(This bizarre-ass feature originally appeared on the Rhapsody Blog.)
I’m no Perez Hilton, or even a young Joan Rivers for that matter, but I think I’ve spotted a pop trend — albeit a minor one. It dawned on me when I recently stumbled across the video for Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat’s “Lucky.” (Nine months behind schedule, I know.) It was the same day I read about Break Up, the new album from Pete Yorn and Scarlett Johansson. I’m talking about this whole he/she retro-pop duo thingy. I’m calling it a trend because I can name four additional examples. There’s She & Him (M. Ward and Zooey Deschanel); Wilco and Feist; Mark Lanegan and Isobel Campbell; and Matthew Sweet and Susanna Hoffs. Without sounding too reductive, all these acts are variations on a theme: take a little Lee and Nancy and some Serge and Brigitte and filter them through a modern alt-pop sensibility (with a dash of Americana thrown in for good measure, of course).
Because fellow Rhapsody nerd Rachel Devitt’s Madonna vs. Whitney throwdown was such a killer read, I’ve decided to rip her off. To determine which of these six duos reigns supreme, I’ve decided to judge them across three vectors: killer jams, hot looks and real-deal staying power.
Read on to find out who climbs to the top of the heap.
JASON MRAZ/COLBIE CAILLAT
Killer Jams? The pair has produced just the one single, “Lucky.” It’s bubbly, fun and petite. Think She & Him for fans of Sheryl Crow and John Mayer who’ve never read Pitchfork.
Hot Looks? Mraz is your typical scrawny troubadour who waltzes into Urban Outfitters once a month and snaps up all the faux-vintage fedoras. Caillat, on the other hand, is something special. In that “Lucky” video, she nicks tricks from Jewel’s old-school busty-nature-babe routine and flirtatiously wanders through some kind of low-tide flood plain in a snow-white dress. It’s beyond pure.
Real-Deal Staying Power? Mraz will become a popular emcee on the adult alternative oldies circuit in exactly two decades (along with fellow fedora fans Gavin DeGraw and Matt Nathanson). As for Caillat, she’ll either blow up, wig out and head to Nashville (again, just like Jewel), or slip back into obscurity and become a honey-skinned surfing instructor just north of San Diego, where she’ll fall in love with me after saving my butt during a freak boogie-board accident.
WILCO/FEIST
Killer Jams? As with Caillat and Mraz, they’ve produced but a single tune, “You and I,” the lead-off single from Wilco’s latest album. I love these guys, but c’mon Tweedy, you didn’t really share any top shelf material, now did you? I mean, it’s a pleasant enough melody, but it really is way more Poconos than Adirondacks when compared to, say, “Either Way” or “My Darling” or “Say You Miss Me.”
Hot Looks? Feist is definitely an indie-pop cutie, yet she’s a little too Gap commercial. She needs a hairy mole or a big schnoz — that little something extra to inject some character into her look. Now that I think about it, Feist is basically Charlotte Gainsbourg without all the bony awesomeness. Tweedy, meanwhile, is really starting to freak me out. In addition to patchy facial hair that resembles a Halloween prop gone wrong, he’s slowly morphing into my dad, which is kind of strange, considering Pops is an Italian/Puerto Rican mix who still insists on wearing a 20-year-old Caesar-styled toupee.
Real-Deal Staying Power? None whatsoever. Tweedy and company are so soft rock these days that he’ll quickly ditch Feist and shack up with Carly Simon.
PETE YORN/SCARLETT JOHANSSON
Killer Jams? Break Up is good, clean fun, if a bit schizo. Half the time Pete and ScarJo are chasing after She & Him: rootsy alt-rocker and sexy actress with quasi-indie cred, cranking out bubbly retro-pop. The other half finds them gunning for the adult alternative charts, with falsetto-laden balladry. The album contains one real misfire: Scarlett trying to tackle Chris Bell’s “I Am the Cosmos.” That’s just plain wrong.
Hot Looks? What male under 70 hasn’t googled pix of ScarJo at least 100 times in the last three years? She just might be Hollywood’s pin-up of the decade. The lass bares creamy inner thighs without ever looking like a lady of the night — or Fergie for that matter. How did Yorn get any work done in the studio? Poorly shaven dude must’ve been as nervous as a 13-year-old boy whose hot teacher bends over his desk to double-check his multiplication.
Real-Deal Staying Power? No offense to Pete, but he’s a strange match for an A-list star who could have the pick of the litter. The fact that Scarlett didn’t snag Chris Martin or even Jeff Tweedy makes me think she’s not taken seriously in the music biz. I give this collaboration an additional EP. But who really cares? Pete totally scored and surely enjoys Scarlett draped all over his shoulders during photo shoots. Good work, my man.
SUSANNA HOFFS/MATTHEW SWEET
Killer Jams? Matt and Susie have churned out two albums of classic rock and baroque pop covers: Under the Covers volumes 1 and 2. Both are carefree affairs, bordering on karaoke toss-offs. That said, when you’re Matthew Sweet and Susanna Hoffs — power-pop icons both of them — your karaoke toss-offs are better than most pop musicians’ serious work.
Hot Looks? You’d think ScarJo would receive my vote for hottest retro-pop duo babe, but you’d be dead wrong! Susie Hoffs is tops in my book. First off, she looks fantastic for a classy lady born in 1959. Secondly, there’s the teenage lust factor. I dreamed nightly about Hoffs in the late 1980s. Each new Bangles video meant a new mini-skirt. Then there was the The Allnighter, this terrible flick from ’87 that will be remembered only because Hoffs sported a bikini for, like, 60 magical seconds. As for Sweet, he needs to hire Susanna’s trainer ASAP. He wasn’t at all bad looking back in the Girlfriend days. In recent photos, however, it looks as though he’s hitting the In-n-Out Burger on Sunset about four times a week.
Real-Deal Staying Power? This is just a pit stop. Both are long overdue for some nostalgia love: recreating Girlfriend live, a Bangles reunion, maybe The Allnighter II…
SHE & HIM
Killer Jams? M. Ward and Zooey have crafted the single-most consistent album here: Volume 1. This duo knows their Brill Building/girl group history. Each track is exquisitely arranged and filled with sonic coolness. Plus, Zooey’s voice hiccups with sass and preciousness. She can drill a melody straight into the skull. Throw great production into the mix, and you have yourself perfect polka-dot-bikini beach music.
Hot Looks? You know how certain rich kids look good only because they can afford fine designer threads and high-quality makeup? Well, that’s M. Ward and Zooey. It’s all in the shopping. Dress these two up like a couple of third-shift steel workers from Buffalo who shop at Kohl’s, and you wouldn’t even notice them. That said, Zooey’s sister Emily has a stunning jawline.
Real-Deal Staying Power? Totally. These two have such fantastic synergy that Zooey is going to ditch main squeeze Ben Gibbard. Of course, their relationship will end badly (that whole business/pleasure thing), with a string of harrowing breakup albums credited to “She” and “Him” individually. Unfortunately, no one will ever get to hear them until the deluxe reissues 30 years later, because googling “she” and “him” turns up a bunch of nonsense.
ISOBEL CAMPBELL/MARK LANEGAN
Killer Jams? Oh, hell yes. Though neither of their two albums, Ballad of the Broken Seas or Sunday at Devil Dirt, is quite as consistent as She & Him’s Volume 1, their peaks are unrivaled. What a genius idea: take the queen of Scottish twee and pair her up with hard rock’s last raspy-voiced titan. Listening to these two sing together is like diving naked into a pool of fuzzy bunnies and sandpaper. Talk about Lee and Hazlewood’s cowboy gothic groove — right now, we’re neck deep, friends.
Hot Looks? I dig the ladies, but there are two men whom I would consider making sweet love to: Jim Morrison and Mark Lanegan. But let’s not overlook Campbell. Her hushed chirp makes you think you’re listening to one of these hipster waifs. Of course, she’s cute. But with a face often plastered with too much makeup, Campbell looks more like a waitress at the local diner. We’re talking well-worn sexiness, especially when she croons, “Tell me, baby, tell me pretty lies.”
Real-Deal Staying Power? These two are wandering spirits, so this won’t last too long. Maybe another record? What’s interesting to note is that it’s Campbell’s project. She writes the songs and calls the shots, something you just don’t assume when you see the diminutive blonde standing next to this hulking beast, whom you expect is large and in charge.
And the winners are… She & Him. But wait a minute! Just as the duo reaches the podium to accept its award, Lanegan enters from stage right with Campbell hoisted upon his shoulders, kind of like Master Blaster from Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome. He kicks both M. Ward and Zooey into the orchestra pit and claims the brassy statue.
t off, welcome to the first installment of my new column, Classic Rock Crate Digger. Like the dashboard of a vintage Saab, my mission statement is simple and to the point: dive into Rhapsody’s insanely bottomless catalog and explore all the nooks and crannies of that hairy, sweaty behemoth known as classic rock. You see, I love rock ‘n’ roll from the 1970s, but I’m so sick and tired of the same 40 songs my local DJ has been regurgitating for the last 35 years. Call me crazy, but there’s way more to classic rock than “Free Bird,” “More Than a Feeling” and “The Joker.” For example, just about anybody who worships riff-a-rific hard rock has cranked a little Free, those skinny, blues-rock Brits who sculpted one of the most titanic grooves ever know to man: “All Right Now.” Yet how many out there have dug into sprawling discography of The Groundhogs, who — in my humble opinion, at least — rock as hard as Free and Mountain and Grand Funk Railroad COMBINED? Unfortunately, the Groundhogs never scored a hit here in the States, so they’re relatively unknown outside select circles. But just about any longhair between the ages of 18 and 65, regardless of his/her classic rock IQ, would absolutely flip for the band’s 1971 magnum opus, Thank Christ for the Bomb.
