RAIN PERRY
Men
Precipitous Records
The nicest things about writing music reviews mostly for my
own blog – as opposed to for newspapers and magazines, which I did for decades
and still do on rare occasions – is that I only have to write about music that
I really care about and about albums and artists that whose praises I want to sing.
I don’t have nearly enough time to write about all that I’d truly like to write
about so I don’t spend any time writing about music and artists I’m not
enthusiastic about.
I say that because Men by California singer-songwriter Rain
Perry is not the kind of album I generally like. I generally don’t care for
recordings where all of the tracks are layered on by one musician playing most
of the parts, or where many of the instruments are synthesized. I much prefer
the sound of real instruments, particularly acoustic instruments, being played
by different musicians, preferably at the same time. And like every rule, there
are occasional exceptions: Leonard Cohen’s albums like I’m Your Man that were built around
keyboards and drum machines or some of Laurie Anderson’s work, for example.
Rain’s Men is another exception. Although there are
other musicians and singers making an occasional cameo on some of the songs, most
of the songs are just Rain’s vocals on top of layered arrangements with
producer and occasional songwriting collaborator Mark Hallman playing all the
instruments – usually five or six different instruments per song.
But, there’s something about the quality of the songwriting
and the warmth of Rain’s singing, that makes Men a rewarding collection.
Among the highlights are “Get in the Car,” a breezy rock ‘n’
roll tune for mature adults that includes a great Gram Parsons reference, “One
of Those Days,” a mostly acoustic country-folk tune done as a duet with Matt
the Electrician, and “Runaway Train,” a terrific rockabilly tune about a man
who can’t be tied down that features several guest musicians, including Andrew
Hardin, one of my favorite guitar players.
But the most extraordinary piece is “Atlas,” a combination
of spoken beat poetry and quietly hypnotic electronic music somewhat reminiscent
of Laurie Anderson’s best work, in which Rain fantasizes about what happens to
Atlas, and to the world, when the Titan of Greek mythology gives up on holding
the world on his shoulders in modern times.
As well as eight of her own songs, Rain also includes a
couple of covers including a terrific version of “Then Came Lo Mein,” Robert
Earl Keen’s story of a nervous breakdown in a Chinese restaurant.
Listening, I soon forgot my prejudices about the way this
album was produced, and managed to lose myself in Rain Perry’s fine singing,
her equally fine songs, and even in Mark Hallman’s arrangements.
--Mike Regenstreif
