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(04/12/01 4:00am)
No Such Place is the third record from Florida's Jim White, who has found a comfortable home on Luaka Bop Records, the label run by former Talking Heads frontman David Byrne. The label is best known for its roster of idiosyncratic "international" artists like Tom Zé and Zap Mama (Don't call it world music!), but Byrne has always had room for a few unique Yanks as well. And White is certainly unique.\nThe first thing you would want to call White's music is country. White finds himself in a tough place on the steady twang-rocker "Handcuffed to a Fence in Mississippi," which opens the record. His girlfriend has just chained him to said fence and drove off with his Trans Am. White is unfazed, as he drawls, Everything is peaches but the cream." But there's already something weird going on musically, probably because this and two other songs were produced by UK trip-poppers Morcheeba, whose laid-back beats-and-scratching approach underpin White's U.S. roots rock nicely. It's enough to make the record unique but not a blatant gimmick.\nThe album switches off nicely between more atmospheric songs like "Corvair" and country-rockers like "10 Miles to Go On a 9 Mile Road." All the songs give White an opportunity to showcase his laconic lyrical style. "Corvair" actually makes that infamous Midwestern image of a rusted-out car up on blocks in the front yard strangely beautiful. White also seems preoccupied with strange happenstance, like the story about a guy named Phillip who works in a gas station and hears strangers call his name all day when they ask for a "fill-up." \nThese sorts of genre-bending experiments are always risky affairs, and normally I would consider getting techno outfit Q-Burns Abstract Message within a mile of White a recipe for disaster. But somehow, he pulls it all off, celebrating the bizarre mix of styles without self-consciously drawing attention to them. As White says on "10 Miles," Sometimes you throw yourself into the sea of faith only to find the treasure lost in the shipwreck inside of you. This album is a shipwreck of sorts, but it's as beautiful as that Corvair in the front yard.
(04/05/01 4:30am)
OK, you put in the Matmos CD. You know that Matmos is on Sheffield, England's Warp Records label, home of such avant-techno mavericks as Aphex Twin, Autechre and Squarepusher, so you're not surprised when the first track starts and you hear the prerequisite beeps-and-clicks of what is known as IDM (that's Intelligent Dance Music -- possibly the stupidest genre label ever). \nBut there's something else in the mix, some more organic sounds. There's kind of a wet squishing noise and a gentle burbling. Curious, you scan the liner notes and read the sounds were obtained during a liposuction procedure. That's right, those noises are the sounds of fat being sucked out of a human being.\nThat's the gimmick of Matmos' new CD, A Chance to Cut is a Chance to Cure. Every cut prominently features sounds sampled from actual medical procedures. There's "l.a.s.i.k." which features the buzz of a high-precision laser operating on an eyeball, and "Memento Mori," which is mostly the sound of human skulls and goat spine being rubbed, banged upon and generally messed about. And don't forget the self-explanatory "California Rhinoplasty," which besides nose job noises also features recordings from a chin implant and an endoscopic forehead lift.\nAnd why not? The jaded might dismiss this album as a gimmick or an empty style exercise, doing something odd for its own sake. There's an element of that here, but the truth is A Chance to Cut is an engaging CD of electronic music that stands on its own merits. The beats are solid, and despite the gruesome samples, the songs are generally more accessible than the drill-and-bass of a Squarepusher or the evil techno of Aphex Twin. \nThere's a proud tradition of artists on the fringe using unconventional samples. The godfathers of it all are the mighty Einsturzende Neubaten, the German band whose name means "collapsing new buildings" and has been sampling power tools and construction equipment for 20 years. And because it's just a hop, skip and a jump from remodeling buildings to remodeling bodies, Matmos is making the next step in a logical progression. \nJust don't play it during lunch.
(04/05/01 4:00am)
OK, you put in the Matmos CD. You know that Matmos is on Sheffield, England's Warp Records label, home of such avant-techno mavericks as Aphex Twin, Autechre and Squarepusher, so you're not surprised when the first track starts and you hear the prerequisite beeps-and-clicks of what is known as IDM (that's Intelligent Dance Music -- possibly the stupidest genre label ever). \nBut there's something else in the mix, some more organic sounds. There's kind of a wet squishing noise and a gentle burbling. Curious, you scan the liner notes and read the sounds were obtained during a liposuction procedure. That's right, those noises are the sounds of fat being sucked out of a human being.\nThat's the gimmick of Matmos' new CD, A Chance to Cut is a Chance to Cure. Every cut prominently features sounds sampled from actual medical procedures. There's "l.a.s.i.k." which features the buzz of a high-precision laser operating on an eyeball, and "Memento Mori," which is mostly the sound of human skulls and goat spine being rubbed, banged upon and generally messed about. And don't forget the self-explanatory "California Rhinoplasty," which besides nose job noises also features recordings from a chin implant and an endoscopic forehead lift.\nAnd why not? The jaded might dismiss this album as a gimmick or an empty style exercise, doing something odd for its own sake. There's an element of that here, but the truth is A Chance to Cut is an engaging CD of electronic music that stands on its own merits. The beats are solid, and despite the gruesome samples, the songs are generally more accessible than the drill-and-bass of a Squarepusher or the evil techno of Aphex Twin. \nThere's a proud tradition of artists on the fringe using unconventional samples. The godfathers of it all are the mighty Einsturzende Neubaten, the German band whose name means "collapsing new buildings" and has been sampling power tools and construction equipment for 20 years. And because it's just a hop, skip and a jump from remodeling buildings to remodeling bodies, Matmos is making the next step in a logical progression. \nJust don't play it during lunch.
(03/29/01 5:00am)
There are two phrases that will never fail to make my record geek-trained ears prick up: "deluxe reissue" and "lost classic." Yeah, I've got a record player and obligatory vinyl copies of high school necessities like The Queen is Dead and Berlin. But I'm also a sucker for bonus tracks, digital remastering and extensive liner notes. It's a trade-off.\nSo it's a good thing Matador Records gave the CD treatment to The Soft Boys' Underwater Moonlight, since the original record, released on the obscure Armageddon Records in June 1980 to an indifferent critical and commercial reaction, is nearly impossible to find. As far as extras go, this one's a doozy. Besides the nine full outtakes tacked on to the original 10-track LP, there's an entire second disc of rehearsal tapes recorded just before the album sessions. Throw in a 30-page booklet with liner notes by Rolling Stone big wheel David Fricke and all sorts of pretty pictures, and you've got quite a package.\nThose are the logistics, but none of that would matter if the music was worthless. Luckily, the music is near perfect. The Soft Boys were an oddity in their own time. Lead singer and songwriter Robyn Hitchcock was an avowed fan of classic 1960s British rock like the Beatles and the Kinks, a stance none too fashionable during the punk heyday of 1976-1980. That's probably why Moonlight doesn't sound like anything that came out of England during that period.\nDon't be fooled by the title of the opening track: "I Wanna Destroy You" isn't latent punk aggression but an irresistible lyrical come-on riding a wave of guitar. Hitchcock won't settle for anything less than total obliteration, promising to leave you without a single atom left to call your own. On "Kingdom of Love," he describes how a girl has been laying eggs under my skin/Now they're hatching out under my chin. Vivid stuff. The album is equal parts Captain Beefheart, Syd Barrett and Beatles, and it's all top notch. \nThe Soft Boys broke up six months after the release of Underwater Moonlight, which was only their second LP. Hitchcock has attracted a sizable cult following during his 20-year solo career, but it's unlikely he'll be able to top the image of Underwater Moonlight's title track, which closes the album. A couple is so in love that the pair goes to the sea to drown together. Underwater moonlight/sets the body free, he sings, over a driving rhythm track. It's 20 years old, but Underwater Moonlight is the best record I've heard all year.
(03/29/01 4:59am)
There are two phrases that will never fail to make my record geek-trained ears prick up: "deluxe reissue" and "lost classic." Yeah, I've got a record player and obligatory vinyl copies of high school necessities like The Queen is Dead and Berlin. But I'm also a sucker for bonus tracks, digital remastering and extensive liner notes. It's a trade-off.\nSo it's a good thing Matador Records gave the CD treatment to The Soft Boys' Underwater Moonlight, since the original record, released on the obscure Armageddon Records in June 1980 to an indifferent critical and commercial reaction, is nearly impossible to find. As far as extras go, this one's a doozy. Besides the nine full outtakes tacked on to the original 10-track LP, there's an entire second disc of rehearsal tapes recorded just before the album sessions. Throw in a 30-page booklet with liner notes by Rolling Stone big wheel David Fricke and all sorts of pretty pictures, and you've got quite a package.\nThose are the logistics, but none of that would matter if the music was worthless. Luckily, the music is near perfect. The Soft Boys were an oddity in their own time. Lead singer and songwriter Robyn Hitchcock was an avowed fan of classic 1960s British rock like the Beatles and the Kinks, a stance none too fashionable during the punk heyday of 1976-1980. That's probably why Moonlight doesn't sound like anything that came out of England during that period.\nDon't be fooled by the title of the opening track: "I Wanna Destroy You" isn't latent punk aggression but an irresistible lyrical come-on riding a wave of guitar. Hitchcock won't settle for anything less than total obliteration, promising to leave you without a single atom left to call your own. On "Kingdom of Love," he describes how a girl has been laying eggs under my skin/Now they're hatching out under my chin. Vivid stuff. The album is equal parts Captain Beefheart, Syd Barrett and Beatles, and it's all top notch. \nThe Soft Boys broke up six months after the release of Underwater Moonlight, which was only their second LP. Hitchcock has attracted a sizable cult following during his 20-year solo career, but it's unlikely he'll be able to top the image of Underwater Moonlight's title track, which closes the album. A couple is so in love that the pair goes to the sea to drown together. Underwater moonlight/sets the body free, he sings, over a driving rhythm track. It's 20 years old, but Underwater Moonlight is the best record I've heard all year.
(03/08/01 5:13am)
Oh joy! Oh rapture! Oh ecstasy! The Blue Trees, the new mini-LP from Gorky's Zygotic Mynci, is spinning on the hi-fi, and at the end of the day, this is what it's all about: gorgeous tunes. Wait, back up, I'm getting ahead of myself.\nGorky's Zygotic Mynci is a Welsh band (Loosely translated, the name means "Dimwit Reproductive Monkey.") who is celebrating its 10th year together. That's right, the band's been around since the early 1990s releasing albums and singles consistently. This is the seventh LP, with an eighth due later this year. Not that we Americans would know that much about it, seeing as Stateside distribution of Gorky's material has been spotty at best. Beggars Banquet finally picked Gorky up over here in time for 1999's outstanding Spanish Dance Troupe, and now it's giving 2000's The Blue Trees a slightly belated release.\nThis is not a record that pushes the boundaries of pop. Rather, it's music that could have been made 30 years ago or 30 years from now. It's timeless. This brings to mind the best moments of Nick Drake, Belle & Sebastian, American folk music and last summer's all-in-Welsh record Mwng from fellow countrymen Super Furry Animals. Of the eight tracks, four are instrumental and four vocal, including a cover of a 1960s obscuro, The Honeybus' "Fresher Than the Sweetness in Water" and a Welsh song, "Sbia Ar Y Seren."\nGorky has never been as electrified as the Super Furries, but this release is even more mellow and pastoral than usual. The eclectic instrumentation of earlier releases like 1997's Barafundle (shockingly released in the United States on a major label but sadly now out of print) is gone. There's hardly any percussion on the album, which lets the acoustic guitars and Megan Childs' violin shine through. On the title track, which opens the album, you can hear fingers sliding down the guitar strings. The next track, "This Summer's Been Good from the Start," builds on the guitar and violin interplay with Gorky's trademark vocal harmonies. Six tracks and 20 minutes later, the album is over, and the listeners are left to pick their jaws up off the floor and press "play" again.\nSedate but not sleep-inducing, charming but not overly sweet, The Blue Trees is the soundtrack to every picnic or drive through the countryside you'll ever take. In a perfect world, this would sell 5 million copies, and you'd get sick of hearing it coming out of cars all summer. Too bad. Wales is sending us beauty. Spread the word.
(03/08/01 5:00am)
Oh joy! Oh rapture! Oh ecstasy! The Blue Trees, the new mini-LP from Gorky's Zygotic Mynci, is spinning on the hi-fi, and at the end of the day, this is what it's all about: gorgeous tunes. Wait, back up, I'm getting ahead of myself.\nGorky's Zygotic Mynci is a Welsh band (Loosely translated, the name means "Dimwit Reproductive Monkey.") who is celebrating its 10th year together. That's right, the band's been around since the early 1990s releasing albums and singles consistently. This is the seventh LP, with an eighth due later this year. Not that we Americans would know that much about it, seeing as Stateside distribution of Gorky's material has been spotty at best. Beggars Banquet finally picked Gorky up over here in time for 1999's outstanding Spanish Dance Troupe, and now it's giving 2000's The Blue Trees a slightly belated release.\nThis is not a record that pushes the boundaries of pop. Rather, it's music that could have been made 30 years ago or 30 years from now. It's timeless. This brings to mind the best moments of Nick Drake, Belle & Sebastian, American folk music and last summer's all-in-Welsh record Mwng from fellow countrymen Super Furry Animals. Of the eight tracks, four are instrumental and four vocal, including a cover of a 1960s obscuro, The Honeybus' "Fresher Than the Sweetness in Water" and a Welsh song, "Sbia Ar Y Seren."\nGorky has never been as electrified as the Super Furries, but this release is even more mellow and pastoral than usual. The eclectic instrumentation of earlier releases like 1997's Barafundle (shockingly released in the United States on a major label but sadly now out of print) is gone. There's hardly any percussion on the album, which lets the acoustic guitars and Megan Childs' violin shine through. On the title track, which opens the album, you can hear fingers sliding down the guitar strings. The next track, "This Summer's Been Good from the Start," builds on the guitar and violin interplay with Gorky's trademark vocal harmonies. Six tracks and 20 minutes later, the album is over, and the listeners are left to pick their jaws up off the floor and press "play" again.\nSedate but not sleep-inducing, charming but not overly sweet, The Blue Trees is the soundtrack to every picnic or drive through the countryside you'll ever take. In a perfect world, this would sell 5 million copies, and you'd get sick of hearing it coming out of cars all summer. Too bad. Wales is sending us beauty. Spread the word.
(03/01/01 5:53am)
Some of us WIUSers have spent the past several weeks plowing through thousands of pieces of vinyl from the '80s and '90s looking for stuff that might be of interest to today's modern disc jockey. Most of it is not of interest to anyone, except perhaps the thousands of faceless, long-haired rockers who actually recorded the stuff. I swear, if I see one more sticker advertising an exciting mix of the Bodeans and Soul Asylum, I'm going to weep. Openly.\nBut looking at all this stuff really gets you thinking about the longevity of the music we listen to today. Twenty years from now, probably only 10 percent of today's popular indie rock will be remembered by anyone but the most hard-core music geek. Pavement? Yeah, probably. Ultimate Fakebook? Well, I don't want to step on anyone's toes, but…\nWhich brings us to Bis. When the Scottish band first came to prominence in the mid-1990s, I can't imagine many people thought it would last that long. That whole self-consciously juvenile punk-pop thing sure was fun, but was it, you know, "important"? The band gets bonus points for doing its thing when either Blur or Oasis' brand of brit pop ruled the charts, but it was hardly genre-defining.\nBut five years on, it's a stranger world, and Bis claims to be making music for it. This EP, released in the United Kingdom last year on its long-time British label Wiija, marks the band's U.S. departure from Grand Royal (the Beastie Boys' label that is better at magazines than signing quality recording artists), and arrival at Lookout! Records, the label that gave our generation its very own Runaways, The Donnas. \nThis six-track EP continues the band's slow development in a dancier direction, from its last full-length, 1999's Social Dancing, to the forthcoming new album, due this summer. And you know what? The band's making a viable stab toward durability. This album is unmistakably Bis, but it's Bis doing an early-'80s new wave record with modern dance production. Catchy but not precious, well-produced but not overproduced, but most of all fun. The only disappointment is that "How Can We Be Strange?" is not, as I originally heard it, "How Can We Pee Straight?". Finally, I thought -- a song addressing the untold millions suffering from urinary direction anxiety. Alas, it's not to be. No matter; this disc will rock your world for 23 punk-disco minutes.
(03/01/01 5:00am)
Some of us WIUSers have spent the past several weeks plowing through thousands of pieces of vinyl from the '80s and '90s looking for stuff that might be of interest to today's modern disc jockey. Most of it is not of interest to anyone, except perhaps the thousands of faceless, long-haired rockers who actually recorded the stuff. I swear, if I see one more sticker advertising an exciting mix of the Bodeans and Soul Asylum, I'm going to weep. Openly.\nBut looking at all this stuff really gets you thinking about the longevity of the music we listen to today. Twenty years from now, probably only 10 percent of today's popular indie rock will be remembered by anyone but the most hard-core music geek. Pavement? Yeah, probably. Ultimate Fakebook? Well, I don't want to step on anyone's toes, but…\nWhich brings us to Bis. When the Scottish band first came to prominence in the mid-1990s, I can't imagine many people thought it would last that long. That whole self-consciously juvenile punk-pop thing sure was fun, but was it, you know, "important"? The band gets bonus points for doing its thing when either Blur or Oasis' brand of brit pop ruled the charts, but it was hardly genre-defining.\nBut five years on, it's a stranger world, and Bis claims to be making music for it. This EP, released in the United Kingdom last year on its long-time British label Wiija, marks the band's U.S. departure from Grand Royal (the Beastie Boys' label that is better at magazines than signing quality recording artists), and arrival at Lookout! Records, the label that gave our generation its very own Runaways, The Donnas. \nThis six-track EP continues the band's slow development in a dancier direction, from its last full-length, 1999's Social Dancing, to the forthcoming new album, due this summer. And you know what? The band's making a viable stab toward durability. This album is unmistakably Bis, but it's Bis doing an early-'80s new wave record with modern dance production. Catchy but not precious, well-produced but not overproduced, but most of all fun. The only disappointment is that "How Can We Be Strange?" is not, as I originally heard it, "How Can We Pee Straight?". Finally, I thought -- a song addressing the untold millions suffering from urinary direction anxiety. Alas, it's not to be. No matter; this disc will rock your world for 23 punk-disco minutes.
(02/23/01 6:31pm)
Noms: Traditional pop vocal album, Female pop vocal performance\nThe Californian by way of Canada spent the \'70s going from coffeehouse folkie (see her 1971 classic Blue) to respected jazz-folk type singer-songwriter (see her 1979 classic Mingus, a collaboration with the jazz legend). She then spent the \'80s and \'90s making excellent albums with diminishing commercial returns, fading into cult status. Last year she released Both Sides Now, a collection of old standards like \"Stormy Weather\" (and a few of her own nuggets), recorded with a full orchestra. It might have been an attempt to cash in on that whole Diana Krall thang, and it\'s certainly no substitute for a new album of her own songs, but the album still is criminally underrated and undersold.
(02/23/01 6:28pm)
Noms: Pop instrumental performance, instrumental arrangement accompanying a vocalist\nSince she's already won seventeen jillion awards for her performance in Dancer in the Dark, maybe The Icelandic One won't mind that she only scored two minor Grammy nominations for her work on the soundtrack album Selmasongs. She's up for best pop instrumental performance for the "Overture" from Dancer (an orchestral piece that's about as pop as Pavarotti). She also got a nod in the wordy category best instrumental arrangement accompanying a vocalist for "I've Seen It All," her railroad-riffic duet with Radiohead's Thom Yorke (sung with Peter "Fargo Wood Chipper" Stormare in the film). Unless you're attending the mythic "earlier untelevised ceremony" hosted by some B-list celebrity or another, don't expect to see these particular statuettes handed out. And if Bjork strikes out on Grammy night, there's always next month --"I've Seen It All" is also up for best song at the Academy Awards, where she'll perform with a 55-piece orchestra.
(02/23/01 5:43pm)
This is not an anti-Grammy column.\nNo, I could tell you that the Grammys suck. I could tell you terrible, terrible performers and recordings win the awards year after year. I could point out all sorts of things, like the soundtrack to "The Bodyguard" actually being voted album of the year. Or the first year there was a best heavy metal performance award, it went to Jethro Tull. I could equate nominating a Christina Aguilera song for an award with recognizing a toothpaste jingle as a significant artistic achievement.\nBut that's kind of pointless because you probably know that already, and if you don't, there's probably not a lot I can do to persuade you otherwise. Maybe 50 years from now, you'll wake up one morning and wonder why your children have stopped coming to visit and realize it could be because you have abhorrent taste. (Note: Questionable musical choices shouldn't actually preclude someone from knowing the warm glow of love. My dad bought the Jennifer Lopez CD, and he's still tops in my book.)\nThe best way I can think of to undo some of the damage hateful institutions like the Grammys have done over the years is to provide some counter-programming. Let's not talk about what sucks, let's talk about what's great. Actually, there are two great records up for album of the year this year: Beck's Midnite Vultures and Radiohead's Kid A. There are some other good acts nominated: Bjork, Joni Mitchell, Patti Smith, R.E.M. … we'll just call those the exceptions that prove the rule. Eiffel 65, an example of bad euro disco, got a nomination too, effectively negating any legitimacy the awards might aspire to.\nYou might ask yourself, what can I do instead of watching the Grammys? How can I expand my mind? Here's what I suggest. First, get a job. Yeah, that's right. You can have your roommate tape "Battlebots." March down to Long John Silver's, and join the workforce. I'm not even sure what night the Grammys are on, but make sure your new manager, Kenny, schedules you to work that night. During the three-hour Grammy telecast, you will be slinging hash, earning the federally mandated minimum wage of $5.15 an hour. $5.15/hour times three hours is $15.45, and after deductions and all that, you will have enough left in your savings account to go to the record store. (See how easy this is?) Okay, the final but crucial step is to buy one of these mega-excellent 2000 releases not recognized by the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences:\n1) Yo La Tengo's And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside-Out. Look back in mellow ecstacy with Ira Kaplan and Georgia Hubley's tales of indie rock's most artistically fruitful marriage.\n2) Primal Scream's XTRMNTR. Rock out to an album too intense for vowels. Groove to the squalls of white-noise guitar and the fat bottom end, courtesy of ex-Stone Rose Mani.\n3) The Fall's The Marshall Suite. For God's sake, if you're not yet acquainted with The Fall, do it now. They've released at least one album every year since 1978; where have you been? Mark E. Smith shouts a lot, and there's lots of catchy guitar riffs and one-finger keyboard lines. Buy it. Buy it buy it buy it buy it.\nAre we in agreement? I know this seems like a lot of trouble to go to just because the Grammys suck, but you'll thank me when you're older. Now get going. \nKenny needs you to close tonight.
(02/23/01 5:38pm)
Noms: Album of the year, alternative album\nThe man keeps putting out records, and the Grammy folks keep nominating them. After the acclaim of Odelay and Mutations comes the nonstop party that is Midnite Vultures, a record that introduced the pickup line "Step inside my Hyundai" to the pop lexicon. Vultures sees the natural culmination of the hyperactive-MC persona Beck gradually developed during the grueling 18-month Odelay tour. The Dust Brothers-produced "Hollywood Freaks" references Ice Cube, while "Broken Train" features a similar nod toward Axl Rose. Somehow, it all comes out in the wash, and after an hour of shaking his groove thang, Mr. Hansen gives us the ultimate come-down with the slow-jam classic "I Want to Get With You (And Your Sister Debra)." If there were even a hint of smirk, the music would quickly descend into sub-Barenaked Ladies garbage. But Beck doesn't blink, and we love him all the more. Midnite Vultures is up for both best alternative album and album of the year.
(02/22/01 5:44am)
The critical consensus has been that Tricky has gotten worse with every album since his popular debut, 1995's Maxinquaye. As is so often true, critical consensus is wrong. Tricky could have repeated the laid-back, trip-hop formula of that successful first record but instead chose to move farther out to the borders with the 1996 releases Pre-Millennium Tension and Nearly God, and his misunderstood classic, 1998's bold, disturbing Angels With Dirty Faces. \nThe critical and commercial reaction to the 1998 record was so universally negative, even Tricky seemed to notice. Its follow-up, 1999's Juxtapose, was a slight concession to commercial concerns, with its more traditional hip-hop feel. But by then the public had lost interest, and he was dropped from Island Records after the album failed.\nNow he's turned up with a new deal on Epitaph Records, the U.S. independent label best known for punk-pop like Rancid and the Offspring but which has expanded its roster in recent years with signings like Tom Waits. It's a shame that Tricky's return to the world of recorded music is this largely inconsequential four-song EP. \nIn one respect, Tricky seems to be trying to go back to the dark soundscapes of Angels, with the guitar loops and explosive live drums of the title track. But it feels a little stale; he was doing this three years ago and much better. Even worse, the chorus is actually the chorus from Peter Gabriel's "Big Time." I know somebody somewhere decided it was cool to steal from 1980's hits, but … well, it's not cool. \nThe fact that he's scraping the barrel with Peter Gabriel shows how played out this fad is. On "Crazy Claws" and "Tricky vs. Lynx," he brings back motormouthed rapper Mad Dog, whose incomprehensible stylings on Juxtapose were briefly entertaining, but they begin to grate here. \nThe fourth track will be familiar to long-time Tricky fans. "Divine Comedy" was actually recorded in 1998 after an executive at his then-label Island made some racist comments about blacks. An incensed Tricky immediately cut this track, which contains some very pointed language and was obviously never going to be released on Island. He snuck it out on a bootleg white-label 12-inch; now it's finally widely available. As far as the song goes, it's also something of a letdown, mainly because the backing track is the same as "Money Greedy" from Angels.\nTricky can rest assured that in 30 years, people will still be listening to his catalog while overrated trip-hoppers like Portishead will be largely forgotten. But with this release, he's in danger of becoming irrelevant. If you're a die-hard fan, you'll want to pick this up. But if you're a novice, you'd be better served by any of his earlier Island releases.
(02/22/01 5:34am)
Who thought up the retro thing? I'm not qualified to even make a guess, although I'm sure some cultural theorist has or will discourse on the subject at length. Regardless of if it predates the 1960s generation, I still choose to blame the Baby Boomers, who have subjected us to their appalling, sentimental nostalgia for years now. If I see one more montage of hippies frolicking in a field set to that Hot Tuna song about "goin' up the country," I'm going to burn my vinyl copy of Crosby, Stills & Nash and go work for a company that sprays CFCs into the atmosphere.\nWhat's my point? I've discovered two things in considering retro: It usually has no basis in the actual past, and, I'm ashamed to say, it can be halfway appealing when it rolls around to your generation. Take Architects of Character, the new CD from Arizona electronic duo Coin. This album is a hoot. Most of the music was supposedly written and recorded on an old Commodore 64, and it sounds like the greatest hits of the old 8-bit Nintendo, with vocals from the sister of OK Computer's "Fitter Happier" computer voice. This reminds me of those fateful days when I discovered that the endless complexity offered by the eight worlds of "Super Mario Bros. 3" was far more entertaining than any so-called "book." \nAs for this music's relationship to the original NES scores, well, again there's some revision of history here because "Castlevania" never sounded this good. The music is considerably augmented by what I suspect are live drums, or at least sampled live drums. And "Ikari Warriors" certainly never had a female robot singing along with the soundtrack (not even "Ikari Warriors III"). Never mind that she's singing either inanities (Girl, you know it's true/I'll spread my lovin' around) or geeky computer references (I'll take in the upload and cache all the images). The robo-vocalist's clipped tones lend a certain authoritative gravity to nonsense phrases like cartography of pleasure/cartography of pain.\nMy little brother got "Final Fantasy IX" for Christmas. The PlayStation game's score is a thoroughly respectable digital-orchestra composition, with dramatic swells at key moments, themes, motifs -- and no tunes! I can still hum the "Wood Man" stage from "Mega Man 2," and that's the sort of immortality that Coin is aiming for. God forgive me, I never thought I'd say it -- but sometimes I miss the old days.
(02/22/01 5:00am)
The critical consensus has been that Tricky has gotten worse with every album since his popular debut, 1995's Maxinquaye. As is so often true, critical consensus is wrong. Tricky could have repeated the laid-back, trip-hop formula of that successful first record but instead chose to move farther out to the borders with the 1996 releases Pre-Millennium Tension and Nearly God, and his misunderstood classic, 1998's bold, disturbing Angels With Dirty Faces. \nThe critical and commercial reaction to the 1998 record was so universally negative, even Tricky seemed to notice. Its follow-up, 1999's Juxtapose, was a slight concession to commercial concerns, with its more traditional hip-hop feel. But by then the public had lost interest, and he was dropped from Island Records after the album failed.\nNow he's turned up with a new deal on Epitaph Records, the U.S. independent label best known for punk-pop like Rancid and the Offspring but which has expanded its roster in recent years with signings like Tom Waits. It's a shame that Tricky's return to the world of recorded music is this largely inconsequential four-song EP. \nIn one respect, Tricky seems to be trying to go back to the dark soundscapes of Angels, with the guitar loops and explosive live drums of the title track. But it feels a little stale; he was doing this three years ago and much better. Even worse, the chorus is actually the chorus from Peter Gabriel's "Big Time." I know somebody somewhere decided it was cool to steal from 1980's hits, but … well, it's not cool. \nThe fact that he's scraping the barrel with Peter Gabriel shows how played out this fad is. On "Crazy Claws" and "Tricky vs. Lynx," he brings back motormouthed rapper Mad Dog, whose incomprehensible stylings on Juxtapose were briefly entertaining, but they begin to grate here. \nThe fourth track will be familiar to long-time Tricky fans. "Divine Comedy" was actually recorded in 1998 after an executive at his then-label Island made some racist comments about blacks. An incensed Tricky immediately cut this track, which contains some very pointed language and was obviously never going to be released on Island. He snuck it out on a bootleg white-label 12-inch; now it's finally widely available. As far as the song goes, it's also something of a letdown, mainly because the backing track is the same as "Money Greedy" from Angels.\nTricky can rest assured that in 30 years, people will still be listening to his catalog while overrated trip-hoppers like Portishead will be largely forgotten. But with this release, he's in danger of becoming irrelevant. If you're a die-hard fan, you'll want to pick this up. But if you're a novice, you'd be better served by any of his earlier Island releases.
(02/22/01 5:00am)
Who thought up the retro thing? I'm not qualified to even make a guess, although I'm sure some cultural theorist has or will discourse on the subject at length. Regardless of if it predates the 1960s generation, I still choose to blame the Baby Boomers, who have subjected us to their appalling, sentimental nostalgia for years now. If I see one more montage of hippies frolicking in a field set to that Hot Tuna song about "goin' up the country," I'm going to burn my vinyl copy of Crosby, Stills & Nash and go work for a company that sprays CFCs into the atmosphere.\nWhat's my point? I've discovered two things in considering retro: It usually has no basis in the actual past, and, I'm ashamed to say, it can be halfway appealing when it rolls around to your generation. Take Architects of Character, the new CD from Arizona electronic duo Coin. This album is a hoot. Most of the music was supposedly written and recorded on an old Commodore 64, and it sounds like the greatest hits of the old 8-bit Nintendo, with vocals from the sister of OK Computer's "Fitter Happier" computer voice. This reminds me of those fateful days when I discovered that the endless complexity offered by the eight worlds of "Super Mario Bros. 3" was far more entertaining than any so-called "book." \nAs for this music's relationship to the original NES scores, well, again there's some revision of history here because "Castlevania" never sounded this good. The music is considerably augmented by what I suspect are live drums, or at least sampled live drums. And "Ikari Warriors" certainly never had a female robot singing along with the soundtrack (not even "Ikari Warriors III"). Never mind that she's singing either inanities (Girl, you know it's true/I'll spread my lovin' around) or geeky computer references (I'll take in the upload and cache all the images). The robo-vocalist's clipped tones lend a certain authoritative gravity to nonsense phrases like cartography of pleasure/cartography of pain.\nMy little brother got "Final Fantasy IX" for Christmas. The PlayStation game's score is a thoroughly respectable digital-orchestra composition, with dramatic swells at key moments, themes, motifs -- and no tunes! I can still hum the "Wood Man" stage from "Mega Man 2," and that's the sort of immortality that Coin is aiming for. God forgive me, I never thought I'd say it -- but sometimes I miss the old days.
(02/22/01 5:00am)
Noms: Album of the year, alternative album\nThe man keeps putting out records, and the Grammy folks keep nominating them. After the acclaim of Odelay and Mutations comes the nonstop party that is Midnite Vultures, a record that introduced the pickup line "Step inside my Hyundai" to the pop lexicon. Vultures sees the natural culmination of the hyperactive-MC persona Beck gradually developed during the grueling 18-month Odelay tour. The Dust Brothers-produced "Hollywood Freaks" references Ice Cube, while "Broken Train" features a similar nod toward Axl Rose. Somehow, it all comes out in the wash, and after an hour of shaking his groove thang, Mr. Hansen gives us the ultimate come-down with the slow-jam classic "I Want to Get With You (And Your Sister Debra)." If there were even a hint of smirk, the music would quickly descend into sub-Barenaked Ladies garbage. But Beck doesn't blink, and we love him all the more. Midnite Vultures is up for both best alternative album and album of the year.
(02/22/01 5:00am)
This is not an anti-Grammy column.\nNo, I could tell you that the Grammys suck. I could tell you terrible, terrible performers and recordings win the awards year after year. I could point out all sorts of things, like the soundtrack to "The Bodyguard" actually being voted album of the year. Or the first year there was a best heavy metal performance award, it went to Jethro Tull. I could equate nominating a Christina Aguilera song for an award with recognizing a toothpaste jingle as a significant artistic achievement.\nBut that's kind of pointless because you probably know that already, and if you don't, there's probably not a lot I can do to persuade you otherwise. Maybe 50 years from now, you'll wake up one morning and wonder why your children have stopped coming to visit and realize it could be because you have abhorrent taste. (Note: Questionable musical choices shouldn't actually preclude someone from knowing the warm glow of love. My dad bought the Jennifer Lopez CD, and he's still tops in my book.)\nThe best way I can think of to undo some of the damage hateful institutions like the Grammys have done over the years is to provide some counter-programming. Let's not talk about what sucks, let's talk about what's great. Actually, there are two great records up for album of the year this year: Beck's Midnite Vultures and Radiohead's Kid A. There are some other good acts nominated: Bjork, Joni Mitchell, Patti Smith, R.E.M. … we'll just call those the exceptions that prove the rule. Eiffel 65, an example of bad euro disco, got a nomination too, effectively negating any legitimacy the awards might aspire to.\nYou might ask yourself, what can I do instead of watching the Grammys? How can I expand my mind? Here's what I suggest. First, get a job. Yeah, that's right. You can have your roommate tape "Battlebots." March down to Long John Silver's, and join the workforce. I'm not even sure what night the Grammys are on, but make sure your new manager, Kenny, schedules you to work that night. During the three-hour Grammy telecast, you will be slinging hash, earning the federally mandated minimum wage of $5.15 an hour. $5.15/hour times three hours is $15.45, and after deductions and all that, you will have enough left in your savings account to go to the record store. (See how easy this is?) Okay, the final but crucial step is to buy one of these mega-excellent 2000 releases not recognized by the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences:\n1) Yo La Tengo's And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside-Out. Look back in mellow ecstacy with Ira Kaplan and Georgia Hubley's tales of indie rock's most artistically fruitful marriage.\n2) Primal Scream's XTRMNTR. Rock out to an album too intense for vowels. Groove to the squalls of white-noise guitar and the fat bottom end, courtesy of ex-Stone Rose Mani.\n3) The Fall's The Marshall Suite. For God's sake, if you're not yet acquainted with The Fall, do it now. They've released at least one album every year since 1978; where have you been? Mark E. Smith shouts a lot, and there's lots of catchy guitar riffs and one-finger keyboard lines. Buy it. Buy it buy it buy it buy it.\nAre we in agreement? I know this seems like a lot of trouble to go to just because the Grammys suck, but you'll thank me when you're older. Now get going. \nKenny needs you to close tonight.
(02/22/01 5:00am)
Noms: Pop instrumental performance, instrumental arrangement accompanying a vocalist\nSince she's already won seventeen jillion awards for her performance in Dancer in the Dark, maybe The Icelandic One won't mind that she only scored two minor Grammy nominations for her work on the soundtrack album Selmasongs. She's up for best pop instrumental performance for the "Overture" from Dancer (an orchestral piece that's about as pop as Pavarotti). She also got a nod in the wordy category best instrumental arrangement accompanying a vocalist for "I've Seen It All," her railroad-riffic duet with Radiohead's Thom Yorke (sung with Peter "Fargo Wood Chipper" Stormare in the film). Unless you're attending the mythic "earlier untelevised ceremony" hosted by some B-list celebrity or another, don't expect to see these particular statuettes handed out. And if Bjork strikes out on Grammy night, there's always next month --"I've Seen It All" is also up for best song at the Academy Awards, where she'll perform with a 55-piece orchestra.
