Scott Thomas Band, California- Emma Green

REVIEW: Scott Thomas Band, California (Elektra)

- Emma Green

Imagine an album opening with an acoustic step-around reminiscent of "Hotel California" before evolving into its own repetitive riff, ironically titled "California." Then imagine alternative-country, straight-ahead rock, and surf sound morphing into each other for a few songs before Jeff Buckley's ghost descends down to mumble and gently float through a closing ballad. Such is the first impression of the California, a debut from the Scott Thomas Band.

Scott Thomas is a natural explorer; it's just not clear if he's searching for love, purpose, or himself. "Sad Girl" almost perfectly captures the essence of the disc as Thomas wails in his warm husky voice, "Please somebody notice me." If his songs were a little more original, the friendly DJ might give them a second spin. While California is a solid collection of hearty meat-and-potatoes West Coast rock, it adheres to the verse chorus verse syndrome more closely than Casablanca follows the classical Hollywood paradigm. There's a little surf rock ("Happy"), a dark and morbid "Black Valentine" ("She shares my blood with everyone"), a powerful compelling "Full Moon Painter," leading down towards the finale, a gentle lullaby ballad ("Goodnight baby").

Once again, the opening riff syndrome returns with "Days of Hours," which vaguely recalls Air Supply's 1980s ballad "All Out of Love." But once Thomas catches the listener's attention with his melodic riffs, he takes the notes and orchestrates them into songs of his own. Good, solid rock songs... but nothing particularly striking. Vocally, one can easily locate Thomas somewhere between the melodic hookiness of Tom Petty and Nashville alternative-country rocker Todd Snider; at times harsh, warm and raspy, and other times impassioned, particularly on the catchy "Full Moon Painter," the only real standout track.

Thomas co-produced California with guitarist Andrew Williams (The Williams Bros., Peter Case), who together seem to march to the beat of the Tom Petty's resonating drum. It seems so conventional these days.


Issue Index
WestNet Home Page   |   Previous Page   |   Next Page