Danielle Howle and the Tantrums
Do a Two Sable
Daemon Records, PO Box 1207, Decatur GA 30031
Release Date: October, 1997
With a voice that's spreadably smooth and rich like cream cheese, Danielle Howle could hold her own crooning adult contemporary faves or belting out standards to a dinner-theater set. What does she sing instead? The countrified strains of her native South Carolina are in the mix, but so are the quintessentially D.C. sounds of her first label, Simple Machines. Twang and drone, to put it most simply, but her voice infuses both with a classic feel to which neither is accustomed.
Howle puts a new twist on the rapidly proliferating crop of "Americana" artists. Most of those bands -- the Wilcos and Supersuckers of the world -- sound like their punk rock caravan just crashed in Oklahoma on the way to a gig in Berkeley and all the sudden they have to play "I Wanna Be Sedated" with a pedal steel and a fiddle. Danielle Howle is confused in a totally different way. She fights to merge her country sensibilities with refined art-rock and indie rock's more experimental sounds, and, without exception, succeeds.
Turn up the volume a bit, and Fugazi could scream a nice little number over the tense guitars in "Host for the Notes," while on "Anything Can Get Into My Heart," it's Howle's voice that does the menacing. It does just fine keeping up with the ominous swell of the guitars on "Anything," the gutsy taunts on "Where Were You," and the rapid-fire affront of "Cartoon In The Courtroom." Then, hang onto your Stetson 'cause Danielle and the band are heading to Texas. "If You Wanna Leave" is a Johnny Cash tune with a Patsy Cline attitude: a slow, smoky, sexy lope made exciting by Howle's quirky delivery.
But what really blew me away was the closing couplet. "Dusty" builds slowly, more smoke than fire; the type of moody number you might hear late at night in a roadhouse on the moon. Danielle, you're not in South Carolina anymore. Then on the last track, "Big Front Porch," Howle's two worlds finally crash head-on. It starts out sounding just like the name would make you think: rollicking country rock-and-roll fun, but then there's a break in the action, and Howle gets contemplative. The band lingers on that moment, lets it sink in, then unleashes a complex, thoroughly satisfying crescendo that lets you finally know the truth: this is where she's been heading all along.
-- Chris Schwartz
schwartz@outersound.com
