Live review: Thom Yorke at the Orpheum Theatre*

With Flea driving the groove, Radiohead's frontman funks it up.

 

To understand what Thom Yorke is up to with the new ensemble he brought to the Orpheum Theatre on Sunday, it's useful to quote one of pop's surviving godfathers. "Once you've done the best you can, funk it!" said George Clinton, the founder of Parliament Funkadelic and guiding light for countless musicians trying to find their footing on the dance floor.

To "funk it" doesn't merely mean to relax; it requires concentration and the kind of muscle that never tenses up. For Yorke, the frontman for the highly cerebral and very popular band Radiohead, it also means rejiggering the multidirectional music that group has perfected, to better emphasize its cornerstone: the groove.

Radiohead isn't often discussed as a dance band, though its sound relies as much on rhythm as on Yorke's woozy melodies and Jonny Greenwood's thickets of effects. But by joining forces with alternative rock's favorite bassist (and Clinton's friend) Flea, as well as drummer Joey Waronker and Brazilian percussionist Mauro Refosco, Yorke is aggressively reaching for the bottom in his own sound.

Live review: Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum benefit at Club Nokia

Emmylou Harris, Dwight Yoakam and other singer-songwriters nimbly display music's varied forms in a casual fundraiser for the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum.

Great as he was, the late singer-songwriter Townes Van Zandt was wrong when he said that there are only two kinds of music, "the blues and zip-a-dee-doo-dah." Emmylou Harris quoted that line Thursday at Club Nokia, and the singer-songwriters gathered around her nodded agreement. Yet their own songs and others they offered during this show to benefit Nashville's worthy Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum demonstrated the limits of Van Zandt's assessment.

Any visitor to the museum  realizes that music also can take the form of a joke, a nursery rhyme, a prayer, a come-on or a campfire tale. In an evening that began as a history lesson (including a brief talk by the museum's director, Kyle Young) and expanded to include a few song debuts, a duet or two and plenty of barbs about Dwight Yoakam's tight jeans, Harris, Yoakam, Melissa Etheridge and Vince Gill touched upon all those forms, showing the flexibility of "country" as they did so.

They started, fittingly, with something by Gram Parsons, a Southern-born artist whose California-based career typified how country has progressed by applying its torch and twang to many styles and sources. Gill sang "Sin City," a traditional lament infused with the energy of 1960s rock. Harris, Parson's artistic foil during his short life, sang her famous harmonies.

Live review: Pearl Jam at Gibson Amphitheatre

The band rode wave after wave of its music, surfing steadily through its songs' curls and switch ups. The sound was excellent and the size of the venue let fans and band connect.

Four songs into Pearl Jam's Wednesdaynight performance at the Gibson Amphitheatre, Eddie Vedder shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as if to maintain his balance atop something moving fast. Lead guitarist Mike McCready leaned back hard; Stone Gossard, on rhythm, hunched forward. Bassist Jeff Ament kept his head down as if holding on to an invisible mooring line. Matt Cameron cast himself as the storm's eye -- back straight, face calm as he beat out a spray of drum notes.

After nearly two decades and hundreds of shows, the most resilient group in alternative rock has become something simple at its core: a surf band.

It's not so much that Vedder can't resist aquatic metaphors, though the lifelong beach bum acknowledged that predilection Wednesday, quipping, "There are a lot of ocean references [tonight] because we're close to the shore, and it's healing." Nor is Pearl Jam's sound anything like the treble-heavy instrumentals of Dick Dale or the Surfaris.

Pearl Jam makes surf music in the philosophical sense. Its sets build in arcs. Some songs peak quickly and crash, while others take shape gradually. To negotiate their tricky changes, each player employs serious muscle control. If he stops to pose, he'll topple.

Album review: The Avett Brothers' 'I and Love and You'

For the Avett Brothers, bluegrass is hard-core, and country is emo. This North Carolina band plows a familiar field by blending folk idioms with punk, playing against the surface incongruities of the two forms while unearthing the deeper connections. Punk and folk are both heartfelt and showily handmade, and share a central yearning for that tricky grounding element -- authenticity. With soaring harmonies, Southern twang and lyrics that evoke both Walt Whitman and Will Oldham, the Avetts fit right in to this particular syncretic tradition.

What's distinctive about the Avetts -- singing, multi-instrumentalist siblings Seth and Scott and artistically adopted stand-up bassist Bob Crawford, plus a step-member, cellist Joe Kwon -- is a dedication to exploring a specific dynamic: the intense expression of soft emotions. This focus is refined and made beautifully accessible on the band's Rick Rubin-shepherded major label debut, which follows a busy near-decade of independent releases and constant touring.

"I and Love and You" is so earnest that more skeptical listeners might laugh out loud at its wider-eyed pronouncements. These are not college sophomores, and yet they make their girlfriends look at the stars, fret about whether they're making art and intone about how tough it is to say those three words in the title track.

What makes this cultivated innocence bearable, besides the band's sprightly playing and ravishing sense of melody, is the diligence with which the Avett brothers, who write the material, and their bandmates explore the subject of sentimentality. Each cliché is honed and nurtured, making these songs both the expression of feelings that startle and a meditation on how and why feelings can be so disordering.

Rubin, who's known for helping artists get down to the bare essentials, reins in the raucousness that often led to sloppiness on previous releases and encourages the Avetts to experiment, but carefully. The New Wave-y "Kick Drum Heart" and the almost Springsteen-esque "Slight Figure of Speech" vary the flavors here; so does "January Wedding," a straight-up bluegrass tune that Pete Seeger might have sung 50 years ago.

Seeger, of course, has been both a preserver of tradition and a rabble-rouser. Too much reverence turns folk music dull, but the genre always presents new ways to affect its own renewal. The Avett Brothers have hit upon a winning approach, and this album is another step in their taking it beyond the obvious.

-- Ann Powers

The Avett Brothers
"I and Love and You"
(American Recordings)
Three stars (Out of four)

Album review: Mariah Carey's 'Memoirs of an Imperfect Angel'*

She shows off her talent by coming off as just another girl at the nail salon.

On her recently leaked and soon-to-be-released 12th studio album, Mariah Carey and her latest producers, Terius "The-Dream" Nash and Tricky Stewart, attempt to get at something by distilling it. They're seeking the Essence of Mimi, the liquor in the oyster of Carey's famously luscious voice.But instead of showcasing this musical Olympian's dazzling way with a vocal run or her nearly unmatchable whistle register -- obvious choices when it comes to Carey's talent -- she and her team tune into a particular tone, the one that earned her another nickname, Honey.

There's a breathiness to this album that's not only sexy but emotionally intimate. Heavy on slow jams, quiet confessions and kiss-offs closer to the work of the rappers she admires than to Carey's soul sisters, "Memoirs of an Imperfect Angel" capitalizes on an underrated aspect of the singer's talent: Her ability, even when she's scaling vocal heights, to still come off as just another girl at the nail salon.

Carey's lyrics -- she co-writes everything here, except for her fairly unremarkable cover of Foreigner's "I Want to Know What Love Is" -- make this point most obviously. Even when fully dressed in the armor of her glamour, as when she advises an ex (Eminem? More likely it's Latin pop star Luis Miguel) to "pretend you on a sofa, and I'm on MTV" when he spies her walking by.

Carey still compulsively shares details about her runny mascara and her appetite for Duncan Hines yellow cake. "Bubble baths on the jet" might be a ridiculous fantasy, but it's not at all elitist. Any real housewife or career girl has been in that daydream.

Fab Four faceoff: What's your favorite song from 'Let It Be'?

With the official release of the remastered Beatles catalog now done and dusted, Pop & Hiss persists in asking the musical question: What would go on your Beatles mix tape?

As my final weigh-in about what's tops on each of these remastered treats, this entry considers "Let It Be," which you'll find at the bottom of your box if you purchase the stereo set.

Sob, smile or snicker when I nominate.....

Album review: Noisettes' 'Wild Young Hearts'

The Noisettes sometimes sound like a 1960s girl group (maybe the Cookies) but different; or like a 1980s New Wave band (hello, Blondie) but different; or like a turn-of-the-'90s electro-pop outfit (oh, Snap!) but different. This young London band has no shame about mining, mixing and matching influences. But the wit and panache of its star, the singer and bassist Shingai Shoniwa, lifts the trio out of its costume trunk.

The first Noisettes album, 2007's "What's the Time Mr. Wolf?" was a rougher, more rockish affair. The group's latest, "Wild Young Hearts," is far more aspirational, with focused, hooky songs and a clean sound reflecting the involvement of producer Jim Abbiss, who helped crack open the careers of the Arctic Monkeys and Adele.

Shoniwa, guitarist Dan Smith and drummer Jamie Morrison prove adept at both dance-floor workouts and jazz-infused cocktail pop, and the singer-songwriterly "Atticus" chases sidewalks quite successfully.

But Shoniwa is too strong-willed to be completely contained within these stylish little sonic ensembles. The sharp edge in her voice -- evocative of Etta James, Cyndi Lauper and contemporaries like Chrisette Michele -- complements lyrics that tread the same ground as chick lit but with a sharper and more feminist step.

"24 Hours" laments the loss of a one-night stand, but Shoniwa is the one who walked. "Beat of My Heart" dares a wallflower boy out of his bower. "Never Forget You" sweetly recalls a conversation between best girlfriends, now grown. "Cheap Kicks" details the ugliness of a breakup with remarkable lucidity.

We've heard these stories before, from other ingenues pushing against containment. Shoniwa puts her own spin on the stance without pomp or arrogance. Ably assisted by her pop history-schooled bandmates, she's made the kind of record that could change the life of someone who just picked it up for fun.

It's not a masterpiece, not a groundbreaker, but it's going to be somebody's favorite.

-- Ann Powers

Noisettes
"Wild Young Hearts"
Mercury
Three stars (out of four)

Fab Four Face-Off: What's your favorite song from 'Abbey Road'?

With the official release of the remastered Beatles catalog now nearly ancient history, Pop & Hiss persists in asking the musical question: What would go on your Beatles mix tape?

Continuing my couchbound meditations about what's best on each of these remastered treats, this entry considers "Abbey Road," the last album the Beatles recorded but, because "Let It Be" was delayed, the second-last to be released.

Agree or declare yourself barefoot and out of step with me when I select....

Fab Four Face-Off: What's your favorite song from 'Yellow Submarine'?

With the official release of the remastered Beatles catalog now long accomplished (in 24-hour news cycle terms), Pop & Hiss persists in asking the musical question: What would go on your Beatles mix tape?

Continuing my impish assertions of what's best on each of the thoroughly lovely remasters, this entry considers the soundtrack to the film "Yellow Submarine," the 11th album in the series.

Hug me or call me a Blue Meanie for selecting ...

Pearl Jam's 'Backspacer': Four stars [UPDATED]

A thousand rock 'n' roll clichés have been built around the idea that guts and glory belong to the young. Pearl Jam's ninth studio album, "Backspacer," due out Sunday (Sept. 20), makes the opposite argument. Its 11 breakneck rockers and candidly emotional ballads, adding up to barely more than a half hour of optimally toned catharsis, gain power from the band's calm but constant awareness of life's ticking clock.

"I gotta say it now, better loud than too late," Eddie Vedder wails in "Amongst the Waves" -- the closest thing to an oceanic jam on "Backspacer," and at 3 1/2 minutes it's pretty much a shore dump. More than half of the songs here feature fast beats and screaming guitars instead of the more contemplative ensemble journeys for which Pearl Jam is famous.

But speed isn't the main point. Cellphone lifters such as "Just Breathe," Vedder's lovely celebration of life with the wife, don't wander either; he still has a philosophical bent, this time the lyricist (writing all the words for the first in many years) mostly keeps things personal, considering the pleasures and tests of family life, love and his own mortal body.

The music remains complex, even when it seems like a beer party. Promoting the album, Vedder has been comparing the rhythm section of Jeff Ament and Matt Cameron to Motown's fabled players, and he's almost right. They're more like a classic rock team (Entwistle-Moon, early Wyman-Watts), as sharp as the soul players but more hopped up and argumentative.