Jesse Malin Albums (4)
'On Your Sleeve'
Release Date 4/7/2008
Tracks 14
Label One Little Indian
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Covers albums are always -- always -- tricky propositions. They've become de rigueur for artists who've been knocking around a while, either as a stopgap, for some press attention, or as a substitute for having new ideas. Usually an artist will make a crucial aesthetic mistake in cutting one of these. While it might lie with either being too liberal with the material, it's far more often either being too conservative with it or, worse, being too ambitious by not being up to the challenge of interpreting a great song. The only really valid criterion for making a covers record these days is this: can you bring something really new to the material you've chosen to record? Songwriter Jesse Malin answers the question with a resounding "yes" on his own covers set, On Your Sleeve. Coming off a very successful album in 2007 with Glitter in the Gutter, cutting a set of other people's songs is a risky move, but this was well worth the effort. The formula, if there is such a thing, is simple: Malin cut songs as a rock fan first. These tracks all hold a special place in Malin's rock & roll pantheon, and he sought to bring to them a fan's heart and a songwriter's skill. He employs his road band in the studio, augmented with friends who don't need sticker recognition on the front cover. In other words, it's the music that counts. The range is breathtaking. The set opens with a shimmering, minor-key country-ish version of the Bad Brains' classic "Leaving Babylon," with ringing hollow-body guitars -- it's a complete melodic reinvention of the song in Malin's own image as a singer and writer. Then there's a skiffle reading of Paul Simon's "Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard" and a version of the Rolling Stones' "Sway" that evokes latter-day Roxy Music, Suicide, and Jagger and Richards all at the same time. And this is only the first three cuts. Other highlights include a U2-esque guitar workout on the Lords of the New Church's "Russian Roulette," a less campy and droll version of Lou Reed's "Walk on the Wild Side," and a tender but rocking read of Neil Young's "Looking for a Love." There are some compelling surprises on the set as well, including a reverent and deeply moving version of Tim Hardin's "Lady from Baltimore" and a barfly with a smile's nocturnal take on Elton John's "Harmony." Add to these a modern yet taut version of Jim Croce's "Operator" and a drum machine and distorted guitar-driven "Hungry Heart" (yes, the Bruce Springsteen hit). Of course, Malin's great antihero and muse Johnny Thunders has to be here, and he is in a brief but ghostly arrangement of "It's Not Enough." There is an overly sentimental version of Shane MacGowan's "Fairytale of New York," with Bree Sharp in duet. The set closes with the late Fred Neil's "Everybody's Talking," in a version that is as much a tribute to Harry Nilsson (who scored big with it) as the single from the Midnight Cowboy soundtrack. Malin is so obviously enthralled with this material that he's literally given it everything he has -- which, in his case, is plenty -- and that translates to the listener in spades. Whether or not you can get with Malin's other records is immaterial; this one should be embraced by anyone who loves rock & roll. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
'Glitter in the Gutter'
Release Date 2/26/2007
Tracks 13
Label Adeline
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
It took three albums, but Jesse Malin's finally made it. What does that mean? It means that he's finally assembled the record he's been trying to put together since his debut (which was a good record). Glitter in the Gutter is a fully realized collection of solidly crafted pop/rock songs that are as lyrically substantive and poetic as the music that goes with them. Produced by Rob Caggiano and Eddie Wohl for Adeline Records, Malin is the epitome of the street rocker with a poet's heart. Rolling in California, for the first time on a record -- and for the first time above 14th Street in New York City -- Malin recruited old pal Ryan Adams to play guitar on a couple of cuts, Jakob Dylan to sing a backing vocal, and some guy named Bruce Springsteen to help him sing a duet on killer little ballad called "Broken Radio" complete with strings. This cut is the proof, though the record is filled with it, that Malin has become one of those fine rock & roll storytellers who has equal parts melodrama, hedonism, poetry, swagger and timing. The story of a former lover, someone hidden from the view of the protagonist, as Adams' guitars entwine with a piano and strings and ambient sounds, the tempo is slow and Malin's croon sounds like a man on the fire escape reminiscing to the night sky: "She used to talk about astrology/She was born in June/She danced with strangers and celebrities/Empty stars and full moon/I was thinking about the universe/For what it's worth/Or the one about the phoenix bird/That died and then returned." He jumps right back with the wild rocker "Prisoners of Paradise" and evokes all the desperation of the bleary-eyed romantics in the young Springsteen with the soul of Willy DeVille and the savvy wisdom of Elliott Murphy and is louder and prouder than all three. "Black Haired Girl" is another city story, it's all blazing guitars and sweet melodies. There's a wild vulnerability in the singer though he's trying hard to be in control. "Lucinda," well, we know who that one's about. There are a few songs on her album West about Malin, too. But Malin doesn't have to wait until the middle of the record to shine. He does it from the first cut, when he leaves the country-ish tinge present on his earlier records for good. The ringing guitars on "Don't Let Them Take You Down" become a lone acoustic that gives way to a cracking snare and big ringing electrics courtesy of Lizzy Lee Vincent and Justin Lomery: "We were born in flames, maiden names/Suburban homes, make your bones/Bite your lip, take the fifth...And it's my generation and the whole world is breakin my heart." He goes out of it roaring with all the romance rock & roll can promise when it splits reality in two: "Don't let them take you down/It's a beautiful day/Don't let them mess you around." Coming up in the '80s through the hardcore punk scene, Malin's proving that he's matured but that he believes, though he's got no illusions about what's happening all around him. Speaking of the '80s, Malin's got the cojones to cover Paul Westerberg's mighty anthem "Bastards of Young" and turn it into a piano-laden ballad that gives way to screeing feedback guitars that line the background. It's brave but it's a misstep, because with his presence, he might have pulled it off with all the raging six-string power the song is due. It's a minor complaint, perhaps, because that song should never be covered. He shoots right back with a mid-tempo power ballad by updating Heat's "Since You're in Love" with "Happy Ever After (Since You're in Love 2007)." The dramatics are more weatherbeaten this time out, the wish is more a confession of self-doubt and brokenness, but it's tight. "New York Nights" is a fire-escape love song with an acoustic guitar that gives way to the roar of the noise of the singer's heart with a hook nearly worthy of Doc Pomus without the retro vibe. "Aftermath" is pure Malin cine-song. There's a movie in here somewhere, but it's everywhere, falling out of the changes and dripping from the words like blood from a freshly opened vein. He evokes images of rock's greatest moments in a weary urban tragedy that's not willing to throw in the towel just yet. Adams provides gorgeous backing vocals and some keen organ work, too. Glitter in the Gutter is aptly named, because Malin's not posing. There's irony in the reveries and hope in the dustbin. Like Samuel Beckett, he's holding out for the glimmer, even when it's covered over by busted hearts, lost souls, and night roamers who cannot bear to see the sun come up because all the flaws will be laid bare. It's a fine look at what's left of rock & roll's promise: plenty, it seems, and shows the tatters in the seams of the younger generation's American Dream. Malin may not be Bob Dylan or Springsteen, but he doesn't need to be; that was a different time, and he's right on schedule for his own. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
With New York City in his back pocket once again, Jesse Malin continues his serenade to lost loves and forgotten opportunities on his second album, The Heat. He kicks his best buddy, Ryan Adams, out of the production seat to take care of things himself and once more cuts apart his honest heart. Isn't that why most become musicians, to deal with the fear of loss and regret? Their wounded soul becomes their art and a way of dealing with the bad hand they got dealt. It's good therapy for most artists and a cold-water cure for a lot of music fans, but relying on that formula itself doesn't automatically make a great record. The Heat goes through the motions of telling stories and Malin is a charmer with his self-pitying poetics. Songs such as the false sexual gratification of "Arrested," the rompish skip and run of "Mona Lisa," and the haunted political errors of "New World Order" are loaded in affection and raw roots rock. Malin's drag racer-like desire to find some kind of solace with love is even more fierce on "Hotel Columbia," an excellent piano-guitar dalliance that never lets up. But no matter how much The Heat yearns for common ground, Malin's songwriting suffers somewhat. He's skilled and inventive with his work as a musician, but the aches and pains of songs like "Swinging Man" and "God's Lonely People" fall short of what Malin delivered on The Fine Art of Self-Destruction. It's as if he's reaching for something, but uncertain of what he's supposed to be reaching for. That's okay. The Heat is only Malin's second album and shouldn't be categorized as a slump. Sonically, he's progressing into a real cowboy balladeer without dismissing his punk days. The desperation of "Since You're in Love" makes this evident; however, lyrics like "I'm still sad over you" aren't poignant enough. Malin has what it takes to write a really beautiful love song, one full of love's usual blood and guts. Perhaps he's terrified -- like most people are -- of owning up to the fear of losing it or never having it? ~ MacKenzie Wilson, All Music Guide
