Showing posts with label Quinn Sullivan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Quinn Sullivan. Show all posts

Monday, July 29, 2024

Quickies - Quinn Sullivan, Chris Cain, Lara Price and Alex Voysey

Catching up on some recent releases from different shades of the blues spectrum.

Quinn Sullivan – Salvation
 
What manner of artist is Quinn Sullivan?  The guy’s tastes seem to be eclectic, and for me the results when he hits the ‘Record’ button are also a bit mixed.
With his pleasant, airy voice he does a good job on the kinda ‘Boys Of Summer’ West Coast rock vibe of opener ‘Dark Love’.  With its lurching beat and chunky guitar sound it’s a grabber
Quinn Sullivan avoids being blinded by the light
Pic by Jim Arbogast
from the start, and has a fun electric piano break as a precursor to Sullivan letting rip – well, a bit – on guitar.  In fact it’s a bit of a recurring theme that our Quinn tends to wear his guitar chops lightly, though his scintillating solo on ‘Don’t Wanna Die Today’ hints at his ability to wig out.  But on the closing live recording of ‘Eyesight To The Blind’, an upbeat take with funk leanings, he really does let himself go, knocking out some fizzing guitar work and squealing soloing over the galloping drums and high revving bass.  More of this kinda sound would be a good thing, sez I.
There’s a taste of it in the staccato rocker ‘Rise Up Children’, which with Sullivan’s light vocals and bursts of slide over a whacking backbeat puts me in mind of Tyler Bryant.  The funk aspect also comes over well on ‘Salvation (Make Me Wanna Pray)’ and ‘I Can’t Stay (And You Can’t Go)’, the former featuring squelchy, Vocoder-like guitar licks, and the latter sporting a taut guitar break leading to an equally taut, almost tough bridge, before some more ear-catching guitar work to close.
Some stuff appeals less though.  The sophisticated blue-eyed soul of ‘Once Upon A Lie’ is done well, but isn’t my kinda thing.  ‘Better In Love’ is soft and slow, and what you might call a winsome sort of love song – or maybe just a bit soppy.  And ‘Half My Heart’ is Sullivan’s all too obvious shot at an ersatz Beatles ballad, on which the weeping guitar intro may work but the drippy lyric doesn’t.
Quinn Sullivan is a talented young guy, evident in some of the songs here.  But while I’m all for variety, Salvation is just a bit scattergun.  A bit more focus would be welcome, to better harness Sullivan’s obvious strengths.
 
Salvation is out now on Provogue/Mascot Label Group, and can be ordered here.


Chris Cain – Good Intentions Gone Bad
 
Less is more.  The whole is less than the sum of its parts.  These are the axioms that spring to mind listening to the latest album from Chris Cain.
Chris Cain’s guitar tone is as zesty as it was on his 2021 album Raisin’ Cain, and he can still turn a nifty lyrical phrase when he puts his mind to it, but his voice shows signs of creaking a bit at times here.
Sometimes vocal wear and tear can be an asset in a blues setting, mind you.  Cain’s delivery of
Chris Cain and a guitar called Melba
Pic by Laura Carbone
the pessimistic lyric on the downbeat ‘Waiting For The Sun To Rise’ is convincing, and his atmospheric, sustain-heavy solo also serves the song well, along with the Mellotron strings contributed by producer Kid Andersen.  But while some of Cain’s own piano playing, some doesn’t, and a snatch of Bach-like organ is plain distracting.  It’s an example of inconsistency that raises its head more than once.
But hey, there are good moments to be found all the same.  Opener ‘Too Little Too Late’ is a brisk and bright jump blues with an amusing lyric, though it runs out of gas a bit.  ‘Still Drinking Straight Tequila’ is funky fare led by Kid Andersen’s deep down bass lines, with a lyric about a guy’s lifestyle improvements – one or two elements excepted. With a neat contrast between verse and chorus, the latter blessed with neat backing vocals from Lisa Andersen, and a fun guitar solo, it may not be a masterpiece but it works.  The following ‘Bad Dream’ is a slow blues with tense, pinging guitar that has real character, with Cain adding some restrained tinkling piano over Andersen’s thoughtful, plonking bass, and the vocal is on the money here too.  Later, ‘Never Let You Break My Heart’ is another slow blues, about relationship breakdown and self-respect, with pointed lyrics and a good melody, plus some nifty guitar licks and a good electric piano solo from Cain.  It’s worth saying too, that the bass playing on the album, shared largely by Kid Andersen and Cody Wright, is often what gives proceedings a bit of zip.
Cain’s actual guitar solo on ‘Never Let You Break My Heart’ feels like pretty standard fare though, an issue that crops up from time to time.  Listening to the likes of ‘I Was Wrong’ and ‘Had About All I Can Take’ for example, there’s a sense that as sharp as Cain’s playing can be, some of the solos across the album aren’t sufficiently rooted in the individual songs.Ultimately, Good Intentions Gone Bad is a so-so album, which could have done with some judicious pruning to give it more definition and less repetition.  Less is more, and all that.
 
Good Intentions Gone Bad is out now on Alligator Records.


Lara Price – Half And Half
Lara Price gets halfway up the stairs
Pic by Brynn Osborn


Titled to reflect the fact that half the album was recorded in the San Francisco Bay Area where Lara Price has her musical roots, and half in Austin, Texas where she now plies her trade, it seems to me that Half & Half is a half-decaff first outing from Lara Price.
The girl can certainly sing though, as she demonstrates on a couple of tasteful covers.  Duke Ellington’s ‘Solitude’ is very much Great American Songbook territory, with jazz guitar accompaniment, sweetly sung with good phrasing from Price – nicely done, if you like that sort of thing.  The soulful torch song ‘Trouble, Heartache, Sadness’, penned by Ann Peebles and Don Bryant, is better though.  It’s smoochy and slinky, nicely put together with swooning female backing vocals, and Price absolutely does it justice, ultimately embellished by muted, conversational guitar and piano from Mike Schermer and Baxter Robertson that’s sadly allowed to fade out without further input from Price.
‘Fools Like Me’ and ‘Days Ago’ go in a different, country-inflected direction, the first a brief but bubbly outbreak of honky tonk, with chugging guitar and chiming piano, the second a slice of boogie with a suspenseful chorus and bridge, and an apparently uncredited male singer adding a ‘Walking In Memphis’ twist of soul.  Speaking of soul, the closing ‘Heart On A String’ is a catchy enough soul ditty, with Robertson’s piano and organ to the fore and Endre Tarczy’s bass bopping about elastically en route to an arresting key change.
In between these tunes though, several tracks feel inconsequential, lacking in oomph or sturdy hooks.  So you might say that half of Half & Half hits the spot, and half finds Lara Price trying to settle on her style.  There’s potential there, but it’s still to be fully realised.
 
Half & Half is out now on Gulf Coast Records.



Alex Voysey – Blues In Isolation
 
On the evidence of this second album, British guitarist and singer Alex Voysey is, shall we say, rather more comfortable with the strumming than the humming. Which is a pity, because when he chances on some material where he’s more comfortable in both zones, things bumble along quite nicely.
On the country-folkish blues of ‘Start Talking’, for example, he may not shoot the lights out as a singer, but his English intonation fits the jaunty charm of the tune and its revolving acoustic guitar line quite well.  Similarly the closing ‘Whiskey And Wine’ paints a picture of domestic harmony with easy conviction, and accordingly Voysey’s vocal seems to acquire more authenticity, and his solo is a good fit too, playing around with the melody.  Meanwhile ‘Forbidden Rock’n’Roll Jam’ seems to benefit from a don't give a damn, let the good times roll
Alex Voysey gets down to some illicit rock'n'roll jamming
kinda attitude.  Reflecting on rumours of illicit pandemic music parties, Voysey and friends get stuck in and thrive on the resulting energy, with some vibrant guitar, enthusiastic backing vocals from Alison Jiear, scudding bass from Ben Hands, and Voysey ultimately coming over all Chuck Berry.
‘Watch The Sky’ starts with mellow electric piano from Andy Allpass, and stirs some interest as Voysey’s guitar gets gutsy and starts to sting, reaching for an epic feel even if the melody isn’t always convincing.  Voysey’s solo is decent though, emphasising direction rather than getting carried away with possibilities.  ‘Old Shop On The Corner’ is a slow ‘un that hints at decent story-telling, but while the mood is captured, it doesn’t fulfil its potential as Voysey’s guitar work veers from a good feel for the material into some less potent flurries of high speed fluttering.
And so it goes, really.  ‘Down The Long Dark Road’ has some spangly guitar phases and thematic lead lines, but loses focus, while ‘Life You Lead’ has a satisfying Celtic-tinged guitar riff, but not much else to fire the imagination.  ‘You Better Come Back Home’ has a staccato funk vibe, with well-grooved bass and drums from Hands and Paul Arthurs respectively, but Voysey’s guitar fills work better than his flickering solo.  His sparky effort on the funky blues of ‘Away To Mississippi’ is better, and Allpass augments it with a good organ break, but the song itself isn’t that arresting.
Alex Voysey is clearly interested in different strands of blues and rock, but the challenge is for him to produce more material that allows him to express himself with real quality.
 
Blues In Isolation is out now, and can be ordered here.

Monday, May 31, 2021

Quinn Sullivan - Wide Awake

On his previous album, Midnight Highway, Quinn Sullivan was happy to sow his oats across a variety of musical influences and styles.  Four years down the line, having reached the ripe old age of 21, his new outing Wide Awake finds him apparently ready to settle down, and hone a sleek and soulful pop rock sound.
To begin with it feels like a sound that suits him, as he delivers the opening trio of tracks with commendable élan, under the guidance of producer and collaborator Oliver Leiber.  ‘All Around The World’ puts me in mind of Hall & Oates, with its bright, relaxed and sun-drenched vibe, and a
Quinn Sullivan - not too many years on the clock
Pic by Justin Borucki
Summer of Love lyric about peace and harmony, man.  And crucially, it’s long enough to have room to breathe, and give Sullivan the room for some neat, tasteful guitar filigrees.  ‘She’s So Irresistible’ bumps along in a lightly funky fashion, with a hazy pre-chorus and some spiralling organ fills lending a trippy feel, offset by some Morse Code bleeping guitar licks.  And ‘How Many Tears’ descends from Sixties soul via the Commodores, right down to Sullivan’s impressively executed falsetto vocal moments – a club he pulls out of the bag several times across the album.  It’s a good tune, with a pinpoint guitar solo, and at this point it feels like Sullivan is on a roll.
‘In A World Without You’ kicks off with a funky strut underscored by some rubbery bass playing, and if the chorus feels a bit lightweight then Sullivan makes up for it with some synthy-sounding injections of guitar.  It’s all very nicely done, but the shiny pop sensibility coming to the fore is now edging towards Maroon 5 territory.  Nothing wrong with that in principle, even if it’s not really my choice of hooch, but to these ears both the melody and lyrics begin to sound antiseptic.
Songs like the pop ballad ‘She’s Gone (And She Ain’t Coming Back)’, with lyrics about “my blue eyes crying the moonlight”, are just too sweet to be wholesome.  And that’s the way that it is for several songs to follow.
‘Real Thing’ may get some energy from its propulsive drum rhythm, and the return of that busy, elastic band bass may add some oomph to the summery, love-you-loads poptastic fare of ‘You’re The One’, but it’s all a bit formulaic.
There’s some grittier guitar on the intro to ‘Wide Awake’ itself, and some bigger chords get ripped out – well, carefully torn perhaps – to underpin the Beatle-ish melody, with some squealing guitar licks for added spice.  Crunching guitar chords give some thrust to ‘Strawberry Rain’, but it’s only the guts of his guitar solo that can redeem the insipid lyric – eg “I just can’t explain, she’s strawberry rain”.
The remaining two tracks do little to stir the soul, although the mini-epic guitar solo on the closing ‘Keep Up’ at least catches the ear for a spell.  But overall, with 12 songs running to 50 minutes, there’s just too much middle of the road stuff to maintain interest across the whole of Wide Awake.
And that’s a shame, because I’ve no doubt that Quinn Sullivan is a talented guy.  The kid can still play the guitar, that’s clear, and his polished singing is well-suited to the double-tracking Leiber deploys here and there, though I’d prefer his voice to have a few more miles on the clock.  But then again, when you get down to it, maybe I’m not the kind of audience Quinn Sullivan is trying to attract.

Wide Awake is released by Provogue Records on Friday 4 June.

Thursday, April 13, 2017

Quinn Sullivan - Midnight Highway

Teenage guitar prodigy.  Produced by Tom Hambridge.  Two phrases that don’t exactly fill me with confidence.  Too often the whizz kids suffer from PR types recklessly raising expectations.  And regular readers may have picked up on my doubts about the credentials of American uber-producer Hambridge.
Fair play though, the latter has done a nifty job of helming this third album by 17 year old plank spanker Quinn Sullivan, who does his own reputation no harm either with his playing and singing here.
Quinn Sullivan - the kid stays in the picture
Midnight Highway is a fresh and bright collection of songs, well executed by Sullivan, Hambridge (on drums), and some of the latter’s usual studio henchmen such as keyboard player Reese Wynans.  But anyone thinking that Sullivan’s association with Buddy Guy and past support slot for B.B. King means this is going to be wall-to-wall blues is going to be disappointed.  This is a diverse set that ranges from chunky R’n’B to AOR, from country-style fingerpicking to power pop.
The cover of ‘While My Guitar Gently Weeps’ is indicative of Sullivan’s twin influences of the Beatles and the blues, and if it’s a pretty faithful reading it’s also fresh and modern-sounding, with Sullivan delivering some accomplished soloing – no bar band rendition, this.
The tougher end of the Sullivan sound is apparent in the opening ‘Something For Me’ and the later ‘Rocks’.  The former opens with a 78rpm style muffled vocal and drumbeats with an underlying drone, giving way to modern R’n’B featuring trills of jazzy piano from Wynans and subtly squealing guitar from Sullivan.  The latter is a suitably titled bit of simple boogie with shuffling drums, and an interesting ‘collapse’ into the middle eight and guitar solo – it may be slight, but it’s nicely done indeed.  ‘Graveyard Stone’ serves up a funkier Sixties soulful angle - with ‘Hush’-like guitar and organ riffing it’s a bit shag-a-delic, baby.
The power pop comes in the shape of ‘Tell Me I’m Not Dreaming’, a catchy little number with jangling guitar chords and vocal harmonies that could have been been delivered unto us by – wait for it – McFly.  It’s as bright and airily constructed as something Kevin McCloud might admire on Grand Designs, but if that’s just too damn teenage girly for you there’s always ‘Crazy Into You’, which manages to inject a glossy blues feel into the pop vibe, with staccato rhythm guitar, a succession of neat guitar fills, some more tasty organ from Wynans – and a catchy chorus.  ‘Lifting Off’ may be a less snazzy song, but it’s still sonically interesting, with some interesting guitar tones and falsetto vocals – at which point I should note that while Sullivan’s voice may still be a bit boyish, his singing is more than capable throughout.
The title track has something of an Eagles feel to it, with pinging guitar notes and more tasteful organ, and if ‘Eyes For You’ has a rather naff lyric it still demonstrates that Sullivan can convey a convincing acoustic country feel.
There are also a couple of interesting instrumentals: the rippling ‘Big Sky’ edges towards Steve Howe-like guitar with echoing piano accompaniment before settling into something more mainstream; and the closing ‘Buffalo Nickel’ is in post-Hendrix mode, spacy and effects laden, with Sullivan practically getting his guitar to talk as matters progress towards a high revving finale, with Hambridge going on a disciplined tour of his kit at the finish.
Midnight Highway might not be a tour de force, but it is a highly professional outing from a talented kid who lives up to the expectations created for him, ably supported by some quality musicians and some sympathetic production from Hambridge.  I’m impressed – and pleasantly surprised.