...Something Twin, Something Cold

How's about we start off with a DVD review? Ani DiFranco Live at Babeville, to be precise. Babeville is the 135-year-old church that Ani restored to house the Righteous Babe offices and a performance venue. Be sure to watch the bonus footage of the interview to really see the grandeur of the space. It's gorgeous. Supported by her touring band, a red-haired Ani gives us a sparse blend of old, new and new old, in terms of arrangements. Upright bassist Todd Sickafoose has been with her for a few years now. His understated sensitivity gives her dynamism a solid grounding pin to explode from. Drummer Allison Miller brings the finesse and flexibility of her jazz training along with the power of a rocker, making her the perfect groove master for Ani's tunes. Also in the mix is Mike Dillon rocking the vibes. What a fantastically simple instrument to throw into this whole thing to add warmth and just a little something extra, different. The solo he throws down on “Sunday Morning” is reason enough for him to be there. Babeville isn't my favorite of Ani's three DVDs, but it's a fine addition to the catalog.


On the topic of live performances, I saw Brandi Carlile play twice in the past week, once opening for Indigo Girls and the other headlining. I didn't really know her stuff much before that, but she won me over. At the latter show, Priscilla Ahn opened and talk about winning some folks over. She got herself a standing ovation because Ahn delivered at a huge level. Her songs are lovely and whimsical, and her voice adds a whole other dimension. Somewhat reminiscent of Karen Carpenter, odd as that might sound, there's clarity, depth and maturity that is unexpected coming from this little, giggly waif of a girl. Ahn's debut disc, A Good Day, came out two weeks ago. I haven't heard the whole thing, but I'm betting it's pretty great.


I don't know why, but I thought The Watson Twins were sort of traditional folk, cut from the Gillian Welch cloth. I was, um, wrong. Their new release Fire Songs is really good. There are twinges of Americana, to be sure, what with the steel guitars and such; but any group that can take The Cure's “Just Like Heaven” and put it on its head — with a slowed-down, melancholic rendering — is alright by me. There's also something about the harmonies of twins that land right in the pocket of what I want to hear.


A few weeks ago, In Small Doses mentioned that the new Sam Phillips CD, Don't Do Anything, was bad ass. I finally got it, and I'd have to agree. You never know exactly what you're going to get with Sam, other than quirky and cool. This one is edgier in parts than a lot of her past efforts, but it's still quirky and cool. You'd almost think you were listening to Liz Phair. There are trashy, distorted guitars and tinkling, lo-fi pianos and funky, cheap percussion sounds (Thank you, Jay Bellerose!) coming in and out, all together creating a sonic landscape that is two parts circus side show and one part something else. If this CD were a movie, I think David Lynch would have directed it.


I'm willing to forgive Chris Martin for naming his daughter Apple and for ripping off Michael Stipe's dance moves if Coldplay can really deliver with Viva la Vida. And, they do. Every song is right there where it should be, with ebbs and flows, pulling you along for the journey. As a collection, it's thoroughly accessible and terrifically consistent, and not at all mediocre. I've liked their past releases pretty well, but I was actually a little excited about this one. Maybe it was the Stipe impersonation in that trippy iTunes commercial that seems to play non-stop. All is forgiven, but seriously, Apple?


I've known about Jessie Baylin for a couple of years now. She's part of that über-hip Hotel Cafe scene. If I say her just-released Firesight is both light and breezy AND substantial, will I get my point across, or will I just be contradicting myself? It's filled with nice, mid-tempo numbers, and something in there reminds me of that old Southern California singer/songwriter sound of the early-mid-70s... like a female Jackson Browne maybe. I could be totally wrong (or colored by the fact that I live in SoCal), but it's a good record, nonetheless.