he does manage to muster a bit of optimism on Rockin' Stroll ("moving forward all the time", "I'm gonna try"). And it would be really unfair to not give Juliana Hatfield a mention, as her candy-coated voice is a lovely touch on songs like Rudderless.
"Infectious" is not quite the right word to describe "It's A Shame About Ray", but it is very listener-friendly and effectively sequenced. Hence, it is easy to listen to repeatedly without seeming predictable or repetitive. Good thing, too, as the listener is very likely to keep coming back for more of "Ray's" bite-size pleasures. It may not be an era-defining record like "Nevermind" or "Ten," but it does provide a nice snapshot into a different aspect of the early 90s scene, one which should be equally interesting to those of you who weren't there as it is to those of us who were.
Released 10 months after "Nevermind," "Ray" is kinder, gentler release of the grunge era ("bubblegrunge" was the term applied to it). Singer/songwriter Evan Dando does a fine job of mixing all of his influences into the record: jangle pop, country rock, power pop, and punk. He sings in an understated and unpretentious manner that succeeds all the same in bringing his clever lyrics into full relief. The jangley acoustic strumming and crisp arpeggios that come to the fore give the CD a very autumnal feel, one that makes the setting seem more like a wealthy, wooded bedroom community than suburbia.
The first half of the CD alternates among slow (My Drug Buddy), mid (Confetti), and up tempo (The Turnpike Down) numbers, and then climaxes to perfection with the drum-propelled tracks Bit Part and the magnificent Alison's Starting to Happen. Simply put, these songs are two of the best pieces of evidence to suggest that the three-minute pop song is one minute too long. (The latter contains what is probably the best lyric on the entire record: "She's the puzzle piece behind the couch that made the sky complete.") But it is hardly all downhill from there. The plaintive Hannah and Gabi, the playful Kitchen, the somewhat fiercer Ceiling Fan in My Spoon, and a grin-inducing version of Frank Mills are all terrific as well.
In the end, "Ray" is a pleasantly unassuming record, one that does little to explicitly draw in or put off the listener. It doesn't take any high-stake risks, but it doesn't aim at the lowest common denominator, either. Evan Dando presents his songs with the aplomb of a highly confident street performer: he is perfectly happy to have people stop and listen, but equally happy to keep playing as people pass by obliviously. His voice is warm and inviting, and his lyrics often express uncertainty ("if I make it through today"), sometimes despondency ("hope in my past"), but he does manage to muster a bit of optimism on Rockin' Stroll ("moving forward all the time", "I'm gonna try"). And it would be really unfair to not give Juliana Hatfield a mention, as her candy-coated voice is a lovely touch on songs like Rudderless.
"Infectious" is not quite the right word to describe "It's A Shame About Ray", but it is very listener-friendly and effectively sequenced. Hence, it is easy to listen to repeatedly without seeming predictable or repetitive. Good thing, too, as the listener is very likely to keep coming back for more of "Ray's" bite-size pleasures. It may not be an era-defining record like "Nevermind" or "Ten," but it does provide a nice snapshot into a different aspect of the early 90s scene, one which should be equally interesting to those of you who weren't there as it is to those of us who were.
