Rooting Out the Best of Smaller O.C. Recordings

For almost five years, the Orange County pop scene has been hurtling forward at an accelerated pace, thanks to commercial breakthroughs and big-label opportunities for a bunch of lucky bands and cheap recording studio time and CD production costs for less fortunate do-it-yourselfers.

A quick scan of features, reviews and commentaries I’ve written this year about current record releases from the local scene yields 58 stories published to date, not counting this one.

An off-the-cuff analysis of those articles shows that the proliferating giant redwoods and mighty oaks of Orange County music have been denying saplings the sunlight (or cloudbursts, as the case may be) of my attention.

Of those 58 articles, 13 concerned acts on major labels, and 31 others were about releases on nationally distributed independent labels (such as Matador, BEC, Hightone, Time Bomb, Nitro and Skunk) or self-financed releases by veteran, credentialed artists whose work always commands attention.

That doesn’t leave much time or space to assess newcomers and other low-profile strivers vying for a little attention.

Well, here’s a shot at creating a bigger niche in our coverage for the little guys. It’s an occasional column of record reviews we’re dubbing Quick Hits, reserved for music from Orange County’s deep grass-roots.

The approach is different from our regular record reviews, which involve an intensive, start-to-finish audition of the album under consideration, and, with rare exceptions, one or more repeat listenings.

Quick Hits will consist of brief thoughts, descriptions and assessments based on a single hearing, in which I’ll reserve the right to hit fast-forward before a track ends if I think I’ve gotten the gist and the music isn’t so alluring that I just have to hear the whole thing.

Because that’s not our standard reviewing approach, we won’t be using the usual star rating system that goes with record reviews. Still, we hope Quick Hits will give readers a helpful glance at the music-making going on close to the seedbed in Orange County’s forest.

With help from freelance writers who also cover local music for The Times, I’ll pick through what’s sent in, and we’ll focus on recordings that show promise or a creative spark we think is worth recognizing.

Musicians from the Orange County/Long Beach scene (or who are based elsewhere in Southern California but play here regularly) can send their work to Mike Boehm, Los Angeles Times/Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626.

Low-Keyed Melancholy

Michael Miller, “Lifeboat Into Mighty”--This singer-songwriter from Seal Beach debuts with a well-wrought, five-song CD; his background includes touring and recording as a backing musician for contemporary Christian artist Charlie Peacock. Miller’s distinctive, reedy voice is potentially a mighty asset, but he sometimes undercuts himself with drawn-out, sighed, wheezy phrasing that makes him sound like a somber Joe Walsh (if such a thing is imaginable).

This is a low-keyed, melancholy disc, using accordion, Dobro and other acoustic instruments; it’s in the realm of Son Volt, “Big Star’s Third” and the contemplative side of Neil Young. Miller applies a melodic ear to mostly downcast relationship songs, culminating in “I Don’t Want to Love You,” a first-rate bit of poignant, aching balladry.

Pleasant Pipe Dreams

Magnetic North, “Pink Electric Razor”--Psychedelic music often comes howling and screaming, but this Trabuco Canyon band mainly conjures up pleasant, easygoing pipe dreams. The songs are nicely melodic, rippling affairs that occasionally go for fuzz-guitar heft. The less manic side of Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd comes to mind in songs that focus hazily on the pleasures of sex, drugs and pastoral settings.

Country Spark

Bill Davis, “Bill Davis”--Country bandleader Davis, a transplant to Orange County, has has his ears and sights set on the mainstream commercial-country sound coming out of his hometown of Nashville. This CD is a spunkier-than-usual example of the genre: polished but not superficial, leaving room for sharp instrumental soloists to make an impression.

The commonplace Eagles influence is strong, but Davis has a manly, Waylon Jennings-like grain in his voice that could let him stand a notch above the faceless pack of interchangeable New Country male recording stars. It’s hard to see how Nashville labels can ignore such immediately grabbing, Davis-penned tracks as “Country-Do-Boogie,” an insouciant number that takes Bob Seger line-dancing, and “River of Love,” a fervent, tender lament for jeopardized old ways.

Appealing Honky-Tonk

Marc Corey Lee, “Stardust Cowboy”--This is a solid improvement over the country singer’s so-so 1995 debut release, “Honky-Tonk Cowboy.” Lee takes a progressive country approach here that alternates sprightly Bakersfield twang and honky-tonk with some Chris Isaak-style moodiness and swelling, Roy Orbison-inspired romanticism.

The lyrics are bland, and Lee’s voice could use a tad more heft to pull off the Orbisonisms, but he has an appealing sweetness and enthusiasm. Guitarists Art Holland and Gary Brandin highlight a strong, flavorful backing band.

Catchy Punk

ARM, “Absolute Raging Maniacs”--No punk rock brattiness, angst or finger-pointing for this band, which wins the punker nice-guy award for musical bonhomie and earthy good spirits. ARM’s sound revolves around a commonplace punk-pop formula of catchy, sing-along choruses, tuneful backing vocals, slashing guitars and messily propulsive drumming.

Singer-guitarist Allen Willingham sets the tone with a voice that’s husky, amiable and enthusiastic, with touches of Ray Davies-like theatricality in an Everyman role. Rather than cast indictments, he exudes enthusiasm and encouragement. Even on a couple of romantic disaster numbers, he’s more wistful than outraged.

ARM isn’t beyond breaking out of the pop-punk mold to speed up a riff borrowed from Bachman-Turner Overdrive, or to insert a sweetly caressing, sentimental ballad whose chord progression calls to mind the Beatles’ “Here, There and Everywhere.” Not raging, maniacal or absolutely important, but consistently enjoyable.

Eclectic Effort

Peace Corp., “Peace Corp.”--The rock marketplace rewards specialists who take things to stylistic extremes; Peace Corp. occupies a middle ground where everything is a possibility, including chugging ‘70s metal riffs, ‘90s ska-punk skip-longs, Seattle grunge and ‘60s garage-band grit and psychedelic freakout guitar. A sardonic outlaw ballad, “Let’s Rip Off the Laundromat,” approximates “Hunky Dory”-period David Bowie.

George Fryer, the trio’s singer-songwriter-guitarist, casts a jaundiced eye on the social landscape; Fryer’s fish tend to be easily-shot barrel-swimmers such as readily-bought politicians, clueless major labels and vapid talk-show TV. But his clear, emphatic, half-laughing, half-scowling delivery makes it worth tuning in.

On the less expected side, Peace Corp. sings a plea to an anorexic, urging her to “clean your plate,” tells a tale of lust in the white-collar workplace and covers both the Cars and a J.S. Bach fugue.