You can’t hear this CD yet
The CD: “Pretty Little Head” (label to be determined)
Performer: Nellie McKay
In a move typical of the slumping record industry, Columbia Records dropped eclectic songwriter/musician Nellie McKay from its artist roster a couple of weeks ago, after sending out review copies of her new album, “Pretty Little Head,” but before the CD’s planned release date of Jan. 3. The reasons for this are not entirely clear, but not totally unexpected.
McKay had been fighting with the label for weeks over the length of the album. Columbia sent out a 16-track version to reviewers, while Mckay was loudly protesting that they should release the full 23-track album that she submitted. That situation, coupled with the exit from Columbia of the man who signed her to the label — and the fact that Columbia couldn’t figure out how to promote such an hard-to-categorize artist who would not be touring to support the project — made it a foregone conclusion that the relationship was doomed.
McKay is said to have left on decent terms — with ownership of the masters — and will be looking into alternate means to distribute the album. But those plans are on hold as she prepares for a run on Broadway in “The Threepenny Opera.”
Meanwhile, we’re left with the Columbia Records edit of the album, which is quite striking. There are some phenomenal songs on this CD, and the production is as varied and surprising as McKay is herself. (”Mountain Stage” listeners may recall her appearance on the show a couple years back as a precocious, effervescent, sometimes potty-mouthed 17-year-old).
The CD kicks off with “Cupcake,” a tune about gay marriage, which manages to sound like a long-lost cut from the Mamas and Papas and The Bangles at the same time. That sets the tone for the CD, as many of the cuts show so many varied influences that you can almost play a game trying to figure out where this stuff is coming from. Musically, it’s all over the map, and lyrically McKay is just filled with inspiration. A short jazzy interlude, “Pink Chandelier,” follows, and manages not to be jarring, despite being a complete musical departure from the previous tune.
“There You Are In Me” manages to sound like Jane Siberry and vintage King Crimson at the same time. You have to wonder if the still very young (21 years old) McKay was raised in a used record store or something.
The masterpiece of the CD is “The Big One,” which could have been a huge hit single in the hands of the right promotional team. About a tenant’s rights activist, this tune sounds like it was co-produced by Dr. Dre, Kate Bush and They Might Be Giants. Yet it works. It’s got a hip-hop vibe, with a killer horn section and a piano line that may just be the best hook I’ve heard in ages. This song has “hit” written all over it.
After that epic sonic blast, the CD smartly takes a mellow turn, as the next four tunes showcase McKay’s sweet vocals in a less bombastic setting. “Gas” is just under two minutes of pleasant, piano-driven Beatlesque pop. “I Will Be There” is a lounge/samba tune that has a killer chorus and also sports some very Beatle-y sounding chord progressions. “The Down Low” has a Beck-ish drum pattern underneath a very clever little piano ditty, with sparkling vocals.
“Long And Lazy River” is a laid-back meandering slice of light jazz, again with very clever lyrics. Next up is “Bee Charmer,” a quirky duet with her “Threepenny Opera” co-star, Cyndi Lauper. Of course, it sounds like vintage Lauper with a lot of unexpected turns and spoken word interludes that belie its very commercial vibe.
“Real Life” is pure early-80s New Wave. I could reel off half-a-dozen bands that this sounds like, but nobody’s ever heard of them. It’s a kick that this sounds like it could have been recorded 25 years ago. It’s an aggressive little tune with strong power-pop leanings. This is followed by the slow, jazzy “I Am Nothing.”
Up next is a duet with KD Lang, “We Had It Right.” This is another one of those eclectic tunes that sounds like so many different things that you can’t really pinpoint all the influences. This song has quiet piano interludes, shimmering vocal arrangements and hints of British Tin Pan Alley.
As we approach the end of the album, McKay has established her own style that equals more than the sum of her many varied influences. The CD ends with the goofy “Tipperary,” which, though fun, is a bit extraneous.
Columbia’s eagerness to jettison such a unique artist is symptomatic of why the music industry is currently in such dire straits. Reportedly, when McKay was called by Columbia to be told that the album wasn’t coming out, the person who broke the news had to confess to never having listened to the CD, and further said: “This isn’t about the music. It’s a business decision.” Funny, I thought music was their business.
Let’s hope that this CD gets a proper release soon. It’s an amazing work. It’d be a shame to see the music industry run off a rare talent who could bring us decades of incredible music. After the split, Mckay told one reporter: “All that matters to me is that I can continue to make irritating music which will baffle and enrage.”
— By Rudy Panucci
