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‘Marquis' a diamond of swamp pop-rock
Thursday, Oct 21, 2004 - 10:01:49 pm CDT
Rock
C.C. Adcock
"Lafayette Marquis"
***
Ten years ago, C.C. Adcock made a fine record of swamp rock, then disappeared from view. With "Lafayette Marquis," Adcock is back and as funky and rockin' as ever. But the best thing about his new record is that it isn't swamp under glass, respectfully recycling old sounds.
Instead, Adcock shows he's as much at home with today's studio sounds as with roots music, working with a handful of producers from Dr. Dre co-hort Mike Elizondo to the late Jack Nitzsche of Rolling Stones fame.
So there are loops and other studio tricks on cuts such as "Slangshotz N' Boom-R-Angz," a tune that hints of Creedence Clearwater Revival, the band that took swamp pop nationwide in the '60s. In constrast, a fiddle pops up to duet with the guitar on the raw, acoustic "Runaway Life," and there's plenty of dirty guitar on "Loaded Gun."
Even though the styles differ, there's a groove that starts with the opening track and continues through the entire disc. That's perfectly fitting, for "Lafayette Marquis" is definitely a south Louisiana record.
Full of regional references, from the slave story of "Runaway Life" to the Cajun rockabilly of "I Love You" recorded live and sweaty, "Lafayette Marquis" is a rare example of what used to be one of American music's greatest strengths — a record that reflects the place the music comes from with distinctive style and feel.
If you like swamp pop or rootsy rock 'n' roll that's not afraid to be contemporary, go find "Lafayette Marquis" — you'll be glad you did.
— L. Kent Wolgamott
Pop
Elliott Smith
"from a basement on the hill"
***½
Although signs pointed to suicide, the official cause of Elliott Smith's death a year ago is still a mystery. That leaves the veiled confessions and snarling invectives found throughout "from a basement on the hill" prime for close inspection. Written and performed almost entirely by Smith in the years leading up to his death, the somewhat uneven songs that comprise his last studio album vividly tie Smith's aching tenor to the circumstances, perfectly echoing the sentiment of the album's title: being high and low at the same time.
A minute and a half in, a feistier Smith rattles off the contradictory line "I've got no new act to amuse you" before showcasing the record's stylistic breadth. Ranging from sparse acoustic pop to sprawling mope rock, at times "from a basement …" comes off as not completely finished, which is somehow fitting and makes it even more devastating.
The title of closer "A Distorted Reality Is Now a Necessity to be Free" works as a brief summation of the record's tone. Previously released as a stripped version with alternate lyrics, it's Smith at his most simultaneously intense and beaten, flailing diatribes like "You disappoint me" at anyone within earshot.
Despite the perceived lightness of some arrangements, this album weighs a ton. When Smith's not trying to keep someone from using their "starving gun" or looking for "some beautiful place to get lost," he's consorting with a girl who's "hard and cracked as the Liberty Bell" who "sees her own body outlined in chalk."
"Pretty (Ugly Before)'s" gorgeous melody drifts into Smith and Sam Coomes (of Quasi) harmonizing: "I felt so ugly before/I didn't know what to do," undercutting the inherent dejection. The lyrics "I haven't laughed this hard in a long time/But better stop now before I start crying" christen the delicate "Twilight" before Smith warns of the worst:
"I'm tired of being down/I got no fight."
"A Fond Farewell," perhaps the prettiest song Smith ever penned, eerily cements his legacy. Seemingly written about someone else, it's a haunting lament for someone who's died, and not necessarily physically. Depicting "a man dying in the living room, vomiting in the kitchen sink," and repeating (as if to convince oneself) "this is not my life/It's just a fond farewell to a friend/It's not what I'm like/It's just a fond farewell to a friend/Who couldn't get things right." It plays as a teary goodbye to one of his generation's finest songwriters.
— Jake O'Connell
The Associated Press
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