Forgotten Records #3: Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers - The Last DJ

Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers
The Last DJ
2002 Warner Bros.

Why was it forgotten?

Between the releases of 1999’s Echo and today’s entry, 2002’s The Last DJ, a strange thing happened to Tom Petty, and, by extension, his heartbreakers. Like Aerosmith, the Who, the Allman Brothers, the Grateful Dead and countless others before them, Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers became a nostalgia act.

We’ve all seen it countless times. A one-time cutting edge band, successful in their prime both in the studio and on tour, becomes older, starts making bad decisions, releases a few half-hearted albums, and then says “Fuck it, no new material, we’ll just trot out the old hits every summer from now on”. Not that I mind that in most instances. If only Aerosmith had gone out to pasture completely; we would have been spared Just Push Play and Honkin’ on Bobo.

To be fair, it often isn’t the fault of the musicians that this happens to them. Tom Petty didn’t really do anything to bring this on. His clientele became older, his studio albums became less important (and less good), and people stopped being interested in anything new he had to say. He didn’t consciously change his image or the music in the three years between Echo and The Last DJ, but his fans and the musical climate as a whole changed. They didn’t stop liking him, but they stopped liking anything written after 1995.

The Last DJ had a minor hit with, you guessed it, “The Last DJ”, which saw intermittent classic rock radio airplay in the fall of 2002. By and large, the album vanished, only leaving behind a trail of scathing reviews. So did Tom Petty actually release something worthwhile after we all stopped listening?

Should it be forgotten?

Short answer: yes. The album starts with the title track, “The Last DJ”, which I mentioned provided the only minor hit from the album. It is the best song on the album (which we’ll learn isn’t saying much), but it certainly doesn’t give the listener the kick they’re accustomed to from the lead single from a Tom Petty album.

The lyrics to this song, in retrospect, are incredibly shortsighted and dated. The song is about Petty lamenting the marginalization and death of the free-spinning FM disc jockey in the face of corporate radio. Petty sings in the chorus, “There goes your freedom of choice / There goes the last human voice / There goes the last DJ.” Keep in mind this was written and released in 2002, when there was no iTunes and your average slob was still not very Internet savvy. I understand Petty could not have known this would be coming, but the slow death of terrestrial radio and the advent of the Internet as a place to listen to and discover new music has been a godsend for new and oft-undiscovered bands trying to get their music out there. I understand that corporate radio sucks, but anyone who wants to listen to good music isn’t listening to it anyway. Petty is lamenting something that doesn’t require it, because as he is placing the wreath on the coffin of the goofy afternoon DJ, an entirely new crop of artists are taking advantage of that situation. It makes him look like an old fart.

But at least that song doesn’t fully embarrass himself. He gets to that over the next few songs. “Money Becomes King” follows, which is about a simpler time, when money didn’t rule the world, man. This song would be blush-inducing to the most corporation-hating of hippies. ”Dreamville” follows, which finally provides a song that isn’t terrible. It uses a horn section nicely and its structure is nice, but it continues the ham fisted procession of “I wish it was the old days” tunes.

Then we have “Joe”. Allmusic.com calls it “easily the worst song he’s ever written”, though I came to that conclusion before I read their review. This song could not want to be Pink Floyd’s “Money” more. I actually somewhat appreciated the staggered riff of the chorus, but Petty trying to be the champion of the downtrodden little-guy musician is so fucking lame.

In listening to these first four tracks, with this sappy morose yearning for the good old days (“when entertainment was bland and inoffensive”, according to Abraham Simpson), I began to think that maybe Petty did have a hand in dating himself. Though I think that transformation took hold before this record came out, anyone that was left thirsting for new Petty must have been quickly turned away by these utterly joyless and soulless songs.

Finally, finally, we get a boring but palatable track with “When a Kid Goes Bad”, with a nice sounding bluesy intro riff nearly ruined by a lame chorus. Nondescript songs continue to come and go from here, ranging from listenable to putrid. “Like a Diamond” and “You and Me” are nice enough, but are so light and airy that I began daydreaming while listening, and not about anything good.

“The Man Who Loves Women” mixes Paul Anka with the Beatles’ “When I’m Sixty-Four”, with predictably mixed results. I guess my question is, why? This song is about a guy who goes on a lot of dates. He’s a real Casanova. OK. So what? It’s not subtle and it doesn’t say anything. Why the fuck should I care?

The Last DJ tries way too hard and his theses throughout the album are so embarrassingly on the nose and done to death that they have no meaning. It does pick up slightly towards its conclusion, but there’s such a back and forth of passable and crap to that point that it’s hard to get worked up about it. This album stars an unmotivated Petty, short on ideas and shorter on the will to make them work. Honestly, I don’t ever envision hearing these songs again.

D

John Lacey

The Random Ten #8

Alice in Chains - “I Stay Away” - Jar of Flies

A rock radio hit that still gets a lot of airplay to this day, “I Stay Away” is one of Alice in Chains’ most ambitious, unconventional songs. It opens with some beautiful 12-string acoustic guitar work and melodic vocals, before the pre-chorus kicks in with a really trippy, almost demonic-sounding riff with some equally sinister vocals. The chorus of the song is one of AiC’s best, with Layne belting it out over synthesized strings and loud, open-chord guitars. Cantrell’s solo is also one of his best on this track. Essential for any fans of majestic, epic 90’s rock.

Borknagar - “Oceans Rise” - The Archaic Course

One of Norway’s oft-overlooked and underappreciated black metal bands (although I’d use that term loosely to describe them), Borknagar really reached new heights with their third album, The Archaic Course. The addition of Simon Haestenes, a.k.a. ICS Vortex, on bass and lead vocals really took them to new heights, as his clean singing ability was superior to previous vocalist Garm, and the band’s songwriting also reached new heights. The opening track from The Archaic Course, “Oceans Rise” isn’t the fastest or heaviest song the band has ever recorded, but it’s arguably their most powerful. This is in part to Vortex’s amazing multitracked vocals, and the catchy, melodic riffing throughout. The somber acoustic outro is simple yet beautiful.

Killswitch Engage - “This Fire” - WWE Wreckless Intent

If you’re a fan of current-day WWE, you’ll recognize this as CM Punk’s theme song. A song recorded during the sessions for the band’s fourth album, “This Fire” is probably the best B-Side KsE has done, and is better than some of the weaker songs on As Daylight Dies. Featuring (surprisingly… not) some harshly sung verses, a cleanly sung chorus, and a brutal bridge, it sounds like a lot of other KsE tracks, but the riffs are crushing and it’s one of their better songs.

Carcass - “This Is Your Life” - Heartwork

A bonus track on later versions of Heartwork and from the Heartwork EP, “This Is Your Life” showed what direction Carcass was to head in on their final album, Swansong. The mix of death metal vocals with a pretty standard hard rock beat and structure was nothing entirely new, but never had the riffs and drumming seemed so simple. A step in the wrong direction according to some fans, but I’ve always found their “Death ‘N Roll” sound quite enjoyable, and this is a great heavy rock track.

Opeth - “Heir Apparent” - Watershed

Watershed opens with one of Opeth’s shortest, most mellow songs in “Coil,” which features just keyboards, acoustic guitars, and male and female vocals. The track ends with a dissonant keyboard note that ends up transitioning into “Heir Apparent,” arguably the group’s heaviest song of all time. The one-two punch of such a melodic, mellow track going into one of the band’s heaviest riffs is an incredible dynamic, and this song is full of great transitions and parts. There’s an almost black metal part with minor chord strummings and keyboards, there’s a trippy acoustic sequence, and the ending is a majestic, melodic piece that’s quintessential Opeth, but still unique enough to feel like it’s never been done before. I always fear new releases from Opeth, as they constantly seem to top themselves (okay, maybe Deliverance was a bit of a disappointment, but the companion album Damnation was simply incredible; you can’t expect a band recording two albums at the same time to have a complete winner in every track), and Watershed was no exception.

Public Enemy - “He Got Game” - He Got Game

Public Enemy’s last “hit” (although that’s a bit of a stretch), “He Got Game” is incredibly low-key for PE standards. Featuring a guest appearance from Steven Stills (who wrote the Buffalo Springfield track “For What It’s Worth” that “He Got Game” samples throughout), the song is a good mix of a rock classic with a new spin on it by Chuck D and an uncharacteristically understated Flavor Flav. I’m a big PE fan, and while this is definitely a big one-off for the group, it’s a great track.

Iron Maiden - “The Wicker Man” - Brave New World

The song that re-started Maiden’s career and brought them back into the hardrock and metal spotlight (due mostly in part to the return of vocalist Bruce Dickinson), “The Wicker Man” didn’t reinvent the Maiden sound by any stretch, but it also sounded fresh and exciting, something the band hadn’t really done since Seventh Son… in 1988. The also-returning Adrian Smith’s solo on this track is one of my favorites, and the song has become a bit of a live favorite. A great, uptempo rocker from the excellent Brave New World.

In Flames - “Square Nothing” - Clayman

Clayman is usually seen as In Flames’ last great album or their first step downhill. I personally never got the criticism. It was a little more stripped down than Colony, but no less melodic or heavy. “Square Nothing” is the most dynamic track on the album, due to the great clean opening and awesome acoustic bridge. When the song finally kicks in with the line “Spend some quality time/with my borrowed smile…” its impact is tremendous. This song has been largely forgotten by the band, probably due to its layers of guitars that make it almost impossible to do justice in the live setting, and that’s really unfortunate. Probably my favorite track from Clayman, “Square Nothing” is a perfect encapsulation of In Flames’ classic take on the Gothenburg sound.

Voivod - “Nothing Face” - Nothingface

Voivod are another band who rarely repeated themselves, and Nothingface was by far their most melodic, experimental album upon its release. Gone was the thrashing apparent on earlier classics like Rrroooaaarrr and War & Pain; in its place were almost funky grooves, atmospheric riffing and mind-boggling technicality. Voivod were always great musicians and innovators, but they really took it to a new level with Nothingface, and the almost-title-track, “Nothing Face” is a perfect example. Also features what is Voivod’s catchiest chorus ever.

Nirvana - “On a Plain” - Nevermind

If you’ve never heard Nevermind, you’re missing out on a hard rock landmark. “On a Plain” is a great song from an even greater album. One of the more straightforward tracks on the album, it doesn’t get too out there with instrumental breakdowns, it’s mostly vocals and pounding drums and guitars throughout, but it’s got a great melody and a chorus that fades out into some great harmonizing between Cobain and drummer Dave Grohl. One of my favorite Nirvana songs, although the MTV Unplugged version is even more effective with its slowed-down tempo and obviously quieter guitars.

Matt Steele

The Dailies 4/13/09: A Whole Lotta Guns!

Welcome back to another edition of The Dailies. God bless Netflix. Remember the days when we were at the mercy of the video store? The “new releases” lining the walls, with the top and bottom shelves reserved for the latest Corbin Bernsen direct-to-video erotic thriller? It’s amazing how far we’ve come. Perhaps one of today’s entries could still be found at your local Blockbuster, but Netflix is the only place you’d find the other one (other than downloading it illegally online, which I would never do). Upcoming in my Netflix queue: Henry Fonda in Fail-Safe, adult fairy tale Pan’s Labyrinth, and all seven glorious games of the 1979 World Series! What an age we live in.

I digress. Let’s get to the flicks.

Il Grande Silenzio (The Great Silence) (1968)
Director: Sergio Corbucci
Principle actors: Klaus Kinski, Jean-Louis Trintignant, Frank Wolff, Vonetta McGee

Il Grande Silenzio, or The Great Silence, is perhaps the bleakest and grittiest spaghetti Western I have ever seen. This is not achieved through landscape and surroundings; the Sergio Leone Westerns and others I’ve seen take place in areas more desolate than those depicted in this film. The Great Silence is so bleak and dark because its characters are so well-defined. The villains are cruel and heartless. The hero is vengeful but stoic. This character definition jolts us during the film’s final scenes, perhaps the most unhappy in Western history.

The film is set in Snowhill, Utah, a lawless area patrolled by bounty hunters, who murder “outlaws” indiscriminately and are handsomely rewarded for their crimes. The outlaws they hunt down and kill are locals who made the trespass of stealing a loaf of bread to feed their families, or who decided not to join up with the murderous gang. That is to say, the outlaws really aren’t outlaws at all.

The bounty killers are led by Loco, played by Klaus Kinski. He’s a smooth talker with a ruggedly handsome face, but this demeanor masks an evil scoundrel. We’re introduced to him as he ropes a victim by the neck and drags him along with his horse. Loco is trying to get the man to give up the other outlaws. When the man finally relents, Loco thanks him for the information and shoots him through the chest.

Kinski has played a megalomaniacal madman in several films, notably in his collaborations with famed German director Werner Herzog. Though it might seem like this material would call for a similar performance, Kinski plays it relatively straight here. He’s a cool and collected murderer; a nice antithesis to the hero. The film benefits because of this.

And what would a spaghetti Western be without a strong hero? The Great Silence has one of the best. The hero’s name is Silence, because, well, he’s a mute. We get a flashback of Silence as a young boy witnessing the bounty killers of the time killing his parents. One moves to kill the boy, but the ringleader intervenes. He has a nastier idea; cut his vocal chords out. The film thankfully spares us the details.

In researching the film for this review, I found that director Corbucci wanted to make a Western that took the conventions of the genre to the extreme and turn some of them on their heads. Since most Western heroes don’t talk much, why bother having this one talk at all? It’s amazing how well the film works despite what would seem like a tremendous handicap. Some of the burden is lifted by the sheriff of Snowhill, Frank Wolff, who provides the dialogue when a “good guy” needs a line.

Corbucci is known for his vast array of “spaghetti’s”, of which I’ve only seen a couple. Another, his Django (1966), is hailed as one of the finest and most grim spaghetti Westerns ever made. I didn’t see it that way. The action was hokey, the acting was poor, and, unbelievably, the hero actually wants to give up the life of a gunslinger to settle down with a dame! That’s not a Western!

Violence alone does not a good Western make. Although The Great Silence is indeed very violent, Django was much more graphic, and lo and behold, it wasn’t very good. The violence isn’t the show in The Great Silence. It works with the acting, strong archetypical characters, and the wonderfully simplistic storyline. These things are vital to a good Western, and The Great Silence has them all.

I started this review by talking about how bleak this film is. Indeed, the tone of the film is very dark and dreadful. Even in snow-covered landscapes, the film is dim, often shot by candlelight. The evil bounty hunters are dirty and grimy and kill at will. The score is not heroic and upbeat, but tense and sharp. Even the English dubbing of the actors is off-putting (though never distracting) and adds to the mood.

And finally, the ending. This is perhaps the most unhappy, downtrodden ending ever put to film. I give Corbucci a lot of credit for ending his film in the way he did, even though I instinctively resisted such an ending. It must be seen to be believed. The end of the film is just one reason why The Great Silence was able to carve a respectable niche out for itself amidst a sea of look-alikes.

B+

Lord of War (2005)
Director: Andrew Nichol
Principle actors: Nicolas Cage, Jared Leto, Bridget Moynahan, Ethan Hawke, Eamonn Walker

The writers and creators of Lord of War got greedy. They had on their hands a great film about gun running and its contribution to the creation of some of the shitholes we have in Asia and Africa, and perhaps even some of the situations we have in America. We have strong actors here (excluding black hole Bridget Moynahan) and an intrinsically interesting and relevant story. Unfortunately, the film tries to do way too much and overextends itself needlessly and recklessly. Lord of War gets bogged down in foolish sentimentalism and humanity in a film that doesn’t need those feelings. It shuns them in one scene, and then tries to reintroduce them in the next. The dichotomy fails.

I want to state that I like Nicolas Cage. He’s a solid actor, and it seems like none of the bombs he’s in (and there are plenty) end up sticking to him. He’s been great in some films (The Weather Man, Matchstick Men, Adaptation.) and in others he’s hilariously over the top (Con Air). He’s by far the best thing about Lord of War, and the film would be truly dreadful if it weren’t for his performance.

Cage plays a Ukrainian, Yuri Orlov, living in New York City with his parents and younger brother (Leto). Russian mafia violence occurs in his neighborhood on a daily basis, and one day he sees a couple of hit men get taken out by their presumed target in a local bar. It hits him like a ton of bricks; why don’t I get into that?

The film from that point is a whirlwind of gun smuggling, gun dealing, backroom handshakes, cocaine, and maniacal warlords. The film doesn’t waste a lot of time bringing Cage from a newbie in the gun world to its ultimate force, perhaps to its detriment.

The best scenes of the film are Cage (and sometimes Leto) narrowly avoiding being caught red handed smuggling their cache of weapons into different countries. Ethan Hawke plays an Interpol agent named Jack Valentine who is constantly hounding and following Cage. In one scene, Cage and Leto are on a freighter filled with guns. They receive a tip that Hawke is hot on their trail, so they paint a new name on the boat, fly a different flag over it, and radio a fake tip that the boat Interpol is looking for is 100 miles away. In another scene, Cage has a military helicopter modified so that it appears to be for humanitarian use, right before Valentine arrives to arrest him.

Lord of War also brings Cage into various African nations, and he becomes associates with the bloodthirsty warlord of Liberia, Andre Baptiste Sr. (a thinly-veiled reference to former Liberian warlord and ruler Charles Taylor). It is truly enjoyable and fascinating to watch the relationship between Cage and Baptiste (played by Eamonn Walker in a nice part). It’s simple; Cage provides guns and Baptiste loves to shoot them. It becomes much more complicated than that.

Like I mentioned, however, Lord of War tries to be two movies. We have the heartless and completely immoral Cage performing his services as a gun runner and looking indifferently towards the poor people who are being slaughtered with his merchandise. The other movie concerns Cage’s family (his wife, primarily) and tries to use his family as a mirror to reflect Cage’s descent into moral bankruptcy.

Cage’s wife, Bridget Moynahan, and their son serve only to show Cage’s rudeness and scumminess in the most on-the-nose ways possible. For instance, when his son is taking his first steps, Moynahan tells him frantically to watch. Cage is preoccupied with the news reports of the fall of the Soviet Union (meaning more business for him), and doesn’t turn to look. Later, he’s on the phone with her and hangs up without responding to “I love you”. It’s so easy that it’s embarrassing.

The movie wants to have its cake and eat it too. It shoehorns sentimentality and morality into Cage’s character where it simply doesn’t belong. He’s built up throughout the film as an embodiment of immorality. So when he cries at his brother’s death (sorry) or reacts negatively to his wife leaving him (again, sorry), we don’t care. He’s been so ruthless and so detached the entire film that we don’t believe he would care about these things.

When Lord of War is dealing with an acerbic Cage involved in international wheelings and dealings and corrupt heads of state, it works. When it delves into sentimentality, it fails miserably. We’ll call it…

C+

John Lacey

The Simpsons Project #5

The Simpsons Project Case #5 (Season 1, Episode 5)
Bart the General
Original airdate: 2/4/90

Welcome back to another Simpsons Project! Today, we look at “Bart the General”, which may be the only episode in the history of the series not to start with its trademark opening. We’re coming up on the end of the Simpsons Project; only about 5,000 more episodes to go!

“Bart the General” opens with Lisa preparing cupcakes for her teacher, Ms. Hoover. Both Homer and Bart attempt to snipe a cupcake from Lisa unsuccessfully, and Bart bickers with her throughout the bus ride to school about it. Bart’s attitude changes, however, when they arrive at school and the cupcakes are stolen by one of school bully Nelson Muntz’s henchmen. Bart defends Lisa’s honor and tries to get the cupcakes back, which draws the ire of Muntz, the toughest and meanest kid in the school.

Nelson pledges to administer a beating to Bart at the end of the school day while Principal Skinner looks on uncaringly. Two brilliant dream sequences follow. In the first, Bart envisions his afternoon showdown with Nelson. He dreams of Nelson as an unstoppable, invincible giant who finishes the confrontation by swallowing Bart whole. In his second dream, Bart sees his friends and family at his hypothetical funeral (Homer, characteristically, is happy because he gets the day out of work). Both sequences are very well done. They really served well, in the early days of the show, in displaying Bart and Lisa’s vibrant yet juvenile imaginations. Like most children, both Bart and Lisa daydream about ridiculous scenarios that are couched in reality, like the ones mentioned above.

Bart takes the beating that afternoon, and Nelson pledges to beat him up every day at the same time. Bart turns to his parents for help. Marge tells him to reason with the bully and try to be understanding. Homer begins his long run of hilariously shitty fathering by imploring Bart not to tell the principal (“What? And violate the code of the schoolyard? I’d rather Bart die!”) and trying to train him in the art of fighting dirty. Needless to say, Homer’s advice fails, and the beatings continue.

Bart then visits Grampa Simpson to ask what he thinks. Grampa, in turn, introduces Bart to one-armed Herman, owner of the military surplus store in Springfield. Herman, who coincidentally never really had another starring role on a Simpsons episode, save for the episode when Marge became a police officer, provides some real gems here. He immediately begins planning how Bart can defeat Nelson in combat, complete with military training for the neighborhood kids and detailed tactical strategies.

The plan is simple; Bart and his army will essentially corner Nelson and bombard him with water balloons. It works to perfection. Nelson is defeated and humbled by the neighborhood kids. Herman develops an armistice treaty to prevent Nelson from killing Bart in the future (“Though Nelson has no official power, he shall remain a figurehead of menace in the neighborhood”), and the episode ends with Nelson, Herman and the Simpsons family eating cupcakes together, with Nelson and Bart apparently friendly.

I really enjoyed the military strategy of the episode and the juxtaposition of complex maneuvering being carried out by ten year old kids. The models that Herman creates of downtown Springfield are fantastic, and Grampa has a great soliloquy about how he feels alive again watching the young children participate in neighborhood warfare.

The episode has a lot of great lines; too many for me to list in this review. There weren’t a lot of belly laughs, but Homer, Grampa and Herman all had some strong moments. “Bart the General” also builds well on “Bart the Genius” and continued to show us that Bart is not simply the wise-ass wild child that he was thought to be. All in all, a strong episode.

B+

“The key to Springfield has always been Elm St. The Greeks knew it. The Carthaginians knew it. Now you know it.” – Herman, to Bart

John Lacey

Mastodon - Crack the Skye

Mastodon
Crack the Skye
Reprise 2009

People made a big stink about the fact that this album was going to be produced by 90’s rock production guru Brendan O’Brien (STP, Pearl Jam, etc.), just like people made a big stink about Blood Mountain being released on a major label. Well, Blood Mountain still sounded like Mastodon, and still kicked major ass. The question remains, does its follow-up, Crack the Skye, do the same?

Opening with the ominous guitar tones of “Oblivion,” it was evident from the get-go that this is still recognizably Mastodon, if not a big more subdued. With its verses sung by drummer Brann Dailor, “Oblivion” sets itself apart from any other song in the Mastodon catalogue almost immediately. Dailor’s voice is not the raspy, twangy sound that guitarist Brend Hinds presents behind the mic, nor is it the deep, soulful bellow that bassist Troy Sanders has displayed. Dailor sounds more like a laid back Josh Homme type of singer, and it fits the vibe of “Oblivion” perfectly. Sanders sings the powerful pre-chorus, before it erupts into what is arguably the best, most memorable chorus Mastodon has ever laid down, sung by Hinds. This song is just a huge, catchy prog-rock song that is simple in structure, but deep in riffs and melody.

“Divinations,” the first single and second track, is the song that most resembles older, heavier Mastodon. A straight-forward rocker with growling Hinds vocals during the verses, the chorus boasts a cleaner-than-usual Sanders vocal, but one that’s extremely catchy and powerful. A great riff-rocker, “Divinations” is a great bridge between the old and new Mastodon.

“Quintessence” did not impress me much at first, as it had the trademark Hinds pull-off guitar licks that bordered on country, interspersed with a rocking Sanders-sung chorus, before a trippy, melodic middle section. At first, the song felt sort of all over the place, but upon repeated listens it becomes more of a cohesive, flowing number.

The fourth track, “The Czar” clocks in at 10:54. I wasn’t too worried though, as my favorite Mastodon song, “Hearts Alive” from Leviathan is about 14 minutes long, and never boring. “The Czar” also falls into this category, opening with producer O’Brien on the organ, bleeding into a clean arpeggiated guitar line that is accompanied by a haunting Hinds vocal warning of an impending assassination. The song explodes just a few minutes in, into the funkiest and most rocking riff on the entire album. This song is divided in the liner notes into 4 separate movements not unlike a classical piece, except this is a classical piece of hard rock/metal/progressive genius. This song could be the best that the band has ever written. It has everything a Mastodon fan could want – intensity, adventurousness, catchiness and just flat-out ROCK.

“Ghost of Karelia” opens with a riff not unlike the intro to Blood Mountain’s “Sleeping Giant,” but more upbeat. The almost monk-like chanting vocal line that accompanies the main riff is eerie, and fits the vibe of this mellow song. Sanders’ upper-neck bass lines are a highlight of this song, as is Dailor’s understated cymbal work on the drums. This is probably Sanders’ strongest song as a singer, especially around the 1:45 mark when the riffs get considerably darker and heavier. On past albums he would have growled unintelligibly, but he has grown into a clear, powerful enunciator who can more than hold his own on the mic. When Hinds comes in at 2:35 on the mic, it reminds you of the way Staley and Cantrell complemented each other’s distinct voices in Alice in Chains.

“Crack the Skye” opens with clean, arpeggiated guitars that end up giving way to guest vocalist Scott Kelly’s dark bellow. The lyrics allude to Dailor’s sister Skye, who committed suicide at the age of 14. This is by far the heaviest song on the album, both musically and subject-wise. Kelly’s voice goes well with the down-tuned chugging riffs, and Sanders’ Ozzy-esque clean vocals that trade off really fit the creepy tone of the song. Hinds also lays down one of his best solos on this track, laying off of his crazy country-influenced “chicken pickin’” and focusing more on soulful, bending notes.

Closing track, “The Last Baron” is also the longest on the album at 13:00. Opening with acoustic guitars (and possibly banjo), this is a trippy, psychedelic rocker that is very Floyd-meets-Sabbath in style. Hinds’ lead guitar work is another highlight of this song, as is his lead vocal performance, which is also Ozzy-esque. This song has just layers upon layers of guitar tracks during the atmospheric parts, but strips it down when it picks up the pace. This is another great song that never gets boring, and certainly doesn’t feel like a 13-minute epic. Definitely a great way to close out the album.

Wrapping up, I can easily say this is the best album I’ve heard in 2009. It’s certainly Mastodon’s most mellow, experimental album, but it is never boring, and always captivating. I was confused and mesmerized by my first listen, but now after my 4th time through the entire album I can say this is almost on par with Leviathan, my favorite Mastodon offering. Definitely worth hearing if you’re into any kind of hard rock that isn’t afraid to push boundaries. Highly recommended.

A

Matt Steele

Shit from the 90s #2: Those Annoying Dancing Flowers!

(Owen Murphy is a featured writer for the Musicarium who will be contributing columns every so often. He might attend BC Law School! He’s also cooler than Dan Baxter.)

The year was 1992; the Danny Tartabull experiment was underway in New York, Danny DeVito captured our hearts as the Penguin in Batman Returns, and a new and promising administration was taking the reigns in Washington. Yes, there certainly was cause for celebration, and what more hilarious way to convey these feelings of joy and optimism than to pop some Right Said Fred (“I’m Too Sexy” hit number one on the charts in 1992) into the tape deck and switch on one of those pointless annoying dancing flower toy things.

Interested in capturing the title of "funny guy at the office?" In search of a novelty item to create small talk near the DJ booth at a party? Seeking a way to tell others, "Hey! I'm a fruity jerk!?" There were a million reasons manufacturers suggested that we purchase this item, but after careful contemplation I am pretty sure those are the only three plausible examples of why anyone would.

The pointless annoying dancing flower toy thing, defying all logic, became a popular item in the early 90's and I'm not sure anyone knows how. Essentially, this battery powered waste of good Ninja Turtle plastic was equipped with a small motor, initiated by a music recognition device that propelled the plastic flower portion of the toy to sway back and forth, in a "clever" attempt to suggest the activity of dance. To the device's demographic; small children, dim witted yokels, and lonely old people, the device proved amusing for no more than 2-3 minutes at which point it was placed in the back of an attic and forgotten about forever.

I think the best way to draw out that last point is by making an allusion to The Simpsons. Some of you might recall the episode where Homer's brother, Herb Powell, seeks both temporary housing and a business loan from Homer. Herb had become homeless after squandering his fortune by allowing Homer to design a concept car for his once profitable automobile company. Anyways, Herb eventually comes up with a great invention, and during his business presentation places on the table a plastic bird which perpetually bobs up and down above a small bowl of water as if it were drinking. Of course, Homer mistakes this plastic bird as Herb's invention and goes on to declare it a work of genius; the joke being that Homer is easily amused and that any reasonably minded person would tire of this item instantly. The entertainment value of The Simpsons’ drinking bird and the dancing flower thing are quintessentially one and the same.

As computer technology became more commonplace to the American household in the mid 90's, the jig was up for the dancing flower. Retailers across the country moved the item into discount bins in a last ditch attempt to bait any morons that might have been in a coma throughout the three previous years... it didn't work. Eventually the devices were pulled from shelves completely, and one can only hope, set ablaze in a dumpster somewhere.

Dancing flowers in action: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nr3eDTRCSxQ.

Owen Murphy