SEAN CROGHAN
From Burnt Orange to Midnight Blue
(In Music We Trust)
***

I get nervous whenever I realize Sean Croghan has been quiet for a while. Though only in his 30s, Croghan is an elder statesman of the Northwest music scene, and his influential talent--evident in his early-'90s punk band Crackerbash, the power-pop explosion Jr. High, and even the infamous and short-lived Moustache--is the kind that threatens to disappear as loudly and profoundly as it existed. Croghan fans like me, who no longer live in Portland and don't get to see the lovably cranky singer's music thriving, fear it might just roll up and disappear someday, and in its place will assemble a hundred lesser pretenders. Croghan sings honestly and un-self-consciously. His voice cracks and his falsettos don't always work, but his lyrics are deadeye and accessible, stunning in their bald simplicity. In Croghan's songs, girls don't love him because they're happier dating assholes. But Croghan knows that's no reason to quit trying. Members of the Minders and No. 2 lend hands musically, but it's the singer's impassioned vocals--to see him perform live is to truly understand "impassioned"--and good-natured grumpiness that lends such texture and weight to his beautifully candid songwriting. KATHLEEN WILSON

REBECCA GATES
Ruby Series
(Badman Records)
**

With the seething crackle and explosive drums of "Noah Jonah and Me," from 1993's Manos, the Spinanes announced itself as a Northwest band to be reckoned with. Singer Rebecca Gates had a deadpan delivery that perfectly counterpointed the loud, spare fury of her guitar and Scott Plouf's thundering drums. They ran with ragged intelligence across the length of the album, showing the possibilities in the minimalist approach. The follow-up, Strand, expanded the band's sound with added instrumentation while keeping the sparse production and arrangements in place. Following Plouf's 1996 departure, Gates relocated to Chicago and hooked up with post-rock mainstays Sam Prekop of the Sea and Cake and John McEntire of Tortoise. Gates recorded 1998's Arches & Aisles with them under the Spinanes moniker. In a dramatic departure from earlier albums, Arches & Aisles percolated with triphop beats and R&B-infused rhythms. Gates' voice loosened up with an insinuating purr that belied her barbed lyrics. On her seven-song, debut solo EP, Ruby Series, she sounds even more silky-voiced, but the edges have been rounded off for a sound that favors tasteful, slow-to-mid-tempo numbers. Opening with piano ballad "The Seldom Scene," Gates' voice lilts and lounges. The songs drift by with multi-tracked, overlapping vocals that lack the whip-smart sensuality of Arches & Aisles, burbling with folktronica that is mostly forgettable. "Lure and Cast" and "In a Star Orbit" sound like Ben Watt throwaways. Only "Move" and the last song, "I Received a Levitation," display Gates' usual mix of incisive lyrical and musical charm. NATE LIPPENS

DJ HI-TEK
Hi-Teknology
(Rawkus)
**

The beats and turntablism of some DJs can stand alone as a pure set without the performance of an MC. Other DJs need an MC--indeed, the quality of their work is determined by the direction the MCs want to go, the things they want to say and hear in their music. In this respect, the DJ functions much like a DP (a cinematographer) in a film production, shooting this and that for the director. Hi-Tek is a DJ of this order. His work can't stand alone, nor can it be the pure product of his will or vision. This is why his best work is made under the leadership of intelligent MCs like Mos Def and Common, and his weaker efforts are the product of his own direction, as is the case with his new CD, Hi-Teknology. The CD can only be described as a kind of lazy or incomplete arrangement of beat-concepts, some of which are almost great, like "Breakin' Bread," while others are weak interpretations of the bubble aesthetics mastered by Slum Village's DJ, Jay Dee, like "All I Need Is You." Though the CD is worth buying, it must not be viewed as an end to his art, but simply an extravagant supplement to the honest work he has done for Black Star and Mos Def. CHARLES MUDEDE

BRIAN SETZER '68 COMEBACK SPECIAL
Ignition!
(Surfdog Records)
**1/2

In the early '80s the Stray Cats were damned alluring with their youthful faith in rockabilly and pompadour hair, their Fluevogs and cigarettes. In a musical landscape populated by the Cure and Human League, Brian Setzer was a crooner in a back-to-basics band that ably, ironically competed in the all-important MTV visual format. Brian Setzer sang mythic road sagas about cars and girls. And he still does, only this time there is nothing fresh or alluring about it. After his very successful stint with the Brian Setzer Orchestra, an incarnation that blatantly cashed in on the popularity of a national swing craze, Setzer is back as rockabilly stalwart. On "'59," Setzer proudly declares, "Everything I love is from '59. I guess that means I'm behind the times." So yeah, tattoos, pomade, and hot-rod girls once again define Setzer's world, but the only interesting song on the album is the last--an instrumental with warbling Spanish guitar called "Malagueña." Setzer could always play guitar, and he'd be a great Bumbershoot act, but that doesn't mean there's anything new about his new album. PETER BUCHBERGER