PULP - HIS 'N' HERS - 8.5/10
His 'n' Hers is probably the definition of a transitional album. Nobody remembers the Pulp of Freaks and Separations because the Pulp of Different Class and This is Hardcore were so genre and epoch defining, but on His 'N' Hers, the group's breakthrough record, both sides of the band - the early experimentalism and the later attitude - are present. Of course, the former is present even in later releases, "Seductive Barry" resembling somewhat the rambling '80's-ness of Separations, but what makes His 'N' Hers such a clear transition is the embryonic nature of the catchy tunes found on the album, and perhaps its lack of consistency. Album opener "Joyriders" kicks off with almost quintessential Britpop attitude, delivered with a self-aware smugness and sexual depravity found throughout Pulp's oeuvre as well as that of musical blood-brothers Suede (though the two bands would likely not acknowledge each other as such). Still, the song itself is spotty just like the album, as the energy wanes a bit going into the chorus with the "Jesus sandals" bit. Similarly, the cynical but sensitive "Lipgloss" is followed with the moody but unremarkable "Acrylic Afternoons", but this is followed by the hidden brilliance of "Have You Seen Her Lately?", which is almost an alter-ego of "Lipgloss", responding to the same situation with pity and sympathy instead of "I told you so" cynicism at romance in general as in the latter. "Have You Seen Her Lately?" likewise flows with a bittersweet smoothness in contrast to the frenetic jumpiness of "Lipgloss". Next up is the brilliant "Babies" - a song so perfectly campy and sensitive that I'm at a loss to explain my sister's dislike for it - followed by the fairly terrible "She's A Lady", which seems even less necessary in my estimation for the fact that Pulp's own work is each song infinitely superior to "I Will Survive", which is more or less sampled in this song. "Happy Endings", sad and smooth like "Have You Seen Her Lately?" follows, however, rectifying the album's string of terrific songs, and it itself is followed by "Do You Remember the First Time?", a song so deceptively but obviously brilliant that I can do it justice with no description. "Pink Glove" is also sensitive and honest, expressive what everyone has felt at some point, following up well on "Do You Remember the First Time?". "Someone Like the Moon" and "David's Last Summer" are both perfectly enjoyable songs, but both lacking in the brilliant poppiness at which Pulp has shown itself so adroit. Single "Razzmatazz" is on my version, and is basically a breakup song in the mold of "Lipgloss", but is very enjoyable as well. His 'n' Hers is, all in all, an album consisting of its brilliant moments enough to justify it's near classic status, and some of the songs on this album best anything from Different Class or This is Hardcore, so it's certainly well worth checking out. The honesty and humility of this album, and Pulp in general, really set it apart. Similar in nature to Suede, Jarvis does not separate himself from the scene of the action as Brett Anderson tends to, so the feelings here are raw, and reflect success and failure in equal measure and all with total honesty. It's really one of the most enjoyable albums of the decade, albeit one that may prompt you to hit the skip button a few times. Highlights include "Babies," "Do You Remember the First Time?", and "Pink Glove".
JEREMY ENIGK - RETURN OF THE FROG QUEEN - 9/10
How do I define this album? First off, look back to my review of I Hope Your Heart is Not Brittle by Portastatic where I attempt to describe its aesthetic, and then graft that off of Mac McCaughan and onto Sunny Day Real Estate lead man Jeremy Enigk. Then infuse it with a fairy tale aesthetic, equal parts dark and light, whimsical and melancholy, and finally throw in a whole lot of instrumental complexity, and there you have it. This album is on the whole completely brilliant, somehow, and I'm not quite sure how, telling a story whose plot and characters take a back seat to its aesthetic and drama (perhaps the modernist interpretation of this story of "The Return of the Frog Queen", a Paul Klee interpretation, equal parts primitive and innovative, but on the whole mysterious and thrilling). Despite it's obscurity, augmented by the still strange accent of Jeremy Enigk (he still adds random W's to words), however, it is entirely meaningful and powerful. In the title track, a lightly flowing verse suddenly jolts into a strangely moving chorus in which Enigk determinedly intones "Every time you cry, I'll cry for you, and all these fumes will turn into mud!". Moments like these are the highlights of this album, which is best taken whole - it's not very long and flows impeccably. Thus, while some tracks would seem to be more bland than others, they feed into the drama that follows on others. What makes this album so much more brilliant than other concept based albums is that the music matches the mood perfectly. The idea is that Return of the Frog Queen is a fairy tale, and the music captures the Grimm aesthetic in all its wonder and frightfulness. It's passionate at times and relaxing at others, and really perfectly done. All in all, it's truly a gem - colorful, precious, perfectly consistent, but a bit small in the end. My only qualm is that I wish this album were double it's length - I could listen to it forever. In the end, sadly, there's only one Return of the Frog Queen: a brief testament to the imagination. I'm now determined that Jeremy Enigk deserves a place amongst the great musical minds of modern times, and even more so that Sunny Day Real Estate is a superior ensemble to the Foo Fighters that have inexplicably largely overshadowed them. Time will tell if this album ever gets the recognition it deserves. Highlights include "Return of the Frog Queen," "Lizard," and "Shade and the Black Hat".
BLUR - THE GREAT ESCAPE - 7.5/10
It's really an interesting exercise to think about how legacies form. Blur must have seemed clearly second place on this day in 1995 - Blur had released two quite good albums in Parklife and The Great Escape, but Oasis had just released Definitely Maybe and (What's the Story) Morning Glory? and must have seemed poised for a career plush with greatness. 13 and Blur, Be Here Now and Heathen Chemistry later, it seems like Blur was always the critic's darling of the two (not to speak of Pulp and Suede who are pretty equal to the other two behemoths in terms of quality). The Great Escape is a terrific album though. It's got its fair share of great songs and today sounds more experimental than anything Oasis ever released, either because it was or because the Oasis sound was adopted as mainstream in the years that followed. A few things put this album a tick below (What's the Story) Morning Glory?, however in overall quality, and help explain why this is the forgotten Blur album. First off, it's not as aesthetically consistent as many releases. A modernist malcontent theme runs through the album, but is broken up enough to make some songs seem extraneous. You have to work hard to see the connections between "Best Days" and "Country House", but they are there. The Great Escape follows on the heels of Parklife in analyzing the dissatisfaction of modern middle-class life, and all the songs generally point to that message. It is a compelling and relevant message, but the songs are all more or less catered to it - you have no larger than life statements of human greatness like "Live Forever" or "Some Might Say", though the latter certainly has less innate meaning. Secondly, and similarly, some of the songs are boring or somewhat unremarkable - "Top Man", "Mr. Robinson's Quango", and "He Thought of Cars" leave little lasting impression. Even the songs that are really quite great - "The Universal", "Yuko and Hiro", and even (or maybe especially) "Country House" and "Charmless Man" - take a few listens to really understand what makes them special. All in all though, this is a meaningful album and one that is really quite an enjoyable listen despite its inconsistencies. Highlights include "Best Days", "The Universal", and "Yuko and Hiro".
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Thursday, December 6, 2012
End of Semester Album Queue
I've gotten two new albums, but I like to do at least three at a time, so I'm thinking I'll either wait, or do the two I have with one of my all time classics. At the same time, I'm planning a post about one of my favorite bands: Slowdive. As soon as I haven't got papers and exams to take care of, I'll get on it. In the meantime:
1. Be Here Now - Oasis
2. Unfun - Jawbreaker
3. Parklife - Blur
4. Warnings/Promises - Idlewild
5. Mezcal Head - Swervedriver
6. Different Class - Pulp
7. Dig Out Your Soul - Oasis
8. No P or D - Ms. John Soda
9. Indoor Living - Superchunk
10. Isn't Anything - My Bloody Valentine
11. Going Blank Again - Ride
12. The Stone Roses - The Stone Roses
13. Rusty - Rodan
14. A Northern Soul - The Verve
15. Earthquake Glue - Guided by Voices
16. Heaven or Las Vegas - Cocteau Twins
17. Future Perfect - Autolux
18. Four Great Points - June of 44
19. The Great Escape - Blur
20. First Edition - The Fruit Tree Foundation
1. Be Here Now - Oasis
2. Unfun - Jawbreaker
3. Parklife - Blur
4. Warnings/Promises - Idlewild
5. Mezcal Head - Swervedriver
6. Different Class - Pulp
7. Dig Out Your Soul - Oasis
8. No P or D - Ms. John Soda
9. Indoor Living - Superchunk
10. Isn't Anything - My Bloody Valentine
11. Going Blank Again - Ride
12. The Stone Roses - The Stone Roses
13. Rusty - Rodan
14. A Northern Soul - The Verve
15. Earthquake Glue - Guided by Voices
16. Heaven or Las Vegas - Cocteau Twins
17. Future Perfect - Autolux
18. Four Great Points - June of 44
19. The Great Escape - Blur
20. First Edition - The Fruit Tree Foundation
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Quick Commentary II
I'm not sure if I've already done a second one of these, but I've got some things on my mind and should be writing a paper on Aristotle, so I hadn't much time.
With that in mind, I've returned to Pascal which I haven't read in some time (4 years, already?), but I think it's shaped my thinking greatly despite going into it intentionally skeptical. What I expected to dismiss as religious drivel I've since actually appropriated for myself. Anyway:
- A lot of people (Pascal and Aristotle, as well as Confucius included) think moderation is the way to go. Being an anarchist, I suppose I disagree with them
- Pascal, upon rereading him, seems to be a lot like Zeno of Elea in his approach, namely in his obsession with paradox and his general belief in the limits of human knowledge. I'm not sure people interpret him in the same way, however. I've seen far too many people taking Pascal's Wager seriously to think it the predominant reading of The Pensées, though academics probably do take the less literal approach
- I've been talking to people about agnosticism recently, and I still don't understand it. Perhaps it's just me, but I can't think of any subject I don't have at least a gut feeling about, regardless of evidence. I suppose, again, reading Pascal sort of made me skeptical of basing any belief on raw statistical probability, perhaps making me more susceptible to use faith instead of scientific reasoning.
- For me, the greatest challenge would be to unite faith and religion. Pascal attempts this through citing miracles (which he himself believed he had experienced first hand), but generally I find it difficult to unite my belief in God to any particular religion, having grown up an atheist with no natural predisposition. Logically speaking, I'd likely be a Muslim, because I find it more likely that God should continue to have made prophets after the last Hebrew prophets and after Jesus, but stopping at Mohammed doesn't logically make much sense either. Also, a just God, in my opinion, would not require rituals in His name, and would leave it up to each person to recognize Him as he or she pleased. This is generally incompatible with organized religion. As I see it, consistent personal behavior will always override ritual induced piety on its own
With that in mind, I've returned to Pascal which I haven't read in some time (4 years, already?), but I think it's shaped my thinking greatly despite going into it intentionally skeptical. What I expected to dismiss as religious drivel I've since actually appropriated for myself. Anyway:
- A lot of people (Pascal and Aristotle, as well as Confucius included) think moderation is the way to go. Being an anarchist, I suppose I disagree with them
- Pascal, upon rereading him, seems to be a lot like Zeno of Elea in his approach, namely in his obsession with paradox and his general belief in the limits of human knowledge. I'm not sure people interpret him in the same way, however. I've seen far too many people taking Pascal's Wager seriously to think it the predominant reading of The Pensées, though academics probably do take the less literal approach
- I've been talking to people about agnosticism recently, and I still don't understand it. Perhaps it's just me, but I can't think of any subject I don't have at least a gut feeling about, regardless of evidence. I suppose, again, reading Pascal sort of made me skeptical of basing any belief on raw statistical probability, perhaps making me more susceptible to use faith instead of scientific reasoning.
- For me, the greatest challenge would be to unite faith and religion. Pascal attempts this through citing miracles (which he himself believed he had experienced first hand), but generally I find it difficult to unite my belief in God to any particular religion, having grown up an atheist with no natural predisposition. Logically speaking, I'd likely be a Muslim, because I find it more likely that God should continue to have made prophets after the last Hebrew prophets and after Jesus, but stopping at Mohammed doesn't logically make much sense either. Also, a just God, in my opinion, would not require rituals in His name, and would leave it up to each person to recognize Him as he or she pleased. This is generally incompatible with organized religion. As I see it, consistent personal behavior will always override ritual induced piety on its own
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Idlewild and Post-Britpop
Perhaps what has made Idlewild so much less heralded than other indie acts that seem, to me at least, to be of lesser similar quality is their nebulous nature. Not only have they changed greatly over time, much to the chagrin of fans like myself, but they were never very easy to categorize in the first place.
Some [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Post-Britpop], however, have attempted to categorize them as Post-Britpop, which to me seemed initially inaccurate considering Britpop really didn't play much into their sound as far as I can tell. The more I think about it, however, it seems to make sense.
First of all, however, what is Post-Britpop? The term sounds like something rather obscure, but in reality it's perhaps one of the most popular musical genres of the past 10 years, including bands like Snow Patrol, Keane, Doves, and the titanically famous Coldplay and Radiohead. These bands all share a universal sentimentality of lyrical themes as well as often light and ambient instrumentation, both of which derive themselves from the Britpop era. The latter is pretty clear, as the music of Coldplay and the softer Post-Britpop bands is very clearly a more sanitized interpretation of Oasis and Blur's more typical rock sound, while Radiohead seems to follow more the edgier sound of Suede as well as the grunge movement that preceded Britpop in the musical consciousness. The sound is more standardized and more melodic, in general, than Britpop, which tended to be more idiosyncratic while also re-appropriating older themes and styles in a new aesthetic setting.
The lyrical themes, however, diverge greatly from those of Britpop, being, as stated previously, far more sentimental in nature than even a greater part of the prior movement. Consider for examples Keane's "Somewhere Only We Know", Coldplay's "Yellow" or "Viva la Vida", and Radiohead's "High and Dry". Now, sentimentality was indeed well represented in Britpop - Pulp's most popular songs thrive on being sympathetic in the same sense, and Blur and Oasis, who are perhaps the greatest influence on Post-Britpop, participating in it themselves after Be Here Now, also went in this direction - as an inheritance from the '80's Post-Punk of The Smiths and Joy Division as well as Britpop predecessors such as The Stone Roses and The La's. What differed in Britpop was that this sentimentality was used for an almost political message, to display the existential problems of the Thatcher and post-Thatcher Era working class. In Pulp, we see sentimentality primarily in a sexual context, with "Do You Remember the First Time?", "Pink Glove", "Disco 2000", and "Sylvia" being primary examples. Class conflict also plays a role, most notably on Different Class, with songs like "Mis-Shapes" and "Common People" pointing out the disconnect caused by economic stratification. Suede also uses sentimentality, though is decidedly edgier in general. Nonetheless, the less intense songs on Suede (easily identified when listening to the album) as well as songs like "The Chemistry Between Us", "The Wild Ones", and "The 2 of Us" similarly present the singer in a sympathetic state of inferiority. Once again, Suede tends to treat themes of sexuality and class, with an even greater honesty than Pulp and great melodrama besides. Blur also treats issues of class with sentimental tact, juxtaposing this with crass pop and rock cliches. Thus, we see in "Country House" a bouncy chorus balanced with falsetto moanings in the background, and "Parklife" juxtaposes musings on droll routines with a chorus that unites all of humanity in recognition of the inanity of life. Finally, there are Oasis, who, being very proudly of the lower class themselves, do not treat the same issues as their fellows. Noel Gallagher's song-writing goal was instead to provide an upbeat and positive counter to grunge, while songs like "She's Electric", "Digsy's Dinner", and "Cigarette's and Alcohol" also treat the routine of daily life.
How does Idlewild fit into this? Certainly, it's understandably that they should, at first glance, fall into the same category as post-Britpop artists. Taking alone The Remote Part, Idlewild's most popular album, released at the height of this movement, the similarities do exist. "American English" could easily be a Coldplay song, while "You Held the World In Your Arms" and "A Modern Way of Letting Go" could be perceived as deriving from the heavier moments of Oasis. Such a perception is only coincidentally feasible, since Idlewild's placement in Post-Britpop is really only possible for the sole moment of The Remote Part, taking all of Idlewild's oeuvre in context (with a healthy dose of hindsight), it's very easy to understand it not as a reflection of Britpop or even Post-Britpop sensibilities, but rather as a transition from Punk to Folk, as is clear in comparing the progression of Idlewild's albums from Hope is Important to Post-Electric Blues. Thus, The Remote Part has a very moderate sound because it is, even in every way, a very moderate album on the route from loud punk to withdrawn folk.
Then if the sounds is thus explained, where does the sentimentality come from? To be clear, Idlewild has always been sentimental and honest. Even on Captain and Hope is Important, tracks like "Self Healer" and "You Don't Have the Heart" have been offset by "Annihilate Now!" (a less brash song than the title would imply), "I'm Happy to be Here Tonight", and "Safe and Sound". My hypothesis is that, leaving all personal sentimentality aside, the aesthetic reflected here comes not from Britpop or the introverted post-Punk that preceded and inspired it, but rather from Punk itself, especially, as I see it, from Superchunk and, in albums like The Remote Part, R.E.M. To me, Superchunk seems like a clear forerunner to the ideas espoused in albums like Hope is Important and 100 Broken Windows. It's edgy, but with feeling - lines like "I'll be the stick in your spokes, so you better laugh at my jokes" display a youthful sarcasm that also expresses a sense of inferiority very similar to that of Idlewild's music, in general, with lines such as "listen to what you've got (I'm what you've got), until you realize that it's nothing" and "I have to stop saying, 'to be honest'. It's not a real defeat to have to stop saying, 'to be honest'". This conflict of appearances and reality, of sensitivity and a facade of inner fortitude, is not dissimilar to that of Britpop in general, and Idlewild's inclination toward folk - something that unfortunately happens to many bands that I like, including Slowdive and Teenage Fanclub as well - served to temper this Superchunk-esque sentimentality to something more akin to that of the Post-Britpop balladeers.
In conclusion, then, the similar aesthetics found in Idlewild's transitionary work and that of the Post-Britpop artists is likely a mere coincidence: a coincidence that implies first an interesting message about the confluence of musical styles and influences and their varying effects and secondly a need for caution when attempting to identify such influences.
Some [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Post-Britpop], however, have attempted to categorize them as Post-Britpop, which to me seemed initially inaccurate considering Britpop really didn't play much into their sound as far as I can tell. The more I think about it, however, it seems to make sense.
First of all, however, what is Post-Britpop? The term sounds like something rather obscure, but in reality it's perhaps one of the most popular musical genres of the past 10 years, including bands like Snow Patrol, Keane, Doves, and the titanically famous Coldplay and Radiohead. These bands all share a universal sentimentality of lyrical themes as well as often light and ambient instrumentation, both of which derive themselves from the Britpop era. The latter is pretty clear, as the music of Coldplay and the softer Post-Britpop bands is very clearly a more sanitized interpretation of Oasis and Blur's more typical rock sound, while Radiohead seems to follow more the edgier sound of Suede as well as the grunge movement that preceded Britpop in the musical consciousness. The sound is more standardized and more melodic, in general, than Britpop, which tended to be more idiosyncratic while also re-appropriating older themes and styles in a new aesthetic setting.
The lyrical themes, however, diverge greatly from those of Britpop, being, as stated previously, far more sentimental in nature than even a greater part of the prior movement. Consider for examples Keane's "Somewhere Only We Know", Coldplay's "Yellow" or "Viva la Vida", and Radiohead's "High and Dry". Now, sentimentality was indeed well represented in Britpop - Pulp's most popular songs thrive on being sympathetic in the same sense, and Blur and Oasis, who are perhaps the greatest influence on Post-Britpop, participating in it themselves after Be Here Now, also went in this direction - as an inheritance from the '80's Post-Punk of The Smiths and Joy Division as well as Britpop predecessors such as The Stone Roses and The La's. What differed in Britpop was that this sentimentality was used for an almost political message, to display the existential problems of the Thatcher and post-Thatcher Era working class. In Pulp, we see sentimentality primarily in a sexual context, with "Do You Remember the First Time?", "Pink Glove", "Disco 2000", and "Sylvia" being primary examples. Class conflict also plays a role, most notably on Different Class, with songs like "Mis-Shapes" and "Common People" pointing out the disconnect caused by economic stratification. Suede also uses sentimentality, though is decidedly edgier in general. Nonetheless, the less intense songs on Suede (easily identified when listening to the album) as well as songs like "The Chemistry Between Us", "The Wild Ones", and "The 2 of Us" similarly present the singer in a sympathetic state of inferiority. Once again, Suede tends to treat themes of sexuality and class, with an even greater honesty than Pulp and great melodrama besides. Blur also treats issues of class with sentimental tact, juxtaposing this with crass pop and rock cliches. Thus, we see in "Country House" a bouncy chorus balanced with falsetto moanings in the background, and "Parklife" juxtaposes musings on droll routines with a chorus that unites all of humanity in recognition of the inanity of life. Finally, there are Oasis, who, being very proudly of the lower class themselves, do not treat the same issues as their fellows. Noel Gallagher's song-writing goal was instead to provide an upbeat and positive counter to grunge, while songs like "She's Electric", "Digsy's Dinner", and "Cigarette's and Alcohol" also treat the routine of daily life.
How does Idlewild fit into this? Certainly, it's understandably that they should, at first glance, fall into the same category as post-Britpop artists. Taking alone The Remote Part, Idlewild's most popular album, released at the height of this movement, the similarities do exist. "American English" could easily be a Coldplay song, while "You Held the World In Your Arms" and "A Modern Way of Letting Go" could be perceived as deriving from the heavier moments of Oasis. Such a perception is only coincidentally feasible, since Idlewild's placement in Post-Britpop is really only possible for the sole moment of The Remote Part, taking all of Idlewild's oeuvre in context (with a healthy dose of hindsight), it's very easy to understand it not as a reflection of Britpop or even Post-Britpop sensibilities, but rather as a transition from Punk to Folk, as is clear in comparing the progression of Idlewild's albums from Hope is Important to Post-Electric Blues. Thus, The Remote Part has a very moderate sound because it is, even in every way, a very moderate album on the route from loud punk to withdrawn folk.
Then if the sounds is thus explained, where does the sentimentality come from? To be clear, Idlewild has always been sentimental and honest. Even on Captain and Hope is Important, tracks like "Self Healer" and "You Don't Have the Heart" have been offset by "Annihilate Now!" (a less brash song than the title would imply), "I'm Happy to be Here Tonight", and "Safe and Sound". My hypothesis is that, leaving all personal sentimentality aside, the aesthetic reflected here comes not from Britpop or the introverted post-Punk that preceded and inspired it, but rather from Punk itself, especially, as I see it, from Superchunk and, in albums like The Remote Part, R.E.M. To me, Superchunk seems like a clear forerunner to the ideas espoused in albums like Hope is Important and 100 Broken Windows. It's edgy, but with feeling - lines like "I'll be the stick in your spokes, so you better laugh at my jokes" display a youthful sarcasm that also expresses a sense of inferiority very similar to that of Idlewild's music, in general, with lines such as "listen to what you've got (I'm what you've got), until you realize that it's nothing" and "I have to stop saying, 'to be honest'. It's not a real defeat to have to stop saying, 'to be honest'". This conflict of appearances and reality, of sensitivity and a facade of inner fortitude, is not dissimilar to that of Britpop in general, and Idlewild's inclination toward folk - something that unfortunately happens to many bands that I like, including Slowdive and Teenage Fanclub as well - served to temper this Superchunk-esque sentimentality to something more akin to that of the Post-Britpop balladeers.
In conclusion, then, the similar aesthetics found in Idlewild's transitionary work and that of the Post-Britpop artists is likely a mere coincidence: a coincidence that implies first an interesting message about the confluence of musical styles and influences and their varying effects and secondly a need for caution when attempting to identify such influences.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
New MBV Album Due
First off, what? To me, this is an incredible surprise that came absolutely out of nowhere. Plenty of shoegaze bands have reissued their old albums in the past 5-10 years, Slowdive, Chapterhouse, Swervedriver, and Ride among them, but none of them have gone about recording new material, so obviously this is almost a dream come true that I would not have expected (though it does appear that Kevin Shields & Co. put a ton of effort into their remasterings, while the bands named above haven't really gotten together recently for anything, so maybe this isn't such a surprise).
There's one interesting caveat though: http://www.nme.com/news/my-bloody-valentine/64118. "The new My Bloody Valentine album was influenced by the Beach Boys". For someone as pedantic as myself, this isn't exactly welcome news. When bands start working with out-of-left-field pop influences, some odd things happen - consider Idlewild's post-Remote Part output and Suede's A New Morning for examples.
There is some hope, however. In the news section of the My Bloody Valentine website, there's a quote from Kevin Shields where he says, "The songs on Loveless had more in common with folk-blues music to me." If Loveless was inspired by generally bland folk and blues, I'm not too worried about a Beach Boys inspired MBV album.
There's one interesting caveat though: http://www.nme.com/news/my-bloody-valentine/64118. "The new My Bloody Valentine album was influenced by the Beach Boys". For someone as pedantic as myself, this isn't exactly welcome news. When bands start working with out-of-left-field pop influences, some odd things happen - consider Idlewild's post-Remote Part output and Suede's A New Morning for examples.
There is some hope, however. In the news section of the My Bloody Valentine website, there's a quote from Kevin Shields where he says, "The songs on Loveless had more in common with folk-blues music to me." If Loveless was inspired by generally bland folk and blues, I'm not too worried about a Beach Boys inspired MBV album.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Album Reviews - not fitting for Halloween edition
PORTASTATIC - I HOPE YOUR HEART IS NOT BRITTLE - 8.5/10
This is the first of two Mac McCaughan involving records that I will be reviewing today, and it is certainly the more unexpected of the two. Where Superchunk is frequently brash and energetic, Mac McCaughan's more or less solo debut with the Portastatic moniker is very nearly anything but, with only "Tree Killer" really expressive of the sort of fast paced kineticism typical of McCaughan's regular gig. The change involved in I Hope Your Heart is not Brittle is not unwelcome, however. In place of the rowdy teen punk wannabe sound that Superchunk seems to eternally encompass, even as the band members surpass 40 years of age, this Portastatic debut is remarkably laid back. Rather than surging, it meanders slowly through melody after melody, with a disinterestedness that is every bit as endearing as Superchunk's anxiously zooming nerves. Where Superchunk tries to be '80's punk but is too nice to do it all the way, Portastatic, at least on this record, seems to want to show some post-rock atmosphere but is again to sunny to pull it off. I Hope Your Heart is not Brittle has the same fireside warmth of Rachel's or sedate Mogwai and infuses it with a sort of lo-fi folkiness. What emerges is a sort of Americana that is not entirely surprising. Just as Superchunk practically embodies American indie rock with its fusion of pointedly American punk and hardcore with American good kid attitude (the sort of attitude Suede or Blur could never pull off), Portastatic brings out a sort of American backcountry relaxation and laziness (as opposed to the frenetic pace I associate with the American cityscape) and infuses it with the earnest sensitivity that it deserves but rarely gets in a way that's neither proud nor showy. This is not really a folk-record, though. It's far too self-aware and creative for that. It is, however, perhaps the ideal autumn record. Highlights include "Polaroid", "Creeping Around", and "Naked Pilseners".
SUPERCHUNK - ON THE MOUTH - 8/10
It's clear from the first note that this album is nothing like I Hope Your Heart is not Brittle, if one were to compare the two - a prospect which immediately seems silly. On the Mouth is pumped full of angst, energy, and determination. Opener "Precision Auto" declares as much, as McCaughan sings, "do not pass me just to slow down: I have precision auto." I'm not sure what the words mean, but the sense in which he sings it makes it clear that Superchunk has somewhere to go, they work hard to get there in this album. In many ways, On the Mouth is the paragon of Superchunk albums. Where No Pocky for Kitty was harsh and moody, On the Mouth takes this energy and infuses it with a happy-go-lucky angst that has become Superchunk's identity. For this reason, it would probably make a great intro to the band for someone who wanted to sum it up in 45 minutes. In general, it's also pretty solid and very consistent - maybe too consistent. To be sure, I prefer the layout of this album to that of Here's Where the Strings Come In, which started out brilliantly but fell off by the end, but there is less variety here than in No Pocky for Kitty, Come Pick Me Up, or the more recent Majesty Shredding - all undeniably spectacular albums. Taken individually, all of the songs on On the Mouth are pretty spectacular, and though Superchunk does well to slow things down every so often here, to great effect on "Mower" and "Swallow That", it in general starts to feel like they're sometimes just going through the motions at times, though, I should clarify, it's not as if this album lacks passion. Altogether, it's a solid album, and a very Superchunk album. Perhaps because of this, it doesn't feel as new or different as Come Pick Me Up does. Highlights include "For Tension", "Package Thief", and "Swallow That".
SWERVEDRIVER - RAISE - 8.5/10
Swervedriver has always seemed like the best of all possible bands to me. They're a little bit shoegaze, a little bit grunge; a little bit indie, a little bit rock 'n' roll (I'm sorry: I hate that term and I promise I meant to use it ironically). Raise is just a very, very good album, but one that's hard to describe because it's got a bit of everything in it. I'm not really sure why it gets the shoegaze categorization - there's a good deal of texture here, at least as much as you would find in Ride, for instance, but this isn't sweeping, elegant music. It's loud and punchy. It's even good driving music, because this band is called Swervedriver and there are songs called "Song of Mustang Ford", "Pile Up", and "Deep Seat" on it. It doesn't come off as crass, though. This somehow manages to be a cool kid's album with some awareness, and despite "Pile Up" sounding like arcade driving game music, the rest of it is heavy in a way that imparts a pensive atmosphere. Rather than being loud and noisy like a souped up Camry, Raise is sleek and thought provoking like an Alfa Romeo. This aspect of introspection is really necessary here, and Swervedriver do a great job of it. With a bit more consistency on this, their debut, Swervedriver would have hit it out of the park on the first try, but as it stands they would have to wait for their next two albums to do that. Highlights include "Rave Down", "Sandblasted", and "Deep Seat".
SUEDE - COMING UP - 9/10
Suede's first two albums are consensus classics, yet Coming Up isn't. To be honest, having bought and listened to it, I'm not quite sure why. It's undoubtedly poppier, but it's poppy in a novel and entertaining way. Album opener "Trash" isn't just a hit single - it's a hit single with a message about superficiality and all those other Brett Anderson lyrical obsessions and a bittersweet guitar riff that soars above the rest of the music. What does this tell us? First of all, Richard Oakes may not be Bernard Butler, but he's no slouch. Of course the anecdote is that Brett thought his tape was a Butler demo, but he really does bring a great deal to the table. The atmospheric's on Coming Up are certainly different than those of Suede's first two albums, but that doesn't mean they're bad. Previously, Suede's sound was consumed in darkness, and Butler provided a veritable cornucopia of sounds to back up Anderson's high and angsty voice. Here, the production tends toward the high end, giving it a "cellophane sound", as Anderson intones in "Trash", that evokes the superficiality of music as a whole. Some have also poked fun at Anderson's self-derivitive lexicon. For instance, he uses the probably meaningless phrase "heavy metal stutter" in "Starcrazy" as well as Dog Man Star era B-side "Killing of a Flashboy". I will agree that this does nothing for me, and I don't like the phrase in either song. In the end, this challenge is meaningless, however. Anderson is working toward a new, ultra-modern vocabulary that has been missing from poetic discourse. He's not trying to talk about things in the accepted vocabulary of Romantic poetry and Realist novels, he's trying to invent a new lingo that properly explains contemporary society, and if he has to use eminently modern words with no real long tested connotations, there's no fault in that. In fact, it adds a valuable lyrical imagery to an album whose sound aesthetic already tends toward the ultramodern. Coming Up may be a bright and sugary album, in contrast to its dark and depraved predecessors, but its sparkly exterior is a but a showy facade that works because it's self-aware. Closer "Saturday Night" and the melancholic "Starcrazy" remind us that the happy go lucky attitude that seems to pervade "Trash", "Beautiful Ones", and "Lazy" are by no means meant to be taken seriously, and the almost Blur-esque sarcasm of "Picnic by the Motorway", with an emptily echoing chorus reminiscent of such Blur tunes as "Yuko and Hiro" and "The Universal", backs this up. Coming Up, like every Suede album, has its inconsistencies. "Filmstar" and "She" fall well short of the rest of the album, just as "Introducing the Band" and "The Power" lacked the subtlety of the remainder of Dog Man Star and "Moving" and "Animal Lover" lacked the depth of the rest of Suede. All in all, however, Coming Up is every bit as good anything else Suede ever did, fusing Anderson's dark wit with an ironic bubblegum texture that confuses our expectations and thus makes for an interesting shift from the previously established Suede aesthetic. It seems they weren't able to continue their high quality output afterward, but this first release without Bernard Butler should have served to secure Brett Anderson's status as one of the great musicians of recent times. Highlights include "Trash", "Beautiful Ones", and "Starcrazy".
This is the first of two Mac McCaughan involving records that I will be reviewing today, and it is certainly the more unexpected of the two. Where Superchunk is frequently brash and energetic, Mac McCaughan's more or less solo debut with the Portastatic moniker is very nearly anything but, with only "Tree Killer" really expressive of the sort of fast paced kineticism typical of McCaughan's regular gig. The change involved in I Hope Your Heart is not Brittle is not unwelcome, however. In place of the rowdy teen punk wannabe sound that Superchunk seems to eternally encompass, even as the band members surpass 40 years of age, this Portastatic debut is remarkably laid back. Rather than surging, it meanders slowly through melody after melody, with a disinterestedness that is every bit as endearing as Superchunk's anxiously zooming nerves. Where Superchunk tries to be '80's punk but is too nice to do it all the way, Portastatic, at least on this record, seems to want to show some post-rock atmosphere but is again to sunny to pull it off. I Hope Your Heart is not Brittle has the same fireside warmth of Rachel's or sedate Mogwai and infuses it with a sort of lo-fi folkiness. What emerges is a sort of Americana that is not entirely surprising. Just as Superchunk practically embodies American indie rock with its fusion of pointedly American punk and hardcore with American good kid attitude (the sort of attitude Suede or Blur could never pull off), Portastatic brings out a sort of American backcountry relaxation and laziness (as opposed to the frenetic pace I associate with the American cityscape) and infuses it with the earnest sensitivity that it deserves but rarely gets in a way that's neither proud nor showy. This is not really a folk-record, though. It's far too self-aware and creative for that. It is, however, perhaps the ideal autumn record. Highlights include "Polaroid", "Creeping Around", and "Naked Pilseners".
SUPERCHUNK - ON THE MOUTH - 8/10
It's clear from the first note that this album is nothing like I Hope Your Heart is not Brittle, if one were to compare the two - a prospect which immediately seems silly. On the Mouth is pumped full of angst, energy, and determination. Opener "Precision Auto" declares as much, as McCaughan sings, "do not pass me just to slow down: I have precision auto." I'm not sure what the words mean, but the sense in which he sings it makes it clear that Superchunk has somewhere to go, they work hard to get there in this album. In many ways, On the Mouth is the paragon of Superchunk albums. Where No Pocky for Kitty was harsh and moody, On the Mouth takes this energy and infuses it with a happy-go-lucky angst that has become Superchunk's identity. For this reason, it would probably make a great intro to the band for someone who wanted to sum it up in 45 minutes. In general, it's also pretty solid and very consistent - maybe too consistent. To be sure, I prefer the layout of this album to that of Here's Where the Strings Come In, which started out brilliantly but fell off by the end, but there is less variety here than in No Pocky for Kitty, Come Pick Me Up, or the more recent Majesty Shredding - all undeniably spectacular albums. Taken individually, all of the songs on On the Mouth are pretty spectacular, and though Superchunk does well to slow things down every so often here, to great effect on "Mower" and "Swallow That", it in general starts to feel like they're sometimes just going through the motions at times, though, I should clarify, it's not as if this album lacks passion. Altogether, it's a solid album, and a very Superchunk album. Perhaps because of this, it doesn't feel as new or different as Come Pick Me Up does. Highlights include "For Tension", "Package Thief", and "Swallow That".
SWERVEDRIVER - RAISE - 8.5/10
Swervedriver has always seemed like the best of all possible bands to me. They're a little bit shoegaze, a little bit grunge; a little bit indie, a little bit rock 'n' roll (I'm sorry: I hate that term and I promise I meant to use it ironically). Raise is just a very, very good album, but one that's hard to describe because it's got a bit of everything in it. I'm not really sure why it gets the shoegaze categorization - there's a good deal of texture here, at least as much as you would find in Ride, for instance, but this isn't sweeping, elegant music. It's loud and punchy. It's even good driving music, because this band is called Swervedriver and there are songs called "Song of Mustang Ford", "Pile Up", and "Deep Seat" on it. It doesn't come off as crass, though. This somehow manages to be a cool kid's album with some awareness, and despite "Pile Up" sounding like arcade driving game music, the rest of it is heavy in a way that imparts a pensive atmosphere. Rather than being loud and noisy like a souped up Camry, Raise is sleek and thought provoking like an Alfa Romeo. This aspect of introspection is really necessary here, and Swervedriver do a great job of it. With a bit more consistency on this, their debut, Swervedriver would have hit it out of the park on the first try, but as it stands they would have to wait for their next two albums to do that. Highlights include "Rave Down", "Sandblasted", and "Deep Seat".
SUEDE - COMING UP - 9/10
Suede's first two albums are consensus classics, yet Coming Up isn't. To be honest, having bought and listened to it, I'm not quite sure why. It's undoubtedly poppier, but it's poppy in a novel and entertaining way. Album opener "Trash" isn't just a hit single - it's a hit single with a message about superficiality and all those other Brett Anderson lyrical obsessions and a bittersweet guitar riff that soars above the rest of the music. What does this tell us? First of all, Richard Oakes may not be Bernard Butler, but he's no slouch. Of course the anecdote is that Brett thought his tape was a Butler demo, but he really does bring a great deal to the table. The atmospheric's on Coming Up are certainly different than those of Suede's first two albums, but that doesn't mean they're bad. Previously, Suede's sound was consumed in darkness, and Butler provided a veritable cornucopia of sounds to back up Anderson's high and angsty voice. Here, the production tends toward the high end, giving it a "cellophane sound", as Anderson intones in "Trash", that evokes the superficiality of music as a whole. Some have also poked fun at Anderson's self-derivitive lexicon. For instance, he uses the probably meaningless phrase "heavy metal stutter" in "Starcrazy" as well as Dog Man Star era B-side "Killing of a Flashboy". I will agree that this does nothing for me, and I don't like the phrase in either song. In the end, this challenge is meaningless, however. Anderson is working toward a new, ultra-modern vocabulary that has been missing from poetic discourse. He's not trying to talk about things in the accepted vocabulary of Romantic poetry and Realist novels, he's trying to invent a new lingo that properly explains contemporary society, and if he has to use eminently modern words with no real long tested connotations, there's no fault in that. In fact, it adds a valuable lyrical imagery to an album whose sound aesthetic already tends toward the ultramodern. Coming Up may be a bright and sugary album, in contrast to its dark and depraved predecessors, but its sparkly exterior is a but a showy facade that works because it's self-aware. Closer "Saturday Night" and the melancholic "Starcrazy" remind us that the happy go lucky attitude that seems to pervade "Trash", "Beautiful Ones", and "Lazy" are by no means meant to be taken seriously, and the almost Blur-esque sarcasm of "Picnic by the Motorway", with an emptily echoing chorus reminiscent of such Blur tunes as "Yuko and Hiro" and "The Universal", backs this up. Coming Up, like every Suede album, has its inconsistencies. "Filmstar" and "She" fall well short of the rest of the album, just as "Introducing the Band" and "The Power" lacked the subtlety of the remainder of Dog Man Star and "Moving" and "Animal Lover" lacked the depth of the rest of Suede. All in all, however, Coming Up is every bit as good anything else Suede ever did, fusing Anderson's dark wit with an ironic bubblegum texture that confuses our expectations and thus makes for an interesting shift from the previously established Suede aesthetic. It seems they weren't able to continue their high quality output afterward, but this first release without Bernard Butler should have served to secure Brett Anderson's status as one of the great musicians of recent times. Highlights include "Trash", "Beautiful Ones", and "Starcrazy".
Thursday, October 25, 2012
In Defense of Oasis
Quite the arduous task, isn't it? But despite being frequently brilliant, though at times merely good, Oasis has never been a critic's darling. Even their successes are swept under the rug: check out this brief comment on "Live Forever" if you don't believe me [http://pitchfork.com/features/staff-lists/7852-the-top-200-tracks-of-the-1990s-50-21/]. It's all their own fault, really, and it wasn't just their in your face attitude - Blur never gets half the posthumous dissing even though Damon Albarn has every bit of the attitude that the brothers Gallagher have, but if you start acting like The Beatles, suddenly people think you think you are The Beatles. The fact that Oasis never were about reinventing the wheel brings about challenges of plagiarism that are in some cases accurate. That Oasis seemed to want to be their idols just makes them more susceptible - in 1993 Liam was wearing Ian Brown's hair, in 2003 he was wearing John Lennon's glasses. That post-Be Here Now Oasis was a mere shadow of their former selves makes them fruit ripe for the picking, when the transition between pop stardom and indie quaintness is seen as the ultimate sin, even as bonafide indie stardom becomes more and more real, and Bon Iver and Arcade Fire take home Grammies.
Oasis don't come off to me as just a bunch of wannabe rock star copycats, though. Sure, they didn't make much of an effort to differentiate themselves from their influences, but the music they recorded was so much more than The Beatles, 1990 Edition. The Beatles never had the power or the passion that reveals itself in Oasis, and for that reason, we can at the very least thank Oasis for bringing The Beatles to the sensitive chap. In this sense, Oasis is the ultimate fusion of popular music. The older styles can't be missed, and I won't try to pretend they aren't there, but Oasis takes them to infinitely more dizzying heights. "Don't Look Back In Anger" may take some of the piano bit from "Imagine", but it then does what Lennon never could, which was write a boy meets girl song with some reality and some emotion in it. This realism is the real core of Oasis' music. The images they present are intense and powerful, yet they're grounded in reality, and Liam's vocals and Noel's guitar have the power and passion to match these forces.
Definitely Maybe, being Oasis' first album, is able to avoid a great deal of criticism. Where it's heavy, this gravity is palpable - "Live Forever" and "Slide Away" display a passion that many would deny Oasis ever had. These songs not only have a desperate energy that can't be missed by the listener, but treat subjects very real to our own life: the unachievability of lasting life and love. The difference on Definitely Maybe, when it comes to the critic's perspective, is that when Oasis doesn't try to be weighty, they don't end up being straight pop. In a sense, perhaps the critics are too generous to Oasis' debut. "Rock 'n' Roll Star", "Supersonic", and "Shakermaker" cover subjects of no greater intellectual and emotional vitality than the banal moneymaking songs of Bon Jovi or Aerosmith. On Definitely Maybe, however, this comes off as a sort of innocence that I don't think is at all absent. "Rock 'n' Roll Star" may be the sole song about wanting to be a rock star that is actually genuine. The realism of Oasis' early music is that they're true working class Mancunians, and therein lay much of their charm for the Britpop fanatics of the '90's. When Liam says it, he really means it. This is what makes "Digsy's Dinner" and "Married with Children" such timeless works of art. The former is an endlessly charming song about the lightest of romantic interactions and the permanence they can achieve, and the earnestness in Liam's voice is an instant winner. The latter is almost the opposite: an unashamed yet not gloating break-up litany, yet it manages to be this without either complaining or ranting. It's character assassination is so gentle as to be non existent, and this makes it seem so real. Definitely Maybe is an album of blue collar urbanites showing their softer side, and maybe not quite knowing how to do it, making it an absolutely likable album.
What's the Story (Morning Glory)? is a step toward the Oasis everybody knows, and many don't love. There is indeed a sense of self-importance here that was missing in their debut, but this is not a hindrance. Instead, it enables the true flowering of Oasis' musical genius. How so? This sense of self-importance does have the drawback of making any flaws not only apparent, but painful. On Definitely Maybe, the band could get away with a pointless or pedestrian lyric, or an inaccurate observation, because it had an aura of carefree innocence, like it was just a practice round that shouldn't be judged too seriously, and any "Live Forever" type triumphs become a sort of spontaneous burst of musical genius, the sort of thing Blake, Byron, or Pushkin would be proud of. On What's the Story, this safety net is gone, and the stakes are much higher, because this is a serious album, not playful stuff. Nonetheless, they hit it out of the park more often than not. It starts slowly, "Hello" sputtering at times, and "Roll with It" alternating bland pop with touching sincerity, but it soon hits its stride. Though not the biggest "Wonderwall" fan, I must admit the popularity it has gained for being the sort of serious song of which I speak, and the album only goes up from there. "Don't Look Back in Anger" takes the predictable, and flips it, taking optimistic and wide-eyed imagery and crafting from it a song about failure as well as success, a song about people being people, warts and all, just trying to get ahead. Listen to it again: it's more real than it would seem. "Hey Now!" goes past this mark, mixing not joviality into it. It is very much a patchwork of dark and moody symbols, whose refrain brings us to think about our connections to the past as individuals. After a brief instrumental that is like a 40 second slice of the '90's as I remember it, "Some Might Say" ensues, with its intense guitar riff turning into a message of secular faith and hope, reminding us that our daily lives may indeed have a purpose. "Cast No Shadow", perhaps the deepest song of the album, is a comment on the essence of the songwriter, a modern poet taking up the labor of that the imagists left undone. "She's Electric" is a bit of neo-Digsy's nostalgia that is to some extent repeated in "Champagne Supernova" with the added question, "how many special people change?", while the title track is the most intense song on the album, raising more questions than it answers. What's the Story (Morning Glory)? is a serious work of songwriting, and perhaps it was too serious. For Be Here Now and it's successors, Oasis adopted the soul of What's the Story (Morning Glory)? and took it farther than it could perhaps ever go. It's philosophical soul was lost for the Oasis creed of optimism in the face of ever darkening times, while its fragile seriousness was preserved even when the material didn't match this atmosphere. Thus the decline of Oasis, which for many became a caricature of rock stardom, the very essence of taking one's self too seriously. Oasis' first two albums, however, show that this seriousness was very justified.
Oasis don't come off to me as just a bunch of wannabe rock star copycats, though. Sure, they didn't make much of an effort to differentiate themselves from their influences, but the music they recorded was so much more than The Beatles, 1990 Edition. The Beatles never had the power or the passion that reveals itself in Oasis, and for that reason, we can at the very least thank Oasis for bringing The Beatles to the sensitive chap. In this sense, Oasis is the ultimate fusion of popular music. The older styles can't be missed, and I won't try to pretend they aren't there, but Oasis takes them to infinitely more dizzying heights. "Don't Look Back In Anger" may take some of the piano bit from "Imagine", but it then does what Lennon never could, which was write a boy meets girl song with some reality and some emotion in it. This realism is the real core of Oasis' music. The images they present are intense and powerful, yet they're grounded in reality, and Liam's vocals and Noel's guitar have the power and passion to match these forces.
Definitely Maybe, being Oasis' first album, is able to avoid a great deal of criticism. Where it's heavy, this gravity is palpable - "Live Forever" and "Slide Away" display a passion that many would deny Oasis ever had. These songs not only have a desperate energy that can't be missed by the listener, but treat subjects very real to our own life: the unachievability of lasting life and love. The difference on Definitely Maybe, when it comes to the critic's perspective, is that when Oasis doesn't try to be weighty, they don't end up being straight pop. In a sense, perhaps the critics are too generous to Oasis' debut. "Rock 'n' Roll Star", "Supersonic", and "Shakermaker" cover subjects of no greater intellectual and emotional vitality than the banal moneymaking songs of Bon Jovi or Aerosmith. On Definitely Maybe, however, this comes off as a sort of innocence that I don't think is at all absent. "Rock 'n' Roll Star" may be the sole song about wanting to be a rock star that is actually genuine. The realism of Oasis' early music is that they're true working class Mancunians, and therein lay much of their charm for the Britpop fanatics of the '90's. When Liam says it, he really means it. This is what makes "Digsy's Dinner" and "Married with Children" such timeless works of art. The former is an endlessly charming song about the lightest of romantic interactions and the permanence they can achieve, and the earnestness in Liam's voice is an instant winner. The latter is almost the opposite: an unashamed yet not gloating break-up litany, yet it manages to be this without either complaining or ranting. It's character assassination is so gentle as to be non existent, and this makes it seem so real. Definitely Maybe is an album of blue collar urbanites showing their softer side, and maybe not quite knowing how to do it, making it an absolutely likable album.
What's the Story (Morning Glory)? is a step toward the Oasis everybody knows, and many don't love. There is indeed a sense of self-importance here that was missing in their debut, but this is not a hindrance. Instead, it enables the true flowering of Oasis' musical genius. How so? This sense of self-importance does have the drawback of making any flaws not only apparent, but painful. On Definitely Maybe, the band could get away with a pointless or pedestrian lyric, or an inaccurate observation, because it had an aura of carefree innocence, like it was just a practice round that shouldn't be judged too seriously, and any "Live Forever" type triumphs become a sort of spontaneous burst of musical genius, the sort of thing Blake, Byron, or Pushkin would be proud of. On What's the Story, this safety net is gone, and the stakes are much higher, because this is a serious album, not playful stuff. Nonetheless, they hit it out of the park more often than not. It starts slowly, "Hello" sputtering at times, and "Roll with It" alternating bland pop with touching sincerity, but it soon hits its stride. Though not the biggest "Wonderwall" fan, I must admit the popularity it has gained for being the sort of serious song of which I speak, and the album only goes up from there. "Don't Look Back in Anger" takes the predictable, and flips it, taking optimistic and wide-eyed imagery and crafting from it a song about failure as well as success, a song about people being people, warts and all, just trying to get ahead. Listen to it again: it's more real than it would seem. "Hey Now!" goes past this mark, mixing not joviality into it. It is very much a patchwork of dark and moody symbols, whose refrain brings us to think about our connections to the past as individuals. After a brief instrumental that is like a 40 second slice of the '90's as I remember it, "Some Might Say" ensues, with its intense guitar riff turning into a message of secular faith and hope, reminding us that our daily lives may indeed have a purpose. "Cast No Shadow", perhaps the deepest song of the album, is a comment on the essence of the songwriter, a modern poet taking up the labor of that the imagists left undone. "She's Electric" is a bit of neo-Digsy's nostalgia that is to some extent repeated in "Champagne Supernova" with the added question, "how many special people change?", while the title track is the most intense song on the album, raising more questions than it answers. What's the Story (Morning Glory)? is a serious work of songwriting, and perhaps it was too serious. For Be Here Now and it's successors, Oasis adopted the soul of What's the Story (Morning Glory)? and took it farther than it could perhaps ever go. It's philosophical soul was lost for the Oasis creed of optimism in the face of ever darkening times, while its fragile seriousness was preserved even when the material didn't match this atmosphere. Thus the decline of Oasis, which for many became a caricature of rock stardom, the very essence of taking one's self too seriously. Oasis' first two albums, however, show that this seriousness was very justified.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Rereviews, plus an all time favorite
GUIDED BY VOICES - UNDER THE BUSHES, UNDER THE STARS
I've been meaning to do this for awhile, and have now time and inclination to get around to it. In my original review, I called it "good, but not great", giving it the same score as Eric's Trip's Forever Again at a 7/10 (for anyone looking to get into Eric's Trip, I recommend the superior Love Tara), one of the issues being that in comparison to Bee Thousand and Alien Lanes, it was hardly experimental. This may have been correct, but I think Under the Bushes offers more of something for everyone even than their prior two albums, while also, in my opinion, having more awesome songs than more palatable later works like Isolation Drills. First off, this album is almost as experimental as Alien Lanes: to a non-GBV fan, "Man Called Aerodynamics" sounds just as out there as "Ex-Supermodel". Robert Pollard just approaches things so differently, you sort of have to forgive all of his foibles. Admittedly, the first half is weak by Guided by Voices standards (which is to say, admitting the odd piece of crap for a few gems). "Rhine Jive Click" and "Lord of Overstock" are eminently forgettable despite the brilliance of the aforementioned opening track and the should-be classic, "The Official Ironman Rally Song". The second half, basically beginning with "Your Name is Wild", however, is as good as anything they've ever released, if more traditional. "Ghosts of a Different Dream" is a terrific song in tune and content that wouldn't be out of place alongside the best Post-punk of the '90's. The album shifts into even another gear, however, starting with "Underwater Explosions", a Pollard pop song with class and introspection - both intelligent and unavoidably catchy. "Atom Eyes", "Don't Stop Now" and "Office of Hearts" are just as good as well, the latter beginning with some tasty GBV darkness before bubbling into a chorus that's so good, I can't believe it took until 1995 for it to exist. Then "Drag Days" emerges with, shockingly again, an incredibly display of sensitivity (though for all his affectation, Pollard always could relate to the everyteen - "Game of Pricks" even says as much), and "Redmen and Their Wives" is like a sparse and tasteful ode to Americana. This album deserves to be up there with it's two more famous predecessors, just like "Ghosts of Different Dream" and "Drag Days" deserve comparison with "Echos Myron" and "My Valuable Hunting Knife". This album marks a transition to being a normal band, but there aren't many growing pains here.
PULP - THIS IS HARDCORE
I give this a deservedly high rating before, but I'd be remiss if I didn't add that this was in part due to Jarvis Cocker becoming my idol this summer. Now, I know exactly why this album deserves to be well received, to the extent that, having ordered Different Class which should arrive sooner or later, I'm not sure how it can live up to the Pulp album I already have. What makes This is Hardcore so great is that it manages to be a concept album - overused language or no - without being ostentatious about it. It is meant to be a single work, and succeeds fabulously. "The Fear" establishes the premise, general malaise. This malaise can be brought about by anything - old age, drug abuse, what have you. Thereafter, the album attempts to conquer it, and as I mentioned before, whether it does remains in question, which may or may not be kind of the point. Anyway, in "The Dishes", Jarvis compares his own aging to Jesus' crucifixion and ... wait for this ... then depicts his own rebirth and journey to redemption. "Party Hard", "Help the Aged", "This is Hardcore", and the rest of the songs between this point travel slowly through increasingly effectual attempts at redemption, shifting from attempting to continue hedonism in the near future to remembering and accepting the past, finally emerging from "Glory Days" with the realization that what's done is done. In "The Day After the Revolution", the album finally comes to its resolution, Jarvis clearly stating "the fear is over". Not only is this an album that tells a story, it's a good album that tells a story. It doesn't get with most people on being a redemptive album with a powerful message (unlike, in my opinion, Tommy, which is more or less superficial as I see it), it only gets recognition for being good music. All in all, though, This is Hardcore may be one of the most therapeutic albums ever recorded.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ and now for one of my personal favorites ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
IDLEWILD - 100 BROKEN WINDOWS
This is probably my personal favorite album, for a number of reasons. First of all, it helped me get through fall of freshman year, so it's very near and dear to my heart. In general, however, I think 100 Broken Windows is a legitimately great album, even if basically everyone has either never heard of it or doesn't see it that way. 100 Broken Windows is, first of all, supremely emotive, utilizing both post-hardcore energy and power pop sensitivity. The album quickly shows its potency in opener "Little Discourage", amping it up yet again in "I Don't Have the Map" with its commentary on trust and individualism in its chorus of "you can't cope without the contract". "These Wooden Ideas" and "Roseability" continue this energy, adding their commentary on philosophy in a way that actually makes sense. It's one thing to name drop Gertrude Stein in a song. That's cool, but meaningless in the end. It's another to provide an interpretation of Gertrude Stein into everyday life in song form - the basic idea being that images are meaningless, pairing well with the credo "don't be real, be postmodern" - a statement with a glib sarcasm typical of Idlewild (or perhaps more properly Roddy Woomble) even in their more sedate works. "Idea Track" takes this philosophizing to its maximum, creating an entire aesthetic around interpretations of modernity with it's mathematical and powerful guitars and it's invocation of modern technology with fin de seicle worry, finishing with poetry and a violin chord that brings us back to the very basis of music. "Let Me Sleep (Next to the Mirror)" may be one of the most beautiful and sensitive yet potent songs ever recorded and provides a new hope in the face of the ultra-current wave of sound that preceded it. "Listen to What You've Got" basically starts the album anew, calling for a return to simplicity, saying "you might as well be talking backwards" and "you might as well be talking to yourself". "Actually It's Darkness", perhaps the cleverest song ever written, begins with a deliberately cheesy and derivative riff and builds it into a commentary on 21st Century cynicism and trust, begging the question, if we doubt this, why do we believe that. "Rusty", about whose title I wonder whether it came from producer Bob Weston, math rockers Rodan's lone full-length, or elsewhere, once again calls for a return to simplicity, breaking down the listener for the last time on the album before it finally and once-and-for-all turns to sensitivity. "Mistake Pageant"'s chorus of "you've had bad luck, and I know what it feels like to have bad luck" preaches understanding, while "Quiet Crown", another song that should be an indie classic, inspires nostalgia like no other song, perhaps especially so because my home state of Maine is like the Scotland of America (Scotland presumably being the subject of the song). Finally, the sedate but persistent "Bronze Medal" closes out the album, reminding the listener that no matter how hopeless we are, we always have the little victories.
I've been meaning to do this for awhile, and have now time and inclination to get around to it. In my original review, I called it "good, but not great", giving it the same score as Eric's Trip's Forever Again at a 7/10 (for anyone looking to get into Eric's Trip, I recommend the superior Love Tara), one of the issues being that in comparison to Bee Thousand and Alien Lanes, it was hardly experimental. This may have been correct, but I think Under the Bushes offers more of something for everyone even than their prior two albums, while also, in my opinion, having more awesome songs than more palatable later works like Isolation Drills. First off, this album is almost as experimental as Alien Lanes: to a non-GBV fan, "Man Called Aerodynamics" sounds just as out there as "Ex-Supermodel". Robert Pollard just approaches things so differently, you sort of have to forgive all of his foibles. Admittedly, the first half is weak by Guided by Voices standards (which is to say, admitting the odd piece of crap for a few gems). "Rhine Jive Click" and "Lord of Overstock" are eminently forgettable despite the brilliance of the aforementioned opening track and the should-be classic, "The Official Ironman Rally Song". The second half, basically beginning with "Your Name is Wild", however, is as good as anything they've ever released, if more traditional. "Ghosts of a Different Dream" is a terrific song in tune and content that wouldn't be out of place alongside the best Post-punk of the '90's. The album shifts into even another gear, however, starting with "Underwater Explosions", a Pollard pop song with class and introspection - both intelligent and unavoidably catchy. "Atom Eyes", "Don't Stop Now" and "Office of Hearts" are just as good as well, the latter beginning with some tasty GBV darkness before bubbling into a chorus that's so good, I can't believe it took until 1995 for it to exist. Then "Drag Days" emerges with, shockingly again, an incredibly display of sensitivity (though for all his affectation, Pollard always could relate to the everyteen - "Game of Pricks" even says as much), and "Redmen and Their Wives" is like a sparse and tasteful ode to Americana. This album deserves to be up there with it's two more famous predecessors, just like "Ghosts of Different Dream" and "Drag Days" deserve comparison with "Echos Myron" and "My Valuable Hunting Knife". This album marks a transition to being a normal band, but there aren't many growing pains here.
PULP - THIS IS HARDCORE
I give this a deservedly high rating before, but I'd be remiss if I didn't add that this was in part due to Jarvis Cocker becoming my idol this summer. Now, I know exactly why this album deserves to be well received, to the extent that, having ordered Different Class which should arrive sooner or later, I'm not sure how it can live up to the Pulp album I already have. What makes This is Hardcore so great is that it manages to be a concept album - overused language or no - without being ostentatious about it. It is meant to be a single work, and succeeds fabulously. "The Fear" establishes the premise, general malaise. This malaise can be brought about by anything - old age, drug abuse, what have you. Thereafter, the album attempts to conquer it, and as I mentioned before, whether it does remains in question, which may or may not be kind of the point. Anyway, in "The Dishes", Jarvis compares his own aging to Jesus' crucifixion and ... wait for this ... then depicts his own rebirth and journey to redemption. "Party Hard", "Help the Aged", "This is Hardcore", and the rest of the songs between this point travel slowly through increasingly effectual attempts at redemption, shifting from attempting to continue hedonism in the near future to remembering and accepting the past, finally emerging from "Glory Days" with the realization that what's done is done. In "The Day After the Revolution", the album finally comes to its resolution, Jarvis clearly stating "the fear is over". Not only is this an album that tells a story, it's a good album that tells a story. It doesn't get with most people on being a redemptive album with a powerful message (unlike, in my opinion, Tommy, which is more or less superficial as I see it), it only gets recognition for being good music. All in all, though, This is Hardcore may be one of the most therapeutic albums ever recorded.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ and now for one of my personal favorites ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
IDLEWILD - 100 BROKEN WINDOWS
This is probably my personal favorite album, for a number of reasons. First of all, it helped me get through fall of freshman year, so it's very near and dear to my heart. In general, however, I think 100 Broken Windows is a legitimately great album, even if basically everyone has either never heard of it or doesn't see it that way. 100 Broken Windows is, first of all, supremely emotive, utilizing both post-hardcore energy and power pop sensitivity. The album quickly shows its potency in opener "Little Discourage", amping it up yet again in "I Don't Have the Map" with its commentary on trust and individualism in its chorus of "you can't cope without the contract". "These Wooden Ideas" and "Roseability" continue this energy, adding their commentary on philosophy in a way that actually makes sense. It's one thing to name drop Gertrude Stein in a song. That's cool, but meaningless in the end. It's another to provide an interpretation of Gertrude Stein into everyday life in song form - the basic idea being that images are meaningless, pairing well with the credo "don't be real, be postmodern" - a statement with a glib sarcasm typical of Idlewild (or perhaps more properly Roddy Woomble) even in their more sedate works. "Idea Track" takes this philosophizing to its maximum, creating an entire aesthetic around interpretations of modernity with it's mathematical and powerful guitars and it's invocation of modern technology with fin de seicle worry, finishing with poetry and a violin chord that brings us back to the very basis of music. "Let Me Sleep (Next to the Mirror)" may be one of the most beautiful and sensitive yet potent songs ever recorded and provides a new hope in the face of the ultra-current wave of sound that preceded it. "Listen to What You've Got" basically starts the album anew, calling for a return to simplicity, saying "you might as well be talking backwards" and "you might as well be talking to yourself". "Actually It's Darkness", perhaps the cleverest song ever written, begins with a deliberately cheesy and derivative riff and builds it into a commentary on 21st Century cynicism and trust, begging the question, if we doubt this, why do we believe that. "Rusty", about whose title I wonder whether it came from producer Bob Weston, math rockers Rodan's lone full-length, or elsewhere, once again calls for a return to simplicity, breaking down the listener for the last time on the album before it finally and once-and-for-all turns to sensitivity. "Mistake Pageant"'s chorus of "you've had bad luck, and I know what it feels like to have bad luck" preaches understanding, while "Quiet Crown", another song that should be an indie classic, inspires nostalgia like no other song, perhaps especially so because my home state of Maine is like the Scotland of America (Scotland presumably being the subject of the song). Finally, the sedate but persistent "Bronze Medal" closes out the album, reminding the listener that no matter how hopeless we are, we always have the little victories.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Album Queue for the New School Year
I intend to write some new reviews on Superchunk, Portastatic, and maybe some Pulp, Suede, and/or mystery artist. Furthermore, I'm going to revise some of my ratings and maybe add a review for some of my all time favorites. For the time being, however, I've got my new queue:
1. Be Here Now - Oasis
2. Coming Up - Suede
3. Unfun - Jawbreaker
4. Return of the Frog Queen - Jeremy Enigk
5. Warnings/Promises - Idlewild
6. Mezcal Head - Swervedriver
7. His 'n' Hers - Pulp
8. Dig Out Your Soul - Oasis
9. No P or D - Ms. John Soda
10. Indoor Living - Superchunk
11. Isn't Anything - My Bloody Valentine
12. Going Blank Again - Ride (ironically, I go blank again whenever I try to remember what that album with the clown face and "Leave Them All Behind" on it is called)
13. A Northern Soul - The Verve
14. Earthquake Glue - Guided by Voices15. First Edition - The Fruit Tree Foundation
16. Heaven or Las Vegas - Cocteau Twins
17. Future Perfect - Autolux
18. Four Great Points - June of 44
19. Fantastic Planet - Failure
20. Parklife - Blur
1. Be Here Now - Oasis
2. Coming Up - Suede
3. Unfun - Jawbreaker
4. Return of the Frog Queen - Jeremy Enigk
5. Warnings/Promises - Idlewild
6. Mezcal Head - Swervedriver
7. His 'n' Hers - Pulp
8. Dig Out Your Soul - Oasis
9. No P or D - Ms. John Soda
10. Indoor Living - Superchunk
11. Isn't Anything - My Bloody Valentine
12. Going Blank Again - Ride (ironically, I go blank again whenever I try to remember what that album with the clown face and "Leave Them All Behind" on it is called)
13. A Northern Soul - The Verve
14. Earthquake Glue - Guided by Voices15. First Edition - The Fruit Tree Foundation
16. Heaven or Las Vegas - Cocteau Twins
17. Future Perfect - Autolux
18. Four Great Points - June of 44
19. Fantastic Planet - Failure
20. Parklife - Blur
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Album Reviews - Britpop, Shoegaze, and more
It's been awhile, eh? Anyway, I've got five new albums to review here: Italian punk-rockers Verdena's eponymous debut, [the] Verve's debut A Storm in Heaven, [the London] Suede's Dog Man Star, Slowdive's last album, Pygmalion, and Pulp's This is Hardcore.
VERDENA - VERDENA - 8/10
One challenge in rating this album is that it's not in English. As a result, it's hard to know how meaningful the lyrics really are, regardless of my ability to understand them. That said, they seem at times to be very meaningful, and Alberto Ferrari's songwriting appears to be singularly abstract and disparate, creating a sort of lonely distant effect. Verdena also show a great command of atmosphere: "Valvonauta", probably the best song on the album, begins with a smooth wall of guitars and gradually becomes darker and darker, while "Bambina in Nero" is soft yet powerful. In this sense they somewhat remind me of Teenage Fanclub - at first glance they're just flailing at their guitars, but in fact are very calculated, and instrumental track "Caramel Pop" isn't half bad. Verdena have much more of an edge than Teenage Fanclub, however, and remind me a lot of Sunny Day Real Estate with Ferrari's alternatively smooth and rough vocals and their melodic yet forceful guitar play. Highlights include "Valvonauta", "Dentro Sharon", "Pixel", and "Bambina in Nero".
VERVE - A STORM IN HEAVEN - 8/10
A Storm in Heaven is not The Verve as you probably know them. No hints are dropped that songs like "On Your Own" or "Bittersweet Symphony" are in this band's future. To describe their first album as shoegaze doesn't really do it justice either. First off, Richard Ashcroft's voice is not a shoegaze voice. It lacks the softness of Mark Gardener and Neil Halstead, among others, and the music itself is much clearer. The music is complex, with it's mix of echos and ambient noise, but has a sort of rough quality that makes it sound more psychadelic than, say, My Bloody Valentine. As a result, this is not a very accessible album. It's not as hook-laden as A Northern Soul or Urban Hymns, and also doesn't have the obvious beauty of albums like Nowhere or Souvlaki. That said, it's still an enjoyable album because it's so complex. Hooks come and go, and bursts of energy flame up unexpectedly with reckless abandon. For the most part, I might describe it as Slint or Can meets shoegaze. It's bare, but it's still powerful. Album closer "See You in the Next One (Have a Good Time)" ends A Storm in Heaven with hints of what is to come, with it's softness and clarity. Highlights include "Star Sail", "Slide Away", and "The Sun, The Sea".
SUEDE - DOG MAN STAR - 9.5/10
Comparable A Storm in Heaven in many ways, Dog Man Star is a difficult album to get into for someone who is crazy about debut album Suede, because this is, believe or not, a big change from that LP. What made Suede so great was the way that songs like "Animal Nitrate" and "The Drowners" took rock and made it dark and evil, creating some sort of bizarro rock invented by Charles Baudelaire and the Marquis de Sade. Dog Man Star, meanwhile, makes strides toward earthliness, bringing in more conventional pop stylings. I'll admit, I wasn't crazy about it at first. Opener "Introducing the Band" is their worst track to that point (even factoring in their B-sides, which are fantastic; surprising to those used to bands who just release extra songs not good enough to be on the album as their B-sides), and the imagery Brett uses is just a bit more mundane in songs like "We are the Pigs" and "Daddy's Speeding" - its seems to lack a bit of the energy of Suede's debut and the lyrics are a bit less abstract. The music itself, however, is as fantastic as ever. It's not as gloriously thrashy as on Suede, where "Animal Nitrate" and "Metal Mickey" were seizures of sound, but, after a few listens, the brilliance of songs like "Heroine" and "The Asphalt World" becomes clear. The songs here are lonelier and more sparse than they were on Suede, and contain all the drama with a poppier framework, although not as obviously brilliant at first glance. This is a record that seems initially like a more boring Suede. This is an inaccurate assessment. Dog Man Star intentionally goes in a more pedestrian direction, but pursues the revisionary goals as Suede did. This time, however, Suede go beyond reinventing rock music to reinventing all music. "Heroin" and "New Generation" are, to be sure, a rethinking of rock and pop, but "Still Life" and "The 2 of Us" go beyond this, to rethinking music as a whole, fusing pop, opera, and show music together and imbuing it with the power of Brett's voice and Bernard's arrangements. What results is music of a higher order. It takes dozens of listens to get to the point of recognizing it, but Dog Man Star is a landmark album that imbues takes the depravity of Suede and imbues it with an even greater drama. It's definitely and album that has to grow on you over time, but you'll be constantly discovering new aspects of this album, making it incredibly rewarding. Highlights include "Heroin", "The Wild Ones", and "This Hollywood Life".
SLOWDIVE - PYGMALION - 9.5/10
Pygmalion is a perfect title for this final Slowdive album. I don't know why, really. Or do I? Let me think. Pygmalion carves (and falls in love with) that statue that comes to life, right? Well that statue is this album - it's permanent, it's timeless, it's perfect, it's organic, and despite being chiseled out of the very essence of music, it's alive. Just for a Day was a clear forerunner to Souvlaki: it had the same moving choruses and ambience, but the latter buried the former in Just for a Day while in Souvlaki this ingredients emerged fully formed from their chrysalis. Pygmalion rejects all of this, and also rejects music. The first notes of the album in "Rutti" set the tone: Pygmalion is nothing more, or less, than a perfect fusion of sound. It's powerfully monolithic and sparse, like being lost in Antarctica, or being the first animal to evolve with eyes and a brain. It reflects all of history and all of the future. It honestly is that good. I think it's every bit as good as Spiderland or Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven or any similarly abstract album. It's hard to tell this is even a Slowdive album except for moments, like in "Blue Skied an' Clear", where Halstead's knack for simple, dark, and powerful hooks rises from the depths (and then disappears). Check this album out. It's unheralded but incredible. Highlights include "J's Heaven", "Visions of La" (or LA, but my opinion of Los Angeles as an utterly uninteresting city makes me hope it's La), and "Blue Skied an' Clear".
PULP - THIS IS HARDCORE - 8.5/10
I've gotten really into Pulp recently, sort of branching off of my fondness for Suede. Upon hearing "Help the Aged", I opted to start with This is Hardcore and go back chronologically to His 'n' Hers. So, what of this album? It's very, very solid, with moments of brilliance scattered throughout. Jarvis Cocker displays his wit and humility in songs like "Dishes", "Help the Aged", and "I'm A Man", and the songs on This is Hardcore surge with an energy rising from calmness much like Pulp's previous albums. This is Hardcore is a much heavier, darker affair, however, than Different Class or His 'n' Hers. "The Fear" sets a standard of pessimism that speckles even seemingly bright songs, such as "Help the Aged" where Jarvis asks "We try, try to forget that nothing lasts forever". Even "Glory Days" can't break this tide, and This is Hardcore seems very much to be the swan song of an era, although Pulp would release We Love Life after the turn of the millennium. Highlights include "The Fear", "Help the Aged", "I'm a Man", and "The Day After the Revolution".
VERDENA - VERDENA - 8/10
One challenge in rating this album is that it's not in English. As a result, it's hard to know how meaningful the lyrics really are, regardless of my ability to understand them. That said, they seem at times to be very meaningful, and Alberto Ferrari's songwriting appears to be singularly abstract and disparate, creating a sort of lonely distant effect. Verdena also show a great command of atmosphere: "Valvonauta", probably the best song on the album, begins with a smooth wall of guitars and gradually becomes darker and darker, while "Bambina in Nero" is soft yet powerful. In this sense they somewhat remind me of Teenage Fanclub - at first glance they're just flailing at their guitars, but in fact are very calculated, and instrumental track "Caramel Pop" isn't half bad. Verdena have much more of an edge than Teenage Fanclub, however, and remind me a lot of Sunny Day Real Estate with Ferrari's alternatively smooth and rough vocals and their melodic yet forceful guitar play. Highlights include "Valvonauta", "Dentro Sharon", "Pixel", and "Bambina in Nero".
VERVE - A STORM IN HEAVEN - 8/10
A Storm in Heaven is not The Verve as you probably know them. No hints are dropped that songs like "On Your Own" or "Bittersweet Symphony" are in this band's future. To describe their first album as shoegaze doesn't really do it justice either. First off, Richard Ashcroft's voice is not a shoegaze voice. It lacks the softness of Mark Gardener and Neil Halstead, among others, and the music itself is much clearer. The music is complex, with it's mix of echos and ambient noise, but has a sort of rough quality that makes it sound more psychadelic than, say, My Bloody Valentine. As a result, this is not a very accessible album. It's not as hook-laden as A Northern Soul or Urban Hymns, and also doesn't have the obvious beauty of albums like Nowhere or Souvlaki. That said, it's still an enjoyable album because it's so complex. Hooks come and go, and bursts of energy flame up unexpectedly with reckless abandon. For the most part, I might describe it as Slint or Can meets shoegaze. It's bare, but it's still powerful. Album closer "See You in the Next One (Have a Good Time)" ends A Storm in Heaven with hints of what is to come, with it's softness and clarity. Highlights include "Star Sail", "Slide Away", and "The Sun, The Sea".
SUEDE - DOG MAN STAR - 9.5/10
Comparable A Storm in Heaven in many ways, Dog Man Star is a difficult album to get into for someone who is crazy about debut album Suede, because this is, believe or not, a big change from that LP. What made Suede so great was the way that songs like "Animal Nitrate" and "The Drowners" took rock and made it dark and evil, creating some sort of bizarro rock invented by Charles Baudelaire and the Marquis de Sade. Dog Man Star, meanwhile, makes strides toward earthliness, bringing in more conventional pop stylings. I'll admit, I wasn't crazy about it at first. Opener "Introducing the Band" is their worst track to that point (even factoring in their B-sides, which are fantastic; surprising to those used to bands who just release extra songs not good enough to be on the album as their B-sides), and the imagery Brett uses is just a bit more mundane in songs like "We are the Pigs" and "Daddy's Speeding" - its seems to lack a bit of the energy of Suede's debut and the lyrics are a bit less abstract. The music itself, however, is as fantastic as ever. It's not as gloriously thrashy as on Suede, where "Animal Nitrate" and "Metal Mickey" were seizures of sound, but, after a few listens, the brilliance of songs like "Heroine" and "The Asphalt World" becomes clear. The songs here are lonelier and more sparse than they were on Suede, and contain all the drama with a poppier framework, although not as obviously brilliant at first glance. This is a record that seems initially like a more boring Suede. This is an inaccurate assessment. Dog Man Star intentionally goes in a more pedestrian direction, but pursues the revisionary goals as Suede did. This time, however, Suede go beyond reinventing rock music to reinventing all music. "Heroin" and "New Generation" are, to be sure, a rethinking of rock and pop, but "Still Life" and "The 2 of Us" go beyond this, to rethinking music as a whole, fusing pop, opera, and show music together and imbuing it with the power of Brett's voice and Bernard's arrangements. What results is music of a higher order. It takes dozens of listens to get to the point of recognizing it, but Dog Man Star is a landmark album that imbues takes the depravity of Suede and imbues it with an even greater drama. It's definitely and album that has to grow on you over time, but you'll be constantly discovering new aspects of this album, making it incredibly rewarding. Highlights include "Heroin", "The Wild Ones", and "This Hollywood Life".
SLOWDIVE - PYGMALION - 9.5/10
Pygmalion is a perfect title for this final Slowdive album. I don't know why, really. Or do I? Let me think. Pygmalion carves (and falls in love with) that statue that comes to life, right? Well that statue is this album - it's permanent, it's timeless, it's perfect, it's organic, and despite being chiseled out of the very essence of music, it's alive. Just for a Day was a clear forerunner to Souvlaki: it had the same moving choruses and ambience, but the latter buried the former in Just for a Day while in Souvlaki this ingredients emerged fully formed from their chrysalis. Pygmalion rejects all of this, and also rejects music. The first notes of the album in "Rutti" set the tone: Pygmalion is nothing more, or less, than a perfect fusion of sound. It's powerfully monolithic and sparse, like being lost in Antarctica, or being the first animal to evolve with eyes and a brain. It reflects all of history and all of the future. It honestly is that good. I think it's every bit as good as Spiderland or Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven or any similarly abstract album. It's hard to tell this is even a Slowdive album except for moments, like in "Blue Skied an' Clear", where Halstead's knack for simple, dark, and powerful hooks rises from the depths (and then disappears). Check this album out. It's unheralded but incredible. Highlights include "J's Heaven", "Visions of La" (or LA, but my opinion of Los Angeles as an utterly uninteresting city makes me hope it's La), and "Blue Skied an' Clear".
PULP - THIS IS HARDCORE - 8.5/10
I've gotten really into Pulp recently, sort of branching off of my fondness for Suede. Upon hearing "Help the Aged", I opted to start with This is Hardcore and go back chronologically to His 'n' Hers. So, what of this album? It's very, very solid, with moments of brilliance scattered throughout. Jarvis Cocker displays his wit and humility in songs like "Dishes", "Help the Aged", and "I'm A Man", and the songs on This is Hardcore surge with an energy rising from calmness much like Pulp's previous albums. This is Hardcore is a much heavier, darker affair, however, than Different Class or His 'n' Hers. "The Fear" sets a standard of pessimism that speckles even seemingly bright songs, such as "Help the Aged" where Jarvis asks "We try, try to forget that nothing lasts forever". Even "Glory Days" can't break this tide, and This is Hardcore seems very much to be the swan song of an era, although Pulp would release We Love Life after the turn of the millennium. Highlights include "The Fear", "Help the Aged", "I'm a Man", and "The Day After the Revolution".
Monday, July 2, 2012
Album Queue, July 2012
I have accrued some more of these, and will hopefully get around to reviewing them pretty soon. For right now, here is my updated queue.
1. Be Here Now - Oasis
2. Different Class - Pulp3. On the Mouth - Superchunk
4. I Hope Your Heart is Not Brittle - Portastatic
5. Coming Up - Suede
6. Unfun - Jawbreaker
7. Warnings/Promises - Idlewild
8. Mezcal Head - Swervedriver
4. I Hope Your Heart is Not Brittle - Portastatic
5. Coming Up - Suede
6. Unfun - Jawbreaker
7. Warnings/Promises - Idlewild
8. Mezcal Head - Swervedriver
9. Class Clown Spots a UFO - Guided By Voices10. No P or D - Ms. John Soda
11. Indoor Living - Superchunk
12. Isn't Anything - My Bloody Valentine
13. First Edition - The Fruit Tree Foundation
14. A Northern Soul - The Verve
15. Future Perfect - Autolux
16. Four Great Points - June of 44
11. Indoor Living - Superchunk
12. Isn't Anything - My Bloody Valentine
13. First Edition - The Fruit Tree Foundation
14. A Northern Soul - The Verve
15. Future Perfect - Autolux
16. Four Great Points - June of 44
17. Pod - The Breeder
18. Dig Out Your Soul - Oasis19. Fantastic Planet - Failure
20. The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle - The Sex Pistols
20. The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle - The Sex Pistols
Monday, May 28, 2012
Recent Creative Endeavors
Most recently, I've been really into music, and tunes and things have been pulsing through me, to the extent that I really want to start a band just to get some of this down. Hopefully at some point I'll get the opportunity to do that, though I'm afraid it's all a bit too poppy and derivative for even my own taste.
Also, I've started writing some free verse poetry in this new stanza formation that can be read vertically in addition to horizontally, so I thought it would be fun to post up the horizontally organized bits to see how they read. Here they are:
#1
envelop me
toward the intangible
Things that did not
like those shaking atoms
#2
I once read of the Visigoths
throughout the continent
to have been so carefree.
#3
but how
to think I was
#4
Yours
as though we were the same
worthy of adoration
to cover us in white
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sometimes fragments like these mean something to me, so maybe someone will see this disconnected bits and get something from them. I know I'm curious to see what I myself think in a week or two when I read this page again
Also, I've started writing some free verse poetry in this new stanza formation that can be read vertically in addition to horizontally, so I thought it would be fun to post up the horizontally organized bits to see how they read. Here they are:
#1
envelop me
toward the intangible
Things that did not
like those shaking atoms
#2
I once read of the Visigoths
throughout the continent
to have been so carefree.
#3
but how
to think I was
#4
Yours
as though we were the same
worthy of adoration
to cover us in white
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sometimes fragments like these mean something to me, so maybe someone will see this disconnected bits and get something from them. I know I'm curious to see what I myself think in a week or two when I read this page again
Friday, May 11, 2012
Album Reviews: ("Calling Zero", "Catholic Education", "JJ72", "End on End")
I've finally got some free time with the semester ending, so as promised, here are my reviews.
CALLING ZERO - GO BACK SNOWBALL - 6.5/10
Okay, so I know I made a mistake on the last Pollard album I rated (Under the Bushes, Under the Stars) in giving it a 7/10, when it really deserves 8 or 8.5, and I don't want to do that here. In fact, this might just be a 7/10, and by no means is it a "bad" album. In fact, as I listen while writing this, it's rising in my estimation, but I'll leave it at 6.5: I have to have some sort of standards, and 6.5 isn't too harsh a score, considering Pitchfork gave it a 4.3. Here's what I think about this album. Like any '90's indie fan of any sort (I'm hardly that into the stuff), I salivated at the prospect of Mac McCaughan and Robert Pollard making an album together. I mean, this is the stuff of legends. It still comes out better than Proust and Joyce collaborating on a dinner party, which is the upside, but it could have been so much more incredible, and peaks of this potential are revealed on "It is Divine", "Red Hot Halos", and "Never Forget Where You Get Them", which fuse the happy-go-lucky attitude of Superchunk and a lot of Portastatic stuff with Pollard's intentionally obsoleted diction. They really contain the best of both worlds. Elsewhere, however, I hate to say it, but Mac's really excellent instrumentals are at times not fulfilled by the Bob's lyricism, not because Mac is writing for a too high pitched voice - I've seen interviews where he says he has trouble writing for himself, which would imply that he can write just fine for people who can sing in ways other than falsetto. To me, it just seems like the sometimes funky music isn't in tune with Bob's strictly rock sensibilities. Certainly GBV has put out tracks with incredibly clever instumentation, but its always creating texture through lo-fi textural experimentation rather than with the beat. Mac comes up with some pretty compelling stuff that just doesn't seem to mesh with Bob at times, as in "Climb" or "Go Gold". Enough negative though, because I spent way too long making just one point. This album is certainly enjoyable. It starts a bit weak, but that body of it is really well done, and when then the elements mesh, they end up with something every bit as good as GBV or Superchunk. All in all, there are some gems, listed above, which alone make this album worth checking out.
CATHOLIC EDUCATION - TEENAGE FANCLUB - 8/10
Once again, I'm tempted to go higher, but I'll stick with an 8 here. Catholic Education is Teenage Fanclub's first album, and I've got to say, if they stuck with this aesthetic, I wouldn't have complained. Sure, Bandwagonesque is a classic of monster proportions, and deservedly so, but Catholic Education is nothing to sneeze at. So much is apparent from "Everything Flows", a lost teenager's anthem. The murky sound works to perfection on this song, the higher chords sounding like a lost voice amidst the multitude of lower notes. A comparison of the original version with the solid Idlewild cover should make it apparent: "Everything Flows" is a good song, and would be a classic even if I sang it, but the execution is absolutely untouchable. The jangly songs also get a different identity with the original Fanclub sound - "Pet Rock" is "Don't Need a Drum" with more saccharine, but the two sound totally different, and it totally works on both. There are moments where Catholic Education is the greatest thing ever: as soon as I hit the opening chords on "Too Involved" I'm hooked for the rest of the song. Why only ("only", eh?) an 8 then? Mostly just quantity. This being the only Teenage Fanclub album (besides Thirteen. Kind of, if you try. And maybe The King, but I've only heard that it's not a very good album) to carry this fuzzy and laid back atmosphere, I'm saddened that there was never anything after this. If there was another Catholic Education (like there is on the album, incidentally enough), I'd be in ecstasies over it (and really, I think this might be a Scottish thing. I'm still asking myself why Idlewild never made another Hope is Important or 100 Broken Windows. Anything heavy would have been a godsend after what are already godsends). As it is, though, the existence of two nearly identical versions of "Catholic Education" and two basically unnecessary "Heavy Metal" instrumental tracks (one I could live with. "Is This Music?" from Bandwagonesque is a great track, "Satan", in my opinion, isn't particularly needed) cuts this album to only 7 (8 if you count one of the "Catholic Education"s) real tracks - 7 excellent real tracks, but 7 nonetheless - and that is just too few for this demanding blogger. Nonetheless, this is a must have for anyone with feelings. Check out "Everything Flows", because it is probably one of the best songs ever written. Then check out "Eternal Light" and "Critical Mass", because they too are awesome. This isn't Bandwagonesque/Grand Prix Teenage Fanclub, but it's incredible nonetheless (with probably the best Teenage Fanclub songs, for my money).
JJ72 - JJ72 - 8.5/10
I call this one number two in my should have made more albums list (after The Warm Jets). Yeah, I to Sky was made after this, and from what I've listened to is just as solid, but JJ72 has the talent to have been massive. It's not often that you get the musicianship, poetic lyricism, and vocals of JJ72 in one band - once in fact. I give Mark Greaney props on all three, as well as being too cool for school, because he apparently never wanted to be mainstream (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eFJOpM5-AaI&feature=related). Basically, there is nothing not to like about this band. First off, the vocal talent is undeniable. He sings as high as Mac McCaughan (neither, in itself, a strength nor a weakness), but has a larger range and can sing on pitch, and infuses the music with a passion and energy that's basically unmatched. The instrumentals are also your standard Indie Rock, taking cues from Radiohead and Nirvana - you've got the mix of heavy and soft guitars used to great effect. Finally, the lyrics are undoubtedly fantastic. Take "Long Way South", for instance: "Torrential high seas dragged me to my knees. Bleeding perfumed blood: magic mixed with mud". "Oxygen" and "Algeria" are equally compelling. This album is in its entirety undeniably fantastic. Why not rate it higher, then? I guess there are two reasons. First, the subject matter is just your classic set of love songs. I like it, and I relate to it, but it's relatively standard I guess (I'm being picky here, because this album is flat out fantastic). Compared to the animalistic qualities of Suede or the metaphysical despair of Diary, it seems somewhat flat, which means that JJ72 does not get my pick as greatest album of all time. Oh no! Also, the songs all pretty much reflect the same aesthetic, and can blend together a tad. Really, though, JJ72 is a seriously excellent and underrated album that gets my stamp of approval. Highlights include "Algeria", "Long Way South", and "October Swimmer".
END ON END - RITES OF SPRING - 8/10
There's nothing like Rites of Spring. One feels the loss and alienation in Guy Picciotto's voice as he moans the lyrics over the instrumentals. Even today it's completely out there. The emo acts it inspired don't even try to replicate this level of pain and confusion, because it can't be done without just totally ripping Rites of Spring off. The lyricism should also be pointed out. Aesthetic is all well and good, but you have to say something too, and this is indeed satisfied. There are so many examples I could cite, but the first lines of "Persistent Vision" have been stuck in my head the most: "I was the champion of forgive and forget / But I haven't found a way / To forgive you yet / And though I know you and I are through / All my thoughts are lines converging in on you". The whole album is filled with this sort of heavy, dark, philosophical content, and for those times when you need the most self-loathing and intense music available, this is just the stuff. It just oozes catharsis. Being an album from the '80's (not to stereotype, but here we are), the instrumentals are pretty standard, and you won't find yourself playing air guitar to this album - with the exception being the guitar part in "All Through a Life", which is just amazing - but it is otherwise fantastic. Highlights include "Persistent Vision", "All Through a Life", and "For Want Of".
CALLING ZERO - GO BACK SNOWBALL - 6.5/10
Okay, so I know I made a mistake on the last Pollard album I rated (Under the Bushes, Under the Stars) in giving it a 7/10, when it really deserves 8 or 8.5, and I don't want to do that here. In fact, this might just be a 7/10, and by no means is it a "bad" album. In fact, as I listen while writing this, it's rising in my estimation, but I'll leave it at 6.5: I have to have some sort of standards, and 6.5 isn't too harsh a score, considering Pitchfork gave it a 4.3. Here's what I think about this album. Like any '90's indie fan of any sort (I'm hardly that into the stuff), I salivated at the prospect of Mac McCaughan and Robert Pollard making an album together. I mean, this is the stuff of legends. It still comes out better than Proust and Joyce collaborating on a dinner party, which is the upside, but it could have been so much more incredible, and peaks of this potential are revealed on "It is Divine", "Red Hot Halos", and "Never Forget Where You Get Them", which fuse the happy-go-lucky attitude of Superchunk and a lot of Portastatic stuff with Pollard's intentionally obsoleted diction. They really contain the best of both worlds. Elsewhere, however, I hate to say it, but Mac's really excellent instrumentals are at times not fulfilled by the Bob's lyricism, not because Mac is writing for a too high pitched voice - I've seen interviews where he says he has trouble writing for himself, which would imply that he can write just fine for people who can sing in ways other than falsetto. To me, it just seems like the sometimes funky music isn't in tune with Bob's strictly rock sensibilities. Certainly GBV has put out tracks with incredibly clever instumentation, but its always creating texture through lo-fi textural experimentation rather than with the beat. Mac comes up with some pretty compelling stuff that just doesn't seem to mesh with Bob at times, as in "Climb" or "Go Gold". Enough negative though, because I spent way too long making just one point. This album is certainly enjoyable. It starts a bit weak, but that body of it is really well done, and when then the elements mesh, they end up with something every bit as good as GBV or Superchunk. All in all, there are some gems, listed above, which alone make this album worth checking out.
CATHOLIC EDUCATION - TEENAGE FANCLUB - 8/10
Once again, I'm tempted to go higher, but I'll stick with an 8 here. Catholic Education is Teenage Fanclub's first album, and I've got to say, if they stuck with this aesthetic, I wouldn't have complained. Sure, Bandwagonesque is a classic of monster proportions, and deservedly so, but Catholic Education is nothing to sneeze at. So much is apparent from "Everything Flows", a lost teenager's anthem. The murky sound works to perfection on this song, the higher chords sounding like a lost voice amidst the multitude of lower notes. A comparison of the original version with the solid Idlewild cover should make it apparent: "Everything Flows" is a good song, and would be a classic even if I sang it, but the execution is absolutely untouchable. The jangly songs also get a different identity with the original Fanclub sound - "Pet Rock" is "Don't Need a Drum" with more saccharine, but the two sound totally different, and it totally works on both. There are moments where Catholic Education is the greatest thing ever: as soon as I hit the opening chords on "Too Involved" I'm hooked for the rest of the song. Why only ("only", eh?) an 8 then? Mostly just quantity. This being the only Teenage Fanclub album (besides Thirteen. Kind of, if you try. And maybe The King, but I've only heard that it's not a very good album) to carry this fuzzy and laid back atmosphere, I'm saddened that there was never anything after this. If there was another Catholic Education (like there is on the album, incidentally enough), I'd be in ecstasies over it (and really, I think this might be a Scottish thing. I'm still asking myself why Idlewild never made another Hope is Important or 100 Broken Windows. Anything heavy would have been a godsend after what are already godsends). As it is, though, the existence of two nearly identical versions of "Catholic Education" and two basically unnecessary "Heavy Metal" instrumental tracks (one I could live with. "Is This Music?" from Bandwagonesque is a great track, "Satan", in my opinion, isn't particularly needed) cuts this album to only 7 (8 if you count one of the "Catholic Education"s) real tracks - 7 excellent real tracks, but 7 nonetheless - and that is just too few for this demanding blogger. Nonetheless, this is a must have for anyone with feelings. Check out "Everything Flows", because it is probably one of the best songs ever written. Then check out "Eternal Light" and "Critical Mass", because they too are awesome. This isn't Bandwagonesque/Grand Prix Teenage Fanclub, but it's incredible nonetheless (with probably the best Teenage Fanclub songs, for my money).
JJ72 - JJ72 - 8.5/10
I call this one number two in my should have made more albums list (after The Warm Jets). Yeah, I to Sky was made after this, and from what I've listened to is just as solid, but JJ72 has the talent to have been massive. It's not often that you get the musicianship, poetic lyricism, and vocals of JJ72 in one band - once in fact. I give Mark Greaney props on all three, as well as being too cool for school, because he apparently never wanted to be mainstream (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eFJOpM5-AaI&feature=related). Basically, there is nothing not to like about this band. First off, the vocal talent is undeniable. He sings as high as Mac McCaughan (neither, in itself, a strength nor a weakness), but has a larger range and can sing on pitch, and infuses the music with a passion and energy that's basically unmatched. The instrumentals are also your standard Indie Rock, taking cues from Radiohead and Nirvana - you've got the mix of heavy and soft guitars used to great effect. Finally, the lyrics are undoubtedly fantastic. Take "Long Way South", for instance: "Torrential high seas dragged me to my knees. Bleeding perfumed blood: magic mixed with mud". "Oxygen" and "Algeria" are equally compelling. This album is in its entirety undeniably fantastic. Why not rate it higher, then? I guess there are two reasons. First, the subject matter is just your classic set of love songs. I like it, and I relate to it, but it's relatively standard I guess (I'm being picky here, because this album is flat out fantastic). Compared to the animalistic qualities of Suede or the metaphysical despair of Diary, it seems somewhat flat, which means that JJ72 does not get my pick as greatest album of all time. Oh no! Also, the songs all pretty much reflect the same aesthetic, and can blend together a tad. Really, though, JJ72 is a seriously excellent and underrated album that gets my stamp of approval. Highlights include "Algeria", "Long Way South", and "October Swimmer".
END ON END - RITES OF SPRING - 8/10
There's nothing like Rites of Spring. One feels the loss and alienation in Guy Picciotto's voice as he moans the lyrics over the instrumentals. Even today it's completely out there. The emo acts it inspired don't even try to replicate this level of pain and confusion, because it can't be done without just totally ripping Rites of Spring off. The lyricism should also be pointed out. Aesthetic is all well and good, but you have to say something too, and this is indeed satisfied. There are so many examples I could cite, but the first lines of "Persistent Vision" have been stuck in my head the most: "I was the champion of forgive and forget / But I haven't found a way / To forgive you yet / And though I know you and I are through / All my thoughts are lines converging in on you". The whole album is filled with this sort of heavy, dark, philosophical content, and for those times when you need the most self-loathing and intense music available, this is just the stuff. It just oozes catharsis. Being an album from the '80's (not to stereotype, but here we are), the instrumentals are pretty standard, and you won't find yourself playing air guitar to this album - with the exception being the guitar part in "All Through a Life", which is just amazing - but it is otherwise fantastic. Highlights include "Persistent Vision", "All Through a Life", and "For Want Of".
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Music Queue - May 5th, 2012
I've done some impulse buying with my gift-card (so it was like all free), and my queue therefore has been whittled down a bit, with reviews to come and new things filling in:
1. Verdena - Verdena
2. A Storm in Heaven - The Verve
3. Pygmalion - Slowdive
4. Be Here Now - Oasis
5. Dog Man Star - Suede
6. On the Mouth - Superchunk
7. I Hope Your Heart is Not Brittle - Portastatic
8. Coming Up - Suede
9. Unfun - Jawbreaker
10. Warnings/Promises - Idlewild
11. Mezcal Head - Swervedriver
12. No P or D - Ms. John Soda
13. Indoor Living - Superchunk
14. Isn't Anything - My Bloody Valentine
15. First Edition - The Fruit Tree Foundation
16. A Northern Soul - The Verve
17. Future Perfect - Autolux
18. Four Great Points - June of 44
19. Fantastic Planet - Failure
20. The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle - The Sex Pistols
1. Verdena - Verdena
2. A Storm in Heaven - The Verve
3. Pygmalion - Slowdive
4. Be Here Now - Oasis
5. Dog Man Star - Suede
6. On the Mouth - Superchunk
7. I Hope Your Heart is Not Brittle - Portastatic
8. Coming Up - Suede
9. Unfun - Jawbreaker
10. Warnings/Promises - Idlewild
11. Mezcal Head - Swervedriver
12. No P or D - Ms. John Soda
13. Indoor Living - Superchunk
14. Isn't Anything - My Bloody Valentine
15. First Edition - The Fruit Tree Foundation
16. A Northern Soul - The Verve
17. Future Perfect - Autolux
18. Four Great Points - June of 44
19. Fantastic Planet - Failure
20. The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle - The Sex Pistols
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Perspectives
Tonight I've been thinking a lot about an upcoming paper I have to write for my literature class. It has a very open-ended prompt, but I've decided to write it on outside perspectives in Œdipus Rex, Waiting for Godot, and Wuthering Heights, and how they influence and are affected by the plot and narration of their respective works. It's a pretty abstract thing, at least for me, since I'm used to having very clear comparatives, and this doesn't seem to have one, although I've gotten to a bit of a start in noticing that all of the outside figures (Œdipus, who it will be recalled is from Corinth; the shepherds and other random figures from the past who bear such crucial information; Vladimir and Estragon who find themselves in some nowhere universe; and Lockwood, as well as the various outside figures in the story who inevitably die off) end up returning to some state of innocence in the end, which is a concrete start, I suppose.
In thinking about this subject, I decided to peruse JSTOR for some articles, if any should exist, and thinking myself somewhat familiar with Proust's work and curious to see how this problem should apply to the modern epic he wrote, I searched for "narrative Proust", expecting perhaps something about the discrepancies between Marcel and the narrator, or the participation of the narrator in the plot.
What caught my eye instead, however, was an article by Albert Sonnenfeld entitled Marcel Proust: Antisemite? ( http://www.jstor.org/stable/394885 ). Of course, I do not think him to have been an anti-Semite. His portrayals of Bloch and Swann, even when critical, were entirely separate from their religion, and, though I haven't read the whole article yet (the title certainly raises enough of a question for me to discuss it), raising the point of Charlus' anti-Semitism is hardly an indictment of Proust himself. The observation that the narrator "(unlike Marcel Proust), is untainted by semitic blood" seemed initially to me to be inaccurate, but may be correct after some further thought. Of course, Proust's narrator was also heterosexual, and Proust's real and fictional Dreyfusism cannot be denied (though I suppose one could believe correctly in Dreyfus' innocence without thinking poorly of his Jewish roots.
In sum, I find any idea of Proust's anti-Semitism to be so easily refuted to not be worth discussing, personally. However, I cannot help but recall a set of e-mails I exchanged with a wealthy university donor at the start of the year who wished to organize some event about Proust and Judaism who had been redirected to myself by a friend who knew of my obsession - or more accurately, worship - of the French author. Long story short, nothing ever materialized because I didn't have the proper connections at the university, and also felt a bit disingenuous to the dead man that I respect so much in having limited his work to the scope of "Jewish author", just as I should have felt to classify Kafka as a "Czech author" or Joyce as a "Catholic author". They transcend such superficial boundaries. ...but I have digressed. I would just like to note the irony here. One gentry-scholar sees Proust as the ultimate Jewish author - a supporter of Dreyfus who made Swann his hero; one academician sees him as an anti-Semite, ashamed of his own heritage, so prone to forming "Little Nuclei", as one could put it (or so I imagine Sonnenfeld would put it, as this is the only real way in which Bloch's Judaism becomes anything resembling a negative).
As for me, being a young man whose ancestors emerged from "Hebron vales" myself but who doesn't quite buy into the concept of a Jewish identity superceding any nationalistic identity (I identify first as a Mainer, something I may touch on at some point), I like think that Proust falls within some middle ground.
In thinking about this subject, I decided to peruse JSTOR for some articles, if any should exist, and thinking myself somewhat familiar with Proust's work and curious to see how this problem should apply to the modern epic he wrote, I searched for "narrative Proust", expecting perhaps something about the discrepancies between Marcel and the narrator, or the participation of the narrator in the plot.
What caught my eye instead, however, was an article by Albert Sonnenfeld entitled Marcel Proust: Antisemite? ( http://www.jstor.org/stable/394885 ). Of course, I do not think him to have been an anti-Semite. His portrayals of Bloch and Swann, even when critical, were entirely separate from their religion, and, though I haven't read the whole article yet (the title certainly raises enough of a question for me to discuss it), raising the point of Charlus' anti-Semitism is hardly an indictment of Proust himself. The observation that the narrator "(unlike Marcel Proust), is untainted by semitic blood" seemed initially to me to be inaccurate, but may be correct after some further thought. Of course, Proust's narrator was also heterosexual, and Proust's real and fictional Dreyfusism cannot be denied (though I suppose one could believe correctly in Dreyfus' innocence without thinking poorly of his Jewish roots.
In sum, I find any idea of Proust's anti-Semitism to be so easily refuted to not be worth discussing, personally. However, I cannot help but recall a set of e-mails I exchanged with a wealthy university donor at the start of the year who wished to organize some event about Proust and Judaism who had been redirected to myself by a friend who knew of my obsession - or more accurately, worship - of the French author. Long story short, nothing ever materialized because I didn't have the proper connections at the university, and also felt a bit disingenuous to the dead man that I respect so much in having limited his work to the scope of "Jewish author", just as I should have felt to classify Kafka as a "Czech author" or Joyce as a "Catholic author". They transcend such superficial boundaries. ...but I have digressed. I would just like to note the irony here. One gentry-scholar sees Proust as the ultimate Jewish author - a supporter of Dreyfus who made Swann his hero; one academician sees him as an anti-Semite, ashamed of his own heritage, so prone to forming "Little Nuclei", as one could put it (or so I imagine Sonnenfeld would put it, as this is the only real way in which Bloch's Judaism becomes anything resembling a negative).
As for me, being a young man whose ancestors emerged from "Hebron vales" myself but who doesn't quite buy into the concept of a Jewish identity superceding any nationalistic identity (I identify first as a Mainer, something I may touch on at some point), I like think that Proust falls within some middle ground.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Poetry Thoughts
I've been writing a tad more poetry recently since my Art History class is basically finished, and I've actually also been thinking about getting it published, which I know is quite presumptuous, but I really do think I've stumbled into writing some good poetry. Part of my belief is based in my incredible snobbishness, which has led me to regard all poems regarding or referring to mundane subjects, like baseball, Hollywood, a pet dog, etc. as horribly lacking in some sort of refinement, which I guess I should call maniera, seeing as such judgment is no less silly than the exercises of 17th Century art theorists who said that history paintings were innately superior to genre paintings. In fact, I'm sure William Carlos Williams would have no qualms writing about such silly things, and he probably did, though I choose instead to remember the amazing Elysian Fields metaphors in "Asphodel: That Greeny Flower" instead.
That said, I just can't get behind something like this (http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/243858), all due respect to Mr. Blackburn, the poet thereof:
It's a nice poem, but it makes me feel nothing, and I grant that I misunderstand the meaning of baseball to this country. To me it is nothing, but to apostles of Whitman, I'm sure it's just as valid as the Greek plays and olympics, about which so many great sculptures and, I'm sure, poems were created. I'm sure Joel liked it too, because it is fun, but in the end, to me, it just reeks of commercialism and some sort of nostalgia for "The good ol' days" that were just like ours today.
So what is poetry to me? To me it's supposed to be art, and I do not claim to have achieved such a lofty goal. I do hope, however, that in time I will be able to do so by asking people what they think is most powerful and most permanent (because I think Ancient Rome more permanent than Baseball - the irony is not lost on me, but I disregard it nonetheless).
It would be unfair to take pot shots at the above poem, which I believe I have done courteously since I am not here to criticize it's poetry but only use it as an example of what I perceive to be a misuse of the medium, if I did not post one of my own, so here is one:
That said, I just can't get behind something like this (http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/243858), all due respect to Mr. Blackburn, the poet thereof:
—for Joel—Nice day,
sweet October afternoon
Men walk the sun-shot avenues,
Second, Third, eyes
intent elsewhere
ears communing with transistors in shirt pockets
Bars are full, quiet,
discussion during commercials
only
Pirates lead New York 4-1, top of the 6th, 2
Yankees on base, 1 man out
What a nice day for all this !
Handsome women, even
dreamy jailbait, walk
nearly neglected :
men’s eyes are blank
their thoughts are all in Pittsburgh
Last half of the 9th, the score tied 9-all,
Mazeroski leads off for the Pirates
The 2nd pitch he simply, sweetly
CRACK!
belts it clean over the left-field wall
Blocks of afternoon
acres of afternoon
Pennsylvania Turnpikes of afternoon . One
diamond stretches out in the sun
the 3rd base line
and what men come down
it
The final score, 10-9
Yanquis, come home
It's a nice poem, but it makes me feel nothing, and I grant that I misunderstand the meaning of baseball to this country. To me it is nothing, but to apostles of Whitman, I'm sure it's just as valid as the Greek plays and olympics, about which so many great sculptures and, I'm sure, poems were created. I'm sure Joel liked it too, because it is fun, but in the end, to me, it just reeks of commercialism and some sort of nostalgia for "The good ol' days" that were just like ours today.
So what is poetry to me? To me it's supposed to be art, and I do not claim to have achieved such a lofty goal. I do hope, however, that in time I will be able to do so by asking people what they think is most powerful and most permanent (because I think Ancient Rome more permanent than Baseball - the irony is not lost on me, but I disregard it nonetheless).
It would be unfair to take pot shots at the above poem, which I believe I have done courteously since I am not here to criticize it's poetry but only use it as an example of what I perceive to be a misuse of the medium, if I did not post one of my own, so here is one:
But how to change the stony will of fate
And bring my own to a more happy end?
What pleas can bring those three scions to bend
Their iron rulings, determining my days so late?
Perhaps the words of mighty Jove, so great,
Can change the flowing course of fate and mend
This lonely heart that otherwise will rend
With knowledge it will never have a mate.
I hope that if fate does indeed exist
And is not but a myth devised by man,
It be to me benevolent and just,
And leave not love to lie outside my midst.
If such were true, I'd be more happy than
Those ancient souls that satisfied their lust.
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