By Jacob Katel
By Laurie Charles
By Nate "Igor" Smith
By Abel Folgar
By Kat Bein
By Jacob Katel
Ever since the Beatles and Dylan began performing their own songs, critics and fans have placed as high a value on songwriting as performing. Indeed, singers who perform material written by others -- Spice Girls, anyone? -- are often considered suspect. Mary Coughlan deserves no such knock. The Irish vocalist, teamed with producer Erik Visser, brings a keen understanding to the diverse material on After the Fall, and the results shine.
"Lucy's Dream" shows that Coughlan is as skilled at mimicking American country as she is at offering up Irish folk. Drummer Robbie Casserly lays down a pitter-pat beat and Brian Connor picks it up with a restrained Hammond organ groove that serves as a perfect counterpoint. Enter Coughlan's vocal, dusty as the Kansas plains and energetic as a rolling freight. Add an intricate little guitar interchange and a Connor Barry solo straight out of Nashville and you've got a song that would make Johnny Cash proud.
"John Fell Off the Work-Around" is a somber ballad in which a wife tells the story of her husband's depression after losing his job and her futile efforts to console him: "The look in his eyes would break your heart/He won't look straight at me/I said to him, John, let's make a plan/There's lots of things we can do/The paintwork's in an awful state/And the fence is rotten through." Visser's brilliant arrangement allows the song to build from a languid opening that casts Coughlan as smoky nightclub chanteuse, then picks up steam until her voice is lost in a whirling organ and ghostly vaudeville piano. It's a deft and ironic touch, as the wild organ ride and frenetic, mocking piano seem to add insult to John's injury.
"Dilemma," based on a Dorothy Parker poem, is the disc's hidden gem. It features a balanced interplay between acoustic guitar and piano, both played in a minor key. Musically tight, simply rendered, it's pure magic and mystery, a tune you could swear you've heard all your life. "Poison Words" plays more like pop. Set to a wistful piano, the tune is pretty enough to make even tough guys weep. That is, until you listen to the lyrics and realize "Poison" is a wife's valentine to her abusive husband. Then it's not so pretty -- it's downright creepy.
To be sure, there are a few missteps. "Woman Undone," for instance, is all overblown pathos, and "Run Away Teddy" -- in which Coughlan tries to sing American tough-girl rock -- is a mistake. But on the whole, Coughlan's dark musings are irresistible. She weaves her somber material into a tantalizing spell and offers it honestly, plainly, with an open hand. This disc is one gracious gesture, one thoughtful gift. Accept it.
Is it strange that a band of black guys from South Central Los Angeles with a Danish harmonica player would remix their songs in Spanish? Not really. "From our earliest days, WAR was deeply influenced by Latin culture," says WAR founder Lonnie Jordan.
Despite interracial friction and flareups over the past few decades, blacks and Latins in L.A. have heavily influenced each other. The Latin "Eastside Sound" of the Sixties was taken directly from black pop, and although the records never broke nationwide, the biracial sound had an impact on the likes of Frank Zappa (his Ruben and the Jets is a masterful parody/ tribute) and the Beatles (Cannibal and the Headhunters from East L.A. toured with them as an opening act). Low riding, long considered the exclusive property of Latins, became one of the primary ingredients in the videos and songs of black gangsta rappers on the West Coast, while the jailhouse clothing styles of chicanos are part of the dress code for young men and women everywhere.
WAR brings all these threads together on this Collecion. The hit "Low Rider" is represented in both a straight-ahead bilingual version and an extended "Mijangos Progressive" dance mix, while "East L.A.," a sweeping anthem of conjured-up hometown pride, is spiced effectively by Jose Feliciano's English and Spanish vocals. The powerful hold of rap on Latin youth is exemplified by the Hispanic MCs on the remake of "Don't Let No One Get You Down." WAR can hang even when the Latin sound in question comes from the Caribbean -- the previously unreleased "Salsa" captures the spirit, if not the letter, of that genre with great feeling.
The feel-good simplicity of this music is deceiving, as Jordan and company manage to mix street toughness with an overflowing friendliness, flute and harmonica solos with gorgeous melodies, and, of course, Spanish with English. Ironically, some of their most Latin-oriented tunes ("The Cisco Kid," "Cinco de Mayo") are presented here in their original English versions. Far from undercutting the album's premise, these lively hybrids reinforce the power of WAR's cross-cultural groove.
I bought Sheryl Crow's first disc, 1994's Tuesday Night Club, because one of my favorite songwriters, David Baerwald, helped her pen and perform some of the tracks. Nice album, I thought. Catchy enough. Whatever. The rest of the culture was substantially more impressed. Crow's sly pop ditties managed to enthrall both the MTV and VH1 generations, and the disc's phenomenal longevity won her opening gigs for the likes of Bob Dylan and the Stones. All of which made expectations surrounding her second record epic bordering on insurmountable.