Review: Nas’ “Untitled”

July 17, 2008 11:48 AM

  Nas can’t just make an entrance; he has to cause a stir.  It’s been that way ever since 1994 when he dropped his instantly classic album “Illmatic.”  Back then, the fuss was around his seemingly effortless lyrical skill and tales of his life in Queensbridge. He was able to make a defining statement within the confines of a lean ten track set.  The album’s brevity made it all the more impressive.

In the years since, he has figured out other ways to get everyone’s attention.  In the video for his song “Hate Me Now,” he appeared on the cross, thus causing a stir.  He’s always had a bit of a god-complex.  He’s even called an album “God’s Son.” 

Two years ago he got tongues wagging by calling his album “Hip Hop is Dead,” but that was nothing compared to what he’s done now.  This album, which remains untitled, nearly received the n-word as a title.  With a picture of his bare back on the cover with what look like whipping wounds, this is not meant to be a statement taken lightly.  It’s a bold and dangerous move, especially at a time when many African-Americans are debating the use of such an ugly word, even within the altered confines of hip-hop. If he was going to use that name as a title, paired with such a powerful image, he’d better be able to give his listeners something compelling, infusing strong sociopolitical commentary and showcasing a firm knowledge of African-American history.  Without those elements, such a name and cover would trivialize one of the biggest, most defining tragedies in American history.     Nas is a gifted MC, though, and thus he understands every move he is making.  He knows the stakes are high here, and for the majority of the record he delivers a well-thought out thesis on his perceptions of what it is like to be an African-American in today’s society.  The picture he paints isn’t a pretty one.  This is a nation in turmoil.  We may like to think that we’ve made a lot of progress since the Civil Rights Movement, but there are still an awful lot of inequities. 

The album begins with a low-key sounding, drumless piano loop, which skips along with the regularity of a scratched record.  This is the backbone of “Queens Get the Money.”  Within a matter of seconds, Nas sets the scene with images of “wars with other nations,” “pregnant teens,” and children growing up with “faceless” fathers.  By the end of the two-minute, twelve second track, he’s attacked his critics’ claims that he has lost his skill, he’s declared, “bring back Arsenio,” and he’s made mention of Huey P. Newton, Emitt Till, George Foreman and the fallen twin towers. Ah, yes, this is a dense record, and his flow is as tight and skillfully baffling as ever.    

The history lesson continues on “You Can’t Stop Us Now,” which features the Stylistics’ Eban Thomas and hip-hop godfathers the Last Poets.  What a way to show Nas means business by placing himself amongst such legends.  On this track he discusses African Americans throughout the ages from all walks of life and points out that many most likely didn’t get credit for their achievements. “Betsy Ross sewed the first American flag.  Bet she had a ni__a with her to help her old ass.”   His terms are rough, but then again, so is the subject. He discusses the bling-obsessed culture of today’s hip-hop universe as “from gold to shackles and back to gold.” He makes passing references to slavery and minstrel shows.  This is a pretty heavy record, and it needs to be.  Throughout history there are plenty examples of injustice to draw upon. 

“Breathe” has all the elements of the first two tracks, but it’s not quite as sharp.  His cries of “In America you will never be free,” and his disdain for the police force (and for that matter any other governmental authoritative force) are felt, but it gets rather repetitive.  Plus the production and feaux-jazz beat make it sound cheesy, thus diminishing its persuasive pull. 

On “Make the World Go ‘Round,” Nas does himself another slight disservice by having Chris Brown on the track.  This shouldn’t be a pop record.  Nas does his best work when he’s backed by scratchy, organic sounding old-school beats.  If you add a pop-flavored  R&B singer in the mix, usually that kills the track’s gritty dynamic.  Think back to classics like “The World is Yours” and “It Ain’t Hard To Tell.”  I guarantee those songs wouldn’t have had the same pull with a flavor-of-the-month R&B singer singing the hook.  It’s an unnecessary move made in the name of airplay.  The Game’s guest verse adds very little of note except for tired bling-glorification and what sounds like an edited out homophobic reference. His presence brings nothing positive.    The main problem with the track as a whole is that it doesn’t fit the political mindset of the majority of the album.  It seems like a distraction or an unneeded intermission from the higher quality material.

“Hero” sounds good with its techno-tinged, glitch-driven marching band sound until guest vocalist Keri Hilson sings over the chorus.  Hilson has a good voice.  No disrespect to her, whatsoever, but this is not the place for a sing-song-y hook. It distracts from Nas’ raw power as a lyricist.  Once again, this song isn’t as political, which might be why it’s the single. The only reference he makes is how he feels he’s been censored. (“Tell Bob Dylan, Bruce or Billy Joel they can’t sing what’s in their soul!”) In general, though, the track seems a little too safe.  It is infectious, though.

On “America” he gets back on tack, discussing how he wishes his people got more respect.  Here he wonders why there are so few black astronauts and he criticizes the country for being built on hypocrisy. His point is that we claim to be a nation of freedom, but our imperialist past built this nation on the backs of black slaves.  He talks about unjust sexism too in the culture and how it goes back to the bible (and Eve biting the apple) where women are “the reason sin is here.”  His point is not to criticize the country as a whole, rather he wants us to “pay attention” and stand for our ideals.  He wants justice and the end of double standards. 

Nas’ next and sharpest target is Rupert Murdoch.  On “Sly Fox,” not only does he attack Fox News for being unbalanced, but he also has similar criticism for Fox 5 in New York and “The New York Post.”  Nas says, “A fox’s tail is bushy, Bush lies and Fox trots,” thus accusing the network of spouting the Republican administration’s agenda.  He also accuses Fox of promoting racism, saying, “Only Foxx that I loved was the Redd one. The only black man that Fox love is in jail or a dead one.”  He comes out blazing and combined with the rock-edged backdrop, the track is full of energy.  He criticizes Murdoch for owning Myspace and making money off of hip-hop culture and then allowing his company (and people like Bill O’Reilly) criticize the genre. He says nothing about Murdoch’s newly acquired “Wall Street Journal.”

On “Testify,” Nas targets “bigots” who wave the Confederate flag and talks about rap fans in suburbia.

On “N.I.*.*.ER (The Slave and the Master),” Nas discusses how African Americans need to look at themselves and the culture.  “We trust no black leaders,” he cries, while talking about young men in the ghetto who get shot and killed and old women who have diabetes.  “We are the slave and the master. What you looking for? You’re the question and the answer.”  He urges people to stand up and look at their surroundings. “This history don’t acknowledge us. We were scholars long before colleges.”      

Next is an untitled track which prominently mentions Louis Farrakhan.  He’s a polarizing figure, so no doubt this could even make some of the people who have agreed with some of Nas’ other points uncomfortable.

Next we get another break from the politics with “Fried Chicken.”  It’s a rather routine sex rap featuring Busta Rhymes.  It does stand out however because it’s produced by Mark Ronson who brings the same funky horn-driven soul here that he did on his album “Version.”  If not for Ronson’s contribution, this track wouldn’t belong here. 

The break doesn’t last long, though, because next is “Project Roach” which compares racism and those who perpetuate it to roaches that won’t die.  It’s a sad statement indeed. 

On “Y’all My Ni**as,” it is discussed how the n-word is used, sometimes without decent knowledge of the word’s roots.  But at the same time it’s like the culture has a love/hate relationship with the word.  Its beginnings are ugly, yet some have tried to reclaim it and suck the juice out it.  The fact that this album’s title was changed speaks volumes on the subject.  Lack of understanding about the word is a topic here, yet it is peppered all throughout the album.  In the chorus Nas speaks as the word itself. “Try to erase me from your memory. Too late, I’m engraved in history. Speak my name and breathe life in me. Make sure you never forget me. ‘Cuz y’all use my name so reckless, whether it be accepted or disrespected. And I love it, especially when I do it in public.”  What he is saying here will no doubt cause debate amongst people of all ethnicities.  It’s an ugly word, but then again, the history is ugly too.  Perhaps his point is that if you forget history, you are more likely to repeat it.

On “We’re Not Alone” Nas talks about everything from governmental wire-tapping to hidden U.F.O.s.  The most important part of the track comes at the end where he essentially gives the album’s thesis statement.  He says, “I’m American born. I love America. I love my people. I love all mankind, all nationalities. I think it’s just been  recent, that everybody’s starting to feel like there was an elite group that controls everything and everybody else was sheep, ignorant, making all ethnicities, colors and creeds Ni**as, blind to what’s really going on.  So I say take off the wool from your eyes.  Out with the old America, in with the new. End all racism, all injustice, all oppression, to poor people, any people, anywhere on this planet. Let’s come together. A new day is rising.”

With that, he ends the album on an optimistic note.  On “Black President” he talks about his hopes for Obama and he hopes that if Obama wins he doesn’t forget about the injustices in the nation.  The song’s chorus borrows from Obama’s slogan, singing, “Yes we can change the world.”  Considering how many ugly subjects Nas attacks on this album, it’s a fitting light at the end of the tunnel. 

This album is sure to cause controversy, but when it hits its marks, it is very thought-provoking.  Nas addresses issues of race (and actually to an even deeper degree, economic power) in ways others might be afraid to.  Even if you don’t agree with everything he says, you can’t deny that he’s making the record he wants to make.  He’s true to his own vision.  He wants his country to be true to its ideals. This isn’t an all-out classic like “Illmatic” was.  He may never reach those heights again, but this is still quite an important album which makes bold claims about the state of race and power in America.   

July 17, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (0)

Review: John Mayer’s “Where The Light Is – Live In Los Angeles”

July 14, 2008 5:47 PM

  John Mayer has released four studio albums.  In considering this fact, please keep in mind that his second album, “Room For Squares” contained many of the same songs as his first album “Inside Wants Out.” Now, realize that “Where The Light Is” is John Mayer’s third live release, following “Any Given Thursday” and “Try!”  Isn’t that a little much?  Do we need this much live John Mayer?  The truth is, um...no.  No we don’t! He keeps releasing live albums, though, and they serve a purpose.  For those who see him as a wimpy, sensitive singer-songwriter, these records allow him to prove himself by flexing his blues muscle.  He’s a stunning guitar player, perhaps one of the most technically proficient guitarists working today this side of Jack White, but his over-reliance on cheesy balladry and his not-so-strong falsetto hinder his ability to really show the world what he’s got.  He’d be much cooler if he curbed these elements and did a more straight-forward rocking blues.  Being cool isn’t everything though. It’s also a wonder how genuine his love for the blues truly is, or whether it’s just his latest flavor.   

There’s an awkwardness to the juxtaposition of Mayer’s two sides.  It’s as if after spending the last few years as this generation’s James Taylor, he has decided that he instead wants to be this generation’s Stevie Ray Vaughn.  It sort of works, and his pure skill with his instrument carries him through some rocky points. 

“Where The Light Is” is broken into three sets, spread across two discs.  It’s also available as a concert DVD.

The first section is a solo acoustic set.  The opening version of “Room For Squares” track, “Neon” is the highlight as he effortlessly bounces around the scale with quickness and ease.  This song sounds like it would have made a good Soul Coughing song.  It would probably suit Mike Doughty’s voice much better than it suits Mayer.  Nevertheless this version is impressive. 

All the earned good will from “Neon,” though is squandered throughout the rest of the set.  “Stop This Train” is an OK soft, folk-driven song, but it doesn’t go anywhere.  Mayer’s whistling solo is just strange.  “In Your Atmosphere” is also too soft for its own good.  When he’s in this mode of songwriting, he sounds like he should be played in the background of some lame teen soap along side Gavin Degraw.  He’s better than that.  He has more potential than that.  These songs may make some women swoon, but they just make the rest of us nauseous. 

“Daughters” may be used at a lot of wedding receptions for awkward father/daughter dances, but come on! It’s syrupy sappiness and nothing more. Even Mayer himself seemed befuddled when the song won a Grammy.  It makes one wonder whether he actually believes in his own material.

The final track on the acoustic set is a botched cover of Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin’.”  The original is so good, it shouldn’t be messed with.  Mayer tries to keep it soft and jazzy.  During the chorus where he should give the song a lift (and perhaps some stronger guitar) he instead takes it off in a still quiet direction.  It’s a missed opportunity.  It isn’t as good as his cover of “Message in a Bottle” on “Any Given Thursday.”

He redeems himself once again, at least a little on the next set, on which he’s joined by drummer Steve Jordan and bassist Pino Palladino.  Once again, it’s his guitar work that is the star, not his song choice or his vocal delivery.  Has he earned the right to sing a song called “Everyday I Have the Blues?” 

His version of Hendrix’s “Wait Until Tomorrow” sounds a like a Spin Doctors castoff with a better solo.  This is better than his later, wispy rendering of “Bold As Love,” on which he gives a somewhat pointless, endlessly meandering speech about how he “made it for himself!”  What does that mean, really?  I’m not really sure and it’s somewhat evident that Mayer isn’t really sure either.  It’s just a random case of rock star banter gone wrong.

“Who Did You Think I Was” was already done well by the trio on “Try!” thus rendering this equally stirring rendition somewhat needless except for the intricate solo.

“Come When I Call” is blues by the numbers.  Mayer does surprisingly well with this, but he lacks the vocal authority to give the song the thrust it needs. 

“Good Love Is On The Way,” which was also on “Try!” is given a rather strong, arena worthy treatment.  If only Mayer rocked this hard or harder more often.  Here he almost finds his voice. 

“Let me first say how wonderful it feels to know that it’s 2007 and we just launched into a slow blues and seven thousand people in L.A. just went nuts.  All is not lost!” These are the words Mayer says as he sets off the ten-minute “Out of My Mind.”  It’s a nice blues workout for him, and it does showcase his level of skill well.  He once again ruins it with cheesy moves like singing to the audience, “Can I play my guitar?  Can I play it loud?”  My response would be, “I don’t know, apparently you can!”  Such exercises in what Mayer probably views as “showmanship” can be done without.

“Vultures” was an almost decent song on “Continuum,” which was destroyed by Mayer’s falsetto chorus.  (What?  Is swapping trade secrets with Adam Levine?)  He should really stay away from this range of his voice.  It doesn’t serve him well. 

Next up is the band set, in which he is joined by a fuller band.  The set begins with “Waiting For the World To Change” which sounds way too close to “Sexual Healing.”  It may have been a hit, but I can’t help but think Marvin Gaye did it better the first time.

“Slow Dancing in a Burning Room” is a great title for a song.  It also shows Mayer’s better part of his softer side.  This is similar to the side of himself he showed well on the majority of “Room For Squares.” That album was enjoyable (with the exception of “Your Body Is A Wonderland,”)

The next song on this live set is not only the best song on that record, but the best song Mayer has ever recorded.  “Why Georgia” shows why Mayer is a star in the first place.  It’s his sharpest bit of songwriting to date, thus it is also the highlight here.

“The Heart of Life” is also a strong softer number, only it’s from “Continuum.” 

Next up is “I Don’t Need No Doctor.”  The studio version of this was a collaboration with John Scofield on his tribute album for Ray Charles.  Mayer shows some blues power here, but the horn section gives the track a watered-down, unwanted “smooth jazz” sort of vibe. 

Is a nine-minute version of “Gravity” really necessary?  The song isn’t even one of his best singles. Here it just never ends.

“I Don’t Trust Myself (With Loving You)” is capable, but like the original studio take, it’s forgettable and bland.  Mayer has almost lost the songwriting spark that made him remotely interesting in the first place.  When he first appeared, I was able to enjoy his work a great deal.  Now, his newer songs seem boring and repetitive. It’s too bad.  He needs to not rely so much on his softer side and allow himself to rock out a little more.

“Belief” has a little lift. It serves him better and proves that he can occasionally relocate some energy, but once again that “smooth jazz” element to his band’s sound hurts the track. 

The set ends with “I’m Gonna Find Another You.”  It’s a decent song, but it seems calculated to manipulate the audience.  I really wonder how genuine Mayer’s love of the blues is.  Here he seems to try to merge it with his adult-contemporary side.  It’s an unnatural mixture, but it gets the audience going. 

“Where The Light Is” will please many John Mayer fans.  It shows a capable musician working in a variety of band settings. Mayer may be capable, but he suddenly lacks the little soul he needs to pull it off.  Guitar skill alone can’t save him from his worst tendencies.    

July 14, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (1)

Introducing – On the Record's DJ Booth for Monday July 14, 2008– A List Of Worthy Songs New And Old

July 14, 2008 4:02 PM

Here is a new segment for “On the Record.”  Since I enjoy making lists, I figured I’d start regularly recommending songs I’ve been listening to.  As you will see below, the list is broken down into three categories. 

Current means that the song is from this year or late last year.  In other words, it’s from an album still in my current rotation. 

Older covers everything from two years back to the early eighties. 

Vintage is anything from the seventies and before.   

The goal here is to discuss music that I haven’t been able to cover in the album reviews.   Some of the tracks I list won’t necessarily be singles, thus giving attention to some deserving album tracks. In any case, it’s just some insight into what I’m listening to. 

Current:

Earlimart – “Before It Gets Better” From the album “Hymn and Her” (2008) Earlimart are an indie rock duo from Los Angeles.  Aaron Espinoza and Ariana Murray mostly craft gently reflective songs. “Hymn and Her” is their sixth and arguably most accessible album.  More often than not, Espinoza is the one who sings, but on “Before It Gets Better,” it is Murray’s time to shine.  In this ever expanding piano ballad, she sings of incoming doom as if she has been locked in a room for the last month listening to Aimee Mann records.  She’s sings lines like “it’s a deathtrap” and “it’s a bloodbath” with an accepting, deadpan sweetness.  The melody is sharp and the lyrics have just the right dose of knowing cynicism.  This song is well worth seeking.

N*E*R*D* - “Everyone Nose (All the Girls Standing in the Line for the Bathroom)” From the album “Seeing Sounds” (2008) I’ll admit, the first time I heard this song it kind of annoyed me, but by the fourth or fifth time, it got a little under my skin.  The repeated shouted refrain of “all the girls standing in the line for the bathroom” will probably get tiresome for some, but the level of energy is infectious.  Not only that, but on the rapped verses, there’s an old-school vibe which reminds me of hip-hop from the late eighties and early nineties.  In fact, the turntable sounding bits and the beat in combination recall De La Soul’s “Jennifa Taught Me.” It’s a track full of jazzy, peppy bounciness, even if it makes absolutely no sense at all. 

James Hunter – “Tell Her” From the album “The Hard Way” (2008) James Hunter is a smooth throwback in the best way possible.  This British singer sounds like a cross between Jackie Wilson, Sam Cooke and Bobby Darin. If you are looking for something new with a respectfully vintage sound, James Hunter is the way to go.  This track is a stellar example of his work. 

Older:

Michael Penn – “Out Of My Hands” From the album “Resigned” (1997)  It seems surprising to me that Michael Penn hasn’t become more famous as a songwriter beyond his 1989 hit “No Myth.” Sure, he’s got respect, but looking at his discography, it seems like he should’ve had a whole stack of hits. Considering his famous brother Sean, you’d expect the celebrity obsessed mainstream would pay more attention to him.  “Out of My Hands” is his best song off of his best album.  It is both soft and moving, yet there is an ever so subtle funkiness to the slowly patterned rhythm.  The bass burst that begins the track in itself is a stroke of genius. 

Black Sheep – “The Choice Is Yours (Revisited)” From the album “A Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing” (1991) Speaking of nice bass lines, this track has one of the more pseudo-psychedelic backdrops that I’ve ever heard on a hip-hop record. This song is most famous for its chorus of “you can get with this, or you can get with that,” and it stands as one of the finest examples of hip-hop from its time.  It still sounds fresh today.  It’s too bad their later albums weren’t nearly as sharp.  However, in 2004, when Dres of Black Sheep reappeared in a cameo on the Handsome Boy Modeling School’s album “White People,” it was like the return of a long lost cult hero.  If he’s on top of his game, he’s a really charismatic, entertaining M.C.  Now please join me in singing along: “Engine, engine number nine, on the New York transit line.  If my train goes off the track, pick it up, pick it up, pick it up!”

Vintage:

The Everly Brothers – “Cathy’s Clown” From the album “A Date With the Everly Brothers” (1961) This song recently came back to my attention.  Written by the brothers themselves, this is one of their true gems.  The marching band verses are inspired, especially as they are paralleled with the lyrics “Here he comes.  That’s Cathy’s clown!”  It’s like a heartbroken procession, upset to discover that a former love has found a new flame.  Then the tempo shifts a little for the nice solo statement of “I’ve gotta stand tall.  You know a man can’t crawl. For when he knows he’s telling lies and he let’s them pass on by, he’s not a man at all.”  It’s one of the best moments in pop history.  The Everly Brothers are from Kentucky, and there was a little bit of twang in their voices, but the idea that they used to be considered country seems a little funny now.  They weren’t country.  They were country-influenced rock and roll.  Perhaps it’s easier to see them in rock light because elements of their style were borrowed by everyone from the Beatles, to the Byrds to Extreme.  One thing is for sure, forty-seven years after it was recorded, this song is still quite amazing. 

What do you think about these songs? 

July 14, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (1)

Review: Beck’s “Modern Guilt”

July 08, 2008 3:17 PM

  Counting his two independent releases, “Modern Guilt” is Beck’s tenth album. This time he’s teamed with Danger Mouse and together they have crafted a quick tribute to sixties psychedelia.  At a mere 33-and-a-half minutes, “Modern Guilt” is Beck’s briefest record to date, but that’s the idea.  It’s meant to be a back-to-vinyl sort of exercise.  These ten tracks are all here for a reason. 

When “Mellow Gold” came out, it was easy to underestimate and misunderstand Beck. Who was this artsy guy trying to mix elements of punk, blues, folk and hip-hop into a strange stew?  His delivery made it hard to take him seriously.

When he recorded his critical breakthrough, “Odelay,” he kept this in mind and was able to focus all those elements into something unique and dynamic, thus proving his doubters wrong.  He was still having fun, but there was now an earnest drive that wasn’t there before.  “Odelay” is a classic.  Actually, every album he has done since “Odelay” is classic.  Beck may be the quintessential singer-songwriter of our time, and it’s partly due to the fact that he’s been so eclectic. The cut and paste style of “Odelay” and to a lesser extent “Mellow Gold” won him fans.  Meanwhile, there was a folky singer-songwriter side to him present on his indie release “One Foot In the Grave.  He later fleshed this sound out on his almost Donovan-esque album “Mutations” and eventually brought it to an apex on his dead-serious masterpiece “Sea Change.”  Mixed in there though was a man who obviously looked up to people like Prince, George Clinton, James Brown and just about anyone signed to Stax.  That’s where you get a strangely entrancing record like “Midnite Vultures.” Mix these influences with a knack for sonic experimentation and you have something truly innovative.  You could argue that all of these elements came together on his last two records. “Guero” was a lyrically dark party record informed by the sadness of its predecessor, “Sea Change,” and “The Information” was a semi-claustrophobic romp through a blues-rock and electro-clash tinged anti-utopia.  So, where does that leave “Modern Guilt?” Really, like every one of Beck’s records, it stands on its own, containing its own sound, but it’s closer to his singer-songwriter side. 

For the most part with a few exceptions, ever since “Odelay,” Beck has alternated working from album to album with the Dust Brothers (still famous for producing the Beastie Boys’ “Paul’s Boutique) and Nigel Godrich (who has been behind the boards with everyone from Radiohead, to Paul McCartney to Pavement.)  Adding Danger Mouse to the mix makes things a little more interesting, especially when you consider that Danger Mouse is experiencing massive fame of his own as one half of Gnarls Barkley.  If “Modern Guilt” sometimes has a Gnarls-esque feel, it is to be expected.  Make no mistake, though, this is a Beck record throughout. 

The album opens with “Orphans,” a song which at its core possesses many of Beck’s folk-blues trademarks with some trippy effects placed on top. It all makes for an interesting listening experience.  A feedback patch there, a backwards beat here and an ominous undercurrent beneath an otherwise sunny soundscape.  This is about as far away as “Loser” as you can get.  Take away the technology and just leave Beck with his acoustic guitar and you have a folk song. 

“Gamma Ray” on the other hand is a go-go dancing slice of garage rock that will have you dancing and bopping about like an insane chimp with a sugar high.  It recalls “The New Pollution” and “Girl,” but at the same time sounds like something brand new.  It the brightest spot on the album.

It doesn’t get any more psychedelic than “Chemtrails.”  This song is a slow and woozy three-note meditation during its verses, then it picks up with a pounding drum line and authoritative bass-line that nearly sounds like it belongs on a Stereolab song.  All throughout this song, Beck sings in a soft, low-grade falsetto.  The whole thing climaxes with a false ending which fades into a righteous acid-rock-esque guitar solo. 

Next up is the briskly walking title track. With the exception of some more modern elements, this too could’ve been on a sixties-era record.  “I feel uptight when I walk in the city. I feel so cold when I’m at home” Beck sings before going into a chorus which includes the line “Modern Guilt, I’m under lock and key.”   Ever since “Sea Change,” there’s been a dark sadness beneath Beck’s music.  This is a good example.

“Youthless” has a groove which simultaneously recalls both “We Dance Alone” from “The Information” and “Black Tambourine” from “Guero.”  The computerized-sounding, glitchy keyboard lines add a sense of tension, thus making the track even more alluring.

“Walls” has an Asian feel yet simultaneously is still strikingly psychedelic.  The beat crashes around and the high voices/keyboard sounds in back of the chorus add some effective elements. 

“Replica” is virtually drum-and-bass.  The beat is busy, the guitar line pops in and out and it’s wonderfully dizzying.  It sounds like something Radiohead would have put on “Kid A.”  In fact, over the years, Radiohead and Beck have been neck and neck as the two most innovative forces in modern music. 

“Soul of a Man” is a sharp bit of authoritative blues, with typically cryptic lines like, “Call a doctor / Call a ghost / Put a fire into your bones.”  It doesn’t get any better or any tougher sounding than this.  At 2:35, the song could use another minute because it’s over way too quickly. 

“Profanity Prayers” brings back the previously mentioned dark undercurrent and it also rocks substantially.  Layers of guitar, combined with a moving bass line and frantic drum section make for one of the album’s true standouts.  When everything stops for a momentarily subdued acoustic guitar solo, you can feel your heart pound.  When the beat comes back in, it all fits together perfectly.   

“Volcano” closes the album.  It’s essentially another acoustic guitar number with a slow hip-hop groove.  Beck harmonizes with himself softly during the chorus as he does throughout the album.  No doubt, groups like the Beach Boys and the Zombies have influenced such vocal work.  This too, is a standout, especially when the string section enters. 

Overall, “Modern Guilt” continues Beck’s line of important records.  It’s yet another great, classic listen.  Its complexities may not be apparent immediately, but they are worth your time.  This is definitely an album I will be listening to for the rest of the year!

Down the line, Beck will be looked back upon as a genius. It is my hope that younger generations will eventually discover the greatness of his records. Forty years from now, we will still be listening to these albums.   

July 8, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (1)

In Honor of the 4th of July – A Musical List Celebrating America and 4th of July Activities

July 02, 2008 5:53 PM

Friday, as you know, is July 4th, so I have compiled a list of some of my favorite songs appropriate for celebrating our independence.  Some songs are overtly about the 4th of July, others make references to the U.S. in their titles.  Some are just simply named for common 4th of July activities. I purposely avoided the overplayed American standards on this list.  You will not see any Lee Greenwood on this list, nor will you see “Living in America” by James Brown or any other song which you might hear during your standard fireworks display.  I tried to go for something slightly edgier.  In any case, I hope you enjoy reading about these songs.

10. “Firecracker” – Nada Surf (1998)  This track is off Nada Surf’s under-rated second album “The Proximity Effect.” It’s a tightly wound rock song which like its title seems ready to explode.  Leader Matthew Caws sings, “Firecracker, the one you keep inside. Firecracker, you don’t know how to light.” The song is a sonic burst of frustration.  It’s an angsty anthem of inner-turmoil.  It also, like “The Proximity Effect” is worth seeking out.  This should’ve been a hit.

9. “Indoor Fireworks” – Elvis Costello (1986)  This country-style ballad taken from Costello’s album “King of America” is a sweetly honed number about lovers with an often stormy relationship. A lot like love, “Indoor Fireworks can still burn your fingers.”  Costello has tried to channel his country influence a number of times.  This is one of his most successful attempts.  WARNING: Using fireworks indoors in never recommended.  Be safe this holiday!

8. “American Baby” – Dave Matthews Band (2005)   Truth be told I’ve never quite understood the mass appeal of the Dave Matthews Band.  Often times to me they sound like some sort of jazz hoedown (see “Ants Marching.”) Every now and then, however, they release something really amazing.  Two songs come to mind.  On Dave Matthews’ solo album, “Some Devil,” I can’t get enough of “Oh,” and this song from the band’s album “Stand Up.” Matthews is definitely a decent songwriter. This track is so striking, it’s downright cinematic.  It’s so cinematic in fact that it should be used as the end theme music for a major motion picture.  Fueled and set off by a softly plucked solo, it then opens up in an anthem-like fashion, while still possessing a dark under-current. Matthews’ growl has never been more alluring. This song is amazing.   For a brief, fleeting moment it allows me to comprehend why a mass of baseball-hat-wearing frat-boys worships at the altar of Dave Matthews. The great, closing sax solo by LeRoi Moore is also worth the price of admission.

7. “Independence Day” – Elliott Smith (1998)   From his album “XO,” this is a characteristically brooding number with a twisting, catchy tune and decent drum beat.  It’s typical Smith.  His gentle, high, whispery voice is the main star, but the song’s vague funkiness could’ve made it into something bigger. Somehow singing over his acoustic riff, Smith sounds both happy and sad at the same time.   

6. “Made In America” – Del Tha Funky Homosapien (SD 50 B-Boy Remix) (1993)  This song was the title song for a forgettable movie starring Whoopi Goldberg and Ted Danson, but the song itself, done by Del, is a funky party jam.  It’s best in its remixed form found on Del’s best-of, “The Elektra Years.”  On the track, over a bold beat and a funked-up guitar line, the one-time Gorillaz member proves why he is one of the most under-rated rappers in the game.  The song is joyous and should long outlast the movie with which it shares its title. 

   
5. “United States of Whatever – Liam Lynch (2003)   Like everything Liam Lynch touches, this is an inspired slice of insanity.  Before he released his lone album, “Fake Songs,” Lynch was known as one of the masterminds behind an MTV puppet show “Sifl & Olly.”  Since the album’s release, he’s made an impact by directing the Tenacious D movie as well as Sarah Silverman’s “Jesus is Magic.” 

“United States of Whatever” clocks in at a mere 1:29.  It made waves in England and got some limited airplay here.  This spoken word, punked-up rave-up is seemingly made up as it goes along. It’s as nuts as it is charmingly incoherent. The real emphasis in the title is on the word “Whatever” and not on “United States.”  This is meant as a pure joke and not really as a song showing national pride, but it should make you laugh with its inane sense of self-importance.  Somehow Lynch got Ringo Starr to drum on two of the other tracks on his album.  Maybe it pays to be able to make people laugh after all.   

4. “The Hands That Built America” – U2 (2002)  This song was the theme to “Gangs of New York.”  It also appeared on the band’s 1990-2000 “best of.”  Sure it’s dramatic and sweeping, but it’s a song about immigration and the early American experience.  It deserves to be over the top. 

3. “American Music” – Violent Femmes (1991)  This is one of the Violent Femmes’ most famous songs. This may be Gordon Gano’s attempt at an upbeat dance song, but it really becomes something timeless and classic.  In fact out of all the Femmes’ famous songs, this one is the least ironic and the most genuine.  It doesn’t possess the naughty snarkiness of let’s say “Add It Up” or “Blister In the Sun.”  Instead, it’s just a good sing-along.  “Do you like American Music?  I like American Music.”  The song is full of many such questions like, “I need a date to the prom.  Would you like to come along?”  I’m guessing the song isn’t a love song. The chorus has a section that says “You were born too late, I was born too soon, but every time I look at that ugly moon, it reminds me of you.”  What a touching sentiment.  On second thought, maybe this song is just as snarky as the rest! 

 
2. “America” – Simon and Garfunkel (1968)   Paul Simon has always been a sharp songwriter and “America” shows that.  With a folk-driven undercurrent the song lifts itself to glorious heights.  The lyrics are pure poetry.  You care what happens to Simon’s character and “Kathy,” the woman he is singing to as they continue to “look for America.”  This song is a great road-trip in three-and-a-half minutes, from its mention of a Greyhound bus in Pittsburgh to Simon’s assertion, “Michigan seems like a dream to me now.”  To this day, this song gets better with every listen.   

1. “4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)” – Bruce Springsteen (1973)   This song proves why so many people respect the Boss.  His attention to detail as he describes this New Jersey beach scene on the 4th of July is flawless.  You feel like you are with him walking on the boardwalk.  You can smell the salt in the air.  You can imagine the fireworks.  If some of Bruce’s work since is a tad over-rated, it’s because people remember stellar moments like this.  It doesn’t get any better.  I can’t imagine a song more fitting for the 4th of July than this one. 

What are your favorites?  Have a happy and safe July 4th! 

July 2, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (5)

Review: Liz Phair’s “Exile In Guyville” (15th Anniversary Edition)

July 02, 2008 1:03 PM

  Liz Phair’s 1993 debut, “Exile In Guyville” is not only one of the nineties’ biggest alternative classics alongside such landmarks as Nirvana’s “Nevermind,” Radiohead’s “OK Computer,” Portishead’s “Dummy,” Green Day’s “Dookie,” and Smashing Pumpkins’ “Siamese Dream,” it’s also one of the best albums ever recorded.  Recently, Phair has seemingly been on a quest to dominate the pop world.  While her lyrics have remained as detailed as ever, her glossy production has made her sound more like Sheryl Crow’s foul-mouthed sister. 

You can’t blame her for wanting to keep her contract.  Around the time of her third full-length album, “Whitechocolatespaceegg,” her label Matador hooked up a distribution deal with Capitol.  When the deal dissolved a few years later, Phair found herself stuck on Capitol’s roster.  Her next two records were still enjoyable with a lot of her signature touches, but they lacked the intensity of her low-fi beginnings. 

Thankfully, Phair’s contract with Capitol has now ended and she is now signed to Dave Matthews’ surprisingly hip indie, ATO.  A new album is due soon, but in the meantime the label has decided wisely to reissue “Guyville” with three bonus tracks and a lengthy DVD documentary.  If all you know about Liz Phair is based on her recent output, please prepare to be schooled. 

The press around “Guyville” when it was first released fixated on Phair’s claim that it was a song-by-song response to the Rolling Stones’ “Exile on Main Street.”  The tie between the two records is extremely loose.  Phair, herself on the DVD admits that the songs’ connection to each other only makes sense to her.  Later on in the film she discusses how when she finally met Mick Jagger a few years back, he said he “forgave” her for “Guyville,” as if it were some sort of rip-off.  If this story is true, I doubt Jagger ever actually heard her record.  Despite Phair’s claim of inspiration, “Guyville” is a strikingly unique, complex and original record.  To shortchange it is to deny Phair her due. 

“Guyville” is also a shocking record.  Phair’s sexual frankness still is shocking.  Calling a standout track “F___ and Run” isn’t going to get you airplay, even if the song is single-worthy which it totally is.  The song is about her wish for a real, romantic storybook relationship instead of a series of one-night stands.  “I want a boyfriend.  The kind of guy who tries to win you over….The kind of guy who makes love cuz he’s in it… I want all that stupid old s___ like letters and sodas.”  It’s this sort of statement that found “Guyville” its audience.  A lot of women found they related to Phair’s dissatisfaction. 

I wouldn’t necessarily call “Guyville” an obviously Feminist record, because Phair does come off as rather downtrodden, sad, and almost scared throughout.   It’s a record packed with pain.  It’s a level of pain which makes Phair’s depressed male counterparts seem like a bunch of whiners.   

One could argue that despite her downbeat state, “Guyville” actually is a Feminist record because on it, Phair sings about her gender in a way that was rarely heard before. Some would say that the bold way she dared to speak out and point out gender inequities was rather empowering.  She did it, while singing in a voice which often sounded deceptively powerless.

I’m not positive that she really set out to make a record this revolutionary.  If you get down to the center of it, it’s really just her describing what it’s like to be a young, struggling artist. This isn’t a happy record. This is the kind of dream record many artists hope to make to lift them out of bad situations. Indeed, if you look at the crowd of female singer/songwriters who followed her, Phair did indeed inspire.  You could argue that Alanis Morissette might not have gotten to record “Jagged Little Pill” without “Guyville.”  “Pill” is a decent record, but next to “Guyville” it seems like watered-down consumerist pop.  “Guyville” on the other hand is the hard stuff.    

This is a very sexual record, but often not in a titillating way. It leaves the listener more uneasy than anything.  Even the very controversial and much-discussed “Flower” has an unsettling tension beneath it.  Before Phair came along, you’d be hard-pressed to find any female singer-songwriter willing to be as intimate and personal.  This record’s not for the easily offended.  Brad Wood’s bare production fits these sparse confessionals well.  If the production was glossy or bright in any way, the songs might lose their punch.  Phair adds to this with her deadpan, knowingly ordinary voice. On this record she sounds like an everywoman, writing songs like a diary.   

Her recent records suffer from too many sonic layers. Here, it’s often just her playing guitar, or her playing with just Brad Wood, or her playing with Brad Wood and assistant engineer Casey Rice.  It’s all quite minimal, and that’s why it stands out.  On the DVD it is said that some record labels thought the finished record was just a collection of demos.  Phair stuck to her guns and said that the record was going to come out the way it was, and that was the best move imaginable. 

A song like “Glory” would totally lack intensity played by a fuller band.  The way it is now is haunting.  It’s just Phair whisper-singing over her own guitar-line and Brad Wood’s barely-heard organ part.  Like Elliott Smith’s “Needle in the Hay,” it’s a song that speaks much more loudly, the quieter it is.  Imagine if someone had treated Smith’s recordings as demos.  He wouldn’t have been the same.   

“Soap Star Joe” is a bluesy rocker full of lyrical detail and intensity.  She dissects her title character as pretty much of a fraud, detail by detail.  It’s brilliant.  Brad Wood’s production is a perfect match for this.  Giving it more echo and shine might have made it palatable for the radio public, but it would’ve done the song a disservice.  These songs need to sound rough. 

Even single, “Never Said,” though upbeat, sticks to a very basic arrangement.  Perhaps Matador deserves the credit for seeing that Phair and Wood were right with this approach.  A major would’ve stomped a track like this into bland arena rock. 

On “Guyville”, Phair’s goal was to be respected by the other musicians in her neighborhood and throughout the Chicago music scene.  She got way more respect than that.  She won over a slew of indie-rock fans, both female and male with her ability to weave a story.

Arguably the best song on the record doesn’t have to do with sexual or gender issues at all.  “Stratford-On-Guy” is nearly three minutes of bummed-out rock perfection with Phair describing what could be a plane crash from a passenger-seat point of view.  There are so many quotable lines on this record, combining musical and lyrical elements, but the moment I find gets the most stuck in my head is this song’s refrain.  “It took an hour, / Maybe a day, / But once I really listened the noise just went away.”  On paper, this song’s lyrics look like dense prose.  Her flawless attention to detail is her real gift.  People who were perhaps initially enticed by Phair’s openly sexual side, if they really bothered to listen to the album all the way through, realized that she was indeed a grade-A songwriter to boot. Few of her peers can match her lyrical illustration.  Quite simply, the woman is brilliant, and a song like “Stratford-On-Guy” proves it. 

The piano-led “Canary” begins like a serene piano recital but then becomes something bigger and menacing. “I sing like a good canary, I come when called…” she sings before she caps it off with “Send it up on fire, death before dawn.” Like the rest of the record, it’s very stirring. There’s something truly bothersome about the sexual and domestic imagery hidden underneath the text. It could be read as the story of trapped, unhappy lover or wife. 

On “Divorce Song,” Phair shows an unhappy couple with more clarity. “Well the license said you had to stick around until I was dead.  But if you are tired of looking at my face, I guess I already am.”  In a different time, this would’ve been more of a celebrated anthem of discontent.  It is one of the most talked about highlights of the disc, but I don’t remember anyone playing a radio-friendly version over the airwaves. 

Phair finds power in a whisper.  She whispers throughout “Gunshy,” highly quotable lines like, “Send three bucks to a comic book, get a house, car and wife.” 

There are also moments of expansive beauty on “Guyville,” particularly on “Explain it to Me” and the tremendously atmospheric and at times, sonically murky “Shatter.”  On the latter, Phair’s vocals don’t begin until more than two minutes in. 

As I have said, this album isn’t for everyone.  Some will take offense that she drops the c-word on “Dance of the Seven Veils.”  She does so in an unusually high, girlish tone for her, but it’s done in part to shock.  If all she was doing was doing was shocking us, this wouldn’t be a great record, but because she’s got the songwriting chops to balance the shock, it works perfectly. 

On “Guyville,” whenever Phair sings something shocking, she tries to sing it in a sweet sort of way. It’s wonderfully disarming. Her much storied “Girlysound” tapes were demos which preceded “Guyville.” On these recordings (which have not seen mass distribution in their entirety) it has been said that she took this approach to extremes.   

“Guyville” is a massively complex, paradoxical record, which is what makes it so compelling.  One moment Phair’s singing in a powerful stance on “6’1”,” and the next she’s singing about being a pseudo-prisoner to some male aggressors on “Help Me Mary.”  She sings, “They make rude remarks about me.  They wonder just how wild I would be.  As they egg me on and keep me mad, they play me like a pit-bull in a basement…”  In the fifty-five minutes of the album’s standard 18 tracks, she shows multiple sides.  Sometimes these personality facets contradict each other, but I suppose we all are that complicated if you get down to it.  I, however, don’t think I have ever heard an album as boldly, nakedly honest as this one, which is what makes this album so special.  There’s vulnerability in her delivery, but also strength in speaking out.  At the same time, by the end, she seems very relatable, like someone you could know and hang out with.  She’s not a larger than life rock star.  She’s a real woman. That in turn makes this album an even bolder, more daring statement.

The three bonus tracks are “Ant in Alaska,” which though a little convoluted, would’ve fit nicely on the original record, a solo instrumental, simply called “Instrumental” which would have also fit, and an uncharacteristic reggae cover of Lyn Taitt’s “Say You,” which though good, stands out from the rest and doesn’t quite fit the album’s context.  It is, however still a welcome addition.         

After watching the bonus DVD, there’s no doubt about the album’s impact.  Phair interviews everyone from John Cusack, to indie-producer god Steve Albini, to NPR’s Ira Glass, to some of the guys from Matador, to the album’s rumored inspiration, Urge Overkill’s Nash Kato.  The film is jam-packed with interesting stories about how the record was made, promoted and toured.  There’s even a section where female listeners talk about how important the record was and still is to them. 

The timing couldn’t be better for this reissue.  The world needs to hear this album again.  Most of all, this was probably an excellent exercise for Phair herself.  After being run through the ringers of the pop world for a few years, my guess is that it must be nice to reconnect with her roots.  She has said in recent interviews that Capitol left her disillusioned and frustrated.  Now that she is back on an indie, maybe she can make the record she wants to make again. 

“Exile In Guyville” is one of my absolute favorite records. I could write at least forty pages about it if I had to. It’s nice that it’s getting the recognition it deserves.   People should be listening to and talking about this record for generations to come!  It’s still just as amazing a record as it was fifteen years ago. 

July 2, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (6)

Review: Be Your Own Pet’s “Get Damaged” EP

June 25, 2008 4:26 PM

  If you are a regular reader of this blog, you may remember my review in March of Be Your Own Pet's album "Get Awkward." You may remember in my review that I criticized Universal for removing three tracks from the album because they were deemed too violent.  The album remained unaltered in England on the band’s British label, XL.  On June 24, these tracks finally saw U.S. release thanks to XL, as the “Get Damaged” EP.  They are also available digitally now, and total just over six minutes in length, but they really do complete the picture that Universal left unfinished. 

“Becky” is a violent song, yes, but not without its pop charms.  As I stated in the earlier review, subject-wise the story is a gruesome tale of a girl wronged by her former B.F.F., who then kills her and goes to jail.  I can understand for a moment why Universal may have been nervous since it is about school violence, (“We’ll wait with knives after class,” sings leader Jemina Pearl.) but there is a lesson here when she ends up in “juvey” in “cell block D.”  Perhaps Universal was worried that they’d be attacked like Marilyn Manson was after Columbine.  When tragedy happens, it’s only natural to want to analyze the culture, but when you consider the more graphic records put out there with little thought, the fact that this (perhaps tongue-in-cheek) song was considered not worthy of release seems a little bit like a stretch.  Ugly subjects do exist.  Hiding from them and sheltering the youth from them is not always the answer. 

There used to be a time when violent songs were huge hits and no one batted a lash. The Kingston Trio’s “Tom Dooley” is about a man who stabs a woman on a mountain and then gets hanged for his crime.  That’s one of their most famous songs.  Bobby Darin had a huge hit with “Mack the Knife,” complete with “scarlet billows.” There are a ton of traditional murder ballads which have been passed down from generation to generation.  Not to mention that Universal is the parent company of Interscope, the company Eminem is signed to.  Would the reaction to the song “Becky” be different if Jemina Pearl weren’t a twenty-year-old woman?  Does gender play a role?  Is there a double standard?  Universal did put a parental warning sticker on “Get Awkward.”  That should’ve been fine.  This track is basically the audio equivalent of the movie “Heathers.”  The sad thing is that the song also would have great pop potential if it weren’t about murder.  It’s one of the band’s most appealing tunes with its “Loco-motion”-like progression.  On “Get Awkward,” it would’ve been a highlight indeed. 

The reason why “Black Hole” was excluded is a little less obvious.  It too would’ve been a highlight.  I’m guessing it’s the line “Let’s go and kill someone.”  But you can say that on the air.  Be Your Own Pet may all be really young, but their audience isn’t necessarily made up of impressionable youth.  They are really rough sounding, built from a combination of (real) punk, hardcore and “Riot Grrrl” movement influences.  A lot of teenagers may view this as noise. I have a feeling the band's audience skews to older, harder-edged hipsters.  The Universal imprint they are signed to in the U.S. is Ecstatic Peace, Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth’s label. Moore is the dictionary definition of “hard-edged hipster.”

The third song on here is “Blow Yr Mind.” It is forty-four seconds of thrash, in which Pearl screams, “I just wanna blow Yr Mind!” Is this a threat?  It seems sort of vague.  Its elimination is really questionable. 

When I was a sophomore in high school, I wrote a paper about song-lyrics and whether they influence people’s actions.  I looked at a lot of cases in which music was blamed for violent acts.  Most famously, there was a case where two teens killed themselves after listening to “Stained Class” by Judas Priest.  My thesis stated that song lyrics don’t really cause people to do violent things. They have to want to commit violent acts in the first place.  There are many other issues at play.  If you were to play something violent for a well-rounded kid with a lot of guidance, (s)he would most likely take it at face-value as art and entertainment, not as a guideline.  The real problem we may have in this realm is a crisis in guidance.  This topic can be (and should be) debated endlessly. 

XL’s release of “Get Damaged,” allows U.S. audiences to finally hear “Get Awkward” as it was meant to be.  All you have to do is put the tracks in the proper order and burn yourself a full copy.  Not only did Universal remove these three songs, but they then cannibalized “Get Awkward”’s track order, moving tracks around.  This is the kind of thing record companies used to get away with in the sixties.  I thought those days were over.  I thought wrong.  The album plays much better as fifteen songs in the right order.  As a twelve song album, it was a great album.  Put together in its complete form it’s even better. 

Universal should have just let well enough alone and let the parental warning sticker do its job.  It was on “Get Awkward” for a reason.  Leave it to Be Your Own Pet’s British label to restore a notion of free speech in the U.S.  There’s something ironic about that, especially when you consider that Be Your Own Pet are American!   

June 25, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (1)

Sound-Alikes?: Creaky Boards Vs. Coldplay and Other "Similar" Songs

June 20, 2008 1:30 PM

Recently Andrew Hoepfner, leader of an indie rock band from Brooklyn, Creaky Boards, noticed that his song, the now semi-ironically titled “The Songs I Didn’t Write,” was strikingly similar to Coldplay’s current number one hit, and ipod-ad staple “Viva La Vida.”  Claiming he’d been ripped off by Chris Martin and company, he went to youtube and prepared a clip with both tracks side by side.  He also claimed he saw someone he thought was Martin in the crowd at a show last year.  There are plenty of lanky, Chris Martin look-alikes, (especially in Brooklyn, indie-rock hipster circles) so Martin’s actual presence at the show could be disputed. 

Is There A Case For Infringement? The two tracks have their similarities, but legally, it may be hard to prove.  I quote the Beastie Boys in their song “Shadrach.” “Only 24 hours in a day / Only 12 notes that a man can play!” This could be chalked up to pure coincidence, especially since the two songs are arriving at very similar times.  Coldplay’s record just arrived last week and Creaky Boards’ album, “Brooklyn is Love,” is “almost done” according to their myspace page.  In addition, the songs’ melodies have enough slightly different twists and turns that “the eight-notes-in-row” standard probably wouldn’t hold up.  Creaky Boards’ song is a sunnier slice of almost twee-sounding power-pop in comparison to Coldplay’s moody, anthem-ready, string-laden hit. 

Sure enough on E’s website, there are posted statements from Coldplay’s management that Martin was in London and not at that show, which was said to take place in October 2007.  Also, supposedly “Viva La Vida” was recorded in March of last year, long before said show.  Hoepfner wrote to E and said that he must’ve been mistaken.   He could’ve honestly thought he’d been robbed or it could’ve been just a way to hype his music.  Either way, both songs are good in their own different ways.  There should be room for both of them to exist. 

Here are some other “similar” songs:

George Harrison’s “My Sweet Lord” and the Chiffons’ “He’s So Fine.” - It was ruled that Harrison’s song was too similar to the girl-group’s hit, thus proving that even legends can be caught copying people, whether by accident or not.  Harrison's use was said to be unintentional.

The Red Hot Chili Peppers’ “Dani California” and Tom Petty’s “Mary Jane’s Last Dance” – Petty was concerned by the similarities between his 1993 hit and the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ 2005 single.  Both songs are bluesy work-ups full of references to different states.  They sound an awful lot alike and the music press had a little bit of a field day for a few moments with this story.  In none of the stories I read on the subject, however, did anyone notice that both tracks were produced by Rick Rubin.  Hmmmmm.

The Flaming Lips’ “Flight Test” and Cat Stevens “Father and Son.” – This is a rather straightforward sound-alike.  The songs’ melodies are virtually identical.  As soon as the common elements were noticed, the Flaming Lips agreed to give Stevens (now Yusuf Islam) credit.   

The Beach Boys’ “Surfin’ USA” and Chuck Berry’s “Sweet Little Sixteen” – This is another obvious one.  They sound pretty much exactly the same, even down to their obsession with geography. Berry was given a writing credit.  Brian Wilson must’ve been a big Berry fan.  If you listen to “Fun, Fun, Fun,” it seems to me like the intro is pretty much lifted from “Johnny B. Goode.” 

The "Final Jeopardy" music and “I’m a Little Teapot.” – Every time I watch Jeopardy at the very end, I want to sing the words, “tip me over and pour me out!  Bom Bom!!”   

Sublime’s “What I Got” and The Beatles’ “Lady Madonna” – I’ve never seen anyone write about this, but Sublime’s big breakthrough (coming unfortunately a few months after leader Brad Nowell’s death) is a clear, yet maybe unintentional nod to the Fab-Four’s hit. 

John Mayer’s “Waiting For the World To Change” and Marvin Gaye’s “Sexual Healing” – Mayer’s socially conscious song and Gaye’s smooth-lovin’ anthem share the same chord-progression and could easily be sung side by side.  Again, I’ve never read anybody else’s observations on this comparison. 

INXS’ “Need You Tonight” and Frederic Frédéric Chopin's "Death March” – It was really weird when Michael Hutchence died.  He was so young and still had career possibilities ahead of him.  Shortly after his death, I listened to INXS’ greatest hits and it occurred to me that the guitar line/centerpiece of “Need You Tonight” sounds an awful lot like “The Death March.”  There are a couple of notes missing, but it has the same general feel.  The dance beat only makes it unsettling.  That being said, it’s still a classic. 

Green Day’s “Hitchin’ a Ride” and the Stray Cats’ “Stray Cats Strut” – Both tracks are built around the same simple bass-line.  If copyright rules were stricter, Green Day might find themselves in trouble when you also consider that one of the sections of their epic track “Jesus of Suburbia” sounds just like Bryan Adams’ “Summer of ’69.”

The Strokes’ “Razorblade” and Barry Manilow’s “Mandy” – In an unusual move, the chorus to this Strokes song bares a striking similarity to Barry’s “Lite” radio staple.  It’s pretty strange and hopefully a coincidence.  I don’t know if the guys in the Strokes spend a lot of time listening to Barry Manilow, but a lot of critics have noticed the two tracks’ common traits. 

Jet’s “Are You Gonna Be My Girl” and Iggy Pop’s “Lust For Life” – It takes a lot to borrow a bass-line from such a timeless song, but it seems to me that Jet did it.  It’s actually more than a bass-line; to me, it's the essence of the entire track.  The song has its fans and it has its detractors, but few will argue that it’s the most original piece around.  Sometimes originality isn't everything, though, and borrowed elements can still make for a good song. 

What do you think?  Can you think of any songs you think sound like each other?   

June 20, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (48)

Review: Coldplay’s “Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends”

June 18, 2008 11:02 AM

Over the last eight years, Coldplay have been extremely popular.  They have also been extremely abused in the culture. Somehow they’ve gotten a reputation for being a sappy, “sensitive” band.  Chris Martin’s falsetto warble has become the butt of jokes in some hipster circles.  Apparently those people don’t remember that back in 2000, the now mighty Coldplay were the little, semi-obscure indie-rock band that could.  Some of the people making jokes about Coldplay have actually probably never heard a Coldplay record all the way through.  Others may be turncoats who once loved the band, until they became multi-platinum thus rendering them “uncool” by definition.  Well, Coldplay are still that same band that made “Parachutes” back in 2000, and out of the bands right now selling stacks of records, they are one of the best.  They are worthy. 

Too often, critics are quick to compare them to U2 or even Radiohead, but that does them a disservice.  Coldplay may share a few trace elements with those two bands, but they have an anthemic style of their own.  Somehow, they can turn little repeated riffs into something monumental.  Listen to how simple their 2002 hit “In My Place” sounds, but its feeling and impact are huge!  Remember the steady grind of their debut single “Yellow?”  It wasn’t revolutionary on the surface, but somehow it was fresh.  Their style is one of carefully honed mechanics.  Many bands have seen their success and tried to tinker with it.  There are many “sensitive” singer-songwriter types who have tried to hijack Martin’s signature vocal style but to little effect.  There’s only one Chris Martin.  I have a feeling in the next few years, the second-rate Martin-impressionists will be as omnipresent as dime-store, cheap Eddie Vedder knockoffs were a decade ago.  Only original innovators summon the hack-y poseurs in such droves.  In other words, Coldplay are not U2.  They are not Radiohead.  Coldplay are Coldplay. 

“Viva La Vida” is the band’s fourth studio album. It continues a line of solid work from a hard working band.  In 2000, on “Parachutes” they introduced themselves with a combination of quietly intimate song-structures and louder rockers.  On 2002’s “A Rush of Blood to the Head,” they honed all the potential and buildup from their first album into a finely tuned masterpiece.  In 2005, things got a little strange with the excellent but often misunderstood “X & Y.”  In spots that record was bewildering and it took a few listens to realize that it was actually just as strong as the other two, just a little more challenging.  Even some of that album’s detractors cannot deny the power behind the single “Fix You.” 

“Viva La Vida” is one of the boldest, loudest statements this band has ever made.  It sounds like it was crafted to be blasted in arenas, concert halls and large churches.  It’s an enormous record.  That’s not a surprise when you consider one of the three co-producers of the record is champion pro, Brian Eno.  The other two producers are Markus Dravs and Rik Simpson, but this album definitely has Eno’s stamp on it.  Those expecting wispy ballads will find something different here.  This band sounds alive and well.  They use all their skill and their established stylistic maneuvers and add on new layers of ingenuity, whether in the form of a string section or a pouncing organ.  This sounds like Coldplay, but it doesn’t sound particularly like any of their other records. 

When you listen to this album make sure you are listening on a good set of speakers.  It took five people to mix this record!  (One of them, by the way, was Andy Wallace, who thanks to his work on a little album called “Nevermind,” stands firmly as a mixing legend.)  The record is best when pumped on a big set of speakers. This way the songs envelop you with their elaborate level of detail.  On a smaller, dinkier system, elements get buried, and Martin’s voice in particular sounds to be in the background.  In other words, this is the kind of album you’d wish they’d make a DVD audio mix of in order to hear it in full-surround mode. 

Interestingly, the record is set off by an instrumental.  “Life in Technicolor” introduces itself with a soft, warm digital fade-in, before it charges off, led by a strong, ringing, simple riff.  The track builds for its whole 2:30 time-span, with a comfortingly familiar atmospheric backdrop.  Turn this on, lie on your bed, and close your eyes. 

Suddenly Martin’s vocal tone is present as he introduces the brooding “Cemeteries of London,” which sounds like a cross between the song “Spies” off “Parachutes” and some sort of flamenco folk song.  When this album was in its early stages, it was rumored to have more of a Latin feel.  The hand-clapping rhythm here is the only evidence of that.  Jonny Buckland’s guitar rings with a vague hint of dissonance.  Once again, he hasn’t sounded this good since the early days.  With a haunting, repeated piano line, the song ends. 

“Lost!” may be the best track on the album.  It’s a stomp-worthy organ-driven jam with a firm, beat-driven backbone provided by drummer, Will Champion.  Its chord progression is reminiscent of the Cure’s “Maybe Someday” (from their 2000 album “Bloodflowers”) but Martin has built a strong melody of his own.  That stomping backbeat may come in handy too someday.  It begs to be used as the center of a hip-hop flavored remix.  Martin did make an appearance on Kanye West’s album “Graduation.” Perhaps Coldplay can call in West here to return the favor.  It might be interesting.  This is a hit single if I’ve ever heard one.  Church-organ chording isn’t usually this head-bob worthy. 

“Those who are dead are not dead, they’re just living in my head.”  These are the opening lines of “42.”  There’s an ominous, nearly eerie aspect to the sound of these words sung backed by a quasi-minor-key piano line.  Death imagery is all over this record in every direction.  Ironically, the production is among the brightest Coldplay have ever had.  Perhaps it is this paradoxical tension that drives the record.  A haunting bit of strings enter, giving the track some warmth. Once Martin finishes this opening intro, the whole band kicks in and they rock out a little. Bassist, Guy Berryman and Champion keep a tightly wound rhythmic-structure going, while Buckland’s guitar once again gives us some dirtier, dissonant sounds.  It’s refreshing to hear him get a little messy again.  There’s an Eastern quality to this song’s section.  Suddenly, though the track takes an unexpectedly sunny right turn, with Martin singing brightly, “You thought you might be a ghost.  You didn’t get to heaven but you made it close.”  Buckland’s guitar now leads the band in this instant glimpse of daylight. All of them furiously revel in the brightness for a few seconds, before Martin repeats the darker lines that opened the song.  It’s a strong example of how to execute sudden musical mood transitions.  Well done!

“Lovers in Japan/Reign of Love” is next, driven by Champion’s near techno backbeat.  Once again this is bright and chipper.  The band works like an intricate machine led by Marin’s pounding piano.  When Buckland’s (still pleasantly dirty) guitar enters to add another rhythmic element, it becomes clear why this band is so beloved.  They’re extremely skilled.  A murky, ambient tone threatens to attack the track, but the band plays as if fighting to be heard.  It’s a smart move displaying a vitality rarely exhibited.

Why this track consists of two songs is really unclear.  They don’t really fade into each other. “Lovers in Japan” rocks out, while “Reign of Love” is a softer, yet expertly crafted ballad.  Martin’s piano playing here sounds like raindrops trickling on a pond. Echoing guitar elements make the structure even more enthralling. 

“Yes” is seven minutes long.  Its piano and string-section opening is deceiving.  A few seconds in, it get a bluesy walk, and Buckland, (still branching out) gives us some more interesting sounds.  Martin sings here in the lowest register of his voice.  It’s something he rarely does, and it gives the song a pleasant creepiness.  Berryman’s bass bounces like a rubber-band, and suddenly the track sounds like a war between an electric roadhouse blues guitar and an Indian-style string section.  In this chorus, Martin slinks out the lines, “If you’d only say yes. / Whether you will is anybody’s guess. / God, only God knows I’m trying my best. / But I’m just so tired of this loneliness.”  He sings like either a man at the end of his rope or like someone about ready to accept a deal with the devil. The fact that Martin has this dark element to him is thoroughly surprising. When his voice lifts to a more recognizable level, there’s an unexpected lift.  This is awesome in every which way. 

Halfway through the track, it seemingly ends.  Suddenly a fuzzed-out guitar fills the speakers and in comes Martin’s falsetto, drenched in reverb.  If you listen carefully, there’s also a low vocal part buried in the mix.  Once again, Buckland is really branching out.  On this record he shows the harder edge he had on “Yellow” and “Shiver.”  This is not mellow or sleepy.  This is a rock record. 

You will know the song “Viva La Vida,” because it is the band’s current single.  It’s ubiquitous thanks to the fine people at Apple.  It also as it turns out has become the band’s highest charting single on Billboard’s “Hot 100” singles chart. (As I write this, it stands at #2.)  Backed by a stellar string-section, Martin sings like a fallen leader. “That was when I ruled the world.”  Religious symbolism is all about with mentions of “missionaries” and “Roman-Catholic choirs,” and once again Champion is backing this with a pounding, near techno stomp.  It’s a lot to digest, but it’s the kind of thing Coldplay are experts at pulling off.  It seems lofty, because it is.  It’s impossibly grand, but it works. 

“Violet Hill” was the band’s first single off the record.  It started streaming off their myspace page a couple of months ago.  Again, flanked by ambience, the track shows a darker side.  Martin’s voice echoes with authority, as he sternly pounds out chords with the intensity of a soldier forging his way into battle.  Buckland rocks again with some intense guitar accents, and the song marches along at a brisk pace.  It sounds like an old-time-y battle hymn.  It sounds like something passed down for many generations and given a modern arrangement.  It doesn’t sound like something on a pop album.  That’s a good quality. 

“Strawberry Swing” is lighter with Champion and a string section giving the illusion of a marching band, while Buckland plays an intricately layered, two-part guitar line.  It’s a piece that constantly moves with an upbeat soul.  Martin sings, “It’s such a perfect day.”  You can almost imagine him swinging back and forth with a giant grin on his face.  This is a definite option for a surprising leftfield single. 

The album closes with “Death and All His Friends,” which shows the band’s more famous softer side to thrilling effect.  Martin sings in a soft, friendly, near whisper.  “So come over, just be patient and don’t worry.”  As a lyricist, you believe him.  He delivers these words with a comforting sincerity.   There’s pleasant interplay between Martin’s piano and Buckland’s guitar, and then Berryman and Champion come in and turn the quiet song into a charging stomp.  Throughout, this record constantly changes.  Structures are not set in stone.  There’s constant evolution. It makes the whole experience all the more interesting.  As the track fades out, it fades back into the warm digital tones that opened the album.  The band has taken us full circle. 

“Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends,” as an album should surprise many people who have preconceived notions of what a Coldplay album should sound like.  That being said, it shouldn’t disappoint longtime fans.  With these ten tracks, Coldplay have really expanded their reach.  If you listen to it for all its details, you will discover that this is an excellent record.  Coldplay have put out nothing but good records.  This is a statement to their continued evolution and staying power.  This band deserves credit.  Excellence isn’t always easy to sustain.  This album is more than excellent.  It’s stupendous.  If you don’t think so now, in a year or so, you probably will. 

June 18, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (13)

Pop Music: The Best Songs About Dads

June 12, 2008 11:06 AM

This Sunday is Fathers’ Day. In honor of the occasion, I have compiled a list of some of my favorite songs which mention fathers or are about fathers.  A lot of thought went into this list.  I considered a lot of songs.  I’m sure there are plenty people who will say I forgot  “Dance With My Father” by Luther Vandross, “Daddy Daddy Daddy” by Janis Joplin, “Father Figure” by George Michael or even “Gone Daddy Gone” by the Violent Femmes.  Yes, all these songs were considered but they didn’t quite make the cut..  This is not a list to be as absolute. I am one man and this is my opinion.  If I missed your favorite, list it below. These are simply my 12 favorites.  I hope you enjoy this list.

12. A Tribe Called Quest – “Excursions” (1991)– OK, I know this isn’t really much of a father song, but it’s on of the first ones I thought of when I was compiling this list, because of its first verse where Q-Tip discusses listening to hip-hop records with his dad.  “Back in the days when I was a teenager,/ before I had status and before I had a pager, / You could find the Abstract listening to hip-hop. / My Pops used to say it reminded him of Be-Bop. / I said well daddy don’t you know that things go in cycles the way that Bobby Brown is just ampin' like Michael.”  It’s momentary, but I think it’s a worthy moment showing father and son bonding.  Plus, it opens one of the finest hip-hop albums ever recorded, “The Low End Theory.”  Unfortunately these days, classics like this are extremely rare. 

11. Pepe Deluxe – “Daddy’s Blazin’ BBQ” (2003) – I’m guessing a lot of you haven’t heard this song by this Finnish electronic combo, but it’s actually an instrumental.  Why is it on here?  Well, quite simply, it is amazing!  It consists of an electronically tweaked organ solo with a kickin’ backbeat.  Imagine if Jimmy Smith was struck with a sudden bolt of electricity and you begin to get the idea.  Combined with the track’s name, I can’t listen to this without thinking of summer evenings and outdoor cooking on the grill. This track is insanely sweet and worth finding. 

10. Fire – “Father’s Name Was Dad” (1967)– Here’s some great British garage rock from the sixties.  Why it wasn’t more of a hit, I don’t know, but it’s got a great, strange chorus of “My father’s name was Dad, / My mother’s name was Mum. / How can I take the blame for anything I’ve done?”  It’s really a song about a disconnected youth with “supernatural intellect.” Perhaps this chorus illustrates why the subject feels so alien.  Perhaps it’s a plea for a loving family.  Then again, perhaps, not.

9. Madonna – “Papa Don’t Preach” (1986)– Madonna’s song about teen pregnancy is centered around a conversation between her character and that of her father discussing her decision about what to do and whether to keep her baby.  It was one of the few pop songs in history to spark political and sociological discussions.  Definitely a daring move from one of the most daring women the pop world has ever seen.  Unfortunately, a few years back, the song suffered a setback when it was covered by Kelly Osbourne. 

8. Paul Simon – “Father and Daughter” (2002)– This song was actually recorded for “The Wild Thornberrys” movie, and also found its way onto Simon’s most recent album “Surprise.”  It’s a great song in which he declares, “As long as one and one is two, there could never be a father who loved his daughter as much as I love you.”  It’s a loving send-up to what fatherhood should be.  It’s sentimental without being schmaltzy.  It finds that key balance which is the reason why it works so well.   

7. Jordan Zevon – “Studebaker” (2004)– Jordan Zevon recorded this song, which his father Warren Zevon wrote.  It originally went on the Zevon tribute record “Enjoy Every Sandwich,” compiled after Warren’s untimely death from cancer.  Hearing his son sing his words is a stirring experience, not only because they vaguely sound alike but because it is evident that it was painstakingly recorded with love.  The track is also present on Jordan Zevon’s excellent album, “Insides Out” which was just released earlier this year.

6. Jane’s Addiction – “Had a Dad” (1988) – This is a hard-charging rocker about fatherly abandonment. “I had a Dad. / Big and strong, / I turned around and I found my Daddy gone. / He was the one made me what I am today. / It’s up to me now. / My Daddy has gone away.”  Yes, it is negative, but it’s an excellent song and worth mentioning. 

5. Paul Westerberg – “My Dad” (2004) – In this song Westerberg’s description of his Dad is detailed. He’s a man of pride who loves golf, baseball, crosswords and sitting in his chair watching the flat-screen TV that his son bought for him. The former Replacements leader paints a vivid portrait of his father.  The ending is the reason why it is here.  Westerberg repeats the phrase, “My Dad I love.”  It’s a warm tribute.   

4. John Lennon – “Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy) ” (1980)- This is one of the more heartbreaking selections on this list.  This is John Lennon’s ode to his young son, Sean.  It’s hard to hear him sing “I can hardly wait to see you come of age.”  Unfortunately Lennon didn’t get to see his son grow up. He was shot right after the song’s release.  I think if he saw Sean now and heard the records he was making, he’d probably be extremely proud.  Those of you who have heard his 2006 album “Friendly Fire” no doubt know that the legacy is continuing.

3. The Temptations – “Papa Was a Rolling Stone” (1972) – Unfortunately, this is another negative track but it’s undeniable.  It’s seven minutes of slinky seventies funk describing a man who was a most unsavory character.  As the famous chorus goes, “Papa was a rolling stone, / Wherever he laid his hat was his home. / And when he died all he left us was alone.” The music swells as his children demand the real truth about their father from their mother. It’s a Motown classic.

2. Harry Chapin – “Cats In The Cradle” (1974) – Harry Chapin’s song is also not the most positive. This one is about a somewhat absentee father who promises to spend time with his son but rarely seems to be around, but it’s a classic.  Chapin brilliantly draws a picture of a frustrating relationship as he discusses from the father’s point of view all the moments he has missed. There is regret in his tone.

1. Eric Clapton – “Tears In Heaven”  (1992) – This is the saddest song on this list.  Clapton wrote this after his young son, Conor, died after accidentally falling out of a window.  It’s very possibly the most beautiful, touching song he’s ever recorded.  His anguish is real.  He’s a father having to deal with unthinkable loss and tragedy and his love and loss shine through.  For that reason he deserves the number one spot. 

What are your favorites?  Feel free to post your list of favorite Father songs below.  Happy Fathers’ Day!!

June 12, 2008 | Permalink | User Comments (38)