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Updated: October 11, 2009, 8:08 AM
With her sixth independent release, Alison Pipitone combines all the elements that have made her previous studio recordings connect, adds the roughshod jubilance of her band’s live shows, and comes up with a roots-rock firestarter.
Fronting the finest version of the Alison Pipitone Band to date, Pipitone sounds positively unfettered here, as if she has grown into her art and can now wear it like a favorite, weathered and cracked black leather jacket.
On the surface, in the immediate sense, “Me and Miss Grimes” sounds like an upbeat Lucinda Williams fronting the Rolling Stones, circa 1973.
The guitars gnaw on the edges of the audio spectrum, bumping and grinding around Pipitone’s whiskey-throated intonations; the rhythm section establishes the deepest of pockets at the outset of each tune, then sways its hips in that immaculate space with a sly grin pasted on its face; the album’s production, handled deftly by Will Kennedy, is of the “less is more” variety, and therefore, everything stays out of everything else’s way. The result is a record that sounds great blasted at a level suggesting a lack of consideration for anyone in the immediate vicinity, but also, one that bears up to closer, less manic observation.
Pipitone has lassoed some of Western New York’s finest pickers, singers and skin-pounders here, and they elevate the proceedings at every turn. Drummer Pat Shaughnessy, late of
Doombuggy; bassist Jim Whitford – who has played with everyone in town worth playing with, twice, and has ventured forth to parry with the likes of Gurf Morlix and Peter Case, too; guitarist Graham Howes; and backing vocalist Natalie Howes combine to form a more raucous, rougher-edged version of Sheryl Crow’s Tuesday Night Music Club. Unfailingly, they serve the song.
And, as ever with Pipitone, the song’s the thing.
Pipitone’s lyrics, she says, “start with a single image, or some imagery, something that comes fast, and then I follow the thread, and the song ends up being about something that has happened in my own life.” These songs bear that premise out, as each commences with a particular, specific image that proceeds to act as a window into a broader world.
So album-opener “Hello Is Not the Word” starts with a sketch – “She moves in silence/Simple lines and plain” evokes Dylan and ancient Irish folk, a la “She Moved Through the Fair” – and then turns into a bawdy declaration of love and lust, to the tune of thick, rich, Stonesy guitars.
“High Stakes Table” – with a melody that may be the most lovely and lilting one Pipitone has yet conjured – begins with an abstract observation, before landing the listener in a more concrete, defined setting. “The Walls Don’t Talk” animates a brick-and-mortar building, making it a participant observer in the last days of a doomed relationship.
All of this is handled with a subtlety that is masterful, and oh-so-happily, none of it is the slightest bit pretentious. Pipitone doesn’t navel-gaze, because she’s too busy cranking out big, fat, distorted chords on her Telecaster, while the band kicks booty behind her. It’s cathartic, liberating, and smart rock ’n’ roll.
CD Review
Alison Pipitone Band
Me and Miss Grimes
[ Independent]
★★★
(out of four)
jmiers@buffnews.com - Jeff Miers, Buffalo News Pop Music Critic
Discography
Me and Miss Grimes (2009)
Tigerbabies (2006)
Retrodyne (2003)
I'll Ask Her (2002)
Shake It Around (2000)
Like Being Born (1998)
Down To Money (1997)
Life in the First Person (1995)
Photos
Bio
Not far into the first moments of an evening with the Alison Pipitone Band you sense something different. Yes, there are the “familiars”: the petite dynamo with a blistering axe and a voice that swings easy from sultry singeing soul to slow sweet syrup; the lazy elegance of a band so smart and tight that cohesiveness dwells only in the subconscious of the players; avid – even rabid – fans, from their home base in Buffalo, NY to far-flung outposts such as Los Angeles, New York, San Francisco, Memphis, St. Louis, Nashville and more.
Yes, in that way it is the same old story. But you know there’s something different.
The Alison Pipitone Band has racked up their share of street cred, of course, warming the stage for a who’s who of rock pioneers and practitioners: Joan Jett & the Blackhearts, the Bacon Brothers, Martha Wainwright, Barenaked Ladies, 5440, Lowest of the Low, Billy Bob Thornton Band, Michelle Malone, Vienna Teng, Exene Cervenka and Tarbox Ramblers. And while impressive – and that is impressive – it’s not making the difference that you hear. And there is a difference.
Certainly unique is the history: having boomeranged between both coasts, Alison settled herself in Los Angeles for a spell, long enough to help found an exciting, though ill-fated, rock outfit called the Monas. Feeling the shadow of grunge filling the canyons of Southern California, she exiled herself to Western New York, where she found instant acceptance in the local music scene, gathering honors, gigs, contracts, phone numbers and plenty of free drinks. But it wasn’t because she was the new girl in town, as Alison has proved her staying power having locked up the Buffalo Music Awards’ Top Original Female Vocalist Award for the last six consecutive years. No slouches themselves, her band enjoyed the Top Original Rock Band Award in 2005.
And about that band! Patrick Shaughnessy keeping everyone in line on the drums while Graham Howes expertly fills in the sound on guitar and, underneath it all, either Jim Whitford or Ben Clarke lovingly, groovingly lays the bass line. Often the band will expand to fill the need, employing Natalie Howes on backing vocals and Sheila Connors on accordion, Cajun rubboard and additional vocals.
And even with all of the history, talent and musicianship, you know there’s something different about the Alison Pipitone Band. And as you listen, it hits you.
The difference is the fun, the rock & roll humor, the feeling that you’re not just at a club with a roomful of strangers tapping toes. Rather, you’re at a backyard party with a few hundred friends, the drink is flowing, the mood is good. No one cares that you can’t dance, and no one cares if you can. You came to see the band, but you leave with the distinct impression that they were actually here for you. The difference is the heart. The difference is the attitude.
The difference is the difference.
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