Medicine Man

Based in the picturesquely ramshackle seaside town of Venice, CA, singer/songwriter Dan Janisch sounds like the sort of folkie who has spent more than a few hours on the city's busker-heavy piers. But the incorporation of pop, blues, country and unidentifiable other elements in Janisch's primarily acoustic songs is impossible to fit into a particular stylistic niche, and he's certainly not just another aging sidewalk performer: many of the nine songs on Medicine Man are genuinely interesting takes on a long and storied folk-rock tradition. Despite the somewhat hackneyed lyrics, the opening title track is a rollicking, catchy tune powered by a terrific slide-guitar hook, just the sort of thing one would expect from a Reprise Records singer/songwriter back in the label's Laurel Canyon days. On many of the songs, in fact, Janisch shows a startling vocal similarity to, of all people, Arlo Guthrie: the resemblance is most obvious on the singsongy chorus of the Noah parable "Big Trip," although the rest of the tune sounds oddly like early Tom Waits. Elsewhere, songs like the hushed ballad "Sweet and Simple" and the mopey Dylan-like ramble "The Strongest Man (That Ever Lived)" are more reminiscent of talented '70s also-rans like Elliott Murphy or Steve Forbert. Janisch compares more to his forebears of a generation ago not because of any particular old-fashioned quality of his songs, but because Medicine Man's casually mellow production and simple, tasty arrangements (dig the absurdly prominent cowbell and Waddy Wachtel-style guitar solo on the wry, jaunty "Sayonara Chinatown," not to mention the freaky vintage synth solo straight out of Del Shannon's "Runaway") owe little to the more studied sound of his alt-folk peers. Prior ownership of at least three albums on the Asylum label is strongly recommended for full appreciation, but Medicine Man is a solid singer/songwriter offering.