SOUND THE ALARM BY BOOKER T. JONES

Sound The Alarm by Booker T. Jones

Sound The Alarm is Booker T. Jones's third outing in four years.  Since he took a 20 year break before recording 2009's Potato Hole, it would at least appear that the famous Organist is experiencing a career rebirth.  And that's a welcome thing because, let's face it, Booker T. is a total treasure.

But, in the early 60s, who would have thought that perhaps the most talented dude in the Stax Records house band would be making music like this today?

If you haven't been informed, there's a blueprint to Booker T.'s work from the last few years, which relies on covers of recent hits like OutKast's "Hey Ya" and Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy" and collaborations with relevant, medium-sized, main sequence stars like Matt Berninger of The National and Sharon Jones.  It's totally a gimmick, but sometimes the results were beautiful, as on the revitalizing single "Representing Memphis" from 2011's  The Road To Memphis—without a doubt one of my favorite songs from that year. Period. 

Sound The Alarm doesn't have a song as good as that—or anything nearly close to it.  You can't really fault him for that.  But the album really suffers, because, believe it or not, Booker T. Jones's organ feels absolutely superfluous and awkward on 80% of the album.  It's fine when he's just another musician on "Broken Heart"—a particularly passionate collaboration with Jay James from Bullet For My Valentine—but that song simply doesn't call for the extended organ solo he takes in the middle.  And neither do any of these songs actually. "Can't Wait," a dance number with vocalist Estelle, is such a puzzlingly bizzare endeavor, it is almost embarassing.  The only moments where Jones seems to feel at home is when he's playin' the blues as he does on  "Father Son Blues" and "Austin City Blues."  Sadly, very dull stuff.  

There are plenty of tracks on  Sound The Alarm, where Jones feels so absent, you actually forget that it's  his album.  That may actually be a good thing!

Sound The Alarm by Booker T. Jones

SINGLES GOING STEADY: "THE BLUES DON'T KNOCK" BY DON COVAY & THE JEFFERSON LEMON BLUES BAND

"The Blues Don't Knock" appears on this fantastic 1969 LP by Don Covay & The Jefferson Lemon Blues Band

It takes a little "something" to get me to fall in love with a blues song.  That something is a combination of two things:  a significant addition of sophistication and a significant subtraction of predictability.  For whatever reason, the blues form is a seductive crutch that too many musicians lean on—and have the audacity to call themselves "songwriters."  Some make slight adjustments to the form to keep it melodically interesting, but there is a "sameness" to the blues that I can't help but feel bored by.  Sure, I'll listen to Muddy Waters At Newport, Albert King, The Blues Project (feat. Al Kooper) and a bit of The Paul Butterfield Blues Band, but that's pretty much the extent of my "blues desert island list."  

But, my recent discovery, "The Blues Don't Knock" by Don Covay & The Jefferson Lemon Blues Band, is an example of a blues song that has a little "something."  Written by Sidney Wyche, whose songs have been covered by everybody from Aretha Franklin and Elvis Presley, it's greatness should be of no surprise.  This is a real songwriter's song, as evidenced by some unexpected melodic turns in the verses and the bridge.  By far the most "goosebump-y" moment of "The Blues Don't Knock" is in the final 45 seconds.  Covay sings the blues melody an octave up and his slightly strained delivery is incredibly emotive and effective.  

Listen to this song.  I also suggest listening to the corresponding album House Of Blue Light, which is fantastic, to say the least.  Guitar enthusiasts take note—the J. Lemon Blues Band features the expert John Hammond.

"The Blues Don't Knock" by Don Covay & the Jefferson Lemon Blues Band

House Of Blue Light  by Don Covay & the Jefferson Lemon Blues Band

LESSER EVIL BY DOLDRUMS

Lesser Evil by Doldrums

Before you listen to Lesser Evil by Doldrums, I highly recommend you take a minute to sit and stare at its corresponding album artwork.  Doing so will tell you quite a bit about what cocktail you're about to swallow.

Under the abstract wash of inky, blue, food coloring-like stains and violet flourishes is a human face.  Let's say the face is equivalent to the concept of familiar and agreeable musicality.  Everything else is a bizarre, sour candy coated, electronic fabric.  Too much of electronic indie rock only gives you the "everything else."  But, sometimes you get the familiar and the agreeable musicality and the everything else together in one double shot.  This combination is quite addictive when it's done really well.  

Releaesed in February 2013, Lesser Evil is done really well.  Almost outstanding! 

If you're going to chill out, you might as well put on some good music and Lesser Evil will more than suffice.  On tracks like "Lesser Evil" and "Lost In Everyone," Doldrums make some of the finest Indie Rock I've heard all year.

Lesser Evil by Doldrums