10,000 Maniacs: Playing Favorites

10,000 MANIACS: PLAYING FAVORITES (2016)

1) What's The Matter Here?; 2) Like The Weather; 3) Love Among The Ruins; 4) Trouble Me; 5) More Than This; 6) Can't Ignore The Train; 7) Stockton Gala Days; 8) Because The Night; 9) Rainy Day; 10) Candy Everybody Wants; 11) My Sister Rose; 12) Hey Jack Kerouac; 13) These Are Days; 14) My Mother The War.

Apparently, the performance used for this live album was recorded prior to Twice Told Tales (on September 13, 2014, at an arts center in Jamestown), but they held off releasing the recording for almost two years for some reason. This is not the first live album for the band — besides the obvious Unplugged, there is also an obscure 2006 release (only sold on tour) Live Twenty-Five, com­memorating the band's jubilee and featuring short-term lead vocalist Oskar Saville. This one, however, seems to be more widely distributed, and besides, it features no less than four original members of the band — everybody except for Merchant and the deceased Robert Buck is present, making the record almost, you know... legitimate.

The kick is that everything sounds very nice. They run through their own minor hits and classics without any glitches whatsoever — new lead guitarist Jeff Erickson is respectful of Robert Buck's original style, and the extra guest musicians (a brass section, a cellist, and an additional backing singer) flesh out their more musically ambitious songs, like ʽCandy Everybody Wantsʼ, to near-perfection. Of course, considering how thoroughly the tracks have been cleansed of any signs of audience participation (they even choose the fade-in, fade-out principle to present the material, with no in-between-songs banter whatsoever), the problem is that most of the performances just faithfully reproduce studio originals. But then again, considering that most of us probably have serious trouble remembering how any of those 10,000 Maniacs hits used to go, I guess this isn't too much of a crime, considering how technically smooth the performances are.

And then, of course, this is the only live album by the 10,000 Maniacs where you get to hear Natalie Merchant songs performed by Mary Ramsey — well worth hearing at least out of sheer curiosity. (They also do three tunes from Love Among The Ruins, but you can tell that, as much as they love Mary as a bandmate, the band's post-Merchant musical output is not exactly bursting with «favorites»). All her life, Merchant was a crusader, unlike Ramsey, who seems more like the quiet, earthy, folk-loving type; so it is interesting to hear her add a touch of that earthiness to the band's «socially troubled» classics, and I would not hasten to declare her performances less touching or less tense than Merchant's just because her voice is lower or because her phrasing is a tad slower. These are not her songs, but she still does them a special kind of justice.

The only surprise on the record is the final track: not only do they drastically rearrange ʽMy Mother The Warʼ, making it sound much more like modern bombastic indie rock à la Arcade Fire or British Sea Power rather than typical New Wave pop-rock from the early Eighties that it used to be, but they also invite returning founding member John Lombardo to sing on it — probably not a very good decision, because the man cannot sing worth a broken nickel, but a touching gesture all the same. Actually, the entire album is a touching gesture: if you really like the old 10,000 Maniacs classics (enough to keep on relistening to them on a regular basis), I heartily recommend it as a tasteful diversion from the usual routine. If you think they are just all right, though, I doubt that switching from Merchant to Ramsey will work wonders in terms of your love, recognition, and support.

10,000 Maniacs: Twice Told Tales

10,000 MANIACS: TWICE TOLD TALES (2015)

1) Lady Mary Ramsey; 2) The Song Of Wandering Aengus; 3) She Moved Through The Fair; 4) Dark Eyed Sailor; 5) Misty Moisty Morning; 6) Bonny May; 7) Canadee-I-O; 8) Do You Love An Apple?; 9) Greenwood Sidey; 10) Carrickfergus; 11) Death Of Queen Jane.

As of 2015, it's officially alive — and no, it's not «Mary Ramsey and friends», it is still a more or less authentic version of the 10,000 Maniacs, with the original keyboardist, bassist, and drummer still loyally in place, and even John Lombardo making an appearance as the protective husband and the keeper of the flame, all in one. The only problem is that this time, they did not bother to compose any original material at all; instead, the idea is to really put the old «folk» back into «rock» and come out with an album of nothing but old folk tunes — an idea that both Natalie Mer­chant and the late Robert Buck would probably have abhorred. But it is 2015, and chances are that even if they manage to come up with another ʽDon't Talkʼ or ʽNoah's Doveʼ, nobody will give much of a damn anyway; so why, indeed, can't they just relax and be playful?

Actually, it's a nice little record. Not much to speak of: the arrangements are very straightforward and conventionally accessible — bass, drums, acoustic and soft electric guitars, some strings and keyboards, strictly middle of the road: no odd touches of electronica, and no attempts at strict acoustic-only «authenticity». It just sounds good, and Mary Ramsey's vocals still sound young and sweet, despite her recently pushing 50. Of course, it's also the kind of record that has already been produced countless times — more like Tales Told To Infinity, if you ask me — but if this material is handled with enough love and depth, well, it won't hurt to enjoy the old stuff once more in a very slightly different reading.

Oddities include the record being bookmarked by two strings-only performances of the instru­mental ʽLady Mary Ramseyʼ (amazing that, with a Mary Ramsey actually in the band, they never tried this stunt before!) and an accappella rendition of Yeats' ʽThe Song Of Wandering Aengusʼ, which sort of acts as a promotional introduction to our ageless national treasures, like a foreword or something. There the oddities end, and you get your predictable selection of Saxon, Irish, and Scottish ditties, shanties, canticles, and an occasional murder ballad thrown in.

I do reiterate that everything sounds nice, and they even put some effort in the arrangements — for instance, ʽShe Moved Through The Fairʼ gets a fairly complex set of overdubs and even a vaguely psychedelic guitar solo. The worst thing about the record is probably its album cover, cheesy to the point where you'd have to be a very cartoonish stereotype of a folk enthusiast to even want to pick up a CD like that at your local store; I do give my word that the music is much more rewarding than the album art would make it seem. However, none of the songs deserve individual comments — even Loreena McKennitt injects more personality into ʽCarrickfergusʼ than Mary Ramsey and 10,000 Maniacs, who, by the way, should really have changed their name to «10,000 Diligent, Respectful, Bookish Folkies» before giving us something like that.

Still, it's somehow nice to know that the band still has enough fans to support them, as the album was funded through PledgeMusic and released on an independent label — although why it feels nice, I'm not able to answer even to myself. I mean, when Jon Bon Jovi gets old and tired and washed up and penniless and starts appealing to fans on PledgeMusic, will that feel nice, too? Shouldn't that kind of compassion be reserved for people who still have something left to say even when long past their prime?.. Ah well, anyway, that would be taking it too seriously. All I know is, this record generated a decent vibe for fifty minutes, then sank into the swamp, but may­be it still made me a better man in the process; who really knows?

10,000 Maniacs: Music From The Motion Picture

10,000 MANIACS: MUSIC FROM THE MOTION PICTURE (2013)

1) I Don't Love You Too; 2) When We Walked On Clouds; 3) Gold; 4) Triangles; 5) Live For The Time Of Your Life; 6) It's A Beautiful Life; 7) Whippoorwill; 8) Fine Line; 9) Tiny Arrows; 10) Downhill; 11) Chautauqua Moon.

Okay, so I promised to let you know, after all, and yes, our favorite band, Ten Billion Maniacs, are back with a brand new album, although maybe not even all the fans know of its existence. Yes, three of the original members (the rhythm section and Dennis Drew on keyboards) still re­main, and, after a long period of absence, Mary Ramsey is back, too. The late Robert Buck has been replaced by Jeff Erickson, who not only handles the guitar duties, but also sings lead vocals on a couple of numbers — is that a first for the band or what?

Those who actually liked Love Among The Ruins, the band's friendly, but uninspired attempt at carrying on after the loss of Merchant, will be pleased to know that very little has changed — as of the early 2010s, guess what? they are still busy writing and recording friendly, but uninspired music. Mary Ramsey sounds warm and lovable, more like a young happy mother cuddling her child than a moody, insecure, guilt-ridden young girl; and her violin always stays in tune with her vocals. The guitars and keyboards breathe with folksy life, never subject to overproduction or encumbered with smart modern sound effects. Even Dennis Drew, at liberty to do what he wants, gets a lead vocal on the somberly waltzing ʽDownhillʼ, and it's a likable middle-aged «croak» (or «quack»?) that fits the song's mood perfectly. So?..

So the only problem is that, just like before, the individual songs never stick. Every second is more or less equally «pretty» as every next or preceding one, and if this band never «tore it up» when it was young, why should we even expect that it could add more dynamism when it got old? The overall genteel atmosphere knocks on your door with the opening seconds of ʽI Don't Love You Tooʼ (a message expressed by Ramsey with the outmost courteousness and gallantry) and fizzles away with the closing seconds of ʽChautaqua Moonʼ (a little chamber chat between violin and viola, probably overdubbed by Mary as she is credited for both). And rarely shifts to anything else, and practically never congeals into any memorable hooks.

On ʽIt's A Beautiful Lifeʼ, they dabble in a bit of experimentation, changing from folk-pop to reggae-pop, while the lyrics of the song present a slightly reworked version of ʽBig Rock Candy Mountainʼ. They pull it off without embarrassment, but reggae is a limiting form by itself, and they have no time or strength to do anything «special» with it other than offering a brief repose from the more standard formula. Other than that, I think I could only loosely single out ʽWhen We Walked On Cloudsʼ, with its focus on fast acoustic picking, «cloudy» organ background, and dreamy nostalgic singing, as a humble highlight that produces a «deeper» feeling than anything else on the album. But only loosely.

That said, I reiterate that the band still sounds adorable, and, at any rate, more enamored of and more sensitive towards this kind of music than most indie bands of the 21st century trying out this pastoral, idyllic, inoffensive brand of folk-rock. It might, indeed, be even better than Love Among The Ruins, since the band has aged and wisened up, and 10,000 Maniacs always tried to sound like they were «so much older then», and now they're sort of getting adequate, even if they do it at the expense of a near-total loss of songwriting skill. (Okay, I'm just beginning to get something back from the ringing electric riffs of ʽWhippoorwhillʼ... but it's such a thin, «wimpy» sound, it's going to take a while to woo these ears).

Anyway, no thumbs up, no thumbs down — strictly for the fans, but if you're a fan, seek it out while there still remains a micro-blip of it on the news radar. And that title: it's almost as if they knew they were releasing an album designed strictly for background listening!

Check "Music From The Motion Picture" (CD) on Amazon
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10,000 Maniacs: Campfire Songs

10,000 MANIACS: CAMPFIRE SONGS: THE POPULAR, OBSCURE & UNKN­O­W­N RECORDINGS (2004)

CD I: 1) Planned Obsolescence; 2) My Mother The War; 3) Tension; 4) Scorpio Rising; 5) Like The Weather; 6) Don't Talk; 7) What's The Matter Here?; 8) Hey Jack Kerouac; 9) Verdi Cries; 10) Trouble Me; 11) Poison In The Well; 12) You Happy Puppet; 13) Eat For Two; 14) Stockton Gala Days; 15) Candy Everybody Wants; 16) These Are Days; 17) Because The Night; CD II: 1) Poppy Selling Man; 2) Can't Ignore The Train (demo); 3) Peace Train; 4) Wildwood Flower; 5) Hello In There; 6) To Sir With Love; 7) Everyday Is Like Sunday; 8) These Days; 9) Hope That I Don't Fall In Love With You; 10) Starman; 11) Let The Mystery Be; 12) Noah's Dove (demo); 13) Circle Dream (alternate lyrics demo); 14) Eden (alternate lyrics demo).

Not to be confused with the Animal Collective album of the same name — which, odd enough, had only just come out one year earlier — this is a 2-CD compilation of assorted 10,000 Maniacs stuff, compiled in strict accordance with the common and abominable principle: «layman gets one half, fan man gets one half, tax man gets to laugh». Meaning, of course, that each of the ten thousand maniac admirers of the band, before buying this, would do better to find an average Joe on the street and convince him to split the deal in half. Only that-a way will everybody be happy. One CD of greatest hits, one CD of obscure demos and outtakes. How else does one manage?

That said, if the split does not happen, the average Joe may still remain pleased, and the average maniac will be comforted by the fact that the second disc is actually very strong — much stronger, in fact, than any average original LP by the band. Both CDs are quite comparable in quality, so that, without any additional information, I doubt that one will be easily able to tell which of the recordings are «popular» and which ones are «obscure».

There is a simple reason behind this, though: the absolute majority of the songs on disc 2 are co­ver versions, and the Maniacs had always been a credible, trustworthy cover band, specializing in doing justice to source material without ever threatening to improve upon it. Even when they are experimenting — for instance, going wildly Jamaican on David Bowie's 'Starman' — they still sound passionately nice, and when they are not and are just going for the goods, they sound stately and gracious, e. g. 'These Days', which Merchant interprets along the same Gothic lines as Nico used to, but her voice will, of course, be always more palatable to everyone who feels un­easy about Nico's odd-accented iciness. Equally fine are the covers of John Prine, Morrisey and Tom Waits, and there is even a wild two-minute turkey chase fiddle romp as the band rip their way through the Carter Family's 'Wildwood Flower'. Finally, their faith in Cat Stevens is rein­stated, as the original cover version of 'Peace Train' once again makes its way onto a 10,000 Ma­niacs album. Someone just got smarter!

Add to this a couple fun collaborations (a live version of 'To Sir, With Love' with a sentimental duet between Merchant and Michael Stipe, and another duet with David Byrne on Iris DeMent's 'Let The Mystery Be') as well as one excellent original outtake (Merchant's 'Poppy Selling Man', driven by the finest organ riff these guys ever came up with; not the tiniest clue as to what made them keep the song in the vaults all those years), and it really makes you wonder how come they missed their chance at becoming America's hottest shit when they had so much going for them. They could even write good songs — they... sort of... chose not to.

Anyway, if only the first CD were to be replaced with Unplugged, the resulting package would really make for a killer collection of non-overlapping material. On the other hand, if you already know that one album from the Maniacs is your uncrossable threshold, go for Campfire Songs, and do not be afraid of the B-sides and outtakes. Some may say that Natalie Merchant was born into this world to sing 'My Mother The War' and 'Can't Ignore The Train'; I say that she might have equally well been born to remind us of the fine qualities of Cat Stevens, Nico, and John Prine, even if it has to be done through the prism of her own ego. I don't think there's anything wrong with that, really. Thumbs up.

Check "Campfire Songs" (CD) on Amazon

10,000 Maniacs: The Earth Pressed Flat

10,000 MANIACS: THE EARTH PRESSED FLAT (1999)

1) The Earth Pressed Flat; 2) Ellen; 3) Once A City; 4) Glow; 5) On & On (Mersey Song); 6) Somebody's Heaven; 7) Cabaret; 8) Beyond The Blue; 9) Smallest Step; 10) In The Quiet Morning; 11) Time Turns; 12) Hidden In My Heart; 13) Who Knows Where The Time Goes.

This review will be kept short. Most of the band's second studio album with Mary Ramsey con­sists of outtakes from sessions held for their first. Therefore, everything said about Love Among The Ruins applies to this album, along with the self-understood warning that these songs were not seen fit for inclusion by the Maniacs on an album which, all by itself, was already a typically tepid affair. With that in mind, fans of Mary Ramsey are welcome to enjoy the songs.

One strangely annoying aspect of this record, worth a brief mention, is that, starting from track six, the tunes initiate a continuous run with little in-between-song links eliminating pauses; these range from absent-minded mandolin plucking to ambient synthesizer landscapes to even a little bit of goofy rapping on Mary's part. Very annoying in all, because little bits of silence are some­times necessary on 10,000 Maniacs records to be able to tell when one song is over and the next one has begun, plus it adds a whiff of ambitious conceptuality that is not at all justified by the ma­terial. You can't really turn a third-rate album of second-rate outtakes into a work of art.

That said, there is some nice echoey picking on the title track, and 'Once A City' and 'On & On' both have their stereotypical bits of charm. And the cover of 'Who Knows Where The Time Goes', in the usual Maniacs fashion, works as a likeable, listenable tribute to an original whose true heights these guys would not even know where to begin to scale.

It is almost fortunate that The Earth Pressed Flat became the Maniacs' last studio album so far: almost, because a good reason behind this could be the band's realization that the world really did not give a damn about their getting it on — but instead, it turned out to be Robert Buck's death from liver failure one year later. Not that the story was over. Various band members still conti­nued to tour and record occasional live albums as 10,000 Maniacs (in the mid 2000-s, they even released a couple of them done by a line-up that included singer Oskar Saville from the Chicago band Rubygrass — and no, don't worry, Oskar Saville is really a girl), and as of 2011, with Mary Ramsey officially back in the band, rumor has it that they are planning on a new record — one that, if it does come out, will probably redefine the meaning of the word «tepid» one more time in its already cluttered history. I'll let you know.

10,000 Maniacs: Love Among The Ruins

10,000 MANIACS: LOVE AMONG THE RUINS (1997)

1) Rainy Day; 2) Love Among The Ruins; 3) Even With My Eyes Closed; 4) Girl On A Train; 5) Green Children; 6) A Room For Everything; 7) More Than This; 8) Big Star; 9) You Won't Find; 10) All That Never Happens; 11) Shi­ning Light; 12) Across The Fields.

Here must it be said that, after leaving the band in 1986, co-founder Jon Lombardo refocused his attention on a new project — the neo-folk duo «John & Mary», along with classically trained vio­linist Mary Ramsey. With John & Mary regularly opening live sets for the Maniacs, it was only a matter of time before they started guesting in the studio, particularly Mary with her violin contri­butions to Our Time In Eden. And then it was only a matter of time before John was back in the band — and then along comes Mary, and did she ever want to be a steady chick... uh, sorry, wrong band.

No matter how hard it were to believe this from time to time, 10,000 Maniacs were a band, not a faceless vehicle behind Natalie Merchant's personality — and, by all means, they were not res­pon­sible for her departure, so there could hardly be any ethical question about their right to carry on. There could be a question of whether they would remain the same old boring 10,000 Maniacs, or perhaps profit from the occasion by incorporating elements of grindcore and acid jazz. They did not, and fans were relieved to still hear the same middle-of-the-road tepidness.

Nevertheless, Mary Ramsey still managed to bring on huge changes. Politics and social consci­ousness have been more or less expurgated from the lyrics and the vibe. From now on, the Mani­acs would be just a folk-rock act — singing light, friendly, comfortable fare about stars, hearts, shining lights, fields, grasshoppers, and fucking in the barn. (Okay, that last one is merely sur­mised). You want environmental concern and liberal propaganda — off you go to follow Mer­chant and her solo endeavours. This band is bound for the music-only train now.

Not only for this, but also out of some sort of general disenchantment reviewers generally fell upon Mary Ramsey, condemning her for lacking the spirit, the fire, the passion, the dedication, the blah blah blah of Merchant. All of this was true, but hardly a proper pretext for criticism; Ma­ry is simply different, a quiet, humble, seemingly introvert performer who, nevertheless, obvi­ous­ly loves this kind of music and has the proper combination of grace, intelligence, loveliness, and vocal training to be suited to it. Never ever pretending to possess even a tenth part of Merchant's rowdy personality, I can still see how it would be possible to like her overall approach even more, particularly if one cherishes humility in art above posturing.

The problem with Love Among The Ruins is definitely not Mary Ramsey — it is the ongoing inability of the band to create music that would rise one hair-width above «pleasant background». 'Rainy Day' is an A-grade, hopeful kick-starter, mainly because of its clever use of silence to in­troduce the vocal hook, but after that, they only come relatively close with 'Green Children', an epic retelling of an old legend about a pair of alien children (almost by chance falling upon a fine chord progression in the chorus), and then with a more than adequate cover of Roxy Music's 'More Than This' — predictably, they cannot beat the original (it would be impolite towards the lady to begin comparing her range and strength with that of Bryan Ferry), but they do not spoil it, either, and, frankly, at this point I'd rather hear them do lots of covers of good songs than pile up the world's stores of mediocrity by continuing to write their own ones.

Still, it almost feels cruel to give this new version of the band a negative rating. With the guitars, violins, and pianos sounding so nice, and Mary singing so nice, and the whole vibe being so nice, is it their fault that their parents forgot to endow them with songwriters' genes? Let us not forget that there are, on the other side of the globe, tons of great songwriters who could never even be­gin to assemble together this kind of a nice sound. Surely there must be something said for nice­ness. I place this album together with my ambient Brian Eno collection: the perfect way to rock you to an easy, pleasant, revitalizing sleep, for about fifty minutes.

Check "Love Among The Ruins" (CD) on Amazon

10,000 Maniacs: MTV Unplugged

10,000 MANIACS: MTV UNPLUGGED (1993)

1) These Are The Days; 2) Eat For Two; 3) Candy Everybody Wants; 4) I'm Not The Man; 5) Don't Talk; 6) Hey Jack Kerouac; 7) What's The Matter Here?; 8) Gold Rush Brides; 9) Like The Weather; 10) Trouble Me; 11) Jezebel; 12) Because The Night; 13) Stockton Gala Days; 14) Noah's Dove.

In August 1993, Merchant announced her resignation from 10,000 Maniacs, admittedly because she said she needed more creative freedom — which must have given a serious confidence boost to the other band members, considering that the average Joe must have always thought of the Ma­niacs as a bunch of backing musicians for Natalie's ego anyway: The Curse of the Frontwoman Dancing Barefoot.

Generously and wisely, the announcement did not take place until the recording, a few months earlier, of 10,000 Maniacs' most satisfying and well-summarizing album — the fact that it took the MTV Unplugged series to trigger it is a little quirky, but, want it or not, the project did yield quite a few excellent results, from Eric Clapton to Alice In Chains; and there are few people who got more lucky out of it than the original Maniacs.

First, the setlist: consistently consistent, with the band concentrating almost exclusively on their «hookiest» songs (bar just one or two soporific numbers from Our Time In Eden, which they did have to promote heavier than the rest, after all). Use this as your introduction to 10,000 Mani­acs and you might find yourself easily intrigued and steeped in wonder at why I keep dissing all the studio LPs for lacking interesting ideas. Even the single surprise of the evening, a cover of Springsteen / Patti Smith's 'Because The Night', adding nothing eye-opening to the original, does not take anything away either and is as nicely listenable as everything else.

Second, the setting is very convenient. One might simply want to package all of the studio origi­nals on a Best-Of, or demand a full-blown electric concert album instead — one would be wrong, because at heart all of these guys are folkies, and this is the first time that their sound seems to have soared in a new fit of inspiration ever since they traded in the sharper punk-folk style of the early 1980s in favour of blander overproduction of the second half of the decade. What I mean is — sometimes it is better to go all the way and prove why the «soft» in «soft rock» has any real reason to exist, than to try and mask it with pseudo-rock styles of production. If you're unhip, just come out and say so. MTV Unplugged sort of does, and gets my respect for it.

Third, the atmosphere sort of works wonders attenuating the soft, humble charms of Ms. Na­tasha. This is, after all, her only official live album with her band, and she sings each song to per­fection without ever trying to stick out with some on-the-spot vocal gimmick or to spice up the proceedings with lots of moralistic or simply forced banter (compare Ani DiFranco with her eternal nerve-wrecking giggle whose only purpose is to tell us «yeah, I do have a sense of humor — a stupid sense of humor, perhaps, but at least you will leave this show convinced that I'm not just a man-hating bitch, no matter how much the actual songs make you all feel inferior»). There's grace and loveliness and humility and it all compensates for the boredom and monotonousness.

Can't say, however, that I'm a great fan of this slowed-down, «sensitivized» new reading of 'Eat For Two' — the disturbing paranoia of the original was a much better message than this suddenly appearing aura of melancholic tenderness. But the rest of the songs, from the lovingly crafted gui­tar hook of 'Like The Weather' to the dark bassoon palette of 'I'm Not The Man', faithfully carry over all of the original good points, for which the band recruits lots of supporting musicians (in­cluding, once again, Mary Ramsey, soon to inherit the band from Natalie). Thumbs up without a question — even Republicans might want to add this to their collection, much as Ms. Merchant would want to personally remove all of their internal organs and feed them to Africa's starving children.

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