Receive Weekly Email and Text Message Updates:
Sign up for latest info on concerts, dining, promotions and more!
Go!

Most Popular

Reader's Picks

Top Recommendations

A short list of Phoenix's most popular hot spots.
user content provided by: LikeMe.net & Phoenix New Times

National Features >

  • City Pages

    Michele Bachmann, Unmuzzled

    You don't need to read Sarah Palin's book to hear the ravings of a mad woman.

    By Matt Snyders

  • Miami New Times

    Pimp Daddy

    The rise and fall of a chubby sex-cult leader.

    By Natalie O'Neill

  • Riverfront Times

    Babe 'n' Arms

    Tom was a hot-tempered cross-dresser with a garage full of guns--and then he became Rachel.

    By Nicholas Phillips

  • Dallas Observer

    The Fight for Texas

    Rick Perry and Kay Bailey Hutchison are locked in a battle over the soul of the GOP. They're also running for governor.

    By Sam Merten

The Wiley One

No. 7 Kid
(www.thewileyone.com)

Share

  • rss

By Niki D'Andrea

Published on November 14, 2007 at 4:02pm

Sammy Wiley, a.k.a. The Wiley One, is the brother of Cristiana Cole and Marta Wiley (of local esoteric rock group W.O.M.B.), and judging by his new CD, there's some serious talent in the genes. Wiley's album opens with "Possibilities," an upbeat acoustic song reminiscent of Jack Johnson's work on Brushfire Fairytales, then moves on to bouncy folk-ska with "False Reality." Wiley's guitar-playing harks back to the hard pick-and-pluck style of players like Nick Drake (minus the morose vibes), but all the songs here are driven by springy reggae beats and positive panache. "Open the Lock" sails along on a booming dancehall beat, mixed with rap and oh-oh-ee-oo vocals not unlike those the Police used on "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic," while "The Beer Song" displays the kind of funky swagger usually reserved for stumbling downstairs after a Saturday night spent drinking and doing things you don't remember on Sunday morning. Not every track is a standout ("No. 7 Kid" sounds too much like a 311 song), but tunes like "Vampire Scars" — with its lovely, languid synths, breathy vocals, and pulsing beats — more than fill the gaps.