Poised somewhere between the Andrews SistersNouvelle Vague, the Puppini Sisters modernize vocal ha
rmony pop while keeping its "so traditional, it's hip" appeal. On their debut Betcha Bottom Dollar, the Sisters' style is their substance; it's not a coincidence that the founding Puppini, Marcella, worked for fashion icon Vivienne Westwood before forming the group. Fortunately, the trio's style -- vintage '40s outfits, cheeky covers of new wave and post-punk classics and all -- manages to stay on the likeable, not grating, side of kitsch. Taken individually, the trio's voices aren't spectacular, but they blend together nicely enough to create a convincing homage to the heyday of vocal harmony pop in the '30s and '40s. A very pleasant "Mr. Sandman," a pretty, languid "Java Jive" and "Sway" are among the best vocal pop standards on Betcha Bottom Dollar, but interestingly enough, the Puppini Sisters often sound less campy on the songs they remake than on the classics. Not surprisingly, the original versions of the tracks they've chosen to give three-part harmony makeovers have strong melodies and distinctive singers, so it's not really all that surprising that Kate Bush's "Wuthering Heights" sounds lovely with three-part harmonies, or that their version of Blondie's "Heart of Glass" fits right in with "Mr. Sandman." There are times on Betcha Bottom Dollar that things feel a little too knowing and ironic, as on the chirpy cover of the Smiths' "Panic," and the album might be a little too long for the mood it's trying to sustain. On the whole, however, the genuine affection for the styles the Puppini Sisters adopt and adapt saves Betcha Bottom Dollar from being insufferably cutesy.1
The Rise & Fall of Ruby Woo
On record you can't see the many costume changes into stunning '30s vintage dresses, or be impressed by the trio's mugging or musical chops -- Marcella Puppini plays piano and accordion and Stephanie O'Brien plays credible jazz fiddle. This leaves the vocalizing, and while the trio isn't half bad, its members are not spectacular or particularly adventurous singers. On their second album they follow the template of their first. There are a couple of standards including "It Don't Mean a Think If It Ain't Got That Swing," and contemporary numbers -- "Spooky," "Walk Like an Egyptian" -- delivered in '40s vocal trio-style arrangements. Fine as far as it goes, but the joke is wearing thin. The Puppini Sisters' salvation is clearly in their original material. All three Sisters write solid tunes; the sooner they can come up with a full album's worth of original tunes, the better their career prospects will be. Puppini's "I Can't Believe I'm Not a Millionaire" is a blues full of arch humor, and her "Jilted" sounds like it would have been a natural for Peggy Lee, a sultry, sexy tune with a strong hook and a great lyric. O'Brien contributes "Soho Nights" a jump tune with a strong vocal arrangement, a perfect evocation of the era they obviously love. Kate Mullins may be the strongest writer of the three. Her "It's Not Over (Death or the Toy Piano)" is another song in the big-band mode, but its complex melody and inventive lyric make it one of the album's strongest tracks.1
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strong cues from Jay Farrar and Jeff Tweedy's punkier sides. Not easily pigeonholed, the band also digs deep into the honest country-rock of Slobberbone and Drive-By Truckers, but somehow still manage to maintain their own soulful sound. Young vocalist Micah Schnabel gives the impression that he's smoked a pack a day since elementary school with his gritty rasp, aptly fitting their songs of heartache and leavin'. Bassist Shane Sweeny's gently shouted backup vocals add depth to the tearful "Girl of My Dreams," while Dustin Harigle's drumming is the only thing that holds the manic "River" together. Every song on Please Turn the Gas Back On burns with the amber light of the heartland -- hungover and heart-wrenching, sweetly fumbling and furiously pounding, gritty as barn doors and sweaty as a backseat in August.
ful lot like Two Cow Garage's The Wall Against Our Back that gives the otherwise , and that's intended as a compliment to both bands. Recorded in appropriately garage-like conditions by Slobberbone's Brent Best (who infuses the proceedings with the same ragged-but-right feel as his own band), the Columbus-based trio blasts out 13 songs that toy with grunge-era soft/LOUD dynamics at a thrashing pace. The relentless forward motion is broken once -- again, just like on a Replacements album -- by "Saturday Night," a solo acoustic ballad by singer Micah SchnabelWesterberg-hoarse singer a chance to be a bit more gentle to his vocal cords and the listener a chance to rest up a bit for the seething revved-up country two-step of "If This Is Home" and the flat-out punk fury of "Smell of Blood," which wouldn't sound out of place on a Hüsker Dü album. Cowpunk (as opposed to the more polite and rootsy alternative country) lives on in these grooves.






