The Dailies 11/29/09: From the Old West to Central Europe

Hi, everyone. I hope you had a great holiday and stuffed yourselves silly on all sorts of poultry and side dishes. I’ve taken a bit of time off from the blog due to a bout with the flu and then the aforementioned holiday, but I’m back with a few new films I’ve taken in recently.

Trailerz

Tombstone (1993) – Dir: George P. Cosmatos (and Kurt Russell). Principals: Kurt Russell, Val Kilmer, Michael Biehn, Dana Delany

Tombstone is a perfectly acceptable Hollywood western. It lacks the grit and uncompromising vision of spaghetti Westerns like Leone’s “Dollars trilogy” or Sergio Corbucci’s The Great Silence (1968), substituting much of the violence and bloodshed depicted in those films for a romantic subplot between Kurt Russell’s Wyatt Earp character and Dana Delany’s travelling lounge singer character. What makes a good Western is a strong, charismatic lead, like Eastwood in the “Dollars” films or in Unforgiven. The lead in Western’s isn’t supposed to care about getting the girl. He’s not a romantic; he’s a killer, albeit one that operates with a code of ethics. Russell does well with the Wyatt Earp role in certain respects, but unfortunately the film vacillates between well-done gunfights and romantic mush between Russell and Delany that continually derails the proceedings.

Tombstone does have a strong ensemble cast (Russell, Sam Elliott, Bill Paxton, Powers Boothe, Val Kilmer, even Charlton Heston) and does get the general feel of the old West correct, which is essential for a believable and entertaining Western. Tombstone makes the one-horse town of Tombstone, Arizona accurately feel like the center of its resident’s lives. Everything looks right, as well, with dust and grime covering everything, saloons and brothels on every street corner and ornery characters lurking around every corner.

The acting is serviceable throughout, but Val Kilmer’s performance as Wyatt Earp’s friend Doc Holliday, though a bit hammy and over the top, was at least intriguing and fun to watch. Kilmer provides a spark that the rest of the good guys in the film, including Russell, simply don’t get across. There are scenes of power and some nice gun play in Tombstone, but unfortunately it’s a bit too glossy for this type of material and spends too much time doting on Russell’s love interest and not enough creating an engaging plot. C.

The Third Man (1949) – Dir: Carol Reed. Principals: Joseph Cotten, Orson Welles, Alida Valli, Trevor Howard

The Third Man is a brilliant detective story about an American (Joseph Cotten) trying to uncover the truth about his friend’s death in post WWII-era Vienna. Director Carol Reed captures the look and feel of a glorious city reduced to ruins due to the war and creates a perfect atmosphere for the chaotic story.

Joseph Cotten travels through the city shaking down his friend Harry Lime’s former associates and lovers, trying to get more information to determine the plausibility of the car accident that ended Lime’s life. After talking with Lime’s friends who were at the scene of the accident, Cotten starts to believe that everything about the story does not add up and figures out that Lime is actually alive. Cotten receives intelligence from British authorities (post-war Vienna had been split up into four zones, of which the British controlled one) that Lime is actually a wanted criminal, and his character, played by Orson Welles, steals the movie with a wonderfully cold-hearted exchange with Cotten.

Welles is eventually set up for arrest by Cotten and the British, and the pathetic end to his life, trying to crawl for freedom in the sewers of Vienna, is well done and very powerful. The only thing about the film that didn’t make sense was Cotten’s motivation for uncovering the truth and his devotion to Lime. Cotten’s character comes off as a straight-laced, moral guy, and though he was unaware of Lime’s criminal enterprises, he still seems like the kind of guy that would have sniffed something like that out or realized something was amiss. His detective work shows he is not the kind of guy to be easily duped, and yet he had no idea of his friend’s improprieties. Still, despite its very few flaws, The Third Man is a terrific picture. A-. (The Third Man won the Best Cinematography Academy Award in 1951, and was also nominated for Best Director (Reed) and Best Film Editing).

Feature Presentation

“Dekalog” (or “The Decalogue”), Volumes I-III
Director: Krzysztof Kieslowski
Principal Actors: Episode I: Henryk Baranowski, Episode II: Krystyna Janda, Aleksander Bardini, Episode III: Daniel Olbrychski, Maria Pakulnis

“The Decalogue” is a series of ten one-hour long episodes produced for Polish TV in 1989. Each apparently either corresponds with or contains elements of one or more of the Ten Commandments. Some films are easier to determine which commandment they match up with than others, but it’s truthfully immaterial. Each of the first three “Decalogue” films (in fact, all of them) are brilliant studies in the hardships of Polish society in Warsaw in the late 80s, and each of the films take place in a high-rise apartment complex in that city.

The first “Decalogue” entry depicts a single father, a man of science and numbers, training his young son in the art of the scientific method and using reason to deduce things. He buys the boy a pair of ice skates for Christmas, and he goes out late at night to test the ice on the pond adjacent to the apartments in which they live. The father’s faith in reason and science inadvertently causes the death of his son, who falls through the ice and drowns. The father, played by Henryk Baranowski, perfectly portrays a father in grief when he realizes what happened, and provides what is the saddest and most human scenes I’ve seen in “The Decalogue” thus far.

In the second entry, a young pregnant woman (Krystyna Janda) harasses a doctor about her husband’s medical prognosis. She’s been unable to conceive with her husband, and she’s pregnant by another man. If her husband lives, she’ll have to abort the child, but if he dies, she’ll keep it due to her previous inability to have a baby. The battle of wits between the woman and the doctor (Aleksander Bardini) provide the meat of the film, with the doctor hesitant to make any kind of prediction or prognosis despite the pleas of the woman, and the woman trying to get beyond the doctor’s professional façade and appeal to his humanity to get the information she needs.

Over the first three entries, the setting of the “Decalogue” has been gray, cold, and uniform. The high-rise apartments are drab and their lifts and hallways resemble hospital wards. For the material in question, they’re perfect. Director Krzysztof Kieslowski uses them as a character of sorts, and they work to actually make the character’s problems seem smaller than they really are. Each character’s pains and struggles dominate each of the individual episodes, but we know from previous installments that there are other folks in the same apartment building with comparable problems. This knowledge compounds the difficulties of the characters, and in each film we think back on the protagonists of the previous films and wonder where they are in the complex and how they’re holding up.

The third entry follows a family man who is summoned by a former lover on Christmas Eve to help her find her presumed dead husband. This third film is the most confusing in terms of motivation and isn’t as strong as the other two, but the man and woman’s journey into the middle of the night on Christmas Eve provides some memorable moments. The man, out of a misplaced but noble sense of duty, accompanies the woman to morgues, drunk tanks, and abandoned train stations while the woman alternates between fits of madness and calmness. The people they encounter in these moribund places on a supposed day of joy creates the strongest atmosphere of any of the films thus far.

The first three volumes of “The Decalogue” are a great work of human filmmaking. They don’t presume to be anything more than what they are; simply following a series of characters that live together in an apartment complex and the difficulties and hardships they face. Kieslowski doesn’t tell us how to feel about what happens to them and what they do. He leaves it up to us, perhaps with a little help from the Bible.

A

John Lacey

Fanfarlo - Reservoir

Fanfarlo
Reservoir
2009 (self-released)

Walking the line between chamber pop and twee-bliss, Reservoir, the 2009 debut album from London-based Fanfarlo is a brilliant piece of work from any band, much less one making its debut.

With predictable comparisons to Arcade Fire’s Funeral and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah’s self-titled debut, front man Simon Balthazar’s range and ability to complement his band’s baroque melodies separate this record from the realm of simply derivative.

Despite their galactic monikers, tracks “Comet” and “Luna” provide the most down to earthly accessible moments on the record, with the former’s disjointed crescendo of strings breaching the borders of triumphant. “Fire Escape” finds the band loosening up the collars of their wool cardigans and rocking out to a backbeat and catchy trumpet melodies. Still, the band proves itself to be more than just another wistful pop act and channels Peter Buck’s right-hand with the track “Harold T. Wilkins”, an enjoyable foot stomper.

“If It Is Growing” brings forth the most intimate moment of the record, with a track that sees the band as its most vulnerable, harnessed by horns, strings, and keys. Instrumental “Good Morning Midnight” closes the record with a mandolin piece that lets you off easily after a nice ride.

As Balthazar sings on “If It Is Growing”, "If it is clawing/And wants to get out/Then let it come out", you get the sense on this record that there is a band that wants to get out, and will get out and establish its own identity as more than just another band that sounds like that band from Montreal.

B+

HOSS

The Random Ten #14

I’m flying solo on this edition of the Random Ten, which will hopefully help to get my mind off the atrocity that befell the Patriots last night in Indianapolis. Let’s go!

1) Silkworm – “Moving” – Italian Platinum (2002)

Silkworm definitely comes from the Pavement school of indie-rock, with this track featuring sparse instrumentation, quirky guitar work, and Steven Malkmus-esque lyrics from their lead singer. “Moving” moseys along in its minimalistic way, and like a lot of Pavement songs, it has a way of sounding larger, frillier, and more important than it really is. It’s interesting, but it’s quite drab and doesn’t do a whole lot.

2) Ben Folds – “Rockin’ the Suburbs” – Songs For Goldfish (2005)

This is the second Random Ten in a row where a song from this album has been featured; what are the odds! Anyway, this is a live performance of the title track of his 2001 solo album. Folds sounds boisterous and focused here, and the audience is audibly jazzed up for this and makes things more fun. The bubbly, cheerful misery and melancholy of the song comes across very well in this version, with crisp piano from Folds and solid musicianship from his band.

Folds’ smarminess and sarcasm can be a double-edged sword; it can push a song over the top to where it needs to go or he can come off looking really cheesy and lame. This version, thankfully, gives us the former, with Folds sounding sharp and getting his point across. The version ends with a flourish of Folds repeatedly screaming “fuck you” over a pseudo-metal riff. He could have done without that.

3) Widespread Panic – “Meeting Of The Waters” – Ball (2003)

Hey, these guys again, for the second week in a row! Widespread Panic is a talented, good band, but too much of what they do is so simple and straightforward. Take “Meeting Of The Waters”, the ninth track from their 2003 album (and first album without founding member and guitarist Michael Houser, who died in 2002). There’s not much complexity in this song, and usually when any song of theirs is memorable, it’s because they strike gold with a particularly memorable riff or melody.

When their songs don’t have one of those two things, they float by, not bad enough to dislike but not good enough to really care about. I’m not the biggest fan of theirs, so I’m not completely familiar with their catalogue, but it seems like they have a lot of songs that fit this mold. A nice jam in the last minute of this track, however, does liven things up a bit.

4) Pearl Jam – “Alone” – Live At The Gorge 05/06 (2007)

This version of “Alone” is culled from disc two of Pearl Jam’s massive seven-disc live collection from 2007. This is one of my favorite b-sides from their 2003 rarities compilation, Lost Dogs. Lead singer Eddie Vedder does a nice job handling the vocal peaks and valleys that this song requires of him and a solid guitar part about halfway through provides a quintessential grunge riff. A short but solid performance.

5) The Beatles – “If I Needed Someone” – Rubber Soul (1965)

“If I Needed Someone” is a fantastic song, featuring strong harmonies and great bass and guitar work. The different vocals of the Beatles combine to form one voice, and the way that voice moves along in a different tone from word to word in the song’s verses is fantastic. It’s quick, so there’s not a whole lot to say about it, except that you should listen to Rubber Soul.

6) Stevie Wonder – “Visions” – Innervisions (1973)

I’m ashamed to admit this, but I’ve never put this album on before. “Visions” features Wonder’s trademark voice, which conveys a youthful wisdom that is unique and solely his. The song creates an eerie atmosphere, with a dark jazzy tone that moves things along. It sounds like a lounge act, evoking images of a smoke-filled martini bar. That’s not meant to denigrate it; I actually quite like this sound, but it’s a bit too sparse, and I was hoping it would eventually take me someplace else before its conclusion.

7) The Jayhawks – “Darling Today” – Music From The North Country: The Jayhawks Anthology (2009, song originally recorded in 1994 [and according to Wikipedia, was on the Blown Away soundtrack])

The Jayhawks are another band that was featured on the last Random Ten, and “Darling Today” gives us the second winner in a row from the alt-country outfit. Solid harmonies, a tickling piano piece, and a classic alt-country breakdown the leads back into another verse give the song punch in its three-minute runtime. It’s quick, fun, and nostalgic: alt-country’s M.O.

8) Grateful Dead – “Hey Pocky Way” – So Many Roads (1999)

This version of “Hey Pocky Way” was originally recorded in Greensboro, NC in 1989 and is found on their five-disc 1999 box set, So Many Roads. “Hey Pocky Way” is a classic bouncy rock and roll tune; no frills minus the occasional synthesizer. I love the Dead’s jamming, but sometimes it’s nice when they don’t fuck around and they play a six-minute asskicker like this. A pleasure to listen to from a then-rejuvenated band.

9) Oasis – “The Girl In The Dirty Shirt” – Be Here Now (1997)

I’m actually just coming around to Oasis right now; they don’t do anything too crazy, but they generally put big-sounding riff heavy rock to tape, which I can always get behind. This song is really no different from the standard Oasis song. The world isn’t being lit aflame here, but there are some strong riffs and a nice chorus that serves as an adequate payoff. I don’t know if this needs to be six minutes long, but it’s a perfectly acceptable rock song, if a bit boring.

10) Dave Matthews Band – “Stay (Wasting Time)” – Listener Supported (1999)

I used to really like Dave Matthews Band. I once counted Before These Crowded Streets as one of my favorite albums. I listened to them all the time. And now, well, this is the first time in years I’ve had them on.

Of course, “Stay” is a good song, especially this live performance from 1999’s Listener Supported. Most of their songs are good. But their fanbase, or my perception of their fanbase, ruins everything for me. All I can see when I hear Dave Matthews Band are teenage guys going to the “Dave show” to get hammered and teenage girls singing along to “Grey Street”. I realize that’s not the band’s fault, they obviously don’t control who listens to them. I just have trouble identifying myself in any way with “music fans” whom I feel know nothing about music.

But you know what? After re-reading the assholery of what I just wrote, and listening to this version of “Stay”, maybe I’ll give them another chance.

John Lacey

Boston Sports List #3: Most Crushing Defeats

Welcome back to another installment of the Boston Sports List. In the first two editions, we took a look at the most hated opposing teams from the perspective of a Boston sports fan. That list featured ten entries, broken into two columns. Moving forward, I’ll be narrowing down these lists to five entries, starting with today’s column on the most crushing defeats I’ve seen my Boston teams suffer.

A few things to get out of the way before we begin. First, though I was alive in 1986, I don’t remember actually seeing game six of the 1986 World Series. I’m limiting the list to games that I was actively watching and paying a life-or-death level of attention to. As a child, I watched Boston sports, but I wasn’t truly concerned about the outcome and mostly watched because my father did. I began coming into my own as a fan in 1998-1999, so all of the entries on this list date back only that far.

Secondly, there are no Bruins or Celtics games on this list. It’s not because I’m not a big enough fan of those teams to have been affected by one of their big losses. Basically, for a great majority of the last ten to eleven years, those two teams really weren’t that good and didn’t play in many gigantic games. Even when they both started becoming good over the past few years, I can’t really pinpoint any specific losses where I was completely devastated, like the five games below. I just wanted to get that out of the way.

#5) New York Yankees at Boston Red Sox - 1999 American League Championship Series (Game Four) – October 17, 1999

Like I mentioned earlier, I was always technically a fan of the local teams, but I didn’t watch every game or get broken up by losses or elated by big wins. The 1999 Red Sox season was the tipping point for me, where I started watching every game religiously, read the papers and Internet to get the scoop on trades and signings ahead of time, and when sports generally started being too important to me. I was fifteen, beginning my journey into manhood, and following baseball seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

Anyway, the Red Sox had made the playoffs as the wild card entry on the backs of pitcher Pedro Martinez and shortstop Nomar Garciaparra, and drew the then-juggernaut Cleveland Indians in the first round of the playoffs. The Sox quickly fell behind Cleveland, two games to none, and all hope seemed lost. I knew it had been a long time since the Red Sox won the World Series, but when they fell behind to the Indians, I could finally feel it. Even though I was a “new” fan, I felt the indignation just like everyone else. When the fuck are we going to win this thing?

The Red Sox righted the ship and won the next two games, resulting in a decisive game five in Cleveland. To that time, the best moment I had ever seen as a fan occurred, when Pedro Martinez came out of the bullpen in the midst of a tie game and shut Cleveland down the rest of the way to ensure a berth in the ALCS. Due to the miraculous comeback against the Indians, morale was high and people in Boston actually thought that we might beat our hated rivals, the Yankees, to get to the World Series.

Of course, it didn’t play out that way. The Yankees took the first two games at home, and then dropped game three to the Sox and the unstoppable Martinez. Game four was a must-win for the Red Sox, and New York led 3-2 heading into the bottom of the eighth. Jose Offerman struck a one-out single to center for the Sox, and John Valentin followed by grounding into a double play, 2nd base to 1st. Except that Yankees second baseman Chuck Knoblauch never actually tagged Jose Offerman on his way to 2nd base, the umpire just thought he did, and this play resulted in the end of the inning. Predictably, the Yankees scored six times in the top of the ninth to take the game and essentially the series.

This game marked the first time I was legitimately pissed off at a sporting event and the first time I felt hatred towards the Yankees. That the Sox would go through three years of an underachieving malaise after this only made the memories of this game that much more frustrating.

#4) New England Patriots at Indianapolis Colts – 2006 AFC Championship Game – January 21, 2007

Since the emergence of Patriots quarterback Tom Brady as a superstar in 2001, he and the Patriots always had found a way to beat Indianapolis and their leader, Peyton Manning. The Patriots beat the Colts in Foxboro in the AFC Championship game in 2003 and again in the AFC Divisional playoffs in 2004. Even though this game was being played in Indianapolis, and even though it admittedly looked like a giant mismatch favoring the Colts headed in, spirits remained high. After all, this is Peyton Manning! He’s never going to beat us!

The Patriots gave us good reason to be optimistic, opening up a 21-6 halftime lead. Manning had always seemed shaky in big games and always blew it at the exact moment where his team needed him. There wasn’t much concern that he’d come back.

But we happened to forget that Peyton Manning is still really, really good, and maybe he was tired of hearing about how he couldn’t win the big one. The Colts started the second half with an immediate touchdown, then forced a punt and drove down the field again, tying the score on another touchdown and two-point conversion. The two teams basically traded blows from that point on, resulting in a 34-31 Patriot lead with about three minutes left on the clock for the Colts. Manning finally seized the moment, driving the Colts down the field and scoring the decisive touchdown on a three-yard run by running back Joseph Addai. The Colts hung on to win the game, 38-34.

The Patriots lost some of their championship luster the previous year in their playoff loss to Denver, but this was completely unexpected. The Patriots historically owned Manning and the Colts. They never blew halftime leads, especially one of more than two scores. They never lost playoff games like this, period. This game legitimized Peyton Manning and led to endless “Brady or Manning” debates. The Patriots also would have almost certainly defeated the Bears in the Super Bowl, which would have tied the Steelers for winning that title in four out of six seasons.

#3) New England Patriots at Denver Broncos – 2005 AFC Divisional playoffs – January 14, 2006

Yeah, I rate this higher than the game against the Colts. Though the Colts game was against a legitimate rival and on a grander stage, this game against Denver was the first time that Tom Brady and the Patriots looked human. Before this game, the Patriots had never lost under Brady’s command, and here they were, playing like shit and getting shellacked by Jake Plummer. Before this game, the Patriots were the invincible champions of the NFL, never to be dethroned and never to lose a big playoff game. This game showed that Brady and the Pats could be beaten in the playoffs, and in a way, set the tone for the loss to Indianapolis the following year.

The Patriots certainly deserved to lose this game from the get-go. They were sloppy, they couldn’t drive the ball, they were behind, and things were not going their way. But the Patriots always had some way of pulling out a miracle, and I had no doubt at the time that they would do it again. The Pats were down 10-6 with under a minute to go in the third, but they were driving into Denver territory. I remember actually thinking, “Here we go. Tom will make something happen. He always does.” The Patriots drove to Denver’s 5, and then…catastrophe. Champ Bailey jumped in front of a Tom Brady pass and returned it 101 yards to the Patriots one-yard line, setting up an immediate Denver touchdown and essentially losing the game. It was one of those moments, legitimately shocking to me. Did that really happen?

This game is already often forgotten about when discussing brutal sports losses, but to me, the way this game completely shattered the aura of invincibility that had surrounded the Patriots made it particularly painful.

#2) New England Patriots vs. New York Giants – Super Bowl XLII – February 3, 2008

The Patriots’ Super Bowl loss to the Giants caused a different kind of anguish for me. I didn’t go into a rage or anything like that; I had since realized that losing my mind about a bunch of millionaires mixing it up on the field really didn’t make a whole lot of sense. This game was about the loss of an opportunity; a chance for the team I loved to do something that had never been done before and most likely will never happen again. That Tom Brady and the Patriots, whom I still believed would win their big games despite the recent evidence I cited above, would cough up that opportunity made the loss even harder to swallow.

We all know the back story. 18-0, a shot at the first perfect season since those petulant shitheads, the 1972 Dolphins, completed the feat when teams were still wearing leather helmets. The Spygate scandal had broken loose during the season as well, calling into question all of the success the Patriots had under coach Bill Belichick and causing the Patriots to be the most hated team in professional sports. This was a chance to shove it up everyone’s ass; the Patriots are the best team in the history of football and it will always be that way.

Then, they lost. They lost in heartbreaking fashion, but it really wasn’t the way they lost that hurt. It’s that we still have to watch Don Shula drink champagne from his wheelchair every time the last undefeated team loses. It’s seeing the “16-0: Perfect Regular Season” banner at Gillette Stadium and realizing what came after it. It’s seeing Gatorade commercials featuring the fateful catch from late in the game. I didn’t throw anything or lose my cool when they lost, but I realized what the Patriots had squandered and how they’d probably never get that chance again.

#1) Boston Red Sox at New York Yankees – 2003 American League Championship Series (Game Seven) – October 16, 2003

Undoubtedly the worst moment I’ve experienced as a fan of Boston sports was Aaron Boone’s home run to seal the 2003 American League Championship Series for the Yankees. It’s impossible to convey all of the emotions that went into that one moment and describe the incredibly divided atmosphere at Providence College during this series. The whole event was almost surreal, and I suppose the only way the series could have ended was in a surreal way, as well.

Rather than go through back story or build up the story, I’ll share what I immediately did as soon as the Red Sox lost this game (please note that I’m not proud of this, and I fully admit that at this point sports meant a little too much to me):

- Ran out of my dorm room screaming obscenities, eventually going into the adjacent hallway (I had to avoid my screaming Yankee-fan roommate; a good guy, but why I decided to watch the game with him I’ll never know)

- Threw the half-full water bottle as hard as I could at the door that led to the common area, cracking it and causing water to fly everywhere.

- Entered the laundry room, where I found myself kicking the washers and dryers as hard as I possibly could.

- Went back into the common room, where I kicked the soda machine as hard as I could, legitimately trying to break it because I was in such a blind rage (amazingly, it didn’t break. Those things are pretty strong).

- Punched through a plate-glass covering of a bulletin board in the common area, causing glass to fly everywhere. Very, very stupid, and lucky I didn’t seriously hurt myself. Only a few minor cuts but visible bleeding.

- Stumbled outside, where Yankee fans were gathered on the quad celebrating and screaming and yelling. Quickly walked away from that scene and fumbled around in a daze, looking for anyone who could give me a cigarette.

- Stayed outside in a secluded area thinking about the game for a few hours.

- Found another dejected Sox fan who shared some smokes with me as we discussed our frustrations.

- Stayed up all night, unable to sleep.

So yeah. Again, I’m actually rather ashamed of this behavior, because, to tell the truth, my rage about the Patriots loss in the Super Bowl subsided after about a half an hour. This game was just different. We had never won. After this, I was certain we never would win. So much went into Red Sox/Yankees; I invested so much of myself into a damn baseball game that I had no rational way of expressing my disappointment once it ended. The subsequent success of the Red Sox and our other teams has cooled my emotions and, I feel, the emotions of most Boston fans, which is a good thing, because I never want to experience this again.

John Lacey

Baroness - Blue Record

Baroness
Blue Record
2009 Relapse

The fine folks at MetalSucks.net had been really hyping up the release of this album for weeks before its release, and they’re usually pretty reliable on their reviews and opinions, so I thought I’d investigate. I had only heard a couple of pieces of songs from Baroness’ debut, Red Album, and I heard a band influenced a lot by Mastodon/Neurosis/Isis, but also with a twist of alternative and indie rock influences not really present in those bands’ sounds. They weren’t the most original band I’d ever heard, but I didn’t dislike what I heard, either. On this, their new album, they’ve definitely found a signature “Baroness sound,” and it sounds fucking incredible.

The fine folks at Relapse allowed the band to stream this album in its entirety on their MySpace a few weeks prior to its release. I gave the album a listen and immediately played the whole thing again when I was done, I was that impressed. The musicianship is tight and innovative, but not overbearing or masturbatory in any way. These guys have chops, but they are most impressive when settling into a groove as a full unit. The album opens with the instrumental “Bullhead’s Psalm,” featuring a guitar melody that will be repeated a couple of times throughout the record, giving it a real album feel. This record is meant to be listened to from beginning to end, but the songs are also strong enough to stand out on their own.

Proper opener “The Sweetest Curse” opens with the most metallic riff the band has ever laid down, and at first it sounds a little Mastodon-ish, especially with the harsh vocals during the first verse. As the song opens up into more melodic passages, however, it’s evident that Baroness is an entirely different creature (pardon the pun). Around the 1:39 mark, the song gets into more groovy rock territory, not entirely unlike Kyuss, before some great guitar harmonies really bring things home. Having gone back and gotten into the band’s Red Album in recent weeks, it’s clear how much better developed the songs on Blue Record are. Red Album featured a lot of songs with numerous parts and riffs that sometimes only contained one real verse, whereas Blue has well-structured, composed songs that have musical and even vocal hooks. “Jake Leg” features a lot of twangy, southern rock-inspired riffing, and is far more rock-and-roll than metal, but it works greatly. It’s also worth noting that the production job by John Congleton really shines through with the use of loud/soft dynamics found at points throughout the song. He knows how to capture the band at full rock-out mode, but also in the quieter, more introspective parts.

On the quieter note, “Steel That Sleeps the Eye” sounds like something out of a 60’s folk record, with descending, overdubbed vocal harmonies over acoustic guitars, before eerie piano and electric guitar slowly build to a crescendo that leads into the stellar “Swollen and Halo.” Repeating some musical and vocal hooks from “Steel…,” “Swollen and Halo” is balls-out, heavy rock, full of awesome catchy riffs. The instrumental interlude “Ogeechee Hymnal” follows, repeating the “Bullhead” theme from the intro, this time sounding a little more distorted and heavy. This leads into what I think is the best song on the album, “A Horse Called Golgotha.”

Twangy stop-start riffs open up “Horse…” before the drums explode into a shuffling, heavy groove emphasized by some Thin Lizzy/Iron Maiden-esque dual guitar harmonies. The chorus from this song was stuck in my head for days, and this song just cements the fact that Baroness have 100% their own sound. Drummer Alan Bickle really shines on this song, pounding the drums on the choruses, but laying down an almost disco-esque beat during the verses. The song opens up into more proggy, experimental territory in the middle section after the solo, but absolutely crushes at 4:25 in. An absolutely fantastic song in all aspects. “O’er Hell and Hide” opens with some great acoustic guitar, before turning into a moody rock shuffle with odd, disorienting spoken word passages sprinkled throughout.

“War, Wisdom and Rhyme” has an almost oldschool metal feel to it, with some solid riffing and a heavy, stomping rhythm. The part at 3:41is an all-out guitar dual that sounds like it could have come from Iron Maiden’s Killers. Probably the second heaviest song on the album, this is another winner in an album that really doesn’t miss. “Blackpowder Orchard” sounds like it could’ve been recorded in the backwoods of Deliverance, with some finger-picked acoustics and major key electric guitar harmonies throughout. Some people think interludes like this are throwaway tracks, but I think it brings a cohesion and flow to the album that makes it feel like more than just a collection of (awesome) songs.

“The Gnashing” echoes a riff from Red Album’s “Grad,” only a little more upbeat and melodic here. This song has an urgent, frantic pace to it once the vocals kick in, and it’s another heavy riff rocker. John Baizley sounds incredibly powerful yet vulnerable throughout, lending an almost melancholic feel. The album closes, yet again, with the “Bullhead” theme, this one titled “Bullhead’s Lament.” The guitar harmonies in this one recall the middle section of Metallica’s “Orion,” and it’s a perfect way to end a near-perfect album.

I’m normally not into the quasi-metal, quasi-rock, quasi-indie stuff, but this album is heavy enough, rocking enough, and not nearly as pretentious as a lot of stuff that gets labeled as “hipster metal” (which is a stupid term to begin with, but I won’t even get started on that). I almost avoided this simply because of the hype and positive reviews I’d been seeing everywhere, but I’m very happy that I didn’t. This is a band that has really come into their own, and this album is highly recommended for anybody who wants to hear a truly original, truly powerful rock band.

(Side note: I recommend buying the deluxe edition CD, which comes with a second disc, a live set from 2008, and you can get a much better look at frontman/guitarist John Baizley’s incredible album artwork as well.)

A

Matt Steele

Let's Talk Turkey! #1

Welcome to a new feature on the Musicarium, "Let's Talk Turkey!" In this column my associate Brendan Leonard and I will discuss various topics, many of which you, the reader, will have no interest in! Ready? Let's Talk Turkey!

John's Expository Question: Why do you think that the NL is a better brand of baseball than the AL, despite the presence in the batting lineup of players who are incapable of hitting the baseball?

Brendan's Initial Response: Jackie, Jackie, Jackie. I bet you like The Phantom Menace more than Empire? Do you find yourself longing for the official death of the compact disc, as to give way to the convenience of the MP3? I am sure you prefer "Coke Zero" over "Coke-a-Cola?" Not me my friend, I prefer the real thing. A game where the nine men posted on the lineup card are expected to play the field and hit the ball, you know, play baseball.

I don't mind the AL, or the DH, for that matter. What does get me fired up is when AL snobs thumb their collective noses at the NL. They dismiss it as "boring" or "a second tier league." While there's certainly more offense in the AL (thus making it harder to pitch in that league) the NL offers more strategy, more surprise, and more athleticism. One of my favorite moments as a Chicago Cubs fan is when Pitcher and badass Kerry Wood belted a 3 run homer to tie game 7 of the 2003 NLCS. I won't go into how that one ended, but it's moments like that that make the game unpredictable and fun to watch.

Sure, 9 out of 10 times pitchers are nothing more than a time consuming out, but every once and a while something spectacular happens. Pitchers' batting also allows for more under-arching story lines to develop, often times lost on the Sportscenter/Deadspin bred "sports" fans. Hypothetical: it's game 7 of the NLCS, it's 1-1 in the 7th inning. Your pitcher is lights out, but is at bat with 2 outs and a man on 2nd. What does the manager do? I love these moments, the game within the game, the decisions that can make or break a season. This only happens in the NL. In the AL, it's easier and more black and white, all a manager needs to worry about is when to pull a pitcher when he's struggling, which is pretty obvious most of the time. If he's in trouble, yank him, or pull a Grady Little.

So Jackie, other than being a Red Sox fan, why would you prefer the AL? I would suggest you're yet another victim of the "Sportscenter-ization" of the American sports fan.

John's Rebuttal:

Well, it's true that I grew up a Red Sox fan and an AL guy, as you grew up a Cubs/NL guy. So obviously we're predestined to feel the way we do on the subject. But you said it yourself; "sure 9 out of 10 times pitchers are nothing more than a time consuming out". Why do I want to watch that? The one time out of ten the pitcher manages a seeing-eye single doesn't completely discount the 90% out rate. It's boring and illogical. There's a man taking up one of the precious nine spots in the batting order, that for all intents and purposes, cannot hit.

The strategy aspect you mention rings hollow, too. Is it really riveting, edge of your seat stuff for a manager to call for the pitcher to lay down a sacrifice? I feel like National League fans act as if the double switch is brain surgery that only "their managers" can comprehend. It's pretty fucking easy to follow, and I don't think AL managers are/would be dumbfounded by the concept. And AL fans aren't lunkheaded morons who just love to see moon shots and nothing more; we appreciate the game just as much as NL fans. Just because the NL has been around slightly longer and because there's more "strategy" involved doesn't automatically make that league somehow superior.

I prefer the AL because it's more difficult and because it's a true test of a baseball player. If a player succeeds in the AL, chances are they can succeed anywhere in the league. The reverse of that is not necessarily true. We see it all the time. Pitchers the caliber of Greg Maddux (taking nothing away from him) used to say they'd never pitch in the AL. Pitchers like Brad Penny and John Smoltz, with proven pedigrees and track records, haven't been able to hack it in the AL. Middling pitchers like Jeff Suppan and Jeff Weaver have struggled mightily in the AL and then turned into 1968 Bob Gibson in the National League. It's simply tougher to play in the AL; the pitching's better, the hitting's better, the lights are brighter, and the pressure is up. Is that not true?

Brendan's Counterpoint:

First off, let me tell a quick story. About a year ago I got a phone call from you while you were playing a baseball game for PlayStation 3, and the purpose of the call was to ask me how to effectively pull off a double switch. I explained it, and you executed it. While I agree it's far from brain surgery, you still didn't know how to do it, thus making your "AL fans aren't lunkheaded morons who just love to see moon shots and nothing more" comment a tad off base, but I digress.

I agree with you, it's certainly harder to play in the AL, and that is solely because of the DH. Not only because the pitcher doesn't have to bat, but also because the DH frees up lineup spots for potential free agents or trade acquisitions. Take your beloved Red Sox, for example; there are rumors that they're going to go after Padres first base masher Adrian Gonzalez this offseason. They are doing this despite the fact that they already have two capable first baseman. If they were to get Adrian Gonzalez, they'd move "The Greek God of Walks" to third, and Cool Uncle Mike Lowell and David "I'm too out of shape to play the field" Ortiz would share DH duty.

Essentially they don't have to get rid of anyone of purpose to gain someone of purpose. Sure, some players will get less playing time, but they still will have tremendous depth in case of injury. Now take my Cubs; they simply can't get Gonzalez without getting rid of Derrek Lee. I am aware that he's less versatile than Youk, but for argument's sake let's say he can play third. If you move him to third, then Aramis Ramirez is out of the lineup, and more likely off the team. I am aware of your argument about high priced players not wanting to DH, but what if they're acquired from a trade? Look no further than Victor Martinez last year, you got him (a capable catcher/1B) and you didn't have to get rid of any of your normal starters or change your lineup drastically. The DH allows you to do so, a luxury that doesn't exist in the NL.

So while you say it's harder to "play" in the AL, and I agree with you, keep in mind that the rules of the league allow teams to build deeper/more talented teams than the NL. Now you could argue that this makes for a better brand of baseball because of these stacked teams, but I find it pretty sterile and expensively cheap. It's probably why 5 of the top 6 payrolls in the Major Leagues belong to AL teams (the Mets are the lone NL team in the group - a fact that makes me chuckle). Call me old fashioned but I still love the games within the game of baseball. Subtle nuance and tradition is still alive and well in the NL, the same cannot be said (to a degree) about the AL. Again, I am of the ilk that if you are expected to field you should be expected to hit. But god forbid Chien-Ming Wang be forced to run the bases.

"I just think it's time the NL joined the 21st century... Truthfully NL owners should be concerned with it, even with the practice their pitchers get doing it. You don't need to lose your best pitcher. The pitcher has enough work to do. It's something Bud (Selig) needs to address and he needs to address it soon. Don't give me that traditionalist crap."

- Yankees Owner/AL Buffoon Hank Steinbrenner's reaction to starting Pitcher Chien-Ming Wang hurting himself running from third to home.

John's Response:

First, I want to say that your story is true, but in a way is proves my point. I'm an AL guy, and though I've obviously watched NL games in my lifetime, I wasn't fully aware how to perform a double switch. I asked you, you told me how to do it, and I immediately executed it successfully. So, as I said in my original point, it really isn't hard to do. NL managers and NL fans shouldn't be lauded as smarter baseball people because they have different rules that any baseball fans can pick up right away.

Your points about the AL as compared to the NL are moot points, as well. I agree with them in theory; I can't argue that the AL teams have more flexibility to make moves than NL teams. But all NL teams are operating under the same set of rules and restrictions, as are AL teams. NL teams are competing against each other based on those same decision-making principles; they're not at an inherent disadvantage against each other, which is really all that matters. AL teams can add another bat if they have the resources; as you mentioned, the Red Sox are looking at adding Adrian Gonzalez and having Ortiz and Lowell split DH time. But players that play the field are always more valuable than those that can't, and without the DH the AL teams would simply drop the old, broken down hitters the way NL teams have to. I think that you overstate the importance of this roster spot; AL teams aren't going to bring a marquee player in to play DH, they simply shuffle an older guy or a "professional hitter" to that spot. In any case, the fact that each league operates under the same principles makes this argument not really matter.

You also write, "Call me old fashioned but I still love the games within the game of baseball. Subtle nuance and tradition is still alive and well in the NL, the same cannot be said (to a degree) about the AL". But at what point does the "new" rule become tradition itself? The DH has been in place in the AL since 1973; that's a pretty long fucking time. It was ten years before either of us were born, and it's now an important part of baseball in itself. Just because something existed a certain way before the DH doesn't automatically mean the DH is stupid. I'd like to think that 36 years with the rule would be long enough for it to be considered tradition in and of itself.

Additionally, it's not fair for you to quote Hank Steinbrenner as if he speaks for anyone with half a brain, let alone me. As Homer Simpson's hippie associates once said, "This man does not represent us."

Brendan's Final Thoughts:

When I was watching game 4 of the World Series last night, a series in which I have little emotional investment, I found myself screaming at the TV during one particular at bat. Pitcher C(arsten) C(harles) Sabathia was up with runners on 1st and 2nd with nobody out. This was an obvious bunting situation. CC showed bunt right away and waived his bat as if he was trying to execute a billiards trick-shot at the first pitch. Eventually he struck out with a similarly dismal bunt attempt. I said to my friend, "If that was Greg Maddux (longtime NL pitcher/badass), those runners would be at 2nd and 3rd right now." The point of this story is not how AL pitchers can't bunt, we know this, the point is that I really do like the fact that the two leagues are so different because of that one simple rule.

Admittedly, if I were a White Sox fan I am sure I would prefer the American League, but my choice of allegiance to a team is the foundation for my allegiance to the NL. It's what I know, what I am used to, and what I am, in a weird way, proud of. But the fact that there are different rules for these two leagues makes baseball more interesting as a whole. The scenario I described earlier is microcosm of how the little things in the World Series, the battle of the NL's best versus the AL's best, can be captivating. Especially since the emergence of interleague play, I am glad there are still things that differentiate the two leagues. I like seeing the career path of AL lifer vets (i.e. Johnny Damon) vs. NL lifer vets (i.e. the Captivating Craig Counsell). I like when AL headhunters (Roger Clemens) are forced to bat, and face teams that may have a score to settle. And most of all, Jackie my boy, the dichotomy of these two cherished leagues just gives us another thing to argue about. For that, I am very grateful.

Brendan Leonard/John Lacey