Ramblings | Defending Axl Rose

Apr 16 2012

NUGGETS and The Dukes of Stratosphear

Psychedelic. What does that word kick up in your mind? Drugs. Drugs that make you see bright, shiny, other-worldly colors. Back in 1960’s, when LSD was “discovered” popular music was altered (for the better in my opinion) when artists began experimenting in the studio to create songs that recreated and enhanced the “trippy” effect LSD gave it’s users. I have no interest in going on a real-life, honest-to-God psychedelic journey…but I’m always ready to dip my mind in the vibrant colors of psychedelic music. Back in 1972, near the end of the “Psychedelic Era,” a dude named Jac Holzman at Elektra Records assembled one of the greatest collections of American and British Psych-rock/pop. The 2-LP was called NUGGETS: ORIGINAL ARTYFACTS FROM THE FIRST PSYCHEDELIC ERA 1965-1968. Anyone wishing to earn a million-bajillion brownie points with me can do so by tracking this thing down and buying it for me…

Nuggets. Get your rainbow-shimmering dipping sauce ready...

Anyway, NUGGETS didn’t feature any bands that today are very well known…in fact, one of the reasons Holzman put NUGGETS out was to preserve these rare gems (or “nuggets”) of great 60’s music before they were lost to the ages. Despite being a bit random and obscure, this box-set influenced a shit-load of musicians (and critics).

One-hit-wonders have always fascinated me. I could, in fact, write a whole blog post about that strange musical phenomenon, but instead my focus is The Dukes of Stratosphear.

Flash forward from the 1960s, past 1972 and NUGGETS…all the way to 1980’s. The eighties music scene did not look kindly on the 1960s. The era of excess, for the most part, rejected the idealism of 60s–and psychedelic music. Which is why British rockers XTC probably adopted the guise of “The Dukes of Stratosphear.” Already heavily influenced by classic 60’s English pop, XTC admitted to being fans of The Beatles in a time when The Clash were pissing on the Fab Four (and selling lots of records). Going against the grain, XTC released two EP’s that hearkened back to an earlier, “trippier” time–1985’s 25 O’CLOCK and 1987’s PSONIC PSUNSPOT.

CHIPS FROM THE CHOCOLATE FIREBALL is a 1987 CD-only compilation that combines both shorter records into one larger package. Consisting of sixteen short, strange tracks, CHIPS is a great band both aping and embracing the music they grew up loving. Under the moniker of The Dukes, XTC imitate the styles of The Byrds, The Hollies, The Beatles, The Beach Boys, Jefferson Airplane, and yes…Iron Butterfly.

Lots and lots of Iron Butterfly. You know Iron Butterfly from their one (and only) great song “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida.” That song featured a shit-ton of hypnotic organ playing. That’s the sort of thing found of CHIPS FROM THE CHOCOLATE FIREBALL. Except it’s not annoying. The record has a a lot of ALICE AND WONDERLAND-like spoken word bits in between tracks. It’s all really freaky man. Really freaky.

25 O'Clock, time to put up your DUKES.

25 O’CLOCK was released on April Fool’s Day, so this stuff is not meant to be taken seriously–however it’s hard to listen to the the Pink Floyd-eque “Bike Ride to the Moon” and not be impressed. Sure, it sounds like a Pink Floyd rip-off…but have you ever tried writing a Pink Floyd song? It’s not easy. Hell, Pink Floyd can’t even write Pink Floyd song anymore. I guess what I’m saying is, it would be wrong to dismiss this record on the basis that the songs are so derivative.

Consider, for example, The Hollies-influenced “Vanishing Girl.” This song has all the trademarks of The Hollies…the distinctive vocal harmonies, the jangly 60’s guitar flourishes, the intricate story-like lyrics. This song sounds like it was recorded in the 1960s. You could go back in time and play it on the radio, and not only would it sound of the era–it would have been a hit. Sure, it’s unlikely that the song could exist without The Hollies…

This is the case for many of the albums more memorable songs. “Brainiac’s Daughter” is a whimsical ode to the daughter of Superman’s nemesis that’s very similar to Paul McCartney’s 1975 B-Side “Magneto and Titanium Man” (both songs are wacky with lyrics that reflect the songwriters rather shallow understanding of their comic book subject matter–Brainiac has no daughter). Though it’s a bit too cute for it’s own good, the song works for me only because it’s so far “out there” with it’s psuedo-vaudevillian sensibility. Like “When I’m 64” it’s a throw-back to a throw-back.

While “Brainiac’s Daughter” may very simple, repetitious lyrics, a particularly clever set of lyrics on “You’re My Drug” (Byrds-style song) really showcase how versatile the Andy Partridge and company were at adapting differing styles of psychedelic music. Bouncing between American and British psych-rock can’t be easy. Compare the frenetic, bouncy roller coaster that is “You’re My Drug” to the Beach Boys-inspired “Pale and Precious” and it’s hard to believe they were composed by the same band (let alone performed by the same men in the same time frame).

The material from 25 O’CLOCK sounds nothing like XTC or 80’s music. This cannot be said of all the songs from PSONIC PSUNSPOT. “Have You Seen Jackie?” and “Little Lighthouse” sound a bit too polished, a bit too modern…here The Dukes drop their false beards and XTC shine though–not that it’s a bad thing but some of the magic is lost towards the end of the record. I would say about 85% of this record is perfect, and totally captures the spirit of the 60’s track they’re mean to emulate/pay homage to.

Many critics regard CHIPS FROM THE CHOCOLATE FIREBALL to be the best work from the musicians in XTC. The argument made is that by using another name (The Dukes…) the band felt free to experiment more and were generally more relaxed. I disagree with this partially. XTC is a great band, whose last two records were an amazing capstone to a storied career. That said, The Dukes of Stratosphear recordings were an astonishing feat of musicianship. The attention to detail and history that went into these songs are top notch.

I’m not the only one that feels this way. In August of 2005 Rhino Records released a four disc box-set titled CHILDREN OF NUGGETS: ORIGINAL ARTYFACTS FROM THE SECOND PSYCHEDELIC ERA 1976-1995. Among the many artists in the psychedelic/garage rock world included on this new compilation, were The Dukes of Stratosphear. In fact, “Vanishing Girl” is the first song on the first disc.

This inclusion on the “second generation” of NUGGETS is a fitting tribute to such an interesting band/project.

Tagged 1960s Super Freaks, 25 O'Clock, Chips From The Chocolate Fireball, Elektra Records, Iron Butterfly, Jac Holzman, Jefferson Airplane, Lewis Carroll, Nuggets, NUGGETS: ORIGINAL ARTIFACTS FROM THE FIRST PSYCHEDELIC ERA, Paul McCartney, Pink Floyd, PSONIC PSUNSPOT, Psychedelia, The Beach Boys, The Beatles, The Byrds, The Dukes of Stratosphear, The Hollies, XTC

Apr 16 2012

2 Comments

Classic Albums Revisted, Ramblings

NUGGETS and The Dukes of Stratosphear

Nuggets. Get your rainbow-shimmering dipping sauce ready...

One-hit-wonders have always fascinated me. I could, in fact, write a whole blog post about that strange musical phenomenon, but instead my focus is The Dukes of Stratosphear.

25 O'Clock, time to put up your DUKES.

This inclusion on the “second generation” of NUGGETS is a fitting tribute to such an interesting band/project.

Apr 12 2012

10 Comments

Album Reviews, Classic Albums Revisted, Ramblings

Classic Album’s Revisited: THE KINKS ARE THE VILLAGE GREEN PRESERVATION SOCIETY

On November 22, 1968 The Kinks released their sixth album THE KINKS ARE THE VILLAGE GREEN PRESERVATION SOCIETY (hence to be referred to as VILLAGE GREEN). Upon it’s release the album was branded a flop and the world moved on. But like a lot of great art, time has been kind to VILLAGE GREEN, and the album is now regarded as one of the band’s best efforts.

Not a bit of green on the sleeve, how odd.

VILLAGE GREEN is a very (very, very) English record. It’s also a concept album. These two factors probably contributed to it’s poor reception here in America. Singer-songwriter Ray Davies, who wrote all the songs on the album, celebrates the traditional English country-village (the “Village Green” which is brought up throughout the album), while at the same time lamenting and mourning it’s disappearance. It’s difficult to tell exactly how much of Davies bemoaning is genuine and how much is ironic. The album opens with the song, “The Village Green Preservation Society” which, though sung in a very sincere manner…if clearly meant to be tongue in cheek with it’s list of things the band (as the Preservation Society) wishes to protect: draft beer, china shops, custard pie, strawberry jam (and all different varieties), Sherlock Holmes (and Moriarty), and the whole damn “English speaking vernacular.” It’s all a bit extreme, including the assertion that this “society” is also the “skyscraper condemnation affiliate/God save Tudor houses, antique tables and billiards.”

And yet, even though the song is a bit ridiculous, to the extent that it seems to be a parody…in comes the chorus: “Preserving the old ways from being abused/Protecting the new ways for me and for you/What more can we do?” and I begin to wonder if perhaps Davies is only half poking fun. The answer can be found on the rest of the album, which is nearly 100% earnest in it’s assertion that the times are changing…and it kinda sucks.

Less about “green” spaces transforming into modern skyscrapers (though that’s in there too), VILLAGE GREEN is about how time and the change it brings effects one personal life. Ray Davies is a young-man beginning to realize he’s getting older. There are two themes of VILLAGE GREEN, both are very much intertwined. The first thing the album is about is time. The passage of time, the marking of time, the struggle against the change time brings, and finally the acceptance that one must grow older. The second theme of the album is photography, specifically as a reaction to time.

On a majority of the record the subject of photography/photos/taking pictures comes up. The question Davies seems to be asking throughout is: why do we take photographs? Is it because we love each other (like in “Picture Book” a song so pro-photograph it’s no wonder HP included it in a 2004 digital photography ad campaign) OR do we take photos for darker, more selfish reasons (like in the album closer “People Take Pictures of Each Other”)?

Davies and the rest of The Kinks seem to think it’s a little of both. “Picture Book” is a bouncy, glorious ode-of a song about looking back on one’s life via a big book of pictures. Though the chorus is a bit dark “pictures of each other/to prove we love each other,” the content of the photos described in the song are all seemingly random snapshots of our lives. It’s almost like photography as an extension of our memories. After all, if we don’t remember something, it’s like it never happened. And just like a picture of “a holiday in August/outside a bed and breakfast in sunny Southend,” our memories can be inexplicably random (why DO we remember the odd little things we remember?).

Again, not a bit of "green" on THE VILLAGE GREEN.

The darker side of photography, however, is found in “People Take Pictures of Each Other” (which actually seems like it should be the title of the more well known “Picture Book”). The song has a soft, French-like quality about it. Davies sings about how “People take pictures of the Summer/Just in case someone thought they had missed it/Just to proved that it really existed.” Which leads us to a world or mindset where, it’s not a question of “if you don’t remember it, it didn’t happen” but rather, to a place where “if you have no photographic proof of it…it didn’t happen.” I find that many people in my generation and beyond are obsessed with photos, so much so that many people (parents at a dance recital) agonize so much over the photos that they miss the actual moment. The song also touches on the albums other theme, of time when later one Davies sings: “You can’t picture love that you took from me/When we were young and the world was free/Pictures of things as they used to be/Don’t show me no more, please.” That’s a bold, and frankly powerful lyric…and really encapsulates the complexity of VILLAGE GREEN. The album goes from “Picture Book,” a love letter to photographs…and ends thirteen songs later with the exclamation “show me no more, please.”

That’s why this record is so fucking great. It’s this giant, complex mediation of life and death, disguised as a pop record.

“Do You Remember Walter?” has nothing to do with photos, but it’s a central track to the record. Whereas “The Village Green Preservation Society” is all about trying to hold onto the past, “Do You Remember Walter?” is a frighteningly realistic look at how that fight ALWAYS ends. The song is one man’s recollection of his old school chum, Walter. Walter and the song’s narrator were once young and idealistic–they were going to “fight the world and be free,” with the goal of saving their money and buying a ship to sail the world! Now he’s married and fat, in bed by 8:30. He’s not the cool guy that smoked and drank, and had a bunch of fun with his “mates.” Now he’s this empty shell of the free-spirited kid he once was. And, as the narrator laments, “Walter, you are just an echo of a world I knew so long ago/If you saw me now you wouldn’t even know my name.” This suggests to me, that the narrator–like Walter, lost that battle against time. There is a brief respite from the gloom, tucked away at the end of “Do You Remember Walter?” when Davies sings: “And if I talked about the old times you’d get bored and you ll have nothing more to say/Yes people often change, but memories of people can remain.” Which, in a way, reflects on the albums other theme of photography, in that like our memories, photos can preserve events AND people in the past forever. So Walter is gone, but never forgotten.

A bit of hope.

“Village Green” is a slower song, one that’s essentially a list of all thing country things that the narrator/Davies misses about pastoral Brittan. It’s a good song, notable for mentioning the titular green-space AND also referencing photographs: “American tourists flock to see the village green/They snap their photographs and say gawd darn it/Isn’t it a pretty scene?”

The Kinks ape The Yardbirds on “The Last of the Steam-Powered Trains” which shares many thematic similarities to “Do You Remember Walter?” It’s a bluesy-harmonica fueled stomp that finds Davies proclaiming that he is the last “of the good, old fashioned, steam-powered trains.” This of course, is used as a metaphor for Davies/the narrator’s staunch stand against the endless parade of time: “I’m the last of the good old renegades/All my friends are all middle class and grey/But I live in a museum, so I’m okay.” It’s about trains, but it’s also about being that last holdout against growing up and adult responsibilities.

But it’s not all heavy on VILLAGE GREEN. The album has fifteen tracks, and some have very little to do with any larger theme (except in the most abstract sense). Of these, I enjoy the vaudevillian “Sitting By the Riverside.” With it’s heavy use of keyboard (there’s a great freak-out moment mid-way the song, when the keyboard reaches this climax…this thunderous peak, then crashes and the vocals kick back in, it’s fucking great) and laid-back vocal harmonies, this song reminds me of the Beatles-throwback songs like “Your Mother Should Know” or “When I’m Sixty-Four,” in that it’s a rock band playing a song in a style their parents would have liked. I always find those kind of songs fascinating.

Another non-theme related song I find really interesting is “Big Sky.” “Big Sky” is a trippy, near-psychedelic song–that’s nearly spoken-word. Davies croons and wails about all the injustice/terrible things that the song’s “character” the sky (Big Sky) looks down upon…and shrugs. He shrugs because he’s, well because he’s just so gosh darn big, and our problems are just so small. Is Big Sky God? Does God, like Big Sky, see our problems and find him/her/itself too powerful or mighty to help? Or is Davies being a bit sarcastic, is Big Sky not really overwhelmed but rather complacent?

“People lift up their hands and they look up to the big sky/But big sky is too big to sympathize/Big Sky’s too occupied/Though he would like to try/And he feels bad inside/Big sky’s too big to cry.”

What is Big Sky “too occupied” doing? Is he too busy staring down at our suffering to do anything about it? Maybe God’s hypnotized in such a manner, maybe that’s why we have war and disease and suffering. Then again, isn’t that what we all do? Don’t we as people look at other suffering and throw our hands up and say “I’m too busy to help!” What are we too busy doing? If The Kink’s “Big Sky” is God, then we were certainly made in his/her/it’s image.

From contemplating such large, theological questions, The Kinks switch over to the “Star-fucker” phenomenon on the song “Starstruck.” Which of course is about a girl who runs around, going nuts because she’s starstruck. Other album oddities include a song about fat cat (“Phenomenal Cat”), and an Orwellian-ode to Animal control of the world (“Animal Farm”). All three of these tracks make fantastic use of the mellotron–which allowed the band to simulate woodwind instruments (though they sounded pretty real to me).

I’ve probably over-thought this record. I know I’m misrepresenting it–it’s not a dodgy, stuffy old record with a lot of things to “say.” VILLAGE GREEN is just a rich, detailed, thought-provoking piece of art that, like a good painting or film–can stimulate the mind and, if you chose…give you something to think about.

Or you can hum along with it. It’s full of wonderful, beautiful hooks. VILLAGE GREEN is a very literate, yet very lively rock record. And we all know how few of THOSE are being made today. What do I have to do, put it in your hands? Go. Get it. Listen.

Tagged "Picture Book", British Society, Classic Albums Revisited, Concept Albums, Quaint and homespun records, Sherlock Holmes, The Kinks, THE KINKS ARE THE VILLAGE GREEN PRESERVATION SOCIETY, The Yardbirds

Apr 09 2012

8 Comments

Ramblings

On Genre and Space Cowboys

Prologue: Genre Sucks

Genre is pretty stupid thing if you think about it. Trying to categorize music (or any art for that matter) into a neat little box is often an exercise in futility. I think a lot of critics and fans alike miss the point when they try to put singers or bands into one specific category. Worse still, people put themselves into a “genre,” telling themselves they only like one specific type of music.

My iTunes does not display “genres,” I switched them off because the iTunes database is ridiculously loaded with so many stupid (and hopelessly redundant) categories. The worst is offender being Alternative Rock which gets tagged as “Alternative,” “Alternative Rock,” “Alternative and Punk,” “Punk and Rock,” “Punk Rock” and so on and so forth. If, like me, you’ve give up on genre and all the stupid baggage that goes along with it, you’ll find yourself descending into the rabbit hole of awesome music.

Case in point: I used to be a “no rap or country” guy until I realized how foolish and narrow-minded such a worldview was. For one thing, rock music (which I love) has it’s roots firmly planted in country music–so much so that to deny a love of country would be hypocritical. Rap music, on the other hand, is probably the only culturally relevant art form going right now, not like rap or denying it credibility would like people in the 1950’s ignoring TV. I mean, to do so (and many did) meant they missed an incredible cultural shift.

* * *

Part I: Space Cowboys

But enough philosophizing, this post is called “Space Cowboys” because Keith Richards got me to listen to some damn fine music. I read his epic tome LIFE when it came out, and one of the most interesting bits was his relationship with Gram Parsons. Parsons was Richards brother-in-arms during the late 1960’s. Whereas Richards came from the RnB/blues school, Parsons came from more of a country background. Their friendship was pretty interesting and profound (influencing both Parsons and The Stones). Keith liked Gram so much he let Gram record one of his greatest songs first (he let him record “Wild Horses” first, if handing someone your greatest masterpiece isn’t bro-love, I don’t know what is). In a way they became almost mirror images of each other, until Parsons tragically died of a drug overdose. Anyway, Richards got me interested in his friend Gram (he spoke so highly of him) so I started digging around in his music.

Gram + Keef = BBF's 4 Eva

Turns out Gram Parsons pretty much invented Wilco. Well, to be precise, he invited “Alt-Country” or whatever the hell the dipshits at Pitchfork.com are calling the music being created today that strattles the line between alternative rock and country music (drat! foiled again by descriptions of genre). In 1969 he put out the first country-rock album…ever with his band The International Submarine Band. After that he joined the floundering Byrds and convinced them to put out a country record (!). That album, SWEETHEART OF THE RODEO, shouldn’t have surprised people (is there really much distance between folk and country?) but it kinda did. It kinda blew everybody’s mind, and thanks to Parsons, the band put out one of their best records. And all he did was rather than having the band make music influenced by country, Parsons had the Byrds doing country music. The stylistic jumble was basically country music, but not quite. Thus a genre was born.

But Parsons was a maverick and was soon out of The Byrds and forming The Flying Burrito Brothers. I know what you’re thinking–incredibly stupid name, but I was blown away by this band. 1969 was a strange time, and the combination of psychedelic rock merged with country music bred a new kind of cowboy: the Space Cowboys. These brave men were schooled in the popular Top 40 rock of the day but loved classic country music. From these intrepid “astronauts” bands like Wilco, Old 97’s, The Jayhawks, The Wallflowers…hell even REM came into being.

Flying Burrito Brothers, not known for their fashion sense.

The first two Flying Burrito Brothers records, THE GILDED PALACE OF SIN and BURRITO DELUX, are two fantastic records from end to end. Songs like “Wheels” exist somewhere in between psychedelic rock and country–in a place that I never knew existed (or was quite frankly, so fucking exquisite). At first I found myself pulling away from the “country” aspects of Parsons creations and only admiring their “rock” elements. But after awhile my prejudices/hangups fell by the wayside (mostly because “Sin City” is fucking righteous song) and I found myself enjoying music I would have otherwise dismissed outright.

* * *

Part II: What does it all Mean?

Delving deeper into this exciting genre of “Space Cowboys,” I happened upon a band with an even stranger name than The Flying Burrito Brothers (if you can believe that): The New Riders of The Purple Sage. With a name like that, I’m sure you won’t be too terribly shocked when I tell you that famous Dead-Head Jerry Garcia was a member of the band. More than just a “country side-project,” The New Riders are a ridiculously awesome hybrid of rock and country. Taking the next logical step from The Grateful Dead’s AMERICAN BEAUTY album, THE NEW RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE turns down the stoner-folk and turns up the country. Both the Parsons albums and The New Riders could be classified as straight “country” or straight “folk” or straight “rock.” That they could also be (and are) part of a new hybrid of existing genres should speak volumes for how awesome this music is. That this movement of “Space Cowboys” happened at the end of the 1960’s/early 1970’s was no accident. The 1970’s saw an explosion of country influenced rock (and vice versa rock influenced country). Hell, the era’s biggest, most successful band, The Eagles (also known as “the fuckin’ Eagles, man”) was a country-infused rock band.

So what does all this mean? Well I think it’s important to realize that some really awesome stuff happens “in between” the boring, staid genres. It’s like tectonic plates bumping and colliding, forming mountains–the best shit tends of happen at the spots where genres collide. I’ve grown as a music fan/aficionado and now, instead of staring blankly into the middle of a particular genre (even if it’s one I love, like rock) I know go out of my way to explore the fringes of all the genres. After all, today’s “cowboys” living on the fringe of art often become the next generations mainstream heroes (Wilco).

Tagged Alt-Country, Country music, Genre, Genre-Bashing, Gram Parsons, Jerry Garcia, Keith Richards, The Flying Burrito Brothers, The International Submarine Band, The New Riders of the Purple Sage, The Rolling Stones

Feb 18 2012

2 Comments

Album Reviews, Ramblings

NO LINE ON THE HORIZON Revisited: Part II The Review

For such a mega-successful band, U2 has had a shockingly uneven quality in their albums. In fact, I would go so far as to say that of all the mainstream rock acts of the last 25 years, their release record is the most checkered. When U2 is good, they’re fantastic. But when U2 goes off the deep-end, they crash and burn spectacularly. Bono has said in interviews that had 2000’s ALL THAT YOU CAN’T LEAVE BEHIND not been a commercial success, the plan was for U2 to break-up. Feeling a little starved for success after spending the 1990’s experimenting, U2 stripped down their sound and went back to basics. The move paid off big time, but it came at a price. The band’s ATYCLB follow up, HOW TO DISMANTLE AN ATOMIC BOMB, was a pretty much a rehash of what they’d done before. So much so that I’d say that the album should have been called ALL THAT YOU CAN’T LEAVE BEHIND Part II.

But a confident U2 is an experimental U2, and as such, NO LINE ON THE HORIZON finds the band sliding back into something a bit more interesting.

The album opens with “No Line on the Horizon,” which flirts between being spacey and down-to-earth. Bono’s voice seems to be getting better with age; it’s as vibrant and strong as it was back in the 80’s. One of my favorite tracks, “Magnificent,” blends early 90’s electronica-U2 with the more restrained rock elements that made U2 famous. The song’s main guitar riff is memorable but not overwhelming. I think that behind George Harrison, The Edge is probably one of the most understated guitarists off all time. The Edge’s riffs can be bombastic but on NO LINE ON THE HORIZON he seems content to hang back and noodle on the peripherals of the songs, taking center stage only a few times. When he does it’s incredible (see the end of “Breathe”).

Like all modern mainstream rock records, NO LINE ON THE HORIZON opens strong and reaches it’s peak at the mid-point with the twin singles “I’ll Go Crazy If I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight” and “Get On Your Boots.” The later being the freakiest thing on record, as well as the catchiest. “I’ll Go Crazy” is a decent song but of the two singles, “Get On Your Boots” is the more interesting. To be honest, “I’ll Go Crazy” seems like a leftover from ALL THAT YOU CAN’T LEAVE BEHIND. That’s not a bad thing, it’s just not very memorable.

The last half of the album is a more subdue affair, but it’s also where the best tracks are hidden. In fact, I would say that the last two tracks “Breathe” and “Cedars of Lebanon” are probably my favorites on the entire album. “Breathe” especially evokes the fire and spirit of the classics found on THE JOSHUA TREE. Near the end there’s a fantastic cello-solo that leads right into the best Edge guitar solo I’ve ever heard, it’s so warm and lovely that you can almost hear the cracking as the ice finally melts off his guitar. The song almost seems like an answer to the critics who say The Edge is all technique and no heart.

NO LINE ON THE HORIZON does have a few duds, the worst being “Unknown Caller.” The song uses modern technology as a metaphor and listening to Bono croon about “ATM Machines,” “rebooting,” and “having no signal” (as in cellphone signal) is pretty cringe-worthy. It’s almost like hearing your grandparent talk about “The Facebook,” it comes off as forced and makes U2 seems shockingly un-hip (even the song title is ridiculous in today’s world of caller-ID). I found “White As Snow” to be dull and overly sentimental, while “Fez-Being Born” was just downright boring to sit thorough, coming in just a little over five minutes in length.

Overall though, NO LINE ON THE HORZION is a good album and I’m glad I made the effort to dust it off and give it another chance. I don’t think it’s strong enough to convert anyone who’s not already a fan, but I think it’s got enough strong tracks to merit a listen. I’m going to chalk up my initial reaction to this record to my health issues I was dealing with back in 2009. There’s been a couple times I’ve gone back and listened to something that had underwhelmed me initially and been pleasantly surprised. I think we bring more of our baggage to art than we realize. Obviously hearing problems are going to affect one’s opinion of a new CD, but there was more than that going on. NO LINE ON THE HORIZON didn’t change, I did. My life has completely changed since 2009: my relationships, my job, where I live. I don’t think NO LINE ON THE HORIZON is a landmark record in terms of the “musical world” but I do think it’s important in my life. I think revisiting albums at different points in life are key to understanding both them and ourselves.

NO LINE ON THE HORIZON gets a (belated) “B+”

Tagged Album Review, Bono, NO LINE ON THE HORIZON, The Edge, U2

Feb 18 2012

NO LINE ON THE HORIZON Revisited: Part I The Back Story

This is story about inexplicably losing something very precious and then inexplicably getting it back. The year was 2009 and my life wasn’t really going the way I’d wanted it to go. I was stuck in a really bad job, the kind of job that was soul crushing and hazardous to your health. I was working in a really dirty environment—there was a lot of dirt, dust, and wood particulate in the air I was breathing and I developed allergies. One morning I woke up and discovered, to my horror, that I had diminished hearing in my right ear.

Before jumping to any conclusions, I decided to try cleaning my ear out. So I used an over-the-counter-ear-douche-thingy and proceeded to mindlessly clean my ear. In the meantime, I lived a strange sort of half-life. I wasn’t able to enjoy many of the things I normally loved. Not only was it frustrating to not be able to hear songs, television, and phone calls—but having trouble hearing these things also served as an unpleasant reminder that something was wrong with me.

When the problem didn’t sort itself out and go away, like I’d hoped it would, I decided to break down and see a doctor. After a quick check of my ear, which I was told were immaculately clean after my many ear-douchings, I was told that it was probably just my clogged sinuses. I was given some medicine and within a few weeks I was mostly all better. I still occasionally have hearing issues in my right ear, especially during “allergy season” which is pretty much all the time in my part of the country. But it could be worse; my flirtation with deafness could have been permanent. As a music nerd and rock geek, I can’t imagine a life without music.

When my ear was really bad, U2’s album NO LINE ON THE HORIZON came out. Despite my diminished hearing, I went out and bought the album. I popped it into the CD player of my car and struggled to get into the songs, but I wasn’t in the mood and I couldn’t really enjoy it. Later on, when my hearing problems pretty much went away, I heard a few of the songs—mostly used in advertising. I didn’t think they were horrible, but I didn’t have much enthusiasm for listening to the album. I tossed NO LINE ON THE HORIZION aside and life moved on.

I got to thinking about all of this because I bought a new computer at the end of last year and I’m in the process of putting all my music into my new computer’s library. I’ve been doing it slowly, piece-by-piece. At first I thought I wasn’t going to try and replicate my old iTunes library, but I’m pretty moody when it comes to music. Albums and songs I didn’t miss or need last week are suddenly giant, embarrassing holes in my computer’s collection. So I said “the hell with it” and have started piling it all onto my hard drive—and during the project I happened upon NO LINE ON THE HORIZON. I still have it, because years ago I forever gave up on the notion of selling my CD’s.

Once, during a very dark period of my life, I was unemployed and forced to liquidate a rather substantial portion of my CD collection. I only sold things that I was certain I would never miss, but alas, I’ve spent the better part of a decade re-buying many classic, essential albums. Of course, I didn’t re-purchase that Shaggy album and a few other dodgy musical choices I’d made in my youth.

Between the years of 2001 and 2007 U2 was a very big influence on me. Prior to that time I’d had THE JOSHUA TREE for many years but was otherwise a pretty casual fan. But their surprising return-to-form on 2000’s ALL THAT YOU CAN’T LEAVE BEHIND really made me a U2 fan. That album and those songs were everywhere in late 2000 and early 2001. I saw the band perform in November of 2001, and to this day it’s one of the best large-arena rock shows I’ve ever attended. Bono and the band were a soothing, positive influence during a really scary time. The 9/11 attacks in New York and my newly acquired draft card weighed heavily on my mind, and U2’s music helped calm me down and put things into the proper perspective.

I was so inspired by the band, and Bono’s philanthropy, that I joined Amnesty International after spotting the organization’s name in the liner notes for ALL THAT YOU CAN’T LEAVE BEHIND. I also dove back into U2’s back catalogue and became an even greater admirer. Of course, doing this put the band’s next album, HOW TO DISMANTLE AN ATOMIC BOMB, into greater perspective. Still, though the band’s previous output might have put their new music to shame, it was better than most what was being played on the radio.

My super-fandom of U2 ended around the time I moved out of my parent’s house and went to college. U2 was replaced by newer bands, most of whom I will admit have very little to say. Or have very little they’re willing to do to help make the world a better place, which is one thing U2 can never be faulted for doing. I think we grew apart, like high school sweethearts who mature in opposite directions. I quit Amnesty International after I heard one of their mouthpieces say some foolish things on CNN. I rejected a lot of classic rocks bands I’d loved when I was growing up.

I was willing to give U2 my time and money when NO LINE ON THE HORIZON was released, however I think the purchase was mostly made to honor a band I’d once loved very dearly. The bottom line is that I’m not sure I’d have given it much consideration if my hearing had been perfect. Sometimes things fall through the cracks, and NO LINE ON THE HORIZON definitely fell through the cracks.

I’ve decided that tomorrow I’m going to get up, put on headphones, and listen to NO LINE ON THE HORIZON in its entirety. I’m not sure if this is a worthy exercise, but I do feel like I owe it myself and to U2. I’m curious to see how I’ll react to it. The last time I thought about or listened to U2 was back in the autumn of 2009 when I saw the fantastic documentary, IT MIGHT GET LOUD, which featured The Edge. After seeing that film I immediately had a hankering for classic, 1980’s U2—a hankering I satiated with the astoundingly dense OCTOBER record.

What will I find, and how will I feel when NO LINE ON THE HORIZON ends? I will report back in Part II The Review.

Tagged Album Review, Bono, IT MIGHT GET LOUD, Jason's OCD, Personal story, Rambling, The Edge, U2

Feb 12 2012

5 Comments

Ramblings

Over-thinking Taylor Swift’s “Mean”

So that wacky country music has been getting under my skin again. I’m still hearing “Red Solo Cup” about three times too many during my work-day, but that’s not what I’m going to complain about today. Today I’m picking on Taylor Swift. I don’t know why I like picking on country music, it’s like kicking a puppy–it’s easy to do but only psychopaths really get any pleasure out of it.

I guess I’m a psychopath.

I’ve heard “Mean” a few times (and seen the video) but it wasn’t until last week that I’d figured out why I loath this song. You see, this song is pretty much the epitome of everything that is wrong with modern country music. The song is Swift’s response to her critics (uh, like…who is that? Who is picking on Taylor Swift so much that she needs to write a song about it? Other than fat, nerdy bloggers, I mean). Does she call them heartless bastards? Does she use an elaborate metaphor to cut them like a knife, while at the same time show them what a class act she is?

If only...

No. She calls them “mean.” And even though that’s really stupid and childish, that’s not the problem that I have with this song*. No, my problem with this song is the line that says: “Someday I’ll be living in a big old city/And all you’re ever gonna be is mean.” I cringe every single time she says that. I sit, hunched over my desk at work and GRIND my teeth to dust with rage. What a moron. Does she understand what the hell she’s doing? This song is a complete and utter slap to the face of all that is country.

Country music isn’t about how great the fucking city is. It’s about horses, beer, wide-open spaces, and outlaws. It’s about lovin’ your woman and standing by your man. People from the city are lost souls, lonely and out of touch with themselves and each other. The city is not a shining oasis, it’s a place to be despised. At best, city dwellers should be pitied. This, my friends, is what is wrong with country music today. Country music today is being made by city people. For Taylor Swift, the city represents a way to escape some unnamed bully (who can’t “hit” her anymore) but that’s not how I see it. I see it as yet another chapter in the war for the very soul of America.

It’s the Federalists vs. the Jeffersonians. It’s agrarian vs. industrial. It’s trees vs. paper money. Country music used to be about THE country, it used to present an idealized version of rural America that appealed to people in both the city and the country**. But today country music is nothing more than shitty rock with a twang. It doesn’t speak to anyone or have anything unique to say. Good country music, like good rap music, should seem to only speak to both a very specific segment of the population WHILE at the same time appeal to a wider audience because of it’s universal themes.

Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t think all country musicians should stay neatly packed into a box or preconceptions and cliches. I think it’s fine to rebel and say “screw the country I’m gonna hit it big and move to the city,” but that’s not what Swift’s song is saying. If you really listen, the message of “Mean” is “you are a mean asshole so all you’re ever going to do is live out in the country.”

But I ask you: what the hell is wrong with living in the country? It pisses me off that a popular country audience has had so much success with a song that’s essential a big middle finger to a large portion of her audience. I’m not really mad at Taylor Swift, I’m mad at her fans who are too stupid to see what a sham this song is. It bums me out to think of little kids–living the country AND the city–listening to rich phonies like Taylor Swift. What about the people being abused (or whatever the song is a bit vague) in the city? Is there a special ghetto in the cities for urban meanies? The message is confusing.

Ultimately when I hear this song at work it’s the words of the late, great poet Freddie Mercury that I turn to: “Now they say your folks are telling you/Be a super star/But I tell you just be satisfied/To stay right where you are.”

*Though I can’t imagine a 60 year-old Taylor Swift singing this song, it’s barely appropriate for a 20-something woman.

**which is actually a really dirty, bleak place with just as many problems as the cities.

Tagged "Keep Yourself Alive", "Mean", Country music, Fat Nerdy Blogger, Federalist, Freddie Mercury, Jeffersonians, Old Man Jason, Psychopaths, QUEEN Reference, Rantings, Taylor Swift

Feb 01 2012

2 Comments

Album Reviews, Classic Albums Revisted, Ramblings

Classic Album’s Revisited: ALADDIN SANE

Maybe he's born with it, Maybe it's Maybelline.

In 1972, David Bowie toured the United States as Ziggy Stardust (his alien alter-ego). Both America and Bowie were never the same again. Bowie’s previous record THE RISE AND FALL OF ZIGGY STARDUST AND THE SPIDERS FROM MARS proved to be a smash hit–but the weirdness was only beginning.

God only knows what Bowie thought of mid-seventies America…his sixth album ALADDIN SANE (which is a play on “A Lad Insane”) is supposed to be/rumored to be Bowie’s take on the US…but Bowie is an enigma wrapped in a mystery–so to be quite honest, I don’t “get” it. I’ve never been real big on concept albums or story albums…or whatever. Some songs go together, they make an album–great.

But don’t try to tell some over-reaching narrative. It just doesn’ t work.

And neither should ALADDIN SANE. This thing is very much a “kitchen-sink” recording, meaning they threw in everything BUT the kitchen sink when they were recording it. So say that there is excess on this record would be the understatement of the decade…but hey, this is glam rock at it’s finest (meaning it’s supposed to be vampy and over-the-top). ALADDIN SANE has a surprisingly harder edge than I remembered. But I’ll get to that part in a minute.

More than about America, ALADDIN SANE seems to be about The Rolling Stones. Mick and the boys loom large over Bowie’s sixth record, no more so than on the record’s opening track “Watch That Man.” This song sounds EXACTLY like a Rolling Stones song. In fact, prior to researching the album for this blog post, I thought this was a cover. It’s not. The Chuck Berry-eque guitar licks, the frantic/half-muttered lyrics, the horns, the female backing-vocals…it’s all very Stones-ish. Apparently audiophiles (people waaay to into recorded sound) are split very heavily when it comes to this songs final mix. When you listen to “Watch That Man” on the radio you don’t notice it as much, but the instruments are pushed “up front” with Bowie’s vocals (rather than being on a separate channel, “pushed back” like in a lot of pop recordings). This means that for large portions of the song, Bowie cannot be heard as clearly as if he’d been bummed up a little “higher” than the music.

Bowie defended this (to his record label that wanted him to change it) by saying some crap about his voice being just “another instrument” (or some such nonsense). I think he really just liked it because it made the recording sound rougher, more crappy–like a Stones song.

Anyway, the Stones pop-up again a few more times on the record–once in “Drive-In Saturday” when he mentions Jagger by name, and again towards the end of the record when Bowie legitimately covers the Stones on “Let’s Spend the Night Together.” It was the latter that first attracted me to this album. There’s something about a good cover, I just can’t resist it. Most times covers blow–but there’s something special about Bowie’s unique take on “Let’s Spend the Night Together.” Bowie’s version is spacier, but it’s more than just a few electronic whizzing sounds…Bowie’s attitude is softer, sexier than Jagger’s. Then there’s the little verse that he adds toward the end:

They said we were too young Our kind of love was no fun But our love comes from above Let’s make… love

Followed by an awesome guitar outro, this little bit of himself carries an otherwise awesome cover into legendary status and–in my book, is better than the original. A feat that almost never happens.

ALADDIN SANE is packed with interesting songs, with vastly divergent influences. There’s the blues-R&B stomper “The Jean Genie” that sounds like a Cream or Yardbirds songs. Bowie dabbles in doo-woop on “Drive-In Saturday,” which is about as far from the Yardbirds as humanly possible. This song, about a post-apocalyptic future-world where people watch porn at the drive-in to re-learn sex, gets the “Craziest song on this album” award. Because it’s really, really freaky man. Also freaky (but not nearly as freaky) is the cabaret/vaudevillian “Time.” Whenever I hear “Time” I think of Queen, the song’s sheer pomposity makes me think of Freddy Mercury. It’s that kind of song. It’s very long and strange, words really don’t do this song justice. I love it, and yet if I met it in a dark alley I’d probably run the other way.

“We should be home by now” indeed.

But the jewels in ALADDIN SANE’s crown are “Cracked Actor” and “Lady Grinning Soul.” Written in Los Angeles, “Cracked Actor” is a ballsy rocker–the hardest song on the album. It’s about an aging Hollywood actor getting serviced by a prostitute. With some drugs thrown in there. The song has fucking amazing guitar work and Bowie playing harmonica (of all things, I can’t imagine Bowie doing THAT). The lyrics are full of all sorts of loaded phrases and double entendres.

“Lady Grinning Soul” has been described as Bowie’s best attempt at a Bond Theme song. As in “Bond, James Bond.” It certainly is very cinematic and strange. This song is all about the lush piano and acoustic guitar. It’s very surreal but at the same time romantic–just like David Bowie. “Lady Grinning Soul” also has features the awesome “she will be your living end”-lyric. It’s about as far from traditional rock ‘n roll as music can get, and yet it’s on the same record as “Cracked Actor” and “Watch That Man.” It takes a big set of balls to pull something like ALADDIN SANE off.

I bet there are a lot of people that haven’t heard this record, if you fall into this sad category I urge to you go out and track down a copy of ALADDIN SANE. It’s a fantastic record that belongs in your collection.

Tagged ALADDIN SANE, Classic Albums Revisited, David Bowie

Jan 19 2012

Terrible Country Songs: 5 Songs I Can’t Believe Were Hits

Can you believe I had to hear “Red Solo Cup” 5 times today at work? I really don’t know what to say, I think it might be the end times, kids. Except it’s not the end-times, is it? No, we’ve seen days just as dark as these “Red Solo Cup” days. I thought about it and there’s been a bunch of SUPER, laughably bad country songs over the years. Most of them, it turns out, were really big hits. Here are my top 5 worst country songs of all time:

1. “Achy Breaky Heart” by Billy Ray Cyrus. I really wish this 1992 turd of a song was the worst thing that Billy Ray ever produced, but we all know that ain’t true. Still, this song is super-bad and is universally reviled now…but back when it came out it was a massive hit. I remember this song spawning a bunch of news stories about the growing popularity of country line dancing. Boy, we all know how that turned out. For me the worst part of this song is (and this will be a common theme among all of these songs) the stupid lyrics. I had a hell of a time typing “Achy Breaky.” Those words just look wrong together.

Oh, this guys' cool...

2. “She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy” by Kenny Chesney. This song is still popular (I heard it on the radio today) but boy is it awful. The idea is okay I guess. I mean it’s…um…sexy to be a farmer, right?. The reality is: being a farmer is not sexy, Chesney’s grating voice is not sexy, and you’re an idiot. This is one of those songs that every time I hear it I can’t believe someone had the balls to record and release it. The amazing part is (of course) it was a huge hit. Real farmers are too damn tough to care about being sexy, but that’s not even what this song is really about, it’s about sexy FARMING EQUIPMENT. Oh, country music, never change.

I'm not into farm equipment, but I'd totally hit that.

3. “Goodbye Earl” by The Dixie Chicks. Okay, this one is awful and funny as hell. So these three chicks write a song about a woman who is abused. Still with me? Nothing unusual about that, especially in a country song. She (shockingly) gets her revenge on him and kills him…by poisoning his black eyed peas(?). I’m not sure if it’s possibly to be any more “hick” than that. I remember seeing the music video when the song first came out, it was hilariously bad (Earl was played by Dennis Franz). There’s a right way to handle delicate subject matter, such as spousal abuse…and this song is definitely not it. “Hey Earl! Time to die!” Oh, I get it…he gave her a shiner so it’s okay that we’re killing him. The ironic part is, the same soccer moms who sang along with this song were the SAME people giving 90s rappers a bunch of shit about killing cops and slapping hoes. I get it, it’s okay when you do it.

DO. NOT. EAT. THOSE. PEAS.

4. “Grandma Got Ran Over By A Reindeer” by Elmo & Patsy. So this the only song on this list (thus far) to be turned into a cartoon movie. The song was inexplicably popular in the early 80s and remains in heavy rotation during the Christmas season. But why? Why does a song about a grandma getting killed by a reindeer get a special place in our collective hears? Probably because we’re both terribly mean and terribly stupid. To be fair, this song made me laugh when I was 11. Now it just makes me shake my head.

Grammy's dead, Happy Christmas.

5. “Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue (the Angry American)” by Toby Keith. You know, I think of all the songs mentioned on this list, I hate this one the worst. It’s utterly stupid on so many levels. First off, I can’t stand the song’s jingoistic bullshit. It really burns my ass that Keith put a song like this out after 9/11. There didn’t seem to be very much of a musical reaction to 9/11 (other than one sleepy Springsteen album) so this song pretty much had to represent us as a nation. That wouldn’t be so bad if the song wasn’t an almost parody of America–the violent, brutish oaf who blunders about the globe. The song’s imagery is hilarious. Really, Toby? The Statue of Liberty is going to shake her fist with anger? Way to turn a beacon of hope into a hateful monster, you piece of shit. You do know she’s French, right? “Red Solo Cup” is embarrassing for Toby Keith, “Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue” is embarrassing for America.

This song makes me want to hear "Red Solo Cup" again.

Tagged Country music, Cyrus the Virus, Elmo & Patsy, Hicks, Terrible, The Dixie Chicks, Toby Keith Suxs, Tractors

Jan 19 2012

2 Comments

News Like Item, Ramblings

Van Halen Announces 2012 Tour Dates, I Wank Dismissively

Well it looks like another Van Halen tour is really going to happen. You can check out the complete list of dates over at the band’s website, but if you live in the continental United States Van Halen is playing in a city near you. I’m sure the tickets will be super-pricy and I’m sure a majority of the dates will sell out. I’m also sure that everyone is going to get up and go to the bathroom during “Tattoo” and the other two or three new songs they play. I guess that’s just the way of the world.

Speaking of “Tattoo” I have some rather disturbing news to report. I’m afraid that all this week I’ve had the song running through my head. I haven’t really been humming or singing it per say…I just keep thinking about it. Sort of like the musical equivalent of tonguing one’s canker sore. It hurts me and every time I think about it I’m shocked and how much it hurts. Not that I’m saying the song is like a canker sore (it’s worse, canker sores go away eventually, this piece of shit song is going to last until the end of time).

I really wish I’d been able to see Van Halen back in their heyday, but I’m going to be suckered by another “Dinosaurs of Rock” tour. The last one that I saw, AC/DC was really fucking good. In fact, AC/DC was better than they deserve to be considering. But the band I saw before that was The Police reunion, and let me tell you, that was downright disgusting. I think I’ll quit while I’m ahead. I guess that’s the problem with making the kind of loud, in-your-face, youthful music like Van Halen used to make: it’s pathetic when old dudes try to pull it off. Besides, I’m not getting any younger myself and arena-rock shows just aren’t my bag anymore. Better leave those to the kids…

There's nothing wrong with being a fat kid...just don't be in Van Halen.

*SHUDDER*

Tagged "Tattoo", AC/DC, Van Halen, Van Halen 2012 Tour, Wolfgang is fucking Fat and not part of Van Halen no matter what his daddy says

Defending Axl Rose

an abnormal music blog

Category Archives: Ramblings

NUGGETS and The Dukes of Stratosphear

NUGGETS and The Dukes of Stratosphear

Classic Album’s Revisited: THE KINKS ARE THE VILLAGE GREEN PRESERVATION SOCIETY

On Genre and Space Cowboys

NO LINE ON THE HORIZON Revisited: Part II The Review

NO LINE ON THE HORIZON Revisited: Part I The Back Story

Over-thinking Taylor Swift’s “Mean”

Classic Album’s Revisited: ALADDIN SANE

Terrible Country Songs: 5 Songs I Can’t Believe Were Hits

Van Halen Announces 2012 Tour Dates, I Wank Dismissively