Justin Bond exists in a cabaret. Either as a perfectly transgendered performer (beautiful and statuesque both as a man and a woman) or in the up-until-recently more familiar trappings of the character Kiki DuRane of Kiki and Herb (for whom Butt Trumpet's ‘You're Ugly’ is a defiant self-declaration). Justin Vivian Bond's work has been about performance and context. Bond has mastered the telling of stories both true and fantastical into introductions to a collection of the most unexpectedly theatrical songs (Marc Almond's ‘A Lover Spurned’ became a Shirley Bassey-style showstopper as the conclusion to the tale of Kiki attacking her husband with a steak knife). So, as exciting as news of a solo studio album from the newly christened Justin Vivian Bond was, I met the prospect with trepidation. How could a series of individual songs in the vacuum of an LP represent the Justin Bond experience absent of the catharsis of social commentary or anecdotes about old friends being arrested for a baby-punching spree? (I don't really have the space in this review to explain that last statement.)

The thing is, an album really isn't a vacuum and while I never had the privilege of seeing Nina Simone perform, she also lived in the cabaret, and yet she left a rich collection of transcendent studio recordings behind. And here is Justin Vivian Bond, barreling through ‘22nd Century’ as if channeling those times on stage where Nina claimed the music would take the lead and take over her body: "A liberation of music, poetry, love and life. Sex: changing, changing, changing... Woman is man, man is woman. Even your brain is not your brain!" as guitar and drums (courtesy of Nathan Carraro) pound the background. And you might ask "Do we need this recording when we have Nina's version?" And I'll ask you back "How many people do you know who know Nina's version? How many people, for that matter, do you know who have heard Exuma's original version?" If the answer is few, or none, than I argue we need as many versions as possible (and I'll also say I'm very grateful for Justin Bond).

Justin Bond is a great interpreter of songs, not only as a singer, but as someone who can take beloved songs as found objects and re-present them to audiences as something living, breathing and relevant. When Bond started to branch away from the Kiki persona, V (Mx. Bond's personal pronoun of choice rather than he or she... by the way V also prefers Mx.) did so in a complex atmosphere: one a little dazed and frightened by the aftershock of poor decisions made by those trusted in taking care of the finances and safety of the American public.

Simultaneously, it's a time when the U.S. may just possibly, may be finally mature enough to grow up about gender issues but still unable to quiet petulant children who would prefer their status quo to other's pursuit of happiness. In response, Bond offers up a voice of both of tenderness and angry opposition to the small-minded.

Dendrophile starts with Essex Hemphill's poem ‘American Wedding’. In V's words, it's an invocation, one that is supercharged with beat woodwinds, evocatively beginning with "In America, I put my ring on your cock where it belongs" and ultimately becoming a statement of pure love. "They're too busy looting" to notice the pure love of two people providing for each other. It's a perfect lead-in to the second track on the album, which is, well, a perfect recording: Bambi Lake's ‘The Golden Age of Hustlers’. Lake, a friend of Bond's, is one of the best songwriters I've ever encountered and yet I only know the songs of Bambi Lake through Justin Bond.* ‘Hustlers’ is a song about the memories of a transgendered hooker in San Francisco "long ago":

My eye was always looking
For some dumb man to pay my rent
And some young man to love me
With so many heaven sent,
I thank the stars above me.

And along the way, we find that people died and wasted away... "it's hard to find someone you can trust, amidst the rhinestones and the rust." But, importantly, "the queens and the hustlers of the red light zone never did desert me." This can be a golden age because someone has your back and someone is there to break your fall. It's an amazing, haunting song and V belts it out, here, on record, as well or better than in some of the astounding live renditions I've heard. The two songs also set the tone for the entire record... one of acceptance, community and love but with backbone. It’s a tenderness and strength that also defines the Justin Vivian Bond original compositions represented here, particularly the next two: ‘Equipoise’, a lovely parable of self-discovery amidst self-guilt set to a country tune and ‘The New Economy’, an anthem, at times hilarious, contrasting the shock of the "new depression" against the economic state of the typical artist living hand-to-mouth:

They say it's the new depression. So why am I filled with glee? Everyone coming down quickly. Now they can all join me.

But joining means finding the unknown joys of having nothing but the ability to evoke fancy and fantasy while loving "the sound of thunder of your world crashing down." The new golden rule is "take what you need and give a little back." Just marvelous, and it's a song I've loved from the first time I heard it but I was a little surprised by the arrangement on the record. It's down and dirty, soaked with the sounds of brass in the night, straight out of a Raymond Chandler alleyway (thanks to Doug Wieselman on clarinet) and flanked with, astonishingly, banjo. The players on most of the album are, in fact, many of the same people who played on what was my favorite album at this time last year: Sam Amidon's collection of folk artifacts, I See The Sign: Sam Amidon himself (playing that banjo on this track), Shahzad Ismaily (as in "everything is better with a little Shahzad Ismaily"), and Thomas Bartlett (who also produced the album) appear throughout. It's a risky marriage of the NY cultures of Joe's Pub and The Stone (or if you're nostalgic, Fez and Tonic) and it works very well for a very good reason: it's a collaboration of risk takers and, as a result, it's an exchange of ideas.

Dendrophile is an album “chock-filled” with ideas; enough to make one's head spin. ‘Crowley á la Lee’ as a song title means Aleister Crowley (famed occultist) channeled through Peggy Lee. It's a hoot, one that's really, really, REALLY sung in the vein of Ms. Lee marrying the mystery of the moon with the wish to dance and make love with witchcraft thrown in through lyrics casually mentioning "old crones singing with a goat child" and invoking both of the title allusions through Amidon's crazy-ass insane violin and Bartlett's jazzy piano.

Bond plays with ballads and disco beats while invoking Shaw, Genet and Joan Didion's Play It As It Lays. (The fabulous ‘Genet Song’ is a candidate for my favorite song in fact, featuring Ismaily's drums laying the carpet for dance while Weiselman blows the sax.) The title track ‘Dendrophile’ in and of itself, is a provocative idea. The word means an erotic attraction to nature, and themes of witchcraft and higher human purpose shape the entire work.

And Bond always starts with the assumption that we're as smart as V is - that we'll put the threads together. The threading pays off well when he ingeniously marries The Carpenter's ‘Superstar’ to Joan Baez's bitter letter to a moved-on Bob Dylan, ‘Diamonds and Rust’. (I want to be a DJ so I can play Cat Power's ‘Song to Bobby’ after this track.) Just having the songs in a medley is more than enough, but Justin puts on a splendid performance in both pieces - a lovely piece of acting. And the ‘Superstar’ portion of the song is highlighted by two performers actually channeling Karen: Beth Orton haunting the song with harmony vocals and Shahzad Ismaily capturing her drum part impeccably.

At the risk of making this already-too-long review longer, I'll just say the revival of Bond's hit ‘In the End’ from the movie Shortbus is welcome and his cover of Joni Mitchell's ‘Court and Spark’ highlighted by Bartlett's fingertips is a very pretty end note to a very thoughtful, sensual journey.

Witty and whip-smart, a consummate performer, Justin Vivian Bond is my kind of performer - one with an encyclopedic knowledge of popular song and how it functions, and the wisdom and integrity to turn that understanding into art.

Somewhere I heard it said that the real difference between the North and the South is that in the North we hide our crazy people whereas in the South the crazies are celebrated. And proving it are the highly prolific Southern Drive By Truckers, who are back with Go-Go Boots, a recording casting a big bright light on all sorts of crazy people. The album is part noir, part murder ballad; a literary collection akin to the Southern Gothic novellas so richly explored by O’Connor, Williams, Faulkner, and Capote among others.

Go-Go Boots is the band’s ninth record and comes less than a year after their release of The Big To-Do. The tracks for both albums were recorded during the same sessions. And yet both records could be considered the opposite sides of the same coin. Each explores the dark and all too real world of rural, blue collar America. The Big To-Do was pure Southern Fried Rock, heavy with screaming guitars. Go-Go Boots, however, finds the Truckers giving in to their regional roots. This is a far more soulful record, one allowing that classic Muscle Shoals sound to shine through.

After various comings and goings and line- up changes the Truckers seem to have found a comfortable and effective songwriting and vocalist core with Preston Hood, Mike Cooley, and Shonna Tucker. In Hood you get an energetic twang almost cracking with emotion. Cooley offers that deep, rich constant tone, presenting the familiar cowboy image of loveable rogue. Tucker’s feminine touch provides a respite with her quiet, vulnerable sensuality that sometimes feels too intimate, as if the listener is intruding. Despite the distinct and unique qualities these three bring in their approach, on Go-Go Boots there is an odd sameness in their differences that adds cohesion to the album.

Storytelling songs have always been a tradition in music but particularly in the music of the South. From ‘The Night The Lights Went Out In Georgia’ to ‘Knoxville Girl’ these narratives have taught us about corruption, cheating lovers, murder, and all the emotions swirling around struggles and failures found in everyday life. Go-Go Boots provides a satisfying peek into rural existence that at times is truly frightening. The straight-forward, simple telling of these songs creates vivid scenes that stick with you long after the needle reaches the record’s final groove. In the extended track ‘The Fireplace Poker’ we learn of a murder for hire gone wrong, ending with a satisfying twist: “Life was falling from her grasp but she still lay there trying. No one will ever know what she told him or what he told her. Cause the Reverend did his wife in, fifteen whacks, fireplace poker.” Similarly creepy is ‘Used to Be a Cop’: ”Used to have a wife but she told me I was crazy. Said she couldn’t stand the way I fidget all the time. Sometimes late at night I circle round the house. I look through the windows and dream that she’s still mine.”

All of Go-Go Boots has a story to tell and for the most part the album works. One really feels as though the Truckers are bearing witness to the lives portrayed. On ‘Dancing Ricky’ we feel the freedom of the song’s subject as he acts the fool seemingly without care: “You’ve been spinning just like a ride. What you gonna do about actin’ right?” We share an understanding and feel the pain of the man declaring: “Leaving you won’t be any harder than walking out the door and leaving town, but I will be leaving knowing surviving you don’t make me stronger than the weakest man who ever turned you down” on the old school, country infused ‘The Weakest Man’.

Go-Go Boots includes two covers by a songwriter and guitar player for the Muscle Shoals Sound Rhythm Section, Eddie Hinton. ‘Where’s Eddie’ is a track Shonna Tucker makes her own. We feel genuine sympathy as she searches in vain for her missing love. The other Hinton track, however, ‘Everybody Needs Love’, seems more out of place, perhaps making more sense on The Big To-Do. While a technically sound recording by the band, inclusion on this record interrupts the album’s satisfyingly dark vibe. The upbeat hopeful tune seems too much like calculated redemption on a record populated by criminals and cast offs.

Go-Go Boots proves that the while the Truckers never stray too much from the themes and imagery found in the South, they do mature and evolve with each subsequent release. Though it hardly seems possible, they appear to tweak and perfect their sound and storytelling skills a little more on every record. Go-Go Boots creates unsettling and intense imagery that begs for a cross over into visual media. These stories and their characters will remain with the listener for years to come.

Given enough time and a long enough discography, most songwriting musicians get around to politics as subject matter. That is where PJ Harvey finds herself on Let England Shake: dabbling in politics. It was a natural move. After nearly two decades of songs exploring sexual politics, it must be liberating for her exploring politics from another angle.

Recorded over five weeks at a church in Dorset, England, the 12 songs that comprise Let England Shake are the result of an incredibly long incubation period, an apt metaphor for Harvey who reinvents herself with each studio album. Some of the material dates back to the sessions for her seventh: Chalk. The new material required a new way of singing she has told interviewers. The end result is her most rewarding since Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea, her critically acclaimed New York City album from way back in 2000, which has made several impressive best of lists , including Rolling Stone’s 50 Essential “Women In Rock” Albums and NME’s greatest albums of the decade that just ended.

So this is not a reactionary piece of work. Harvey is not reacting to recent political events in England such as the election of David Cameron (Conservative) over Gordon Brown (Labour). The politics engaged on Let England Shake are as old as dear Blighty itself and should ensure Harvey’s eighth a long shelf life. She says it was influenced by the poetry of Harold Pinter and T. S. Eliot, the artwork of certain Spaniards, and the music of The Doors, The Pogues, and The Velvet Underground. I don’t really hear those musical influences but that only attests to the originality of the music on Let England Shake: it’s shaken off the influences. (The songs more strongly evoke the sensibility of Jethro Tull and Renaissance without sounding like those bands either.) More obvious are the ruminations on the history of conflict that Harvey says has interested her of late. The lyrics often reflect on battle and you’ll find references to James Walker and Anzac trenches strewn throughout.

Finally ready to record, Harvey rounded up Mick Harvey and John Parish as usual to support her and Flood did the mixing. Most tracks were recorded live in the Dorset church over a five week period in April-May 2010. Cat Stevens dropped by to take the booklet’s photos. French drummer Jean-Marc Butty’s contributions were added during post-production. While not the fans’ favorite drummer behind Harvey, he goes way back in the Harvey discography having contributed to Harvey’s third: To Bring You My Love.

I could quibble that the third track ‘The Glorious Land’ is a better lead track with its fluttering, trumpet-like instrumentation than the title track but it’s a strong collection no matter how it’s sequenced. Chalk’s featured instrument for Harvey – the piano – has yielded to the saxophone and autoharp and she does take chances with her singing throughout. One of the best tracks – ‘The Words That Maketh Murder’ – was wisely chosen as the single. Easily one of the best three songs on this collection, it’s a clever arrangement with the chorus’ cadences bringing back memories of ‘Surfing Bird’ before giving way to a line from Eddie Cochran’s ‘Summertime Blues’. And for fans who have stuck by her over, a song such as ‘The Last Living Rose’ sounds as if it could come from any of Harvey’s previous albums.

Let England Shake concludes on an odd note. ‘The Colour of the Earth relegates Harvey to being a backing vocalist on her own album as she lets Butty step behind the lead vocalist’s microphone. It’s a ballsy move with a questionable pay-off. Intellectually I get it: the song is about World War I’s Gallipoli campaign and permitting Butty to carry the song makes sense: the lyrics about a fallen comrade in circa 1915 are more suitable for a male vocalist. Compounding the equation, having a Frenchman sing is apropos given the fact that the Gallipoli campaign was a combined British and French campaign. Emotionally, however, it is an unsatisfying move. On Harvey’s album, you want her singing the last song on an otherwise satisfying album.