Albert Hammond Jr.
¿Como te Llama?
RCA
By Mike Randall
If Albert Hammond, Jr. made a u-turn from his main gig as a guitarist for the Strokes with his first solo release, Yours to Keep, he’s driving in a “z” pattern with his second attempt, Como Te Llama. With this latest endeavor, in very different ways, it’s almost as if Hammond was looking to please people in two camps: those who adored the 60’s-rock-inspired indie pop of Keep and the diehards who closely monitor the Strokes denim-laced footsteps. What does that translate to? Well, in part, the good news for Strokes fans is that they have a little more in which to hang their hat; the bad news for them is Hammond has never been so boundary-less.
Strokes fans will take most comfort in the razor-edge guitars and smoke-blanketed melodies of “In My Room,” which finds Hammond filling Julian Casablancas’ role nicely with lines like “You see it all got so heavy/ but I miss you already.” The chunky chords of “Boss Americana” will also sound familiar, but Hammond continues to thrive in his experimentation with different sounds and tempos and for the most part leaves his Strokes tendencies behind outside those moments.
Where Hammond separates himself from his main band is through a sense of melody and sincerity. On his own he’s more Elvis Costello and less Lou Reed, able to layer verses with textures of acoustic strums, sprinkles of piano and rapid-fire chord shifts that bridge into choruses that might not be as radio-ready as a track like “Last Nite,” but help shape pieces that feel like true songs and not a band racing to the finish line. Album-opener “Bargain of the Century” is the classic example, which starts off in the pop-rock styling of Yours to Keep before dropping into slower, soulful territory and morphing into churning alt-rock with slick melodic undertones. Hammond sings of being rescued before ripping into a solo, one of several instances on the record where Hammond’s playing is on showcase.
Even if the brooding subject matter (a gift to Strokes fans?) of many of the songs begs to differ, Hammond’s music sounds happier and, at least for him, more out there than ever. With a tortured intonation in his voice as he tries to win back an old flame, the electro-funk bass line of “Victory at Monterey” recalls The Breeders’ Last Splash while the happy-go-lucky strum of “G Up” only begins to touch upon the record’s playful, experimental nature. The Clash is definitely top-of-mind as Hammond runs through sunny, skank-heavy numbers like “Lisa,” “Miss Myrtle” or the reggae-tinged “Borrowed Time,” which features a frantic chorus of “ooohs” above a clear Joe Strummer rhythm. Hammond even seems to extend nods to some distant indie-world colleagues on “Rocket,” which starts out sounding like Bloc Party with heavy drone-like guitar and marching-drum rhythm, and “GfC” features a verse that channels Spoon as Hammond sounds more gruff than he ever has before.
After listening to the 50s-style Buddy Holly guitar pattern and gorgeous strings of “You Won’t be Fooled By This” or the piano balladry and impassioned singing of “Feed Me Jack Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Peter Sellers,” Hammond sounds like he’s outgrown the Strokes. During the latter, he sings, “It’s not too late to see you smile/It’s not too late to stay for a while.” Judging from how far he’s distanced himself from that world, first with Yours to Keep and now with Como Te Llama, that while might have expired for the Strokes and only just begun for an artist who seems to just be scratching the surface of what he can do. And that’s good news for music fans.
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