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    Album of the Week #28 - Lust for Life

    I chose this week’s album out of excitement in finding out that Iggy Pop’s 1977 album, Lust for Life, was a heavily collaboration with David Bowie. I’ve been on a Bowie-kick as of late, but I was listening to Lust for Life today and just need to write about it. 

    Album info at Last.fm

    First of all, this is a fun album. It may get dark and deep throughout, but remain fun throughout. Iggy Pop wrote most of the albums lyrics, and Bowie dominated the musical direction. It’s one of those albums that has a distinct sound, which each track part of a larger sonic whole. The drums are especially well recorded here, with some of the best cymbal crashes I’ve ever heard on a record. 

    It opens with the title track, which is probably Pop’s most famous song. With its distinctive drum beat and infectious guitar riff, the song can’t help but get stuck in your head for the rest of the day. The song is about Pop rediscovering what to live for and dealing with drug and alcohol rehab. Though some of the lyrics here seem negative, it’s largely an affirmative song. Easily one of the greatest rock songs of all time, and a great Side One Track One. The Australian band Jet also owes pretty much their entire career to this song

    Drug abuse and recovery are the common themes running throughout the album, including “Some Weird Sin,” “Tonight,” and “Turn Blue.” Later covered by Bowie himself, “Tonight” has a really cool 50’s-style introduction. Here Pop deals with addiction and recovery. This may be the best anti-drug record ever made. 

    “The Passenger” may be my favorite song on the album, as it has a fantastic guitar riff and a nice driving beat. The lyrics are simply the point of view of a passenger in a car, making it a great driving song. Also, the pacing of the lyrics may have influenced Franz Ferdinand’s “Shopping for Blood” or Bell X1’s “The Great Defector,” but I could just be imagining things. 

    I think the song where Bowie’s contribution is most felt is “Neighborhood Threat,” which also happens to be my second favorite on the album. Dark lyrics backed by busy keyboard, drums, and backing vocals, with the guitar joining but sometimes surging over, make the song surge with menace.

     

    Overall, this is a fantastic album. 

    Album of the Week #27 - Led Zeppelin IV

    Craze, baby, the rainbow's end” - “Four Sticks”

    If any album truly is representative of a “classic rock,” the fourth Led Zeppelin album is it. At least half of the album are staple songs on FM radio, and one is the purported to be the song with the most FM spins ever.

     

    The release of this album, including the symbols, the lack of title, and the sleeve design,  was a reaction by the band to the negative and somewhat dismissive critical reception of Led Zeppelin III. It may have been the unfortunate timing in the wake of the overnight sensation that were Crosby, Stills and Nash. Led Zeppelin’s third album was criticized for being a departure from the raw, hard, rock of their first two albums for an embracing  more folksy and acoustic sound. Jimmy Page had this to say in an interview with Cameron Crowe:

    That LP had just come out and because acoustic guitars had come to the forefront all of a sudden: LED ZEPPELIN GO ACOUSTIC! I thought, Christ, where are their heads and ears? There were three acoustic songs on the first album and two on the second.

    The album was recorded in several stages, with a bulk of it done at Headley Grange, a house in East Hampshire, using the pioneering “mobile studio.”

    I will definitely say that this is my favorite Led Zeppelin album, with each traffic building on the sound and the themes of the album: women and Lord of the Rings. This doesn’t exactly make it distinct from the rest of the catalogue, but to me this marks the high point of sheer creativity from the band. 

    It opens with one of the best Side One, Track Ones in the history of pop music: “Black Dog.” Lyrically simple, the whole song is built around an idea for a rolling bass line by John Paul Jones. It also features a relatively simple drum pattern, however the music is all written in a series of shifting and complex time signatures, making it difficult to reproduce live without alteration. A rousing tour-de-force of a hard-driving rock song, it’s a perfect way to open the album. 

    Following this is a fast-paced song built on the traditional 12-bar blues structure: “Rock and Roll.” First, I love two things about this song: one, the drum pickup by John Bonham that opens and song, and two, the fact that this sounds like pretty much the most amazing jam session ever recorded. The song feels organic and raw, and full of the energy of a live band. 

    “The Battle of Evermore” follows, and this comes from the ‘acoustic’ side of Zeppelin. Essentially coming from Jimmy Page messing around on John Paul Jones’ mandolin. It’s an epic, sprawling song, detailing either a battle from Olde England or Tolkien. I would love to go back in time to teach this to medieval minstrels. Accompanying Robert Plant on vocals was Sandy Denny, who is the only additional vocalist ever on a Led Zeppelin track. All the voices come together nicely, and I think it’s my second favorite song on the album. 

    Ahh, “Stairway to Heaven.” The only lyrics printed in the album jacket (and in a cool medieval font Plant found), it is truly Led Zeppelin’s signature song. It’s also possibly the most popular song never released as a single, as it was too long and the band refused to edit it down. Other than that, I’m not sure what else to say other than that it’s pretty obvious why this song is so epic.

    Kicking off Side Two is “Misty Mountain Hop,” which has some of my favorite drums on any Led Zeppelin song, and this combined with the sheer fun of this song makes it my favorite. It’s a tour-de-force of rock featuring not only Bonham’s drums, but very nice and melodic play between the guitars and keyboards. If/when the Zep ever comes to Rock Band, this is the top of my list. 

    “Four Sticks” is an abstract of a song, rhythmically complex and rich it sound. It was notoriously difficult to record, with the title of the song coming from the four drumsticks Bonham used during the song. Also, the lead guitar riff from “Rock and Roll” was born out of frustration of recording this song. 

    The penultimate track on the album is also a personal favorite of mine. “Going to California” was reportedly written about Joni Mitchell. It also features the mandolin, and musically recalls the surf rock and folk rock movements, and certainly captures the feeling of California as a land of dreams, a place that could represent anything it needs to. 

    The album closer is a cover of the Kansas Joe McCoy and Memphis Minnie song “When the Levee Breaks,” written about the Great Mississippi Flood of 1927. It’s actually my least favorite song on the album. I appreciate the structure, but I think (sadly) the recording and slowing it down makes it feel overly muddy. 

    Overall, this is obviously one of the best albums of all time, and when it comes down to it, the reason why is because each song is great, and how they fit together is even greater. Also on the list of things everyone should experience listening to on vinyl. 

     

    Album of the Week #26 - Zooropa

    “I don’t know you and you don’t know the half of it” - Dirty Day

    Rock ‘n’ roll is the opposite of safe. It should be experimental and forward pushing, and a little dangerous. It was true when Elvis Presley ruled the charts, and it’s true today. I love bands who continue to experiment and push the limits of popular music as well as their own. Some of rock’s greatest artists are also its greatest innovators. The Beatles, Hendrix, and Brian Wilson all come to mind. U2 is also on that list. 

    U2 is a fascinating band, especially when their transatlanticism is concerned. Throughout their careers, U2 have oscillated between Europe and America, creating an especially varied catalogue. Achtung Baby, their 1991 release, is definitely the best synthesis of the two, deftly spanning the sea between their 1987 masterwork The Joshua Tree with this week’s album, 1993’s Zooropa


    Zooropa

    This may be the last album that would be expected of a band that delivered such a heartfelt love letter to American roots-rock a mere six years prior. Even more jarring is that it was released during the height of both American grunge and Britpop, both of which also looked to earlier, less technologically complex forms of rock contrasting the over-produced albums of the 1980s. 

    Rather than echo the melodic pop or wailing guitar solos of their contemporaries, U2 decided to make a record that captured the ‘new Europe’ of a reunited Germany and a fallen USSR. Achtung Baby was perched on the verge of the post-Cold War environment, but after three legs of the Zoo TV Tour, U2 felt the need to capture the historical moment as well as the media overload satire from the tour with new studio material. Originally conceived as an EP (a format that had always been more successful in Europe than America), to be recorded on break between tour legs, at Bono’s urging it was expanded into full LP-length. 

    The result is something very European, and very Brian Eno driven. 

    The title track opens the album, and fittingly the first part is based on a warmup jam the band was using at the time. It then fades into “Zooropa” proper, which outlays a vision of a future Europe by way of William Gibson’s cyberpunk, as Bono and The Edge had been reading Gibson’s work at the time. I think it’s my favorite song on the album, perhaps simply of the central conceit of using advertising slogans like “Be All That You Can Be” and “Better By Design” intermixed with ‘traditional’ lyrics. From this perspective, it reminds me of an affirmative version of what Thom Yorke would do in the early and mid-2000s with Kid A and Hail to the Thief

    'That's what I want it to be. Legal drugs! Why else would you buy an album these days? Have you read anything by (William) Gibson? It's sort of fucked-up sci-fi. And ('Zooropa') shows you what I mean when I say the textures on this record were very much influenced by what he writes about the future.' -Bono, August 1993.

    “Babyface” follows, an untraditional love ballad depicting a man pining over the woman he loves- a model/actress whose photo he is manipulating for a magazine. It brings the idea of celebrity and privacy as part of the media machine into the album, and does a nice job being a subtle jab at ever growing celebrity journalism. 

     “Numb” was a very unconventional lead single from the band that had scored big with anthemic hits like “Streets With No Name.” It’s an industrial-flavored spoken word track, and one of the few times The Edge has done the lead vocal tracks. It’s a list of ‘don’ts’ spoken over a guitar riff and other electronic “noise,” with the intent being to try and capture the feeling of media overload, making one “numb” to all of it. I have to say after listening to it three or four times, it really grows on you. Also, the pacing of The Edge’s lyrics reminds me a lot of M.I.A.’s hit “Paper Planes.” I would totally love to mashup the two.  

    The video is notable on its own:

     


    “Lemon” features Bono singing mostly in falsetto over extremely processed guitar sounds. The song is about voyeurism as well as the transience of man’s creations. “A man builds a city/With banks and cathedrals/A man melts the sand so he can/See the world outside” is probably one of my favorite U2 lyrics ever. I also think an acoustic version of this song would be pretty awesome. 

    Perhaps in a out-of-place-at-first-glance addition to the album is “Stay (Faraway, So Close!),” which was written about Frank Sinatra. It has a very electronic sound, as is typical of the album, but the lyrics are actually very soulful and heartfelt. The chord progressions backing it are actually very classic, but remixed and processed to sound electronic and foreign, fitting in with the whole Zooropa theme. 

    “Daddy’s Gonna Pay For Your Crashed Car” may be my second favorite song on the album, and it begins with some interference and a very Eastern European-Soviet style horn clip. Immediately it is interrupted by industrial-flavored percussive and electronic sounds. Recounting a snapshot in the life of a young girl who has befriended a very generous older gentleman, it shows how she has nothing to worry about-- he takes care of everything-- but she feels alone. Sure, she has nice things, but she is totally dependent on him. 

    “Some Days Are Better Than Others” is what I think of when I think of U2 in transition. It’s a very typical U2 vocal track. Bono’s singing and occasional backing by other band members over very electronica-style music. It makes for an interesting combination, especially as the latter crescendos halfway through the song. 

    After listening for this review, “The First Time” is now one of my favorite U2 songs. It features some of Bono’s best use of Christian/Biblical imagery. It’s an excellent ballad, and sounds like nothing else on the album. Here’s a link to the lyrics, because I don’t know what else I can say about this song. 

    “Dirty Day” takes a lot of its lyrics from things Bono’s dad would say, and they sound like what we in America think of as nuggets of Irish wisdom. “You can’t even remember/what I’m trying to forget” and “The days run away like horses over hills.” Perhaps the most powerful lyrics in the song, especially since the passing of Bono’s father in 2001:

    Wake up
    Somethings you can’t get around
    I’m in you
    More so when they put me in the ground

     Closing the album is a true meeting of digital and analog. Johnny Cash sings lead vocals in a song titled “The Wanderer” about a man searching for God in a post-apocalyptic world. Adam Clayton’s bass line, though distorted, is the predominant instrument here, and it serves as a distorted echo of the guitar work on Cash’s “I Walk the Line.” It’s a haunting song, and it truly shows of Cash as the master storyteller as well as being an awesome thematic coda for this idea of the future.

    As a bonus, “Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me,” U2’s single from 1995’s Batman Forever. It easily could have been on this album, and would have fit thematically better than some others perhaps. It sounds like electronica-glam, and a true synthesis of that idea. It’s a fun song, playful and loud. Reminds me of neon lights. (Link to the video because embedding is disabled by Universal Music Group)

    Overall, I think this is now a hidden gem in the U2 discography. In lieu of me prattling on more, here’s what bassist Adam Clayton had to say about it:

     "It occured to me... look at the history of the band and then the Zooropa album... and looking at the history of The Beatles, and everything they'd done and learned, and then suddenly...Sergeant Pepper, which redefined the whole ballgame, and produced a different language, a different sound. And I think Zooropa achieves a new language for Bono to use - a language that's more his own, that he feels more comfortable with... 

    And musically, I think, we've defined, or found, a sound that we're entitled to use...It's a record deep with mystery for me.' -Adam speaking to John Waters for Race of Angels

    Overall, this is now certainly a hidden gem in the U2 catalogue, especially given the direction they took with their three albums of the 00’s. Some of the ‘European/electronic’ U2 does creep in on No Line on the Horizon, but I think I’d like to see more of this side of U2 again in the future. 


    Also of note (to some): all of the liner notes are in Helvetica. 

     

    Album of the Week #25 - Franz Ferdinand

    "Ich heiße Super Fantastisch!" - "Darts of Pleasure"

     

    Five years ago, music changed for me. The repercussions may not have been fully felt for a year or two later, but 2004 had a bunch of amazing debut albums, marking the year where new music began to get good again. Along with The Killers' Hot Fuss and Arcade Fire's Funeral, Franz Ferdinand's eponymous debut is a landmark in retro-sounding art rock. All three take heavy influences from various rock movements of the late 60's and 70's, whether it be punk, glam, or even traces of disco. 


    Franz Ferdinand 

    At the time, Franz Ferdinand was my favorite, and I must have listened to it dozens of times the summer and fall after its release. A Scottish band named for an assassinated Austrian Archduke, they sound like a cross between T. Rex and later Velvet Underground, though the most apt comparison would easily be to mid-70's David Bowie, circa Ziggy and "Rebel Rebel." 

     

    The album opens with "Jacqueline," which serves as a great introduction to the band in all respects. The lyrics are typical of the band, somewhere between storytelling and non-sensical. Paul Thompson's drumming style, which I would describe as intricate and manic. 

     

    "Take Me Out," was really the band's breakout single, as this song was everywhere at one point. It's a powerful party anthem, both joyous and angsty, a surefire hit. "The Dark Of The Matinée" is maybe my favorite song off the album, a "Karn Evil 9" like romp through a darkened theater. 

     

    Meanwhile, "This Fire" is probably the best song written about sexual desire since the mid-Eighties. It's also notable for being played during during Calgary Flames home games. 

     

    "Darts of Pleasure is my second favorite song on the album, and is just a "super fantastic" fun song. The popularity of the song among FF fans has led to at least one incident of darts being thrown at them on stage. 

     

    Overall, I don't think the album quite holds up to the heaps of praise it received in '04, but I still think the album is infinitely listenable, an a spectacular debut. Their two successive albums have not been quite as good, but I will always have a fond place for Franz Ferdinand for brining me back...to the present.  

     

    AOTW #24 - Songs in the Attic

    Billy Joel is another one of those artists I grew up with. He was one of the first musicians I learned to recognize by ear, and I still enjoy his music today. He's a magnificent performer and musician, although I think he peaked early, with Glass Houses being his last truly great studio album. The album I want to discuss here is his first live album/compilation, Songs in the Attic. Released a year after the aforementioned Glass Houses, it caps off this era of his career not by capturing live performances of his greatest hits, but by his overlooked gems. No "Piano Man" or "Scenes from an Italian Restaurant" here, and I think that makes the overall album much deeper. We all know the hits, but here's some songs that perhaps under different circumstances, would have been. 

    Listen to this album here!


    All of the songs were recorded at live performances in June and July of 1980, and according to Joel's liner notes, was meant to appeal to new fans who discovered Joel on his 1977 critical and commercial success, The Stranger. Consequently, all of the songs are from Joel's first four LPs. On those albums, Joel was always backed by session musicians, but by the 1980 tour Joel had a consistent backing band featuring saxophonist Richie Cannata, bassist Doug Stegmeyer, and one of my favorite rock drummers, Liberty DeVitto. 

    The album opens with the machine whir of "Miami 2017 (Seen the Lights Go Out on Broadway)," which was the final track on the 1976 album Turnstiles. The song depicts the dismantling of New York City after either a major disaster or the rest of the country decided to give up on saving the city, making it an ironic closing to an album that celebrated Joel's return to his favorite city. This version is almost twice as powerful as the studio version, the band sounding much stronger and Joel's vocals much more impassioned in front of the live crowd. After the events of September 11, 2001, the song began to take on new meaning to both Joel and his fans. Performing at a benefit concert that October, Joel ended the song thusly: "I wrote that song 25 years ago. I thought it was going to be a science fiction song; I never thought it would happen. But unlike the end of that song, we ain't going anywhere!"

    "Summer, Highland Falls" is a hidden gem in Joel's songwriting, and it is the lyrics that take center stage here. In fact, this would be one of those times where I would pull out a choice bit of lyric and quote it, but I just can't. It's easily one of my favorite Billy Joel songs, and perhaps more tellingly, it is a song in which the older I get, the more it resonates with me. In fact, besides the link above, here is a video of Joel performing it live (on C-SPAN?) from last November:

    "Streetlife Serenader" and "Los Angelenos" are both from Joel's 1974 album Streelife Serenade," the first of his 'California' albums, and both of them depicted the loneliness and detachment Joel was feeling towards L.A. both as an artist and resident. "Los Angelenos," in particular, commented on the phenomenon of LA transplants, with Joel seemingly feeling as though Los Angeles doesn't have any real natives. 

    "She's Got a Way" is from Joel's first LP, Cold Spring Harbor, and the ballad was one of two singles from this live album. I think it's Joel best true love song, and honestly, one of his few. Again, the lyrics are the real draw, as this is a simple piano ballad. It's tone also makes it perhaps the one of only two Joel recordingz that should ever be played at a wedding (the other also appears on this live album). The next track "Everybody Loves You Now" was also rescued from obscurity from that first LP, and this 'full band' version is superior in every way. Liberty DeVitto's drumming really makes this the rollicking romp it was seemingly always meant to be.

    The opening song from Turnstiles, "Say Goodbye to Hollywood" follows, and is as advertised: a song in which Billy Joel sums up his feelings leaving California to return to his native New York. "So many faces in and out of my life/Some will last,/Some will just be now and then." Moving on to a new venture, you leave people and places behind, sometimes for good, but in the end, you do what you have to in order to keep yourself sane, sometimes at the cost of friendships or stability. 

    "Captain Jack" has a special place in my heart, as it should for every Philadelphian. This live version was recorded in our soon-to-be-departed Spectrum in July of 1980, one of the great music venues in the city. However, more importantly, it was a 1972 live recording of this song for local radio station WMMR that resulted in Joel being signed to Columbia Records. In the liner notes to this release, Joel writes: "'Captain Jack' plays with much more power and conviction when a roaring Philadelphia audience sets off a kind of internal explosion and the adrenaline screams through our veins ... When we play 'Captain Jack', we are actually committing an act of pure brutality." The song is also very Dylanesque in its scene-by-scene exploration of suburban life, the stagnation, boredom, loserdom, and drugs. Easily one of my favorite recordings ever. 

    The other wedding-apropos song that I was referring to earlier is "You're My Home." (In fact, my aunt and uncle danced to it at their wedding as their first dance. Then they moved to Germany, so I guess it was very apropos for them.) The song was written as a Valentine's Day gift for his then-wife because he couldn't afford a gift. It's a cute song, corny but yet touching, making it perfect for weddings and sappy mix tapes alike. 

    Following that is "The Ballad of Billy the Kid," which is a fun song, but absolutely off the mark on anything concerning history. While traveling to the West Coast, Joel was inspired to write a "Western" song, and this was the result. Billy the Kid was not from West Virginia (he was actually born in New York and raised in Indianapolis) nor did he rob banks or was hanged. Nonetheless, like I said fun song. 

    "I've Loved These Days" is the penultimate track on Turnstiles, but closes out this release. It's a ballad for sure, and the lyrics provide a fitting coda to the pre-Stranger era of Joel's work. As he sings, "A few more times that I can say...
    I've loved these days." And I think he really means it. 

    An essential album for anyone who likes Billy Joel, and one of my favorite ever live recordings. This album speficially has a special place in my heart as I remember a particular camping trip with the Boy Scouts to Annapolis, MD where I think we may have worn out the cassette. 
    Where to buy:

    Album of the Week appears every Wednesday at Knowhere. Each week Ryan discusses an album in context of influence, artistic merit, and whatever else seems slightly relevant. 

     

    AOTW #23 - Pulp Fiction

    Soundtracks can be funny thing. Too often these days they are compilations of songs by “now” artists featuring an exclusive single or two “inspired by” the film and not actually even in the movie. These movies are made to be blockbusters, and blockbusters they are. These movies also tend to have scores, which are sidelined in sales by the soundtrack, but are actually in the movie! (I’m looking at you Transformers).

    On the other end of the scale, you have the auteur filmmakers who ignore a score altogether and focus on finding already existing songs to fill both the ‘score’ and the diegetic music. Two such auteurs are Wes Anderson (The Life Aquatic, The Royal Tennenbaums) and Quentin Tarantino (Reservoir Dogs, Kill Bill). I’ve been listening to Tarantino’s soundtracks a lot lately because of Inglourious Basterds (review).

    The first soundtrack I ever got of his was Pulp Fiction. I’d always been pretty good at picking up on score cues, but Pulp Fiction was one of the first movies where I picked up on the songs in the movie the first time through. Perhaps most importantly, it made me fall in love with surf rock, which is a genre I seem to immerse myself in whenever the spring starts to give way to summer, when the sun just seems brighter, the sky bluer, and fuels the urge to just keep driving ‘til I hit the beach.


    Pulp Fiction

    The soundtrack opens with a clip of the first scene of the movie, and then launches into the Dick Dale and His Del-Tones version of “Miserlou,” which plays over the opening credits of the movie. Based on a traditional Greek song, Dick Dale heard “Miserlou” often in his Lebanese-Americans parents’ acts in ethnic nightclubs. It is a signature tune of the surf rock genre, billowing guitar chords over pounding drums, creating a driving rock beat.

    The next music track is Kool & The Gang’s “Jungle Boogie,” which plays through Vincent and Jules’ radio. A classic funk song featuring a soaring horn feature repeated at various points in the song, the song is also notable for its deep, spoken word refrain. It was a nightclub staple after its 1973 release, and is exemplary of pre-disco Kool & the Gang.

    From funk we move to R&B with Al Green’s classic “Let’s Stay Together,” one of his signature tunes. It’s one of the all-time great love songs, and definitely in my “Top Five Side One Track One” list. Green’s voice is so smooth here, and I honestly just don’t know how anyone could dislike this song.

    Back to surf rock with “Bustin’ Surfboards” by the Tornadoes, which was the first big instrumental surf rock hit. Besides having that laid back California sound, the song is perhaps most notable for incorporating a recording of the ocean from beginning to the end of the song. Besides announcing the arrival of surf rock as an up-and-coming subgenre, it serves to add a natural rhythm section to the sound, supplementing the drums and bass. More importantly, this literal surf sound brings the image of the beach and waves to the mind of the listener.

    Then we head to “Lonesome Town,” Ricky Nelson’s 1958 top ten hit. It’s a solemn, soulful reflection on lost love. In the movie, it plays in the background of Vincent and Mia’s conversation at Jack Rabbit Slim’s. Nelson’s rockabilly croon rolls out over his quiet guitar playing as he wistfully tells about a place “where lovers go/to cry their troubles away,” a place where hopeless romantic congregate. It’s haunting, yet heartfelt, and is easily a song I never would have discovered if not for Tarantino.

    A single guitar and an R&B beat announce Dusty Springfield’s 1968 hit “Son of a Preacher Man,” which is easily my favorite song on the soundtrack. Originally offered to Aretha Franklin (who turned it down), Dusty’s voice is sweet all over this track, and merges perfectly with the relatively simple R&B arrangement, which serves to place emphases on Dusty’s voice and the emotions relayed in the lyrics. Awesome.

    Another surf rock instrumental follows, coming from Buce Willis’ character’s storyline. “Bullwinkle Part II” by The Centurians is a dark, jazzy number, with a lone saxophone playing most of the melody. What’s really cool about it on this soundtrack is how well the growl of Zed’s chopper blends into opening bass line of the song.

    Fittingly, the soundtrack’s entry from classic ‘50’s rock ‘n’ roll is from the scene at Jack Rabbit Slim’s nostalgia café. I’m a sucker for a catchy Chuck Berry song, and “You Never Can Tell” is no exception. A really fun piano line forms the foundation for this song, and the saxophone provides the flair that makes thing song pop.

    “Girl, You’ll Be a Woman Soon,” as covered by Urge Overkill, was the single from the soundtrack. It’s one of my favorite Neil Diamond songs, and to be honest, I don’t like the Urge Overkill quite as much, even though it’s a pretty much a straight cover, I don’t know really know why. It may be Nash Kato’s vocals, or it may be the way the instruments were mixed.  

    “If Love is a Red Dress” is my least favorite song on the album, except for the whistling, which is rad. The third surf rock instrumental is up next, The Revels’ Commanche. It’s a mildly threatening song made so by the roaring sax playing.

    That’s followed by The Statler Brothers’ “Flowers on the Wall,” a humorous account of a man’s isolated life and his daily activities such as, "Counting flowers on the wall/that don't bother me at all/playing solitaire till dawn with a deck of fifty-one/smoking cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo." Just a fun song all around, and Bruce Willis even quoted it in Die Hard With a Vengence.

    The final song on the track is The Lively Ones’ “Surf Rider,” and also features prominently in the last sequence in the diner, in which Vincent and Jules leave following the events at the beginning of the film. It’s a song that just screams “cool,” quite the opposite of the characters’ appearance at the time, but shows they have not lost their Fonzie status. Great guitar licks and more of that laid back drumming style wraps up the music on the album.

    Interspersed with all this music are snippets of Tarantino’s other signature, dialogue. While it’s kind of neat, I think my preference would be to drop it all together, but there’s not enough of it to be really annoying, and the dialogue selections are all fairly excellent to boot.

    If you like the movie, you should have the soundtrack. Both are some of my all-time favorites in their respective categories, and for good reason.

     

    [iTunes]
    [Amazon mp3]

    Album of the Week appears every Wednesday at Knowhere. Each week Ryan discusses an album in context of influence, artistic merit, and whatever else seems slightly relevant. 

     

    AOTW #22 - 2112

    it was inevitable. I am a huge Rush fan, and so at some point one of their albums would show up in this feature. I discovered Rush back in high school, as we used to listen to music in the band room after school. For me, it was like a great revelation. I can’t put properly into words what makes me such a fan of their work other than to say I like melodically complex music and science fiction.

    The album 2112 was released in 1976 as their fourth studio album, and was their first to be certified Gold. As an LP, the whole first side is dominated by the title track, a 20 twenty minute long suite subdivided into seven sections. It’s also important to note that it is not a concept album. Side one is one suite, and side two is a collection of unrelated songs.


    2112

    The basic plot of “2112” is that in the year 2112, the Solar Federation, a collectivist union that suppresses human expression, controls the solar system. One day, a man finds a guitar and discovers he can make his own music. The priests destroy the guitar because they see it as a threat to their order. The man retreats to the cave where he found the guitar and has a vision in a dream of the “Elder Race” the former rulers deposed by the priests. Upon waking up, the man falls into despair and takes his own life. Just as he does so, a battle for control of the solar system begins. Basically, the story very much parallels that of Ayn Rand’s Anthem, and drummer/lyricist Neil Peart acknowledges this in the liner notes.

    Musically, each section has its own style, mostly centered on the style of blues-influenced hard rock that Rush developed in as well as Geddy Lee’s signature high-pitched singing. The Overture also features a section inspired by the overture from Tchaikovsky’s 1812. Unlike most very long rock recordings, it does not feature any extended solos or improvisational sections. Each section moves the plot forward, giving a vivid picture of the events depicted, thus it never feels like it drags because each section on average is about two and a half minutes in length which fits into average pop song parameters.

    Side two starts out with “Passage to Bangkok,” a song that features a distinctive guitar riff that drives the song forward. It’s also notable for being one of the few obvious references to drug use in Rush’s catalogue. The common interpretation of the song is that of a wine tour for marijuana, touring the world to sample the best strains. It’s a rollicking light song, a sharp contrast from the sci-fi seriousness of side one.  

    Neil Peart is a huge fan of the Twilight Zone, and the song of the same name on this album takes its lyrics from two episodes of the show, “Will the Real Martian Please Stand Up?” and “Stopover in a Quiet Town.” Intended as a tribute to the show, it features a solid backbeat throughout the verses (which describe the episodes) and a brooding chorus. Also, I think Rod Serling’s closing from the second episode is worth sharing:

    The moral of what you've just seen is clear: if you drink, don't drive. And if your wife has had a couple, she shouldn't drive, either. You might both just wake up with a whale of a headache, in a deserted village, in the Twilight Zone.

    An excellent reason not to DUI.

    The next two songs feature writing credits by the other two members of the power trio: guitarist Alex Lifeson and bassist Geddy Lee. In fact, “Lessons” is the only lyric work Lifeson has ever done on a Rush album. It’s a fun song, but both “Lessons” and “Tears” show why Peart has been Rush’s lyricist almost exclusively for over 30 years.

    “Something for Nothing” is a typical Rush song of the era, and actually is indicative of where their style was headed in their next album. It’s a driving rock song pounding forward under Peart’s lyrics. As for the lyrical inspiration, Peart states, “All those paeans to American restlessness and the American road carried a tinge of wistfulness, an acknowledgment of the hardships of the vagrant life, the notion that wanderlust could be involuntary, exile as much as freedom, and indeed, the understanding that freedom wasn't free.”

    The strength of the album is really all in the title track, though I also love “Passage for Bangkok.” It really is quite an achievement, and it is really the high point of Rush as progressive rock. They would attempt the same format of side-length song on 1978’s Hemispheres to lesser success, and this would give way to the more mainstream sounding Permanent Waves and Moving Pictures of 1980 and ’81. 

    [iTunes
    [Amazon mp3]

    Album of the Week appears every Wednesday at Knowhere. Each week Ryan discusses an album in context of influence, artistic merit, and whatever else seems slightly relevant

     

    AOTW #21 - Pet Sounds

    Pet Sounds is one of the classic greats, one of the LPs that made the album the definitive music release format of the past 40 years. The story of Pet Sounds really begins with Rubber Soul, which I would argue was the Beatles’ turning point. Brian Wilson, who had spent his hold career improvising and experimenting with recording techniques saw Rubber Soul as a landmark, something that was more than a collection of songs. “They all belonged together,” he said, and sought to create something to rival that and even surpass it.

    Wilson’s magnum opus, composed toward the end of his happy period, Pet Sounds never commercially successful, only going gold or platinum in 2000. It is however, perhaps the most critically claimed album ever released. Characterized by a deeply layered sound backing simplistic melodies, it is the cornerstone of Brian Wilson’s style.

    Thematically, it tells of nostalgia for youth; nostalgia for the same things the Beach Boys sang about in their big hits: girls, surfing, and cars. Though none of the songs are explicitly about this, they recall the feelings of the sunniness of youth. However, Mike Love, Dennis Wilson, and Al Jardine saw this as a break from their earlier style, and were resistant to lay down vocals over the backing tracks Wilson had already meticulously recorded.


    Pet Sounds

    The record starts off with one of my favorite Beach Boys tracks, “Wouldn’t It Be Nice,” that sets the tone and the theme for the whole album. It’s about the feeling kids get, the romanticism of adult life, staying up late, running away to get married, etc. Brian Wilson, “Listen for the rockin' accordions and the ethereal guitars in the introduction. Tony and I had visualized a scene. We had a feeling in our hearts, like a vibration. We put it into music, and it found its way onto tape. We really felt good about that record.” Personally, I also love the drumming on this track. Not sure why, I just do.

    Followed by “You Still Believe In Me,” a track about a guy who seems to be letting his own issues get in the way of relationships. The girl, for her part, keeps coming back even after all that. “Every time we break up/You bring back your love to me/And after all I've done to you/How can it be?” It also evokes the sound of childhood through its boys’ choir sound and remnants of bike horns and chimes from a previous version of the track.

    “That’s Not Me,” is about someone who just packs up and leaves, and builds off another theme touched on in “You Still Believe In Me,” a sort of self-loathing, and self-escapism. The protagonists in both songs want to escape part of themselves, but running away only brought more loneliness. It’s also notable for being the only song on the album that actually features the whole band playing instruments.

    The next standout track for me is “I’m Waiting for the Day,” which is the best representation of a situation which most “nice guys” have faced. Crushing hard on a girl when she and her boyfriend break up, being there to comfort her, but really being happy about the breakup and wanting her to be with you rather than lamenting the loss of the other guy. “He hurt you then/but that's all done/I guess I'm saying you're the only one/I'm waiting for the day when you can love again.” I know I’ve been there more than once, and Brian Wilson obviously has too. Again, excellent drum track as well.

    Next is “Let’s Go Away for a While,” an instrumental composition. Weezer borrowed the name for the opening lyric on their “Holiday,” and I think Brian Wilson does a better job of explaining this track than I ever could:

    "the most satisfying piece of music I've ever made. I applied a certain set of dynamics through the arrangement and the mixing and got a full musical extension of what I'd planned during the earliest stages of the theme. I think the chord changes are very special. I used a lot of musicians on the track; twelve violins, piano, four saxes, oboe, vibes, a guitar with a coke bottle on the strings for a semi-steel guitar effect. Also, I used two basses and percussion. The total effect is Let's Go Away For Awhile, which is something everyone in the world must have said at some time or another. Nice thought; most of us don't go away, but it's still a nice thought."

    Again, it comes back to that theme expressed in “Wouldn’t It Be Nice,” to run away, and find world peace.

    What follows is “Sloop John B,” a cover that forms the real cornerstone of the album. It’s recording preceded the rest of the album, and really set up what Wilson was trying to do. The cover of the West Indies traditional was suggested by Al Jardine, and remains a classic. Fantastic vocals and melodies all around.

    “God Only Knows” is exemplarily of this subgenre, baroque pop. Technically complicated and artfully complex, it is probably the second best Beach Boys song ever written.  Jimmy Webb, a famous American popular music composer, had this to say, “its bow to the baroque that goes all the way back to 1740 and J.S. Bach. It represents the whole tradition of liturgical music that I feel is a spiritual part of Brian's music. And Carl's singing is pretty much at its pinnacle - as good as it ever got."

    It’s a song about breaking up, and though you know “life would still go on, believe me,” it feels like it still isn’t a life worth living. This raw emotion combined with such intricately crafted vocals and backing track(s) make it a superb song by any standard.

    “Here Today” is about puppy love and its fleetingness. “Love is here/and tomorrow it’s gone,” Mike Love sings, about the nature of teenaged love, when everything feels like the end of the world. It’s a great bouncy song that captures early romance so well and fits with the childlike feelings expressed on the album.

    Originally titled “Run James Run,” the title track of the album is a rollicking surf rock instrumental, not far off from work by The Ventures or Dick Dale and his Del-Tones. The original title comes from Wilson’s intention that it become a James Bond movie theme. This would have been at the end of the Sean Connery era, (the next movie after the song would was You Only Live Twice) and would have fit the overall motif of the series rather well, I think.

    The last song, “Caroline, No,” was Brian Wilson’s first solo single, and heavily influenced by Phil Spector. It’s a ballad of unrequited love and really sums up the album in terms of nostalgia for times past and the feelings of childhood/teenagerdom.

    Overall, while I understand how groundbreaking it is, Pet Sounds is not one of my favorite albums. I like a couple of the songs on the album, and I realize that one of my favorite albums, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Heart’s Club Band was inspired by it, but it just doesn’t quite resonate with me.

    However, the best Beach Boys songs ever recorded came out of the Pet Sounds Sessions, and that song is “Good Vibrations.” It’s also the best use ever for an electro-theramin. Love that song.

    An interesting footnote is that the album was entirely produced in mono as opposed to stereo for several reasons. One, Brian Wilson was deaf in his right ear, two, the remaining prevalence of mono sets, and perhaps most interestingly as I await the release of the Beatles’ mono box set, In spite of the availability of complex multitrack recording, Wilson (and the Beatles and Phil Spector) felt that mono mastering provided more sonic control over the final result that the listener heard, regardless of the variable speaker placement and sound system quality.

    [iTunes] <- definitely recommend this version, as you get both the mono (great for laptops!) and stereo versions for 12.99
    [Amazon mp3]

    Album of the Week appears every Wednesday at Knowhere. Each week Ryan discusses an album in context of influence, artistic merit, and whatever else seems slightly relevant

    AOTW #20 - Rumours

    Fleetwood Mac is my mom’s music. Along with Springsteen and Joel, Fleetwood Mac was played in my house growing up long past the days when my mom would spin albums on vinyl and had mostly migrated to ‘Greatest Hits’ compilations. Like the rest of the world, when I hear the name of the band, the incarnation I picture instantly is Mick Fleetwood, Lindsey Buckingham, Christine and John McVie, and Stevie Nicks. That being said, choosing between Rumours and 1975’s Fleetwood Mac was a tough decision at the outset. This week is Rumours, and I think I made the right decision. This is one hell of an album.


    Rumours

    Rumours is the ultimate breakup album. Between 1974 and 1976 (the time between the recording of Fleetwood Mac and Rumours), Mick Fleetwood had separated from his wife, John and Christie McVie separated as well, and Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks’ relationship had dissolved. However, all of the member’s remained in the group, spending long hours with people they would have otherwise avoided. Christine McVie later remarked that the album’s title was inspired by the subject of most of the songs on the album—each other.

    This theme of relationships gone bad is clear from the opening lines of “Second Hand News,” “I know there’s nothing to say/someone has taken my place.” Penned by Lindsey Buckingham, it questions how to deal with losing someone to someone else when you haven’t yet begun to move on. It’s a flavor of song I tend to love, downbeat lyrics to defiantly upbeat music.

    It’s followed by the Nicks-authored “Dreams,” which is directly pointed at Buckingham. “Players only love you when they’re playing,” she sings, “listen carefully to the sound/Of your loneliness/Like a heartbeat; drives you mad,” a reaction to Buckingham’s “Go Your Own Way.” Like much of the album it was written solo, and then brought to the band. “Dreams” was specifically written in a studio full of velvet where Sly of the Family Stone was recording.

    Buckingham returns with the short “Never Going Back Again,” seemingly a retort to love and relationships, as “she broke me down and let me in/Made me see where I’ve been” and upon reflection, it isn’t anywhere he wants to go back to. Sparse yet powerful lyrics over a very bluegrassy guitar. One of the my favorite simple compositions in rock.

    “Don’t Stop” is a song about looking to the future because the present is too painful. Christine McVie wrote it, a hopeful ode to moving on because “yesterday’s gone.” It’s a rollicking song that breaks up the downbeats of the album so far, though the hope and acceptance won’t last. And yes, President Clinton used in ’92. I’m sure he listened to it a lot after the impeachment was over.

    “Go Your Own Way,” is Buckingham’s anger, and the catalyst for Nicks’ “Dreams.” It has one of my favorites verses in all of rock music:

    Loving you
    Isn't the right thing to do
    How can I
    Ever change things that I feel?
    If I could
    Baby, I'd give you my world
    How can I
    When you won't take it from me?

    It sums up perfectly the feeling at the end of a meaningful relationship. It’s a grand statement. It feels like the whole world is shifting the other person away from you, and there’s nothing in the world you can do to stop it from happening. Mick Fleetwood’s drumming is also excellent.  It’s followed by Christine McVie’s solo effort, “Songbird.” It’s a melancholy poem about self-sacrifice in the face of love.

    If I had to point to one ‘essential’ Fleetwood Mac track, it would easily be “The Chain.” Most obviously about the making of the album despite all the personal turmoil and drama, Mick Fleetwood explains why this song is the band:

    "'The Chain' basically came out of a jam. That song was put together as distinct from someone literally sitting down and writing a song. It was very much collectively a band composition. The riff is John McVie's contribution - a major contribution. Because that bassline is still being played on British TV in the car-racing series to this day. The Grand Prix thing. But it was really something that just came out of us playing in the studio. Originally we had no words to it. And it really only became a song when Stevie wrote some. She walked in one day and said, 'I've written some words that might be good for that thing you were doing in the studio the other day.' So it was put together. Lindsey arranged and made a song out of all the bits and pieces that we were putting down onto tape. And then once it was arranged and we knew what we were doing, we went in and recorded it. But it ultimately becomes a band thing anyway, because we all have so much of our own individual style, our own stamp that makes the sound of Fleetwood Mac. So it's not like you feel disconnected from the fact that maybe you haven't written one of the songs. Because what you do, and what you feel when we're all making music together, is what Fleetwood Mac ends up being, and that's the stuff you hear on the albums. Whether one likes it or not, this is, after all, a combined effort from different people playing music together."

    Awesome. I can’t say anything more about it except it’s the only song from this incarnation of the group credited to all five members.

    The fourth (and final single) as well as the fourth Top Ten hit for the album, “You Make Loving Fun” was written by Christine McVie about her relationship with the band’s lighting technician during her separation from John. It captures the spirit of the first new fling, the sense of fun and adventure that comes with it, and the freedom. Finally, after being in a harrowing relationship and breakup, someone comes along and love is fun again. Christine McVie seems to be the band’s resident optimist, and she keeps the album from sliding to far into a dark pit of despair.

    “I Don’t Want to Know,” is Nicks’ expressing the feeling that Buckingham opened the album with: finding out your someone has someone else. Nicks’ captures the sentiment that ignorance can be bliss, especially if you feel enough love for your ex to want them to be happy even without you. It also features a criminally underrated Buckingham guitar solo towards the end.

    “Oh Daddy” is basically a letter from Christine McVie to drummer Mick Fleetwood, thanking him for keeping the band together throughout all this. “I’m so weak/But you’re so strong,” she sings, referring to how difficult some of the recording sessions were, though reportedly Fleetwood kept his cool the whole time.

    Finishing off the album is “Gold Dust Woman,” a signature of the Nicks-era Fleetwood Mac. Lyrically, it seems to be about Nicks dealing with both her cocaine usage and her relationship with Lindsey Buckingham. “Did she make you cry?/Did she make you break down?/Shatter your illusions of love/Is it over now? Do you know how/Pick up the pieces and go home?” It’s a great coda to the whole breakup theme of the album, and Nick’s vocals are only enhanced by the reserved instrumentation.

    This is a fantastic piece of the human soul, and one of the best long-form compositions about breakups ever. It’s a triumph both from a creative and commercial standpoint, and is an essential album for everyone, cutting across the lines of rock, folk, and country right to the human spirit.

    [iTunes]
    [
    Amazon mp3

    Album of the Week appears every Wednesday at Knowhere. Each week Ryan discusses an album in context of influence, artistic merit, and whatever else seems slightly relevant.

     

    AOTW #19 - ...In the Life of Chris Gaines

    I like it when artists take big risks. Whether or not it’s successful, I’d rather an artist take a risk and have it be unsuccessful than to fade into obscurity trying to replicate previous success by being unoriginal (I’m looking at you Stevie Wonder in the 80’s.). Possibly one of the riskiest occurrences of this was The Chris Gaines Project.

    It was an idea hatched by Paramount Pictures and Garth Brooks. As the word’s biggest country music star, Brooks was feeling pigeonholed by his status and was looking for a way to expand his career horizons by starring in a feature film about a fictional rock star. The Lamb would have starred Brooks as Gaines in a biopic (kind of like Walk Hard, though I don’t think Brooks was going for parody).

    A pre-soundtrack, titled either Greatest Hits or ...in the Life of Chris Gaines was released in September of 1999 and was followed with a VH1 Behind the Music episode and an appearance on Saturday Night Live in which Brooks hosted and Gaines was the musical guest.

    However, the project was a spectacular failure. The American public was either bewildered or confused, rejecting Garth Brooks as anything but a country singer. Likewise, his fans did not support the project, fearing losing Brooks to rock music. Combined with mediocre critical reception, the album sold poorly and the film project was put on indefinite hiatus. Let’s take the Wayback Machine and see how it sounds ten years later.

    So how does it sound? It’s not bad, that’s for sure. To be fair, I’m not really a country fan, so I’m unfamiliar with the majority of Brooks’ discography. Overall, it kind of sounds like a combination of mid-to-late-70’s Clapton (think his cover of “I Shot the Sheriff”) and early 90’s pop rock.


    Thats the Way I Remember It - Garth Brooks

    “That’s the Way I Remember It” starts off the album, and it’s pretty good, if not very “rock.” If anything, it sounds more like a prediction of where country would go in the following 10 years. In fact, much of the album sounds like this. Seriously, Rascal Flatts should cover one or two of these. “It Don’t Matter to the Sun” and “Main Street” also fall into this category.

    “Lost In You” may be the most notable song on the album, an in fact, Brooks’ only Top 40 hit on the pop charts. However, the problem with “Lost In You” or “Driftin’ Away” is the same reason I didn’t listen to pop radio in the late 90’s or watch American Idol. It’s what I call “pretty boy singing,” the kind of music which makes me say, well at least the Jonas Brothers allegedly play guitars (two thirds, I think).

    “Snow in July” has a nice funk edge to it. “Way of the Girl” sounds like a lost Prince track from the same era. It’s got a lot of that ‘Adult R&B’ feel to it, but it does finally let the guitar loose.

    “Unsigned Letter” sounds suspiciously like the Wallflowers’ “One Headlight” sans catchy chorus. It reminds me how much I can’t wait for the 90’s Alt Rock revival that feels suspiciously around the corner.

    “Right Now” is a weird mash-up and I don’t know if I can properly describe it. Just listen. It’s very very late 90’s (though it kind of reminds me of Rush’s “Roll the Bones”).

    “White Flag” is exactly the kind of thing I was talking about when I mentioned Clapton’s cover of “I Shot the Sheriff” above. It’s also not meant as a compliment, just to clear up any confusion. So does “Digging for Gold.,” though given the topic of the lyrics (whether or not a woman loves him for him or for his money and fame) I imagine it might have worked very well for the never-materialized film.

    “Maybe” sounds like McCartney-Beatles, or perhaps more appropriately, Wings. However, the mistake here is that no one can out Macca McCartney. It just. Can’t. Be. Done.

    Overall, it’s certainly an interesting and admirable endeavor. I’d liken it to watching Michael Jordan play baseball. I’ve always known that Jordan was a great basketball player, but not being a basketball fan, I don’t understand what made him the greatest. However, watching him play baseball proved that he was a tremendously talented athlete. Because I don’t really listen to country music, I’ll never understand exactly why Garth Brooks was so successful. However, Chris Gaines demonstrates just how talented he is, even if the result isn’t a classic.

    It isn't available on iTunes or Amazon mp3, but I got my copy for under a dollar