The (Guest) Random Ten #24

(Ed. Note: This is a guest Random Ten written by work associate and singer/guitarist Nick Murphy. If you're in the Boston-area, look for his band, The Acre, playing fine venues all over the city)

1) The Frames – "Lay Me Down" - For The Birds (2001)

So far, so fucking good. The Frames are a band that never quite peaked here in the US, but areabsolutely massive (some say even bigger than U2) in their home country of Ireland. You may have heard of the band’s alter ego, the Swell Season, which consists of all the members of the Frames and the daughter of the Czech Republic, Marketa Irglova. Marketa and the Frames' incomparable front man, Glen Hansard, also starred in a quasi-documentary/musical a few years ago, Once, in which they won an Oscar for best original song.

While the Swell Season has flourished in playing increasingly larger venues across the US, the seven or so Frames records have remained relatively unknown and untouched. The band is marked as one of my top bands to see live and, fuck it, top bands ever. For Christ's sake, Glen Hansard is the reason I gave up being a teacher in college and took loads of poetry classes in the hopes of becoming a musician. Here’s to hoping …

“Lay Me Down” is the second track of the band’s most beloved album, For The Birds. The Frames have had quite a tumultuous experience with record labels so when it came time to record this one, they thought, “screw it, we’ll do it ourselves.” The result is an immaculate record produced in large part by 90s simmering rock producer, Steve Albini. While Albini worked extensively with the Pixies and Nirvana in the early 90s, the sound the Frames achieve with this record is nowhere near that of the raucous tilt de Frank Black and Kurt whats-his-face. Subtle textures and skewed flits of melody run rampant throughout the album, but the main focus is on Glen’s songwriting. Here, “Lay Me Down” is about “lovers, fathers and the cold, cold ground” as Glen once said at the Middle-East Upstairs in Boston. The song washes over you like a cool breeze with only the hint of a ghost in the form of a minor chord Glen tossed in as a wink to an ex-lover.

2) The Anniversary – "The Death Of The King" - Your Majesty (2001)

The early 2000s was a weird time for Midwestern, independent, emo-pop bands. With the rise of the Get Up Kids, the Promise Ring, the Anniversary, Hot Rod Circuit and other Moog-toting bands rounding out the Vagrant Records line-up, we saw an influx in sweater vests, horn-rimmed glasses and the sale of above-mentioned Moog synthesizers. Something happened after 1999 that changed the way these bands thought about their instruments. Maybe it was Y2K, Radiohead’s Kid A or the discovery of a band called the Rolling Stones, but everyone wanted to make more complex and interesting music. What the fuck right?

While the Get Up Kids went off and found Jesus (aka the Byrds’ Sweetheart Of The Rodeo), the Anniversary thumbed through their parents’ vinyl collection and realized, “hey … these albums from the late 60s don’t suck!” The result - Your Majesty. Maybe these kids were onto something; with the revival of late 60s pop more prevalent than ever today, maybe the Anniversary should give it another go. Or not.

3) Wilco – "My Darling" - Summerteeth (1999)

My first foray with Wilco’s saccharine-soaked pop-opus, Summerteeth, was in the movie I Am Trying To Break Your Heart. After Jay Bennett is excused from the band (we’ll save that worn path of the carpet for another day), we hear him playing a stripped-down-acoustic style of the song in what seems to be some high school auditorium while Tony Margherita (Wilco’s longtime manager) explains how shitty Jay’s life is after leaving Wilco. While I was stunned at the relative “bluntness” of Tony’s words (“Jay wore out his welcome”) I couldn’t help but notice the sullen and apropos version of “My Darling” Jay was playing for the soundtrack as Wilco moved on without him. One could make the argument the band hasn’t sounded the same since Jay left, but has the band ever sounded the same … ever? I will give it to him though, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is my favorite record of all time and I don’t think it would have been possible without Jay’s wild eccentrics.

From here I grew to love Wilco, find Tony Margherita’s name absolutely hysterical and could be the best defacto band manager name ever, and lament Jay’s 2009 death due to an accidental overdose while he was suing Wilco and the producer of the movie, Sam Jones, for royalties not rendered - a strange end to a really interesting musician.

4) The National - "Daughters Of The Soho Riots" - Alligator (2005)

Matt Berninger is my favorite lyricist, period. So shoot me – I don’t give a fuck. The guy can flat out write. He has this knack of writing what you’re feeling into these short, disjointed, arbitrary yet gorgeous images that depict loneliness, pent up aggression, self-doubt, anxiety and general musings on everyday interactions. His wife, former New Yorker editor and sometime the National songwriter Karin Besser, once said “the tension of sharing a small space with another adult is something he captures really well.” I couldn’t agree more, Karin.

This is especially true on the group’s third album, Alligator. Matt’s lyrics are murkier and darker than ever with lines in this song “break my arms around the one I love / be forgiven by the time my lover comes”, “you were right about the end it didn’t make a difference / everything I can remember I remember wrong”, and “I have your good clothes in the car / so cut your hair so no one knows / I have your dreams and your teeth marks / all my fingernails are painted.” I like to think Matt sits up late right after his wife goes to bed and writes these songs in the dark as he stares at the woman he loves and only feels anxiety about having someone rely on you. For his best pillow talk moments, check out “About Today” from the band’s EP Cherry Tree with the highlight: “’hey, are you awake?’ / ‘yeah, I’m right here’ / ‘well, can I ask you about today?’”

5) Local Natives – "Airplane" - Guerilla Manor (2009)

This is the first single of an absolutely stunning record by LA-based band Local Natives. If you haven’t heard of these fellas, please take a moment to punch yourself in the thigh and dig your head out of the sand.

I could go on forever about the drums, perfect California harmonies, and killer riffs on the rest of the album, but I’ll stick to this tune. On first listen you think this is a song about wanting an ex-lover back with the chorus reiterating “I want you back, back, back / I want you back.” In today’s “I’m so sad because she left me” culture it’s not out of the realm of reason. Psyche! It’s about the dude’s grandfather! But regardless of the lyrics, the dynamics, subtle and polite use of strings accompanied by the aforementioned harmonies create an absolutely gorgeous song.

6) Elliott Smith – "Amity" - XO (1998)

Oh Elliott, why did you leave us so fucking early? The last few years I’ve submitted to a hiatus from Mr. Smith - I spent my late teens and early 20s huffing Elliott Smith songs from a paper bag. But I think it’s high time I go see my local dealer (Newbury Comics) and sift through his vinyl (fuck you, I have all the albums but I’m a vinyl junkie).

After his Oscar nod and subsequent performance, Elliott signed to the dismal fuckers in Dreamworks Records (who only a few years later folded under the weight of being idiots). Thus Elliott had a much bigger budget to flesh out his previously recorded 4-track tunes. Being a big fan of the mid-60’s flash-in-the-pan heartthrobs, the Beatles, his albums grew denser with orchestration, John Bonhman-esque drums, keys and all-around better production quality (which some cite as a detriment to Mr. Smith’s songs). While his sound grew, his songwriting remained introspective and tight as his vocals remained on top of every mix - and rightfully so. No other track (save my favorite on the album, “Waltz #2”) demonstrates his new budget and affection for those mop-heads quite like “Amity.” “Amity” moves with an easy punch and demonstrates Elliott’s heavier songwriting prowess while showcasing his abilities as a guitar player (sneaky good), piano player and arranger. This song makes me miss him – I will dive back into his albums this rainy weekend.

7) Ray Lamontagne – "Barfly" - Till The Sun Turns Black (2006)

Ray is a weird dude. Painfully shy and a bit surly, he has one of the best voices in music. I remember reading an interview which he pretty much shat on every other singer in the world stating “everyone sings through their nose where I sing from the fire in my gut” or something like that. Maybe he was talking about indigestion, but I like to think he was being poetic.

Ray’s songs are often wrought with self-loathing and portray images of drinking gin in the middle of rain soaked field with your arms around the one you love, mud caked all over your clothes – my kind of guy! Ray hinted at those sentiments with his fantastic debut, Trouble, but really hit his stride with Till The Sun Turns Black. Produced with Ethan Johns (Ryan Adams’ Heartbreaker and Gold, Kings of Leon), this album sounds like it should – straight from the early 70s. I think there is something lost in today’s production techniques with the focus being more on blasting your ear drums into oblivion via stupid ear buds (guilty as charged), so it’s really nice to hear an album with so many subtle nuances that reward close listening. The Hammond B3 in the right channel, the wonderfully brushed drums, the harmony in the left channel and that fucking guitar tone – perfection.

8) Ryan Adams – "Answering Bell" - Gold (2001)

Speak of Mr. Productivity himself, Ryan Adams. Following his absolutely perfect break-up record, Heartbreaker (which has more celebrity cameos than an episode of 30 Rock … hiooooooo), Ryan took his new found success (and unfortunate happiness) into the studio to record his follow-up, Gold. Once the darling of the dwindling alt-Country movement, Ryan explores pop on this record while still keeping his toes in the Country water. The result is an overproduced, confusing and sometimes genius record. While Gold is full of hits and pop songs, that’s not what we completely want out of Ryan, is it? We want to hear him heartbroken, drunk and kind of pissed – well at least I do. And don’t get me wrong, I love songs off this album (I actually think “When The Stars Go Blue” is my favorite), just not the whole thing. He’s had a fistful flubs since this one (Demolition, most of RocknRoll, and all of 29), but I bow to the church of Ryan Adams look forward to his next opus.

Oh and “Answering Bell” – not on that list of songs I love off this record. Tempted to just say “next” but I don’t think those are the rules.

9) Okkervil River – "A Girl In Port" - The Stage Names (2007)

As we wind down this mix I want to congratulate my iPod on a shuffle well done – great job!

Okkervil River’s The Stage Names is the first part of a concept movement focusing mainly on the pitfalls, allure, mystery and sex behind fame and pop culture (Lady GaGa – you’ve been warned). And honestly, Will Sheff, Okkervil’s principle songwriter and lead man, shines when he’s got a concept to reign in all of his ideas. On their previous album, Black Sheep Boy, Sheff wrote about 3 albums worth of songs based on a minute-and-a-half Tim Hardin tune of the same name – you can see where I’m going here.

“A Girl in Port” is Sheff at his best: mellow, pensive, heart sore (“with my tender heard, with my easy heart”) and tired. Beyond Sheff’s own self, he’s plain-and-simple a great story teller going into great vague detail that creates a story in your head but tantalizes you enough to actually make it your own and decide on an end. Plus those fucking horns that close the song, like a depressed mariachi band – so good.

10) The Shins – "Turn On Me" - Wincing The Night Away (2007)

Ever have that relationship that you just feel like the other person hated you? That’s what this song is about or rather getting out of a relationship and being super angry at the other person and not in a “you’re such an asshole” way but more of “well, you were a waste of time you jerk. And you’re still an asshole!” Make sense? No it didn’t make sense to me either.

This song is a prime example of why James Mercer has caught the attention of so many people – his writing is witty, clever, cutting and precise. When he sings “You had to know I was fond of you / fond of Y-O-U” you almost cringe in thinking of the person who he’s seething at. And yes, James, adults do play “the most ridiculous, repulsive games.”

Mercer needs to get back with the guys from the Shins – as much as I’ve enjoyed Broken Bells (I’m actually sick of Danger Mouse – he’s overproduced every single band I really love [Beck, the Black Keys]). I want the jangle of the Shins back.

***
Well that was fun – I appreciate John letting me ramble. I’ll have to do it again sometime.

Nick Murphy

Forgotten Records #9: Metallica - St. Anger

Metallica
St. Anger
2003 Elektra

Why was it forgotten?

It depends on who you ask, but there are multiple reasons St. Anger has gone down in infamy as a forgotten/ignored album.

1) Lack of radio play. “St. Anger,” the song, was played on mainstream rock radio for about the first week that this album was out, back in June of 2003. However, something odd happened every time it was played; it was actually criticized by the DJs. Yes, mainstream rock radio DJs, who had no problems replaying the same Seven Mary Three or Bush songs from 1996 over and over again even seven years past their prime, were all of a sudden becoming music critics. “What’s up with the drum sound?” they asked. “Where are the guitar solos?” “Why is it so fast?” Once the DJs made their statements on the album, mainstream radio rock listeners, as they often do, followed suit, calling stations to complain about how bad the song was. I distinctly remember one WAAF caller that summer complaining that Metallica should record more songs like “Fuel,” which goes to show you how many true Metallica fans are rock radio listeners.

2) The production. I’m not going to say that St. Anger sounds great. The production is very abrasive, especially the sound of Lars Ulrich’s snare drum. The fact that it wasn’t played on radio is not surprising, based on the production alone. Rarely do you ever hear anything raw on the airwaves nowadays, and this was raw-bordering-on-bad production.

3) Lack of hooks/melodies. Sure, some of the songs have choruses, if you can count “Frantic-tic-tic-tic-tock!” repeated over and over again as a chorus. On the whole, though, there was nothing you could sing along with like “The Unforgiven” or “The Memory Remains” or even “Master of Puppets”. Sure, you could yell along with some of the choruses, but it wasn’t overly catchy or melodic, something that Metallica had generally always been, even back in the Kill ‘Em All days.

4) The songs are way, way too long. Long songs had always been part of Metallica’s repertoire, going all the way back to “Seek and Destroy”, but songs like that were generally filled with hooky, memorable, dynamic parts. Most songs on St. Anger sound like they were originally 3 or 4 minute long punk songs, but the band decided to play them twice in a row. If most of these songs were cut in half, they would be a lot better and easier to listen to repeatedly.

5) Lack of guitar solos. Kirk Hammett has always written some of the most memorable solos in heavy metal history. The fact that he was relegated to a second rhythm guitar on this album was flat-out offensive to most Metallica fans, and to guitar fans as well. Solos could have provided much needed breaks to these overly long, abrasive tracks, but there was no relief to be found. The scene in the Some Kind of Monster documentary where Hetfield, Ulrich and Rock talk Hammett out of recording guitar solos for the album is still painful to watch. Hammett rightly points out that by not including solos in the album, it dates the album to a period of music, a trend, and he’s dead-on. No mainstream metal or rock bands in the first few years of the decade had guitar solos on the radio, and Hammett wanted to defy that trend. Unfortunately, he lost that battle. At least the album didn’t end up sounding like Staind or KoRn, thankfully.

6) Songs didn’t translate well live. The only good recording of a song I’ve heard played live from St. Anger in concert (not counting the DVD of the band performing all of the album’s songs live in the studio that came with the CD release, which I actually liked a lot) was a live version of the song “Dirty Window,” the shortest, catchiest song on the album. It translated well live not just because of catchiness, but because they added a guitar solo to the live performance. This showed the potential that this song, and maybe the album, could have had if they’d let Hammett rip it up. Unfortunately, I witnessed Metallica play “Frantic” (a song that, musically, is very solid) and “St. Anger” live on the Summer Sanitarium tour in 2003, and despite shortening both songs from their original album length, they just sounded out-of-place. Most people use “Nothing Else Matters” as the “piss break song,” but I saw a mass exodus for the bathroom stalls during these two performances.

Should it be forgotten?

Metallica have said repeatedly that Death Magnetic (which I reviewed here) would never have happened if they hadn’t gone through the trials and tribulations of St. Anger. For that reason, St. Anger should not be forgotten. The band was on the verge of falling apart during the 3 year process of making St. Anger. Bassist Jason Newsted had left the band after 14 years, leaving them with producer Bob Rock to fill his shoes on the album. James Hetfield checked himself into rehab, and basically left the band hanging for nearly a full year. The band hired Phil Towle, a “therapist for the stars,” to help “coach” them on how to get along and how to function.

Upon Hetfield’s return from rehab, there was resentment, bitterness, judgment being passed at every corner, and an overall bad vibe among band members. St. Anger is a collection of bad vibes and inner demons being purged. It is the only Metallica album where Ulrich and Hammett contributed lyrics as well as music. The lyrics might not be as poetic or intelligent as some of Hetfield’s earlier compositions, but they are nothing if not honest. The lyrics document not just one man’s inner struggle, but three men who were once close as brothers struggling to rediscover themselves and move on in a positive direction.

A Metallica fan would say that the band needed to go through the growing pains of St. Anger to move on and reclaim their throne as the most dominant force in metal today. A fan most likely has seen Some Kind of Monster and has come to respect the agony they endured making the album. But is the album actually any good? There are some great riffs and some decent songs sprinkled throughout, but it’s not an album most would care to listen to on a regular basis. It is abrasive, harsh, aggressive, raw, but undeniably powerful. There has never been an album like St. Anger, before or since, by any band. It is a truly unique piece of work, and for that, it should not be forgotten.

Matt Steele

The Random Ten #23

These are easy and fun to write, so here you go! I’m also going to start embedding what I consider to be the best or most interesting song into the article, depending on YouTube availability. It only took me 2 ½ years to figure out how to do that!

#1) Led Zeppelin – “The Rover” – Physical Graffiti (1975)

As seen in Random Ten #21. Let’s try again.

#1) Bob Marley & the Wailers – “One Love/People Get Ready” – Exodus (1977)

Ahh, new! And incredibly famous. You ever hear this one?

Bob Marley gets an unfortunate bad rap because every asshole in college has that mosaic poster of him smoking a joint (I had it, too!). He was somehow morphed into a posthumous crusader for white, teenaged pot smokers and his music has become subsidiary to that ever-present image of him with the weed smoke coming out of his mouth. And that’s too bad, because Bob Marley has a lot of really good music that will be dismissed by many offhand simply due to the nature of his fans. Just like a great number of rappers and bands like U2 and Dave Matthews Band, an artist doesn’t necessarily suck just because a bunch of morons follow them. Except 311. They fucking blow.

#2) Dave Matthews Band – “#41” – Listener Supported (1999; this is a live album. “#41” originally appeared on Crash [1996])

Speaking of the well-dressed, flatbrim-hatted, “I totally like all music, brah, even though I listen to two bands” devil.

You know what this song reminds me of? Driving around North Andover smoking weed and delivering pizzas as a teenager. I was so (not) awesome. People looked at my shitbox Buick and heard “#41” blaring out the windows and must have thought, “That guy is a fucking loser.”

But to those hypothetical people of the past I say that “#41” is a really good song. Matthews can come across as creepy and desperate in some of his love songs, but in “#41” he mostly hits the right notes. Maybe some of his and the band’s success can be attributed to his “everyman” voice. He’s a crooner, but he doesn’t have the voice for it. This works in his favor in this case because he sounds like any other person in love except with the ability to articulate it. The simple guitars and the horns don’t allow the track to delve into uncomfortable sappiness, so it never feels completely emasculating or embarrassing. The prerequisite jam, however, is really, really, boring. This is a good pop song; I know it’s live and everything, but the jamming here doesn’t elaborate or improve on anything. It just makes me forget the good parts.

#3) U2 – “Mofo” – Pop (1997)

Just because I mentioned these bands doesn’t mean I want to listen to them. You may remember Pop as the album that had that song where the members of U2 dressed up like the Village People for the video. That’s about all I remember of it. I want to say critical opinion was dismal, but I’m sure the album sold like a hundred million copies anyway.

I really want to listen to the rest of this record, because if all of it sounds like “Mofo” it is amazing that one of the biggest rock bands in the world escaped this relatively unscathed. I think U2 was going for some sort of house/trance/techno/rock hybrid here, which just sounds really weird from them. I appreciate that they had the balls (and the status) to try something like this, but “Mofo” is not a pleasant listen. This sounds like the music you hear during some futuristic fight scene in a shitty movie like Underworld. Not good at all, but an interesting one-time curiosity.

#4) Beck – “The Horrible Fanfare/Landslide/Exoskeleton” – The Information (2006)

I feel like I wrote about this song in a Random Ten once but I can’t seem to find that. This does, however, give me cause to dust off my old column on The Information. Recycling!

Where U2 sounds odd trying out radically different forms of music, Beck sounds at home, no matter what he does. He could release an album of Cat Stevens covers playing nothing but a Theremin and no one would bat an eye. I bet it would be awesome, too.

You may guess this track is split into a few movements. “The Horrible Fanfare” is the first, and it lives up to its billing. Airy, dark and haunting, the first two minutes of the track sound like a drum machine death march. “Landslide” is more straightforward and inviting, but still lumbers along slowly. Bits of light are allowed through only via Beck’s up tempo vocals and some piano flourishes. “Exoskeleton” then returns the track to insanity, featuring ambient noises and spoken word dialogue about God knows what.

What’s cool about Beck is that he never comes off as pretentious. This song is a great example. All sorts of crazy shit is happening, and though this isn’t a great listen, none of his embellishments induce an eye roll or an exasperated “jeez”. The end of the song with the disembodied male voice talking about spacecrafts and exoskeletons over beatless droning? That’s just Beck.

#5) Dr. Dog – “I Hope There’s Love” – We All Belong (2007)

Dr. Dog has a great feel for melody and how even the simplest vocal harmony can make a song memorable. “I Hope There’s Love” resembles a lo-fi Beatles in this respect; overtly simple but incredibly effective. The entire song is nothing but tinny vocals and what sounds like one of those terrible children’s keyboards playing an accordion tone. It works.

#6) Bone Thugs-n-Harmony – “Friends” – The Art Of War (1997)

The Art Of War is one of my favorite records ever because it was such a colossal misstep. After the success of E. 1999 Eternal (“Crossroads”, “1st Of Tha Month”), Bone Thugs decided that the best follow up would be a double disc record, forcing listeners to slog through 28 songs. A double-disc usually isn’t a good idea for even the most prolific, proggy, “intelligent” rock group, but for a rap combo whose primary subject matter is how much weed they smoke? Death. They never truly recovered from this.

Before I started the track I was hoping they might incorporate the hook from Whodini’s 1984 hit of the same name, and they do! Of course, that makes me want to hear that other song and not this one. When the beat is right and the hook is memorable, Bone Thugs can actually sound pretty good. But when the indecipherable lyrics are piled on top of a boring melody, as happens here, patience and tolerance don’t last long.

#7) Pantera – “Hard Lines, Sunken Cheeks” – Far Beyond Driven (1994)

When I first heard Pantera, I deemed them the heaviest metal band on earth. What other band could be heavier? Well, I had yet to hear death metal bands who sung about stabbing fetuses with ice picks or black metal bands who loved Satan so much that they actually burned down churches. When I did find out about those other bands, I was content to solidify myself a few rungs up on the heavy metal ladder. Pantera’s fine. Rotting Christ might be a bit much.

“Hard Lines, Sunken Cheeks”, like most of Far Beyond Driven, is incredibly methodical. The song is a seven minute dirge. Pantera eschews some of the melodies and relative lightness of a lot of thrash metal. Their music is often legitimately scary. Singer Phil Anselmo’s scowl halfway through the track would foreshadow some of his later work in various black metal groups. His menacing and off-putting grunting in the last minute of the track, coupled with the spiraling and whiny guitars, sounds particularly demonic. “Hard Lines, Sunken Cheeks” isn’t pleasant, but it arguably captures Pantera at their most evil, and may be worth a cursory listen just for that.

(It’s also amazing that an album that originally had this as a cover debuted at #1 on the Billboard album charts.)

#8) The Jayhawks – “Sioux City” – Blue Earth (1989)

May as well revisit these guys! This is such a drastic change from the last track that I think I need a minute to cleanse my palette. This sounds like a song from Aladdin to me right now.

OK. Actually, it sounds like Johnny Cash. Very simple all around, very pleasant throughout. “Sioux City” is a nice three minute ditty with a good chorus, nice changes, and good guitar parts. This is a standard “pretty good” alt-country song.

#9) Phish – “Weigh” – Slip Stitch And Pass (1997; this is a live album. “Weigh” originally appeared on Rift [1993])

You know what this song reminds me of? Driving around North Andover smoking weed and delivering pizzas as a teenager.

Slip Stitch And Pass seems antiquated now because pretty much every concert the band has ever performed is available for sale or download. I’d still argue that it is near essential for Phish fans, however, because it presents the band at a high point in their career (early 1997) playing very tight and concise songs. “Weigh” is only a few seconds longer than on Rift, but the band sounds like they’re having fun on it, working in their experimental style within the shortened time limit. Maybe that’s why the album is so interesting. Phish doesn’t sound abridged here; nothing sounds missing on “Weigh” or elsewhere on the record. It’s just that even their live performances can occasionally benefit from temperance and brevity.

#10) Steely Dan – “Throw Back The Little Ones” – Katy Lied (1975)

Steely Dan kinda sounds like a cheesy jazz lounge act. An awesome cheesy jazz lounge act. Unconventional vocals, great piano, really smart in both lyrics and arrangements. Steele Dan always manages to be genuinely and happily surprising, deviating from the path to take the song somewhere unexpected but also essential. “Throw Back The Little Ones” contains a lot of great moments like this, including a simple, wonderful piano outro that serves as the finale for both the song and the record.

John Lacey

I'm Checkin' 'Em Out - Songs: Ohia

Welcome to a new column at the Musicarium, “I’m Checkin’ ‘Em Out”. My friends are all big music fans, and I’m constantly being told to check this band out, listen to this album, you should buy this, etc. This column will take a look at one song by a band I’ve heard good things about and will help determine if they warrant further inspection. At the end, I’ll label the song as a “Yea” (good!), a “Nay” (bad!), or a “Meh” (don’t really give a shit to ever hear them again). You may say it’s not fair to boil an artist’s catalogue down to one random song I found on YouTube, but I say I don’t care.

Songs: Ohia
“Farewell Transmission”
Magnolia Electric Co.
2003 Secretly Canadian

To be upfront, I’ve experienced some previous songs of Songs: Ohia through Pandora. I don’t remember what any of the song titles were and I had never heard “Farewell Transmission” before, so I still think this fits within the guidelines. I do remember that I liked what I had heard. I remember those songs being minimalistic, sparse, and quite eerie, like Sun Kil Moon with the volume turned down even lower. Yearning for something, anything, to listen to that also sounds like Sun Kil Moon, I thought back to Songs: Ohia, and found “Farewell Transmission” on YouTube.

This is a complete departure from what I had heard before. The guitar riffs are grimy and dirty and endlessly repetitive, but in that kickass Neil Young sort of way. The guitar is instantly memorable, containing enough power to carry the song all the way through seven and a half minutes with only limited variation.

Much like some of those elongated, stretched out Neil Young songs that are carried by a central, repeating guitar part, the changes in “Farewell Transmission” are treated as monumental occurrences. Tangibly, the choruses are louder and are accompanied by harmonizing backing vocals. But they’re meant more as a release from those repeating portions, more as a blow off. Songs: Ohia (and principal songwriter/guitarist Jason Molina) gets this just right. The choruses boom, providing a sense that the verses are truly building to something. When the song bridges back to the verse riff, after those changes, it’s rejuvenating to hear it again. In a way, “Farewell Transmission” feeds itself.

This song and others like it prove that lyrics can stand out without Bob Dylan-level wordsmithing. The strength and simplicity of the tune work with what sound like pieced together lyrics. I’ve found myself singing the words without knowing what they mean. A passage towards the beginning shows Molina half singing and half stating the lines as a matter of fact, not unlike Stephen Malkmus of Pavement: “Someone must have set ‘em up / Now they’ll be working in the cold gray rock / Now they’ll be working in the hot mill steam / Now they’ll be working in the concrete”. With this style of singing and the terrific music behind it, the lyrics gain a level of natural authority. When Molina sings, “I will be gone, but not forever”, I believe him, though I don’t know what I’m supposed to be believing.

I can safely put this in the category of “Yea”. I’ll be purchasing this album and others just like it very soon.

John Lacey

From the Library #3: Harry Nilsson - The Point!

Harry Nilsson
The Point!
1971 RCA Victor

My travels to the library are good for my music collection in a few ways. The first, obviously, is that I’m adding to it, checking out albums that are either missing from my collection or albums I’ve been meaning to take a listen to. In the first and second “From the Library” columns, I discussed records by two of my favorite artists that had somehow slipped through my anal-retentive, perennially accumulating grasp. But the library is also good for stockpiling music; creating a nearly never ending current of new, good music that I can turn to. Some of it I’m completely unfamiliar with, like the subject of today’s “From the Library” column, Harry Nilsson. I vacillated between writing about Nilsson and another famed singer/songwriter, Tom Waits, both of whom I’ve never listened to and know nothing about. I’ve heard tremendous things about both, but Nilsson’s album The Point! is a new checkout from this past week, and being fresh in my mind, it won out.

A cursory glance at Wikipedia (which also provides many of the album facts in this and the following paragraph) tells me that The Point! is a children’s tale about a boy named Oblio. Oblio lives in a mythical place called the Pointed Village, where according to law everything must have a point, including its residents. Oblio has a round head, and this causes some problems for him and lessons are learned. Nilsson apparently said of the how he came to this idea, “I was on acid and I looked at the trees and I realized they all came to points, and the little branches came to points, and the houses came to a point. I thought, ‘Oh! Everything has a point, and if it doesn’t, then there’s a point to it.’” This whole project may sound like the delusions of a drug fueled madman, but I’ve heard dumber ideas for a concept album before.

An animated film of the same name was released in 1971, airing on ABC. Dustin Hoffman originally voiced the narrator, who was also the father of Oblio in the story. Mike Lookinland (Bobby Brady) performed the voice of Oblio. Later versions had to be released due to legal issues, with both Ringo Starr and Alan Thicke voicing the narrator in subsequent editions. There was even a 1975 live musical based on The Point!, with lead roles in the London production being performed by two members of the Monkees. Sadly, on the album version, Nilsson handles narration duties.

As someone who has never listened to Harry Nilsson, he showcases a very distinct Beatles sound throughout The Point! He had been a close friend to members of the Beatles, particularly John Lennon, and Nilsson’s succinct craftsmanship owes them a debt of gratitude. The album features a number of songs tied together by one to two minute long narrative tracks, where Nilsson tells Oblio’s tale and tries to give the listener a sense of what these songs are about. It doesn’t always work. Though the music is always pleasant, the story goes wayward several times. After Oblio is kicked out of the Pointed Village for being a roundhead, the following songs are about bodies decomposing in the sea and about how Thursdays are the craziest days of the week. Maybe it’s designed for kids and they eat this shit up, I’m not sure. But it didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me even in the context of the simple storyline.

The music is always good but never attention getting. Third track “Me and My Arrow”, middle-of-the-record cuts “Think About Your Troubles” and “Thursday (Why I Did Not Go to Work Today), and penultimate track “Are You Sleeping?” are all quite charming 70s pop songs but really don’t radiate well and they sound dated. The album does succeed in creating a dreamlike and cheerfully otherworldly atmosphere, however, suitable for the fantastical subject matter of the record and the fantastical state of mind Nilsson was in when he came up with these ideas. The Point! comes off as a second-rate cross between Dr. Seuss and Sesame Street, but it does efficiently mimic enough of their elements to create an enjoyable experience.

Though The Point! doesn’t fit together very well, there is a real sense of adventure on this record. The subject matter obviously contributes, but these songs, while somewhat flat, are playful, whimsical, and charming. As a unit, The Point! works to at least create a fun and unique atmosphere unlike much else I’ve seen in pop.

C+

John Lacey

Commercially Viable - Golden Corral

I really don’t like television advertisements. I find them all to be some degree of insulting or annoying. They continually act as a barrier, preventing me from watching the program I’m trying to watch. I’ve never understood the anticipation of the new Super Bowl ads; they’re fucking commercials! We don’t like them every other day of the year. Why do we pretend to care about the newest talking dog Bud Light commercial?

In the best of cases, commercials are white noise. They pass without incident and without fanfare. But in the worst of cases, a television ad is an affront to me personally as a consumer or even a person. “Commercially Viable” will discuss those commercials that make you lunge for the remote whenever they appear, or cause you to talk to yourself about just how stupid that commercial is.

Our first entry is a 2010 (I think) Golden Corral ad. Golden Corral is a chain of Applebee’s-esque casual dining restaurants found throughout the United States. Judging by the Golden Corral website store locator, Golden Corral seems to be most prevalent around the southeastern seaboard, with a large number of locations in North Carolina, Georgia, and Florida. Thankfully there’s only one location here in Massachusetts, located in the western city of Springfield, a city I don’t envision wanting or having to go to again.

This is only a thirty-second spot (there may have been a longer one originally that was cut to this length), but boy, does it pack in the shitty. We open with some fat jerk, his “just pretty enough for a commercial” wife and his two middle-school aged children standing at a microphone. The premise of the ad is that the man and his family want a lot of good food with all the fixin’s, and they’re whittling down all of the available choices by asking a series of inane questions to a group of people who represent different restaurants. Think of it as a gluttonous, high-cholesterol version of “Guess Who?” If the restaurant doesn’t have what they’re looking for, POOF! They fall through a trap door, and the fat guy and his wife continue to ask their rib-related questions to the others.

The father in the commercial states, “We’re in the mood for baby back ribs for dinner tonight. Who’s got ‘em?” Is this normal? All four members of a family want the same thing, and beyond that, they all want to eat ribs? I can see the fatso father wanting ribs, but the dainty and skinny wife? The twelve year old girl? They want ribs too?

After eliminating some of the self-respecting franchises who know their limitations and don’t try and pull off fifth-rate ribs, moron throws out this gem: “And we’re hungry, so it’s gotta be all you can eat.” All you can eat? First of all, the father in the ad definitely shouldn’t be eating all-you-can-eat anything, except maybe grass. He’s visibly overweight and would probably be a heart attack risk if he actually tried to gorge himself at Golden Corral’s all-you-can-eat rib buffet extravaganza.

But secondly, who the fuck is so ridiculous as to require unlimited food for their dinner? Really? The normal serving of ribs just can’t possibly satiate you? I really don’t think there is anyone, even the fattest people in this country, who legitimately think like this. There is no one thinking, “For dinner tonight, I want ribs. But I don’t want to worry about portions or anything. What I’d like for dinner is all of the ribs I can possibly eat.”

Never mind that even a normal plate of ribs would probably be too much for the wife and the two small children. They need all-you-can-eat ribs too, apparently, because now mom chimes in. You see, they don’t just want ribs, and they don’t just want the all-you-can-eat variety. They want them as part of an endless buffet (which I imagine includes an assortment of microwaved vegetables and other meats), and they want them for ten dollars.

Ahem.

If you’re the kind of person who actually thinks, “I’d like all-you-can-eat ribs for dinner tonight”, are you really going to pull punches when it comes to cost? I like to imagine this family rib shopping, calling every restaurant within fifty miles asking about rib availability and pricing. Dad hits the jackpot: “Honey, Longhorn Steakhouse has a rib buffet!” But mom, ever the wet blanket, responds, “Is it around $10? Remember, we’re on a budget.” Then dad solemnly hangs up the phone, cursing Longhorn Steakhouse and its $15 rib festival, and reopens the phonebook.

Our discussion of this commercial wouldn’t be complete without mentioning the wormy Golden Corral spokesman, who smugly drops his dumbass catchphrase (“Thanks for dropping by”) in his stupid Alan Seuss voice when the family finds that their idiotic cuisine requirements can be met by his restaurant. I don’t have anything witty to say here, except that his catchphrase, his stupid face, and the way he raises his eyebrows make me hate this commercial about fifty thousand times more.

We go through a little spiel about what the offer actually is, come on down to Golden Corral, blah blah bullshit bullshit. Thankfully, we get one more scene of the family wolfing down this swill, providing the dad an opportunity to channel Jay Leno with his incredulous “Ten bucks??? Glad we dropped by! (hahaha)” pseudo-joke.

This commercial is the perfect storm. It’s like being on the Hindenburg, except that you also have yellow fever. The family is awful. The food looks awful. The wormy guy is awful. The premise is absolutely god-awful. And since Golden Corral seems to be the official sponsor of MLB Network, and they have now produced several of these types of commercials, the idea of having to see them multiple times a day is frightening.

John Lacey

The Random Ten #22

#1) String Cheese Incident – “San Jose” - On The Road: Atlanta, GA 4/21/02 (2002; this is a live album, the song originally appeared on A String Cheese Incident [1997])

Count me as someone who really likes songs named after places. “San Jose” appears on the second String Cheese Incident record and is here presented from an April 2002 concert.

I wrote two Random Ten’s ago that I’m always happy to see String Cheese Incident show up on a Random Ten. “San Jose” ensures that this sentiment remains true. A lot of String Cheese Incident songs sound exactly the same, and “San Jose” sounds an awful lot like nearly every other song I’ve ever heard from this band. I’m not going to call String Cheese Incident one of my favorite groups, but that similar sound is always effective and pleasant, and in small doses it can be borderline euphoric.

“San Jose” runs nearly ten minutes, and contains a nice repeating piece where the music stops entirely to allow the audience to yell “Woo!” in unison. String Cheese Incident is good at changing up their winning but redundant formula just enough so that their songs have some new hook or something just different enough to make you care. They aren’t musical geniuses, but it’s fun, so who gives a shit?

#2) String Cheese Incident – “Texas” – Born On The Wrong Planet (1997)

Uh, OK. Hey, it’s another String Cheese Incident song! And it’s also named after a place! And guess how long it is?!?

I just blew my String Cheese bead, so I don’t have a lot of interesting things to say about them right now. I will say “Texas” is a more engaging song than “San Jose”, taking a more subdued tone and telling more of a story. It benefits from being a tad darker, but String Cheese Incident doesn’t fully commit to that direction, leading to a bizarre and disharmonic chorus which begins on a dark note and ends on a lighter one. A Spanish sounding jam basically closes out “Texas”, fitting rather awkwardly with what came before. It’s not great, but “Texas” does see String Cheese Incident trying to expand their sound, and it’s hard to fault them for that.

#3) Red House Painters – “Mistress (Piano Version)” – Red House Painters (Rollercoaster) (1993)

Red House Painters was the original band of singer/songwriter Mark Kozelek, now touring and releasing records under his own name and the Sun Kil Moon moniker. I’ve gushed on this blog over Sun Kil Moon and Kozelek’s work in general, and I’m sure you can find some of those articles on the blog history to the right. The gist of it: I think he’s fucking awesome.

But he ain’t for the faint of heart. Kozelek is morose, endlessly sentimental and regretful, and his music reflects that. His attitudes help make his music so good, but it’s certainly not for everyone, and probably should be listened to alone if only so others don’t think you’re a psychopath or (if male) hopelessly effeminate.

“Mistress” is included elsewhere on Red House Painters as a rock number (hence this different “piano version”) and here Kozelek slows everything down. His piano is the only instrument on the track, and during the chorus it builds on itself and provides a faint tease that it might take off. Wisely, it doesn’t, and what we’re left with is a triumph on an album full of them.

#4) Oasis – “Stop Crying Your Heart Out” – Heathen Chemistry (2002)

Out of twenty-two Random Tens, Oasis has appeared on five. I feel like they’ve been showing in every recent column. If we’re applying Musicarium sabremetrics, Oasis is appearing at a 23% clip, causing me to curse myself for taking all of their albums from a friend’s hard drive for free years ago.

I’ve written so much about them that there’s not a lot more to say. Big, dumb rock band, usually sound good, etc. So instead of rehashing that, I’ll write about how lame “Stop Crying Your Heart Out” is. Adding strings does not add emotional gravity to your music. This sounds like a retread of the warmed over stuff they were doing two years prior on Standing On The Shoulder Of Giants. The chorus is mind-numbingly cheesy and the whole exercise has the unmistakable top 40 musk of Matchbox 20 all over it. Crappy, crappy, crappy. Of course, because this is Oasis, the song has to be at least five minutes long.

#5) Modest Mouse – “What People Are Made Of” – The Moon & Antarctica (2000)

“What People Are Made Of” is the final track on perhaps the finest Modest Mouse album of all. It’s a perfect closer, at times abrupt, chaotic, deliberate, even delicate, taking the varied components of the record itself and encapsulating them into one final song.

I’ve always admired Modest Mouse’s raw yet processed power. Modest Mouse songs like this one and like countless others seem on the surface to be completely out of control, but there is order and structure. There are hooks, strong choruses, movements that make sense for a band writing thoughtful but traditional rock music. This might be hard to hear within their oft-maniacal music, and “What People Are Made Of” is a good place to listen for it.

#6) The Black Crowes – “Jam #2” – The Band Sessions (1997; not an official release)

“The Band Sessions” were studio recordings from 1997 which were supposed to result in a new album. The band did release an album, By Your Side (1999), after cancelling the recording sessions for what was to become Band and scrapping what songs they had put together. Many of those songs ended up being released on the Lost Crowes compilation album (2006), which rounded up a number of those lost songs and put them out officially.

You can probably guess that “Jam #2” never made it onto Lost Crowes. It’s a two minute and forty-five second jam, most likely unrehearsed and created on the spot. I don’t really see the need to listen to this again.

#7) The Smashing Pumpkins – “1979” – Mellon Collie And The Infinite Sadness (1995)

Ahh, Christmas 1995. I got a boom box and my first CD’s, among them Mellon Collie And The Infinite Sadness. The others? A Boy Named Goo, some shitty Edwin McCain album, Sixteen Stone, and I think the first Silverchair record.

I remember “1979” hadn’t been released as a single by that time, so I listened to lead single “Bullet With Butterfly Wings” thirty times in a row. For a twelve year old, Mellon Collie was a daunting task, boasting twenty-eight songs split over two discs. I poked around, not caring for much else that I found because I would only give each song three seconds to grab me. But I did find “1979”, and when it broke big, it was “my song” the one I found and appreciated before anyone else.

It’s still a great song, sixteen years later. I have a difficult time divorcing the song from the video (you know, the one with all of the kids making out and going to parties and jumping into a pool or something). The song worked great with that video, which was about teenagers being teenagers and doing teenage things. Even though the record was released four or five years before I reached my partying teenage years, I now listen to the song and picture myself, as a teenager, in that video. Talk about staying power.

#8) Drive-By Truckers – “Zip City” – A Southern Rock Opera (2001)

One of the best songs by one of the best bands on earth. “Zip City” is narrated by a Southern teenage boy, who relays the story of his courtship of a younger girl and wondering why he wastes his time. The song is absolutely punishing in its delivery, managing to be both catchy and bleak at the same time, the perfect tone for its subject matter.

The real wonder of “Zip City” is in its lyrics, when the narrator tells the girl exactly what he feels towards her (pardon the formatting, this website is awful and I'm actively looking for a new one):

Maybe it’s the twenty six mile drive From Zip City to Colbert Heights

That keeps my mind clean, Gets me through the night

Maybe you’re just a destination, A place for me to go,

That keeps me from having to deal With my seventeen year old mind all alone

So keep your drawers on girl, It ain’t worth the fight

By the time you drop them I’ll be gone And you’ll be right where they fall the rest of your life

Singer/guitarist Mike Cooley turns in the finest performance of his career on “Zip City”, with his whirling guitar solos adding weight to every word. It’s a must-hear.

#9) moe. – “Buster” – No Doy (1996)

Yeah. Going from “Zip City” to “Buster” is like going from an Aston-Martin to a Geo Tracker. Though I’m predisposed to be upset at moe. and “Buster” because they are following “Zip City”, I’ll do my best to be impartial.

moe., as a jam band, certainly shares some traits with the twice aforementioned String Cheese Incident. “Buster” is a light and airy song akin to String Cheese’s “San Jose” that we heard earlier. I’d consider moe. to be a more interesting group than String Cheese Incident, because they’re less tentative to experiment with shifts in their tone and are willing to try new things. Their follow up to No Doy, 1998’s Tin Cans And Car Tires, shows moe. travelling as far across the musical spectrum as the confines of being a jam band will allow them to, yet they retain the same signature sound they had developed for themselves previous to that release.

One thing I’ve often wondered is why jam bands release studio records at all. “Buster” sounds alright, and it might bring the house down live, but in the context of a record it’s a tedious bore. Jam bands have released strong, cohesive records (see Phish: Farmhouse, Billy Breathes) and also putrid, not-so-cohesive records (see Phish: Joy, Undermind). But I’d rather a band try something new, even to see it fail, than release an immediately superfluous album. If No Doy’s version of “Buster” is more polished but less engaging and ultimately less fun than a live version, why do I need this?

#10) Sonic Youth – “Eric’s Trip” – Daydream Nation (originally released 1988; this is a live version of the song released on the deluxe reissue of the album in 2007)

I’ve heard Sonic Youth is really good from a whole lot of people. I don’t know this firsthand because for some reason I’ve never bothered to listen to them. Every other time I’ve given a good listen to a heavily influential indie rock band, from Pavement to Dinosaur Jr. to Guided By Voices, I’ve ended up liking them, so I’d imagine this would be no different.

I don’t know if this live version of “Eric’s Trip”, recorded in Dusseldorf in 1989, is the place to start. It’s very sloppy and noisy, and though I imagine that’s part of Sonic Youth’s charm, it’s hard to get a good handle on them in this environment. I appreciate a blistering three-minute romp as much as anyone, however, and I admire the energy and primitive hooks evident in this performance. There’s definitely enough here to warrant further inspection.

John Lacey