record reviews

June 12, 2011 at 12:00a.m.

Seasick Steve

Album: “You Can’t Teach an Old Dog New Tricks” (Third Man Records)

Grade: B

It makes sense that Seasick Steve would align himself in a partnership with kindred spirit Jack White’s Third Man Records for the release of his new album, “You Can’t Teach an Old Dog New Tricks.”

Steve Wold, a self-described “song-and-dance man,” is an American expatriate who has broken through in England and Europe but doesn’t have much of a presence in the United States. Yet.

That should change with the Third Man partnership, which has a built-in audience for his deep, gritty form of blues that’s both familiar and all his own. And there’s so much to like: He makes his own instruments, creating a unique tone and sound that helps him rise above sometimes familiar themes. He employs a strong sense of mood that easily moves from world-weary to party-hearty. He carries the kind of backstory that would have the ring of myth-building if most of it weren’t true. Oh, and he’s got former Led Zeppelin bassist John Paul Jones along for the ride.

“Old Dog” is Steve’s fifth album, and it seems mostly concerned with the passage of time.

Steve opens the album with a barely audible worn-down sigh at the start of the melancholy “Treasures.” It’s the kind of sound that might emanate from an older man who’s been burning the years without much to show for it. Over a strummed guitar and lonely banjo line, he sings of how death will strip away everything you’ve built over time.

In the rockin’ title song he muses, “Maybe there’s a few things I need to fix/Can you teach an old dog new tricks.”

He wonders at the miracle of love in “Don’t Know Why She Loves Me But She Do,” promotes the dark wonders of “my happy golden drink” on “Whiskey Ballad” and vows not to waste any more time now that he’s found the love of his life in the simple and moving “Under a Blue and Cloudless Sky.”

This is no album full of ruminative dirges, though. Seasick Steve rocks. Hopefully, fans in his home country will take notice.

—Chris Talbott, Associated Press

ARCTIC MONKEYS

Album: “Suck It and See”

Grade: B

After a massive 2006 debut that broke British sales records, the Arctic Monkeys acted like kings of the music jungle, putting out increasingly indulgent (and less popular) follow-ups.

On “Suck It and See” (Domino), the band reins in its more adventurous impulses, mixing its interests in sludgier rock with some new Morrissey-esque tendencies and the sharp, clever Britpop that made it a sensation in the first place.

“She’s Thunderstorms” introduces this new balance from the start, with singer Alex Turner crooning like Morrissey, circa “You Are the Quarry,” over a jangling guitar line that recalls The Smiths. Of course, that direction doesn’t last long — not even for the whole song, which twists into something spare with hand claps (thunderclaps?) and then twists back again.

On “Black Treacle,” they dig even further back, infusing some T. Rex glam rock from the ’70s with a bit of grandeur and Turner’s wit. “Now, I’m out of place and I’m not getting any wiser,” he sings, drawing out each syllable for maximum drama. “I feel like The Sundance Kid behind a synthesizer.”

Turner’s lyrics are actually the main focus again here, especially in the bad relationship mellow-rocker “The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala.” (”I’ll take the batteries out my mysticism,” he sings, “and put ’em in my thinking cap.”) It’s a small sign the British bad boys have grown, which is a great leap forward for Arctic Monkeys.

—Glenn Gamboa, Newsday

CULTS

Album: “Cults”

Grade: B

Cults, the New York film-school-dropout duo of Madeline Follin and Brian Oblivion, has a deceptively simple approach to indie-pop. It’s all about the melody. And there are some doozies on their debut, “Cults” (Columbia). Sure, there is Phil Spector-ish Wall of Sound production on “Never Heal Myself,” and there are shades of Darlene Love sweetness in Follin’s delivery on the modern-love dilemmas of “Bumper.” But it’s the simple, infectious melodies of “Go Outside” (which includes a sample of a speech from Jonestown cult leader Jim Jones and a xylophone riff) that demand attention and repeated listening.

—Glenn Gamboa, Newsday

OWL CITY

Album: “All Things Bright and Beautiful” (Universal Republic)

Grade: C

The worst thing about Adam Young is that he’s tuneful: The absurd No. 1 hit “Fireflies” was as hooky as it was insipid, a feat. Let the record show that his new “Dreams Don’t Turn to Dust” plagiarizes “Fireflies” more blatantly than “Fireflies” did any Ben Gibbard song. From “Reality’s a lovely place but I wouldn’t want to live there” to “Or else I’d make like a tree and leave,” Young’s idiotic turns of phrase cost his songs more than was the case with any other pop celeb in my lifetime. Sometimes they’re illogical, as in “If love was a game it would never play nice” how can a game play itself?). “Deer in the Headlights,” the best music-as-music here, turns out to be the creepiest love-at-first-sight song I’ve ever heard. “Her pepper spray/Made it rather hard for me to walk her home” reads more like court testimony than hapless-guy comedy. Where- upon “Alligator Sky” makes his rap move.

—Dan Weiss, Philadelphia Inquirer

LEVON HELM

Album: “Ramble at the Ryman” (Vanguard)

Grade: B

Levon Helm gets sole billing on the front cover of this live set recorded at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville in September 2008. But as with the group in which he became famous, the Band, Helm actually is part of a highly accomplished and well-oiled ensemble. The 71-year-old singer, drummer and mandolinist can’t handle front-man duties all the time because his recovery from throat cancer has robbed his Arkansas tenor of much of its robustness. He sings on only about half the tracks here, and you can hear the strain, even if he does bring his usual soul.

Still, Ramble at the Ryman is a rich, freewheeling foray through American roots music, from R&B, jug band and rock ’n’ roll through country, folk and Cajun — including, of course, Band classics such as “Rag Mama Rag,” “The Shape I’m In” and “The Weight.” Helm’s 12-member band, including daughter Amy and multi-instrumental virtuoso Larry Campbell, is augmented by guests including Buddy Miller, Sheryl Crow and John Hiatt, who all make strong vocal contributions to an evening of joyously spirited music.

—Nick Cristiano, Philadelphia Inquirer