Franky Perez - Poor Man's Son

Why is it that the cute and bothered boys with the acoustic guitars sing about such boring things? Why must they harp on things like beauty and innocence without a shred of irony? They look so cuddly, bed-headed, and earnest, but when the open their mouths they end up sounding like Jacob Dylan looks next to his father: Prettier but stupider. It's sad really, when they are obviously talented and good people with a lot to offer. Yep, Franky Perez is one of the few, the proud, the pretty. Actually there are more Franky Perez's out there than I'd like to admit. When Perez gets snarly on Poor Man's Son, claiming to "face [his] demons eye to eye" ("Life on the Edge") he sounds like every Duncan Shiek-type that they play at resturants. You know- the kind you can eat to and feel vaguely American and un-bothered whilst you shove french fries in your mouth. It's such nontroublesome music, Poor Man's Son, that I could drive around and think about everything but the CD. It didn't make me sit up and take notice of it, didn't make me groove, didn't make me hate it. It was just a docent little disc. Songs like "Cold Hard Rain" are definitley spiritual, definitley blues toned, but it just makes me think of standing at the hostess stand at Tripp's, 'cause when Perez sings about loosing his mind and faith, he only sounds tired, not at all desperate as a "cold hard rain/ pounding on [one's] bones/... crooked when [one] is straight" would make them feel. The music's great, the voice is great, but the emotion is flatlined. I don't feel anything Franky Perez is saying. Even when he screams I'm sedate. Maybe he's a visionary that I am missing, but as far as I'm concerned, if you remind me of muzak then you're not really making music. [www.franky-perez.com]