I’m a sucker for bands like Airbourne. About every 18 months I hear or read about some band making music that sounds a lot like AC/DC. These words are not to be taken lightly, so nine times out of ten the combination of “new band” and “sounds like AC/DC” will place me at the cash register holding out a twenty.
I’ve trotted the globe searching for the next AC/DC. First it was The Darkness from England, then The Hellacopters from Sweden—to name a few. While the bands were usually hit or miss it still seems worth it to punch the music passport for any new band capable of winding up the fuzz guitars and making open-road rock for another generation. And occasionally you are rewarded for the journey when you bring back something really special like The White Stripes or Wolfmother.
A recent issue of Rolling Stone magazine referenced AC/DC in a review of Australian rock band Airbourne’s new album Runnin’ Wild. The picture in the magazine showed the boys looking very rock & roll, I think they may have had a bottle of Jack in their hands. The Runnin’ Wild album cover had the rock font going on and the album featured Beavis song titles like “Cheap Wine & Cheaper Women” and “Hellfire.” Now if I could just locate the album. Still an import I was forced to make only my second (and first since week 1) virtual music purchase using iTunes since the start of the blog.
The ominous storm cloud brewing on the opening track “Stand Up for Rock ‘N’ Roll” instantly calls to mind “Thunderstruck.” Lead vocalist Joel O’Keeffe has the perfect scream for Velcro high top, black t-shirt rock. Reminiscent of Brian Johnson for certain, O’Keeffe actually sounds more like a mix of fellow Aussie Jimmy Barnes and Tom Keifer from Cinderella. Airbourne delivers the sort of music Frank the Tank would play as he works on his car in the driveway.
The risk with bands like Airbourne is in some cases the album cover, the song titles; even the lyric choices are just a bit much. It’s almost as if the band is playing dress up. The issue I have with a lot of bands like this (see The Darkness) is they tend to do their rock “with a wink.” There is a hint that it’s not serious. And ladies and gentleman rock & roll is a lot of things, but it’s not a joke.
It’s always tough to judge a band’s intentions and the Web makes authenticity more difficult, but if I sense the band is delivering the goods “with a wink,” I’m out.
Sorry for the speech, now I feel like the protective mother in law asking every suitor, “and what are your intentions?” As a whole Runnin’ Wild does deliver, when O’Keeffe yells “Stand up for Rock “N” Roll!” at the end of the opener he’ll have you runnin’ to the attic for your jean jacket. On a side note how rock & roll is it to write the word “and” as simply “’N’” —any punctuation started by G ‘N’ R has to be good, maybe I should change my name to Joh’N’. More awesome.
At a recent Minnesota Wild hockey game the PA was blasting title track “Runnin’ Wild” to great effect during a stoppage. Probably the closest thing to a single, “Runnin Wild” sounds like a vintage Cinderella track only with more motor.
“Too much, Too Young, Too Fast” is like one long Jagermeister toast to the best Behind the Music episodes ever put together for VH1. It’s an honest this-is-all-wrong acknowledgment and the music is an unapologetic “drink it up while it lasts, tear it up so fill my glass” ride.
“Fat City” tries to recreate “Who Made Who” but never quite gets there despite some handy ax work from David Roads (has to be a fake name right?). “Blackjack” finds O’Keeffe reading the AC/DC dictionary out loud shouting, “kill!” “thrill!” alongside a waterfall riff from Roads that Angus Young could appreciate.
“What’s Eatin’ You” is a top track with a cleaner guitar edge. Lyrics like “one in the hand and two in the bush!” take us towards liftoff as O’Keeffe explains, “What’s eatin’ you is eatin me!” It’s an Obama message of togetherness only O’Keeffe is running for president of Hair Nation.
If you’re looking for the second coming of AC/DC, more often than not you’ll be disappointed. Airbourne is about the same. It smells and tastes like the stuff you love, but struggles to break off the chain. So instead of being the music of your summer, Airbourne will probably end up on ESPN Ultimate Highlight and X Games montages as well as your kids’ video games.
That said the quartet of “Runnin’ Wild,” “Stand Up For Rock ‘N’ Roll,” “Too Much, Too Young, Too Fast” and “What’s Eatin’ You” will sound great at a sports stadium or driveway near you. Overall Runnin’ Wild is a good time, and that can’t be bad no matter their intentions.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Editors Should Have Left Lead Singer on Cutting Room Floor
An End Has A Start by Editors is a tough album to review. On one hand, the chassis of the music is superb. Guitarist Chris Urbanowicz and drummer Ed Lay have put together a tapestry of epic sound. The problem is singer Tom Smith’s Goth-voice makes the end result sound like the Phantom of the Opera, or worse James Lipton from Inside the Actor’s Studio singing on top of an old U2 sound.
Is there something here, sure there is. The first three tracks “Smokers Outside the Hospital,” “An End Has a Start,” and notably “The Weight of the World” get the record off to a hot start. The disappointment comes because Editors are a nice band despite the lead singer not because of the lead singer. If you put a different front man on this much sound you would turn an indie into an outie real quick. Said another way: with a different singer, a lot more people would already be familiar with Editors.
With Smith in place the glass ceiling for Editors are key tracks like “The Weight of the World” and “The Racing Rats.” At their best Editors have a nice rock vibe that can rub against everything from The Killers to Simple Minds “Don’t You Forget About Me.” And I suppose that’s the highest compliment I can give to Editors. A song like “The Weight of the World” has a non-chalant sense of drama to it. “The Weight of the World” takes its time getting there, and the result is as cool as John Bender in the backseat of the bus and easily the highlight of the record.
The trouble I have with vocalists like Smith (see Paul Banks from Interpol as well) is they seem to be trying way too hard to sing in a voice that’s not their natural pitch. It’s all just too self aware for me. The result is the music ends up having a Frankenstein effect to it. It’s still a good sound, but you know the whole time you’re listening to it that it could have been great. And that’s a real shame.
Tom Smith does provide rhythm guitar, and nice lyrics like “in the end all you can hope for is the love you felt to equal the pain you’ve gone through” on tracks like “Bones.” Smith is clearly capable of taking the band to a certain altitude as Editors have already experienced commercial and critical acclaim. A song like “The Racing Rats” feels natural for the band and is good up-tempo indie rock in the spirit of “Monster” by The Automatic. But to hear the wind chime of the guitar and the pulse of the drums it just seems like Editors have another gear, and one they won’t likely see with Smith at the helm.
The problem I have with the Goth-voice Smith seems to favor is it puts a turtle neck on your rock & roll band. It clowns out the music to a certain degree. Can it work sometimes in a quirky way, sure Brandon Flowers managed to convert the turtleneck into a bolo tie pulling it off with a wink on Sam’s Town. In many ways I think Smith is probably enamored by The Killers. The fact that both Editors and Killers had a track titled “Bones,” and The Killers record came out a year earlier makes me think this fixation may have become a distraction. Smith’s vocal will be a governor for Editors moving forward not allowing them to reach top speed as a band.
There’s good stuff on An End Has a Start, specifically “The Weight of the World” is a true original. The music is high art, but with Smith at the microphone it’s hard for me to listen to because I feel like someone just added a cleft palette to the Mona Lisa. The music is rich and familiar, but the vocal is surprisingly out of place.
Is there something here, sure there is. The first three tracks “Smokers Outside the Hospital,” “An End Has a Start,” and notably “The Weight of the World” get the record off to a hot start. The disappointment comes because Editors are a nice band despite the lead singer not because of the lead singer. If you put a different front man on this much sound you would turn an indie into an outie real quick. Said another way: with a different singer, a lot more people would already be familiar with Editors.
With Smith in place the glass ceiling for Editors are key tracks like “The Weight of the World” and “The Racing Rats.” At their best Editors have a nice rock vibe that can rub against everything from The Killers to Simple Minds “Don’t You Forget About Me.” And I suppose that’s the highest compliment I can give to Editors. A song like “The Weight of the World” has a non-chalant sense of drama to it. “The Weight of the World” takes its time getting there, and the result is as cool as John Bender in the backseat of the bus and easily the highlight of the record.
The trouble I have with vocalists like Smith (see Paul Banks from Interpol as well) is they seem to be trying way too hard to sing in a voice that’s not their natural pitch. It’s all just too self aware for me. The result is the music ends up having a Frankenstein effect to it. It’s still a good sound, but you know the whole time you’re listening to it that it could have been great. And that’s a real shame.
Tom Smith does provide rhythm guitar, and nice lyrics like “in the end all you can hope for is the love you felt to equal the pain you’ve gone through” on tracks like “Bones.” Smith is clearly capable of taking the band to a certain altitude as Editors have already experienced commercial and critical acclaim. A song like “The Racing Rats” feels natural for the band and is good up-tempo indie rock in the spirit of “Monster” by The Automatic. But to hear the wind chime of the guitar and the pulse of the drums it just seems like Editors have another gear, and one they won’t likely see with Smith at the helm.
The problem I have with the Goth-voice Smith seems to favor is it puts a turtle neck on your rock & roll band. It clowns out the music to a certain degree. Can it work sometimes in a quirky way, sure Brandon Flowers managed to convert the turtleneck into a bolo tie pulling it off with a wink on Sam’s Town. In many ways I think Smith is probably enamored by The Killers. The fact that both Editors and Killers had a track titled “Bones,” and The Killers record came out a year earlier makes me think this fixation may have become a distraction. Smith’s vocal will be a governor for Editors moving forward not allowing them to reach top speed as a band.
There’s good stuff on An End Has a Start, specifically “The Weight of the World” is a true original. The music is high art, but with Smith at the microphone it’s hard for me to listen to because I feel like someone just added a cleft palette to the Mona Lisa. The music is rich and familiar, but the vocal is surprisingly out of place.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Music for TV Dramas and Men Who Use Product
Matt Nathanson has been banging around for a while. Tastemakers Aware Records had him pegged to be a star a couple times over. Well, Nathanson finally put it all together on his latest record Some Mad Hope.
If you like Dave Matthews, the Fray, Goo Goo Dolls, Matt Kearney, Train and the like—odds are you’ll dig Matt Nathanson. To quote one of his own lyrics, Nathanson’s specialty is “cheap radio songs.” His pedicure pop would have fit perfectly playing in the background of the prom episode of Grey’s Anatomy. The music has a touch of cheese, but it feels good. Some Mad Hope would sound great next to slow motion montages shot in the rain, or as the credits roll when you stand up to leave the theater. And I love that type of music.
Almost every track on Some Mad Hope is radio friendly. The opener “Car Crash” gets us started with Nathanson’s cotton vocal and a nice wavy guitar pulling it forward. “Come on Get Higher” is the signature song on the record. Nathanson takes a Dave Matthews (“Crash”) riff and replaces some of the melancholy with hope. It’s a killer track. Like a great single, “Come on Get Higher” will sound familiar the first time you hear it. Not only does Nathanson have the vocal of a platinum recording artist in the making, he even shows some lyrical prowess with simple prose like “I taste the sparks on your tongue.”
The hits just keep coming on Some Mad Hope. “Heartbreak World” and “Gone” are ballads an Enchanted soundtrack away from making it into your living room. To listen to Some Mad Hope just makes you shake your head as to why this kid hasn’t been properly discovered. The music has monster crossover appeal and Nathanson’s lyric is head and shoulders above the screamo voice presently dominating the marketplace. “All We Are” finishes the album on an epic note, and will get the neck hairs up one more time.
“Wedding Dress” is one of those songs the first time you hear it will make you cringe a bit. It’s more on the Goo Goo Dolls side of the spectrum. We’ve gone from using hair product to maybe frosting your hair as Nathanson sings “in your wedding dress to have and to hold.” It’s all a bit too Hallmark, but the pop is irresistible. Before you know it you’ll be singing along to this one too. Bad wedding Powerpoints are being scored to this one as we speak.
Make no mistake Matt Nathanson is nothing new. He makes “cheap radio songs,” but sometimes that’s all you need. Sometimes that hits the spot. Sometimes that even stands up and separates from the crowd (see Hootie and the Blowfish 1994). The closest Nathanson gets to showing his original side is the stripped down ballad “Bulletproof Weeks.” Leaning on his voice and great lyrics, “Bulletproof Weeks” is an unplugged gem. On “Sooner Surrender” he attempts to shake Jeff Buckley from the grave and comes close. Clearly Nathanson is a vocal talent waiting to be discovered.
There is the rare on Some Mad Hope like the overly up-tempo “To the Beat of Our Noisy Hearts, “ but as a whole it’s a superb record. On “Bulletproof Weeks” Nathanson asks the question, “what happened to feeling cheap radio songs?” Hearing Some Mad Hope makes me beg the same question. Pick this one up; it will sound great as you put together the slow motion sequences of your own life.
If you like Dave Matthews, the Fray, Goo Goo Dolls, Matt Kearney, Train and the like—odds are you’ll dig Matt Nathanson. To quote one of his own lyrics, Nathanson’s specialty is “cheap radio songs.” His pedicure pop would have fit perfectly playing in the background of the prom episode of Grey’s Anatomy. The music has a touch of cheese, but it feels good. Some Mad Hope would sound great next to slow motion montages shot in the rain, or as the credits roll when you stand up to leave the theater. And I love that type of music.
Almost every track on Some Mad Hope is radio friendly. The opener “Car Crash” gets us started with Nathanson’s cotton vocal and a nice wavy guitar pulling it forward. “Come on Get Higher” is the signature song on the record. Nathanson takes a Dave Matthews (“Crash”) riff and replaces some of the melancholy with hope. It’s a killer track. Like a great single, “Come on Get Higher” will sound familiar the first time you hear it. Not only does Nathanson have the vocal of a platinum recording artist in the making, he even shows some lyrical prowess with simple prose like “I taste the sparks on your tongue.”
The hits just keep coming on Some Mad Hope. “Heartbreak World” and “Gone” are ballads an Enchanted soundtrack away from making it into your living room. To listen to Some Mad Hope just makes you shake your head as to why this kid hasn’t been properly discovered. The music has monster crossover appeal and Nathanson’s lyric is head and shoulders above the screamo voice presently dominating the marketplace. “All We Are” finishes the album on an epic note, and will get the neck hairs up one more time.
“Wedding Dress” is one of those songs the first time you hear it will make you cringe a bit. It’s more on the Goo Goo Dolls side of the spectrum. We’ve gone from using hair product to maybe frosting your hair as Nathanson sings “in your wedding dress to have and to hold.” It’s all a bit too Hallmark, but the pop is irresistible. Before you know it you’ll be singing along to this one too. Bad wedding Powerpoints are being scored to this one as we speak.
Make no mistake Matt Nathanson is nothing new. He makes “cheap radio songs,” but sometimes that’s all you need. Sometimes that hits the spot. Sometimes that even stands up and separates from the crowd (see Hootie and the Blowfish 1994). The closest Nathanson gets to showing his original side is the stripped down ballad “Bulletproof Weeks.” Leaning on his voice and great lyrics, “Bulletproof Weeks” is an unplugged gem. On “Sooner Surrender” he attempts to shake Jeff Buckley from the grave and comes close. Clearly Nathanson is a vocal talent waiting to be discovered.
There is the rare on Some Mad Hope like the overly up-tempo “To the Beat of Our Noisy Hearts, “ but as a whole it’s a superb record. On “Bulletproof Weeks” Nathanson asks the question, “what happened to feeling cheap radio songs?” Hearing Some Mad Hope makes me beg the same question. Pick this one up; it will sound great as you put together the slow motion sequences of your own life.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Yo tengo catorce anos. Juanes es bien. Adios.
While working in Europe, my family and I spent a few days in Barcelona on Las Ramblas. I remember even in a tourist trap like Las Ramblas just how spacious and laid back the overall vibe was. I also remember opening the hotel windows and playing an Alejandro Sanz CD on the hotel CD player. It sounded perfect.
While in Europe I had projects in both the Netherlands and Spain. In the Netherlands they speak Flemish, a language about as attractive as a farmer’s blow. Flemish sounds like one long series of people trying to hack the snot out of their chests. It’s likely the contrast between the two languages solidified my love of Spanish.
I’ve always had a thing for Spanish language, especially when it comes to music. Spanish just sounds better as it rolls off the tongue. When Spanish is sung, the letters are rounded off. There’s a reason they call it a romance language. Throughout middle school, high school, and college I managed to log about 14 years of intermediate Spanish. This allowed me to master important basics like, “Yo tengo catorce anos ( I am 14 years old).” As well as personal favorite “tu chupas (you suck, or more precisely, and way better, you are sucking).” Even my karaoke song is Spanish. Throughout the years, I’ve brutalized “La Bamba” a variety of ways but always get bonus points for the bi-lingual effort.
I’ve remained intrigued by Spanish language. One day I’ll get my act together and pick up one of those audio book series and learn “la lengua” in my Jeep on the long commute from White Bear. Specific to popular music I’ve always been intrigued by the Spanish “sensation” of the moment. There always seems to be some massive Spanish language performer you hear about who sells billions of records and is rumored to have played concerts to hundreds of thousands. The latest hype is around Juanes. His album La Vida . . .Es Un Ratico showed up on a lot of year-end lists. Juanes even presented at the Grammys looking like Colin Farrell’s bizarre Spanish brother.
The challenge with reviewing a Spanish language album is setting aside the lyrics. While I may know “fuerte” is strong, “amor” is love and “corazon” is “heart” I’m unable to grasp the overall story.
So I’m left to review how the music feels. If music is the universal language there will always be songs that just crossover based on how they grab you. I’ve had this happen before. I used to run the Thames in London listening to David Bisbal’s “Ave Maria” and it doesn’t get any more solid than Alejandro Sanz’s “No Es Lo Mismo.”
The cross over song here is clearly “Hoy Me Voy” as Juanes pours out his heart, and takes us on a bilingual magic carpet ride. I played this one in the Jeep for my nine-year-old daughter the other day, and she loved it. Even without the benefit of story, Juanes gets his twinkle on, bangs the drums, and mixes Santana with Pop Rocks. Awesome. This one will kill at the margarita party.
That’s what I love about the power of music to cut through. Songs like “Hoy Me Voy” are closer to a classical song. The music just feels right. Everything is in the right place. You know what you want to happen next, and then it does.
Another song sure to find a spot in your corazon is the upbeat opener “No Creo En El Jamas” featuring a tidal wave of a chorus even Celine would envy. That’s how to start a record.
Spanish music has a way of getting cheesy in a hurry with the Casio keyboard effects and the drum machines, but Juanes goes to great lengths to avoid this focusing on musicianship and some nice ax work on guitar. It’s clear Juanes wants to be taken seriously. There is a craft to La Vida. . .Es Un Ratico as songs like “Me Enamora” feature significant guitar chop. Juanes clearly has some jam, and the guitar riffs have an Eddie Money/Journey like nostalgia to them. The record has a real live sound to it.
There are more catchy choruses and some nice ballads here as well, but the grab you by the short hair on the back of the head despite the language barrier is clearly “Hoy Me Voy.”
Do I suggest you buy Juanes latest CD? Maybe not, as it’s a lot of work to sort music without benefit of the words. But if you’re a true music fan I absolutely suggest picking up a single or two from a different country and just letting the music punch your passport. It’s no different than trying ethnic foods or watching a foreign film. For starters, “Hoy Me Voy” won’t disappoint.
While in Europe I had projects in both the Netherlands and Spain. In the Netherlands they speak Flemish, a language about as attractive as a farmer’s blow. Flemish sounds like one long series of people trying to hack the snot out of their chests. It’s likely the contrast between the two languages solidified my love of Spanish.
I’ve always had a thing for Spanish language, especially when it comes to music. Spanish just sounds better as it rolls off the tongue. When Spanish is sung, the letters are rounded off. There’s a reason they call it a romance language. Throughout middle school, high school, and college I managed to log about 14 years of intermediate Spanish. This allowed me to master important basics like, “Yo tengo catorce anos ( I am 14 years old).” As well as personal favorite “tu chupas (you suck, or more precisely, and way better, you are sucking).” Even my karaoke song is Spanish. Throughout the years, I’ve brutalized “La Bamba” a variety of ways but always get bonus points for the bi-lingual effort.
I’ve remained intrigued by Spanish language. One day I’ll get my act together and pick up one of those audio book series and learn “la lengua” in my Jeep on the long commute from White Bear. Specific to popular music I’ve always been intrigued by the Spanish “sensation” of the moment. There always seems to be some massive Spanish language performer you hear about who sells billions of records and is rumored to have played concerts to hundreds of thousands. The latest hype is around Juanes. His album La Vida . . .Es Un Ratico showed up on a lot of year-end lists. Juanes even presented at the Grammys looking like Colin Farrell’s bizarre Spanish brother.
The challenge with reviewing a Spanish language album is setting aside the lyrics. While I may know “fuerte” is strong, “amor” is love and “corazon” is “heart” I’m unable to grasp the overall story.
So I’m left to review how the music feels. If music is the universal language there will always be songs that just crossover based on how they grab you. I’ve had this happen before. I used to run the Thames in London listening to David Bisbal’s “Ave Maria” and it doesn’t get any more solid than Alejandro Sanz’s “No Es Lo Mismo.”
The cross over song here is clearly “Hoy Me Voy” as Juanes pours out his heart, and takes us on a bilingual magic carpet ride. I played this one in the Jeep for my nine-year-old daughter the other day, and she loved it. Even without the benefit of story, Juanes gets his twinkle on, bangs the drums, and mixes Santana with Pop Rocks. Awesome. This one will kill at the margarita party.
That’s what I love about the power of music to cut through. Songs like “Hoy Me Voy” are closer to a classical song. The music just feels right. Everything is in the right place. You know what you want to happen next, and then it does.
Another song sure to find a spot in your corazon is the upbeat opener “No Creo En El Jamas” featuring a tidal wave of a chorus even Celine would envy. That’s how to start a record.
Spanish music has a way of getting cheesy in a hurry with the Casio keyboard effects and the drum machines, but Juanes goes to great lengths to avoid this focusing on musicianship and some nice ax work on guitar. It’s clear Juanes wants to be taken seriously. There is a craft to La Vida. . .Es Un Ratico as songs like “Me Enamora” feature significant guitar chop. Juanes clearly has some jam, and the guitar riffs have an Eddie Money/Journey like nostalgia to them. The record has a real live sound to it.
There are more catchy choruses and some nice ballads here as well, but the grab you by the short hair on the back of the head despite the language barrier is clearly “Hoy Me Voy.”
Do I suggest you buy Juanes latest CD? Maybe not, as it’s a lot of work to sort music without benefit of the words. But if you’re a true music fan I absolutely suggest picking up a single or two from a different country and just letting the music punch your passport. It’s no different than trying ethnic foods or watching a foreign film. For starters, “Hoy Me Voy” won’t disappoint.
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