It’s easy to get your head around a 1970s or 1980s theme party, but a 1990s theme party is a bit weird. What would you wear? A zipper shirt? Rock the Clooney Caesar? Add some cranberry to your Zima?
Arguably you could go dressed as Adam Duritz. The Counting Crows lead singer was so 1990s I think he actually slept his way through the entire cast of Friends (not sure about Ross). How awesome is that?
Those of us who did some college or at least some growing up in the 1990s have a soft spot for the Sideshow Bob cartoon that is Adam Duritz. We feel this bond mostly because of a tight little record called August and Everything After. That record was a fixture for me in my mini fridge dormitory years. August and Everything After spawned hits like “Mr. Jones” and “Rain King” but what we all really loved were the unreleased gems like “Anna Begins.” That was the real honey. Not to mention Duritz remains one of the better writers in rock & roll.
If you’ve thought about buying Saturday Nights & Sunday Mornings you’re probably trying to recapture the moody rock that sold 7 million copies of their debut disc. You’re probably looking for the next “Anna Begins,” and you’re probably hoping to hear Duritz turn a phrase.
So do they deliver? That’s a tricky question. Duritz sings about a “blanket of starlight” in “Washington Square,” a lyric that could just as easily sum up the Counting Crows sound when they’re at their moody best. With its harmonica and piano twinkle “Washington Square” best delivers the lonely feeling we love about the Counting Crows.
Trouble is for at least half of the new record the Counting Crows seem preoccupied with becoming some sort of dreadlocked version of the Foo Fighters. While not a complete Frankenstein, starting with “1492” much of the front half of Saturday Nights & Sunday Mornings is just too loud, too rock, and too roadhouse. It’s a lot of noise, and a more classic rock sound that leaves you missing the melancholy you expect from the Crows.
This contrast in tone appears to be all by design as the album title Saturday Nights & Sunday Mornings appears to explain the two sides to this latest offering from the Counting Crows. The toothier first 6 songs are for going out, and the last 8 songs put the raindrops back on the evening window.
Of the harder stuff “Hanging Tree” is the best rock & roll single. Guitarist David Bryson takes it up a notch as this one is harder than your standard Counting Crows but maintains the medley we expect from Duritz. If the first single “You Can’t Count on Me” caught your attention, you’ll like this one even better.
“Cowboys” is the fork in the road. It’s a journey that starts on E Street building towards a vintage Counting Crows refrain of “come on! come on!” But a funny thing happens about a minute in. Duritz brings the words, “this is a list of what I should have been but I’m not, this is a list of the things I should have seen but I’m not seeing” —and presto back comes the rainy day twinkle. “Cowboys” turns the corner to Sunday morning and hints of the atmospheric soft rock that worked in the first place.
“Washington Square” is probably the closest thing to a song that could have been on August and Everything After. And lets face it, that’s what we’re all looking for. Lines like “Sold my piano, couldn’t come with me” allow Duritz to paint a picture like only he can. “Washington Square” will put the glow stars back on your dorm room ceiling.
The Sunday Morning side of the record has a few nice ones. “Le Ballet D’Or” is an indulgent Duritz showpiece that sounds like something he would have done if he went solo. It’s a cool little western ballad and sounds a bit like the Young Guns II soundtrack would have if Duritz did it instead of Jon Bon Jovi. There’s more like this here, and the words are there too. Simple lyrics like “time is a number that rests on a wall” make for a much more cinematic back half. Not to mention Duritz repeatedly gives shout outs to both Dublin and Berkeley, which is never wrong.
“When I Dream of Michelangelo” is a big satellite ballad and “Anyone But You” rubs into Snow Patrol. The best offerings from Saturday Nights & Sunday Mornings sound like outtakes from August & Everything After.
I used to fall asleep to August and Everything After. And it’s the Sunday Morning side of the disc that feels more natural for the band.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Red Light Knights Play Followill The Leader
I love the Kings of Leon. I love Caleb Followill’s sick hound vocal. I love the road-trip guitar. I love their Shiner Bock roots rock. I love that they misbehave and seem to relish being rock stars. Alongside the Rockfather Mr. White, the Kings of Leon inhabit my musical Mt. Rushmore. Their last record Because of the Times has been in my Jeep’s 6-disc changer for the balance of the year.
I’ve been accused of having a one-track mind; it’s always been this way. When I collected baseball cards I very quickly worked my way up to over 900 Rickey Henderson cards. When I had a crush on Kim Cattrall in the movie Mannequin I actually went to the public library and looked at articles about her on the microfiche machine. How creepy is that?
With Carlos Gomez fast becoming the new Rickey Henderson for the Twins, and Cattrall on the red carpet as Sex in the City hits the big screen it seemed an apropos time to share my latest discovery as a result of having a one-track mind.
It’s hard to dig too deep into the Kings of Leon. The brothers from Tennessee only have 3 albums, and they don’t toss a lot of scraps to the fan base to keep you interested. Even their website will go through big stretches of inactivity. But a few months ago I did manage to find a thread on a Kings of Leon discussion board about a Followill cousin who also had a band—Red Light Knights.
ALAS! A ROGUE COUSIN! For a major Kings of Leon fan this was huge, huge news.
At the time all I could find was a very shoddy Red Light Knight’s MySpace page with a few tracks and a description of their sound as “slappin dicks on cabinets.” But recently when I looked again the Red Light Knights’ self-titled debut popped up on iTunes. Best I can tell the band (from Bethany, OK) has yet to press a physical album, so much to my chagrin I did the download.
In a nutshell, if you like Kings of Leon you’ll like Red Light Knights. And if you love Kings of Leon (like me), you’ll like Red Light Knights.
Red Light Knights do little to expand the genre. Lead singer Tyson Followill is a dead ringer for first cousin Caleb Followill’s howl. The plodding guitar is there as well courtesy of Bee Jay. But the Red Light Knights lack the melodic appeal of Kings of Leon. Nothing here is stadium ready like say “Ragoo” or “Fans.” A song like “Razor” is eerily reminiscent of “Molly’s Chambers” but the hook won’t get stuck in your mouth.
The closest Red Light Knights get to their own open air single is “3 Way Highway.” This one builds slowly to a nice swirling chorus and would be the song I would play if trying to convince you to give the Red Light Knights a chance. “3 Way Highway” sounds like a Kings of Leon rarity you stole from a movie soundtrack or B-side import single. At their best the Kings of Leon have a healthy does of “the woods” in their sound, and this gem sounds like the song you’d want playing as you pulled a choice girl away from the parking lot keg party to someplace dark. It’s very rock & roll and Tyson Followill works the vocal like the heavy bag grinding through as the track ebbs and flows. Really good stuff here.
While only eight tracks, the Red Light Knights debut has already started to grow on me. “But Maybe for Me” has more get-up and melody than most, and some off the leash guitar work towards the end. I find myself filling in the off “tee oh tee oh” chant vocal on “When the Crazy Attacks” and I can only imagine the more aggressive “Pearl” would kill live. Even the song titles like “Rodeo Clown” and “Show Girl” remind of Kings of Leon, and in the case of “Show Girl,” the familiar groove is there too.
The entire Red Light Knights record will sound great driving around with hair in your eyes and sunflower seeds in your cheek, but it mostly sounds good because it reminds you of Kings of Leon not because of anything Red Light Knights have added.
Unlike the emo and singer-songwriter genres, Kings of Leon’s brand of southern rock is far from a crowded affair. There’s ample room for another band that sounds like them—in the case of the Red Light Knights precisely like them. In a weird way it makes sense that blood runs thick on this distinct sound. For Kings of Leon fans, Red Light Knights will be a genetic match for a cupboard you’re still trying to fill.
I’ve been accused of having a one-track mind; it’s always been this way. When I collected baseball cards I very quickly worked my way up to over 900 Rickey Henderson cards. When I had a crush on Kim Cattrall in the movie Mannequin I actually went to the public library and looked at articles about her on the microfiche machine. How creepy is that?
With Carlos Gomez fast becoming the new Rickey Henderson for the Twins, and Cattrall on the red carpet as Sex in the City hits the big screen it seemed an apropos time to share my latest discovery as a result of having a one-track mind.
It’s hard to dig too deep into the Kings of Leon. The brothers from Tennessee only have 3 albums, and they don’t toss a lot of scraps to the fan base to keep you interested. Even their website will go through big stretches of inactivity. But a few months ago I did manage to find a thread on a Kings of Leon discussion board about a Followill cousin who also had a band—Red Light Knights.
ALAS! A ROGUE COUSIN! For a major Kings of Leon fan this was huge, huge news.
At the time all I could find was a very shoddy Red Light Knight’s MySpace page with a few tracks and a description of their sound as “slappin dicks on cabinets.” But recently when I looked again the Red Light Knights’ self-titled debut popped up on iTunes. Best I can tell the band (from Bethany, OK) has yet to press a physical album, so much to my chagrin I did the download.
In a nutshell, if you like Kings of Leon you’ll like Red Light Knights. And if you love Kings of Leon (like me), you’ll like Red Light Knights.
Red Light Knights do little to expand the genre. Lead singer Tyson Followill is a dead ringer for first cousin Caleb Followill’s howl. The plodding guitar is there as well courtesy of Bee Jay. But the Red Light Knights lack the melodic appeal of Kings of Leon. Nothing here is stadium ready like say “Ragoo” or “Fans.” A song like “Razor” is eerily reminiscent of “Molly’s Chambers” but the hook won’t get stuck in your mouth.
The closest Red Light Knights get to their own open air single is “3 Way Highway.” This one builds slowly to a nice swirling chorus and would be the song I would play if trying to convince you to give the Red Light Knights a chance. “3 Way Highway” sounds like a Kings of Leon rarity you stole from a movie soundtrack or B-side import single. At their best the Kings of Leon have a healthy does of “the woods” in their sound, and this gem sounds like the song you’d want playing as you pulled a choice girl away from the parking lot keg party to someplace dark. It’s very rock & roll and Tyson Followill works the vocal like the heavy bag grinding through as the track ebbs and flows. Really good stuff here.
While only eight tracks, the Red Light Knights debut has already started to grow on me. “But Maybe for Me” has more get-up and melody than most, and some off the leash guitar work towards the end. I find myself filling in the off “tee oh tee oh” chant vocal on “When the Crazy Attacks” and I can only imagine the more aggressive “Pearl” would kill live. Even the song titles like “Rodeo Clown” and “Show Girl” remind of Kings of Leon, and in the case of “Show Girl,” the familiar groove is there too.
The entire Red Light Knights record will sound great driving around with hair in your eyes and sunflower seeds in your cheek, but it mostly sounds good because it reminds you of Kings of Leon not because of anything Red Light Knights have added.
Unlike the emo and singer-songwriter genres, Kings of Leon’s brand of southern rock is far from a crowded affair. There’s ample room for another band that sounds like them—in the case of the Red Light Knights precisely like them. In a weird way it makes sense that blood runs thick on this distinct sound. For Kings of Leon fans, Red Light Knights will be a genetic match for a cupboard you’re still trying to fill.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
All Hail the Rockfather!
There can be only one.
Jack White is the Rockfather. Yes, capital letters are necessary. The Rockfather is the one living person most responsible with moving the genre forward. So go ahead and print the 8x10, hang it in your garage, and salute it every time you walk by because Jack White is the most important living person to rock & roll.
What does that mean? It means you need to pay attention to everything he does including side action like The Raconteurs? Why? Because Jack White with The Raconteurs is like Kobe Bryant playing hoops in Europe—it doesn’t matter what 4 guys you stick with him, they’re always a threat to win the game and you need to watch because something special just might happen.
Consolers of the Lonely starts with the familiar spaghetti western rock that White has been favoring with the Stripes. Track one “Consoler of the Lonely” is like a shootout between Brendan Benson and White. Benson plays the straight Wyatt Earp role, allowing White to stagger in around the one fifteen minute mark slinging his drill bit guitar, manic vocal, as if to say “I’m your Huckleberry” Doc Holiday style. You don’t get to hear many showdown songs and “Consoler of the Lonely” is a great starter as the pace shifts between characters while allowing White to eventually win the draw with a sick solo towards the end.
“Salute Your Solution” starts with a massive riff that would be at home on everything from classic rock to ESPN’s Ultimate Highlight. White keeps speaking in tongues holding his hands in the air as if to say, “I can’t help myself.” “Salute your Solution” sounds like an Icky Thump outtake and is sure to excite Stripes fans as they lean into what is fast becoming the signature guitar sound of this decade.
I don’t mean to short shift Benson. Cleary White spends time with him because he too is a bona fide freak with tremendous vocal range capable of sounding like everyone from Robert Plant to Bono to Freddy Mercury. Benson even puts together a rock piano solo on “You Don’t Understand Me.” But I can’t help but wonder if White is speaking to Benson (and the rest of rock & roll for that matter) when he taunts on “Top Yourself” asking, “How you gonna top yourself when there is nobody else? How you gonna do it by yourself because I’m not going to be here to help you?” It’s as if White is acknowledging The Raconteurs experiment might soon dry up as he has bigger fish to fry. What’s clear on Consolers of the Lonely is the songs that place White front and center are where the good stuff happens.
What’s great about The Racanteurs record is there is so much in here. It’s clear this side project is all about liberation and the result is most tracks contain a little glimmer of something special. It’s things like the steamy Almond-Brother-from-another-Mother guitar riff towards the end of “Old Enough,” the trash talk of “Top Yourself,” the breakneck pace of “Five on the Five,” and the new distortion pedal of “Attention” that make The Raconteurs a must buy every time they kick something out. Said another way it’s perfectly fine to eat stuff out of the trash as long as it’s Jack White’s garbage your digging in.
Overall there aren’t a ton of singles or mix tape worthy songs on Consolers of the Lonely. “Consoler of the Lonely” might be the best track just for its swinging saloon door drama. The standout tracks on Consolers of the Lonely sound like the less memorable songs on Icky Thump (a high bar by the way). But Jack White is to rock & roll right now as Tiger Woods is to golf. Until someone steps up to push him, we can only hope he challenges himself making extracurriculars like The Raconteurs worth purchase just to see where The Rockfather plans to take us next.
Jack White is the Rockfather. Yes, capital letters are necessary. The Rockfather is the one living person most responsible with moving the genre forward. So go ahead and print the 8x10, hang it in your garage, and salute it every time you walk by because Jack White is the most important living person to rock & roll.
What does that mean? It means you need to pay attention to everything he does including side action like The Raconteurs? Why? Because Jack White with The Raconteurs is like Kobe Bryant playing hoops in Europe—it doesn’t matter what 4 guys you stick with him, they’re always a threat to win the game and you need to watch because something special just might happen.
Consolers of the Lonely starts with the familiar spaghetti western rock that White has been favoring with the Stripes. Track one “Consoler of the Lonely” is like a shootout between Brendan Benson and White. Benson plays the straight Wyatt Earp role, allowing White to stagger in around the one fifteen minute mark slinging his drill bit guitar, manic vocal, as if to say “I’m your Huckleberry” Doc Holiday style. You don’t get to hear many showdown songs and “Consoler of the Lonely” is a great starter as the pace shifts between characters while allowing White to eventually win the draw with a sick solo towards the end.
“Salute Your Solution” starts with a massive riff that would be at home on everything from classic rock to ESPN’s Ultimate Highlight. White keeps speaking in tongues holding his hands in the air as if to say, “I can’t help myself.” “Salute your Solution” sounds like an Icky Thump outtake and is sure to excite Stripes fans as they lean into what is fast becoming the signature guitar sound of this decade.
I don’t mean to short shift Benson. Cleary White spends time with him because he too is a bona fide freak with tremendous vocal range capable of sounding like everyone from Robert Plant to Bono to Freddy Mercury. Benson even puts together a rock piano solo on “You Don’t Understand Me.” But I can’t help but wonder if White is speaking to Benson (and the rest of rock & roll for that matter) when he taunts on “Top Yourself” asking, “How you gonna top yourself when there is nobody else? How you gonna do it by yourself because I’m not going to be here to help you?” It’s as if White is acknowledging The Raconteurs experiment might soon dry up as he has bigger fish to fry. What’s clear on Consolers of the Lonely is the songs that place White front and center are where the good stuff happens.
What’s great about The Racanteurs record is there is so much in here. It’s clear this side project is all about liberation and the result is most tracks contain a little glimmer of something special. It’s things like the steamy Almond-Brother-from-another-Mother guitar riff towards the end of “Old Enough,” the trash talk of “Top Yourself,” the breakneck pace of “Five on the Five,” and the new distortion pedal of “Attention” that make The Raconteurs a must buy every time they kick something out. Said another way it’s perfectly fine to eat stuff out of the trash as long as it’s Jack White’s garbage your digging in.
Overall there aren’t a ton of singles or mix tape worthy songs on Consolers of the Lonely. “Consoler of the Lonely” might be the best track just for its swinging saloon door drama. The standout tracks on Consolers of the Lonely sound like the less memorable songs on Icky Thump (a high bar by the way). But Jack White is to rock & roll right now as Tiger Woods is to golf. Until someone steps up to push him, we can only hope he challenges himself making extracurriculars like The Raconteurs worth purchase just to see where The Rockfather plans to take us next.
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