Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Tom Waits - Bad As Me

Another big release from one of my favorite artists. Tom Waits' first new album in seven years. I always expect big things. But what I got even exceeded my expectations.

T
he first thing you notice from the onset is the big-out-frontedness of it all. This is in comparison to his most recent works. The melodramatic-eerily romantic Alice; the bleak cabaret of Blood Money and low howl of Real Gone. All were presented pretty much under the vest. Bad As Me is bigger than that. Rolling Stone just shouted out Swordfishtrombones here, and while I don't want to paint that avant garde of a picture, it certainly has that brightness. For example, the opener "Chicago" is a fantastic rewind to the "Midtown" instrumental off Rain Dogs. Lots of horns and harmonicas and guitars and not the calliope drones that has been a key instrument in the last decade.

Plus, his vocals are way up and at 'em. The title track is a perfect example of that. His gruff growl is ever present as always, but it's constantly enunciated and clear here.

But the focus for any Tom Waits' review will always be directed toward the pen. As one of the most prolific songwriter in American history (not an exaggeration), Tom - and increasingly, his wife, Kathleen - have provided a tremendous amount of lyrical shelter for the emotionally homeless. They keep it clever several times throughout the collection including a new confusion epic, "Talking At The Same Time" where he observes, "We bailed out all the millionaires / They’ve got the fruit, we’ve got the rind". And a completely experimental march of "Hell Broke Luce" scissors to bits everything furthering the war machine, asking "How many ways can you polish up a turd?"

But there are also times that the duo keeps it simple, which also works. The almost-straight rockabilly "Get Lost" is about little more than getting in the car and driving. And the jazzy "Kiss Me" is deeply romantic in its simplicity of a couple whose newness is behind them.

Another great collection which will no doubt be in my best of the year. (5 of 5 stars)





Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Radio Moscow - The Great Escape of Leslie Magnafuzz

When the word "Magnafuzz" is in your album title, you're pretty much giving away the ending right away. Radio Moscow made waves with their Dan Auerbach-produced debut. No Dan in sight here, and also nothing in sight even remotely resembling control. In a good way...

The frenetic hippie-biker jams evoke some horribly scary speed-acid freak out scene that would only be found in the darket alley Austin, Texas bar. (Even though they're from Iowa).

"Creepin'" is their closest effort to a slow jam. A blues harp being amoung the soloist instruments here, it kicks back with a sexy blues groove. I almost called "Turtle Back Rider" a more reined-in commercial effort, but even a minute after the Black Keys-ian opening riff, everything gets sped back up again, And they throw in the whole kitchen sink, washtub and lazy susan.

It's this lack of abandon which is going to hinder Radio Moscow from acheiving any mainstream success. It's certainly not directionless, but it's also crazy and too colorful. But judging from the jambandy "Densaflorativa", you might be able to find them enjoying hippie summer fest success. And there enough of those jams to idicate that that is what the band has in mind. Being The Who in a sea of San Francisco-hair-flower-children.

The highlight of the collection is "Misleading Me". An acoustic-based riff which is no less whacked out than the rest of the record, but does imploy more blues vocals than any other tune here. (3 of 5 stars)

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Ryan Adams - Ashes & Fire

A friend of mine has been posting a plethora of Ryan Adams videos in the past weeks. I've been watching them amiably and even liked some of the offerings. I am certainly well aware of Adams' reputation much more than I've ever listened to him. And with a career as prolific as his, it's hard to get started. But nonetheless, with a new album out, I thought now would be a good time as any to update my singer-songwriter iPod repertoire.

Having said that. This album is SO fucking boring! I mean, so crazy dull that I don't exactly how to shit on it. This is simply not the same Ryan Adams that I have gotten in brief chunks in the past.

First of all, every song follows the same acoustic guitar verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-chorus-chorus form. Even if I had some personal connection to the lyric: "kindness don't ask for much but an open mind" (I don't); I'd still wonder to myself why I needed to hear it four times with the same inflection with the same musical accompaniment. The songs don't build from anywhere to anything. They start, the etch-a-sketch pin follows the etch-a-sketch line, and then the song ends. A lot of dead space on that board.

There's also no value in these lyrics. I mean, he has a song using one of the biggest clichés ever with "Chains Of Love". He's also certainly concerned about growing old and not being the kid he once was. But his only ability to verbalize this comes in:
That song, "Save Me", is the one that offended me the most. His expressionless voice sings that he's in "so much pain" but never describes anything in the rest of the song that explains that. I have a 30 second audio clip of Aimee Mann farting and that, on a scale of artistic expression, is still halfway between this song and "Brahm's Lullaby" (1 of 5 stars)

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

We Were Promised Jetpacks. - In The Pit Of The Stomach


Not a lot to say about this one. If you heard WWPJ debut album, you heard a plucky Scottish band playing post-punk rock with thick Scottish accents. Basically the same thing here. This album is decidedly heavier than the last. Darrin Lackie, especially, who has seem to have taken a page from Matt Helders of the Arctic Monkeys. Faster, heavier.

Quite unlike the Monkeys, though- WWPJ take themselves über-seriously. And while Alex Turner would play with a clean guitar tone to keep it bouncy, and to give space for his mile-a-minute lyrics; WWPJ crack the guitars to buzzsaw levels. It makes the end result sound less post-punk and more post-grunge. Like Bush, but faster.

The odd part is the sameness of most every song. I actually looked at my computer player at one point to see if a song was skipping. Sixteenth notes played constantly, rarely changing chords whatsoever. And Adam Thompson's vocals do not evoke any counter melody either. Monotoned tunes with monotoned vocals undermixed behind the rev of grunge guitars. Not bad, just uninspiring. The closer, "Pear Tree", is a standout amongst the others. If only because shows somewhat uniqueness against the remainder of the album. (2.5 of 5 stars)