Ryan Tharp
(Magnolia Records)
Ryan Tharp is a badass electric guitarist, a genuine musician and multi-instrumentalist who could make an anvil and a corncob pipe sound great if he set his mind to it. Tharp’s chops were near flawless on Scott Copeland’s live studio album The Fort Worth Sessions (2013). Playing more than a dozen songs in single takes without overdubbing is a true revealer on whether someone knows his instrument.
Need more proof? Tharp’s guitar is all over that Red Shahan joint I just raved and blubbered about. The only reason I knew of Tharp’s contribution is because he mentioned it last week on the phone. Seems liner notes have become passé these days.
Tharp’s prowess is evident once again on his latest self-titled EP of six originals. This CD, too, came without liner notes. I can’t tell you who is playing or producing, but it’s probably Tharp handling the bulk of things. The music is beautifully played and produced. Tharp’s guitar sounds extraordinary. Sure, pedals and hot amps help, but nobody gets a tone like this without the magic human touch. His strong, tight vocals snake around, switching from nuance and whisper to deep-gutted blues to rock rasp as needed.
Tharp’s been involved in most of the projects at Magnolia Records, the local indie label that debuted in 2012 with the Quaker City Night Hawks’ Live at Magnolia Motor Lounge. Tharp co-produced his debut release, Life So Far (2013), with Matthew Smith, who co-owns the label and Magnolia Motor Lounge, the West 7th bar/restaurant where Tharp plays frequently. Everything coming out of Magnolia is sounding highly professional and tight. This EP is no different. Polished for days.
A couple of things keep this short collection from winning me over. My first nitpick is “Helsinki Blues.” Nestled between the soft and beautiful opener “Young” and the rest of the slow to mid-tempo and sometimes breezy tunes, “Helsinki” jumps out of the speakers like a chainsaw, as if someone had inserted Alice in Chains’ “Rooster” into the middle of a Coldplay album. “Helsinki” rocks its toes off but belongs on another album.
Mostly, though, my problem lies with the songs themselves. Tharp’s vocals aren’t always decipherable, and without liner notes it’s difficult to hear everything he’s saying. But most of the lyrics teeter toward the lightweight and lovelorn. Simple phrases are repeated ad infinitum for hooks. What’s missing is an eye for detail. Tharp’s reliance on clichéd phrases smacks of someone too easily satisfied. Some words might rhyme, but don’t further the story or pull the listener into that world. For instance, in “New York Trippin’ ” he’s disillusioned in the big city and missing home. “Snow falls at a much faster pace / My head is spinning while I’m losing every single race / Feet planted firmly on the ground / Thinking and wishing that I’d never got this far down.”
I love chocolate cake. Especially icing. Mmmm, slather that icing on thick! Tharp has delivered lots of great icing (mad skills, great tone, tight and thoughtful production) but has come up short on the cake (lyric and melody). On the bright side, this EP is a great listen if you don’t listen too hard. And the final number “Wait” ends with a long, ear-seducing, David Gilmore-meets-Eric Clapton guitar break that affirms Tharp’s status as one of Cowtown’s baddest guitar slingers. –– J.P.
The Toadies’ Heretics (Kirtland Records)
The concept of The Toadies’ new album comes from the band’s annual appearance at its namesake shindig, Dia De Los Toadies. On the first night of the two-day festival, the four-piece breaks out the acoustic guitars and dials back the angst for a chilled-out set. Heretics follows that same formula, with re-worked songs from previous releases, two new tunes, one unreleased track, and one textured and uncharacteristically tender version of Blondie’s “Heart of Glass.”
To the uninitiated, Heretics may seem a little self-indulgent –– like a band trying to milk diehard fans. Though the album reads like a greatest hits collection, it actually reveals the foursome’s growth into a more dynamic, melodic version of their former selves. Though many of the song titles are familiar (“Possum Kingdom,” “Tyler,” “Backslider”), the sound is something entirely new.
The opening track is one of the new jams, and it is the best of the 12. “In the Belly of a Whale” possesses the characteristic smoldering intensity and catchiness that Toadies fans have come to expect, but it also showcases lead songwriter Vaden Todd Lewis’s ability to subtly build to a crescendo in layers, as opposed to just hitting the fuzz pedal and screaming. It still has the same Pixie-esque sense of groove and dynamism, but the Venn Diagram of the sound might also include Supergrass.
The other new ditty, “Queen of Scars,” features the same kind of lush melodies but this time carried by piano and a reverb-drenched guitar. The song opens with an acoustic guitar riff reminiscent of Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here” and then elegantly transitions into shimmering pop brilliance.
Though the new sound might be brighter, the vocals are sung mostly in a lower register. The new lyrics are less creepy than before, but the vibe is still generally caustic and dark.
The chorus to “Queen of Scars” is the kind of earworm that your mom might sing along to without ever really knowing what she’s saying. “I saw you put together,” Lewis sings. “I watched you fall apart / We did some soul searching / I saw what’s in your heart / And now we’re right back to the start / So welcome back”
Recorded by Rob Schnapf (Beck, Foo Fighters, Elliot Smith) in Los Angeles, Heretics includes guest appearances by Willie Nelson’s harmonica player Mickey Raphael, Will Johnson from Centro-matic, and Toadies labelmate Sarah Jaffe. –– Eric Griffey
Cody Lee
It doesn’t take long to realize that Cody Lee has been making music for quite some time. A 20-plus year veteran of the North Texas scene, drumming for defunct dream poppers Buck Jones and psych-rockers The Cush, Lee has more than earned his local music stripes, and his third full-length solo release is his best work to date.
The self-titled album, his first in seven years (which was coincidentally the gap between his second release and his debut in 2001), shows off Lee’s strengths as a songwriter. Opener “Long Hard Day” plays like a lost track from Wilco’s The Whole Love in both vibe and lack of brevity. Over swashes of strings and horns, Lee sings in his raspy tenor, “I don’t need roads for where I’m going,” setting the tone for the journey to come.
Channeling his inner-Elliott Smith on the country rocker “Movin’ Along,” Lee begins, “Why am I still doing this is anyone’s guess” before reaching the resolve to “just keep moving along.” The piano- and synth-heavy closing number, “Dani’s Song,” is reminiscent of The Beachwood Sparks in their prime.
Recorded over the last few months of 2014 with the help of fellow Fort Worth musician/producer/wearer of many hats Taylor Tatsch and released digitally earlier this year, Lee’s album has just come out on vinyl, and it couldn’t have come at a better time. Seemingly written specifically to be listened to in the fall, harnessing the spirit of coastal California throughout, the album has “open the sunroof and cruise around town” written all over it. — J.L.
