HARPApril/May 2004
Anne McCue
Roll
Messenger Records
A leading contender for the title of “Next Lucinda Williams” (or is it “the Next Kathleen Edwards”), Australia’s Anne McCue, arrives bearing an officlal seal of approval. Williams herself has been an active supporter, taking the singer/songwriter on tour with her and choosing one of McCue’s recordings for an artist’s-choice compilation. To boot, Williams sideman Dusty Wakeman co-produces the uniformly excellent Roll. Some of the tracks underscore the connection. From the twangy folk rock of “Stupid,” a natural for Rosanne Cash, to the bitter-yet-airy ballad “50 Dollar Whore,” a blunt exercise in self-loathing. McCue’s concise story-songs and yearning have a familiar, satisfying ring. But a rowdier sensibility surfaces elsewhere. A gifted guitarist, McCue injects the churning “Nobody’s Sleeping” with a buzzing solo Neil Young would envy; the sullen “Ghandi” finds her muttering, “I wanted to be like Buddha/But I turned out like Nixon.” and she closes the album with a messy and magnificent nine-minute version of Jimi Hendrix’s “Machine Gun,” unleashing shards of beautiful noise in the finest tradition of the master. If that’s the real Anne McCue, let’s hear more.
- JON YOUNG
ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY
February 13, 2004LISTEN2THIS
The Mix: Music
Anne McCue
Roll
Messenger
If Anne McCue, like up-and-comer Kathleen Edwards, represents a new generation of hard-bitten, country-inflected singer-songsmiths drawing deep inspiration from Lucinda Williams, don't fault her for it. She could do worse for role models, and -- also like Edwards -- is forging unique voice from the influence. The songwriting on McCue's hooky third solo album often teeters between bold and heavyhanded: "Stupid" celebrates an aborted suicide, and "50 Dollar Whore: is a self-esteem building exercise that's emotionally miles away from Christina Aguilera's "Beautiful." But the thrill is hearing her fearless vaults into risky territory -- check the squalling, nine-plus-minute version of Jimi Hendrix's "Machine Gun." B+
BLENDER
http://www.blender.com/reviews/review_1968.html
Anne McCue
Roll
Messenger
Release Date: 3/9/2004
On solo U.S. debut, Aussie songwriter and Vietnam vet (sort of) mixes folk and Hendrix
Reviewed by John DeForeAnne McCue is a folkie, but she’s no delicate flower: Fresh off a tour with Louisiana growler Lucinda Williams, the Aussie singer-guitarist recently spent a year gigging five nights a week in Vietnam and boasts an arsenal of muscular Hendrix chords (the trippy, multi-tracked “Hangman”). The title song is a bluesy, tough-girl strut, but McCue is best when she’s beating up on herself: Her warm, unpolished alto is all vulnerability on the stripped-down, remorseful “50 Dollar Whore,” while she compares herself to Judas Iscariot, Hitler and Richard Nixon on “Gandhi.” She’s likely overestimating her sins a touch, although the way she rips off Sinéad O’Connor’s vocal tics on the chorus is borderline criminal.PERFORMING SONGWRITER
March 2004
REVIEWS
Anne McCue
Roll
[Messenger]
Anne McCue’s heavy slide guitar is as much an expressive instrument as her voice: Both are engaged in describing the ache in her lyrics in ways that words can’t, by slipping into a steely hush. On the title track of McCue’s sophomore solo LP Roll—as the Aussie singer-songwriter spits out a list of the indignities her song’s character has suffered—the guitar lurks behind the words until finally pushing its way to the front, laying into a muted, distorted howl as emotional as any solo this side of The Pretenders’ “Time the Avenger.” McCue has been in and out of bands since launching her career in the mid-’90s, but it’s on her own—with producer-bassist Dusty Wakeman and a succession of studio drummers—that she’s been able to muscle up and put across her specific roots-rock vision.
McCue has a gift for catchy pop songs with memorable riffs, like Roll’s Dire Straits-y album opener “I Want You Back.” But her best songs are the ones that stretch past five minutes, like “Milkman’s Daughter,” “Where the Darkness Grows” and the spooky, epic “Ballad of an Outlaw Woman,” where McCue has room to let her textured guitar-play spread out and create rolling, richly populated landscapes of sound.
- Noel Murray
RELIX
April/May 2004
Anne McCue
Roll
Messenger Records
Anne McCue’s U.S. Debut falls somewhere in line with fellow Aussie-born Kasey Chambers’ frequently self-deprecating, roosty appeal but with less twang and more grit. After the first two tracks drag a bit, McCue finds her voice with the achingly honest “Stupid” and progresses brilliantly into melodic streams and pensive songwriting (“Crazy Beautiful Child” and “50 Dollar Whore.”) She unabashedly proclaims “You’re so delicious at the start/List compounded in the heart” in “Tiny Little Song” and tackles folkish down-home charm with “Milkman’s Daughter.” A guitar slinger to boot, McCue shows on the album’s final cuts that she can fuzz things up a notch with blues-based ruckus, closing with a beefy rendition of Hendrix’s “Machine Gun.” Already lauded by Lucinda Williams and a host of other influential singer/songwriters, McCue shows herself on Roll to be a viable new talent.
- Douglas Waterman
THE ONION
April 1-7, 2004
REVIEWS IN BRIEF
Ann McCue’s second record, Roll (Messenger), proves the value of fiery guitar playing to archy singer/songwriter material, as the Aussie lets her instrument roll; behind her vocals, expressing with contained metallic fury what her words only suggest. McCue can write normal-length songs, like the album-opening “I Want You back,” but she’s best in long form on the title track and “Milkman’s Daughter,” where she has more room for solos.
LA WEEKLY
www.laweekly.com
March 4, 2004
MUSIC: SCORING THE CLUBS
Chris Whitley, Anne McCue at Club Lingerie.
Folk-rocker Anne McCue is an Australian with a punk past, yet she’s got more all-American authenticity than a dozen Martina McBrides. McCue pours blood all over the tracks on her new Roll, singing of death and lust and sin and regret and whores and Gandhi. She possesses a poignantly plaintive voice and multiranged guitar chops that swing from tasty Delta blues to stinging slide chordings to fat feedbacked riffs (dig her cover of Hendrix’s “Machine Gun”!). She’s toured with Lucinda Williams, one of her influences, and fans of L.W. will adore McCue. Headliner Chris Whitley has traveled a similarly skewed musical map for many years. He too is an extraordinary guitarist and singer who’s redefined the Delta blues in a uniquely personal way. Both artists prove that roots music remains a very active and unexhausted mine.
- Michael SimmonsAMAZON.COM
www.amazon.comEditorial Reviews
Amazon.com
Like countrywoman Kasey Chambers , Australian Anne McCue has brought modern American roots music back toward its source. Resounding with little more than rocking guitar and a tight rhythm section, Roll does just what the title says, cruising along with the sense of swing that distinguishes great rock & roll from its often more leaden relative, rock. Perhaps in tribute to McCue's staunchest supporter, the Lucinda Williams -styled "I Want You Back" opens the proceedings. Two tracks down the road comes the even better "Stupid," an infectious warning against listening too hard to others opinions, a track that is destined to be a mainstay of AAA radio. This is as varied, insightful, melodic, and just plain listenable a collection of compositions as you are likely to hear in 2004--expect coverage by other artists. Though assaying a Hendrix tune ("Machine Gun") at this stage of her technical development might be hubris, her guitar work in general is unfailingly interesting, appropriate, and tonally luxurious. Anne McCue is definitely one to watch.
-Michael Ross
BARNES & NOBLE (BN.COM)
http://music.barnesandnoble.com
Reviews
Barnes & Noble
A newcomer from Down Under, singer-songwriter Anne McCue makes an auspicious debut with the gripping Roll . While the heavy twang and sludgy sound recall Kim Richey 's early albums, McCue's sleepy drawl and cosmic ennui summon the spirit of Lucinda Williams , and the edgy rockers suggest Sheryl Crow . Among McCue's many talents is guitar playing, and her assured, lyrical style is the perfect complement to the dramas unfolding in her diary-like lyrics, which reach for such big ideas as mortality, love, and vengeance. Her six-string work also jibes easily with Roll 's captivating soundscapes -- crafted by McCue and producer Dusty Wakeman -- which shapeshift from roiling guitar solos and ferocious, pounding drums at one extreme to minimalist instrumentation designed to conjure moody, foreboding mise en scenes at the other. "Hangman" gets by on little more than an insistent, burbling organ figure and McCue's bursts of electric slide, whereas the insinuating, jazzy lilt of her curling guitar figure lends "Milkman's Daughter" a light, carefree feel that's at odds with the lyrics' complex emotions. On "Ghandi," sinister, thumping drums and foreboding, piercing shards of guitar riffs propel McCue's bittersweet musings on good intentions gone horribly awry ("I wanted to be like Ghandi / but I turned out like Hitler") -- what the lyrics don't say, the music more than fills in. In an audacious move, McCue closes out the proceedings with a ferocious reading of Jimi Hendrix's "Machine Gun," complete with some crunching guitar work of no small moment. Roll positions McCue in the interesting niche of being both a captivating singer-songwriter probing serious personal issues and an inventive instrumentalist whose voice also demands to be heard.
-David McGee
PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER
www.philly.com
Posted on Sun, Feb. 22, 2004
RECORD REVIEWS
Anne McCue
Roll
(Messenger ***1/2)
Anne McCue is the latest to get the Lucinda Williams imprimatur of "my new favorite artist." The young Australian earns the accolades with an album of songs that stretch from urgent to world-weary with bracing bluntness.
The unsparing lyrics match the stripped-down musical approach, a rock-trio format accented by organ, accordion and banjo. Unlike Williams, however, McCue handles all the guitar-playing herself, and by the time the country blues of "Ballad of an Outlaw Woman" segues into the hidden bonus track, a nine-minute freakout on Hendrix's "Machine Gun," it's obvious she is more than up to the task.
PHILADELPHIA DAILY NEWS
www.philly.com
On cue
Australian export Anne McCue has sure taken the circuitous career route - from art school grad in Sydney to Runaways/Patti Smith style punk rocker in Girl Monster, then on to Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam with a cover band trio appropriately called Apocalypse Now.
Eventually, McCue landed in the United States to join a "female Crosby, Stills & Nash"-style group called Eden aka that played Lilith Fair but never saw its Columbia album released (an all-too-common occurrence).
Frustrated, McCue split off and found her way to Nashville-land, where Lucinda Williams heard a gritty affinity in her solo music and invited Anne on her tour as opening act.
McCue's new album, "Roll" (Messenger Records), reflects a bit on all her past associations. It's a compelling effort - at turns hard-nosed and soft-stroking, rocking and twangy - with McCue's consistently vital material, emotive vocals and great guitar work.
I'm especially nuts for the anthemic "Crazy Beautiful Child," the darkly perverse "Gandhi" and barrels-blasting "Ballad of an Outlaw Woman." But make your own call.
