Woman (440 cps) In this island-scented, softly flirtatious song, Crafton recreates the Garden of Eden, punctuated by Ross Holtz’s playful udu and guiro, the better to seduce you with. A hip-switching beat calls upon reggae’s infectious rhythms while leaving out the electric guitar, creating a light background of aural beats accompanying Crafton’s enticing lyrical flow. His words may be only sweet nothings whispered on the dance floor, but the aphrodiasiac tempting may be enough to make you forget that.
Information Seekers Crafton here outs a stripped-down Zappa-esque folksong. With its witty, bittersweet worldview and memorable, deceptively simple hook, “Information Seekers” could be the tune that introduces a legion of fans to the work of this prolific singer-songwriter. Relentlessly funny while sharply politically astute, this song reminds listeners that the power to make sense of their world has been there all along.
Rising to Fall Love can be a bummer trip, man. This is a song to listen to when you want to recall, and then hopefully forget, a failed love affair. This song, with its sparse punctuation of angry bass guitar notes, goes well with drinking and a lot of booze, drunken reminiscing, and those alternately tender and hot-headed 3:00 AM phone calls that follow. Or, cheer yourself up by reminding yourself that this relationship isn’t the one that you’re currently in.
Our Glass Is the hourglass of our lives half-full, or half-empty? Crafton’s meditations on the nature of time, the cycle of life, and how what comes around, goes around. Donning the role of the magician which he does so well, Crafton instructs us gently that “We are love, sweet love, endlessly repeating.” Bathe your senses in the soothing repetitions of this melodic song in the tradition of the philosopher-poet.
Emotion/Devotion Nationwide polls show that the majority of Americans, despite what may be appearances to the contrary, believe in God and the afterlife. So it’s not surprising that a majority also believe in guardian angels, those celestial beings which follow us through our lives, protecting us from harm. A calculation of how many people pursue a more intimate relationship with their guardian angels, however, has never been attempted. Do you know the name of your guardian angel(s)? Have you ever sung a song to your invisible protector? Here, Crafton crafts a lyrical and musical tribute to some of the known properties of his own guardian angel.
“W” Crafton is at his satiric best in “W,” which opens in the trailer-covered lowlands of our great country’s mobile home parks. This song is many things, not least of which is a cinematic portrait in words and music of that group of Americans simultaneously celebrated and marginalized by the popular imagination—trailer trash. The singer lovingly lingers over the details of the experience—the pretty white wife, days filled with under-employment but a notwithstanding lack of leisure time, the omnipresent hum of insects in the back—before moving on to the broader implications of social policy on education and the workforce in the state of the nation. Culminating in a hilarious, layered crescendo reminiscent of “Hair,” “W” valiantly provides a snapshot of a civilization and an anthem of the working class and poor.
Bobi Wood (Sep 18, 2007)