Franco Rossino, Jonathan Personne, Verry Gerry, and Volunteers
Franco Rossino - Franco Rossino #1
Franco Rossino’s album, #1, is 9 songs of infectious folk-punk.
Franco delivers awesome anti-anthems in a blasé monotone borne of uninspired and apathetic environments. There is an evenness to his delivery, like a copy printer that can’t be turned off, and keeps churning out line after line of nagging ear-worms that chastise and delight. The songs are driven by intricate and off-kilter acoustic guitar pluckery that strikes a balance between discordant and melodic, combining the slow head nod of Inbreds with the jitteriness of Violent Femmes.
At moments one wonders if it is Rossino himself who is the target of some of these acerbic darts. “We all know you’re a radical, so passionate, emphatic, oh, you might as well be preaching from a stage then,” he sardonically sings on ’30-50 feral hogs.’
Well I sure as hell hope so!
Jonathan Personne - Nouveau Monde
Jonathan Personne’s new album, Nouveau Monde, charges out of the gate at a sprint, but then settles into a contemplative slumber, engulfed in a sleepy cocoon, seemingly unaware, unbothered, untethered by the crude elements that drove it there in the first place.
Johnathan’s voice is tender and tremulous; there is languid longing to it, a frail plea to be left alone to pursue gentle delights. Prolonged and sustained bursts of warmth emanate as it drifts along in a melancholic daydream. The occasional Nils Cline via Wilco influence keeps the tunes in motion and free of snags, helps them along and keeps them from disintegrating altogether.
It’s as though these songs were made to protect the listener from the coarse terrain of the nouveau monde. In my neck of the woods, this is a good thing.
Very Gerry - Sunny Beaches
Very Gerry’s Sunny Beaches sparkles and bops with fresh optimism and vivacity.
These George Harrison-esque pop gems shimmer and glimmer like afternoon sun on rippling waves and bubble up like sea foam that froths along a fine stretch of sand. The songs soar and dive like gulls upon a scuttling crab with a french fry in its claw. There is a playfulness and a frolic in his voice as he sings “Don’t let your dreams be dreams for the time being/if you believe what you see, let the stars set the scene.”
A perfect pairing for an exploratory romp-about on a Sunny Beach.
Volunteers - Compost
With a twang similar to hippie-country forebears Parsons/Romano, Volunteers frontman Liam McIvor ruminates wearily on the state of decay, straight from the trash heap. You can smell the earth in these songs, the mould and the rot. At times somber, sometimes tender and sometimes erupting into a joyous cacophonous hoopla, these songs feel like an ode to becoming worm food, a reckoning that we all must face eventually. Kudos to Volunteers for hopping into the compost bin and giving us a sample.
- JD Ormond