Charming / Giant by Jarrod Hood Tweekitten Records OK, people, here it is, plain and simple. The options for any aspiring rock star who wishes to jump on C'ville's music industry juggernaut and ride that proverbial gravy train to a home in Keswick and a membership to the Hunt Club are surprisingly limited. Unless one A) is excited about playing a pseudo-funk derivative of classic rock, B) owns an acoustic guitar and a copy of Sing Along with Van Morrison, or C) has at least one extraneous percussionist, most gigs in town (namely the paying ones) are out of reach. "But wait," you say, "there is a place to turn. There are people who care -- an underground music scene full of those not concerned with dry-humping the cash cow, gathering under the red neon wing of a renowned little sushi bar in Ivy Square." Ah yes, my precious little ones, I know of this Tokyo Rose, this haven for the disenfranchised. But before you go and sell your collection of Englebert Humperdinck eight-tracks to pay for a 78 Econoline, remember that to get popularity (possibly even a chance to play) in the beloved basement, requires recognition from a group of the most exacting music critics around ... Charlottesville's Punk Rock Elite. Without P.R.E. support, you can kiss that poverty-line, but oh-so-admirable career good-bye. In light of this predicament, Charming's newly-released full-length album, Giant, becomes the accomplishment its name implies. Charming has a history here in Charlottesville beginning in late 1994 and early 95, when it released its first do-it-yourself-on-a-fourtrack-in-a-shed-on-J.P.A. E.P., Ritual. From the salad days of "Lilepalooza 95" (don't pretend you weren't there; I saw your tie-dyed T-shirt) to the present, it has been a long road for the little pop band that could, involving more personnel changes than Pink Floyd, large abdominal scars, and long periods of dormancy. Add to this list the fact that Charlottesville is not a town with the type of sensibilities required to embrace a band of this sort, and you get the idea that this disc has been long and hard in the making. Giant, released on California's infant Tweekitten label, is an independent pop band doing what independent pop bands should: playing songs to wiggle to. This in itself may explain why Charming has never been received as well here as it has been elsewhere; its music is 100% granola-free, low in angst as well as poly-oversaturated phat, not to mention more hooks than the P.R.E. could possibly stomach. For those of you who haven't caught wind of these kids before, Charming sounds like the love child of The Smiths and The Sundays weaned on the Beatles and given voice lessons by Tanya Donelly. Any description one can find of this band will probably abuse words like "sugary," "bouncy," and "squeezably-soft," but to overemphasize the upbeat, yet strangely melancholy feel of Charming is to miss what makes this band (and this album) worth a serious listen. After the initial urges toward gyration pass, it is easy to see that these songs are incredibly well-written. Charming knows what pop is all about and follows the form to near perfection. Guitarist/songwriter Ravi "riff-o-matic" Krishnaswami jangles out extremely catchy tunes that somehow manage to be simultaneously fresh and almost familiar, as the rest of the band follows suit stylistically to produce an album with a solid, unified sense of what each song should be. Giant begins briskly with an old live stand-by called "Social," and keeps the energy up through four songs, before slowing things down a bit with the Beatles-esque number "Doll Starr." This marks the beginning of a three-song stretch that constitutes what I believe to be Charming's best work. "Doll Starr," "Waltz," and "December" are perfect examples of the solid songwriting that has gained Charming considerable attention in certain circles across the country. These three also advertise the entire band's talent for producing pop. "Waltz" beautifully showcases vocalist Nicole Stoop's range and dynamic ability. "December" presents eerie and pensive vocals from Krishnaswami (not to mention some hot Casio-tone action), while the rhythm section of Chris Garvey (bass) and Dave Sherwin (drums) comes together beautifully to anchor all three songs. Lest it seem that I stand to receive royalties from the sale of this disc, let me say that there are a few things I find off-putting. First of all, the album is over-produced in many places. Harry Evans (of DC pop wonder Poole) and Krishnaswami (who shares the production credit) generally show a fair amount of taste as far as studio wizardry goes, allowing the song to dictate its own needs. However, at some points, such as the outro of "December," the boys get a little carried away with the toys at their disposal. Secondly, there is the issue of a drummer that is just too tense. In quite a few songs, the urge to say, "JUST TAKE A DEEP BREATH AND RELAX," detracts from any ability to appreciate what the drums add stylistically. Also, continuing the theory that the songs are all-important, track number eleven, "Free Advice," just doesn't cut the mustard in comparison with the rest of the album, falling on its face in spite of being one of the more technically solid cuts. All in all, Giant is a very solid platter with some interesting stuff happening and a whole lot of bounce for the buck. Will it lead our little lounge band to filthy lucre? Maybe, maybe not, but it's quite enough to see them get a little recognition outside of Tommyville, just to prove that the P.R.E. still can't skate.

back to Decweb main