a coherent collection of random statements regarding God, words and tunes

Reasons to Be Cheerful Because of Old People, Part VI

     Man, I never saw this album coming.... Heck, I wasn't even looking for it.... Anyway....

     Conceived in a otherworldly kingdom where Brian Wilson is king, Queen and XTC live together in perfect harmony, and Weird Al is court jester given free rein to venture well beyond the bounds of good taste, Sparks (aka brothers Ron and Russell Mael) have alternately delighted, amused, annoyed, bored, and fascinated the heck out of us for some 35 years and 20 albums now.

     Still, who knew they still had an album like this in them? I sure didn't, let alone in an album so inauspiciously (yet typically) titled something like Hello Young Lovers. And yet, this may very well be the best album they've ever made. In any case, I have to declare this my favorite release so far this year.

     One particularly obvious aspect of this album that's either fascinating or maddening, depending on yr view, is the incessant repetition of a given line throughout a lot of the songs here. For my part, I don't think it's just laziness (the thankfully brief penultimate track, "There's No Such Thing As Aliens," notwithstanding) -- there's definitely a cumulative effect that's achieved here. And it's not like the brothers Mael haven't pulled this trick off before (see "Equator," "Dance Goddammit," et al., or again, ad nauseam depending on yr perspective).

      Contrasted with the often minimalistic (yet often witty) lyrics is the often symphonic sound that rises up throughout this album. It's safe to say that this is one of most musically ambitious albums of Sparks' long and curious career. These guys are playing for no-one but themselves, and they're clearly digging on it. (That said, if someone told me this album was a huge hit in Europe, it wouldn't surprise me in the least.)

      Another thing that will thrill old-time Sparks fans is that, for the first time in years, the guitars are back. This becomes amply clear about two-thirds into the kitchen-sink symphony that IS the unfortunately titled opener, "Dick Around," a seven-minute whine of a corporate has-been which literally goes from angelic harmonies (which deliver the refrain "All I do now is dick around") which to symphonic vocal-keyboard to dance-hall to placid interlude, back to symphonic, and at last into the aforementioned guitar blasts that'd send the Trans-Siberian Orchestra running for cover, and back again to symphonies and harmonies simultaneously to rah-rah cheer to every danged facet you've just read about at once. You've never heard anything quite like it. Actually, kinda you have: it's called "Bohemian Rhapsody." Not that it's the same song by any stretch, but it's the same anything-goes approach from a very similar arsenal (it's no coincidence that Sparks' most popular album, Kimono My House, came out only a year before the arrival of their fellow pop-operatic glam-rockers "Rhapsody"). 

      "Perfume," the single, is a mock-string-laden keyboard-rockabilly (I know, I know....) litany of girls who wear various types of perfume (except for Russ' girl), perfectly dismissed in the spoken bridge:

Susan wears St. Laurent
Janie wears L'Air du Temps
Kirstin wears Davidoff
But you don't wear no perfume....

The olfactory sense is the sense
that most strongly evokes memories of the past
Well -- screw the past
That's why I want to spend my life with you
That's why I want to spend my life with you
That's why I want to spend my life with you
That's why I want to spend my life with you...

      "The Very Next Fight" is a lament to a lack of self-control, wherein the lyrical repetition and overlay of those repetitions ("What you want is what I want," and rather appropriately, "It's always the same") really becomes quite noticeable, one way or the other. Again, either you'll roll with it and get shaken up, or you'll hit the advance button.

      The brothers take a rare venture into political territory (or at least into extreme military-sexual metaphor) with "(Baby Baby) Can I Invade Your Country." A catchy western-style slap-and-tickle rhythm that makes you wanna yell "yeeee-hawww!!!" pushes things along, as it lyrically moves deftly along from a series of banal questions and statements "I'll wait for your answer/ But while I am waiting / I may as well ask ya / What's your favorite song?... / Your favorite Beatle / Has always been Ringo / The least outspoken, apolitical one") to the banality of war and/or casual sex itself ("I need the enjoyment / Of rapid deployment / I need a decision / I'm waitin' for -- Move 'em out! / Can I invade your country? / Oh baby baby, can I invade your country?")

     "Rock Rock Rock".... well, doesn't, and isn't meant to. (Whatever shortcomings they have, the Maels have seldom come up short on the irony front.) Actually, it's downright classical-and I mean big classical-even as Russ pleads to a departing lover, "And since you've put a gun to my head / I will rock, rock, rock / Don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me / I will rock, rock, rock / Like a mother, like a mother, like a mother, like a mother...."

     "Metaphor" is another catchy pop tune, this time around a simple piano riff that slowly grows in scope, with yet more pointed observation:

A metaphor is a glorious thing
A diamond ring, the first day of summer
A metaphor is a breath of fresh air
A turn-on, an aphrodisiac
Chicks dig, dig, D-I-G, dig, dig metaphors

Use them wisely
Use them well
And you'll never know the hell
Of loneliness.

     Back to some more familiar territory for "Waterproof." Melodically it recalls their earlier '80s hit "Tips for Teens," only here the pop is rendered at turns baroque, circus-tent, then at last the flat-out pop that marked "Teens." Only here, the singer who had just promised us to rock, rock, rock and warded off the hell of loneliness is vowing not the let the girl who walked out affect him: "The rain just falls off of me / The tears just fall off of me / 'Cause I'm waterproof, I'm waterproof / Water, water everywhere but not a drop on me." You'll be pogoing by the end of this puppy -- promise.

     Things come down a couple notches before the end. "Here Kitty" is largely an exercise in repetition and musical (and feline) overlay, albeit with some curious scatting to go along with it. Think: Steve Reich dragging Mel Torme along to help Todd Rundgren record "Onomatopoeia." Certainly interesting, if nothing else. "There's No Such Thing as Aliens," on the other hand, is just plain repetitive, largely without the interesting part (although it's hard to ignore the swelling strings and guitar behind this endless refrain).

     The seven-minute closer, "As I Sit Down to Play the Organ at the Notre Dame Cathedral" is as ambitious as it sounds (and every bit as ambitious as this album started out, for that matter), and the lyrical collision of faith and lust within does nothing to offset that. When the, um, "Hallelujah" chorus starts banging its way in, you're not quite sure which way it's supposed to be directed. Just go ahead and experience this one for yourself. You'll either thank me or hate me.  You know, like usual.

Posted by: burninglight at 17:53 | link | comments (3)

IHHHH-hih-hih-hih-hih-hih-hih-hih-hih-hih....

     That's right, ladies and gentlemen: Tom Verlaine is BACK.

    

     Granted, the frenzied Coltranisms that made even Neil Young in his rock-and-roll heyday look like a poser (which, I hasten to add, he's not) and which earmarked the Television pantheon (for more on THAT, see http://www.motime.com/myblog/post/26785/526918) and Tom's solo work of the 1980s are fewer and further between. That said, 1) it's good to finally have this guy back too; and 2) he's put out his best work in nearly 20 years in the process, in the form of not one but two new albums - one instrumental, and one with lyrics and stuff (and when it comes to TV, "lyrics and stuff" is actually a pretty apropos description).

     So let's get to it. Both of these, by the way (as is the other album I'll refer to here), are available via Thrill Jockey Records (http://www.thrilljockey.com/artists/index.html?id=10068).

           

     Around is the new instrumental one, and is touted as Volume II to the last Verlaine album, Warm and Cool (1st released in 1992 -- 14 years, GAD -- but reissued last year by Thrill Jockey with 8 new tracks and thus broached here as well). 

     I won't lie, and really don't need to: They're instrumental albums. You probably already know if you'd be interested in these or not. That said, when I think of other instrumental albums by various guitar heroes of mine that I listen to on a semi-regular basis (Mike Roe and Mark Harmon's Daydream, any number of Phil Keaggy CDs), these are in the same ballpark -- maybe not quite on the level of the other examples, but the difference is negligible enough that I'll almost certainly play each of them somewhere in the same 6-10x/year range once I get done absorbing them first time 'round.

     That said, if you need to satisfy that Coltrane-guitar-frenzy jones you've had for the last 20 years, "Ore," "Lore" and "Saucer Crash" -- three of the longest cuts on Warm and Cool -- will satisfy. If you just want to hear what Tom's been up to lately and like a good guitar-instrumental CD, Around won't disappoint. The unmentioned tracks on both CDs amble along interestingly enough, which is pretty much all I look for from this kind of stuff myself. And it's more difficult than I'm making it sound.

     In short: Can I engage? Yes. Even without the more visceral moments, Tom just being Tom has more than enough quirkiness and inventiveness to get that done. Can I let them play in the background while I engage in something else? Yep, that too. So there you are. And Tom has more than earned his keep prior to this. Your call.

     So on to the aptly named Songs and Other Things. For comparison purposes: Take out the hairiest songs from 1987's Flash Light (i.e., "Cry Mercy Judge," "A Town Called Walker," "Annie's Tellin' Me"), and what's left is pretty close to what we have here. Which is still to say: Way more engaging than The Wonder (the last and most subdued of the worded TV albums, from 1990 -- and which I still listen to every few months nonetheless - I have it on the obverse side of a cassette with The Cure's Seventeen Seconds, so that hopefully gives you a pretty good reference point).

     It takes about a song and a half to really get going. "A Parade in Littleton" is yet another nice funky little instrumental - no knock, but as you may have gathered, I'm ready for the whole package now. "Heavenly Charm" starts off like "Kaleidoscopin'" from The Wonder, only somehow even more subdued than that. That lasts about two minutes, before the guitar blast you've been waiting nearly 20 years for comes crunching through the bridge. "Orbit" also sounds like it've fit nicely on The Wonder, although again it somehow sounds more vigorous here.

     After this, things really kick into gear. "Blue Light" is a swaying, swelling thing that gives way to showers of arpeggios -- in short, it's a Tom thang. Likewise, the chunky chords of "From Her Fingers" evoke the Stones, but from there it gets twisted into an angular romantic pop song - in short, another Tom thang. How I've missed those Tom thangs.

     The eery "Nice Actress" conveniently drops the f-bomb in what passes for the chorus here (I'd say gratuitously, if I only knew what the heck he was talking about). Not a Tom thang, but it works, especially when the guitars finally (and yet again) break out in the song's coda. "A Stroll" is pretty much that - pleasant, if inconsequential.

     "The Earth Is in the Sky" would be the single here. The anchor riff and verses are very reminiscent of the magnificent "Prayer" from Flash Light, both in sound and content; the chorus goes to some interesting minor-chorded place before looping back into that riff again. And there's something about the stilted yet sincere spoken-word bridge that just works:

Valerie, I've been doin' some thinkin' -- some deep.... deep.... thinkin'
And I've come to see that perhaps I've not said much
But when next we meet, I'll untie this tongue of mine....

 

     For some reason, you believe he really talks like this in real life. Tom's always had this medieval-poet-trapped-in the-body-of-a-beat-musician thing going on. :)

     After this, the reins on the song structures loosen considerably. You're not quite sure where he's going on "Lovebird Asylum Seeker" and "Documentary," but it's an interesting enough ride. (And BTW, this is the first time I've heard of drummer Louie Appel, but he does a nice job here and elsewhere.) "Shingaling," as its title probably suggests, is the one completely throwaway song on this album.

     Tom regroups nicely, though, on "All Weirded Out," a stomping climbing and descending thing of coolishness. Nice bass counterpoint at the end of the chorus too. And yet again, he comes through on the coda to remind us why some of us still genuflect at the sound of his six-string.

     "The Day on You," the longest song here, chugs along under the radar before giving way to some nice reveille-style guitar for the final two-plus minutes. And at last, "Peace Piece" guides us out the way we were guided in, via the guitar instrumental. It's a quiet, simple riff. You may have guessed by now that I don't have a lot of problems with this.

     Please come west of Chicago, Tom! Like, about another 800 miles... (I see that since I posted this, a Seattle gig has been added... no Tom, you OVERSHOT.... I mean DENVER, or thereabouts....)

Posted by: burninglight at 15:35 | link | comments

OK, let's do the easier one first....

     The latest installment of Elisha Dorfsmith's Sediment series has hit the, um, streets. Never heard of Dorf? Y'r not alone. You've never heard of anyone else here either, with one possible notable exception -- and that would only be because for some reason beknownst only to yrself you read this blog regularly. 

     Suffice to say, this is indie music at its indie-est, and bully for Dorf that he keeps at it.

     

     Anyway, this would be Sediment 5. There's been a steady progression from the first entry to the fourth. That progression gets broken here -- Sediment 4 remains the high-water mark thus far. But let's face it: You've spent $5 on much, much worse. So likewise, if you want to support VERY independent -- to the point of commercial self-immolation -- music, you could do much, much worse than to spend $5 here. On to the music itself....

     This collection is noticeably moodier than past ones, probably in no little reason due to the fact that it's half instrumentals this time around. Even the lyrical contributions are more subdued than normal, however. No sublime Beatle-esque "Pauper's Walrus" (from Sediment 2) here, although we do in fact have a new entry from Louisiana's own Swimsuit Grandma (aka Mike Indest). And no wonderfully ridiculous Tom-Waits-on-mescaline "A Devil Named Agnes" (from Sediment 4) here either, although Philip A. Stranger is once again in the house with a new instrumental. (As already gathered, there's several return guests here, and several new ones as well.)

     Just a few other reasons you want take a chance on this: 

     1) Well, let's start off by sucking up to fellow mo'timers here: Tim Byrnes (of punk rock blues) is once again featured on two Sediment tracks here, this time by "Nothing" and "We've Lost the Afghan Whigs." They're both melancholy tunes that aren't near the top of my personal Top timtunes list (and why o why does dorf keep eschewing tim's 1900 songs for his Debut CD ones?), but they're both good ones. Heck, they're tim. I'm partial, but I'm right. (BTW, you can now [FINALLY] sample lots of other of timtunes online at http://www.lulu.com/timbyrnes)

     2) The two songs by Swimsuit Grandma compadre Eddie P. here, "Verdie's Song" and "Gotta See About a Girl," are both worth special mention, as they've both got this sweet Southern pop thing going on.

     3) I rather like the introductory tune here, "Far Away" by Salem (Longsilence) (whoever this is -- even I don't know). 

     4) Ted's Goodwin's "The Latest Thing" sounds like a bootleg tape-recording of a secret meeting between T-Bone Burnett and The Cramps. Need I say more?

     Heck, just go to http://www.dorfsmith.com/Radiant%20Store/Radiant%20Store.html and order a whole bunch of stuff. Dorf's a pretty prolific artist in his own right, cranking out Resident-like tuneage like sausage. And heck, chances are he'll cut you a deal anyway if you order in bulk. But you didn't hear that from me.

Posted by: burninglight at 17:43 | link | comments (6)

Things to Keep You Afloat While Y'r Floundering

     I'll get back to new stuff next week, probably (and maybe Amazon'll even have its own image I can copy so you can see the book cover from the last entry by then) -- one review for sure (of another long-overdue artist who's graced us with not one but two brand-spankin'-new albums) and possibly one more (if it's good enough, but it's got a couple tim songs so that might be enough to push it over the top regardless )

     For now, though: One old friend I badly needed to replace, one old friend I'm discovering in a new place, and one new friend altogether that I'm thoroughly enjoying without the benefit of its original Zeitgeist:

     Nirvana -- In Utero -- This still sounds like the definitive album of the '90s -- not specifically the best, as well-documented in entries past, but in terms of "defining its time." And it does remain one of the best of the decade. Even uglier than it is angry (and it's BLOODY angry), and bloodier brilliant all the way through. You can practically hear the rifle trigger being cocked, loaded and clicked. (Not that that's a good thing, but if that doesn't convey the intensity here I don't know what does.)
     Without going into another one of my dissertations: The lyrics of "Serve the Servants" seem even more pointed now than they did back then; the "GO AWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!" of "Scentless Apprentice" still simultaneously shoots my adrenalin through the roof and scares the crap out of me; I love the way the anthemic "Smells Like Teen Spirit" gets turned inside-out into the fame-intolerant "Rape Me"; "Pennyroyal Tea" remains a brilliant rant against one's own indifference and frailty; and "All Apologies" is one of those perfect songs you only hear once from any given band (if you -- and they -- are lucky), wherein all in all is all they are. And then they were done.

     Graham Parker -- Struck by Lightning -- Only from a bit earlier a time than In Utero (1991, in this case), but I'd never heard it before and I officially declare myself a dope for that. But I'm making up for it now. As Graham disappeared into obscurity after Mona Lisa's Sister (and the mostly dreadful Human Soul) -- and into the Catskills (heck, I probably drove past his house on the way to retreat each year -- there I go again... ) -- the guy clearly rediscovered himself. 
     This deceptively pastoral album is growing on me by leaps and bounds -- it's so seemingly mellow that when stuff starts popping it's dang near revelatory. The opener, "She Wants So Many Things," has gone from catchy refrain to near-Dylanesque in its scope; "Strong Wind" hearkens back to the old heart ballads of Heat Treatment; "The Kid with the Butterfly Net" is a heartbreakingly happy ode to childhood, with an eye towards the jadedness of adulthood that awaits; "The Sun Is Gonna Shine Again" is a great closer, and you want to believe it as much the singer wants to.

     Modest Mouse -- Good News for People Who Love Bad News -- How the heck did I miss this? Well, one, 'cause I don't listen to commercial radio. In fact -- I kid you not -- the first time I heard "Float On" was in the rental car I had during my unexpected and undesired trip back to Jersey in February. I thought it was the new Franz Ferdinand single and didn't give it a second thought. 
     But a month or so ago, I borrowed it off my oldest daughter (who'd bought it for her sister the previous Christmas, but who didn't like it past "Float On" -- which, I should remind you, I still thought was a Franz Ferdinand song at this point). I can definitely say this is the best "new" (for me, anyway) album I've heard so far this year. Musically all over the map, but the fact that two main stops appear to be Brian Wilson and Tom Waits somehow holds it together. Vigorously agnostic, but honestly so and with a huge sense of humor. (The "YOU missed! YOU missed!" falsetto yelping behind the charming inquisition "You wasted life -- why wouldn't you waste death?" on "Ocean Breathes Salty" is just one priceless example that gets in yr head and won't leave.)
     And maybe it's just the way I experienced it personally, but I can't imagine really "getting" the danged-happy-despite-itself (and is that Dexy's Midnight Runners I hear partying in the background?) "Float On" without first hearing its winsome Beach Boys-esque prelude, "The World at Large." "Bury Me With It" sounds like the Red Hot Chili Peppers having a nervous breakdown (and few things would give me greater pleasure....). On the other end of the spectrum, "Blame It on the Tetons" is a gorgeously quiet song that practically sounds like Steve Forbert in places, and while I can't figure out who the goofily poignant "The Good Times Are Killing Me" is directed at (the aforementioned Mr. Wilson, who it nails perfectly here? The band themselves?), it sure sounds like a perfect "reaping what you sow" culmination of everything that's passed over the last hour.

     Heck, I feel better just writing about this stuff. More good stuff next week.

Posted by: burninglight at 16:21 | link | comments

Shameless Plug #2

(I'm gathering from feedback elsewhere that this picture may not be showing up -- I see it fine here, but maybe 'cause I'm logged in -- in which case, go here: http://store.grouppublishing.com/OA_HTML/ibeCCtpItmDspRte.jsp?section=10701&item=44678.)

OK, so it looks a lot like Shameless Plug #1. Just a different focus. And trust me, having just approved Shameless Plugs #3 & 4 Friday (and expect to do #5 today and #6 in a couple weeks), those'll be different....

Anyway, fruition accomplished. Enjoy, if y'r bent this way....

 

On the down side, just found out that the men's retreat I'd founded 10 years ago (and which I'd lamented missing in my men's ministry post just below) didn't happen. I am seriously bumming. The small-group ministry at our old church (which had more people coming than on a Sunday) and now the retreat... both toast within a year of my departure. I know things have their season, and I could interpret all this as a kind of perverse tribute, but if I may say so, this kinda sucks.

Posted by: burninglight at 13:42 | link | comments