Cracker Albums (9)
'Sunrise in the Land of Milk and Honey'
Release Date 5/5/2009
Tracks 11
Label 429
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Of all the bands that enjoyed a flirtation with fame and fortune during the alternative rock boom of the 1990s, few success stories seemed more of a fluke than Cracker. While David Lowery and Johnny Hickman were (and are) talented songwriters and the band could play tight, accessible rock & roll in a manner that startled many fans of Lowery's earlier band Camper Van Beethoven, it was clear from the outset that Cracker were only willing to set aside a certain number of their eccentricities in favor of a shot at the big time, and the longer they went on, the loopier their music became, which pleased the hardcore fans who appreciated their off-kilter humor and musical eclecticism but ensured that albums like Forever and Countrysides would never spawn a hit like "I Hate My Generation" or "Low." Now that 17 years have elapsed following the release of their first album and with the band safely removed from the intrusive eyes of the major labels, Cracker's ninth studio album, Sunrise in the Land of Milk and Honey, is as engaging and enjoyable as anything they have released since Kerosene Hat in 1993. Though the feel of the material is loose and easygoing, this edition of Cracker -- Lowery and Hickman on guitars and keyboards, Sal Maida on bass, and Frank Funaro on drums -- plays with an efficiency and force that make the ambling, beer-soaked country of "Friends" work just as well as the straight-ahead '70s-style hard rock of "We All Shine a Light" and the L.A. punk gestures of "Hand Me My Inhaler" (which borrows an obvious riff from X's "Los Angeles") and "Time Machine" (whose lyrics mention listening to Black Flag cassettes before opining "I think I liked 'em better with Dez Cadena"). But just when "Darling One" and "Turn on, Tune in, Drop Out with Me" have you convinced that Cracker have made an album for the masses again, Sunrise in the Land of Milk and Honey throws in tunes like "Yalla Yalla (Let's Go)" (which is overrun with wink-and-nudge phallic references), "Show Me How This Thing Works" (in which Lowery is befuddled by some nameless gadget from outer space), and the title tune (one of several vaguely apocalyptic messages that dot the album), and you realize that Cracker are as slyly weird as ever. Cracker are better than they've ever been at honoring both the straight and the twisted sides of their musical personality, and Sunrise in the Land of Milk and Honey balances them with an acrobatic skill that's impressive and a lot of fun to hear. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Cracker's Greenland never specifically references that isolated island in the North Atlantic, but there's an aura of loneliness coursing through even its brightest songs that is perfectly in keeping with the record's namesake. Listening to Greenland is like booking passage into David Lowery's past, with ports of call in his old northern California Camper Van Beethoven stomping grounds, the British Isles, Spain, India, Morocco, and even Jamaica. Greenland is quite a trip, in other words, and Cracker's strongest record since their early-'90s high point, Kerosene Hat -- the antiquey cover art even seems culled from the same vintage thrift-store bins that provided Kerosene Hat's artwork. "Something You Ain't Got" opens Greenland with organ swells, barroom piano, High Plains lap steel, and guest harmonies from Caitlin Cary -- it's a reminder that Lowery has always excelled at these elegiac country-rockers. "Where Have Those Days Gone" is a propulsive road song that picks up momentum as it runs through Lowery's past. Lauren Hoffman's harmonies and B-3 make the choruses soar, and a memorable bridge contrasting cascading piano with Victor Krummenacher's high-octave basslines leads the song to the same resigned but redeemed destination as the cheekier "I Need Better Friends." The record's gentlest laments, "Fluffy Lucy" and "Night Falls," sound like outtakes from Sparklehorse's It's a Wonderful Life, which is not surprising since Lowery's occasional collaborator Mark Linkous plays on and co-produces both. The record takes a more exotic turn with the tabla-and-sitar feel that infuses the brief "I'm So Glad She Ain't Never Coming Back," which is what a country weeper written in New Delhi might sound like. Greenland's centerpiece is "Sidi Ifni," a trance-inducing half-raga/half-blues with an epic widescreen feel courtesy of thick organ swirls, acres of reverb guitar, and a blissfully disorienting crescendo midway through. Lowery wanders on a six-minute journey through the empty alleys, deserted souks, and abandoned consulates of a crumbling seaside town that was the last outpost of the Spanish before Moroccan independence. Images of "lethargy, decay, and forgotten loves" match the song's hypnotic downward pull, and the closing stanza ranks with Lowery's finest writing. "I drink gin with the old expats/We are broken things/From a broken past/And it comes near/But just out of grasp/The alchemist words/That would bring her back." Taken together, the imagery and hallucinatory sonics would make "Sidi Ifni" the perfect soundtrack for one of Paul Bowles' sinister North African stories. But the audio passage to foreign locales doesn't end there. Another of Greenland's many pleasant surprises is "Better Times Are Coming Our Way," a slice of syncopated white-boy reggae with infectious dub echoes not heard since Joe Strummer retired to the great reggae hall in the sky. Yet even when Cracker indulge their hard rock inclinations -- which is where their previous records often suffered -- Greenland's rockers benefit from well-placed, similarly exotic accents and/or dynamic shifts. "Riverside" has enough of these -- staccato acoustic strums, keening Casio -- to keep the song interesting; "Minotaur" alternates between spacy blues and choruses built on stampeding riffs; and "Gimme One More Chance" pulses with menace and leads to a towering Johnny Hickman solo. Even what normally might constitute a silly throwaway, like the penultimate "Everybody Gets One for Free," is a Stonesy rocker with Billy Preston-like organ that bristles with energy and features Lowery's Dr. Seuss/nonsense lyrics, "I was driving in my car/It was filled up with yams/For no obvious reason/That's just who I am." By the time the country-tinged disc-ender "Darling We're Out of Time" runs its mournful course, there's a sense that Cracker have delivered their most honest and emotionally compelling record, and quite possibly their best. ~ John Schacht, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Now that they're no longer on a major label, Cracker can indulge themselves. For some bands, this could be a problem, but a band as irreverent as Cracker can benefit from a little room to move, since that means they can toss off an album like Countrysides without having to justify why they're doing a collection of sloppy, rowdy country covers, or having to make excuses that it's something more than just a fun record. Because that's what Countrysides is -- a simple collection of eight raucous covers of the band's favorite country tunes, with the rowdy, vulgar anti-Virgin Records story-song "Ain't Gonna Suck Itself" acting as the grand finale. This is honky tonk played by a bunch of drunk wiseasses. Sometimes, the smirk is a little too heavy, but usually the band is having such a good time it's easy to give in and join the festivities. Only Merle Haggard's "The Bottle Let Me Down" and Ray Wylie Hubbard's "Up Against the Wall Redneck Mother" (and possibly Hank Williams, Jr.'s "Family Tradition") are well-known; the rest are favorite album tracks from outlaws and alt-country singers, and they're all given the same appealingly shambolic treatment. While it's true that this is ultimately just a covers album -- even though "Ain't Gonna Suck Itself" is a really good vindictive joke and one of David Lowery's best recent songs -- it is also true that it's more flat-out fun than anything Cracker has done in nearly ten years. And frankly, that's a welcome change -- if they can keep this spirit on an album of originals, they'd have a hell of a record on their hands. With this, they just have a hell of a good time, and that's more than enough. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Forever is a minor comeback for the men and women in Cracker. They might have reached their commercial peak in the early '90s, but Cracker works hard to re-establish their credibility after two decent but spotty albums. As on their previous full-length, 1998's Gentleman's Blues, they concentrate less on the post-punk barnburners of their first three records and settle into a more grounded approach. Johnny Hickman and David Lowery are still the main focus of the band, and their chemistry has developed into a nice combination of '70s power pop and modern roots rock. This works to their favor on several occasions, as Lowery's deadpan delivery and obscure lyrics can be hard to comprehend when buried under a tense, fast-paced song. There are a significant amount of memorable, high-quality tracks from this album, something that does not always hold true for this duo. The opening "Brides of Neptune" is a gorgeous track that features the best Lowery nonsense lyrics since 1994's Kerosene Hat and music that could have been taken right off of a mid-'80s Church album. "Don't Bring Us Down" is a homegrown folk rocker that feels like Elvis Costello recast as a cynical Southerner; elsewhere Hickman takes the microphone for the sweeping psychedelic rave-up "Superfan." And "Shameless" employs a memorable Hickman guitar part and some beautiful gospel-style background vocals to achieve one of the grooviest songs of their career. Their stab at the country-rap genre, "What You're Missing," is a funny (if overlong) stab at Detroit DJ turned balladeer Uncle Kracker that even lets drummer Frank Funaro and bassist Brandy Wood each rap a verse. One of the most endearing features of Cracker's output is their constant references to their other material. Lowery and Hickman use many of the same characters and phrases as the basis for their songs, giving their catalog a familiar and engaging feel. This album is no different, making references to songs from all over their career, even other songs on this album. This album rewards fans with little touches like that and it is such a minor detail that it won't alienate new listeners. There are definitely some slow moments here, as certain tracks start strong but wear out their welcome as they go along. But this is a noticeable improvement over their material from the second half of the '90s, and marks a return to quality without resorting to rehashing old ideas. ~ Bradley Torreano, All Music Guide
'Hello, Cleveland! Live From the Metro'
Release Date 1/1/2002
Tracks 15
Label Cooking Vinyl
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Despite its title, this disc was recorded in Chicago in November of 1999, and was originally available as a limited-edition bonus disc accompanying Cracker's 2002 Forever album. Reissued as its own entity, and including four music videos of Forever tracks like "Guarded by Monkeys" and Shine" among others, the disc captures the band in top form on their radio anthems "Teen Angst" and "Low." While the latter highlights the fluid guitar riffing of Johnny Hickman, frontman David Lowery shines on the emotive ballad "The Big Dipper" -- culled from 1996's The Golden Age. If the crowd-pleasing cover of Status Quo's "Pictures of Matchstick Men," (popularized by Lowery's other band, Camper Van Beethoven), seems like an ill fit here, Hello, Cleveland! Live From the Metro captures a strong band tearing through an equally muscular set. ~ John D. Luerssen, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Cracker's third album, The Golden Age, was uneven, but it also suffered from bad timing: when it was released in the spring of 1996, the bottom had just fallen out of alternative guitar rock, and Cracker was left without the large audience that made their first two albums hits. Realizing this conundrum, and approaching middle age, frontman David Lowery decided to stop trying to score modern rock hits and simply play for Cracker's fourth album, Gentleman's Blues. Picking up musical cues from Kerosene Hat and the quieter moments of The Golden Age, Lowery and his partner, Johnny Hickman, fall back to their beloved '70s album rock, mixing up blues-rock, hard rock, Southern rock, and Dead-like jams. Apart from Lowery's characteristically quirky, absurdist lyrics, Gentleman's Blues sounds as if it could have been recorded in the early '70s. It does sound as if they no longer care about being contemporary, but their easy charm and shambling delivery are so appealing, it doesn't matter if the album is indeed a retreat. Beneath the surface, however, there's a certain weariness unheard of in earlier Cracker albums. Many of Lowery's songs, such as "Seven Days," have a bitterness that's barely masked by his irony and songcraft. It may be a shock to discover those sentiments lurking behind these appealing songs, but that's what makes Gentleman's Blues worth repeated listens. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Kerosene Hat, Cracker's second album, was an unexpected hit because of its off-kilter charm. Though Cracker rocked hard throughout the record, they also threw in fractured pop and country tunes that gave the album a broader appeal. The band's follow-up album, The Golden Age, tries to expand on that appeal by burying the weirdness inherent in David Lowery's songwriting with loud, grungy guitars and a more streamlined production. The change is evident from the record's leadoff track, "I Hate My Generation." With its pounding rhythms and grunge-drenched guitars, it may have been intended as a parody of '90s Generation-X angst, but the riffs and melodies are so slight that it fails embarrassingly. In fact, most of the louder numbers on The Golden Age are forced and underdeveloped. What saves the record is when Cracker turn the volume down, whether it's the country rock of the title track, the goofy pop of "How Can I Live Without You," or the dusty psychedelia of "Bicycle Spaniard." Once you dig past the surface of the loud guitars, it becomes apparent that there's an abundance of quiet gems scattered throughout The Golden Age, and that is what makes the album worthwhile listening. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
With their second album Cracker have lost the smarmy self-righteousness that plagued their otherwise fine debut, replacing it with a surprisingly solid, rocking core. Kerosene Hat is David Lowery's least affected album yet -- its humor is no stranger than "Dead Flowers" by the Stones or "Fat Man in a Bathtub" by Little Feat, two groups that Cracker strongly recall throughout the album. Kerosene Hat is more blues- and country-based than their debut, but it sounds natural, since their songwriting has improved and they've grown tighter as a unit. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Apart from David Lowery's tendency to slip in some smug, self-serving lyrics, Cracker's debut is a terrific rock & roll record, full of energetic three-chord bashers and surprisingly moving ballads. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
