The Random Ten #10

Black Sabbath - “The Sign of the Southern Cross” - Mob Rules (1981)

One of the few Dio-era Sabbath tracks that captures the doomy, eerie vibe of some of the darker Ozzy-era compositions, “Sign of the Southern Cross” is probably my second-favorite Dio-era track (behind “Heaven and Hell”, of course). Opening with a minor key acoustic guitar arpeggio and Dio’s subtle, understated vocals, the song erupts about a minute and a half in, into one of Tony Iommi’s heaviest, strongest riffs. Vinny Appice’s work on the drums is solid and as a rock, not as unpredictable or free-form as Bill Ward, but just as explosive. I think this lineup of Sabbath really hit their stride on this album, but it’s a shame they imploded shortly afterwards (before reuniting in 1992 for the underrated Dehumanizer album). This lineup of the band is now touring and recording under the Heaven & Hell moniker, and they just released The Devil You Know, an album I look forward to checking out. If you’re a fan of Ozzy-era Sabbath but haven’t heard too much with Dio on vocals, start with “Sign of the Southern Cross.”

Anthrax - “Lone Justice” - Spreading the Disease (1985)

Opening with a punky, manic bass riff from then-new addition to the band, Frank Bello, “Lone Justice” is a solid, punky metal tune. It’s hard to think that Spreading… was the first album with their new bassist and also-new vocalist Joey Belladonna, as the band sounded completely tight and seasoned, having worked out the kinks and rust they displayed on debut Fistful of Metal. I’m more partial to this album’s follow-up, Among the Living, but Spreading is a great record through-and-through, and “Lone Justice” is a song full of some great riffs and great energy.

Opeth - “Windowpane” - The Roundhouse Tapes (2007)

“Time for the song that will get us chicks backstage,” opens vocalist Mikael Akerfeldt before this live rendition of the opening track from the all-mellow Damnation album. Damnation is one of my favorite albums of all time, sounding almost nothing like any other Opeth album, as it’s their one release barred of any death metal, or any metal in general. It’s solid progressive, folky rock throughout. This version of “Windowpane” doesn’t sound too differently than the studio version, but it’s a great performance, and is even more impressive when you realize that Akerfeldt screams his way through the majority of the band’s songs, yet he can throw this in the middle of a set and still sound great. New drummer, Axe, might not have the subtlety or touch of Martin Lopez from the studio version, but he doesn’t overpower the song either. If you like Opeth’s mellower material but can’t stand the death metal vocals, check this song out.

Rage Against the Machine - “Year of tha Boomerang” - Evil Empire (1996)

Tom Morello opens this with a nails-against-the-chalkboard sounding guitar riff, before Zach De la Rocha starts rapping with his signature flow. This song isn’t one of my favorites from Rage, and it’s from what is probably the weakest of their three studio albums, as there’s no real big instrumental or vocal hook to latch onto, although the explosive middle section around 1:35 is fun to listen to. The verses just seem a little repetitive and not too captivating as opposed to some of their earlier or later material. Decent track, but not the best thing Rage has done.

Cradle of Filth - “The Promise of Fever” - Damnation and a Day (2003)

Remember when Cradle of Filth were signed to a major label? Well, it didn’t last too long, so I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t. Back in 2003, after some successful stints on Ozzfest, Cradle of Filth were picked up by Epic records. Fans were afraid of a drastic toning down in their over-the-top style of theatrical blackened metal, and first single “Babylon A.D.” was very much that. However, one listen to the rest of the album, beginning with first proper track “The Promise of Fever” showed that Cradle hadn’t sold out by any means, and had just gotten a bigger budget to record their patented sound at a much higher quality. While I don’t think this album was nearly as good as its predecessor, Midian, “The Promise of Fever” is one of the band’s best (and last truly great) songs. For fans only, as Cradle of Filth are the epitome of an “acquired taste” band.

Foo Fighters - “See You” - The Colour and the Shape (1997)

One of the things I love about The Colour… is the usage of little “ditties” in between the longer, rocking songs. “See You” is one such ditty, as it’s a folky, acoustic-based number that leads into “Enough Space,” which is one of my favorite underrated Foo tracks. On its own, the song is nothing special, but it just shows the diversity with which Dave Grohl can write a song. In the context of the album it works much better, but on its own, it’s nothing too special.

Megadeth - “In My Darkest Hour” - So Far, So Good, So What?!! (1988)

This song was immortalized in The Decline of Western Civilization Pt. 2, and for good reason – it was the only song/band featured in the movie that didn’t reek of cheese-balls. This was Megadeth’s first “ballad” of sorts, even though it’s pretty heavy throughout. Mustaine wrote the music upon the passing of his friend and former band-mate Cliff Burton (Metallica), even though the lyrics deal with lost love (see: immortal line, “You just laughed, ‘Ha, Ha!’ You bitch!”). This song made So Far… Megadeth’s biggest album yet (which was blown away by subsequent releases), and made them into worldwide superstars. The song is dynamic and full of great riffs, tempo changes and solos, and even though the reverb-soaked production reeks of the 1980s, the song itself is timeless, and an all-time hard rock classic. If you haven’t heard this song and you consider yourself a fan of metal and rock, check it out IMMEDIATELY.

Oasis - “Little by Little” - Heathen Chemistry (2002)

I feel this album gets overlooked a great deal when examining the Oasis catalogue, and that’s kind of a shame, as “Little by Little” is one of their better ballads. I tend to enjoy the ballads when they are sung by guitarist/main songwriter Noel Gallagher, as opposed to his frontman brother Liam, and this song showcases Noel’s emotive vocals quite nicely. Featuring classic nonsensical lines like, “You know I didn’t mean/what I just said/but my god woke up on the wrong side of his bed”, “Little by Little” has that signature Oasis-ness to it, and while a song like this might sound boring or stock in another band’s hands, the Gallagher bros. and co. make it work.

In Flames - “Metaphor” - Reroute to Remain (2002)

I was a bit apprehensive when this album was released, as the band talked a lot about experimentation with clean vocals and electronic instrumentation in preceding interviews, and coming off the streak of 4 incredible albums in a row – The Jester Race, Whoracle, Colony, Clayman – I didn’t think In Flames would be able to live up to their past glories. Well, I was right. This album isn’t terrible, but it hasn’t actually aged well, either. It brought them to their greatest popularity in the US, but they dumbed-down their sound a great deal on the heavier material. I do respect them, however, for bold experiments like “Metaphor,” an acoustic song that has a lead fiddle playing over the choruses. Musically, it fits in with some of their acoustic interludes from past tunes, but they made a full song out of that sound here, and it actually works a little bit (even if the clean vocals are slightly lacking). I kind of like “Metaphor,” as it was a bold step in a new direction, whereas they played it way too safely with the heavier songs from this album.

Iced Earth - “Angels Holocaust” - Night of the Stormrider (1992)

The opening track from what is probably my favorite Iced Earth release, “Angels Holocaust” is over-the-top, theatrical, bombastic power/thrash metal, that brings to mind epic battle scenes. As the band matured, they dropped some of their overtly gothic, European-tinged influences for a more hard rock/thrash approach, but this album is a perfect example of a band that did their own thing and created a progressive, experimental masterpiece. This song is just epic part after epic part, without too many refrains or a chorus, but it still feels cohesive. This is the original recorded version, not the re-record with Matt Barlow on vocals from Days of Purgatory, and while Barlow is a more versatile vocalist, you can’t beat the original performance by John Greely, whose screams and singing have a rough edge that Barlow didn’t quite possess (though Barlow certainly proved himself as the voice for Iced Earth, eventually being brought back into the fold in 2008 after the departure of Tim “Ripper” Owens).

Matt Steele

The Undisputeds: The National - Alligator

Welcome to a new column, The Undisputeds, where we'll be looking at our favorite albums of all time. In the interest of simultaneously broadening my horizons , I'll also be branching out and covering some records that are considered the best albums of all time, but that I'm relatively unfamiliar with, so expect reviews of Stevie Wonder and James Brown albums soon.

In the meantime, I thought we'd start with a tremendous album from Brooklyn-based indie rockers The National. Alligator was released in 2005 and marked the band's third studio album, and it also catapulted them into (relative) stardom. Following Alligator, the band headlined their first tour, and the follow up to this album, Boxer (2007), climbed to #68 on the Billboard charts and garnered the band mainstream exposure.

The National
Alligator
2005 Beggars Banquet

Alligator is an album with a memory. It's not a hazy memory; it doesn't speak in terms of those same rehashed teenage summers from long ago that many bands fall back on. Its nostalgia is poignant and direct, sharp and vivid. Alligator is a haunting and lonely record, but you're not alone when you're listening to it. Alligator shares its vividness and lucidness with the listener and invites them to create their own mental music video from their own memories. For that, it's one of the most engaging and oddly exciting records I've ever heard.

The opener, "Secret Meeting", sets the tremendous tone for the record. The arrangements on this song, like on most of the album, are conventional but nearly always beautiful. Everything fits together wonderfully. Nothing is ever forced on Alligator; words aren't pigeonholed, the timing's never off, one instrument isn't garnering all of the attention. Everything works.

"Karen", perhaps the album's best song, is punctuated by a slightly melancholic piano piece that echoes in the memory. "Karen" is one of those songs where you rewind to the beginning after the first two verses to hear them again, because they're so well done. The lyrics, about a quarreling couple who don't seem to like each other at all but depend on one another to stave off loneliness, are brilliant, touching, and reflective, like most of the record.

Alligator occasionally changes tones, but never direction. "Lit Up" evokes shades of early 80s post-punk bands with a more forceful guitar riff and chorus, and the album continues to bounce around in style without losing any of its focus.

The album is very good at conjuring up old flames, old places, old ways. But that's not the point. Alligator looks back, but it does it without remorse or regret. It doesn't dote; it just sees things for what they are (or were), collects itself, and moves on. Its songs are on the melancholy side, but there is genuine optimism on the record. Alligator takes the bittersweet angle, unashamedly thinking about the past while celebrating the unknown to come.

Despite the common mood the songs create, each is distinct. "Daughters of the SoHo Riots" is a slower tune with a soft piano accompaniment that moves along freely and easily. The album occasionally bursts forth with energy, as on "Baby, We'll Be Fine", without ever compromising its aura. Even when it's louder, it's still subdued.

"Baby, We'll Be Fine" is a mesmerizing song about a man trying to understand how to live the right way, and narrowing it down to "putting on an argyle sweater and putting on a smile". Guitar harmonies interact with violins to create an incredible and beautiful atmosphere that takes us into the mind of the protagonist.

Speaking of guitar harmonies, I've always felt that riffs are vital to an album's success, and the National's are so memorable, yet so unlike anything else I've heard. They're abrupt, unobtrusive, and layered, and create a unique but similar atmosphere around each of the songs. This isn't the ultra-catchy guitar part repeating over and over again (though, occasionally, that has its merits). This is more like an aural river that keeps flowing with the same steady calm, song after song.

The vocals are performed by Matt Berninger, and he is the pacesetter of the album. He's not a terribly exciting singer, and his baritone voice may take a bit of getting used to for new listeners. But his subdued tone fits in perfectly with the cheery melancholy of the music on the record.

"All The Wine" features a sunny guitar part that mimics the conceited lyrics, spoken from the point of view of a man who thinks he's the bee's knees ("I'm a festival, I'm a parade", he sings). "Abel" follows and lets loose a bit, again incorporating a touch of abrasiveness to the proceedings. Alligator is never thrown off a bit by this, and the different styles are incorporated seamlessly and for just the right length of time.

"The Geese of Beverly Road" opens with string and horns that evoke ambient artist Brian Eno's "The Big Ship", from his Another Green World album (which will turn up in this column sooner or later). It's such a perfect sound that it immediately painted a picture in my head of a fall cityscape. This morphs into more delicate, intertwining guitar work and yet another awesome song.

One of Alligator's strengths is its ability to look at grandiose things like love and life in unconventional ways. "City Middle" remembers an old lover through some odd things she once said. The album often takes this approach, using what seem to be very obtuse lines which in truth are remembrances of nuances and the little things in life. It's a very human record in this way, because we all remember people and places by things that wouldn't normally be memorable, and even we have no idea what makes them so. I've never heard a record evoke this spirit more easily.

The final song on Alligator is "Mr. November". The song is sung from the point of view of a faded high school football player. He discusses his faults and failures in life, and then achingly sings, "I used to be carried in the arms of cheerleaders". It's a great line in a great song, and sums up the mood of the album perfectly. We all look back sometimes and think of what might have been. That's normal. The trick is not to wallow in it like Mr. November does.

John Lacey

Shit from the 90s #3: Tim Allen!

Hello, and welcome to another installment of Shit from the 90s. I was going to write about something worthwhile and actually good in this column for a change, but then I saw Jungle 2 Jungle playing on TV this morning, and the light went on above my head. Tim Allen! Is there anyone more distinctively 90s; a star that emerged in the decade and became one of its bigger stars, only to fizzle away into relative obscurity shortly thereafter? I say no.

I’m aware that Allen was a successful stand-up comic in the 70s and 80s, but he really started gaining attention from mainstream America when his perennial saccharine-sweet sitcom, Home Improvement, began in 1991. Home Improvement somehow managed to stay on the air for eight seasons and 200 episodes, despite not being funny. Episodes consisted of Allen making various grunting noises, either he or one of his sons learning a life lesson, his next-door neighbor giving him sage advice behind a tree, fence, or other perfectly positioned obstacle, and Tim making fun of his fat oaf co-worker. Storylines revolved around Tim upsetting his wife, his sons, or his friend and verbal punching bag Al Borland and trying to make amends by the end of the episode. Again, it wasn’t funny. But somehow, the series managed to land in the top ten in Neilsen rankings for each of its seasons, confirming the adage, “People are stupid”.

Not only was Home Improvement a runaway success (it also met the mid-90s benchmark for nationwide acceptance; a Super Nintendo game based on the series), but Allen became a mega-star and a household name. How this happened is beyond me; he’s a likable enough guy and he’s admittedly decent with a one-liner. His acting, however, fell somewhere between wooden and forced. Allen’s “everyman” persona always seemed like part of the character of Tim Taylor from Home Improvement, and not genuine, but the people at large didn’t see the distinction, and Allen was soon cast in a number of box office hits.

Nearly all of his ensuing films were the kind of comedies the whole family can enjoy. You know, bland, unremarkable, and inoffensive; the exact type of thing a stand-up comic is supposed to stay away from. I suppose, however, when they’re driving a dump truck full of money up to your house, you don’t really have much of a choice.

Anyway, his 90s film run began with The Santa Clause (1994, $144 million domestic), in which Allen transformed into Jolly Ol’ St. Nick himself. It continued with Toy Story (1995, $191.7 million domestic/Canada), at the time a state-of-the-art animated film that laid the groundwork for all of the 3-D animation we see today in films. The aforementioned Jungle 2 Jungle followed (1997, $60 million domestic), in which Allen, an uptight business executive, finds out he has a son who lives in the rainforest with his tribe, though he’s white and the rest of the tribe is clearly South/Native/whatever American. Finishing the decade, we got another Toy Story, For Richer or Poorer (an Amish send-up co-starring Kirstie Alley; yes, it’s awful) and Galaxy Quest (a Star Trek spoof).

Since the turn of the century, Allen’s career path has followed a similar trajectory to that of Chris Tucker’s. He comes out of hiding once in a while to do a Santa Clause sequel (one came in 2002, another in 2006), much like we only see Tucker in Rush Hour sequels now. He’s still a star, and he’s still a name, but he’s almost never in anything anymore and no one really cares when he is. There were no sex scandals or big box-office bombs to derail him (though he did get a DUI in 1997). People seem to like him well enough, and when a new Tim Allen movie comes out, people think, “Hey, alright, Tim Allen!” But no one’s clamoring for him now like they did in that magical decade of the 90s.

If anyone has any idea why Tim Allen became one of the biggest stars on the planet in 90s, I’m all ears. He was affable and goofy, he was witty and he had a childish charm about him. But he couldn’t act, his comedy was so inoffensive it made Jay Leno look like Redd Foxx, and nearly everything he was in (minus the Toy Story films) was awful. I guess we’ll just have to throw him on the 90s pile next to the Talkboy and the dancing flowers, and I’ll be back with you soon.

John Lacey

The Random Ten #9

Alice in Chains - "Rotten Apple" - Jar of Flies (1994)

Opening with one of the great bass intros in rock history, “Rotten Apple” is Alice in Chains at their most subdued. This song is very laid back, with some odd Layne Staley vocals that sing of lost innocence and desperation (there’s a shock). Much different than anything AiC had ever done before (Sap was much more bare-bones, this is layered with guitars and vocals), this set the tone for the Jar of Flies EP, which took Alice in Chains to another level, popularity-wise. Another absolute classic from Alice in Chains.

Marilyn Manson - "Shitty Chicken Gang Bang" - Smells Like Children (1995)

An absolute joke of a song-title for an absolute joke of a song. This was written by former Manson keyboardist Pogo, a.k.a. Madonna Wayne Gacy, and it’s literally the same quasi-demonic, quasi-childish, all-stupid keyboard riff over and over for a minute and a half. On an EP full of throwaway trash like “Fuck Frankie” and “Sympathy for the Parents,” this fits in as pure filler. The Smells Like Children EP was pretty much only worth purchase for a few of the Portrait… remixes, and the covers of “Sweet Dreams” and “Rock & Roll N***er”. Avoid this track at all costs.

Black Sabbath - "Fairies Wear Boots/Jack the Stripper" - Paranoid (1971)

As I’ve said before, people might only know this album for “Paranoid”, “War Pigs” and “Iron Man”, but “Fairies Wear Boots” is one of the moodier, groovier tracks that is oft-overlooked from their second masterpiece Paranoid. Tony Iommi absolutely dominates the first minute of the track, from the delay-soaked intro to the mini-solo/melody riff that carries it into the verse. The lyrics seem to vaguely be about gays in the military, which, in 1970, was a ridiculous idea to be writing songs about, but Geezer Butler was always ahead of his time, lyrics-wise. If you want to look deeper into the Sabbath catalog from the early Ozzy days, look here.

Lamb of God - "O.D.H.G.A.B.F.E." - New American Gospel (2000)

I had to look up what the acronym stood for -- Officer Dick Head Gets A Black Fucking Eye – and it’s about the police brutality suffered at the hands of frontman Randy Blythe when he was in San Diego. You can’t really understand the lyrics, like most of LoG’s earlier material, but at the end when he starts naming off places like Kent State and Waco, you can guess Mr. Blythe’s not too big on authority figures. The song comes from LoG’s overrated (in my opinion) “debut” (they had released an album as Burn the Priest before changing their name), but it’s a decent heavy, thrashing metal track, a little too reminiscent of Pantera at times. If you’re a fan, check it out, but if not, worth a skip.

Iced Earth - "A Question of Heaven" - Alive in Athens (1999)

This song was probably Iced Earth’s first attempt at a “power ballad” of sorts, originally ending their Spawn-based concept album The Dark Saga. Coupled with the crowd participation of a sold-out soccer stadium in Athens, Greece, this live version is more stripped-down than the layered studio version, but the song doesn’t lose any of its power. Matt Barlow’s emotional screams at the song’s end are arguably more powerful on this live version, and it’s a good way to close out disc 1 of the 3 disc Alive in Athens. If you’re a fan of oldschool, epic metal a la Priest or Maiden, this song is worth investigating.

Testament - "Burnt Offerings" - First Strike Still Deadly (2001)

A re-recording of a classic from their debut The Legacy, this version of “Burnt Offerings” is tighter and heavier than the original, but not necessarily better. Having tuned their guitars down a full step since the original recording, this changes the vocal dynamic brought forth by Chuck Billy. It doesn’t make the song worse, per se, just different. Instead of the hyena-like howling found on the original version, he opts for a death metal-like bellow in certain areas. One thing I always loved about this album of re-recorded tunes is Alex Skolnick’s almost jazzy lead guitar tone, a far cry from the abrasive, screeching tone he possessed on The Legacy. If you’re into classic thrash metal, this song is an absolute staple of the genre.

Dropkick Murphys - "Road of the Righteous" - Live on St. Patrick's Day (2002)

One of the punkier, more straight-ahead numbers from the older Dropick Murphys catalog, “Road of the Righteous” is even better in the live setting, having the benefit of a sold-out crowd on St. Patrick’s Day handling the backup vocals. You can smell the beer and the sweat from the moshpit when you listen to this live album, and this is one of the better tracks performed. If you’ve heard any punky DM song, you’ve heard them all, but this is a great one.

Enslaved - "Blodhemn" - Blodhemn (1999)

Enslaved’s mix of black metal ferocity and Viking-influenced epic tales was always what set them apart, and they really explored the psychedelic aspects of their music following the release of Blodhemn, more specifically, beginning with Mardraum. In my opinion, that’s when the band really came into their own, but on older albums like Blodhemn, they still displayed a knack for writing fast, blazing riffs that kept the cold, black metal aesthetic, with the grandeur of power metal (not unlike later-era Bathory). Like much of their material pre-Mardraum, “Blodhem” is sung in Norwegian, although you wouldn’t really be able to understand the lyrics had they been in English in the first place. If you want to hear some balls-out, blazing, thrash-y black-y metal, it doesn’t get much better than early Enslaved.

Failure - "Undone" - Magnified (1994)

Why this band was so overlooked, I will never know. It’s a shame that this band only had one semi-hit, “Stuck on You,” before the band imploded and broke up following the release of Fantastic Planet. While Planet was a great rock record, Magnified is a masterpiece. “Undone” helps to showcase why. Using normal pop-rock song structures, combined with riffs and melodies that were anything but, Failure were able to maintain an incredible layer of catchiness and also innovation with everything they recorded. The distorted bass hinted at a power and angst that betrayed the smooth vocals, while the guitars were noisy enough that they felt like they would erupt at any time, yet they almost never do. An incredible track from an amazing, terribly underrated album.

Paradise Lost - "How Soon Is Now?" - Draconian Times (1995)

Yes, this is that “How Soon Is Now?”, the song most will remember as The Smiths’ only US hit. This is a bonus track on the re-issue of PL’s Draconian Times, and it’s pretty faithful to the original version. I would have preferred if Nick Holmes took some of the distortion off of the vocals, as it makes him sound like he’s compensating for Morrissey’s soulfulness. Musically, you could probably play this over the original version and not notice a lot of difference aside from the distortion of the guitars. A decent cover, but it adds almost nothing to the original. Worth checking out if you want another version of a song you already like, but you’ll probably just be disappointed.

Matt Steele

Forgotten Records #4: Phish - Undermind

Phish
Undermind
2004 Elektra Records

Why was it forgotten?

With Phish's recent comeback and ensuing summer tour, and my subsequent attendance at two of those shows, I thought I'd take a look back at Phish's 2004 (and still, to date, last) studio album, Undermind. This was a strange album because it was released at a time when Phish was arguably at their zenith of popularity, and yet it quickly came and went in and out of the consciousness of even the most devoted Phish fan. So what happened?

In the spring of 2004, Phish made two major announcements about their immediate future. The first: a new forthcoming studio album, called Undermind, to be released in June. Undermind was the first Phish studio album since 2002's lackluster Round Room, which is also potential fodder for a future edition of this column.

The second announcement? A summer tour for 2004, complete with a patented Phish festival to wrap things up. For the uninitiated, Phish put together a number of festivals over the years, emanating from backwoods Maine and Vermont. These festivals were essentially Phish-themed carnivals, with thousands upon thousands of people flocking to some abandoned airfield to get fucked up and watch Phish play for days on end. The festival to end the 2004 summer tour would take place in Coventry, VT (imaginitively titled "Coventry"), and Phish also stated that Coventry would represent their last concert ever.

You can imagine the bereavement of hippies worldwide upon hearing this news, but the summer tour and Coventry festival also brought about tremendous anticipation for the band's final shows. The tour was wildly successful, despite featuring some of Phish's worst cohesiveness and musicianship to date. The idea of "the end of Phish", however, had the side-effect of rendering their new studio album into an afterthought, and at times, an annoyance.

That Undermind lacked Phish's signature free-flowing jams was one thing; Phish had been moving away from that type of material and toward a more mature songwriting style for its past several studio albums anyway (Billy Breathes (1996), Farmhouse (2000), the aforementioned Round Room). Fans of the band may not have been crazy about the new material, but that's not what sunk the album.

Fans had absolutely no tolerance for these new songs, which were just introduced to them, being played on this, THE LAST TOUR. There was no time to waste on songs from Undermind when each tune that passed brought Phish closer to its end, and fans turned their back on the album. Songs from Undermind became time for gabbing with pals and taking trips to the pisser. Crowds for these songs were flatter than a pancake. Exasperated hippies screamed, "Play Golgi, dammit!"

Though Phish stuck to their guns and continued playing these songs throughout the tour, they never caught on, and Undermind was largely forgotten even though it remains their most recent studio. Phish had inadvertently sunk their new album with their retirement.

Was the album really a waste, or could we just not see through the Coventry-related cloud of marijuana smoke?

Should it be forgotten?

Yes. Actually, Undermind had a chance to be a strong record. The album starts with an eclectic and interesting intro piece called "Scents and Subtle Sounds". I'm a sucker for both intros and outros, and though this is a bit pointless, it was an enjoyable beginning to the album nonetheless.

The title track, "Undermind", is a funky romp with a head-nodding, plodding bass line. It's a little repetitive, though, and runs out of steam about halfway through. An aimless jam in the middle of the song could have been edited down or entirely scrapped and the song would be better off for it.

Undermind is a clean-sounding, well-produced record. It takes a different approach from Billy Breathes and Farmhouse and eschews the brief singer-songwritery pieces to continue Round Room's tradition of trying to fit Phish's live sound into a studio setting. I don't blame them for trying it, but their free-wheeling essence really doesn't play well in three to four minute snippets.

"The Connection" has been the target of much derision from Phish fans, due to its poppy sound and its play on top forty stations nationwide during the summer of 2004. But it really isn't that bad, and sometimes a catchy song can share some of its brightness with the surrounding tracks. At 2 1/2 minutes, it's over before it even starts anyway, in terms of Phish songs, so the criticism is largely unwarranted.

One of the most prevalent songs from Undermind played on tour is "A Song I Heard the Ocean Sing", which layers some interesting riffs and vocals and lends itself to jamming more than anything else on the record. There's a lot of good stuff happening here, with strong and unique drumming from Jon Fishman and piano from Page McConnell. This may be the most solid studio jam they've done since 1998's The Story of the Ghost.

The McConnell-written and piano driven "Army of One" follows, one of the only songs since the album's release that I go back and listen to from time to time. McConnell is not a very strong vocalist, but his struggling voice finds the right notes here, and he handles the well-written crescendos strongly. In listening, the first half of Undermind isn't too damn bad.

All good things...you know. Track 6, "Crowd Control", showcases a lame pop song with a lack of imagination and anything interesting or gripping occurring. One minute and forty-four seconds is then absolutely wasted with non-song "Maggie's Revenge", which adds absolutely nothing to the album and serves only to cause listener annoyance. To end the suite, "Nothing" has a snappy, galloping beat, but not much else. Unlike "Crowd Control", "Nothing" isn't necessarily lifeless, it's just dead air. Listening, I had a constant feeling of "OK, now what?"

"Two Versions of Me" loses the pretensions and shows Undermind for what it truly is, or what its makers intended it to be. This is a straight pop record. I appreciate Phish trying something new and also elaborating on where they had been before, but a lot of these songs are what you'd expect from a bad pop album. 3-4 minute banal, mediocre songs with no strong hooks. It's really a tale of two records; the strong, punctuated first five songs, and then a bunch of shit.

Phish's nasal-voiced George Harrison, Mike Gordon, gets his one song on the album with "Access Me", and makes it an embarrassing one, shoehorning bad lyrics where they don't belong and helping exacerbate the record's continuing free-fall off the cliff. "Scents and Subtle Sounds" is then reprised into a longer, elaborated jam. Unsurprisingly, it briefly turns the album around a bit. The song has an aura of finality about it, and would have served as a fine close.

The last three songs of Undermind are brutal. They include: a repeating, two-minute chant ("Tomorrow's Song"), an extremely misguided seven minute uber lame soft piano song ("Secret Smile"), and an a capella finale ("Grind"). Most egregious of these is "Secret Smile", which Phish is ridiculous enough to think would pull listener heartstrings because this is the second to last song by the band. Again, in a way, a small part of me respects them for trying this, but it falls so unbelievably flat, even in light of the other crap on the album. It plays like a Trey Anastasio power trip, and anyone hearing this bloated seven minute ode to George Winston before news of the band's break up must have seen the writing on the wall.

Undermind definitely had circumstances working against it, but not much on the record really helped its cause, either. Phish has since returned, and a new studio album is due in a month or two. Let's hope that they're able to move forward from this debacle and release something worthwhile.

C-

John Lacey