Imaginary Television

For over 30 years, Graham Parker has been slinging a signature sound across continents and airwaves that has rightly earned him a spot in the pantheon of truly original and influential figures in rock and roll. Since his early days with his band the Rumour (with whom he has two albums in Rolling Stone's "Top 100 Albums of All Time"), Graham has coupled punk's energy with his deeply rooted love of American R&B, country and soul music. He's got a snotty barroom brawler's rasp and sneer, a soulman's swagger and an ear for indelible hooks and pop songcraft.

On 'Imaginary Television', his fourth studio record for Bloodshot (and 20th overall in a 30+ year career), Graham Parker combines indelible hooks, penchant for the British blues-rock revival with a touch of the reggae and biting political commentary to produce an incredibly solid record. Channeling Them-era Van Morrison, New York style Lou Reed, and the omnipresent Bob Dylan, 'Imaginary Television' might be a concept record, but like American Songwriter wrote around Graham's last record, he "hasn't changed his sunglasses or his approach." Bruce Springsteen once said that the only band he'd pay to see live was Graham Parker and The Rumour, and Graham's renegade spirit and ear for hooks have only sharpened over the years. Songs like "Broken Skin," which roundabout tells the story of hard-luck fork lift driver Brandine Van Hooven's life in a Wyoming strip mining outpost, not only work as TV themes, but as instant favorites and declarations of sympathy for the working class. As the lyrics go, "There's not enough money in this whole world to pay for a break or two." The Randy Newman-esque "Bring Me a Heart Again" puts listeners in the mind of a ragtag private eye, wandering the Lower East Side looking for the love he's not even sure he's capable of anymore and oftentimes working for clients who are as sleazy as the people they want investigated. "Snowgun" not only works as a theme for an IFC character-based drama about a snowboarding bum Hideo Smith and his crew of laid back associates, but as a slow burning Band-style jam, perfect for crisp days on the slopes.

The songs are far from literal, though. 'Imaginary Television's tongue-in-cheek lyrical takes on political differences, everyday life and even the constant but infuriating nature of the Weather Channel aren't just astoundingly accurate boob-tube ditties, but sharp and very, very listenable.