Rye

The Roxy, 3.27.99
Reviewed by Siobhan O'Neill

Death to the publicist overheard saying, "I don't hear your 'Barely Breathing' yet." Death, I tell you. Death. This boy doesn't NEED a "Barely Breathing," what he needs is a "Landslide." In more ways than one. Excuse me, I'm going to go dislodge this rock over here...

From the sorrowful "Overground" to the ominous "Zookeeper," 23-year-old Rye will own you from the word Go. At first glance, the neophyte's thoughts are audible: "Gee, he's cute, but can he make art? Can he avoid the Gavin Rossdale rap sheet?" And then he will open his mouth, and your cheap musings will be forever banished from your mind. Rich, layered, complex vocals against a crunchy, fleshed-out sound bring an introspective, sensitive, wise-beyond-its-years set to life.

Rye performs with a competent, well-intentioned, if personality-free group of what appear to be studio musicians. Clearly, Rye the guitarist, singer, and lyricist has a vision and being in a band, where the creative needs and wants of other members must be met, is probably a daunting prospect. I wonder, however, if a group couldn't be found that adds dimension to an astonishingly well-developed artist-audience rapport for a performer so young.

Lyrically, I'm a little overwhelmed. There are a few requisite borderline-cheesy two-liners, mostly resulting from an apparent drive to rhyme each line (Sample: "Make me high/I wanna fly") but then Silly Games (unfortunate title) knocks: "In a world of lunacy that keeps up all in therapy/you've got to hide beneath the rug/to get away..." Everyone, it seems, including our hero, has been touched by the specter of drugs, as in "Crutch," and the little voices; "Zookeeper" reads, "I've got all these little monsters in my head/and demons are awake in my bed/perhaps I'll fire the zookeeper instead/let the monsters go free/free me, free me..."

Please, Jesus, do NOT put this boy on the road with the likes of Bijou Phillips. He's too old for that circuit. No, I take that back. He's too good for that. I don't want him to be the next Duncan Sheik. I want him to be the next whatever-it-was that Jeff Buckley should have been, and YES, he's almost there. Give it a year or two. I want him to take his cues from people like Tom Petty, or hell, even David Bowie. Always ahead of the curve, always changing just before the times do, but not so far off to the left that he loses us all on the way around the corner. The artist who is still evolving and writing music that everyone can relate to and love, not just teenagers. Teenagers grow up. Then they start looking for music by someone who doesn't get on their nerves and sings about things they can feel and relate to. This is why Fleetwood Mac is still winning Grammys and people as diverse as left-of-center little ole me and my right-wing uncle are buying their records in the same week. Hm. *runs back to the rock, scratches around* Is that a rumble I hear?