Sunday, March 31, 2013

Stars: The North

As we crawl slowly out of this winter of 2013, I find myself thinking of this very good Stars album, which came out toward the beginning of it and seems to capture its character. On the title track, Torquil Campbell sings, "It's so cold in this country... every road home is long." That seems to sum up the album pretty well: although it's fairly lushly instrumented and accessibly hooky, the sound is very minor and subdued, with the wall of sound working to overtake the moody, theatrical vocals. The backdrop is pale but deep. The singers are hushed and aching, lonely and isolated and singing about it.

It's an interesting item after the band's previous album, The Five Ghosts, which I reviewed early enough on that I can't bear to look back on what I said. There were a number of powerful, mold-breaking moments on that album, and a number of wide shots that didn't land with me. The North has a higher floor and lower ceiling: they don't go out of their range as much, and as a result they wind up with an album that is a more consistent and overall enjoyable listen, but one with a less thrilling upside. I can listen to it the whole way through, and only a few tracks will stand out as being high points, and even fewer will stand out as being lesser ones.

It's made mostly out of chilling, frozen pop, which like much of Stars' music skirts an 80s-like line between dance and rock. "Backlines" transmutes from a guitar riff to a synthy chorus and builds string-laden denouement. The elements never clash because they are all with a single purpose. Their command over tone on this album is impressive. The liquid "Lights Changing Colour" and mystic duet "Loose Ends Will Make Knots" are among the finest, most Starsy in atmosphere. "Progress" improves on some of the stilted indie-beat of The Five Ghosts, revealing one of many moments where you really see the heart of the album. "Through The Mines" feels like a reminder that as good and popular as Of Monsters and Men is, Stars got there first and are capable of doing it as well as ever. Amy Millan's voice is a beautiful coo. As more and more top acts feature female vocalists, none has quite the bittersweet earnestness of hers.

Nestled between these moody atmospherics are some nimble indie pop tunes that are bright and upbeat but don't quite break the tone of the album, helped by Campbell's stately delivery. "Hold On When You Get Love And Let Go When Give It" benefits from this restraint, with the music swelling beneath him and gradually overtaking him. "A Song Is A Weapon" is my favourite individual moment on the album, balancing the precious tone with a catchy beat and good lyrics.

The album cinches up its mastery of tone, its command of "swoony indie rock balladry" with the closing tracks, the staggering "The 400" with its choked up refrain of "It has to go right this time", and the tactful dubstep-lite of "Walls" with its call-and-answer vocals. Ultimately, the album leaves more suggested than outright stated, which is where it has the edge over its predecessor.

Stars are a good band, but sometimes hit and miss with their album packages. Here it all seems to come together. The songs stand out from each other but also stand together into a 43-minute piece that plays very well in a single sitting. I think none of the songs on it will be as well-regarded, years down the line, as "Your Ex-Lover Is Dead" or "Reunion" or, for me personally, "Wasted Daylight." But this is the set they've probably been hoping they would put together for many years. Each song isn't a knockout, but as it goes on all the pieces go into place and the individual moments assert themselves for what they are. Pick it up if you were thinking about it, and you'll be glad you did.

Buy this album now: iTunes (Canada) //iTunes (USA) // Amazon.ca // Amazon.com




Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Sonic Sandwich: You Only Stroke Once



One thing that vexes me, that I guess you could say compels me to keep trying to write about music, and in particular argue with people who can't hear me, is The Strokes. I don't know why. All in all not a lot of critics have much negative to say about them. But at the same time, every new release of theirs seems to be met with a halfhearted smile, a shrug, and a saying "Is This It was really good, wasn't it?" I just don't think they get their due.

Their debut is a really good album, as evidenced by the fact that I'm talking about it right now, same as any of those critics. But it's in the past, and they have become a band that is constantly fiddling with their sound, adding and subtracting various elements with varying degrees of success but often coming out on top. I wish I could write a review of their new album, Comedown Machine, in a way that strayed away from this topic, but as the years roll by The Strokes are doomed to stay in the shadow of their debut. It's not enough to stay good after a strong first impression, people expect you to keep getting better somehow. Rock and roll is about serious works of art, not reliable collections of good (and diverse!) tunes.



And make no mistake, the tunes are there: every Strokes album has its share of rock solid tracks that I will love to hear until I inevitably go deaf. Angles, their reluctantly-praised 2011 effort, contains no fewer than four excellent tracks that could not have appeared on Is This It. If I was going to recommend only one album of theirs, I might even skip right to Room on Fire, the same way I'm starting to wonder if I maybe like the Arctic Monkeys' second album better than their first. When The Strokes finally put out at Greatest Hits disc, I'm sure everyone will act like they knew all along, and that the other albums were just weighed down by dross, but I find them thoroughly listenable in all the shadowy corners too.

I haven't given Comedown Machine the level of attention I need before I can really make a review, but I find it so far to be a moody, distant, but impressively constructed record, the underside of the gleaming dance-rock of Angles. It's different than the others, just like the others are different for each other, and I think it's time to step back and take notice that this is not the band that a lot of people think they are or want them to be. They're something much more rare: a changing animal, that spends one album in one skin before subtly shedding it to reveal the next. This was once standard operating procedure for top rock acts, and in retrospect they get praised for it, but there are tons of examples from back then, too, of critics and pundits being unable to appreciate a good thing while it was happening. And this retrograde way of thinking isn't called out, because hey, it's 2013 and The Strokes haven't been "The Big Thing" in about ten years. And fair enough. I just always think it's best to look at music as something you listen to., and this set holds up to that.

I've written extensively on the burden of expectations, and it's something none of us will ever be free from. My official stance now is to treat all these albums, as much as I can, as a debut album. Meet the new Strokes.

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Cover: Ronnie Hawkins & The Hawks, "Hey Bo Diddley"



Back when The Band was still The Hawks, they backed Ronnie Hawkins on this cover of Bo Diddley's original, which takes elements from both "Bo Diddley" (which is based on the "Hush Little Baby" lullaby) and "Hey! Bo Diddley" (which is based on Old Macdonald.) The thing that bites me is that growing up, I only knew this version from the oldies radio station, and assumed it was Bo's original. So until tonight I was mad trying to find the version with this exact phrasing.

I came to think of it because I was listening to "Hare Krishna" by Husker Du, and I thought "Hey, they're doing a goof on 'I Want Candy!' Wait, 'I Want Candy' is just a Bo Diddley beat! Oh yeah, like a million songs have that beat in them!" It's a great, timeless rhythm that keeps getting used in rock music (though you don't hear it much anymore) because it's solid and propulsive but also sinewy and suggestive. "Bah-bah-bah---a-bah-bah." Check out this quote from Wikipedia about its prevalence:

“Other songs employing the Bo Diddley beat include “(Marie’s the Name) His Latest Flame” (1961) by Elvis Presley, “I Want Candy” by The Strangeloves, “1969” (1969) by The Stooges, “Panic in Detroit” (1973) by David Bowie, “Mr. Brownstone” (1987) by Guns N’ Roses, “Hari Krsna” (lyrics are even sung to the tune of ‘Hey Bo Diddley’) by Hüsker Dü from their album Zen Arcade, “Faith (1987) by George Michael, “Desire” (1988) by U2, “Boa-Diddley” (1990) by Phillip Boa and the Voodooclub, “Movin’ on Up” (1991) by Primal Scream, “Woodcutter’s Son” (1995) by Paul Weller, and “Screwdriver” (1999) by The White Stripes.[50] Other examples include “Magic Bus” by The Who, “Rudie Can’t Fail” by The Clash, “Get Me to the World on Time” by The Electric Prunes, and “Party at the Leper Colony” by “Weird Al” Yankovic.[51] Some of the more subtle uses of the Biddley beat include “Hateful” (1979) by The Clash and “How Soon Is Now?” (1985) by The Smiths.”

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Sonic Sandwich: People, Hell, Angels, Scary Monsters & Supercreeps



So, where ya been, Scotto?

I've been taking a little hiatus for the last month or so. Unlike the one I took last summer, there's no crisis or breakdown behind this one, I'm not frustrated or bored or angry at music or my ability to write about it. I spent January and February devoting a bit more time to a promise I made myself regarding other projects. But that didn't stop awesome music from coming out or being available in the back catalog. So part of what I was doing, between pushing fictional characters around in Word documents, is trying to come up with a way I could do this site regularly and not utterly drain myself every time I open up a New Post tab. Although I'm still not sure how it's gonna turn out, I'm gonna workshop some kind of possible new format that involves me just freestyling about stuff I've been listening to, what's out now or what old music I finally got around to. So basically... this site, still.

Just yesterday saw the release of the new David Bowie album, The Next Day, which you absolutely should be buying right now, if you haven't already. Back in January we we got a glimpse into this thing with the advance single, "Where Are We Now?" which was gorgeous and exceptional and both new and classic at once -- the rest of the album delivers on that promise. I think the great thing about Bowie releasing an album in 2013 is that we are now in a time when new work by old artists is very highly valued. Bowie was a working artist all through the 90's and up to the early 2000s and his new releases were, despite good marks from critics, received lukewarmly. Allmusic aptly describes him as being "taken for granted" during this period, as audiences maybe grew weary trying to suss out what his current "thing" at any time was. As someone who made his bones as an innovator, seeming to fall behind the pack was death, even as he was making good music ("I'm Afraid of Americans" rocks.) I remember when I was in high school and his last new albums were coming out, either Heathen or Reality, and the public response was basically "Oh, a new Bowie album? It's not Ziggy Stardust, it's not Heroes, it's not Let's Dance... so whatever." Then again I was 15 and not particularly paying attention so maybe I don't know for sure.

But in 2013, after a decade of absence, David's audience can be less self-conscious about being eager to receive him and appreciate what he does. At this point his "thing" can basically just be "Being David Bowie," whatever that may mean. I'll leave to Bowie scholars to pinpoint periods of reference: "This from Heroes, that from Station to Station, a bit of Hunky Dory and then Scary Monsters..." I don't really think like that, but some do and that's cool. But it sounds like Bowie and even better, it sounds vital. There's an audience for it, I daresay a huge one. There's an entire generation of folks like me who have now grown up voraciously absorbing music that was recorded before we were born. If you didn't buy any of those 90s Bowie albums, pick this one up anyway.

Also released last week was the third and, I think final, "new" Jimi Hendrix album. For those curious, as I was, it turns out that before he died he was working on a huge, huge project, and recorded maybe three LPs worth or more of material with his Band of Gypsys, but then it was caught up in legal disputes after his death, and released in inferior formats over the years. The previous two released were First Rays of the New Rising Sun and Valleys of Neptune. This one, People Hell & Angels, feels more gritty and human, than say, if your idea of Hendrix is "Purple Haze" or "Voodoo Chile." There are horns and backup vocals and things that didn't seem synonymous with Hendrix's traditional canon. Most importantly though, these are full-bodied, lush recordings, not rough sketches, demos or outtakes left off earlier albums due to inferior quality. These sound like they were either ready for release in 1970, or not far off and touched up very well. Considering that for 40 years his library has consisted of three albums, I think people should be very into this "new" Hendrix, I believe the last there will ever be. Considering I just recently promoted the Gary Clark Jr. album by saying "If you can't have new Hendrix you can at least have this," I would feel silly not putting my stamp of approval on this one.

Saturday, March 2, 2013

Cover: Philosopher Kings, "Cry"



I think the Philosopher Kings' take on Godley & Creme's tune is one of those cases where the cover severely outdoes the original. The first version is a good song, haunting and hurtful in its way, but Jarvis Church's 90s band pumps it up into a danceable bit of soulful pain. They wring out hooks that are only slightly in the original and help it reach its full potential.