Made in Chicago
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THE BELLS The Ultimate Seaside Companion (HitIt!). Local Scotsman Chris Connelly trades the stiff industrial-disco clatter of his days with Ministry and the Revolting Cocks for the cathartic balladry of tragic legends like Nick Drake and Tim Buckley–though he sounds like no one so much as Hunky Dory-era David Bowie. While there’s a laid-back beauty to the album as a whole, after 50 minutes it’s numbingly apparent that as a songwriter Connelly lacks the range of any of those forebears.
KEVIN DRUMM Kevin Drumm (Perdition Plastics). Tabletop guitarist Drumm has been lurking on the periphery of Chicago’s bustling improv scene for several years now, occasionally working with folks like Ken Vandermark and Jim O’Rourke as well as out-of-towners like Evan Parker and John Butcher, but his solo debut suggests that he comes from even farther out. Drumm has developed a guitar analogue to the computer-generated minimalism of Finland’s Mika Vainio (of Panasonic) or Cologne’s Pita and General Magic, exploiting intentional and accidental elements in disturbingly disjointed, highly abstract, chillingly beautiful soundscapes–and erasing the already tenuous line between “real” and “artificial” music.
RIPTONES Extra Sauce (Bloodshot). Mainstays of Chicago’s small rockabilly scene, the Riptones take on country with a swampy fervor that suggests they’re less obsessed with authenticity than most of their ducktailed peers. But though vocalist Jeb Bonansinga can slither effortlessly through a good rocker, his balladry is prosaic at best, and most of the lyrics on the album range from sophomoric (“Crawfish Pie,” one of many paeans to food) to just plain stupid (a rant about biker-poseurs called “Motorcycle Man”).
