A Realization

I have to say, looking back at the archived posts on this blog, I looked like a real fool back when "Robotron2084" and "Count Smackula" were prancing around. Here I've been, the entire time, writing fawning, sycophantic album reviews and dealing in non sequiturs. I admit it, there ain't no such thing as objectivity and Led Zeppelin IV is at best, a mediocre record about dwarves and dragons, and at worst, a terrible record about Robert Plant's penis.

A Different Breed of Album Review

Nirvana – In Utero

I’ll give Kurt Cobain credit for one thing – he didn’t try to make another Nevermind. The other predictable response would have been to make an artsy, pretentious record – he didn’t do that either. What he did do was make an album of grunge sludge where the hooks sink into the morass of detuned guitars and banshee howls. But it works mostly – the lyrics are direct and painful, the songs are still well-written, if lacking in the inescapable pop hooks of the album’s predecessor. Still, with only two outstanding tracks (the spiraling “Heart-Shaped Box” and the closer “All Apologies”), and too many slowed-down Nevermind retreads (“Rape Me,” “Dumb”), In Utero will only work for you if you really empathize with Cobain – personally, it ain’t my cup of (pennyroyal) tea.

7.7

Of Montreal – Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?

Of Montreal are polished purveyors of pop, there’s no doubt about that. They’ve updated the British pop sound of the 60s, with lush waves of electronics sparked with quirky rhythms and polyester sass. Word is that this is a break-up album, but apart from the 11-minute centerpiece “The Past is a Grotesque Animal,” the lyrics are too self-consciously clever to garner any real emotion. Therefore, I judge this album based on its hooks and according to my ear, the second half of the album has plenty of pomp, but drifts by without any really memorable melodies. After the emotional outburst of TPIAGA (fucking song titles) – Kevin Barnes and co. sound positively drained. Still, kudos to the first six tracks, especially the wondrous “A Sentence of Sorts in Kongsvinger” – now there’s a hook.

7.2

Wilco – Summerteeth

On this record, Wilco master the art of sounding like a great fucking pop band. Witness a song like “ELT” with keyboard lines straight from the heavens and the energy of a band that has mastered the art of rocking. Tracks like “She’s a Jar” do Brian Wilson proud by taking plaintive singer/songwriter tunes and twisting them inside out with haunting synthesizers and offbeat structures. We also get the anthemic side of Wilco with the opening rocker “Can’t Stand It” and the simple, but dreamy “I’m Always in Love,” built around another winner of a synth line. Wilco successfully integrates their alt-country sound with the ambitions of a Brian Wilson here – melding electronic soundscapes with Jeff Tweedy’s requisite honesty and directness. I’ll admit not all their songs live up to the sublime bliss of their arrangements, especially on the second half, but it’s still a worthy record.

8.8

Speaking of Ween

GodWeenSatan: The Oneness is thought of as a bad album by some of my closest friends and other people I respect. Do they hear the same things I hear? Sure it's incredibly obnoxious, but how can one deny the art and feeling behind the music? Criticize it for being too sprawling, but don't ignore the positives altogether. I was intrigued by this album right away, intrigued by the band's unparalleled ability to turn the stupidest songs in the world into the best. Moreover, the position that Ween would be better if they weren't fucking around all the time is the position of someone who should stop listening to Ween. If they weren't fucking around, they'd just be Paul McCartney. What matters is their ability to bring something new, something interesting to the 1990s, and I'm convinced they did that with this album.
As far as I'm concerned, the first 15 minutes of this album are flawless. The most famous track on the album might be "You Fucked Up." What other band opens their hearts to the world by deliriously screaming "You fucked up, you stupid Nazi whore?" The screams Gene Ween emits (or is it Dean?) actually convey the intensity dozens of rock bands have tried for and failed. The irony is that Ween is parodying hardcore music, but in so doing, their instinctive grasp of art turn their parody into something that eclipses the genre from which it comes. The songs that follow immediately are no let down, if bizarre. "Tick" alternates between a snappy pop number and more frenzied screaming. The result: the catchiest song I've ever heard. From there, Ween hit up bebop, grunge, and whatever the fuck they want ("I'm in the Mood to Move"). In so doing, they make me grateful that the guitar is their primary choice of rock instrument. No flashy solos, but the perfect supplementary parts are chosen in every case. See the ringing guitar that comes in halfway through "Cold and Wet."
Just when you don't know what to think, Ween gives a glimpse to the other side with "Don't Laugh (I Love You)." Sung in an annoying high-pitched voice, it also happens to be a perfect pop song, and when they reach the obligatory guitar solo, and instead sing the solo in a guitar-like style, what should be an annoying vocal effect reaches through to my soul. Ween may seem unfocused and juvenile, but through the entire record, they hold a few things constant, great songwriting, a mastery of form, and most importantly, heart. Ween have a better approximation of heart than most groups. They don't wear it on their sleeve, they keep it under their ribcage where it belongs.
I'll admit, the album isn't totally consistent, but I don't care all that much, since they would go on to make albums that were consistent. I could say a lot more about the album, since it features two 9-minute songs that show that you can use one musical idea for a long song and get away with it. All you need is a vocalist and guitarist who don't know how to repeat themselves. And oh yeah, a vocalist and guitarist who are the best melody-writers since the Beatles. See the devastating "Birthday Boy," featuring the rarity of rarities, a sincere vocal delivery. But maybe more importantly, it's got a melody that tore my heart in two the first time I heard it. I still haven't stopped crying inside. And I'll never stop loving this album.

New News!

a foul gem discovered on Amazon.com -- a Jim DeRogatis review!

Amazon.com
Those of us who worship at the Church of Ween (Hail to the great god Boognish!) know that skinny blond twerp Beck stole his whole shtick from New Jersey musical geniuses Dean and Gene. Always ahead of their time, the brothers Ween have responded by abandoning their traditional lo-fi four-track recording methods and giving us their lushest album yet, Chocolate and Cheese. Not that Ween's fourth effort is polished; that adjective could never describe an album that veers wildly from acoustic Mexican folk songs, to pure '70s disco, to the appropriately named single, "I Can't Put My Finger On It." But Chocolate and Cheese may come even closer than "Push Th' Little Daisies" to fulfilling Dean's goal of establishing Ween as the next Counting Crows. --Jim DeRogatis

Don't Drive Drunk

No don't drive drunk
Don't drive drunk, no
Don't drive drunk
Mothers Against Drunk Drivers are mad!!!

Marquee Moon

I'm not sure how much I have to add to the Marquee Moon fellatio-fest, for what is my tongue worth really? It's pretty short and non-descript. But the hype is pretty well-founded as far as I'm concerned. I'm not sure if it's necessarily one of my all-time favorite albums, which requires more months to decide and is also a more arbitrary selection. I am sure that this is the rare album where every track is really damn good, the rare album where almost nothing rubs the wrong way, where things seem almost flawless. This is indie before indie. Even though I try to make breathless proclamations like that R.E.M.'s Murmur was the first 'indie' album, it was really probably the Velvet Underground or someone like that. But at any rate, Television also falls into that 'indie before indie' vein, especially given their influence on the 107.1 playlist, an influence that seems even more pronounced than VU or REM's.
For those who don't know, Television was a 'post-punk' group who released two albums or so, and broke up, because they were never able to hit it big on radio. At any rate, like the VU's debut album, Marquee Moon, Television's debut, over time picked up a critical audience, picked up indie cred, and by now, you will see nothing below a 5-star review for it.
And unlike some sacred cows, I can't help feeling that it deserves all its praise. What's most often noted is its guitar work, and yeah, it's pretty much the best guitar album I've ever heard, although I'm just throwing praise around emptily. I haven't actually considered what albums I have that would rival it in guitarwork. Anyways, two guitarists, one to play rhythm, one to play lead, both on electric, and every song has riffs that grab you right away, but most impressively, soloes that mean something, that set mood, that build, that just don't wank around. Better yet, the guitar work is complementary, not the main focus. Each song is tightly-written, all with moments of introspective lyrical beauty. The album gets under your skin immediately with three thrilling, fast-paced rockers, but over the second half of the album, the mood becomes more slow and depressed, allowing Television to prove that they could write expert ballads ("Guiding Light," "Torn Curtain") as well as they could handle a jagged up-tempo number ("Friction").
The centerpiece of the album is its title track, which some have labeled one of the 10 or 20 best songs ever written. I don't know if I would go that far in the hype, although we'll see where I rank it whenever I get around to doing a Top 100 songs list again. It starts out in similar fashion to the fast songs, but moves at a much slower pace. Weirdly, this approach doesn't work on me quite as well as any of the other songs, although the melodies and riffs certainly aren't any less lacking. I'm just not as big a fan of the slowed-down rock song that isn't a ballad, but isn't the same thing as a balls-out rock song either. Whatever little criticisms I might have though are indeed wiped away by the solo section of the song. This is the one time where Television lets the solo dominate the song, as indeed, guitarists Tom Verlaine and Richard Lloyd solo for some five minutes. And yet, it's completely encapsulating. They use distortion at all the right moments, and Verlaine unleashes a solo that never stops building in intensity, as Lloyd and the rhythm section play louder and more frenzied. It hits its culmination with a thunderous riff, and then the band achieves a moment of utter majesty. The guitars fade away, pianos play softly in the background, and some instrument, maybe Verlaine's guitar, plays the most beautiful notes. It's maybe just two notes at a time, but even the sound itself is gorgeous. I guess what I'm saying is that about.com needs to revise their top 100 guitar soloes list and put this on there, and probably pretty damn high. To compare to another long solo, I think it makes "Freebird" look like a joke, and that was like #2 or #3 on about.com's list.
If you want some flaws in this album, there are a few, but you can find a flaw with anything. Each song does pretty much have the same structure, and although they keep things fresh with consistently great songwriting, Television definitely lacks in diversity. I feel like they use the same chord changes to switch to the pre-chorus buildup and to the chorus in just about every song, although it doesn't really bother me. Also, some people have criticized Tom Verlaine's singing voice, as he does sound fairly whiny, but I dig it. Sincerity matters more than skill, and his voice is hardly unlistenable. I will also allow that their choruses are just excuses to get back into riffing again, but sometimes that works really well, like on "See No Evil." All minor flaws, with songs so good, so basically, this is a great album, and highly recommended.

Postscript:
Should I do album ratings again? I'm torn. I don't even know what scale I would use. Definitely not the 15 scale, because I have no idea how to assign 14's and 15's. Marquee Moon is an obvious 5 star album, but that only makes it an obvious 13 on the 15 scale, and I have a terrible time deciding which 5-star albums are better than the others. I almost wouldn't mind a letter grading system. On the other hand, I wouldn't want the rating to dominate the review, but that assumes that I write anything worth reading to begin with.

Grace

At 1:30 this morning, I decided to revisit Jeff Buckley's Grace, the defining album of a good year of my life back in high school; my sophomore year I believe. It was one of the big transitional records for me in terms of expanding my musical palette and not just listening to the same old 90's alternative retreads. However, when certain reviewing criteria became imprinted in my brain, I found myself dismissing the emotional charms of this album because I reasoned that when you got down to it, the album consisted of a bunch of slow, hookless songs that all kind of sounded the same. Well, I think I was wrong. Anyways, a review:

All great albums need a certain unquantifiable 'artistic vision'. Most albums have a generic sound, and other albums try to rebel against the status quo and fall flat on their faces. A good album will have at the least its own personality whereas a great album will have its own vision. Jeff Buckley's Grace very obviously has its own personality. If one tried to describe it, one would have a hard time pointing to a genre it was supposed to fit into. To a lot of people, it will sound like dull, meandering music, which in a certain sense it is. A lot of the album is based around pretty ballads that don't have any particular melody, forcing the listener to be enthralled by Buckley's voice and lyrics, or else suffocate from the boredom. Yet right away this initial description leaves a lot out of the picture. Jeff Buckley, as a songwriter, favored a sort of spontaneous catharsis, preferring to utilize a lot of heavy dynamic shifts. The ethereal backing on some of the songs suddenly gives way into a louder, rocking sound as Buckley moves from a whisper to a fiery wail. At this point, the genre is impossible to discern. Grace falls into the rock category somewhere, with its emphasis on intricate guitar lines, but moves everywhere from an atonal detuned guitar section in "So Real" to a cover of a 50's pop standard ("Lilac Wine"), while still sort of sounding the same.
Being so hard to mark down, Grace has personality, which is the first step towards a great album. However, Jeff Buckley (who drowned before releasing a 2nd album) did not secure a lasting legacy because of an album where he took a big first step towards being great. He commands a fawning fanbase of rock critics because this one album was indeed a great one. Why great? Because it manages to succeed without any hooks, any pop trappings. The melodies are not the point; Buckley's songwriting is based strictly around the ebb and flow of the song. He often eschews traditional song structure, following whatever the hell pattern he feels like. What results is that most of the songs on the album contain something intangibly magical; at least one sublime moment that suddenly transforms a boring love song into an emotional tour de force. Maybe it's the voice, as Buckley was a vocal talent without peer. Listen to "Lilac Wine," where he captures raw emotion in each note, taking his beautiful, but unsettling voice to new heights. Maybe it's the lyrics, which are fairly poetic, and tell the same old broken-heart stories in fresh ways. Most likely though, it appears that Buckley just had an inner sense that told him when (and how) to raise and diffuse the tension of a song, building things up to create masterpieces of mood, to capture the spontaneous catharsis that he had envisioned. And it is this vision that makesGrace a great album, even if the second half is weaker than the first, even if all the songs do kind of sound the same. It comes across beautifully on its own terms, and there's not too much more to ask for besides that.

Scandalous

So with the beautiful thing that is iTunes music sharing, I have had the "pleasure" of listening to two fairly popular modern albums, thus making me "cool" and "hip." I will also use totally arbitrary "star" (out of five) ratings, thus making me ridiculous.

The Killers- Hot Fuss

You know, apparently someone makes shirts that say "Ms. Brightside" or something. That should tell me something, but it doesn't really. The Killers hooks are engaging in the sense that beach novels are engaging. Not teasing us with hints of greatness. Just some decent, poppy hooks that strut like a twelve-year old does- too much ego, and not well-deserved. The music's fairly catchy, but when trying to recall songs, they all blend together. Hot Fuss's texture is too consistent, dulling my senses, lacking sufficient awesomeness to really captivate my attention. But at least it's better than Weezer. (2.05/5)

Coldplay- X&Y

At least they lasted two albums until they sold out. Oh wait... Coldplay are deliberately and consciously trying to shed their modest, nice guy appearance. This album shows my darling Chris and the boys donning sunglasses, slicking back their hair, and turning on the bright lights. Problem is, the transition doesn't really work. After several listens, I find myself more than happy to get the album over with. The wholesomeness, purity, and touch of innocence that graced Parachutes and A Rush of Blood to the Head have gone the way of the cute attempts at getting interesting guitar textures. Out of Coldplay's sound. Speed of Sound is an inferior Clocks. This is Coldplay's equivalent of U2's October. It's not really offensive, and still kicks the crap out of Maroon 5 or whatever the kids are listening to these days. I can only hope that there will be analogues to War and The Joshua Tree to come. (2.35/5)

On Ben Folds: I don't get the attraction of this guy. U2 were blowing their collective wads on every song on their debut, Boy, but Ben Folds trumps their ego and pretension. Everything oversung, as if every song has to both open and close a concert. And if we look past the bombast, we really don't find anything very useful. If "Rockin' the Suburbs" is intended as a hillarious, self-depreiciating, ironic blast of social commentary it doesn't work. It just sounds like a particularly egregious amount of wanking. (Ben Folds gets a 1.35/5 official rating)
(On wanking: Personally, I don't have much of a problem in principle with two-minute guitar solos or a sea of reverb. But without much good stuff to deal with, long solos and studio tricks are wasted.)

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Point the Second: I really feel I lack Jerry's ability to make serious comparisons across the genres, specifically between "rock" and "classical." How am I supposed to compare Abbey Road to Dvorak's 9th? The ways I think about the two genres are too separate for me. I mean, if you put a gun to my head, I would say that I think that Radiohead's Kid A is about as good as Beethoven's 6th Symphony, but I can't make any comparisons.

Also, U2's "All Along the Watchtower" kinda sucks (Unabashed ego without Eno saving their behinds). But this is what comes from having Hendrix's tantalizing version.