Friday, July 22, 2011

More Rolling Stone Fallout

I know there are many people who will look at Rolling Stone’s “100 Best Albums of the 2000s” and think something along the lines of “all of these albums are great albums and deserving of being on this list” or “Get Rich or Die Tryin’ changed my life”.  People are entitled to whatever opinion they have, but sometimes in our music buying ways I think we place too much emphasis on an artist’s or band’s popularity and less on that artist’s or band’s art they’re releasing to us.  This list feels like the former.

I won’t deny that the Killers’ Hot Fuss deserved to be here; it does, because in the two years that followed its release the band released several killer singles (“Somebody Told Me”, “Mr. Brightside”, “Smile Like You Mean It”) and had an influence on a few bands that followed, even if the rest of the album didn’t reach the standards of those songs.  On the other hand, I have a hard time justifying Stadium Arcadium by the Red Hot Chili Peppers being as high as it was on the list (#74).  The Chilis have been a favorite band of mine for a long time, but even I can’t deny that their sound has been more or less the same since their last great record, Californication, came out.  Stadium was more about quantity than it was about quality to me.  There were few catchy tunes where I thought “Wow, they haven’t dropped a beat from Blood Sugar Sex Magix!”  Large chunks of it sounded like Kiedis was droning lyrics and Frusciante was noodling on guitar.  Had that album been edited down to one disc instead of two with the best tracks on the table, I would have argued the exact opposite.

I thought some of the album choices for certain artists were off.  For instance, the Rolling Stone list had Attack & Release (#83) from one of my current favorite bands, the Black Keys.  I like that album a lot (it did have “I Got Mine” and “Strange Times”), but if I were to choose any album of theirs for this list, it would be Rubber Factory, which had more quality songs (this could be a case where they selected the more popular album than the more artistic album, but I digress).  Another is indie band the Hold Steady’s Almost Killed Me (#99); I would have put Separation Sunday, which received better reviews and essentially started the trilogy of albums that created more buzz around them.  Beck’s Sea Change album (#17) was good but didn’t have nearly the popularity as Guero did, and Guero had better singles.  They put Electric Version (#79) from the New Pornographers in but not Twin Cinema.  Some stuff just didn’t make any sense.  And why in the world did they include Rated R (#82) from Queens of the Stone Age and not include Songs for the Deaf.  Songs for the Deaf single-handedly changed my opinion of rock music in the middle of the decade (I could love it again).

There were albums and artists I felt Rolling Stone did right in including.  Kanye West has four albums on here; two of them are landmark rap albums (The College Dropout @ #10 and Late Registration @ #40), and one of them didn’t get nearly the credit it deserved (808s and Heartbreak @ #63 kicked off artists’ love of auto-tune, for better and worse).  Jay-Z has his two best from the period:  The Black Album (#14) and The Blueprint (#4).  Radiohead has four albums here; Kid A is #1, and I have a hard time wrapping my mind around that.  Kid A was a good record but not a landmark record, especially for them.  I wouldn’t even put Kid A in the top four of albums they have released, let alone #1 on a “Best of” list.
I was also happy with some of the surprise artists on here—Amadou & Mariam, The Hives, Yo La Tengo, Elliott Smith.  The albums they chose for these artists (with the exception of The Hives’ Veni Vidi Vicious) I might take exception with to another better record, but those are quibbles.  Spoon gets Kill the Moonlight in at #51, and I was glad to see Britt Daniel and company get recognition. 

This all leads back to one of my points from earlier, which is Rolling Stone needs to commit to an audience (those infatuated with pop culture) and just leave the other audience to find their own magazines (the indies).  By trying to add a little color through putting some indie albums on their list, they think they can appeal to a wider audience.  In reality, they’re missing out on a ton of albums that more deserve to be on here than the Only by the Night’s and Kid A’s of the music world.  The more I read their lists, the more disenchanted with them I become.  I love their music coverage, but the lists are just conversation pieces, not recommendations for music to hear.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Why Rolling Stone Is a Screwed-Up Magazine

For years I have read and re-read Rolling Stone magazines, primarily for their music news and reviews.  They have lured me in with “Top” lists and “Best of” lists.  Some of these have been good; some of these have been garbage.  All in all, though, they’re still a decent source for music news, and some of their music reporters (David Fricke, Rob Sheffield) have written some amazing pieces on music.

I originally went to their website today to find an article about the Black Keys in the studio when I stumbled upon the “100 Best Albums of the ‘00s” (http://www.rollingstone.com/music/lists/100-best-albums-of-the-2000s-20110718).  Intrigued, I stopped my search and took a look at this list.  What I saw baffled me.  One comment spoke most intensely to me; basically the commenter said “no Animal Collective record on here makes this list basically irrelevant”.  After looking at the list, I think the commenter is right.

I have come to the conclusion, after reading through the list (including the captions with the albums), that the whole thing is about which artists were popular during the decade and what albums they released.  Basically, it’s more of a pop culture snapshot than it is a list of the best records released during the period.  I guess too much indie is a bad thing.  You have to give credit to the artists that actually sold a boat load of records (or digital tracks).  Oddly, the magazine tried to appeal to the readers that have an appreciation for all music, regardless of whether the albums were a commercial success or not.

Keeping in mind that the magazine’s editors have created a pop culture list while trying (ineffectively) to maintain one foot in the indie door, I decided I would comment on a few of the artists and albums listed here.  I’ll start with an easy one here—U2.  U2 is represented by three albums here: How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb (#68), No Line on the Horizon (#36), and All That You Can’t Leave Behind (#13).  U2 is a fantastic band; I have been a fan of theirs since I first heard “Pride (In the Name of Love)”, though I didn’t really appreciate them until Achtung Baby came out.  The three albums on this list are by far not their best records.  They’re not bad records, but these records are really only on here because of a couple of singles: “Beautiful Day” from All That You Can’t and “Vertigo” from How to Dismantle (why No Line is even on here I don’t know).  Those songs were EVERYWHERE—on Apple commercials, rom-com movies, and every other outlet they could force down your throat.  They had some great singles from those two albums, but the albums as a whole were spotty in terms of greatness.  To me, the only album that belongs on this list is How to Dismantle; that had more good spots than bad and better lyrics.

And here’s another question I have for Rolling Stone’s editors—why does every young band get compared to U2?  “Don’t call them the southern Strokes—call them the American U2” (in speaking of Kings of Leon).  “From the beginning, it was clear that Chris Martin and company had designs on U2-level stardom” (in speaking of Coldplay).  I suppose that speaks to the enduring power of U2’s music, but at some point we need to move away from those comparisons and just say “Kings of Leon used to know how to write good southern punk records but fame got in the way” or “Coldplay can’t seem to find its own sound and step out as the new benchmark for rock music”.  These U2 comparisons just reinforce the fact that there really hasn’t been much original music released in years.

Speaking of Coldplay, they, too, are represented by three records here: Viva la Vida (#85), Parachutes (#73), and A Rush of Blood to the Head (#21).  The only one of these three that should be on the list should be A Rush of Blood.  Viva la Vida is essentially a poor version of How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb sung by Chris Martin.  I know people get sentimental for “Yellow”, so maybe Parachutes could appear on the list, but maybe at the end.  A Rush of Blood, however, is a masterpiece to me.  I have no problem with its position on the list.  I played that record out for all of 2004.  That record might have been the only time I felt that Coldplay had their own sound.

As for Kings of Leon (another band represented with three records), a listener would be able to easily see a difference between their best record, Youth and Young Manhood (#80), and their famous record, Only by the Night (#53).  Youth is sex, drugs, booze and debauchery wrapped into three-minute Thin Lizzy tunes and plays extremely well from beginning to end.  Caleb Followill doesn’t sound like he’s oozing machismo here; his voice is ragged yet powerful in each track.  Night, though, sounds like an over-the-top PG-13-rated rom-com, with its ever-popular “Sex on Fire” and “Use Somebody” filling the airwaves (but the lyrics just not at the same level).  I like Kings of Leon, but they are the poster children for what happens when a band gets too much money and fame too suddenly.  Had they eased into this, I think we would be seeing the standard upon which good rock music is judged.

I will speak more to this on my next entry.  I can’t let it go.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Untitled Kurt Vile Follow-Up

So, I have taken a long break from this blog.  Usually I have a lot to talk about regarding music (mostly rock, but I’ll dabble into other stuff), but lately I have been so focused on my other blog I have neglected this one.  If I remember a long while back I said I would use this blog to review some newer records that aren’t on the other blog list, or at least other records in general.

For instance, right now I’m listening to Kurt Vile’s Childish Prodigy.  I read that Kim Gordon of Sonic Youth had this album as a guilty pleasure a few years ago.  Vile’s recent record, Smoke Ring for My Halo, has received strong critical attention, so I was curious what he was about.  Childish Prodigy is an interest record.  It’s not a bad record, but it’s not a great record.  He sounds like a screwed up Mick Jagger at times; some of his sneers are straight out of Jagger’s handbook to singing (by the way, Mick Jagger can still rock even though he’s almost reached Yoda’s age now).  Vocally he sounds like Mick Jagger, Leonard Cohen, and Tom Petty had a secret love child together.

Musically this record is quite intriguing.  It’s very raw.  His guitar work is very good here.  He’s experimental yet knows when to hone in and refine a concept.  He can be nasty one minute and sweet the next.  He mixes fuzzed out electrics with peaceful acoustics throughout the record.  I have felt awed one minute and violated the next.

Supposedly I should have listened to Ring for My Halo first, but I couldn’t get my hands on a copy.  Nevertheless, if you haven’t heard Kurt Vile’s music before but have seen him credited to a J. Mascis record or something else, check him out.  He’s an interesting artist.