End of a Band, End of an Era

After 30-plus years of writing and performing, R.E.M. (or its remaining members) posted yesterday that they were calling it a day.  Most people probably feel they should have called it years ago when Bill Berry, their original drummer and a strong contributor to the songwriting, retired to his farm in Georgia after having just had an aneurysm a couple of years before.  The band never really seemed to be the same after he left.  Sure, they had flashes of their rich history with songs like “The Great Beyond” and “Imitation of Life”, but I have to believe that at that point the remaining members—Michael Stipe, Peter Buck, and Mike Mills—were so busy with other projects and the loss of Berry as a regular member that maybe they knew like the rest of us that the fire was dwindling.  Even if Accelerate and Collapse into Now seemed to hint at a rebirth, the original four were still the best band.

I more or less have always liked R.E.M., so instead of mourning them, I’m going to praise them and thank them for writing music that has had a long-lasting effect on me.  Since hearing “It’s the End of the World as We Know It” on pop rock radio when I was eight or nine, I have at the least followed their material if not made an effort to buy their records.  I am glad I got to see them on the Monster Tour back in 1995, their first since they toured on Green in 1989.  Their music is as much a part of how I play guitar as that of the Beatles or the Stones.  Peter Buck’s chiming guitar is a part of my musical fabric.

Speaking of Monster, that album just might be my favorite of theirs.  Insane thought, perhaps, but when I think about the adolescent energy that went into that record, moving away from the thoughtful and mature Out of Time and Automatic for the People, I just get excited about the music.  “Crush with Eyeliner”, “I Don’t Sleep, I Dream”, “Strange Currencies”…these, along with many of the others on that album, were songs that I could crank up with them and just enjoy.  Not that I didn’t enjoy other songs the same way—“The One I Love” and “Driver 8” were similar—but Monster was that reintroduction that became an event.

R.E.M. released 15 studio albums, 10 compilations, and 3 EPs.  They also released 56 videos, most of which appeared on MTV when MTV used to be about music and used to show videos.  Their videos were events…the “Losing My Religion” video and song were played so frequently back then that I had to take a break from listening to them for fear of burnout.  They released some great material that affected a lot of people.  We should be praising them.  They had a great career as a band.

My Current Band Obsession

The Drive-By Truckers (further as “DBT”) are on my Metacritic list twice for Decoration Day and The Dirty South.  I really first heard them when I downloaded “Used to Be a Cop” as part of a free sample from Spin magazine back in March.  It’s a relatively long track (just over 7 minutes long), but it had a good groove and an interesting storyline.  Intrigued, I found two of their albums at my local library, Go-Go Boots and Brighter Than Creation’s Dark, and gave each a listen.  I also happened to hear “This F**king Job” on Outlaw Country around then, and my obsession kicked in.

What DBT has that other country/rock/country rock outfits don’t is their ambitious songwriting.  They have never feared from writing conceptual albums.  They have never feared from paying tribute.  Patterson Hood and Mike Cooley primarily write the songs with assists from a rotating cast of members, including Rob Malone, Jason Isbell, and Shonna Tucker.  They typically feature a three-guitar attack, and their sound is rock driven.  Their sound borrows a lot from bands like Lynyrd Skynyrd and the Allman Brothers Band, both rock powerhouse bands known for their country/blues/rock sound and powerful guitar attack.  I wouldn’t characterize the guitar playing of DBT as good as the aforementioned bands, but they’re certainly not bad by any means.

I mentioned DBT does not shy away from concept albums.  No truer is this than on the album Southern Rock Opera, which I’m listening to as I write this.  Southern Rock Opera is part tribute to Lynyrd Skynyrd, part historical reference, and all opus.  Some of it is fictional, but over the two acts the band tells the history of life in the South through the eyes of a fictional band.  Southern Rock Opera is an amazing record so far…probably my favorite of theirs.  You can tell through listening to it that Hood, Cooley and Malone put a lot of heart into this record.

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.

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.

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.

Feeling Old Maybe?

Recently I stumbled upon an article that discussed a website/blog where the owner is trying to compile all of the video lists for every 120 Minutes show that aired on MTV (1986-2003).  Here’s the website:  http://tylerc.com/the-120-minutes-archive/.  Back in the day (for me, that means around 1991 forward) when I could catch the show I would try.  Back then MTV actually meant videos and interviews with artists/bands, but those days went out the door the day Pedro showed up on The Real World 3.  I used to like 120 Minutes and Headbangers’ Ball (less so Headbangers, though Beavis and Butthead did get me to watch a few more episodes) but didn’t get to catch either show as much as I should have.  Who knows where my musical tastes would have veered had I watched them more consistently.

Anyway, I’ve been “thumbing” through the website and have been fascinated by a few things.  One, there are a number of the bands represented on here that I still like immensely that I liked then:  R.E.M., Sonic Youth, Pearl Jam, to name a few.  I know Sonic Youth came out years before, but I remember seeing the video for “Bull in the Heather” on here.  Two, there are a TON of bands that I didn’t appreciate then that I do now:  Blur, the Cure, the Smiths, and Soul Coughing to name a mere few.  In fact, I hated the Smiths for a long, long time until a quirky romcom came out a few years ago ((500) Days of Summer) that reintroduced them to me.  Three, there are quite a few bands that were on back in 1991 that are still around now and are still relatively popular:  Social Distortion, R.E.M., Sonic Youth, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers, to name a few.  One could argue Social Distortion is more popular now in some ways than they were then.  Four, Trent Reznor let Pretty Hate Machine’s popularity ride out for years until he released Broken.  I’m blown away by this, because it felt like Pretty Hate Machine came out many, many years ago (in fact, it was originally released in 1989).

When I read this article and then found the website, I felt like this was a treasure trove.  At the click of a button I could locate songs and artists I hadn’t listened to in years nor could remember their names until now.  The nice thing about the site, too, is the links to searches for the videos (most of the songs have links).

Radiohead

I will be the first to admit that I don’t know nearly enough about Radiohead.  I have heard all of their albums except for their recent one, The King of Limbs, which isn’t even available on CD yet (but is digitally).  But I’m lacking when it comes to knowing their records, meaning knowing the names of the songs, understanding their background, etc.  At the pace I’m going with my album reviews blog, I will get to know.  I have been aware of Radiohead since “Creep” was a single all those years ago.  I can’t remember the first time I heard the song, but I’m pretty sure I liked it right away; I was an awkward teen that embraced the grunge message at the time and loved the hard churning guitars and loud vocals.  Radiohead embodied that with “Creep”.

But they changed the game with The Bends, which is why I am writing in the first place.  In terms of overall effectiveness/appeal/complexity, The Bends is probably in the middle of the pack of their records.  So why is The Bends my favorite record?  For me it’s the perfect branch between grungy Pablo Honey and the modernity that started with their best overall record, OK Computer.  The Bends contains a piece of every musical thought they have embraced in their long careers in some form.

Let’s start with “Bones”.  “Bones” embraces the arena grunge sound that started with “Creep” and became even more apparent with the numerous other Britpop bands that appeared just after “Creep” (Blur, Oasis, Primal Scream, etc.).  I love that it has this sound, that it bridges that part of them to the present and future.  “Bones” is probably the closest Radiohead got to the sound they had on Pablo Honey.  “Planet Telex”, on the other hand, with its use of guitar effects on pianos and guitars and other instruments, sounds more like a link to the modern Radiohead.

There are three songs from The Bends that really form my opinion about this album:  “High and Dry”, “Fake Plastic Trees”, and “My Iron Lung”.  First, about “My Iron Lung”, this song would be part of the branch to the modern Radiohead from OK Computer and later albums.  The chiming electric guitar figure played by Ed O’Brien, augmented by the sweeping to over-the-top distorted lead of Jonny Greenwood.  No, there’s no hint of electronic effects to this song, but the effects they used in the song alone would be featured more and more on OK Computer.

“High and Dry” and “Fake Plastic Trees” are the softer side of Radiohead and Thom Yorke at his most confessional.  These two songs alone launched the career of Coldplay, because they fit just as well in their catalog as they would in Radiohead’s.  My obsession with the sound of an acoustic guitar on record grew immensely when I heard these songs.  I always felt some electricity from the way Greenwood and O’Brien sounded playing and wanted to emulate it in my own playing.  I knew when I first heard these songs years and years ago that Radiohead was not the same band that had just released Pablo Honey a few years before.  They were older, more mature, and had embraced their want to create something with more depth.

“Fake Plastic Trees”?  It’s easily my favorite song of theirs of all their songs.  Why?  I don’t know, there must be some magical pull for me to it.  I think part of it is the emotional intensity of Yorke’s vocals.  I love the guitar work (all of it).  I like that he uses the words “fake plastic trees” to create a song.  There’s just a sincerity there that grabs my attention.