songs in a thin voice that talks more than sings, a better comparison would be to David Bowie.
Bill Whitten, the vocalist, guitarist and creative force behind St. Johnny, claims he is compared endlessly to Lou Reed.
While grounds for such a comparison may be found in that Whitten delivers
songs in a thin voice that talks more than sings, a better comparison would be to David Bowie.
Like Bowie, Whitten has an artsy sense for music without killing a sense of life. A giant plus when one considers the turgid art experiments of Emerson, Lake and Palmer.
Whitten is a studio geek. He loves overdubs almost as much as the control freaks in Def Leppard. The downside to such a habit is that on a song like "Million Dollar Bet," an entire gospel choir can be swallowed up in all the strange noise Whitten slabs on with no notion of the word "restraint."
The upshot, however, is that he can make some music one would be hard pressed to say they've heard before.
Surprisingly, the extensive studio work doesn't stifle the looseness inherent in the songs. They sound fresh when by all rights they should sound like embalmed museum pieces.
"Scuba Diving" opens the album and, at first listen, it seems too noisy and disorganized. After closer inspection, however, one can make out the solid song structure and sense of melody that makes all the songs on the album qualify - in their own dysfunctional way - as "pop."
"Scuba Diving" is similar in that way to labelmate Nirvana. Nirvana's In Uteroopening track, "Serve the Servants" shares a loud and abrasive sense of melody with "Scuba Diving."
On a song like "Bluebird," Whitten's singing and songwriting recalls the power-pop of Big Star. "Hey Teenager!" has some outstanding guitar work of the white boy funk-metal variety that deserves a listen.
Not every song works, and some come off as dull. Yet, the peaks are higher than the valleys are deep. The rest of the folks in St. Johnny are first rate musicians who sound great even when a veritable mountain of studio overdubs are dumped on top.
For example, St. Johnny`s pianist, Jim Elliot, adds an off-kilter melodic quality to the music much like that found in Mazzy Star (for whom St. Johnny has been an opening act).
While not a quiet band, St. Johnny is not the next big thing for arena rock. The production turned the guitars up but Whitten's pitch and delivery is low-key in a manner reminiscent of slacker superstar Beck.
Terms used to describe St. Johnny shouldn't be taken as dubious praise or as a series of backhanded compliments. Usually, when one speaks of an album as being "experimental" one thinks coffee house avant garde crap that can only be appreciated with a degree in musicology.
While not straight-ahead rock 'n' roll, a la Guns N Roses, St. Johnny is a guitar band first and foremost.
And a pretty good one too.
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