Calamateur vs.
Steve Lawson
Calamateur
Tiny Pushes Vol.2
Calamateur
The Old Fox of '45
The Gena Rowlands Band
La Merde et les Etoiles
V/A
Deep Peace
The Out_Circuit
Burn Your Scripts, Boys
Calamateur
Son of Everyone EP
Calamateur
Tiny Pushes Vol.1
The Gena Rowlands Band
(trailer) EP
Oldsolar
The Perfect Backswing EP
La
Merde et les Etoiles
by The Gena Rowlands Band (clave007)
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Released January 25th 2005
A co-release with Lujo Records.
The Gena Rowlands Band plays songs about b-movie starlets, x-movie starlets, ex-movie starlets, Academy Award Winning Actresses, people born in the wrong skin, blonde strangers, convenience stores, bad parties, the Eisenhower Interstate system, and Kong’s words with Jesus in the aftermath of a rough first date. It’s late-night music. (Have a smooth beverage.)
"
beautifully dissonant; unsettling and enrapturing in equal measures, it
demands attention"
- Splendid Magazine
"Fans of Nick Cave or American Music Club will feel right at home...deserving
of multiple spins"
- The Phill(er)
" a stunner, but a bummer"
- Miami New Times
"Soulful, intelligent, eclectic"
- Pipe Dream
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1. Garofalo,
C'est Moi
2. Tom Shroder's Blues
3. Kong Meets His Maker (A Parable About Dating)
4. Seceding from Our Union
5. Intro
6. Pilot for a Situation Tragedy
7. Outro
8. East @ the 7-11
9. Power, Lies, Helena's Lips
10. Traci's Big Screen Test
11. Last Words of Lesley Gore
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Reviews
in full:
"On their debut 11 song album the Gena Rowlands Band plays songs
about B-movie starlets, X-movie starlets, people born in the wrong skin,
blonde strangers, convenience stores, bad parties and Kong’s words
with Jesus in the aftermath of a rough first date. It’s late-night
music: lush strings, arresting vocals and intense arrangements take these
finely crafted songs into new sonic territory. But the deceptive beauty
of these tunes can’t hide the dangerous ideas in Bob Massey’s
lyrics. Fans of Nick Cave or American Music Club will feel right at home.
Named for the widow of John Cassavetes, The Gena Rowlands Band's name
is just the beginning of a slew of film and entertainment references demonstrated
by titles such as "Garofalo, C'est Moi", "Traci's Big Screen
Test", and "The Last Words of Lesley Gore". Though The
Gena Rowlands Band's Bob Massey utilizes many pop culture references throughout
the album, the album is far from a pop affair. La Merde et Les Etoiles's
arrangements are sparse and present a distance mirrored by the lyrical
content. Massey's voice often acts as the sole human element in an empty
world accented by cello and violin. While the unconventional instrumentation
of the compositions accurately exhibits the overall feeling of the album,
only carefully listening to Massey's lyrics can it be realized how the
entertainment references act as a foil to a depressing reality with lines
expressing that "love is only in the movies" and that "all
my favorite movie stars don't really exist". While the experimental
arrangements make La Merde et Les Etoiles a worth listen, it is the lyrical
depth that make it deserving of multiple spins."
- the phill(er)
"Nope,
this isn't another movie starlet looking to validate her questionable
musical ability. Rowlands is billed but not involved, merely name-dropped
alongside actress Janeane Garofalo ("Garofalo, C'est Moi"),
singer Lesley Gore ("The Last Words of Lesley Gore" and even
winemaker Ernest Gallo ("Easter @ the 7-11") by the band's true
mastermind, Bob Massey. With his doleful ramblings, supple fretwork, and
lounge-like keyboards, La Merde et Les Etoiles is a murky, bare-bones
affair which takes its title -- French for "the shit and the stars"
-- literally. Between the cinematic references and Massey's self-effacing
melancholia ("I was an optimist/Now I'm a third-rate lyricist"),
it provides lingering reflections of loners and losers inhabiting aimless
weekends, haunted by boredom and despair. The result: a stunner, but a
bummer."
- Miami New times
"In
a play, every mood is carefully orchestrated, each step meticulously considered,
and every role vitally important. Of course, someone always emerges as
the "star", even if other, equally deserving contributors are
ignored. If ...La Merde et Les Etoiles (if high school French serves,
"The Shit and the Stars") were a play, singer/songwriter Bob
Massey would be the star, and his lyrics his character. As in any play,
it would be foolish to forget or downplay the importance of the supporting
characters. Although few of them are on stage for any amount of time,
each makes a mark with an interesting interpretation of the given role.
Luther Gray's drums skulk like Shakespeare's Shylock, Johanna Claasen's
bass anchors the set with spare decoration, and the rest of the players
appear like a Greek chorus -- sometimes providing soft uplift, but more
often than not supporting the stark and downtempo mood. Like the best
of Black Heart Procession, Nick Cave and Red House Painters, this music
is subtly unsettling, deeper and darker than its simple elements suggest.
"Garofalo, C'est Moi" is Massey and guitar for half its length,
his smarmily sardonic voice flitting gently over short runs and lightly
strummed chords. While your attention is focused on his voice and lyrics,
the rest of the players do their work: they move roughshod over the music,
never making an integrated piece, filling the space with burrs and sharp
edges. Their entrance heralds "Tom Shroder's Blues"; like orchestral
movements, the songs slide into each other. The darkness continues; the
feeling of emptiness pervades even the busiest sections. "Kong Meets
His Maker (A Parable About Dating)" is a scene change. The backing
strings and drums become slightly more schizophrenic, creating a claustrophobic
atmosphere for Massey's lyrics, which seem to be about King Kong, Jesus
and first dates: "The king of Jews / Watched as the king of a different
jungle / passed from a strange world / and he heard his monkey say: /
I never did dream in all my years all in the jungle / that beauty and
wonder could be this close to me / my world was a finer place 'cause she
was in it / the empire state was not too high to climb for love."
...La Merde et Les Etoiles is beautifully dissonant; unsettling and enrapturing
in equal measures, it demands attention even as it pushes you away. It
may not explain everything in its final act, but stay and listen anyway:
the actors deserve more than an empty theater when they take their curtain
call."
- Splendid Magazine
"Singer-guitarist
Bob Massey, the voice of the Gena Rowlands Band, once started a local
musical salon called Punk Not Rock, a phrase that begins to explain his
vision. The 11 movie-struck compositions on "La Merde et Les Etoiles"
-- several of them reprised from a 2002 EP -- are definitely not rock.
Spare and slightly jazzy, but with occasional lush details, these are
art songs with a hint of punk attitude. After all, only a maverick could
write a tune about Helena Bonham Carter's lips, and then talk-sing it
as if he were the District's answer to Edith Piaf. "Power, Lies,
Helena's Lips" contains what may be the songwriter's manifesto: "I
find that I don't believe in beauty anymore / I realize that ugly is more
true." Massey's music isn't ugly, but it does forgo most of pop's
prettier aspects; anyone waiting for a catchy refrain will be disappointed.
Such numbers as "The Last Words of Lesley Gore" are loping and
conversational, keyed to Massey's intimate lyrics and delivery. There
are lovely moments throughout the album, but not obvious payoffs or crowd-pleasing
climaxes. Contemporary Hollywood wouldn't get "La Merde et Les Etoiles"
at all."
- The Washington Post
"There’s
something to be said for the innovative energy expressed by The Gena Rowlands
Band on its upcoming release, La Merde et Les Etoiles. It’s not that
the band’s unusual sound hasn’t been mastered before; artists
ranging from Radiohead to The Smashing Pumpkins have ventured numerous
times into the strange and mystical sounds like those presented on this
album. But few others have successfully pulled off as unusual an album
as this debut, which combines rangy vocal sincerity with an orchestrated
backdrop that will send chills down the spine of the listener. Frontman
and lead guitarist Bob Massey is the whole show on the album. Most of
the tunes on this 11-track disc are backed by a string quartet that formally
introduces Massey’s delicate guitar and downtrodden vocals with lyrics
that purr. Each of the songs on the 16-minute disc deals with a selected
topic of pop culture, such as obsession with celebrities in the tabloids
and prejudice, and Massey presents these issues to the listener in a clear
and precise format. “Garofalo, C’est Moi” is a richly layered
tune that speaks of the singer’s longtime love for actress Jeneanne
Garofalo, and “Seceding From Our Union” is Massey’s somber
rendition of the “Star-Spangled Banner.” But the background
accompaniment is so melodically steady that the listener never sees one
song fading and another coming that allows for the overall presentation
to work better as a whole than a series of individual numbers."
- Vox Magazine
"Soulful,
intelligent, eclectic – these are only a few of the words that can
be used to describe The Gena Rowlands Band’s debut album, La Merde
et Les Etoiles (English translation: the shit and the stars). The blend
of folk, jazz, and indie elements lend versatility to the quartet’s
arrangements. With six featured musicians, each with their own instrument(s),
the wide range is not surprising. Lyricist and musician Bob Massey provides
vocals for each song, infusing the words with a sense of despair and pain
over the contradictions of life’s monotony and surreal beauty. From
declaring that “I finally found what love is / love is only in the
movies” to “On Halloween, we go to hell / and on Easter, we
go to heaven,” Massey’s exposition bites the listener, refusing
to let go. The instruments, ranging from a viola to an udu (a Nigerian
drum), are as important to the story than the lyrics, directing the emotions
of the listener, but the words do indeed dominate. Regular references
to 20th century cultural and cinematic figures (e.g. John Cassavetes-Rowlands’
husband, Ernest Gallo, and Janeane Garofalo) may make the average listener
feel somewhat neglected, but their presence adds to the album’s aura
of self-reflection. The reduction of Massey’s voice to barely a whisper,
as in “Power, Lies, Helena’s Lips,” seems unnecessary and
may irritate those who prefer not to blast the stereo. The inspired combination
of classical instruments and mellow introspection makes for a welcome
change from recent releases. The melancholy sentiment is relatable, but
after a few tracks, you just want to tell the voice to move on. Best for
late night philosophizing or intoxication, La Merde et Les Etoiles exists
on an entirely different plane, somewhere between life’s shit and
the distant stars."
- Pipe Dream
"Thirty
seconds in, you may think you can see where this album is headed, with
Bob Massey crooning "I finally found what love is/ Love is only in
the movies" like Mark Eitzel after finding out his puppy died over
the saddest guitar chords known to man. But then, you hit the string-fueled
chorus and the twisted comic genius of The Gena Rowlands Band emerges.
"Ahh, Garofalo," he sighs. "Ahh, sweet Janeane/ Surely,
you must be the only one/ Oh, how I crave you/ How I think of you all
day/ How I can't wait to rush home to your charms." And with that,
he returns to the opening verse, only now it's a song of redemption and
healing. For a moment, anyhow, until he starts resenting Spielberg and
profanely crying out for Hollywood to burn. You might expect a band that
namechecks "St. John Cassavetes" in song while taking its name
from his wife to be a bunch of dorky film geeks. And they are. As luck
would have it. In "Kong Meets His Maker (A Parable About Dating),"
Patton places The King of the Jews at the site of another King's death,
where a bystander notes "It was beauty that killed him" and
Kong himself tells his Maker, "The Empire State was not too high
to climb for love." And what would Jesus do? He tells his fallen
ape, "If you'd known she is not the only blonde girl on the planet/
I know you'd still do the same thing that you've done." It's tragic,
hilarious, brilliant writing, and there's plenty more where that came
from before he signs off crying at his own damn party (if he wants to)
on "The Last Words of Lesley Gore," unbothered by the fact that
Gore is still alive. "Hell, I was an optimist," he sighs at
one point. "Now, I'm a third-rate lyricist." But as you know,
no third-rate lyricist would write that line. And the music? Melancholy
chamber cabaret with crooning vocals and plenty of atmosphere. 3.5/5."
- Post-Gazette.com
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Oldsolar
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Calamateur
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The
Gena Rowlands Band
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The Out_Circuit
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Steve
Lawson
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