Trey Anastasio
Shine
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Trey Anastasio
Shine
Columbia, 2005
RiYL: John Mayer, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Steely Dan |
Phish's songs always had more in common with Frank Zappa than the Allman Brothers, even if they descended into silliness far more often than they had any right to. Part of the band's charm was that whenever they pulled out something like "Purple Rain" or Jimi Hendrix's "Bold As Love" in concert, they immediately transformed from a group of canny psychedelic improvisers into the gooniest frathouse cover band you ever heard. Anastasio's first proper solo album was recorded and released during a hiatus (not breakup) from Phish; as such Trey Anastasio wasn't really looked to as a blueprint for what Trey-without-Phish might sound like. Indeed, a lot of the record sounded like Anastasio deliberately trying out what Phish wouldn't let him do at the time. The song structures were convoluted to the degree of hysteria, string and horn parts were as a rule delicately composed, and the rhythm section was often asked to sit still and play one thing for a couple of minutes, never Mike Gordon and Jon Fishman's strong suit.
Shine comes out under very different circumstances. Phish reunited not long after Trey Anastasio for two mediocre-at-best albums and two years of indifferent touring; the experience likely set Trey up quite nicely financially but he's lost a lot of musical momentum from the first solo album. Perhaps it's that, or maybe it's feeling pressure to define himself anew with Phish (allegedly) in the history books, but Shine presents Trey Anastasio as just about the last thing you'd ever expect him to become: a guitar-hoistin', lighter raise-provokin', arena rockin' hero. Why?
Phish attempted the AM radio thing with Billy Breathes; they were so singularly unsuited for the form of the four-minute pop single that the album's misshapen nature is kind of charming. Shine doesn't get off so easily. The opening title track presents more lame rock clichés than I can ever remember Anastasio delivering before. The big harmonized chorus. Lyrics so "universal" you're sure you've heard them before. A solo over the fadeout. The rhythm section which seemed disciplined on Trey Anastasio here just seems inert.
Most of the material falls into the same tired trap, which is odd because neither Anastasio's voice nor his melodic sense is particularly a good fit for this sort of music. "Love Is Freedom" is as dire as its title. "Wherever You Find It" alternates lyrics that are obvious or awkward over an adult contemporary beat. The southern rock-ish "Air Said To Me" sounds more like something Trey would cover with a sneer on his face than a song he would ever earnestly present as his own work.
Better is stuff like "Sleep Again," which resembles the Phish of Undermind and Round Room with more attention given to tightening the arrangement. Fans will want to know that Shine contains almost no jamming whatsoever, not that it's required: Phish's two best albums, Hoist and The Story Of The Ghost, weren't at all freeform.
What Shine does suffer from a lack of is spontaneity. The first few songs (fast, fast, slow) set up expectations about how the rest of the record will proceed that aren't bucked at all. This wasn't true of Trey Anastasio. Who expected Anastasio/Marshall to suddenly become Becker/Fagen? Shine wastes Anastasio's guitar, his band, and his underrated compositional talents. Of course, he probably won't play any of the songs from it on tour anyway.
MARK T.R. DONOHUE | Mark T.R. Donohue is a prolific freelance writer whose areas of expertise include Rockies baseball, video games, genre television, English soccer, and pub rock. He lives in Colorado, where he cultivates the largest and creepiest private collection of Alyson Hannigan memorabilia in the Mountain West.