Barnes & Barnes

Voobaha

Collector’s Choice

originally published April 11, 2007

Voobaha, from Fischer’s comrades and Dr. Demento hall-of-famers Barnes & Barnes, is a less off-putting but equally unusual slice of kook. Boasting the novelty classic “Fish Heads,” which landed the two parodists on "Saturday Night Live" and Demento’s radio show, the album is chockfull of gross-outs, punctured sacred cows and other assorted funny business. Song titles like “I Hope She Dies” and “I Gotta Get a Fake I.D.” show the Barnes boys might’ve had a lingering preoccupation with misspent youth, but their wackiness and studio smarts make for good fun, nonetheless. Voobaha occasionally grates the nerves, though the additional dozen bonus tracks (including the newly recorded “Granny and the Kid”) add much to its worth. This is Weird Al Yankovic’s training ground and, even 20 years down the line, Voobaha is still on tap for a few cheap yucks.

Michael Andrews

Wild Man Fischer

Nothing Scary

Collector’s Choice

originally published April 11, 2007

“Welcome to an album you’ll never forget,” cackles Larry “Wild Man” Fischer during the introduction of 1984’s Nothing Scary. Fischer’s vividly scrambled imagination may’ve inspired some tall tales and half-truths along the way, but his album disclaimer is spot on. Fischer, the L.A. eccentric who was once befriended and produced by Frank Zappa, was in musical limbo when Nothing Scary was recorded. Inspired and prodded by Art and Artie Barnes (actually Lost In Space alum Bill “Will Robinson” Mumy and partner Robert Haimer), he agreed to record another album of nutty speak-songs, deranged love ballads and unsettling teleplays in which Fischer played all the characters himself. As the liner notes tell us, most of Fischer’s vocals for Nothing Scary were recorded outside and later combined with the dueting Barnes’ surprisingly well-matched backing tracks.

At 34 tracks in less than an hour, Nothing Scary actually reveals itself as a rewarding listen. Fischer doesn’t so much “sing,” as he does yelp, howl and scream through two-minute sing-alongs like “Merry Go Round.” On “Oh, God, Please Send Me a Kid,” he prays for eventual reproduction pleading, “Send me a kid, I can buy it a donut every day!” Little ditties like “Sparkling Diamonds” and “Give Me a Ride Down the Hill” are actually quite melodic field holler-style numbers influenced by both nursery rhymes and doo-wop. Part Beefheart, part Andy Kaufman and all kinds of weird, Nothing Scary is more than a little disturbing, despite the title’s promise.

Michael Andrews

Okkervil River

Black Sheep Boy: Deluxe Edition

Jagjaguar

originally published April 11, 2007

Named after and featuring a brief rendition of late folky jazzman Tim Hardin’s delicate title song, Okkervil River’s 2005 release Black Sheep Boy has already become an essential entry in the Austinites’ catalog. Black Sheep Boy: Deluxe Edition pairs the original 11-track album along with the EP that coincided with its initial release.

Jittery, nerve-wracked and wide awake, the band presents an emotionally ragged guitar rollercoaster complete with Wurlitzer, steel guitar and vibraphone licks. Propelled by Will Shef’s often anguished vocals, the album gravitates between the escalating meditative whispers of tracks like “So Come Back I Am Waiting” and the scar-baring tendencies shown by “Black” and “A King And A Queen.”

The additional Black Sheep Boy: Appendix disc presents eight more songs that weren’t on the original album, including a rework of the title track. Like the Old '97s, this little band from Texas with the Germanic-sounding name has a reputation for presenting songs both lyrically tender and sonically fierce, an effective and therapeutic combo Black Sheep Boy rides throughout.

Michael Andrews

Various Artists

Eccentric Soul: Twinight’s Lunar Rotation

The Numero Group

originally published April 11, 2007

The crate-pilfering Eccentric Soul series rolls on with its strongest compilation yet - a two-disc examination of Chicago’s late, great Twinight label. The label’s chief hitmaker was funky-fresh Syl Johnson, who doesn’t appear at all. True, the set is meant to shed light on the label’s lesser-knowns, but at least one Johnson cut would’ve been a smart inclusion.

Still, there’s much flavorful nostalgia to absorb here. The Eccentric Soul series prides itself on preserving the never-weres and never-could've-beens of the fly-by-night soul label kingdom, but the Twinight set actually has both quality and quantity on its side. Among the chronologically arranged stack of dusty grooves are names like Renaldo Domino, Nate Evans and a mysterious crooner simply known as Stormy. Just listen to the opening organ licks of Harrison & the Majestic Kind’s “Tearing Me Up Inside” and try not to imagine the R&B-obsessed members of J. Geils Band lifting it for their own “Centerfold.” This one’s a must for soul collectors, turntable samurais and anyone needing an immediate adjustment to their misaligned groove thang.

Michael Andrews

The Alan Parsons Project

I Robot

Arista/ Legacy

originally published April 11, 2007

The Alan Parsons Project was not, as Homer Simpson once surmised, some sort of hovercraft. Parsons, also engineer of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon, did, however, interject a heroic dose of sci-fi futurism into his loose concept albums like Eye In the Sky and 1977’s I Robot.

Based in part on the Isaac Asimov work of the same name, Parsons and keyboardist Eric Woolfson didn’t create I Robot’s futuristic landscape out of metallic beats and found sounds. Instead, a surly mix of organs and synths, hushed vocals and subdued jazzy textures surrounds the album. So, thanks to technological advancements made since, the future of 1977 sounds like it's stuck warming up the house for Steely Dan.

The composition of “I Wouldn’t Want to Be Like You” and the grandiose “Some Other Time” are reminiscent of Parson’s Floyd acquaintances, while “Don’t Let It Show” shows off the Project’s knack for downcast English balladry. Five bonus tracks, including the 10-minute instrumental excursion “The Naked Robot,” round out this reissue. Parsons and company would go on to sharpen their studious, paranoid pen with 1982's Eye In the Sky, also part of the current APP reissue campaign. However, I Robot remains an equally heady look back at late-'70s futurism, with or without hovercraft access.

Michael Andrews