It took me four stores to finally find Bruce Springsteen’s new one, Magic, in stock last week. When I brought it up to the counter, the woman working the register at the downtown Borders looked at the CD and marveled, “Ahh, the new Springsteen.” I felt like I was buying a cabernet.
Springsteen records tend to be a lot like a cabernet. Full bodied, complex, hints of oak (OK that’s a stretch). The problem with Magic is it goes down a lot more like a Michelob Golden Light. It’s still good but not much to taste. I’ve listened to the entire CD dozens of times and all too often I’ve forgotten it’s even playing in my car. The thoughts in my own head are drowning out the music, and that’s usually not the case with a Springsteen disc. Magic does nothing to command your attention. There are precious few songs from Magic that will stay on the E Street set list for years to come.
Make no mistake I’m a Springsteen apologist. I’ve traveled to see him play live in New Jersey. I’ve sent my in-laws to see him. And his 2002 9/11 inspired album The Rising is the only record to ever make me actually cry (the song was “You’re Missing” to be specific – check it out-crazy powerful). But it’s never a good sign when the first single is the best song on the album, and that’s precisely what “Radio Nowhere’’ is. “Radio Nowhere” is such a promising start to an album. It’s a put the top down sort of song that stretches across your hood just the same way “Thunder Road” did years ago.
But from there it’s pretty much downhill. The second track “You’ll be Coming Down” starts out in classic Bruce fashion. You’re waiting for him to yell “hep!” to start the march. It sounds like “I’m Going Down” from Born in the USA remixed for his more synth flavored Tunnel of Love record. But at best “You’ll be Coming Down” is very average background Bruce filler.
After song two we really go into the desert for a bit. “Livin’ in the Future” will sound nice with a dozen people in their 60s dancing around on stage at Springsteen’s live shows, but it feels old to listen to on CD. Sounds like the sort of thing a guy with “Sparky” for his pet name would listen to. But perhaps at 33 my body is still rejecting the saxophone.
The real low point of the record is “Girls in their Summer Clothes” which has the Boss doing a husky Thurston Howell III voice as he watches all the girls pass by undeterred in their summer dresses. Hearing a master like Springsteen this far off his game and not using his natural voice leaves no wonder why the girls aren’t bothering to stop.
Springsteen makes a modest recovery on “I’ll Work for Your Love,” one of the few songs that will stand the test of time on Magic. The second the Boss blurts out “Pour me a drink Theresa in one of those glasses you dust off” the beer is suddenly a darker color. “I’ll Work for Your Love” is just the sort of tough, honest songwriting that has made Bruce a legend. Another gem to add to your collection.
The back half of Magic is also relatively uninteresting with the exception of hidden/bonus track “Terry’s Song (not on iTunes)” where Bruce laments the loss of his one of a kind brother. Very good stuff here with great lyrics like “.Gone into that dark ether where you're still young and hard and cold.”
In between there are clearly some anti-war messages (“Devil’s Arcade,” “Last to Die”), stories, and ideas. Trouble is the music doesn’t have broad enough shoulders to carry the ideas into the world. It feels like a record Bruce rushed together because he wanted to get back on the road. I just hope Magic isn’t too big a part of the live show this Fall because he won’t get much audience involvement unless he seriously reworks the material. Bruce is too good, and has far too many songs in his head for this to be the start of Michael Jordan wearing a Wizards jersey –but Magic is clearly not his best effort.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
You Had Me At Foo Fighters . . .
It must be tough to be Dave Grohl. Can you imagine growing up in a band like Nirvana, only to have the roller coaster fly off the tracks right at the top when it’s still all clicking noises and anticipation? While Foo Fighters have had modest success, to the outsider looking in they appear to still be a band seeking an identity.
Proof of this was their indulgent 2005 double disc In Your Honor, which featured, according to iTunes, one side of “bone-crunching rock” and another of “succulent acoustic.” Strange bedfellows wouldn’t you say? Personally I don’t mix my bourbon with Sierra Mist.
The Foo Fighters new one Echoes Silence Patience & Grace remains schizophrenic in that some songs sound like The Beatles namely “Statues” while others sound like Jack Johnson including the pretty but weepy acoustic instrumental “Ballad of the Beaconsfield Miners.” But the best stuff on the album sounds like (gasp) the Foo Fighters. That’s the issue I have with the Foo Fighters. I don’t understand the identity crisis when I can truly say there is such a thing as “vintage Foo Fighters.” And while the band may not reach the heights of single “Everlong,” they do have several great songs on the disc including “Erase / Replace,” “Long Road to Ruin,” “Cheer Up Boys (Your Makeup Is Running),” and “But Honestly.”
It’s interesting to remember that Dave Grohl was the drummer in Nirvana. This may be the ultimate compliment to current Foo Fighters drummer, Taylor Hawkins, who is the chassis of the band. The peak of the new album is the killer track “Erase / Replace.” It’s the sort of song you would turn on just as the skaters hit the ice for their pre-game warm-ups. It’s vintage Foo Fighters with the circular guitar alongside pulsing drums that carries us home. Taylor Hawkins is like an animal on this one taking us round and round specifically when Grohl breaks out his “Oh no don’t talk about it, No please don’t talk about it” pleas throughout the vocal. Be sure to check out “Erase / Replace” if your workout has hit a rut because from the first line “Attention. Pay Attention” it will have you doing just that. And it could be even better as a single if they give it a bit of a staccato remix to lean on Hawkins and keep up the pace a bit.
While I commend the Foo Fighters for continuing to explore new sounds and define their turf, there’s a part of me that really wants to see them just put together a rock solid Foo Fighters album. If it sounds anything like “Erase / Replace,” I think it would be a welcome relief in a world where Hannah Montana is the hottest concert of the year.
The intro to the first single “The Pretender” borrows from “Stairway to Heaven,” but overall sounds like a single and is nothing much new. “Let it Die” has glimpses of greatness but can’t overcome lyrical apathy second to only, maybe “Tequila.” Grohl seems to have some limitations in that he’ll often resort to screaming or just saying the same few words over and over and over again. The result can sound like a rock & roll brain freeze. See “Let it Die” and “But Honestly” for proof.
“Long Road to Ruin” has a little country flare mixed in and should be welcomed by the Southern rock set or at least by people who like Kid Rock more now that he’s trying to be Hank Williams. I specifically like the mid-song acoustic breakdown (the 2:15 minute mark); it’s all very Nickelback. Yes, that’s a compliment. I think. Hold up your lighters gents.
“But, Honestly” should be noted because it’s proof that bone crunching and acoustic can fit together in a right sized cocktail glass. It works here because the song builds throughout and Hawkins plays a prominent role. “Cheer Up Boys (Your Makeup Is Running)” has a fantastic guitar intro and should receive bonus points because I assume it’s a shot at the emo set.
All in all I’m a fan of the Foo Fighters. I just wish they would embrace being the Foo Fighters. Otherwise they’ll just be a recycling bin band (Audioslave, Velvet Revolver) with something missing. On Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace the band spends too much time playing ‘70s style AM radio soft rock. There’s too much WKRP, sad piano, too much emphasis on showing their range. It’s as if they’re saying, look we can make music like this and that. When all I want to hear is the Foo Fighters. Luckily, the boys did save a little time to put together at least 4 or 5 vintage Foo Fighters tracks. And by my math that’s worth the price of the album.
Proof of this was their indulgent 2005 double disc In Your Honor, which featured, according to iTunes, one side of “bone-crunching rock” and another of “succulent acoustic.” Strange bedfellows wouldn’t you say? Personally I don’t mix my bourbon with Sierra Mist.
The Foo Fighters new one Echoes Silence Patience & Grace remains schizophrenic in that some songs sound like The Beatles namely “Statues” while others sound like Jack Johnson including the pretty but weepy acoustic instrumental “Ballad of the Beaconsfield Miners.” But the best stuff on the album sounds like (gasp) the Foo Fighters. That’s the issue I have with the Foo Fighters. I don’t understand the identity crisis when I can truly say there is such a thing as “vintage Foo Fighters.” And while the band may not reach the heights of single “Everlong,” they do have several great songs on the disc including “Erase / Replace,” “Long Road to Ruin,” “Cheer Up Boys (Your Makeup Is Running),” and “But Honestly.”
It’s interesting to remember that Dave Grohl was the drummer in Nirvana. This may be the ultimate compliment to current Foo Fighters drummer, Taylor Hawkins, who is the chassis of the band. The peak of the new album is the killer track “Erase / Replace.” It’s the sort of song you would turn on just as the skaters hit the ice for their pre-game warm-ups. It’s vintage Foo Fighters with the circular guitar alongside pulsing drums that carries us home. Taylor Hawkins is like an animal on this one taking us round and round specifically when Grohl breaks out his “Oh no don’t talk about it, No please don’t talk about it” pleas throughout the vocal. Be sure to check out “Erase / Replace” if your workout has hit a rut because from the first line “Attention. Pay Attention” it will have you doing just that. And it could be even better as a single if they give it a bit of a staccato remix to lean on Hawkins and keep up the pace a bit.
While I commend the Foo Fighters for continuing to explore new sounds and define their turf, there’s a part of me that really wants to see them just put together a rock solid Foo Fighters album. If it sounds anything like “Erase / Replace,” I think it would be a welcome relief in a world where Hannah Montana is the hottest concert of the year.
The intro to the first single “The Pretender” borrows from “Stairway to Heaven,” but overall sounds like a single and is nothing much new. “Let it Die” has glimpses of greatness but can’t overcome lyrical apathy second to only, maybe “Tequila.” Grohl seems to have some limitations in that he’ll often resort to screaming or just saying the same few words over and over and over again. The result can sound like a rock & roll brain freeze. See “Let it Die” and “But Honestly” for proof.
“Long Road to Ruin” has a little country flare mixed in and should be welcomed by the Southern rock set or at least by people who like Kid Rock more now that he’s trying to be Hank Williams. I specifically like the mid-song acoustic breakdown (the 2:15 minute mark); it’s all very Nickelback. Yes, that’s a compliment. I think. Hold up your lighters gents.
“But, Honestly” should be noted because it’s proof that bone crunching and acoustic can fit together in a right sized cocktail glass. It works here because the song builds throughout and Hawkins plays a prominent role. “Cheer Up Boys (Your Makeup Is Running)” has a fantastic guitar intro and should receive bonus points because I assume it’s a shot at the emo set.
All in all I’m a fan of the Foo Fighters. I just wish they would embrace being the Foo Fighters. Otherwise they’ll just be a recycling bin band (Audioslave, Velvet Revolver) with something missing. On Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace the band spends too much time playing ‘70s style AM radio soft rock. There’s too much WKRP, sad piano, too much emphasis on showing their range. It’s as if they’re saying, look we can make music like this and that. When all I want to hear is the Foo Fighters. Luckily, the boys did save a little time to put together at least 4 or 5 vintage Foo Fighters tracks. And by my math that’s worth the price of the album.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Eddie Vedder isn’t sure the Joneses are winning. Maybe we shouldn’t spend all our time trying to keep up.
Be warned. In the true spirit of Into the Wild I’m going off the grid for this review. Going philosophical. Going free-wheeling. Maybe even going (a little bit) crazy.
I love Eddie Vedder’s voice. If I were putting together a dream band, I’d be hard pressed not to have Vedder involved. Bono can be the frontman, the entertainer, the big giant head – but we’ll let Eddie do the singing. He has one of those voices I like to hear stretched over songs. His own songs, cover songs – it doesn’t really matter.
When I first heard that Sean Penn was doing the film version of Jon Krakauer’s novel Into the Wild, I was immediately curious. Sean Penn is one of my favorite directors, and while I hadn’t read the book about Christopher McCandless wandering death in Alaska– it sounded epic. When Eddie Vedder signed on to do the soundtrack as a solo artist it was almost too good to be true.
The Into The Wild soundtrack contains eleven tracks, but seven clock in at less than three minutes – a handful closer to one minute in duration. Hell, maybe Vedder is redirecting his energy away from Ticketmaster and towards the new music goliath, Apple’s iTunes. Must be hard for them to sell a $0.99 download when you can nearly hear the entire track in the :30 preview. At least they didn’t shorten to :15 previews or something although they did split up the last track “Guaranteed” to be sold as both the singing version and the humming version, nice. The casual music or even Pearl Jam fan won’t find much here. But Into the Wild is a welcome pleasure for the few of us who believe music should tell a story, make us think, affect the decisions we make in our lives, and change the world.
Sure there are some songs like “Rise” where Vedder makes the journey of Into the Wild a breezy one. You can find yourself barefoot on the dashboard riding the wave (where it takes me!) with outstretched hand out the window on a song like “Rise.” There’s something very campfire in Vedder’s voice. It’s got that REI, frontier range. His voice wouldn’t sound small in big places. That’s why he’s perfect for the Into the Wild soundtrack. But the real magic doesn’t come from passively listening to this disc, it comes from opening your mind to the debate and the magnetic pull of the Into the Wild story – here told in its music form.
While doing the business travel thing early this week I found myself sitting in a lot of airport lines. I would listen to the flight attendants as they announced, “At this time our Sky Team Elite members and people seated in Exit rows may begin boarding.”
After you notice that everyone on the plane is apparently a member of the Sky Team, you can watch the herd move towards the gate agents like cattle. Sure some of the travelers have a little more fashion, downtown glasses, more interesting luggage to carry. But it’s really a sea of slightly overweight corporate men shuffling their way around the country. As I sat there in line holding my Into the Wild soundtrack, it seemed appropriate to ask, and to what end? What are we all really doing anyway? If at the end of the day it’s about being good to your wife, your kids, there’s probably a simpler way to do this. And best I can tell we certainly spend most of our time chasing other things.
I remember a few years back Kare 11 news here in the Twin Cities did an investigative report on the nightly news where they had discovered that some of the guys who work the assembly line had been smoking pot on their lunch break at the Ford Ranger plant in Saint Paul. The news crew hid and filmed these big burly, Deadwood style men sitting at picnic tables smoking a joint on their lunch break. The men they showed were real men. Men who own a thermos, men working a job that means they’re probably missing a finger or two. Men who sneak a puff just to make the grind of the day go by faster.
At the end of the report the investigative TV news crew got right in the faces of some of the guys as they were leaving their shift and busted them on film for smoking pot on their lunch. I’ll never forget the footage of this one guy yelling back at the news crew. He just kept saying, “Yeah, I make stuff. It’s what I do. I make trucks. That’s what I do. What do you do? What do you make?”
I was always haunted by that. I thought he brought up a wonderful point. What in the world is a news report like that doing for the world? What are they making? What is their product, their craft, their trade? Makes me wonder if people who do something, the people with a tangible craft aren’t happier in life.
This life riddle has been on my mind for a long time. It’s the reason I fell in love with the parable of The Angler and the Executive when a buddy emailed it to me years ago:
THE ANGLER AND THE EXECUTIVE - Working for a Living
An American businessman was at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked. Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.
The Mexican replied, "Only a little while, senor."
The American then asked, "Why didn't you stay out longer and catch more fish?"
The Mexican said he had enough to support his family's immediate needs.
The American then asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?"
The Mexican fisherman said, "I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife, Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life, senor."
The American scoffed, "I am a Harvard MBA and could help you. You should spend more time fishing and with the proceeds, but a bigger boat with the proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several boats, eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to middlemen you would sell directly to the processor, eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing and distribution. You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then LA and eventually NYC where you will run your expanding enterprise."
The Mexican fisherman asked, "But senor, how long will this all take?"
To which the American replied, "15-20 years."
"But what then, senor?"
The American laughed and said, "That's the best part. When the time is right you would announce an IPO and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich, you would make millions."
"Millions, senor? Then what?"
The American said, "Then you would retire. Move to small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos."
It seems better to be the Angler. And to focus on what matters (clue: it’s not stuff). As I started listening to Into the Wild I asked myself what do I make? What lifestyle would make me happiest and most fulfilled?
I think Eddie Vedder gets this riddle in spades. You can see it in the way he’s managed or maybe mismanaged Pearl Jam’s career to expertly balance fame and authenticity. As Bono put it “every mission bites the nails of success.” Think about it, Pearl Jam didn’t make videos for their songs, took on Ticketmaster, and released a CD of every live show they did one year (the labels love that!).
While studying abroad I went to see Pearl Jam live in Australia on St. Patrick’s Day once. I only remember a few of their songs before I woke up in my dorm room with a torn t-shirt next to my bed. But the one thing I do remember is how they opened their set playing the five minute epic “Release” completely in the dark. There’s something in that simplicity that shows power in the underdone.
Vedder’s solo stuff on Into the Wild addresses the little debate I know many of us have in our minds: Is it better to . . . 1) bust our ass to get the addition on the house, the right cars, the right life 2) live above the game (or below) and just focus on what matters or find a career that’s a bigger contribution to society or 3) do we try to get filthy rich before we’re 40 so we can “afford to” become the high school teacher the kids always ask to speak at graduation –perhaps the best of both worlds. I don’t know the answer. I just know the Into the Wild soundtrack makes me think it’s very important to figure that out and to set a course even if that course is a very bohemian and shaggy choice number 4) to begin life where the road ends like McCandless did.
Truth be told the music on Into The Wild is nowhere near as compelling as the lyrics. And Vedder’s lyrics are masterful in their simplicity. This is the sort of stuff a college English class could dedicated a full week to on the syllabus.
Here is a song by song breakdown of the musical companion piece Vedder has created to McCandless’ famous journey:
“Setting Forth” is the untethered tale of letting go as well as the beginning of a journey moving “forward in reverse.” Maybe the thing that feels most real today is the pain of your knuckles scraping on the ground again. Maybe it feels better to get all Siddhartha and just look around and listen. To paint the face, play the bongos naked, and just smell the air, man.
“No Ceiling” shows that true wisdom comes from “believing more than I had.” Vedder seems to say it’s not the stuff you accumulate that matters it’s the experiences. When you’re in love with the intangibles, “this love has got no ceiling.” A statement flying in the face of the corporate ladder for certain.
“Far Behind” is where the protagonist goes further than I’m comfortable. We still see the central tension of the rat race with lyrics like “empty pockets will allow a greater sense of wealth” and “why contain yourself like any other book on the shelf.” A human truth especially today when you think of all the people that collect music and DVDs and books for their homes. Time spent accumulating stuff for their walls. I’ve always found it better to just pass a book on to someone else. Feel like stuff should go through you not be buried with you. That’s where the energy really is passing on the juice like that.
But on “Far Behind” we also hear a story of a person ready to leave all companionship and spend the rest of his life one with only nature and maybe his shadow. Not speaking directly to me anymore, but I’m sure it makes for a hell of a book/movie.
“Rise” is one of the fuller songs on the record with that familiar Pearl Jam sound (two minutes of it anyway). Lyrically exploring similar what does it all add up to themes clearly warn us that if you’re not careful the race against time can quickly turn into a life spent “turning mistakes into gold” and “burning black holes in memories.” As a dad and a husband all this makes me want to call a family meeting and ask what it’s all about. What’s our family plan? Mission? What are we here to do? What do we make? I used to think that sounded scary sort of pyramid scheme-ish, like I was “living the principle” or something. But now I’m not so sure that the alternative of not having a plan isn’t more frightening.
I suspect the Into the Wild soundtrack follows a similar story arch to the movie, and on track five “Long Nights” the lights continue to go out with our narrator slowly fading into the wilderness. The music has turned to night, but when Vedder sings “I am Falling” and his downy voice actually goes up in pitch, somehow we actually believe it will all be OK.
Instrumental “Tuolumne” provides the Ms. Pacman “They Meet” intermission we somehow need. It’s a little one-minute strum reminiscent of “Dust in the Wind.”
After intermission is where the snippets turn into songs on Into the Wild. The story has changed, something has happened, he’s strong again – or at peace anyway. “Hard Sun” must be the song when the credits role. We go from poetry to music here. Vedder cheats a bit using a mother earth metaphor to have nature become a female companion probably so he can get a song on the record that has a shot for radio play. “In the big hard world” even sounds like a march, makes me wonder if it’s cattle. Or people in line to board the airplane. Interesting to note while “Hard Sun” is called out on the album sticker on the cover, it’s one of only two songs on the album that Vedder did not write himself.
Vedder didn’t write “Society” either, but it’s a lyrical masterpiece of the riddle of life. It’s a last call song, a checking out song as our protagonist . . .Hell, lets call him our hero at this point says “I think I need to find a bigger place.” He asks Society to please not think less of him it’s just that the math simply didn’t work out. Irish folkie Jerry Hannan wrote “Society” and also provides background vocal and guitar here.
“The Wolf” is another spirit horse style instrumental transition taking us to chapter three where we finish with a bit of filler in “End of the Road” which is a better headline (“For me it begins at the end of the road”) than it is a song. “End of the Road” is one of the only spots where Vedder seems a bit fatigued, but perhaps this song is used as more of an instrumental score in the film –I’ve yet to see it.
“Guaranteed” is a bad ass finish with Vedder adding a little strut and certainty to his message. With lyrics like these:
“half their lives they’ll say goodnight to wives they’ll never know”
“everyone I come across in cages that they bought”
“I knew all the rules but the rules did not know me”
“Guaranteed” is the punctuation point as if to say I told you so, and the finish to an album that’s a wonderful series of little points that all adds up to one big story.
Into the Wild is a tough disc to recommend. It’s not something you’ll want in your car everyday. Vedder fans will like tracks like “Society,” a great modern American folk song. They’ll also like songs like “Hard Sun” and “Guaranteed.” But the real magic is in the writing. I’ll need to read Krakauer’s book to confirm how much are Eddie’s words here vs. his. But if half of the prose belongs to Vedder he’s done an amazing job here of being true to the story that I know of it while adding a new dimension through the music. Not to mention he made me think. So for the few of us that like to sit with the liner notes and dissect music –you will love Into the Wild, but this record won’t appeal to the Pearl Jam Ten masses.
I’ll post the full “Society” lyrics later in the week for those of you still curious after 2,700 words.
I love Eddie Vedder’s voice. If I were putting together a dream band, I’d be hard pressed not to have Vedder involved. Bono can be the frontman, the entertainer, the big giant head – but we’ll let Eddie do the singing. He has one of those voices I like to hear stretched over songs. His own songs, cover songs – it doesn’t really matter.
When I first heard that Sean Penn was doing the film version of Jon Krakauer’s novel Into the Wild, I was immediately curious. Sean Penn is one of my favorite directors, and while I hadn’t read the book about Christopher McCandless wandering death in Alaska– it sounded epic. When Eddie Vedder signed on to do the soundtrack as a solo artist it was almost too good to be true.
The Into The Wild soundtrack contains eleven tracks, but seven clock in at less than three minutes – a handful closer to one minute in duration. Hell, maybe Vedder is redirecting his energy away from Ticketmaster and towards the new music goliath, Apple’s iTunes. Must be hard for them to sell a $0.99 download when you can nearly hear the entire track in the :30 preview. At least they didn’t shorten to :15 previews or something although they did split up the last track “Guaranteed” to be sold as both the singing version and the humming version, nice. The casual music or even Pearl Jam fan won’t find much here. But Into the Wild is a welcome pleasure for the few of us who believe music should tell a story, make us think, affect the decisions we make in our lives, and change the world.
Sure there are some songs like “Rise” where Vedder makes the journey of Into the Wild a breezy one. You can find yourself barefoot on the dashboard riding the wave (where it takes me!) with outstretched hand out the window on a song like “Rise.” There’s something very campfire in Vedder’s voice. It’s got that REI, frontier range. His voice wouldn’t sound small in big places. That’s why he’s perfect for the Into the Wild soundtrack. But the real magic doesn’t come from passively listening to this disc, it comes from opening your mind to the debate and the magnetic pull of the Into the Wild story – here told in its music form.
While doing the business travel thing early this week I found myself sitting in a lot of airport lines. I would listen to the flight attendants as they announced, “At this time our Sky Team Elite members and people seated in Exit rows may begin boarding.”
After you notice that everyone on the plane is apparently a member of the Sky Team, you can watch the herd move towards the gate agents like cattle. Sure some of the travelers have a little more fashion, downtown glasses, more interesting luggage to carry. But it’s really a sea of slightly overweight corporate men shuffling their way around the country. As I sat there in line holding my Into the Wild soundtrack, it seemed appropriate to ask, and to what end? What are we all really doing anyway? If at the end of the day it’s about being good to your wife, your kids, there’s probably a simpler way to do this. And best I can tell we certainly spend most of our time chasing other things.
I remember a few years back Kare 11 news here in the Twin Cities did an investigative report on the nightly news where they had discovered that some of the guys who work the assembly line had been smoking pot on their lunch break at the Ford Ranger plant in Saint Paul. The news crew hid and filmed these big burly, Deadwood style men sitting at picnic tables smoking a joint on their lunch break. The men they showed were real men. Men who own a thermos, men working a job that means they’re probably missing a finger or two. Men who sneak a puff just to make the grind of the day go by faster.
At the end of the report the investigative TV news crew got right in the faces of some of the guys as they were leaving their shift and busted them on film for smoking pot on their lunch. I’ll never forget the footage of this one guy yelling back at the news crew. He just kept saying, “Yeah, I make stuff. It’s what I do. I make trucks. That’s what I do. What do you do? What do you make?”
I was always haunted by that. I thought he brought up a wonderful point. What in the world is a news report like that doing for the world? What are they making? What is their product, their craft, their trade? Makes me wonder if people who do something, the people with a tangible craft aren’t happier in life.
This life riddle has been on my mind for a long time. It’s the reason I fell in love with the parable of The Angler and the Executive when a buddy emailed it to me years ago:
THE ANGLER AND THE EXECUTIVE - Working for a Living
An American businessman was at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked. Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.
The Mexican replied, "Only a little while, senor."
The American then asked, "Why didn't you stay out longer and catch more fish?"
The Mexican said he had enough to support his family's immediate needs.
The American then asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?"
The Mexican fisherman said, "I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife, Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life, senor."
The American scoffed, "I am a Harvard MBA and could help you. You should spend more time fishing and with the proceeds, but a bigger boat with the proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several boats, eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to middlemen you would sell directly to the processor, eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing and distribution. You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then LA and eventually NYC where you will run your expanding enterprise."
The Mexican fisherman asked, "But senor, how long will this all take?"
To which the American replied, "15-20 years."
"But what then, senor?"
The American laughed and said, "That's the best part. When the time is right you would announce an IPO and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich, you would make millions."
"Millions, senor? Then what?"
The American said, "Then you would retire. Move to small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos."
It seems better to be the Angler. And to focus on what matters (clue: it’s not stuff). As I started listening to Into the Wild I asked myself what do I make? What lifestyle would make me happiest and most fulfilled?
I think Eddie Vedder gets this riddle in spades. You can see it in the way he’s managed or maybe mismanaged Pearl Jam’s career to expertly balance fame and authenticity. As Bono put it “every mission bites the nails of success.” Think about it, Pearl Jam didn’t make videos for their songs, took on Ticketmaster, and released a CD of every live show they did one year (the labels love that!).
While studying abroad I went to see Pearl Jam live in Australia on St. Patrick’s Day once. I only remember a few of their songs before I woke up in my dorm room with a torn t-shirt next to my bed. But the one thing I do remember is how they opened their set playing the five minute epic “Release” completely in the dark. There’s something in that simplicity that shows power in the underdone.
Vedder’s solo stuff on Into the Wild addresses the little debate I know many of us have in our minds: Is it better to . . . 1) bust our ass to get the addition on the house, the right cars, the right life 2) live above the game (or below) and just focus on what matters or find a career that’s a bigger contribution to society or 3) do we try to get filthy rich before we’re 40 so we can “afford to” become the high school teacher the kids always ask to speak at graduation –perhaps the best of both worlds. I don’t know the answer. I just know the Into the Wild soundtrack makes me think it’s very important to figure that out and to set a course even if that course is a very bohemian and shaggy choice number 4) to begin life where the road ends like McCandless did.
Truth be told the music on Into The Wild is nowhere near as compelling as the lyrics. And Vedder’s lyrics are masterful in their simplicity. This is the sort of stuff a college English class could dedicated a full week to on the syllabus.
Here is a song by song breakdown of the musical companion piece Vedder has created to McCandless’ famous journey:
“Setting Forth” is the untethered tale of letting go as well as the beginning of a journey moving “forward in reverse.” Maybe the thing that feels most real today is the pain of your knuckles scraping on the ground again. Maybe it feels better to get all Siddhartha and just look around and listen. To paint the face, play the bongos naked, and just smell the air, man.
“No Ceiling” shows that true wisdom comes from “believing more than I had.” Vedder seems to say it’s not the stuff you accumulate that matters it’s the experiences. When you’re in love with the intangibles, “this love has got no ceiling.” A statement flying in the face of the corporate ladder for certain.
“Far Behind” is where the protagonist goes further than I’m comfortable. We still see the central tension of the rat race with lyrics like “empty pockets will allow a greater sense of wealth” and “why contain yourself like any other book on the shelf.” A human truth especially today when you think of all the people that collect music and DVDs and books for their homes. Time spent accumulating stuff for their walls. I’ve always found it better to just pass a book on to someone else. Feel like stuff should go through you not be buried with you. That’s where the energy really is passing on the juice like that.
But on “Far Behind” we also hear a story of a person ready to leave all companionship and spend the rest of his life one with only nature and maybe his shadow. Not speaking directly to me anymore, but I’m sure it makes for a hell of a book/movie.
“Rise” is one of the fuller songs on the record with that familiar Pearl Jam sound (two minutes of it anyway). Lyrically exploring similar what does it all add up to themes clearly warn us that if you’re not careful the race against time can quickly turn into a life spent “turning mistakes into gold” and “burning black holes in memories.” As a dad and a husband all this makes me want to call a family meeting and ask what it’s all about. What’s our family plan? Mission? What are we here to do? What do we make? I used to think that sounded scary sort of pyramid scheme-ish, like I was “living the principle” or something. But now I’m not so sure that the alternative of not having a plan isn’t more frightening.
I suspect the Into the Wild soundtrack follows a similar story arch to the movie, and on track five “Long Nights” the lights continue to go out with our narrator slowly fading into the wilderness. The music has turned to night, but when Vedder sings “I am Falling” and his downy voice actually goes up in pitch, somehow we actually believe it will all be OK.
Instrumental “Tuolumne” provides the Ms. Pacman “They Meet” intermission we somehow need. It’s a little one-minute strum reminiscent of “Dust in the Wind.”
After intermission is where the snippets turn into songs on Into the Wild. The story has changed, something has happened, he’s strong again – or at peace anyway. “Hard Sun” must be the song when the credits role. We go from poetry to music here. Vedder cheats a bit using a mother earth metaphor to have nature become a female companion probably so he can get a song on the record that has a shot for radio play. “In the big hard world” even sounds like a march, makes me wonder if it’s cattle. Or people in line to board the airplane. Interesting to note while “Hard Sun” is called out on the album sticker on the cover, it’s one of only two songs on the album that Vedder did not write himself.
Vedder didn’t write “Society” either, but it’s a lyrical masterpiece of the riddle of life. It’s a last call song, a checking out song as our protagonist . . .Hell, lets call him our hero at this point says “I think I need to find a bigger place.” He asks Society to please not think less of him it’s just that the math simply didn’t work out. Irish folkie Jerry Hannan wrote “Society” and also provides background vocal and guitar here.
“The Wolf” is another spirit horse style instrumental transition taking us to chapter three where we finish with a bit of filler in “End of the Road” which is a better headline (“For me it begins at the end of the road”) than it is a song. “End of the Road” is one of the only spots where Vedder seems a bit fatigued, but perhaps this song is used as more of an instrumental score in the film –I’ve yet to see it.
“Guaranteed” is a bad ass finish with Vedder adding a little strut and certainty to his message. With lyrics like these:
“half their lives they’ll say goodnight to wives they’ll never know”
“everyone I come across in cages that they bought”
“I knew all the rules but the rules did not know me”
“Guaranteed” is the punctuation point as if to say I told you so, and the finish to an album that’s a wonderful series of little points that all adds up to one big story.
Into the Wild is a tough disc to recommend. It’s not something you’ll want in your car everyday. Vedder fans will like tracks like “Society,” a great modern American folk song. They’ll also like songs like “Hard Sun” and “Guaranteed.” But the real magic is in the writing. I’ll need to read Krakauer’s book to confirm how much are Eddie’s words here vs. his. But if half of the prose belongs to Vedder he’s done an amazing job here of being true to the story that I know of it while adding a new dimension through the music. Not to mention he made me think. So for the few of us that like to sit with the liner notes and dissect music –you will love Into the Wild, but this record won’t appeal to the Pearl Jam Ten masses.
I’ll post the full “Society” lyrics later in the week for those of you still curious after 2,700 words.
Pint of Foo in Boston
I had an amazing music experience today. An amazing marketing experience as well. I found myself in Boston on business and had a chance to sneak away to Newbury comics. Shamefully I must admit, while in college in Boston I did more of my music shopping at the big box Tower Records (then Virgin . . .now Best Buy) right up the street – I have since grown to appreciate the indie flare of Newbury Comics. It’s the sort of place that barely exists anymore, a true drive-downtown-in-the rain-just-to-check-out-the-late-night-record-shop. They’ve got comics, the McFarlane dolls, the pins for your jean jacket, and of course loads and loads of music.
I picked up the Foo Fighters new disc Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace and the sales clerk asked me if I wanted my free pint glass to go with it. I didn’t think he was serious, but I said sure. So he starts wrapping up a nice heavy pint glass with the Foo Fighters logo on one side and the Newbury logo on the other. Then he asks me if I also want the free 7” vinyl of the first single off the album “The Pretender.” Of course I did.
Confused I asked the guy if the pint glass and 7” promo was only a Newbury Comics thing. . .
“Yes,” he said.
“Why, does Dave Grohl love you guys or something?” I asked.
To which he replied simply, “No, he loves you.”
That ladies and gentleman is the best music buying experience I’ve had while banging on the blog for ya, perhaps my best ever. If ever in Boston be sure to check out Newbury Comics.
I picked up the Foo Fighters new disc Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace and the sales clerk asked me if I wanted my free pint glass to go with it. I didn’t think he was serious, but I said sure. So he starts wrapping up a nice heavy pint glass with the Foo Fighters logo on one side and the Newbury logo on the other. Then he asks me if I also want the free 7” vinyl of the first single off the album “The Pretender.” Of course I did.
Confused I asked the guy if the pint glass and 7” promo was only a Newbury Comics thing. . .
“Yes,” he said.
“Why, does Dave Grohl love you guys or something?” I asked.
To which he replied simply, “No, he loves you.”
That ladies and gentleman is the best music buying experience I’ve had while banging on the blog for ya, perhaps my best ever. If ever in Boston be sure to check out Newbury Comics.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Graduation 3rd best for Mr. West. But it's Kanye, so he's still on the hip-hop medal stand
For me hip-hop has different expectations than other types of music. I always think of hip-hop in a more disposable way. In many ways the have it now appeal of the genre is the exact opposite of the album focus I tend to favor here on the blog. If album orientated rock & roll is the TV commercial, the film, or my favorite pair of old boots –hip-hop for me is a lot closer to a headline, a movie trailer, or an Old Navy tee I’m OK tossing in the bin after one wear.
I guess it makes sense that hip-hop dominates in today’s ring tone, single driven, digital music world. Like all of the impulse buy colorful candies and cleverly packaged gums and mints next to the checkout register, hip-hop is impulsive and irresistible. It delivers the right now sound.
Of course there are exceptions to the rule. For every Montell Jordan, Dangerous Minds soundtrack, or Nate Dogg record –there is a Paul’s Boutique, The Chronic, or The Low End Theory. And for the past few years, no one has been more reliable than Kanye West churning out solid hip-hop discs. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed Kanye’s first two records. At his best Kanye brings a lethal combo of brains and bounce. For me Kanye is like A Tribe Called Quest meets Diddy. His music is Lacoste brite with the popped color of late ‘90s Bad Boy with the added dimension of a heavy lyric like vintage Tribe.
Truth be told I feel like Graduation is the worst Kanye offering to date. It must be hard, when you emerge on the scene with a song as hot and smart as “Jesus Walks” where do you go from there? His second record Late Registration did a nice job of running a narrative through the entire disc while delivering punchy singles like “Gold Digger,” “Touch the Sky,” and “Diamonds from Sierra Leone.”
I’ll say this, if the appeal of hip-hop is as immediate as a movie preview, then the first single off Graduation “Stronger” would be the Transformers movie trailer on the 4th of July served with a large popcorn with butter in the middle and on top. Toss in a gigantic Cherry Coke for good measure. Damn, there’s a lot of sound in there. This killer single alone gave 50 Cent no chance in the battle for hip-hop supremacy. I spent one entire weekend blasting “Stronger” [Dads, if you start at the 1:30 mark you’ll miss most of the language] for my 6 and 9 year old kids. They straight up love it. When Kanye is at his best it’s like he’s sparring with the music. He’s having as much fun on the ride as you are singing, “Hey. . .hey. . “ “Stronger” is the perfect example of Kanye’s Crayola colored stomp. It’s awesome. I’m sure ESPN will be scoring an Ultimate Highlight to this one. I particularly love the stairway to heaven lyric where he steps from “Kanye likes” to “Klondike” to “blonde dyke” to “limelight”-awesome stuff right there. “Stronger” makes me want to lose my mind. If I were a high school football player listening to this pre-game I might not even make it out under the Friday night lights—I’d probably run headfirst into my locker or throw a garbage can at the chalk board. It’s that good, and you have to like any song with a prominent shout-out to both Prince and O.J.
It wasn’t until late last week that I finally found Graduation still in stock on a sunny morning as I stopped into a Target on my way into work. When I popped in the disc, “Good Morning” started to play and I heard the familiar “uh” of Mr. West –It sounded like a Polo shirt still warm from the dryer. Like hip hop Prozac. “In the Morning” isn’t a mix tape song necessarily but it sure is a great way to start the day. Kanye says early into the track, “Welcome to Graduation” and I was happy to be there.
“Champion” has a nice upbeat vibe to it, but with a title like that it reminded me of that old grey sweatshirt IT TAKE A LITTLE MORE TO MAKE A CHAMPION. And while “Champion” has a nifty sample it won’t bring home any hardware at the big game.
“I Wonder” has a unique heartbeat pace and is pretty interesting in combination with an awkwardly slow pace to Kanye’s rhyme. With the sample it sounds fresh—just not all that appealing. I’m guessing this abnormal rhythm will sound better to the critics listening on their stethoscopes than it will to the masses on their stereos.
It’s hard to punish a song that I first heard on Entourage when Vinny Chase and the boys grabbed a lift off Kanye’s jet to get to Cannes and blasted “Good Life” on the way. But there’s not a lot here once you get past the Jacko “P.Y..T” sample and a few nice “I, I go for mine. I got to shine” lyrical jabs. Yes, it sounds like the good life but I’d rather be “Big Pimpin’” any day of the week. On “Can’t Tell me Nothing” Kanye continues to break down the price of fame and his aggression sounds more natural.
The real reason Graduation doesn’t measure up to previous Kanye records is a sequence of major misses in the middle of the record. On “Barry Bonds” Kanye does clear my throat crunk and it sounds about as natural as when Hammer went gangsta rap. To be perfectly honest I would rather have heard Kanye’s take on the actual Barry Bonds debate, it’s a more interesting story with race, celebrity, and truth as key themes. Instead “Barry Bonds” is the start of a dreadful three song pit stop. “Flashing Lights” is basically a inferior and slower version of Justin Timberlake’s “LoveStoned/I think She Knows,” and only reinforces that J.T. may have made more progress than Kanye himself over the past couple years. This creative caul-de-sac also includes the low point on the record, “Drunk and Hot Girls” a predatory, misogynistic, and actually scary take on coaxing some ladies to have another “sippy sippy” off the whiskey even though they can’t keep their heads up. Brutal. When you hear lyrics like “Suck my fat bitch” delivered in a Macy Gray drawl by ‘Lil Wayne it makes me want to say to Kanye, “come on, you’re better than that.” And he is.
Kanye gets back on track (barely) for the last three tracks starting with “Everything I Am” which has professor Kanye back in the classroom, but still with not much to teach. “The Glory” has a sweet Jackson 5ish sample. And “Homecoming” has a guest appearance from Chris Martin that is a great reminder that the Coldplay frontman’s vocal has reached a “We are The World” level of distinction. It’s just one of those voices that gives unexpected joy and plays nicely with others like Colin Hay or even Sting. I should mention a friend of mine recently proclaimed “Homecoming” the best running song since Eminem’s “Lose Yourself” so I’ll need to pop it on the iPod for my next sweat. Seems like a stretch but Martin’s voice over an urban soundscape makes for beautiful graffiti.
Graduation finishes with “Big Brother” a love letter slash apology to Kanye’s mentor Jay-Z with a nice message to tell people how you feel before it’s too late.
At one point on Graduation West longs for Lauryn Hill to return to rhyming, before volunteering to pick up the slack himself. He falls short on Graduation. He still has nice party moments on the Diddy side of things but he’s missing the thoughtful “Jesus Walks” Tribe style manifestos which ultimately makes Graduation the 3rd pace finisher for Kanye’s solo career.
I guess it makes sense that hip-hop dominates in today’s ring tone, single driven, digital music world. Like all of the impulse buy colorful candies and cleverly packaged gums and mints next to the checkout register, hip-hop is impulsive and irresistible. It delivers the right now sound.
Of course there are exceptions to the rule. For every Montell Jordan, Dangerous Minds soundtrack, or Nate Dogg record –there is a Paul’s Boutique, The Chronic, or The Low End Theory. And for the past few years, no one has been more reliable than Kanye West churning out solid hip-hop discs. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed Kanye’s first two records. At his best Kanye brings a lethal combo of brains and bounce. For me Kanye is like A Tribe Called Quest meets Diddy. His music is Lacoste brite with the popped color of late ‘90s Bad Boy with the added dimension of a heavy lyric like vintage Tribe.
Truth be told I feel like Graduation is the worst Kanye offering to date. It must be hard, when you emerge on the scene with a song as hot and smart as “Jesus Walks” where do you go from there? His second record Late Registration did a nice job of running a narrative through the entire disc while delivering punchy singles like “Gold Digger,” “Touch the Sky,” and “Diamonds from Sierra Leone.”
I’ll say this, if the appeal of hip-hop is as immediate as a movie preview, then the first single off Graduation “Stronger” would be the Transformers movie trailer on the 4th of July served with a large popcorn with butter in the middle and on top. Toss in a gigantic Cherry Coke for good measure. Damn, there’s a lot of sound in there. This killer single alone gave 50 Cent no chance in the battle for hip-hop supremacy. I spent one entire weekend blasting “Stronger” [Dads, if you start at the 1:30 mark you’ll miss most of the language] for my 6 and 9 year old kids. They straight up love it. When Kanye is at his best it’s like he’s sparring with the music. He’s having as much fun on the ride as you are singing, “Hey. . .hey. . “ “Stronger” is the perfect example of Kanye’s Crayola colored stomp. It’s awesome. I’m sure ESPN will be scoring an Ultimate Highlight to this one. I particularly love the stairway to heaven lyric where he steps from “Kanye likes” to “Klondike” to “blonde dyke” to “limelight”-awesome stuff right there. “Stronger” makes me want to lose my mind. If I were a high school football player listening to this pre-game I might not even make it out under the Friday night lights—I’d probably run headfirst into my locker or throw a garbage can at the chalk board. It’s that good, and you have to like any song with a prominent shout-out to both Prince and O.J.
It wasn’t until late last week that I finally found Graduation still in stock on a sunny morning as I stopped into a Target on my way into work. When I popped in the disc, “Good Morning” started to play and I heard the familiar “uh” of Mr. West –It sounded like a Polo shirt still warm from the dryer. Like hip hop Prozac. “In the Morning” isn’t a mix tape song necessarily but it sure is a great way to start the day. Kanye says early into the track, “Welcome to Graduation” and I was happy to be there.
“Champion” has a nice upbeat vibe to it, but with a title like that it reminded me of that old grey sweatshirt IT TAKE A LITTLE MORE TO MAKE A CHAMPION. And while “Champion” has a nifty sample it won’t bring home any hardware at the big game.
“I Wonder” has a unique heartbeat pace and is pretty interesting in combination with an awkwardly slow pace to Kanye’s rhyme. With the sample it sounds fresh—just not all that appealing. I’m guessing this abnormal rhythm will sound better to the critics listening on their stethoscopes than it will to the masses on their stereos.
It’s hard to punish a song that I first heard on Entourage when Vinny Chase and the boys grabbed a lift off Kanye’s jet to get to Cannes and blasted “Good Life” on the way. But there’s not a lot here once you get past the Jacko “P.Y..T” sample and a few nice “I, I go for mine. I got to shine” lyrical jabs. Yes, it sounds like the good life but I’d rather be “Big Pimpin’” any day of the week. On “Can’t Tell me Nothing” Kanye continues to break down the price of fame and his aggression sounds more natural.
The real reason Graduation doesn’t measure up to previous Kanye records is a sequence of major misses in the middle of the record. On “Barry Bonds” Kanye does clear my throat crunk and it sounds about as natural as when Hammer went gangsta rap. To be perfectly honest I would rather have heard Kanye’s take on the actual Barry Bonds debate, it’s a more interesting story with race, celebrity, and truth as key themes. Instead “Barry Bonds” is the start of a dreadful three song pit stop. “Flashing Lights” is basically a inferior and slower version of Justin Timberlake’s “LoveStoned/I think She Knows,” and only reinforces that J.T. may have made more progress than Kanye himself over the past couple years. This creative caul-de-sac also includes the low point on the record, “Drunk and Hot Girls” a predatory, misogynistic, and actually scary take on coaxing some ladies to have another “sippy sippy” off the whiskey even though they can’t keep their heads up. Brutal. When you hear lyrics like “Suck my fat bitch” delivered in a Macy Gray drawl by ‘Lil Wayne it makes me want to say to Kanye, “come on, you’re better than that.” And he is.
Kanye gets back on track (barely) for the last three tracks starting with “Everything I Am” which has professor Kanye back in the classroom, but still with not much to teach. “The Glory” has a sweet Jackson 5ish sample. And “Homecoming” has a guest appearance from Chris Martin that is a great reminder that the Coldplay frontman’s vocal has reached a “We are The World” level of distinction. It’s just one of those voices that gives unexpected joy and plays nicely with others like Colin Hay or even Sting. I should mention a friend of mine recently proclaimed “Homecoming” the best running song since Eminem’s “Lose Yourself” so I’ll need to pop it on the iPod for my next sweat. Seems like a stretch but Martin’s voice over an urban soundscape makes for beautiful graffiti.
Graduation finishes with “Big Brother” a love letter slash apology to Kanye’s mentor Jay-Z with a nice message to tell people how you feel before it’s too late.
At one point on Graduation West longs for Lauryn Hill to return to rhyming, before volunteering to pick up the slack himself. He falls short on Graduation. He still has nice party moments on the Diddy side of things but he’s missing the thoughtful “Jesus Walks” Tribe style manifestos which ultimately makes Graduation the 3rd pace finisher for Kanye’s solo career.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Old Crow Medicine Show May Not Make Bluegrass A Thing - But Someone Will!
Old Crow Medicine Show sounds like a hardware store. The music smells of metal and the music crinkles as the clerk writes the cost of your nuts and bolts on the little brown paper bag.
A few years ago I predicted to a buddy that bluegrass music would be the next big thing. I had just seen a band called King Wilkie perform in Charlottesville, VA. My premise was simple. There is no music that sounds better while drinking than bluegrass music. The swinging doors of bluegrass can make anyone want to dive into the brown goods (or beer) and howl at the moon. There’s music that sounds great when you are drunk (hair metal for instance), but bluegrass is drinking music.
I deduced there were enough people who like drinking to make the bluegrass thing happen. I fully expected college kids to do their part. They were bound to love the authenticity of the musicianship required with bluegrass. I could see it all playing out. The Grand Ole Opry would be the new Red Rocks.
Needless to say it never happened.
But it’s funny that Old Crow Medicine Show was recommended to me when I asked a guy who does college tours what music the kids were listening to these days. He shot back Old Crow Medicine Show with sort of a “I know it sounds weird, but that’s what they’re into” disclaimer attached.
And it makes sense. If I were back in college sitting in the muddy backyard of our modular apartment preparing for a college football game I would love to have the Old Crow Medicine Show fading into the tailgate. It’s cool that way. Bluegrass sets a nice vibe; it sort of says you’re above the game of the popular stuff.
But that’s the problem with bluegrass; it’s too damn weird for the mainstream. Bluegrass is sort of like those old fashioned Union Suit underwear with the opening in the back. It’s cool as long as you don’t have to put it on everyday.
Today’s entry is more an endorsement of bluegrass then it is Old Crow Medicine Show specifically. If you don’t know the sound I encourage you to check it out, preferably when you’re on the verge of having a big night. If I were having a house party this fall, Old Crow Medicine Show would make the playlist.
Bluegrass is even better live. There’s just something awesome about seeing that many musicians playing all the instruments (from harmonica to slide guitar to upright bass to banjo to guitjo), and all taking turns coming to the front of the big old fashioned silver microphone at the front of the stage to play their part. The live bluegrass format reminds me of the Catholic mass of my youth, it’s like each guy is taking his turn making his prayer of the faithful. And the yahoo hee-yaw! result makes me want to echo right back like I did then, “Thanks be to God!”
The issue I have with Old Crow Medicine Show’s Big Iron World album in specific is it just sounds like an OK bluegrass record. In fact, it would have made a better EP. Of the few other acts I’ve listened to in the bluegrass genre, most of them have a catchier sound. Old Crow Medicine Show aren’t all that distinct, which I suppose is OK if we’re reducing bluegrass to atmosphere music -but I’m not ready to concede that it can’t be more just yet.
A great track on Big Iron World is the harmonica driven opener “Down Home Girl.” If Activision ever comes out with Harmonica Hero, I’m sure they’ll consult Ketch Secor for tips. His harmonica carries multiple songs on Big Iron World. Lead singer Willie Watson is best when he goes all Johnny Cash vibe with his voice. He does this to great effect on the storytelling number “Bobcat Tracks.” Not to mention Willie Watson is just a rock solid name for a bluegrass front man. When you name your kid Willie Watson does the nurses in the OB/GYN just hand you a pair of overalls and a bottle of bourbon or what?
I’m typically not huge into religion in my music, but Big Iron World really starts to take shape with the spiritual couplet of “God’s Got It” and “I Hear Them All” towards the end of the album. “I Hear Them All” preaches of a democratic theology as the narrator seems to hear all the voices (from Buddha to Elijah) equally in his head. There’s some nice southern fried Zen in there for sure. For the Ryan Adams, alt-country crowd you’ll find something to like in tracks 9-12. If I could re-cut Big Iron World as an EP I would tack the opener “Down Home Girl” onto the last four songs to deliver the highlights of the record.
Another thing that holds Old Crown Medicine Show back for me is the total preoccupation with cocaine as a central theme. I’m fine with sex and drugs in my rock & roll but when nearly every song has a cocaine shout out it starts to make me feel like an enabler for just listening. It’s hard to completely enjoy a chorus like “Take a whiff off me! Take a whiff off me!”
Big Iron World is an OK little bluegrass record. It reminded me that I’d still like to see the day bluegrass gets massive, but if Apple or Gap are looking for the killer bluegrass score for their new commercial—they won’t find it on this record. It’s out there somewhere, and I hope to find it. Old Crow Medicine Show isn’t ready for prime time quite yet, but they’ll sound just fine in my backyard and I’m cool with that too.
A few years ago I predicted to a buddy that bluegrass music would be the next big thing. I had just seen a band called King Wilkie perform in Charlottesville, VA. My premise was simple. There is no music that sounds better while drinking than bluegrass music. The swinging doors of bluegrass can make anyone want to dive into the brown goods (or beer) and howl at the moon. There’s music that sounds great when you are drunk (hair metal for instance), but bluegrass is drinking music.
I deduced there were enough people who like drinking to make the bluegrass thing happen. I fully expected college kids to do their part. They were bound to love the authenticity of the musicianship required with bluegrass. I could see it all playing out. The Grand Ole Opry would be the new Red Rocks.
Needless to say it never happened.
But it’s funny that Old Crow Medicine Show was recommended to me when I asked a guy who does college tours what music the kids were listening to these days. He shot back Old Crow Medicine Show with sort of a “I know it sounds weird, but that’s what they’re into” disclaimer attached.
And it makes sense. If I were back in college sitting in the muddy backyard of our modular apartment preparing for a college football game I would love to have the Old Crow Medicine Show fading into the tailgate. It’s cool that way. Bluegrass sets a nice vibe; it sort of says you’re above the game of the popular stuff.
But that’s the problem with bluegrass; it’s too damn weird for the mainstream. Bluegrass is sort of like those old fashioned Union Suit underwear with the opening in the back. It’s cool as long as you don’t have to put it on everyday.
Today’s entry is more an endorsement of bluegrass then it is Old Crow Medicine Show specifically. If you don’t know the sound I encourage you to check it out, preferably when you’re on the verge of having a big night. If I were having a house party this fall, Old Crow Medicine Show would make the playlist.
Bluegrass is even better live. There’s just something awesome about seeing that many musicians playing all the instruments (from harmonica to slide guitar to upright bass to banjo to guitjo), and all taking turns coming to the front of the big old fashioned silver microphone at the front of the stage to play their part. The live bluegrass format reminds me of the Catholic mass of my youth, it’s like each guy is taking his turn making his prayer of the faithful. And the yahoo hee-yaw! result makes me want to echo right back like I did then, “Thanks be to God!”
The issue I have with Old Crow Medicine Show’s Big Iron World album in specific is it just sounds like an OK bluegrass record. In fact, it would have made a better EP. Of the few other acts I’ve listened to in the bluegrass genre, most of them have a catchier sound. Old Crow Medicine Show aren’t all that distinct, which I suppose is OK if we’re reducing bluegrass to atmosphere music -but I’m not ready to concede that it can’t be more just yet.
A great track on Big Iron World is the harmonica driven opener “Down Home Girl.” If Activision ever comes out with Harmonica Hero, I’m sure they’ll consult Ketch Secor for tips. His harmonica carries multiple songs on Big Iron World. Lead singer Willie Watson is best when he goes all Johnny Cash vibe with his voice. He does this to great effect on the storytelling number “Bobcat Tracks.” Not to mention Willie Watson is just a rock solid name for a bluegrass front man. When you name your kid Willie Watson does the nurses in the OB/GYN just hand you a pair of overalls and a bottle of bourbon or what?
I’m typically not huge into religion in my music, but Big Iron World really starts to take shape with the spiritual couplet of “God’s Got It” and “I Hear Them All” towards the end of the album. “I Hear Them All” preaches of a democratic theology as the narrator seems to hear all the voices (from Buddha to Elijah) equally in his head. There’s some nice southern fried Zen in there for sure. For the Ryan Adams, alt-country crowd you’ll find something to like in tracks 9-12. If I could re-cut Big Iron World as an EP I would tack the opener “Down Home Girl” onto the last four songs to deliver the highlights of the record.
Another thing that holds Old Crown Medicine Show back for me is the total preoccupation with cocaine as a central theme. I’m fine with sex and drugs in my rock & roll but when nearly every song has a cocaine shout out it starts to make me feel like an enabler for just listening. It’s hard to completely enjoy a chorus like “Take a whiff off me! Take a whiff off me!”
Big Iron World is an OK little bluegrass record. It reminded me that I’d still like to see the day bluegrass gets massive, but if Apple or Gap are looking for the killer bluegrass score for their new commercial—they won’t find it on this record. It’s out there somewhere, and I hope to find it. Old Crow Medicine Show isn’t ready for prime time quite yet, but they’ll sound just fine in my backyard and I’m cool with that too.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Am I chewing tin foil or listening to Against Me!?
So I went out on a limb on the Against Me! album this week. Just like sports teams are faced with trap games (Appalachia St. for instance), music lovers are faced with critical trap albums. As I’ve mentioned in this space before, the more music you listen to, the more you appreciate the stuff that sounds different. And music critics are the ultimate freaks that way--they listen for a living so anything that stretches out the edges will naturally have more appeal to them.
The best compliment to Against Me! is they sound different, trouble is they don’t sound very good. They’re not fun to listen to.
I couldn’t wait for this week to end so I could move on to my next selection. Many of the things the critics probably love about Against Me! are the things that start to wear on you after repeat listens. Lead singer Tom Gabel has a voice you would never hear in other screamo bands. Gabel has a deep, thick vocal more Bob Mould or Henry Rollins or god forbid Crash Test Dummies—than standard emo fare. And for that reason the music takes on a whole different sound. But the more I listen to Against Me! the more I think Gabel isn’t singing in his natural pitch. He’s using his “singing voice” –and I’ve never been a fan of vocalists masking on the microphone and forcing things. Not to mention it’s just hard to listen to his voice for a long period of time.
Unlike most of the emo stuff, Against Me’s lyrics are more high school counselor than teenage angst. “Stop!” sounds like a straight edge cover of High School Musical with its “Stop! Take some time to think, figure out what’s important to you” chorus. I think they actually added the F-bomb to the lyrics at the end just so it wouldn’t sound like a straight edge show tune.
The only song worth mentioning on New Wave has the long emo title, “Borne on the FM Waves of the Heart.” It’s a great little hot pocket of a duet with Tegan Quin from Tegan and Sara. “Borne on the FM Waves of the Heart” is like an old school metal ballad - you could see Lita Ford turning up here. The guitar is great and the song ebbs and flows so much the lyric “This room feels like it’s going to explode” could just as easily be talking about the ballad itself busting at the seams. We see the lyrical maturity here as well. “Borne on the FM Waves of the Heart” is basically a summer fling song about two people who know going in that they’re making promises they can’t keep. As a whole there’s a lot more head than heart to Against Me’s version of emo rock.
Another reason I was interested in checking out Against Me! was Bruce Springsteen turning up at one of their live shows and saying they had soul. I can see what the Boss liked here, these kids certainly have something to say. The lyrics are mature and they take a stance on songs like “Americans Abroad.” Clearly these guys are not apathetic youth, and are left leaning like Bruce himself. I think what Bruce probably liked about the band is that they’re not afraid to take a stance unlike a lot of their eyeliner emo peers.
In short, Against Me! didn’t compute for me at all. Gabel’s vocal gives the band a meat-head edge which I couldn’t handle for any extended period of time. It’s like the music has no neck to it. And the mature lyrics really felt too preachy and responsible when I was just looking to have a good time. Therefore New Wave finds itself in the Music Martes ghetto alongside Velvet Revolver’s Libertad. Yuck.
The best compliment to Against Me! is they sound different, trouble is they don’t sound very good. They’re not fun to listen to.
I couldn’t wait for this week to end so I could move on to my next selection. Many of the things the critics probably love about Against Me! are the things that start to wear on you after repeat listens. Lead singer Tom Gabel has a voice you would never hear in other screamo bands. Gabel has a deep, thick vocal more Bob Mould or Henry Rollins or god forbid Crash Test Dummies—than standard emo fare. And for that reason the music takes on a whole different sound. But the more I listen to Against Me! the more I think Gabel isn’t singing in his natural pitch. He’s using his “singing voice” –and I’ve never been a fan of vocalists masking on the microphone and forcing things. Not to mention it’s just hard to listen to his voice for a long period of time.
Unlike most of the emo stuff, Against Me’s lyrics are more high school counselor than teenage angst. “Stop!” sounds like a straight edge cover of High School Musical with its “Stop! Take some time to think, figure out what’s important to you” chorus. I think they actually added the F-bomb to the lyrics at the end just so it wouldn’t sound like a straight edge show tune.
The only song worth mentioning on New Wave has the long emo title, “Borne on the FM Waves of the Heart.” It’s a great little hot pocket of a duet with Tegan Quin from Tegan and Sara. “Borne on the FM Waves of the Heart” is like an old school metal ballad - you could see Lita Ford turning up here. The guitar is great and the song ebbs and flows so much the lyric “This room feels like it’s going to explode” could just as easily be talking about the ballad itself busting at the seams. We see the lyrical maturity here as well. “Borne on the FM Waves of the Heart” is basically a summer fling song about two people who know going in that they’re making promises they can’t keep. As a whole there’s a lot more head than heart to Against Me’s version of emo rock.
Another reason I was interested in checking out Against Me! was Bruce Springsteen turning up at one of their live shows and saying they had soul. I can see what the Boss liked here, these kids certainly have something to say. The lyrics are mature and they take a stance on songs like “Americans Abroad.” Clearly these guys are not apathetic youth, and are left leaning like Bruce himself. I think what Bruce probably liked about the band is that they’re not afraid to take a stance unlike a lot of their eyeliner emo peers.
In short, Against Me! didn’t compute for me at all. Gabel’s vocal gives the band a meat-head edge which I couldn’t handle for any extended period of time. It’s like the music has no neck to it. And the mature lyrics really felt too preachy and responsible when I was just looking to have a good time. Therefore New Wave finds itself in the Music Martes ghetto alongside Velvet Revolver’s Libertad. Yuck.
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