Customer Reviews

If You Didn't Laugh You'd Cry

5 star:		(9)
4 star:		(4)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

I saw these guys live last summer and was blown away. I'd already heard "Kids in Philly" and "20,000 Streets," but their live show really pulled me in. I immediately located "Lets Cut the Crap," and anxiously awaited their new disc. "If you couldn't laugh, you'd cry" was worth the wait. If this disc is not on alot of best of lists and Xmas lists this year, well, we're screwed. I mean, look out over the rock and roll wasteland where your success is measured in units and where Rolling Stone magazine is a painted whore of a rag. Sadly, almost no one makes records that matter anymore, (remember the Clash)and it seems that if they do, no one listens. The airwaves are replete with bands that look like they came out of a gap commercials and play the same three chords with studied intensity, albeit while actually looking and sounding emotionally dead. Sadly, America is entirely taken up with this "30-second commercial" version of rock and roll. There aren't many who seem to be able to really connect the rock and roll dots from Jimmie Rogers to Hank Williams, Muddy Waters to the Rolling Stones, Blind Willie McTell to Bob Dylan. There are too many bands that try to be derivative of something, but they don't have what every great rock and roll band has -- honesty, sincerity, hope and desparation -- all at the same time. Except Marah. If you're looking for answers, at least this band asks the right questions. They've laid it on the line here; their hearts are exposed and their souls are stripped naked. Listen to the opening riff of "Demon of White Sadness" and if you don't feel the pull, you've got no soul left to touch. If the muse doesn't touch you and make you smile while listening to "Sooner or Later," then you've been neutered. If you aren't swayed by the emotional courage of "Walt Whitman Bridge," you're just f!@#$d. Give yourself a chance and give these guys a listen. If it turns out that they don't grab you, I guess we're all screwed. Then all there'll be left to do is laugh, grab a beer and wait till Marah comes to town.

I have long been an admirer of Marah's excellent Kids in Philly CD. Now, after repeated listenings, I'm giving this one the nod as this band's best. Focused, reckless, serious & fun all at the same time.

Dylan went back down Highway 61, Marah walked back to an alley in Point Breeze, Philadelphia. It is an apt analogy for their entire fifth album If You Didn't Laugh, You'd Cry. Two white boys still searching for what the hell their beloved city means to them, and vice versa. Trying to find that invisible intersection where Mummers banjos meet Philly soul. Feeling along the Wall of Sound that Spector built, looking for any slight crevice or crack wide enough to let in all those hill songs just across the Mason Dixon line. And of course, there's that echo that started somewheres up in Asbury Park, comin' down the Jersey Shore to tie it all together.
If their quintessential second album, Kids in Philly, is an album so steeped in place that it almost drowns in the river it so frequently references, then IYDLYC is a stone skipped from bank to bank. It stays ever near the source of its material, Philadelphia, and everything that city connotes, but it also leaps up and down pointing towards the other locales that have been instrumental in shaping Marah, both the music and the band. In "The Closer", they make it clear right away they are not remaking KIP, nor are they shedding tears for halcyon days gone by as the narrator does in "East", the opener to 20,000 Streets Under the Sky (Album #4). No, in this song the singer is rambling down a Brooklyn street, drunk on beers, comraderie, and the possibility of seeing, "That girl." This is a song so un-self-conscious, that only a band perfectly comfortable in their own skin could make. This sentiment can honestly be applied to most of the record. From the "no more than three takes" approach to recording this album, to Serge Bielanko's threadbare, precarious vocals being placed front and center on three songs, daring the listener not to frigging love it. This album gambles and wins.
That said, the songs on the new album are not all new territory, but they are most certainly NOT comfortable retreads of old favorites. Every track on the album hangs in the balance. They are steadied and loosely bound by the steel piano of "Sooner or Later" which wends its way in and out of our ears in interludes throughout the record, as does the organ on Walt Whitman Bridge. In counterpoint to Serge's blind man on a high-wire vocal act, David Bielanko, the band's regular vocalist, gives a vocal performance that ranges from the angelic purity of "Out of Tune" to a school-boy spoiling for a tussle on "Fatboy". On "The Hustle", like its ancestor "Point Breeze", the vocal does a dance-like struggle with the syncopated rhythm, but whereas on latter, the singer seems nearly breathless by the end from trying to keep up, at the end of "The Hustle", the singer has clearly won the battle for the song and his senses. "Demon of White Sadness" has elements of the psychedelic lyrics found on Let's Cut the Crap, but a lucidity overtakes it and refuses to, "Dream about going back." Indeed dreams are perilous on this album. See "Dishwasher's Dream," a Dylan-esque riff on scrubbing pots in a restaurant dish tank, which ends with the title character rousting his lover from "The same awful dream," they've been sharing. And the ending refrain of "Demon", "Falling out of favor was my favorite thing," is one of the most confident, anti-nostalgia statements they make on this album. Perhaps the two most impressive cuts could have easily verged into the too cozy territory of past successes. "City of Dreams" could have been drawn out and overly lyricized to make it sound like "Barstool Boys", from KIP, but instead it conjures up Simon and Garfunkel overtones, without the preciousness. "Walt Whitman Bridge" might be the most accessible, but authentic song on the album. It almost sounds like a million other songs. It almost sounds like four other Marah songs. It almost sounds like it's just too damn good. Because there is nothing wrong with this heartbreakingly beautiful song. It's not perfect, but that's the point. There is a flawless Platonic version of this song hovering somewhere in the ether, and if you catch the band on the right night you might just hear it.
There is a command of the personal narrative displayed on this redord that is impressive. Marah has always been spectacular at empathizing with the various characters they portray in their songs. But rarely has the narrator/character been as close to the actual persona of the singer-songwriters as on this album. They may be dishwashers, truck drivers, or workaday Philly schlubs in the songs, but they all seem perfect analogs for the folk-rockers performing the songs. And yet we never feel encumbered or embarrassed by the singer's confession. We never feel sorry for anyone, we only feel like we've been there before.
If You Didn't Laugh You'd Cry has its trouble spots. "Poor People" needs more punch to its lyric to carry it through. "Fatboy" is relatively unintelligible in places and "The Closer" could have benefited from a cleaner mix. And the bedrock banjo jangle that is a motif on their earlier works seems starkly absent at a few points. But perfection was not the point, in fact it would have been anathema to the energy and urgency of this record. If they had spent weeks and months in the studio, this might have turned into Kids in Philly 2, or simply not gotten made at all. This is a new album, a band that's fresh and feisty, but fully aware of the things they are not so good at and the things they are altogether great at. If you stopped listening to Marah, this record says, "Come on back, have a drink." Sooner or later, this record, with its odd familiarity and rich new layers, will compel you to return to an old taproom in South Philly, and Marah will be waiting for you.

Albums this good don't come along every day - or even every year.

We are seeing the evolution of a band here. "Kids in Philly" was a great album for Marah in the same way that "Born to Run" was a great album for Springsteen. It was a burst of instinctive inspiration, everything young guys had dreamt of throwing into a rock and roll record. Springsteen then worked his record to death. I suspect Marah did not do the same.

With this new record, Marah have definitely not done the thing to death. They recorded these tracks in short sessions, 3 takes per song max, 9 days recording they say. What we get from that burst of confidence is a flowing, beautifully paced collection of great songs, with not a hint of filler.

The arrangements refer clearly back to the wonderful clattering clutter of "Kids in Philly", but the tonal separation is better, the placement of the clanging and rattling rhythmn items much more carefully considered, yet still with an instinctive rightness.

Individually, some of these songs are dazzling, and some of the lyrics highly reminiscent of Dylan or Springsteen in their pomp.

"The Dishwasher's Dream" is a wonderful flowing narrative of a dream, pure Zimmerman, but with Marah's personality stamped across it.

The bonus track, "This Time" is propelled by thunderous guitars, probably the closest to pure 6-string power rock that Marah have come.

"Poor People" carries a witty and quite savage lyric along beside a rattling good tune.

I can't really find much to fault with this album. You do need to listen to it a couple of times to get the best from it, mostly because Marah's arrangements are still dense and multi-layered, but my God it's worth the effort.

Sitting listening to this album again, reading along with the CD booklet (long time since I've done that with a record!), reminds me of how LPs used to hit me when I was younger, when rock and roll could still startle you and make your blood run hot and fast.

Fabulous. Great rock and roll from a great and tragically ignored band.

Why aren't they huge? I don't understand ...

After the burning-out-of-the-gates Let's Cut the Crap... and Kids in Philly, the (intentional???) de-mystifier Float Away w/the Friday Night Gods and return to form 20,000 Streets Under the City, Marah's If You Didn't Laugh You'd Cry safely returns the brothers Bielanko & Co. to the rightful wearers of rock and roll's crown (at least until the Drams album gets released next year).

Drawing on influences as disparate as Peter Gabriel and Paul Simon ("City of Dreams" rolls along like the bastard stepchild of "Solsbury Hill" and "Kodachrome"), a riff that Keef misplaced while making Talk Is Cheap ("The Demon of White Sadness"), harmonies worthy of the best the Wilson brothers sang ("Walt Whitman Bridge," "The End"), tales of misfits that'd make Paul Westerberg proud ("The Dishwasher" and "So What If We're Outta Tune...") and a studio intimacy reminiscent of Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers' Damn the Torpedoes, Marah pulls off the greatest homage to ones' predecessors while still achieving their own distinct sound since the Black Crowes journeyed to their Southern Harmony and Musical Companion. The joyful rollicking on "The Closer," "The Hustle," "Fat Boy" and "Poor People" offers further proof that Marah remembers how to kick back and have their unique version of out-and-out fun.

Not an ounce of filler on IYDLYC and easily the best Faces album the Replacements never made.

I was a bit surprised by how amplified the reveiws of this cd are and am offering an alternate take. 'If You Didn't Laugh You'd Cry' is an enjoyable cd and worth investigation but from the comments posted you are led to think that Marah are the second coming of the E Street Band. Certainly the Boss and his cohorts are chief points of inspiration for these guys but the jury is still out for me as to whether they are Bruce or Bon Jovi; that is, profound or just pleasurable. A lot of respected artists today ape old glories and are completely valid in their homages. Ryan Adams comes to mind. However, to lump artists like these in with titans from the past or even people like Jack White or Jeff Tweedy who are currently hammering out their own just as worthy legacies, just isn't honest to the reader.

That said, IYDLYC succeeds balancing swagger with tenderness and you should expect to see Marah's stock rise. I find the disc entertaining even when it doesn't ring particularly true. On the track, 'the Hustle' the band opens by nicking the riff from Cornershop's 'Brimful of Asha' but prove smart enough to fill the song with enough variation that it isn't a distraction for the duration. On the following track, the winsome 'City of Dreams' recalls Elliott Smith with its sensitive cooing and delicate faux acoustic flourishes. I sit listening with a knowing smile understanding why people get off on this; the execution is quite good but the sentiment is intoxicating. Elsewhere, like on 'Poor People' Marah establish a real momentum and its as if Bruce and Zim themselves are rockin' beside them.

IYDLYC compliments another good CD currently receiving praise by the dumptruck full in 'Ahead of the Lions' by the Living Things. You'd do well to buy the two together and digest them for yourself at the same time and since your there, pick up either or both of the Hold Steady albums as well.

My first exposure to Marah was Float Away, but I didn't like it and it kept me away from the band for several years. Finally I purchased 20,000 Streets and it was a much better listening experience, but I wasn't quite sold yet.

I recently bought If You Didn't Laugh and it just blows me away! It's obvious now that Marah is capable of making great music and each release is a little different from the one that preceeded it.

Listening to this CD prompted me to run out and purchase Kids In Philly...another keeper.

If you're interested in rock n roll at all, you need to buy this record; by rock n roll I mean: the Rolling Stones; Townes Van Zandt; The Replacements; The Jam; and etc. Seriously. These guys write the most literate lyrics and put it over the most awesome, accessible rock n' roll that's been created in decades. If you don't love them, you don't have a pulse. That's it. Christ. Buy this album. Buy 30 copies for everyone in your family. Bury copies with your dead relatives. They'll thank you in the afterlife.

After taking a strange attempt at stardom ("Float Away"), Marah returned with a strong "20,000 Streets". The winning streak continues with "If You Didn't Laugh, You'd Cry", with the CD that closest matches their excellent live performances.

Welcome back, guys.

Admire the obvious talent on display "If You Didn't Laugh You'd Cry" but much more importantly its fun. These guys have a great time making music together and its wildly contagious in their concerts and on this album. Honest, authentic, rock and roll isn't dead, its just a little harder to find. When you see an honest band pour its soul out in your local bar, its much easier to get goosebumps if you know the songs. Do yourself a favor buy this album, see this band live, and you'll be real happy you did.