Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Now's as good a time as any to do some catching up, especially in the writing department, as a number of pieces of mine have surfaced over the last few weeks.
The newest piece just popped up today, actually, a review of the cool new CD by DC melodeath faves Darkest Hour. I've always had a soft spot for the band, going back to Undoing Ruin, but 2009's The Eternal Return was a big disappointment, the band ditching the hooks for brutality, resulting in a very generic, boring piece of work. This time around they hooked up with Peter Wichers of Soilwork (a band they love to rip off), and he has them back on track, delivering loads of catchy riffs and melodies. If you like this sort of thing, I highly recommend it.
At PopMatters, installment #54 of Blood & Thunder went up, and it's a good one, a feature on Canadian band Cauldron, whose new album has been one of my favourites of the years so far. I had a fun conversation with singer/bassist Jason Decay way back in early December, chatting about how the new record is heavily derived from Dokken and Scorpions, and talking about obscure Canadian metal bands. It's funny, he mentioned how he'd been obsessed with the old band Reckless but being only 30 years old, he never saw them, and he was pretty flabbergasted when I said I did! And in digging around looking for old reckless clips, I found some insane footage from when they played Saskatoon at the exhibition in 1985. It was the day of Live Aid, I missed all that, instead I was watching a goofy metal band cover "Mississippi Queen" in front of about 30 kids. It was fun, they were in fact a pretty good band, but I was a bit bummed I missed Judas Priest and the Sabbath/Zeppelin reunions. Anyway, read my article here.
At PopMatters I also have a review of the new album by the always enjoyable, ever-reliable Motorhead. As always is the case with Motorhead, it's not what the album sounds like, you know exactly what it's going to sound like, but just how inspired Lemmy happens to be at the moment. His songwriting is on auto-pilot as ever, but his band is so good, with longtime sidekick Phil Campbell and ace drummer Mikkey Dee, that they make it all work, despite the fact that Lemmy is really repeating himself these days. The first few tracks on The World is Yours are fabulous examples of how great Motorhead can still be: "Born to Lose", "I Know How to Die", "Get Back in Line"...all first-rate stuff from the guys. I'm not a big fan of mid-album tracks "Rock 'n' Roll Music" and "Waiting For the Snake", but the album redeems itself in a big way with "Brotherhood of Man", an "Orgasmatron" rip-off so blatant, it's borderline comical. Or it would be, if Lemmy didn't sound so darn convincing. Anyway my review's here. If you like Motorhead, you won't dislike this one.
I have plenty more stuff ready for publication at PopMatters in the coming weeks, so watch for those. The next couple months will be loaded with cool new releases. Always exciting.
Over at Decibel, though I've been churning out the reviews at a decent rate, I have a pretty minimal presence in the new issue. There's a feature on Abysmal Dawn, whose new album is a big improvement over anything they've done previously. If you like death metal that's slick, technical, brutal, and catchy at the same time, you'll dig Leveling the Plane of Existence. I review the latest by Dutch melodeath mainstays God Dethroned, an album I like quite a bit. Sadly, the band announced their split last week, which is sad considering they were on a nice creative roll as of late. I also review the second album by Metal Blade hypees Lazarus AD...their last album was all about the thrash, but now they're all about the post-thrash, going all Ritual-era Testament and early Machine Head on us. Which is fine, I enjoy it, the songs are catchy enough. Not a bad move in my opinion, there are worse bands to emulate. Though like I say in the review, as long as they don't rip off The Burning Red on the next one...
I had so much fun defending Judas Priest's Turbo back in January that I had to another installment of the Deciblog's "Justify Your Shitty Taste", so I tackled Iron Maiden's The X-Faxtor. People like to dump on Maiden's Blaze Bayley albums, but I think they're pretty decent, with even some true classic moments, and I had a blast revisiting a record that I totally blew off in 1995 and only came to appreciate maybe nine years ago. That said, if you were to ask me what Iron Maiden's creative nadir would be, I'd say "Virus". For such an uncompromising band, to see them lash out at critics like that was a sad thing to witness. Totally beneath them.
I haven't been plugging my Terrorizer writing because I had yet to receive an issue, but lo and behold, last week the new one arrived! So that's nice. Anyhoo, I have a feature review of the new Belphegor CD, another strong album by then. I tend to take Belphegor for granted, they're always "good" but not "great", but the new record is very solid indeed...I'm glad someone forced me to listen to it more than once! It delivers...especially "Discipline Through Punishment". There's also a feature review of Korpiklaani's new one. They were churning out the humppa at such a crazy pace that I felt the songwriting was starting to suffer on their last two albums, and it's clear with the couple years between the last album and the new one has done wonders for the Finnish band, as it's full of life (and alcohol) once again, fun, catchy, and always underscored by a subtle touch of melancholy. Good stuff. I think it's next month's issue where I'm not in it at all, the window to write reviews happened right during the cruise. But no worries, I have loads of stuff appearing after that, including a big article on a band I've admired for a long time. Interview's on Wednesday in fact!
Meanwhile, over at Hellbound, they've been kind enough to reprint two feature pieces from 2005 about the then-new (now out of print) Motorhead re-releases. I was surprised to find out that the twits over at Static Multimedia (I won't link, they don't deserve any extra hits) got rid of everything I wrote there over the course of a couple years. Anyway, here's Part One, and here's Part Two, as I delve deeply into Motorhead's prolific, surprisingly diverse 1979-1987 period.
Everyone's still abuzz about the new Radiohead album, so I might as well chip in my two cents. It's boring. Not inept, and certainly not repellent, but just so monochrome compared to pretty much everything else the band has ever released, including the pretentious Hail to the Thief I think what bugs me most about The King of Limbs is that the arrangements are so low-key that it places Thom Yorke's voice more prominently than ever before, and quite frankly, though I've listened to the band as long as everyone else has, his singing is the band's weakest asset. I'm always on the fence with the dude...sometimes he can sound sublime, but when he has no hooks to work with, it just becomes unbearable, mumbling and moaning along aimlessly, trying to find a vocal melody in a song that just isn't there. As a prescient young lady once said, waah, waah, waah. He's no Damo Suzuki, he can't sell jibberish on record. There are moments I actually like on the new album, namely the tense "Morning Mister Magpie" (man, do they ever flaunt the Can influence on that track), and "Lotus Flower" has the album's most prominent hook, but the rest is simply unmemorable. Coming off the nice surprise that was In Rainbows, this album drops with a dead thud. I'm just glad it's not any longer than eight songs. Anyone who gives this one a nine out of ten ought to have his or her head examined, I'm sorry.
PJ Harvey's Let England Shake, meanwhile, really threw me for a loop. Autoharp instead of guitar, an affected, coquettish, girly singing style, weird references to other songs (everything from "Istanbul Not Constantinople" to "Summertime Blues"), even weirder samples, bizarre song structures, and lyrics preoccupied with the effect war has had on her country. The first time I heard it, I didn't know what to make of it. The second time, my ears perked up. I like the even-keeled title track, the Nick cave-ish "The Last Living Rose" with its clunky saxophone...and when "The Glorious Land" came on (there's a Can rip-off that works), bizarre bugle sample and all, I was totally engrossed. And every time I put the CD on, the deeper into the album I go, the more I discover. "All and Everyone", for instance, that song is gorgeous. This past weekend's review by Kot and DeRogatis, meanwhile was strange, Dero was absolutely hostile, while Kot was damning with faint praise. I couldn't disagree more. This strange, kooky little album feels like it's going to have some real staying power.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Lingering in the back of my mind was the question of just how well the first-ever 70,000 Tons of Metal cruise would work. To stage a big metal fest is one thing, but to do it on a ship is another matter entirely. There were just so many more variables that could potentially go wrong. Nearly ten days after arriving back home from that crazy six day trip, I'm still amazed at just how well everything went. I mean, totally without a hitch. Okay, there were the odd hiccups, largely with live sets starting on time, but even then it was never that bad from a spectator's perspective. In fact, I'll say it right now, it was the best metal event I have ever attended, and I'm sure my travel buds (and fellow Hellbound writers) Sean, Kevin, and Albert would agree. It was pretty much perfect.
There's not much need for me to go into the bands' performances since I've already done that at great length over at Hellbound, which I've linked to below. In a nutshell, I saw 33 of the 40 bands at the fest, which isn't too shabby. Some great, some good, some not so good, but thankfully the great far, far outnumbered the not so good. But if you were to ask me what my favourite acts after the cruise were, I'd say Amon Amarth, Saxon, Voivod, Raven, Tyr, Testament, Rage, Uli Jon Roth, Forbidden, Destruction, and Sonata Arctica. Rage and Forbidden were huge surprises, while Saxon and Uli Jon Roth absolutely floored me. Especially Saxon, who arguably turned in the two best performances on the entire cruise. But for more details on the whole experience, I highly suggest you take a look at Hellbound's thorough 70,000 Tons recap:
Day One: Miami and the first day and night on the ship
Day Two: A marathon day of metal and sunburn
Day Three: An afternoon in Cozumel and turbulence on the high seas
Day Four: Ending with the most EPIC Viking metal show ever
Clockwise from top left: Our South Beach hotel, the actual beach early in the morning, Espanola Way, Ocean Drive
I might as well post some other random thoughts here, too, such as how much I took to Miami and Miami Beach. I never had the inclination to ever travel to Florida, but I really enjoyed my short stay on the southern tip. It was fun flying over from Atlanta to Miami, we went all along the western coast before turning east at Fort Myers, right over the huge, green expanse of the Everglades (about as close as I ever want to get to the Everglades, too!). And I have never seen the ocean as blue as it is down there, it was mind-boggling. And of course when we got there I nerdily gawked at the palm trees, I'd never seen palm trees in person before. We were shown around by Kevin's friend Mitchell Luna from the band Maruta, and he took us all over, from South Beach (where it was bouncing with activity on a Sunday night), where we had some amazing pizza, to Little Haiti, to Little Havana, where we had a fabulous cheap meal at this place. Our hotel was a little art deco place right smack in South Beach, just two blocks from the actual beach, and it was neat to walk down Ocean Drive at night and see all the people, the distinct architecture, and of course the neon that conjured images of Scarface.
We were told that the summers are particularly brutal in Miami, but that place won me over because for once I felt healthy in January. I could breathe! Suddenly the notion of having to live in a place where I literally have to fight to breathe year round seemed absurd. Out on the Canadian prairies my asthma has gotten so bad that any subzero air I breathe in exacerbates it, so every day to go for a walk I have to bundle up so that everything but my eyes are covered. Right now, my deepest breath feels not much more than 50% of what should be normal. It's ridiculous, the measures I have to take to live healthily here. The ocean air does wonders for me. Healthwise, I'm meant to live anywhere but Canada. If anyone wants to offer me work in southeastern Florida, my email's on the top right of the page!
Clockwise from top left: Unloading baggage at the Port of Miami, checking in and getting our Sea Passes, boarding the ship, the view of the Port from the ship (needless to say, having never gone on a cruise I was interested in the whole boarding process)
As for the cruise itself, instead of repeating what I wrote in the Hellbound recaps above, I'll just do this…
Downtown Miami as we started to leave for Mexico
10 Reasons Why I'd Rather Go to 70,000 Tons Than Wacken or MDF
1. It's Small: The fans to bands ratio on this cruise is amazing: 40 bands, 2,000 fans, which makes it a very intimate event. With shows going on all the time, no venue was overcrowded; you could show up late for a set and still get a good spot to stand or sit. In addition, the sound quality was first-rate in all three venues.
2. It's Laid-Back: Here, you're literally traveling with all your favourite bands. You're eating alongside them, you're mingling. Even if you're not into the whole autographs-and-photos thing, it's still neat to see literally no trace of snobbery whatsoever. The bands are having as much fun as you are, and all of them are friendly.
Clockwise from top left: The view of the pool deck towards the stern, the gigantic galleria inside, the pool deck looking towards the bow, the seventh deck walkway
3. The Accommodations: Unlike a European festival, you don't have to go straggling back to your tent to sleep on the ground after a torturous day. Tired between shows? Go to the cabin for a little break. After the last show of the night, your bed is a two minute walk away. Wake up, it's up & at 'em, back instantly to the metal at hand.
4. The Expertise of the Cruise Line: Trust me, these folks know how to handle 2,000 people on a floating hotel, even boisterous metal fans. The bartenders, waiters, cooks, bus-people, and cabin stewards at Royal Caribbean were so on the ball, so efficient and friendly, it was incredible to witness. Always there to help.
Clockwise from top left: A quirky Mexican storefront, our balcony bar in Cozumel, the town square, the pier at Cozumel
5. It's Truly International: 49 countries represented! That is staggering. So although you had a large contingent of North Americans, the overall attitude is a lot more laid-back than your usual meat-head American metal fans.
6. No Band is Above Another: Sure, Testament, Amon Amarth, and fear Factory were the most popular bands on the cruise, but there was no band billed above everyone else, as lots of bands got good time slots. No venue was too overcrowded because that's who everybody came to see. The overall experience is just as important as who you see.
7. The Scenery: There's nothing quite like seeing a band play outside in the middle of the ocean. In the day, the sun and ocean are gorgeous hues of blue, at night you're watching a band under a canopy of stars, just you, your fellow metal buddies, with no one else around for hundreds of miles.
8. It's in January! There's nothing quite like taking off to see dozens of metal shows and enjoying tropical weather. The sun is brutal, but the ocean breeze on the ship deck offsets that wonderfully. The air is lovely, the warmth rejuvenating.
9. It's Safe: Are you willing to spend hundreds of dollars on an alcohol? No problem, you can do so and stagger back to your room. No driving necessary. Plus the overall vibe is so devoid of negativity that if you choose not to drink everyone's having too much fun to act like a total jerk towards anyone else. And best of all: no hardcore dancers.
Clockwise from top left: Tyr on Day Two, Ensiferum under the blazing sun, Death Angel killing it on Day Four, the great Uli Jon Roth
10. It's Worth the Money: If I go next time, I won't hesitate to pay. If you combine air fare and a cabin with three other people, you can make the trip for about 600 bucks, minimum. Compare that to Wacken, which would set you back a couple thousand dollars. Or Maryland Death Fest, which is a 0 round trip to Baltimore from where I live. Plus the European flair of 70,000 Tons made it a whole lot more appealing to me than MDF, which has a lot of great bands but a lot of death/grind filler as well. I'm really, really hoping that this becomes an annual event, because it's something I'd definitely try to do on a yearly basis!
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
I've had some pretty incredible travel opportunities over the past few years, but the one that fell into my lap over the weekend takes the cake. In a nutshell, I'll be going on the big 70,000 Tons of Metal cruise next week. A five day trip from Miami to Cozumel, Mexico, and back, with 40 metal bands playing two sets each. It's a pretty impressive bill, with a lot of variety, no "core" music of any kind, a good celebration of classic heavy metal tunes, a good mix of old and new. Anyway, three of my Hellbound cohorts are making the trip, so we'll likely be blogging like crazy from there, so watch my twitter (and Hellbound's too) for those instant reports if they happen. But as always, I'll be posting a recap of my own here when I get back after the 28th. It should be a total blast!
A couple of PopMatters reviews have sprung up recently. I did a little catching up, putting together a piece on the new Death Angel album, a record that has its moments but ultimately disappoints, producer Jason Suecof having the band sound a lot like Trivium at times, which sure doesn't sit well with any thresh old-schoolers. Still, I look forward to seeing them play on the cruise...
On the other hand, if there's one album you absolutely have to hear, it's Earth Control, by Tacoma band Owen Hart. With a pair of talented guitarists, a terrific drummer, and a vocalist who howls as intensely as Jacob Bannon, these guys already have their own identity, a very cool mix of various forms of metal. Best of all, they know how to write good songs you can remember easily, even proving capable of riffs so Slayer-like, you'd think they were lifted from an old demo from 1984. Outstanding stuff, a great way to start off the year in metal. Here's my review.
After quite a long wait, Ghost's superb debut album Opus Eponymous is out today in North America, and if you haven't heard it, do so at once, the Swedish band has a phenomenal old-school sound, a smart blend of early heavy metal and '70s hard rock, as well as undeniable hooks and straight-faced Satanic lyrics. I also have a story on the band in this month's issue of Decibel, but my email interview with the band went so well that I was left with a ton of unused quotes. So today is as good a day as any to post the interview in its entirety. The band prefers to remain anonymous and do interviews as one collective entity, but while I had no idea who I was questioning, the responses they gave were very smart, as you'll see:
Why does Ghost choose to remain anonymous?
Because we do not want for the focus to stray away from the main experience and message that we wish to deliver with Ghost.
These days with the internet allowing bands to interact with their fans, it feels like the "mystique" of heavy metal has been lost. How important is it that Ghost retains that air of mystery?
Our choice to remain anonymous is important for the well-being of the Ghost entity as a cultural phenomenon. Anybody who wishes to enjoy the Ghost experience is better off not dwelling in the thoughts of whomever does their nails? and such irrelevant nonsense. Sit back and enjoy or, as they say - fuck off.
I detect such influences as early Judas Priest, Pentagram, and Coven in your music, but what personally are the band's primary musical influences?
The music that we perform is inspired by the likes of Pink Floyd, Ennio Morricone and The Doors rather than many of the acts that a lot of people find it comfortable to compare us with.
Opus Eponymous is extraordinary because it feels so stubbornly old-fashioned, with no "modern" musical influences whatsoever. Why do you think 1970s heavy metal/hard rock conveys your Satanic message so well?
We just want to play emotionally moving and passionate music. It just so happens that a lot of bands with similar ambitions were active thirty or forty years ago.
Do you follow LaVeyan or Theistic Satanism, or do you just form your own beliefs?
Individualism is undeniably the key to world downfall, which makes LaVey's preachings somewhat in accordance to the gospels of Ghost. But then again - Ghost is about worshiping the devil, not the ego. Even though this concept, as an aesthetic organism, is a product of individualism and individuals striving to create something that is supposed to thrill minds and hearts, the message that we are submitting is painfully anti-individualistic.
Your lyrics focus primarily on your devotion to Satanism rather than just spouting anti-Christian rhetoric. Is it better to simply express your own beliefs rather than focusing on the negative aspects of someone else's?
They, the blind followers of Christian dogma, do a lot greater job at repeatedly confirming their retardation than we would ever be able to do. We are merely the red blanket of the Matador, waving in front of the dying bull. The Matador being our chief rebel angel.
Your music is insidious in the way it draws the listener in with very strong melodies, which I find a much more effective approach rather than Satanic black metal bands trying so hard to look and sound "evil". Do you think the public's perception of Satanic heavy metal been dulled by all those bands?
Well, not really, since most bands that have been openly thorough with their satanic message in the past have not had the same approach as we have when it comes to "appealing". But, if bands such as Sarcofago or Beherit had the intention to reach out to a mainstream audience in their satanic hiatus, they should definitely have hired another publicist, let alone the guidance of another producer.
I've seen clips of your live performances, and there seems to be almost a liturgical solemnity to your performance. Do you see your performances more as rituals rather than mere rock concerts?
A combination of both.
Your singer is adorned in vestments and Miter, and uses an incense thurible onstage. Are you mocking Catholicism or merely incorporating that ceremonial aspect into your own Satanic ritual?
Both. We lean on inverted symbolism mainly because most people already gravely associates the typical Catholic liturgy as something sacred and solemn and most of all - powerful. Seeing it as an already well promoted brand, it is easier to be stating an anti-statement by using its own DNA. The easiest way to make your opinion clear about what you think about fast food is not to go at lengths how horrendous it is, but by simply wearing a shirt or button that says for example MacDouche - I'm Shoving It. Besides, old school Christian imagery and symbolism is frightening as it is and we might as well have used it in order to send chills down your spine, now couldn't we?
Are you out to convert as many audience members as possible? What do you think of the kids who merely enjoy Ghost for the shock value?
Our mission is not as much about conversion as it is about underlining which path you all have chosen to go, and where it will ultimately lead you. We are the file playing back in your digital earpiece while you are carelessly approaching the end.
How did you wind up releasing Opus Eponymous on Rise Above? What do you think of working with that label so far?
We set out to find a record label that combined passion with a wee bit of brawn and most importantly - that were willing to burn in the end. This we found and we are very happy with the work that they have done so far.
Have you had any problems with your band name? Because there's a Japanese psychedelic band called Ghost that has been around for quite a long time.
The world is big enough for the both of us. Alas, minds are not.
Will you be touring North America at all in the near future?
We have cast our spell unto the whole civilized world, so we intend do go global in our mission to inform all ye poor souls about this. In other words; Yes, we will come to America.
Thanks for answering these questions, Opus Eponymous is a brilliant record!Thank you very much for your support. You will all burn in hell for reading this filth!
Thursday, January 13, 2011
The Spinanes, "Basement Galaxy"
Ten years ago today I started this blog as a bit of a lark, basically to link to nonsensical stuff I was interested in and to keep friends and family somewhat updated as to what I was doing at the moment. Nothing much more than that. I named the page after a Spinanes song I really liked way back in 1993, which back then I thought would be a great name for a zine (a much better title than, say, "I Heart That Party With the Monkey Kitty"). I had no desire to attract a lot of readers; I'd just have this tiny little nook on the internet, and if anyone happened upon my page and liked what they read, then great, thanks for reading.
It was only a matter of time before this blog would lean more toward the music-related side of things more than anything else. I'd always liked telling people about the music I was listening to, had been fussily making year-end album lists since the age of 16, but I never considered that to be anything more than a hobby. A year after starting the page I found myself writing for PopMatters at the over-the-hill age of 31, and the whole thing snowballed from there. Putting more focus on my first musical love, metal, landing cool paying gigs for numerous magazines, getting to hear some great music, talk to some very cool musicians (including a few all-time favourites), getting to go on some insanely cool work-related trips, to even being repeatedly targeted by some strange people as a credibility-lacking blight on the metal landscape (imagine…me, Mr. Chronically Polite, with actual nemeses! Surreal, I tell you). I sure didn't expect to be where I am ten years ago. It's not much of a career, but it's been fun and unpredictable.
Not much has changed on this blog from ten years ago. Still formatted the same way, as spartan as possible, still using the old-timey Pitas site, which miraculously is still operational. No comment boxes, no links to specific posts, no images (most of the time, anyway), no running tally of readers. Just me here typing away, usually late at night, for no one in particular. If this page lasts another ten years, it most likely won't look much different. Whether you're a regular visitor, found this page via another link or via twitter, or wound up here after searching for, I dunno, New Pornographers setlists, thanks for stopping by, and feel free to visit again.
Okay, enough reminiscing. Back to the regularly scheduled bloggin'.
This year also marks the 20th year I've been a serious fan of Bob Dylan. Of course, growing up in the wake of the 1960s, a Gen-X kid absorbs a good deal of Dylan knowledge by osmosis. For me, the first time I learned about Bob Dylan was around 1977 or '78, when we sung "Blowin' in the Wind" in music class, teacher on the piano, the rest of us staring at an overhead projection on the wall, reluctantly blurting out lyrics that seemed to mean something, but were too darn enigmatic for a seven or eight year old to fully comprehend. I'd later know a bunch of Dylan's other songs through popular culture references, oldies radio, even music videos, but it wasn't until 1991, when I was in the midst of temporarily shedding my metal interests, eager to expand my horizons a bit more. That year CBC FM aired an incredible Bob Dylan primer to coincide with the man's 50th birthday, and it was the exact kind of crash course I needed. Co-hosted by noted Canadian Dylanologist Rob Bowman, it was divided into three hour-long parts that focused on three key themes: Bob Dylan the protest writer ("Blowin'", "Masters of War", "The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll"), Bob Dylan the romantic ("Don't Think Twice", "Lay lady Lay", "Sara"), and Bob Dylan the seeker ("It's Alright Ma", "Series of Dreams"). That was it. It changed everything. I dove into all Dylan's early records at the library, I got Biograph, I got The Bootleg Series 1-3, and typically, obsessed and obsessed.
Today Dylan's music is a part of me like the Beatles, Iron Maiden, Metallica, Ramones, Pavement, Pulp, to the point where I know it so well there's hardly the need to pull out the CDs and LPs anymore. Or so I thought. Thanks to the success of the Beatles Mono Box Set, Columbia did the same with Dylan's first eight albums, so that was something I absolutely had to hear. I got the mono box for Christmas, and not surprisingly, it was a revelation, rekindling my love for the man's music.
Of course, his first four albums are simply Bob at the microphone with his guitar and harmonica, but the stereo versions of those albums are ridiculous, separating guitar and voice harshly, Bob singing in one speaker, his guitar in another, his harmonica solos often too shrill. The mono re-releases bring back the warmth, which is just gorgeous to hear. The oft-overlooked Bob Dylan remains a fascinating record, young Bob doing his best to sound like an old craggy drifter, and doing it extremely well, and the mix only captures that feeling more vividly. On a personal note, after years of listening to Zeppelin's rehash of "In My Time of Dying" a lot more than Dylan's the version on this album is a cool change of pace. The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan, on the other hand, is simply sublime. The intimacy of the album in mono is jaw-dropping, each song, whether the timeless "Blowin'", the angry "Masters of War", the humour of "Talkin' World War III Blues", the tender "Don't Think Twice" and "Bob Dylan's Dream", all pack a more emotional wallop than the stereo version did because it concentrates everything into one speaker. You ear is more focused, if that makes any sense. It's such a cliché to say it, but it is like hearing it for the first time again.
Despite having "Boots of Spanish Leather", one of my favourite Dylan songs, and the devastating, topical "Hattie Carroll", I never cared to give The Times They Are A-Changin' much attention. The title track, while an American standard, it a bit of a Boomer cliché, and if Dylan wasn't so darn poetic, I'd say he was going through the motions on that song. And besides, this is one dreary album. Not a smile is cracked, it's all very grim, highlighted by the stunner "Ballad of Hollis Brown", a tune I'd glossed over far too often over the years. Another Side of Bob Dylan lightens the mood considerably – how can you not love "All I Really Want to Do" or My Back Pages"? – and "Chimes of Freedom" is a crucial moment in his development as a songwriter, but it remains a largely transitional album, and even listening to it today all you can think of is the watershed moments he's unleash over the next four years.
And wow, does "Subterranean Homesick Blues" ever burst out of the speaker on the mono Bringing it All Back Home. That album marks the second big revelation, how the mono mix condenses all the blues rock instruments into a tight little ball, playing down the clarity and focus on musicianship, instead focusing in the simple attack of Dylan and the ungodly clutter of his band. What a glorious album this remains, too. "Maggie's Farm", "Outlaw Blues", and "Bob Dylan's 115th Dream" now feel punchy, "Love Minus Zero/No Limit" (another dear fave) sounds even prettier, and the one-two punch of "Gates of Eden" and "It's Alright Ma" is as devastating as ever. And of course Dylan proceeded to go on one of the most spectacular three-album runs in rock 'n' roll history. Of course, Highway 61 Revisited sounds terrific overall. No surprise there. Though listening to the mono version, it really feels like "Like a Rolling Stone" was tacked on…which it was. For some reason the nine Bob Johnston tracks sound a lot more solid than Tom Wilson's "Rolling Stone". You feel the blues on the Johnston songs a lot more (listen to "Train to Cry" or "From a Buick 6"), whereas the mono "Rolling Stone" is more of a clutter of instruments. That doesn't diminish "Rolling Stone" a lick, but something in the mono mix made me re-examine one of my all-time fave records.
Praise The White Album all you like, I still think Blonde on Blonde is the greatest double album of all time. 70 minutes of ramshackle tunes, going into the blues a lot more deeply than ever ("Pledging My Time", "Obviously 5 Believers"), serving up moments of pure pop "I Want You", sounding as playful as ever ("Rainy Day Women", "Leopard Skin Pill-Box Hat"), unabashed romanticism ("Just Like a Woman", "Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands"), post-Beat poetry ("Stuck Inside of Mobile With the Memphis Blues Again"), and of course, coming up with "Visions of Johanna", The Greatest Bob Dylan Song Of All Time. "Johanna" sounds wonderful in mono…the stereo version is a bit distracting, the drums clacking away in one speaker, but here it feels so much more cohesive. Another personal favourite is "One of Us Must Know", and that big crescendo from verse to bridge to chorus is so much more grandiose in mono, it has a bigger impact. Yeah, I probably will never listen to my double LP (purchased used back in 1992) ever again. John Wesley Harding, meanwhile, remains a strange one for me. It's lauded as a classic, a 5-star Dylan album across the board, but it's a tougher one for me to get into. It's so much more straightforward than his previous three albums, which I adore so much…actually, Dylan's Never Ending Tour really got me into some of the songs on this album, namely "Drifter's Escape", "Down Along the Cove" and "The Wicked Messenger". Of course there's the looming spectre of "All Along the Watchtower" and the piany blooze of "Dear Landlord". But with all the Biblical references, the "safe" musicianship (as opposed to the ramshackle blues rock of the other albums), and Dylan's vocal phrasing, to me it's always felt like an odd duck of an album. Lots to appreciate, but it's one that's felt almost impenetrable to me. Weird, I know. But who knows, maybe this record will finally grow on me if I live another ten years!
Overall, though, the mono box is absolutely worth getting. The album sleeves are nifty recreations of the originals, the overall presentation is very snazzy, the accompanying book is nicely laid out, with liner notes by Greil Marcus that for once aren't overly lofty. You also get a free download of the set on good quality mp3, too (320 bitrate, which is nice). If you love Dylan's music, and if you're too young to remember when records were sold in both mono and stereo, you really, really, really need to hear this stuff. Spin one of these albums every night, you'll be all the better for it.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Over on the I Love Music message board, there's a long-running topic subtitle, "Defending the Indefensible", in which someone either decides to stand up for a notoriously maligned album or challenges someone to do so. You always get threads like these on music boards, and they're always fun to read. Over at the Deciblog they've decided to do the same thing, albeit with a somewhat more crude title: "Justify Your Shitty Taste". Either way, it's the same idea, in which we dB writers pick an album we're fond of but most of the metal world isn't. My colleague Kevin Stewart-Panko kicked it off in December with his very well thought-out defense of Metallica's St. Anger (and I agree, while far from perfect it's not that bad), I followed during Boxing Week with a similar piece on Judas Priest's Turbo. I've had a funny history with that album: I still remember how it felt hearing the first single "Locked In". It wasn't so much disappointing as it was deflating. It was worse than a band running out of ideas, it sounded like Judas Priest was complacent. Of course the band was already known for pandering to the crossover crowd (they'd done that already with British Steel and Point of Entry, but still, when you're 15 in 1986, you're expecting the follow-up to Screaming For Vengeance and Defenders of the Faith to sound just as powerful, if not more. Instead, we got synths and pop filler worthy of some anonymous Sunset Strip band. At least that's what I thought at the time, and I go into all that in my article. How I came to appreciate the entire album is a long, gradual story. It wasn't until I listened to the 2002 remaster for the first time in ages that I started grappling with the notion that this album was actually good. My review at the time still leaned on the negative side, but now I can envision cracks in my condescending facade; it wouldn't be long until I admitted to myself that I actually liked Turbo. Unbelievably, it's going to be that album's 25th birthday this April. Anyway, give the thing a read, and if you're in your teens, don't toss out or delete those albums you're embarrassed to own. Time has a funny way of changing your perspective...it took me almost two decades to fully appreciate Turbo. Who knows, maybe I'll come around to Cold Lake in another ten years...
Meanwhile, one of my more tardy record reciews has gone up at PopMatters, as I finally got around to putting 700-ish words together on Dungen's splendid fifth album Skit I Allt. That's right, another album of weird Swedish singing, retro psychedelic/prog rock, scorching Stooges-style guitars, Can-style jams, and flute solos up the wazoo. An acquired taste, and this band's "cool factor" fizzled long since the P-Fork fave Ta Det Lugnt (I affectionately call it "ta det lugnut"), but they've become one of my favourite bands of the last ten years or so, and it's been fun to hear their music evolve so gracefully over the years.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Have you ever found yourself discovering a new musical interest as a result of a strange coincidental convergence of several seemingly unrelated things? Does that sentence even make sense? Basically, just how I got into yé-yé, the French girl singer fad of the 1960s, is weird when I think about it now. It was a slow build-up, but the real catalysts happened in 2007. I was getting into French all-girl band Plastiscines in a big way, and in doing my research on the band I noticed a lot of people on the continent were comparing them to the yé-yé girls of the '60s. That sounded kind of interesting. Completely unrelated, I started dabbling in Serge Gainsbourg. Then I saw Grindhouse in the theater and found myself strangely transfixed by the snappy tune that played during the Death Proof credits. That catchy song with the "Peter Gunn" rip-off riff and the playful melody was "Chick Habit", by '90s indie girl April March. Looking into that song, I learned that it was actually a translation of the Gainsbourg song "Laisser Tomber Les Filles", which March also sung in French on her album. Looking into the story behind that, I discovered the original song by France Gall, which was far better. Reading about France Gall, I found out she was one of the most famous yé-yé girls and that she'd recorded a bunch of Gainsbourg songs, including "Poupee de Cire, Poupee de Son" and the incredibly racy "Les Sucettes", and I wound up downloading one of her compilations via Soulseek of all places. By then I was in full Gainsbourg mode, obsessing over L'histoire de Melody Nelson. At the same time I was getting more and more into the films of Jean-Luc Godard. Total coincidence, but as I became transfixed by Pierrot le Fou, Breathless, and many others, I learned just how cool the magnetic Anna Karina was back then, eventually making "Jamais je ne t'ai dit que je t'aimerai toujour" a permanent fixture on my ipod. I had no idea until a while later that Karina had actually recorded a song or two of Gainsbourg's, most notably the wonderfully sassy "Rollergirl". Meanwhile, two movies I adored, The Dreamers and An Education, made prominent use of the ultracool Parisian music of Francoise Hardy. Then that darn Brigitte Bardot Stella Artois ad came out. It was if popular culture was deliberately ambushing me. The strange thing is, aside from Francoise Hardy, yé-yé is hard to find on CD outside France. By the end of 2010, that was it, I was fully obsessed, and when I literally stumbled across a brand new yé-yé compilation CD at my local bookstore in mid-December, I was saying to anyone who would listen, "I want this for Christmas!!!"
Well, I got it, and needless to say, C'est Chic! French Girl Singers of the 1960s is by far my most listened-to album of the past fortnight. Put out by Ace records, a very cool reissue label in the UK, this CD is a solid hour of yé-yé, but as I eventually learned, this wasn't somethnig hastily slapped together by a label. This 24 song collection was curated by a couple of guys who know the genre very well, with a lot of the background info in the liner notes coming from the minds behind the very cool and informative Ready Steady Girls website. The tracklisting gets it right, combining well-known tracks like "Laisser Tomber Les Filles", "Rollergirl', and "Ne Me Laisser Pas L'aimer" with selections that range from the quirky, to the obscure, to the ridiculously obscure. Once you get past the classics and go deeper into the CD, that's when things get really interesting.
Famous singers like Francoise Hardy and Jacqueline Taieb are represented of course (they along with France Gall deservedly get two selections each), but wisely, ubiquitous songs "Tous les Garcons et les Filles" and "7 Heures du Matin" are passed over. Instead from Taieb we get the sultry Le Coeur au Bout des Doigts" and the Bacharachy "Ce Soir Je M'en Vais", while they ditch the early folky Hardy stuff in favour of a pair of drop-dead gorgeous ballads from 1968, "Voila" and the stunning, ultra-rare "Je Ne Sais Pas Ce Que Je Veux", the latter transforming the cornball hippy-dippy Nirvana song into a piece of jaw-dropping beauty.
The obscure songs on C'est Chic! are just as fantastic. Christie Laume's "L'adorable Femmes Des Neiges is playful bubblegum pop. The surfy guitar and the swoony vocals on Ria Bartok's "Tu La Revois" make for a shocking dead ringer for Best Coast's modern take on classic pop. Annie Philippe's cute, nasally "C'est La Mode" plays the Beatles card in a charmingly obvious way. Jocelyne's "A la Fin de Gagneras" goes for more of a Shirley Bassey feel. The husky singing by Alice Dona on Un Chagrin a Oublier" suits the more formal UK mainstream pop feel (and kind of sticks out, as ye-ye was mainly American-inspired). Girl group Les Gams lend a surreal quality to "Impatiente". Though she was in her 30s, not to mention English, Petula Clark (more on her in a minute) pops in with the solid "Donne Moi". But the real revelation on this collection is one 19 year-old Michele Torr, who belts out Gainsbourg's "Non, A Tous Les Garcons" with such beguiling conviction that you're won over instantly. Seriously, how can you not love such great pop music as I've mentioned in this paragraph?
For a single CD it's wonderful to see Ace go all-out as far as the liner notes go. The 24 page, heavy paper booklet is full colour, with loads of photos and very detailed notes on every artist, something you don't really see anymore. They went all out to create as appealing a package as possible, and for that they must be commended. Not only does this satisfy a major, major jones for yé-yé that had been building in yours truly for a few years now, it's also one of the finest genre compilations I have come across in years. It perfectly captures an era and sound that never really gets its due, but it clicked with yours truly at a time when popular music couldn't be more cynical and crass. It's adorable, it's full of energy, it's easy on the ears (and eyes), and most of all, it's fun. You don't have to know French at all to enjoy this stuff. All you need is one glorious hook, and there are loads and loads of them on this album.
And speaking of Petula Clark, my family had her 1964 French album Les James Dean back in the '70s. I don't know how we got it, I think it came from a relative who might have brought it back from France or somewhere, but I spun that record a lot as a kid, namely a kooky little country send-up called "O O Sheriff". Who wrote that song? None other than Serge Gainsbourg. Unbeknown to me for decades, the seed for my yé-yé obsession was planted at a very early age! I just wish I had that record again.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Another year down, but there's still plenty of housecleaning…as always it's been a busy time, with year-end craziness extending far beyond my own page. Of course there's my big year in metal feature at PopMatters. The response to that article has been incredible, it's been the third most-read piece at the site for nearly a month, and I've received some nice feedback from people. Hardcore metal fans will scoff, but a lot of people who don't have the time to dig for new metal music to listen to go to the year-end lists for purchase ideas, so I hope I've turned some folks on to some new tunes they'll like. That's what it's all about at the end of the day.
At Hellbound we've put together a very strong series of critics' polls, including albums (I blurbed #16), events, and the crown jewel of the lot, the best Canadian metal albums of the year. The latter is really important in my books…there are Canadian-based metal sites out there, but no one shines the spotlight on their own country's metal scene. And I agree with all ten choices, they're all very deserving of inclusion. I expect that annual poll to grow in stature, and look forward to keeping tabs on the metal in this country a little more.
In Decibel magazine's year-end issue, I'm barely in it, just a single review. It makes sense, I guess, as only a small number of my votes for best albums made the final cut. I always like the diversity of Decibel's lists, it's always a terrific reflection of the wildly varied interests of the ever-growing writing staff, but this year a lot didn't sit well with me. #2 Watain is good but overrated here, Torche (#6) shouldn't be in there with a mere stopgap EP, Thou (#8) is boring, Atheist's album (#19) is lousy, Fear Factory (#27) has zero nostalgic appeal to me, I find Ryan Lipynsky's The Howling Wind more appealing than Unearthly Trance (#28), The Body (#33) is pretentious, and where the heck is Iron flippin' Maiden in that poll? That's perfectly fine though, the best lists spark debate, and Decibel's most definitely did that.
During Boxing Week I found some amazing record store sales and picked up a stack of CDs that I either a) slept on in 2010, b) had been meaning to pick up for ages, and c) had not heard of until I saw other year-end lists. Under 'b', for example, was The Sword's great Warp Riders (it's a buyer, crummy advance mp3s will not suffice), under 'c' was Jamey Johnson's outlaw country opus The Guitar Song (thanks to Dave Heaton at PopMatters for that recommendation), and under 'b' was Janelle Monae's The ArchAndroid. I was no stranger to Monae, nor the two singles from the album, but despite having it on mp3 I just never got around to listening to the darn thing. So when I picked it up for 40% off on Boxing Day and played it a few days later, I was flabbergasted by just how fun it is. It's no wonder it didn't sell more copies than it did, it's diverse enough to frustrate anyone expecting more songs like "Tightrope". The way it wildly swings from style to style is a blast, the lady adapts so well from song to song, and her lyrics are very smart to boot (including sly Philip K. Dick references, not to mention the crazy George Clinton sci-fi concepts)…and let's not forget the Eddie Hazel-style guitar solos! Forget that silly Kanye album (why are people so crazy about that one?), this is one big critical favourite I can get behind. This should have made my top 20 list, what a big flub on my part.
The other album I've really been kicking myself about is Grinderman's second record, which totally crept up on me. I liked the first one a fair bit (though admittedly it's pretty much dominated by the presence of the classic "No Pussy Blues"), but when I first heard "Heathen Child" I wasn't exactly bristling with excitement. It was okay, a solid piece of heavy blues with no shortage of cool Nick Cave imagery, but it slowly grew on me. Unlike the previous album, which couldn't quite top the strength of its first single, the rest of the songs on Grinderman 2 were massive improvements. Unfortunately this didn't dawn on me until I bought the darn thing well after posting my year-end list. "Mickey Mouse and the Goodbye Man", "Worm Tamer", and "Evil" are dark, abrasive, positively scorching tracks, while "When My Baby Comes" and "Palaces of Montezuma" are as good as any mellow song that Cave has recorded in the last decade or so. It's still a vicious, primitive, guitar-oriented album, in keeping with Grinderman's whole mission statement, but Cave brings in more elements of his solo persona, which gives Grinderman a lot more depth than I expected. I might have missed posting this in my top 20 in December, but I have the rest of my time to play this album. A lot.
