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(06/05/03 4:00am)
Wire's latest is not so recent, a put-together of two EPs and a few other songs -- real fans be prepared to be ripped-off. Even so, the pulsating of this distortion is captivating. \nWith the fearfulness of listening (like the kind you get from Joy Division), you'll feel like you dug up some record you weren't supposed to hear. These dark, gray, fuzzed guitars will give you a scene of forceful tenderness when paired with sweetly gritty vocals. Other times the British punks come off as an odd time-lapse with some new wave shit, but better. The electronically-hinged 11 tracks are thick enough to take a chunk out of and leave some balance remaining. Then there's the especially punkified snare-driven rant thrown into the middle, with hopefully sparse drum work. Over that vocals croaking "And the chorus goes, and chorus goes, bu bu bu bu bu bang," followed by some zippy distortion. It's nice what these guys can do with an on-again, off-again career since the '70s supporting them. The album gets a bit annoying with the Rush-type slightly orchestral vocals backing one of the middle tracks, but it's not that noticeable. This barrage of distortion starts off good and remains throughout.
(05/29/03 4:00am)
Daniel Lanois' solo efforts may be overshadowed by his production work with Bob Dylan, Peter Gabriel, U2, Emmylou Harris and other famous rockstars, but his sound can hold its own. Shine is the Canadian's fourth solo trial on a fourth label in 14 years. His sound is watery, wavy and skyshown, his lyrics simple -- capturing his feelings without trying to dress them up. While it's easy to grasp the concreteness of his metaphors and descriptions, if I hear one more artist sing about his "angel" woman, deserts and waterfalls in a love song I might just vomit with boredom. Lanois centers on tenderness and love, and his songs sound like the musical personification of such. The tempos are as mild as his airy vocals, pairing to give you a pasteled, impressionistic painting of his convictions, but without enough drive or force to make him believable. I kind of get the feeling he's a rich bastard, singing of meeting his subjects in San Juan or whatever exotic locale fits the mood. He brings in Harris, Bono and samples a little Charley Patton, and their additions help to flesh out the sound. A plus is his adoption of some more unorthodox sounds, looping ambient noises and spacey synths and occasional drum machine backbeats, matched with more typical guitar and piano melodies.
(05/29/03 4:00am)
With a heading of neo-psychedelia on All Music Guide and honey dripping from their organ and auxiliary percussion-fused sound, Paul Butler and Aaron Fletcher of A Band of Bees are here with a depth of pleasantries. With substance disguised by jazz-fusion influenced sounds, Sunshine Hit Me is an LP of sonically-removed intimacy. \nThe band's first full-length, with tracks from its 2001 EP Punchbag, will take you to a flowered field with little animal dens littering the undergrowth. The lyrics, "You smell like a punchbag, I'm too much for a cage of monkeys" bear images instead of explicit storylines. The sound, with tinges of reggae and happy-rock, give you a feeling instead of a plot. Spewn with major chords and bouncy punches, it's a formula that makes for quite a bit of sunshine with a few clouds following along to let you know the world isn't intrinsically happy, but what you make of it and beautiful all the same. \nPutting the apex at track six is a spectacular cover of obscure '60s Brazilian band Os Mutantes' "Minha Menina." I can't translate, but it's a song about fantastic love and infatuation and that girl that holds your heart so dearly she can only be described by roses, silver moons and crescendoed choruses, and two unrestrained "dop-ba-doo-wops"
(05/22/03 4:00am)
Dan, Karen O, Brian Chase and Nick Zinner are so spunky. They're good enough to become the new rumored darlings on the critics list, chasing the strings and stocks of the White Stripes and such, while bad enough to earn the glamour of Tipper's Parental Advisory. This is the band you've been hearing about. And as one famed local record store owner says, "the album's almost good enough to live up to all the hype." \nIt's in the guitars. With a three-piece ditching all bass-lined dreams (yeah, they're in that trend too) Zinner fills out the sound almost completely solo. Sure, Karen O's screaming sexy in the foreground, and Chase can pound his snare beat securely into your head, but Zinner pulls so many noises out of his electric you'd think there's a bass player AND a keyboardist in the band (he also helped out with production). \nHailing from New York's underground/punk scene, the trio brings the pumped-up blues of the Stripes into some outer territory, which I bet makes Jack and Meg jealous. But not that much. For no matter how cool the sound is, there's something (perhaps the more annoying of O's yelps) that hits the back of your ears saying, "It's good but not lasting."\nKaren O's probably making most of the guys drool, but she's not got much to say. "Boy you're just a stupid bitch and girl you're just a no good dick" ("Black Tongue") is humorous, but who cares. You wouldn't put on a Yeah Yeah Yeahs' album for enlightenment anyway, but a bit more substance would be all the band would need to push it above the crowded gaggle of bands they can be grouped with nowadays. But everyone needs to let go sometimes and it's still great when O sings along with the guitar. \nZinner is the starsucker of the band. He clunks, plunks, zings, twinkles, meedly-mees and punches with the best of his kind. Apparently, he loops live to cover all the layers he has on the record. He knows the loudness of simplicity though too, with some unlayered intros and endings reminding you that hey, Zinner is cool with volume 10 and multi-tracking, but he knows control. Being able to demonstrate both makes the man into a player instead of an ego-strummer. Karen O struts her softer side as well in a few tracks, giving way to the illusion that she must only be a screamer. She can sing too. Even Chase tones it down with bells for the ending.\nThe Yeah Yeah Yeahs have enough destruction to be pleasantly distracting and enough different guitar tones to make even the most cynical woman-in-rock critics flush with a bit of happiness.
(05/22/03 4:00am)
Vocalist and guitarist VV can spin you from raspy Chrissie Hynde-sexy to the sweetness of self-endearment in six steps. Alison Mosshart (VV's real name) knows how to spill over with just a bit of self-destruction to make punk rock interesting, while avoiding the chick-rock stereotypes and your dreams of black leather and silk stockings. \n Hotel's (Jamie Hince, a dude) additional vocals and percussive precision pairs quite nicely with VV's stylings. Together they propel The Kills pretty close to whatever references you could make to other two-person bands out there. Keep on Your Mean Side, the duo's first full-length release, reeks of the same sort of unburdening depth and agony today's rock stars should steal from bands like them and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. There's enough crunch in the guitar and punch in the kick drum to make you forget there's only two people playing. Who the hell needs a bass player anyway? VV and Hotel aren't just one-trick rockponies, though. On some tracks, VV's and Hotel's vocals race each other toward desperation. Then on another, they pair up in a quiet, strong, resignation. It's not a point to prove but a means of getting there that the album conveys. On "Monkey 23," VV and Hotel wrap-up the punkness of it all with a sweet little wood block-backed acoustic ditty about a lady knowing her man and knowing that he's not what she wants followed by a bashful giggle at the end. Perfect.
(04/17/03 4:00am)
The Black Keys are your ticket to revisit the dark blues of the smokiest empty backroom bar. Come in off the lonely streets to dust your black boots from the barstool and hear what it sounds like to reap the squalor of history and drive it through distortion and plunked percussion. With 11 tracks of simple blues-rock riffs, The Black Keys are giving the 20-somethings of the world a taste of yearning, sex and soul with their roots hanging out. At the end of it, songs about love and loss are always better than politics and causes. Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney work this formula to their advantage, creating a fresh sound without breaking boundaries. Auerbach's gritty vocals and grittier guitar blends perfectly with Carney's fittingly average drumming, creating songs that just say their piece without the complications of too much texture. The sound is real, with enough heart that you'll forget you've already heard the blues before. It'll leave you wanting your baby back too. When the songs are about loss, they clunk with pain, when they're about good love they soar. thickfreakness's no frills production leaves emptiness to echo even after the last measure.
(04/10/03 4:00am)
If you're a punk fan and The Clash didn't change the way you hear music, hang your mohawk in shame. When there was nothing in the States, the band tore out of Britain with an infusion of substance or fury on the airwaves, taking a three-chord spitfire genre and making it complex, even more meaningful and incendiary. The Clash is to white revolutionaries and the world what Public Enemy is to the black population. But Joe Strummer, Topper Headon, Paul Simonon and Mick Jones didn't push for separation. Playing an anti-racism concert and screaming for someone to care about something, the band did more for race relations in one reggae-infused song than our current president will do with four years in office. In a genre of bass players picked out of a crowd that hung more on safety pins than structure, The Clash made it impossible to scoff unilaterally at punk ever again. Epic Records has taken the best of punk's best and put it into 40 tracks -- with the Brit boys themselves choosing songs from all of their albums, even both versions of their debut, The Clash. This is the best of The Clash's controlled mayhem.
(03/27/03 5:00am)
The Party of Helicopters is begging you to believe in nothing. A string of empty phrases backed by pretty noise, these male debutantes who fancy themselves punk purists only float their vocals on high-pitched waves that barely keep the moderately-tempoed distortion rock moving. I'm sure the Partiers are trying to move beyond the cuteness of adolescent party songs about mustaches and passing out on floors, but I also fear they all have those shaggy emo haircuts. When you can attach a haircut and beat up too-dark jean jacket to a sound, all hope is hopeless. This isn't even depressing in the it's-too-mediocre-I-have-higher-expectations-way -- it's just there, taking up space, for no reason. Then the Partiers string all the lyrics together in some crackpot stylish way through tiny fonts with a cover art of minimalist design and you'll just want to drop these kids off a dock somewhere in exasperation. If it were a crime to produce something that means nothing, let the Partiers rot in Rikers. Beyond that, there's nothing about this album to even get worked up about enough to really lay into them. Good luck with the groupies, boys.
(03/13/03 5:00am)
The Coral is sun-drenched, scorching heat -- the kind that makes the sand waver in bad mock-western movies, the kind that sweats. Not dusty, or arid, but barren with the illusion of something just off to the right in the distance. It's brown leather boots and blue jeans and the city guy lost in the desert with a set jaw and strong brow, dark hair, pretending to be a cowboy. \nAnd that's just the guitar tone.\nThe Coral's bevy of young rock-driven malcontents has gone West, bringing xylophones, pieced-together layers with no feather on the blending, eerie whistles, hollers and a disco beat. The music is composed well enough to witness the whole and it's parts in one listening without crumbling. It reeks of spirit and style -- be it uncouth worn down teenage wear -- and shows how rock and roll's not so bad after all.\nThese Brit boys range in age from 18 to 20 and their creative process shows the age. Not in a fresh to the scene noticeable way, but in the method of teenagers who sleep less and play more. The music has an energy that will speed listeners to 80 mph, and have them running past roadblocks and avoiding the destination. This debut album was released last July in the UK, reaching official distribution in the States just last week. \nAt it's best, James Skelly's raspy vocals make a proclamation on their own. Back it with the plodding bassline of Paul Duffy's baritone sax and listeners will understand why this band is good. When any other band would make a lovelorn, basic rocker with bassline, drums and distortion, The Coral puts out the same idea with an organ intro and doo-wop backup vocals. \nIt's the piecemeal arrangement of an artist's collage with the rare trait of actually looking good. There's three-part vocal arrangements with the tone of old men singing sea chanteys, backed by one echoing harmonica note and the same desert-guitar and percussion that really moves. What makes it work is texturizing the single parts by throwing a bunch of them together. It's part sci-fi movie, part bad poetry, part wild west, part old man wisdom, part pop. The band covers themes of longing and need, and spins stories of the disenchanted and fallen spirits into imagery every other song or two. \nWhile The Coral's music pulls in so many directions, all meeting on the outskirts and thrust listeners back towards the center. Hymn-like three part vocals are backed against a distortion driven chorus. The Coral spins toward ethereal then rides back on punched snare beats and energetic rhythms. Melodies are fleshed out with horns, organ and auxiliary percussion. \nThe mixture is progressive -- whenever it seems the music is heading one way, 30 seconds later the musicians in The Coral spin off at a 45 degree angle. Then they'll revisit the main theme, leave it again and head for something else completely different. The Coral's uniqueness isn't only based in layering different sounds but also not knowing what comes next. \n"Time Travel," hidden on the end, is sincerity mixed with reggae beats, a Bob Marley dub cover, vibraphone and this spectacular muted, echoing trumpet. "If you had to prove to Jesus Christ is no more of a man than you or I, would you tell the people would you try to deceive, for fear of undermining their religious belief," Skelly sings. It eschews anything socially correct while telling people to believe in something real. In five minutes, it wraps up why The Coral will not be satisfied with making music that sounds normal and no one should ever want to hear it if they did.
(03/06/03 5:00am)
Edwin McCain has set out to recreate the feel-good nature of a string of "Wonder Years" reruns -- except void of any wit, creativity or feeling. He's collected the husks of American themes, sucked free of any life, dumbed down and served from a stage. \nLuckily for listeners who need their music cradled in pink plastic saran wrap, McCain isn't confusing with changes in tempo or structure, nor is he shocking with more than three lines that are not some variation of a cliche. He even provides just enough mildly interesting saxophone (via Craig Shields) to make listeners feel like they're listening to something a little more cultural than normal, adult contemporary. \nMcCain is also fond of songs he sees as narratives, the tunes that convey some sort of basic life story about an easily recognizable stereotype -- here involving old people, winos and interracial partners. He tries to bring issues to light but gets lost in singing pretty and trite concepts that have been said better before. The worst thing is that even the songs McCain didn't write are like this too, proving that he is not just a mediocre musician, but he has awful taste.
(02/27/03 5:00am)
Having a mullet doesn't make you square. Maybe a redneck, but the guys at Legacy Records are out to prove that mulletheads know the value of guitar heroes and arena rock.\nFor a two-disc compilation based on a bad hairstyle, Mullets Rock! is a surpsingly fun listen. The rock/ power-pop favorites, including Cheap Trick, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Foghat and The Allman Brothers Band. Ram Jam's testament to blow is included also with the wicked strut of "Black Betty."\nThe flow of Mullets Rock! is decent, with hard-hitters for the first five or so tracks of each disc. Both discs taper at points, but overall you'll not have to wait more than two tracks for something better. There's enough gritty growls and electric guitar to keep rock and rollers decently happy. \nThere are a few major faults, like choosing Stevie Ray Vaughan's cover of Hendrix's "Voodoo Child" instead of Hendrix's better version or a Vaughan original. The tracks are mostly radio favorites, rather than songs pulled from the vaults. For what it is, it's a compilation to turn louder as you roll down the windows and drive. Sometimes the simplest ideas work better than the most complex. So get ready to cut those sideburns, baby.
(02/20/03 5:00am)
Morning breaks over Bleu's Creek. There sits dejected Bleu on the deck, gazing at the sunrise. Last night his girlfriend dumped him. Read the lines of depression and frustration in his face. Then from nature's quiet, an acoustic guitar crescendos. In comes a melodic, slightly lost voice, singing words that rhyme. Welcome to Bleu's Redhead. With just enough distortion so as not to scare all the little girls away, Bleu has penned ballads that are more prone to the "Real World"/"Road Rules" episodes (four tracks have been used for those shows already) than to playing on anyone's CD player. Hearing about how much Bleu misses his ex, wants her back, loves her or how she doesn't understand gets old quick. With basic song structures and boringly sappy lyrics, Redhead will leave listeners dosing without enough energy to run to the store to pick up some tissues. The only thing that makes this album remotely amusing is his occasional out of place lyrics/ chords in an album that's trying to fit in to the well-crafted pop world. But Bleu says it best himself in "Trust Me," he's not afraid of playing overdone love songs. Maybe he was just trying to make a concept album for post-breakup, melodically mediocre depression.
(01/30/03 5:00am)
Make Up the Breakdown is about as unmemorable as a catchy pop-rock album can be. Sort of like the first cigarette after you've quit smoking: refreshing at first, but after it's over you're still poisoning yourself. While Hot Hot Heat is making a bit of a break from the mainstream slag that's big right now, the move follows the White Stripes, Hives, return of guitar rock, etc. It's great for now, but forgettable in about a year. That said, Breakdown is a good listen in passing. Heat (hailing from Vancover) seems well-versed on how to create catchy pop tunes. These 10 tracks have hooks with sticking power, driven by a consistent medium/fast tempo, Steve Bays' slightly quirky vocals and just enough keyboards to seem alternative. \nThe lyrics, though without weight, are sometimes clever, and the band even includes a verse about a polyester suit in "Get in or Get Out." "Bandages" also includes the best use of harmonics that I've heard in a while, with a nice time change in the middle of the song. Breakdown is good for putting on the stereo and dancing around to momentarily, but it's not pushing any boundaries.
(01/23/03 5:00am)
In a time when radio airplay sucks more than usual, the "new rock" of the past year is just recycled Kinks-style material and emo bands start to think they aren't even emo, Bloomington's local musicians are doing their best to put something fresh into our rock and roll ears. Some succeed, some fail, but at least they try. \nAndy Hollinden's new album, Begging's Not Endearing, is an exercise in striving for something new. He has taken the idea of combining different sounds to a more technical level, stripping his songs down beyond genres in using loops and an array of instrumentation to convey singular thoughts. In 11 instrumental tracks, Hollinden's take on weird combinations, like a hip-hop backbeat with a tinny banjo in "Aunt Bea," is a survey of hits and misses. \nThe loops, which give Begging its depth, were mostly compiled in a program called Acid, which lets users select the sound, define the number of needed measures, adjust the tempo and tone and finally drop it all into the mix. Holliden chose from thousands of samples to pick out the best phat bassline ("Two Hogs Fightin' in a Feed Sack") or oddball-world vocals (the choir in "Ohio River Bleach Bottle"). Then the loops were combined with live instrumentation and keyboards/samples in ProTools. The rest was two years of fine tuning. The computer programs allowed Hollinden to play, record, mix and produce everything himself. The only other person involved was Mark Hood, who mastered the final product.\nThis independence allowed Hollinden to put together many different sounds. "Onion Puddin'," is a take on soul with horn loops and a clear jazz tone on the guitar. "Lily" is an example of the good-and-bad. While it is formed around a beautiful single bar piano melody inspired by Hollinden's daughter, the harpsichord towards the end makes the remainder of the song seem displaced and somewhat mechanical. "Two Hogs Fightin' in a Feed Sack" runs with a funky beat and some cool slide. "Ectomorph's Revenge" is a tense bit of energy and sci-fi sounds.\nBegging's strengths are in its layers. On the first pass, the songs sound like some instrumental tracks with a few weird choices thrown in. After listening to the album a few times, there comes a realization that there's a lot to listen to that keeps it interesting. Many of the basic chords and ideas come from way back when Hollinden was in high school.\nWhile the songs on their own are interesting, it seems an exercise in fun using a setlist to communicate ideas, which detracts from the focus of the album. The only emotion most of the tracks convey is fun, which is fine if that's your thing, but it doesn't boost the album's weight. While "Music for Kissing," "Don't Speak to the Sleepwalker" and "Lily" seem to inspire something deeper, the songs aren't going to make listeners want to jump off a ledge, cry, fall in love or save the world like truly good songs do. \nBegging isn't for everyone. It is more interesting than it is something to keep in a regular rotation. Those ready to listen, fans of local music or even those who just want to check out something different, pick it up. To appreciate the album it takes more than one listen. It might not change the world, but it's a decent investment nonetheless.
(01/16/03 5:00am)
Today's female flame of the blues, Susan Tedeschi, has laid down 11 solid tracks with her newest album, Wait For Me. While Wait's heavier production masks some of the rawness that made Just Won't Burn so cool, this is still an album worth having. Tedeschi starts the album off with a thematic reference to "It Hurt So Bad" with "Alone," another great song about leaving a relationship and regretting it. Other standout tracks include "Wrapped in the Arms of Another," "In the Garden" and "'Til I Found You." Another one to check out is her cover of Bob Dylan's "Don't Think Twice It's All Right". Wait also features the guitar work of Tedeschi's husband, Derek Trucks (the nephew of Allman Brother Butch) on "Gonna Move" and "The Feeling the Music Brings," two mid-tempo ditties about growing up and discovering music. Trucks' guitar definitely adds more rock to the feel-good tracks he's featured on. Tedeschi seems to trade the uncompromised feeling of her past albums for composure and balance. While Wait shows growth, it'll leave you missing the screams of Just Won't Burn. But since Tedeschi is one of the most rocking females out there today, check out this album.
(12/12/02 5:00am)
When Zach de la Rocha left Rage Against the Machine, I was depressed. The band singlehandedly saved me in high school, gave me hope that there was something beyond alt-rock and that someone cared about what was going on in the world. Tom Morello blew me away (still does) with his crazy technique. Together, De la Rocha, Morello, Brad Wilk and Tim Commerford were tight and inspired me to keep at least getting on with life and high school when I hated it. Then I got to college and Zach left the band.\nSo you can imagine my hesitation when I heard Chris Cornell was to front the new Rage. Nothing against Soundgarden or anything, but grunge rock is just not "Take the Power Back" or "Killing in the Name Of" or Battle of Los Angeles.\nEnter Audioslave -- a mixture of Rage's passionate crunching and Cornell's grunge melodicism (and non-political lyrics). Believe it or not, the self-titled debut sounds exactly like you would think it would. The first riff of "Cochise" screams Rage, until Cornell enters in with a vocal melody (something highly unnatural if you're expecting De la Rocha's rants). Surprisingly, it doesn't sound that bad, and there is enough Morello/Wilk/Tim C. action on the album to keep a Rage fan reasonably satisfied (check out Morello's solo on "The Last Remaining Light").\nI'm not going to talk about the lyrics or Cornell, because I really don't care that much. All I can say about his participation is he didn't piss me off (neither did Rick Rubin). \nAll in all, this album is a little better than OK. For the Rage fan, it's not Rage and never will be, but there is enough crunching to keep you somewhat amused. As Morello said in an interview in Guitar World (check it out), Audioslave isn't just the revamping of Rage with Cornell; it is a completely separate band. \nAudioslave isn't revolutionary, but at least it's real rock, something that the mainstream audience needs right now. Maybe it's time for the guys of Rage to fight this new battle -- making decently good music accessible to a mainstream audience.
(11/21/02 5:00am)
Here are some suggested tunes to get you through those pivotal moments in life when you just don't know what to pump through your headphones.\n1. Song to wake up on a Wednesday by: "Pump it Up" by Elvis Costello on This Year's Model.\nAn obvious choice for a morning tune, sure, but not just any morning. The morning that is so boring that it was stuck in the middle of the week -- you have two tests tomorrow, and you're dying for the weekend. Costello can give you hope by encouraging you to do the most simple and definitive action any avid music listener can take: Pump It UP. All the while maintaining his sarcastic wit and sly diatribes on life. Then continue to listen to the rest of This Year's Model -- "No Action" is perfect for a Thursday and the confounded fury those tests will leave you with fits right alongside the anti-corporate message of "Radio, Radio."\n2. Song to regret by: "It Hurt So Bad" by Susan Tedeschi on Just Won't Burn.\nYou can't get better than the blues for a song about regret. Tedeschi is a rocking female, one of way too few, and here her vocals will tear through your speakers. She hits passion, vulnerability and longing right on key with enough strength and funk remaining to leave you appreciative. While you're at it, I hear she has a new album out. \n3. Song to proposition (politely) by: "Valentine" by The Replacements on Pleased to Meet Me.\n"If you were a pill / I'd take a handful at my will / and knock you back with something sweet and strong," Paul Westerberg sings on "Valentine." You can't get more eloquent than that. So you get points from your dream dude/chick for being sweet while having a great taste in tunes. While you're at it, check out anything by The Mats, especially "I Will Dare" off of Let it Be.\n4. Songs to be depressed by: Anything by Joy Division.\nIan Curtis was one bad, tormented dude. His vocals tremor and explode in front of a sweet backing band (the musicians behind him went on to form New Order). He makes you believe what he says, even if he handles some of the most disheartening ideals with his lyrics. To hit bottom, try "Love Will Tear Us Apart." The single was released in 1980 but Curtis hung himself before the group had a chance to put it on an album -- you can find the track on multiple discs. \n5. Song to get romantic by: "Lenny" by Stevie Ray Vaughan on Texas Flood.\nVaughan wrote this instrumental while sitting on the bed of his ex-wife (then current wife). It flows with soul and has the added bonus of Vaughan's no-need-to-explain massive skills. It's a classic:pick it up and play it for someone, and you'll for sure make him or her cry, or at least look at you differently. A definite runner-up is "1952 Vincent Black Lightning" by Richard Thompson -- this song is indescribable. \nThis isn't the most complete or accurate list, but it's a start. If your searching for more artists (beyond these obvious few) to send you spinning try Jeff Buckley, Todd Snider or Westerberg's solo stuff. \n6. Song to strut by: "Black Betty" covered by Ram Jam on Ram Jam.\nThis update of an old Huddie Ledbetter blues tune is just as badass as that scene in "Blow" where Johnny Depp struts down the screen in a pimping white suit. The guitar riff is more than catchy and the high hat pounds with a purpose. \n7. Song to love soccer by: "Eat my Goal" by Collapsed Lung.\nBet you never thought someone would write a song about soccer, especially with a techno/hip hop flavor. And yes, the guys in the group are British. You may have to download this tune unless you want to go import.
(09/26/02 4:00am)
You may have heard about Janis Ian from your parents. She put out her first chart-topping single, "Society's Child" in 1966 when she was 15. Since then, Ian has released 17 albums. But forget what you have heard about Ian or any qualms you may have about listening to music from your parent's decade. Ian's 2000 release, God & the FBI, needs no previous qualifiers for new listeners. \nOverall, the album is filled with extreme hits and bare misses. When she's good, she's great, but where her songs falter, they do it throughout the entire track. \nThe heart-catcher on the album is "Memphis," penned by Ian and Deana Carter with vocals by Ian and Willie Nelson. Ian could have pulled off this track beautifully without guest help, but Nelson and Carter add extra flavor that showcases a tune that should rise above one artist's goals. It's the tearful ballad of Memphis, her beauty and her heartache. Chances are it will make you catch your breath and want to take a brief road trip to Tennessee on a rainy day to check it out. The song is that good. \nThe tune also detours from many of the other tracks on an album full of layers and texture. It is a simple acoustic guitar and piano ballad among songs with multiple vocal and percussive overlays. But when fitting, the textures on other songs are just as valuable as "Memphis's" simplicity. Take "Jolene" -- layered vocals create the percussive feel of the tune about a girl who is "walking to the beat of the street," giving the song a busy-street type feel. \nDetractors on the album come when Ian overdoes the layers, diverting what should be a listener's channeled attention to many different directions. (This overdone tactic only works once, on "Murdering Stravinsky," where the song has a confusing-in-a-good-way feel). \nOther interesting tracks that deserve mention include "Play Like a Girl," where Ian gives deserved credit to herself as a "girl" rocker, and "Boots Like Emmy Lou's." It starts out with a player-piano intro and swings right into a country/blues infected rocker that pays tribute to Lou and other classic country greats with humor and fun. If you have any appreciation for a musician's influences, don't miss this track. \nGod & the FBI has more hits than misses. Ian is a very talented songwriter who delves into interesting subject matter that makes her music unique. Check her out.
(09/05/02 4:00am)
Country music has been reduced to mockery. With modern country infused with the pop-driven sounds of Faith Hill and, well, everyone else, instead of the Cash and Haggard-type soulful strumming, the best you'll hear on country airwaves is usually some untalented, lovesick ballad with a token steel-guitar riff. But you won't get that from the Dixie Chicks.\nWith the band's latest release, Home, the trio of fiddle-playing, banjo-picking and mandolin-strumming women continues to put down-home country and bluegrass-feeling back into modern country music. \nThe lyrics from Home's first single sum up the plague of blandness sucking the life out of today's country music: "We listen to the radio to hear what's cookin' / But the music ain't got no soul." No kidding -- and points to the Chicks for trying to put some soul back onto the airwaves. \nWhile many of these tracks are lovesick ballads, the lyrics are more intelligent than your average "I screwed up and my love left me" subject matter floating around. In particular, the title track and a cover of Patty Griffin's "Top of the World" take this theme, explore it with candor and grace, and back it up with solid bluegrass sounds. \nThe Chicks use a formula that mixes slightly sarcastic, upbeat country boppers with fluid, heartspoken ballads, a pattern they tested on 1998's Wide Open Spaces and 1999's Fly. Disappointingly enough, there are more slow tunes on the album than upbeat ones, not making for as happy a collection as past releases. The Chicks are either growing up or getting older.\nHighlight tracks are "White Trash Wedding" (with the lyric, "It took a nip of gin / But you finally took my hand"), the fast-picking instrumental "Lil' Jack Slade" and the single "Long Time Gone." The Chicks even cover Stevie Nicks' "Landslide" successfully enough, giving it a down-from-the-mountain musical spin. \nOverall, you can tell this is a Chicks album. No great improvements, but no giant detractors either. If you're a fan, pick it up. If you're not, try getting Fly first.
(08/29/02 4:00am)
I'm sitting here listening to the best of Robert Palmer. I realize how this may be wrong on many levels. One -- as the Weekend editor in chief, maybe I should pretend to have a good taste in music and not love '80s pop. Two -- It's only 9 a.m., and on a Monday, I should be sleeping in and reveling in my personal weekend adventures as a representative of the publication all about the esteemed event. But really, who cares?\nThat's what I'd like to think Weekend is all about. Not reviews and stories about music the indie mag or radio station tells you to like, not articles telling you that a concert or entertainment event is cooler than others because it costs more, or that you suck if you still like watching "Newsies." Weekend is about what we like and find interesting, and hopefully what you like and find interesting, with no exceptions. Even if our tastes are embarassing. \nWith that in mind, our goal is to be accessible to you. We're constantly coming up with ways to improve The Scene, our weekly entertainment guide. Here's two pages where you can come every Thursday and find something to do -- from movies to concerts to all ages events. And some of them are free. \nOur reviews section is keeping you in mind as the consumer -- we'll let you know what we think about the latest albums, DVDs, video games and movies to help you decide whether you want to waste your money. Feature articles will take a more in-depth look at what's going on in the local entertainment scene, with spicy writing and wicked photos. \nThis semester we will also feature three regular columnists for a bit of variety. Alec Toombs will write about film, Tom Whalen about music and Mike Tapscott on how art and entertainment influence life. \nThe highlight of the semester will be the Best of Bloomington issue in November. Here's a chance for you to tell us what you think of local food, music and more and see what your friends think in print. It should be interesting. \nTaking the leadership roles this semester are Tim Street as managing editor, Jason Gaddis as features editor, Mike D'Avria as reviews editor, Ryan Whirty as copy editor, Bartram Nason as photo editor, Brant Fechter as the go-to-guy for The Scene and myself as EIC. With that, we have a slew of folks obsessed with entertainment and hanging out on the weekend. Just the kind of crew you would want writing about it and photographing it.\nThe point is, we are here for you. So call us (855-0760). E-mail us (weekend@idsnews.com). Let us know what you think. We already know you will tell us if you absolutely hate the job we're doing -- but be more specific. Tell us how you think we can improve, don't just bash the last review you read. Here's a chance for you to help. \nSo maybe we can't all be dedicated super-cool indie rockers, and maybe we don't all know every detail about the latest Steven Soderbergh film. (We could all be closet Robert Palmer fans). But there's a chance that come Thursday (or Wednesday if you're so inclined), everyone's ready for a good weekend. So come to us for the information that will make your planning easier. And hey, if you really hate the magazine, I hear it makes good kindling.
