3 Minutes, 49 Seconds

Rock Solid: They Might Be Giants

2012-01-03T03:49:00.000-06:00

"If you only own one album by They Might Be Giants it's gotta be [insert masterpiece here]."

Welcome to Rock Solid, where we fill in the blank. Our goal is to pseudo-scientifically determine the best, the beloved, the most classic album in an artist's catalog.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources. The All Music Guide provides the professional critical point-of-view and Amazon.com offers the fan perspective (because most people who choose to review albums on Amazon are adoring fans of the artist in question). The album with the highest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the best.

An artist's entire body of work is eligible, with one exception: No compilations (i.e. greatest hits). In each case, I'll also share my personal favorite album by the artist in question, as if you care.

* * *

I suppose it's fitting. They Might Be Giants' music often baffles even the most esoterically-minded listeners, so it shouldn't be any surprise that the process of discovering their best and worst albums has been a convoluted one. Their Rock Bottom selection, The Spine, gave me consternation because, though it was lowest-ranked, no one really had anything bad to say about it. Their best album, similarly, turns out to be something I'd have never expected.

My best guess, pre-research, would have 1990's Flood. This is where and when TMBG made their biggest, most lasting, cultural impact (see Instanbul (Not Constantinople), Birdhouse in Your Soul, and Particle Man for further details). But critics and fans didn't agree with me, or each other. Rather than give a confusing narrative, I'll do this bullet-style for the 5 albums that tied one another for the top spot.

Their 1986 debut, They Might Be Giants, got 4.5 stars from the All Music Guide and 4.5 from Amazon.com reviewers.
1988's Lincoln got the same.
2002's No! got the same.
2008's Here Come the 123s got 4 stars from AMG and 5 stars from Amazon.com reviewers.
2008's Here Comes Science got the same.

What to make of this? Well, 3 of the 5 are children's albums, which skews the results somewhat, especially in the Amazon reviews (basically, you've got kids and parents writing these reviews, not necessarily fans of the band as a pop entity). That leaves us with the first two records. Since they're tied, we look next at the percentage of 5 star reviews on Amazon. In a surprise upset, the group's debut wins it, with 82% to Lincoln's 76%.

(If you're wondering where Flood ended up, it's in 6th place, with a combined 8.5 stars (4 from AMG, 4.5 from Amazon). More on this later.)

Anyway, They Might Be Giants may be the unworthiest Rock Solid I've seen yet. In other cases I may not have agreed with the selection, but I could see the argument. This one, not so much.

Even so, let's give it a fighter's chance.

AMG's Stephen Thomas Erlewine is brief and superficial in his summation of the album. The best he can muster is a back-handed compliment: "While there are a lot of geeky jokes and barely developed ideas scattered throughout the album, the sheer kaleidoscopic array of styles is intoxicating."

As for the Amazon.com reviewers, Ryan Hennessy seems to be speaking directly to my skepticism about the album: "So for all of its creativity, wacky but sometimes poignant lyrics and off the wall fun level this is a great album, often overlooked even by TMBG fans." Antiphilosopher adds that the album is, "Bouncy, catchy, upbeat psychosis in musical form!" The Intengenius asserts that They Might Be Giants is "probably the most bizarre album they ever released, [it] literally stomps all over the place, flitting from genre to genre almost flawlessly." And Erin asks, hopefully rhetorically or the answer is going to be a long one, "Who doesn't like a band that consists of two dorks making weird music?"

But several reviewers undermine their 5 star reviews with qualifiers. Mighty Bjorn says, "If you're new to the band, Flood is a better jumping on point because it's not quite as strange." Okay, he's not saying Flood is better, though. However, witness this anonymous review: "[They Might Be Giants] is also a good place to start listening to John and John, surpassed only by Flood, the most friendly of all TMBG efforts." Kari the Digimon Princess puts it more bluntly: "Now I do like They Might Be Giants but this is crude compared to Flood or Lincoln."

Relistening to They Might Be Giants, I am struck by the audacity of it. It's no surprise that the band were hits with college radio first, because music didn't sound like this in 1986. It's the aural equivalent of watching a performance art piece by created by a schizophrenic. The band's identity at this point was based on having no real identity. They were (and are, though to a lesser degree) absurdists. But that didn't necessarily make for great songs. Sure, there are standouts, such as She's An Angel, Put Your Hand Inside the Puppet Head, She Was a Hotel Detective, and Don't Let's Start, but a lot of the album goes over the novelty line (Toddler Hiway, anyone?). To me, it's a fun listen, but far from their best work.

Many fans would make a strong case for their second album, Lincoln, to take the top spot. I see more merit in that. The band kept its eclecticism and added better songwriting (Ana Ng, Purple Toupee, The World's Address, Santa's Beard, Shoehorn with Teeth, Snowball in Hell). Even so, I think Flood should have been the one. It's They Might Be Giants' time capsule album, the one people are gonna remember. And, to my ear, it has fewer clunkers than Lincoln. In 2009, Rolling Stone did a track-by-track guide to Flood and called it the band's "signature" work. (This was, by the way, a complete reversal from the original 1990 review that the magazine published. In that review David Browne used the following words to describe Flood: "sophmoric", "novelty", "smug", "disposable", "facile", "throwaway", "grating", "glib" and "campy".)

Do you see what I mean about things being complicated? To add fuel to the fire, my personal favorites haven't even entered the conversation yet. Flood was my first TMBG album, and I'll always have a soft spot for it, but Apollo 18 (1992) and John Henry (1994) are the soundtracks of my formative years. The first (of six) times I've seen them in concert was the John Henry tour, and the songs from that album are still rattling around in my brain. Apollo 18 is the true bridge between what the band were (genre-hopping pop outsiders) and what they became (quirky pop-rock), and, at least until this year's Join Us, their last album to truly straddle that line without going too far one way or the other.

So what to conclude? I'll present it in the form of a comprehension question, with multiple choice answers.

a) They Might Be Giants have made so many good albums that they even fans and critics can't agree on which one is best.
b) David Browne takes himself too seriously.
c) Everybody dies frustrated and sad and that is beautiful.
d) All of the above.

2011: 11 Albums I'm Glad I Bought

2011-12-12T03:49:00.000-06:00

Though it surely wasn't reflected in my blogging frequency, 2011 found my relationship with music rebounding from the slump of the last few years.Though most new artists and I remain strictly platonic, several old flames rekindled the passion.

As has been tradition the last couple of years, here're the albums that stuck with me the most. Along with my thoughts, I've listed my personal highlights.

Adele: 21

One of those rare moments where the commercial and the critical and the personal all align. Though the album's currently on the edge of overexposure for me, I think it's one that will endure a long time.

Faves: Rollin' in the Deep, Rumour Has It, Set Fire to the Rain, One and Only, Someone Like You

The Cars: Move Like This

Let's face it, reunion albums tend to have an air of desperation and the sweat of trying too hard to recapture past glories. Move Like This manages to avoid that completely. Ric, David, Greg, and Eliot pick back up and zip through these 10 songs as if it'd been 24 hours, not 24 years, since they last recorded.

Faves: Blue Tip, Too Late, Soon, Sad Song, Take a Look, Hits Me

Death Cab for Cutie: Codes and Keys

For me, their previous album, Narrow Stairs, was a slow-grower, revealing its considerable charms after many many listens. This one got to me quicker, but I have a feeling it will make less lasting impression. Even so, it's got a lot to recommend it.

Faves: Codes and Keys, You Are a Tourist, Unobstructed Views, Underneath the Sycamore, St. Peter's Cathedral, Stay Young,Go Dancing

The Decemberists: The King is Dead

The Decemebrists past work has felt too affected to me, but this one is straight ahead and irresistable. Straddling the middle ground between Americana and indie rock, the album is a gem from front to back.

Faves: The whole thing, but especially June Hymn. I don't typically have emotional reactions to songs, but that one gets me.

Fountains of Wayne: Sky Full of Holes

A bit less bombastic than F.O.W.s last couple of albums, Sky Full of Holes has quieter charms. The songwriting, however, is as sharp as ever.

Faves: The Summer Place, Acela, Action Hero, A Dip in the Ocean, A Road Song

Kaiser Chiefs: The Future is Medieval

Kaiser Chiefs have quickly and quietly (at least in the U.S.) been building up a pretty amazing oeuvre. The Future is Medieval (still unreleased here) is a great addition. The band initally offered a "make your own album" via their website, with 20 tracks to choose from. Then they released their own 12 song version. The 8 songs they left off are equally (and in some cases more) worthy.

Faves: Things Change, Long Way from Celebrating, Out of Focus, Man on Mars, Heard it Break, Howlaround, Problem Solved, I Dare You, Can't Mind My Own Business, My Place Is Here

Rogue Valley: False Floors

This is pretty amazing. In a one year timespan, Minneapolis songwriter Chris Koza and his bandmates released four proper albums, one for each season. Winter's entry, False Floors, was the only one to come out in 2011, but it's also my favorite.

Faves: False Floors, Blueprints, Orion, The Scattering Moon

The Roots: undun

It's early on this one (it just came out December 6), but the first couple of listens were hypnotic. Even without a clear standout track, the warm, organic, melancholy vibe of the album is undeniable.

Sloan: The Double Cross

Sloan's 10th album in their 20th year is typically great.

Faves: The Answer was You, Unkind, Shadow of Love, Your Daddy Will Do, Beverly Terrace, Laying So Low

They Might Be Giants: Join Us

I'll admit, I'd all but written TMBG off. But Join Us is a strong return to form, with John Linnell especially bringing his "A" game. It's a diverse album, bringing to mind their Flood glory days most, but with the more musically mature touches of John Henry and Factory Showroom. When Will You Die immediately belongs in their top ten singles of all time.

Faves: Can't Keep Johnny Down, You Probably Get That a Lot, Canajoharie, Let Your Hair Hang Down, When Will You Die, Judy is Your Vietnam, Never Knew Love, You Don't Like Me

Wilco: The Whole Love

Wilco continue to surprise. The third album with this iteration of the band manages to happily marry their pop sensibilities to their need to experiment.

Faves: Art of Almost, Sunloathe, Dawned on Me, Open Mind, Capitol City

More Songs of 2011

2011-12-08T03:49:00.000-06:00

Here's the tracklisting and cover art for my end-of-the-year favorites mix. Click here to see the details on the first volume.

1. R.E.M.: All the Best
2. Raphael Saadiq: Radio
3. Wugazi: Killa Hill
4. Foo Fighters: Arlandria
5. The Rosebuds: The Woods
6. The Decemberists: Foregone
7. Wilco: Dawned on Me
8. They Might Be Giants: Can't Keep Johnny Down
9. "Weird Al" Yankovic: Skipper Dan
10. Fountains of Wayne: A Road Song
11. Death Cab for Cutie: You are a Tourist
12. Kaiser Cheifs: My Place is Here
13. Ben Folds Five: Stumblin' Home Winter Blues

Rock Solid: Paul Simon

2011-12-04T15:49:00.000-06:00

"If you only own one album by Paul Simon it's gotta be [insert masterpiece here]."

Welcome to Rock Solid, where we fill in the blank. Our goal is to pseudo-scientifically determine the best, the beloved, the most classic album in an artist's catalog.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources. The All Music Guide provides the professional critical point-of-view and Amazon.com offers the fan perspective (because most people who choose to review albums on Amazon are adoring fans of the artist in question). The album with the highest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the best.

An artist's entire body of work is eligible, with one exception: No compilations (i.e. greatest hits). In each case, I'll also share my personal favorite album by the artist in question, as if you care.

* * *

Paul Simon is a big baseball fan, so I'll start with a baseball analogy: Paul Simon is to songwriting what Joe DiMaggio was to the national pastime. Both men are undisputed hall-of-famers in their respective fields: amazingly consistent, fantastically talented, and wildly successful. (They had ill-fated marriages to movie stars, too, but we won't dwell on that.)

The numbers are gaudy. Just as many of Joltin' Joe's records still stand today, few musicians have put together a career quite as charmed as Paul Simon has. The Simon and Garfunkel years are nearly untouchable, and of the 10 proper albums he's released as a solo act, none can be considered truly bad. And there are masterpieces sprinkled throughout.

In fact, the AllMusic Guide identifies 3 perfect albums in the Paul Simon oeuvre: His 1973 self-titled debut, the 1974 follow-up There Goes Rhymin' Simon, and 1986's commercial giant Graceland. (Four others fall just short of masterpiece status, with 4.5 stars: Still Crazy After All These Years (1975), Hearts and Bones (1983), Surprise (2006), and So Beautiful or So What (2011)). The Amazon.com reviews are similar but stingier. Only Paul Simon and Graceland get perfect scores, with the latter garnering 91% perfect ratings (I told you the numbers were gaudy).

AMG's William Ruhlmann called Graceland "the standard against which subsequent musical experiments by major artists were measured." Which is nice, but in my eyes actually short-changes the album a bit (more on that soon).

Most of the Amazon.com review are, as usual, rhapsodic. Consider Fetish 2000, who says Graceland's "shift through various moods of being Exuberant, Poignant, Reflective, organic, and spiritual and Consistent remain[s] unquestionably impressive."

However, a strange undercurrent of anger runs through many of the reviews. Witness:

"When Graceland came out after the music's death by disco in the 80's, I was thrilled. At last, something great to listen to. What a sound!" (Joanna Daneman)
"Graceland is easily one of the best albums to come out of the otherwise dismal 80's, and a must-have for most music fans." (Dave Yoerke)
"Not much good came out of the 80s besides the Tampa Bay Buccaneers (and even THEY weren't good then). And actually, Paul Simon didn't come out of the 80s, either. He and Garfunkel had been recording some time before then. But Graceland came out of the 80s, and God, am I glad." (Patrick Varine)

Why all the blanket hatred for the '80s? I'm not sure. I don't understand it the way I don't understand why people like music from the '90s. (See what I did there?)

Moving on, Karissa Clark claims, "If you are looking for a way to breathe life and Cajun spice into your life, here's the way to do it! " Or this. And finally, we have the high praise of Raymond Engstrand: "The product is what I expected. It arrived on time and in the condition advertised."

Of course, many reviewers chose to focus on the "world music" aspect of Graceland, as though it were some sort of magical element. Sure, it's cool, but I believe attributing the artistic success of the album to the expanded musical palate is misdirected. Afterall, David Byrne and the Talking Heads had done similar incorporation of African rhythms on Remain In Light, as had Peter Gabriel on his third self-titled LP, both which came out a full 6 years earlier. Graceland's range may have been a bit wider than that of those two records, what with the zydeco and Tex-Mex inclusions, but it was nothing revolutionary.

That said, there's no way Graceland would have been the massive commercial hit (14 million in sales) it was without the international dressings. For one, it gave the album a story, and everyone loves that. For another, Simon had been commercially floundering with his old formula. His two previous albums, One Trick Pony (1980) and Hearts and Bones (1983), were both generally considered failures. They didn't sell up to Simon's usual standards, and the critics were not over the moon about them, either. There's nothing especially wrong with either album. Quite the contrary, actually (see below), but the the public is fickle with its musicians, and Simon had held their attention for longer than most. They'd drifted away until Graceland's crazy energy (due mostly to Simon's newfound musical inspiration) called them back.

Even so, the album would have been nothing without the typically-strong batch of songs Simon wrote. They're the heart of it all. They were and are amazing compositions, full of the precise lyrical flourishes and keen pop sensibilities that define Simon's career. At its core, Graceland is a singer-songwriter album. A listen to the demos (available on the 2004 remaster) for Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes and Homeless prove as much. The music of other lands inspired Simon, obviously, but the songs themselves are just as well-crafted as Still Crazy After All These Years, or 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover.

No song personifies the songwriting strength of Graceland better than the shimmering title track. In it, Simon and his son make a pilgrimage to Elvis Presley's homestead, envisioning it as a secular heaven, a place to repair broken hearts. The line that always gets me is: “Losing love is like a window in your heart / Everybody sees you’re blown apart." That Was Your Mother is a another songwriting highlight. It's perhaps, the least sentimental, but most truthful, song ever addressed to a child. Check out this chorus: "Well that was your mother / And that was your father / Before you were born, dude / When life was great / You are the burden of my generation / I sure do love you / But let's get that straight." As a parent, I get it now.

Really, the lyrics are surprising and amazing throughout, clearly earning Simon "pop poet" status.

The Boy in the Bubble: "It's a turn-around jump shot / It's everyone jump start / It's every generation throws a hero up the pop charts."
You Can Call Me Al: "He looks around, around / He sees angels in the architecture / Spinning in infinity / He says 'amen' and 'hallelujah'"
Under African Skies: "After the dream of falling and calling your name out / These are the roots of rhythm / And the roots of rhythm remain."

So, yes, Graceland is a great achievement. And it's it's a very fitting Rock Solid. But it's not my favorite Paul Simon album. For that, we have to go back a few paragraphs. The underloved Hearts and Bones is my go-to. I'm ever the sucker for a piece of art that is nakedly personal, and Hearts and Bones is exactly that. I'd say more, but you can read my detailed thoughts here.

As I reflect, there's one significant flaw in my comparison of Joe DiMaggio and Paul Simon. DiMaggio retired from baseball in 1951, at the age of 37. All of his greatest accomplishments (marrying Marilyn Monroe aside) were behind him. Paul Simon made Graceland in his mid-40s. And even if we take that as his peak, he's continued to make high-quality music for 25 more years. No need for the nation to turn its lonely eyes to him; he's been in front of us the whole time. And we're all the richer for it.

278. Refrigerated Love: Inmortality (2011)

2011-10-05T03:49:00.000-05:00

It's an established truism in the music industry that you can never count a good band out. A lesser-known but no-less-true correllary is that you can't really count the bad ones out either.

And thus we have Refrigerated Love, the British group Stephen Thomas Earlewine once called "the chronic bronchitis of rock."

It's been a wild ride since their 2008 reunion release No Expiration Date. That album found modest success, mostly due to ironic attention from hipster bloggers, and the band went back into full swing. In 2009 they put out a spiritual follow-up to their 1994 all-female cover album We Refuse To Pun the Word Cover. The album, Coming In, featured the band's renditions of tunes by gay artists such as Judas Priest, Husker Du, Ricky Martin, and Indigo Girls. Despite excellent song selection, the album tanked.

This began yet another dark period for Refrigerated Love. In 2010 Lead singer Colin Porthorn served as a judge on the disastrous reality series Sing For Your Life. Billed as a combination of Survivor and American Idol, the show placed contestants in life-threatening situations and required them to perform their way out. Porthorn's merciless "I don't see the passion" comment, often delivered before sending an off-pitch contestant to his or her apparent death, became a popular catchphrase briefly. After only three episodes, ABC cancelled the series due to pressure from reactionary parent groups and human rights activists.

Subsequently, and more tragically, Porthorn's attempt to cash in on his new fame with the solo power ballad Show (Me) Your Passion failed miserably. Despite being offered free as the iTunes Single of the Week, no one downloaded it.

In the meantime, lyricist Elvis Hornman was fired. Rumors of bitter feuds between Hornman and the rest of the band members had simmered since the mid-'80s, most traced back to Hornman's penchant for indiscriminately eating food out of the tour bus refrigerator, impolitely ignoring clear shelf labels.
Apparently the boys had finally had enough. Hornman, a notorious absinthe fiend with no musical ability, promptly laid claim to the Refrigerated Love name and declared his intention to tour with replacement musicians, setting off a bitter legal battle. Hornman lost, and has been touring under the name "Elvis Hornman's Frozen Romance". Catch them at your local depressing bar this winter.

Completing the triumvirate of tragedy, the band were unceremoniously dropped by their label, Polydor. In a terse statement, the label said simply, "It's not us, it's them."

Given this run of bad luck, it's a minor miracle that the band have soldiered on. Yet here we have their newest effort, Inmortality, which the band is releasing without a label. In a recent interview with Rolling Stone, guitarist Nigel Hornblower said, "Record labels are like dinosaurs. They roam the Earth, obsolete." Added keyboardist Hornel Lieberman, "With the advance of technology, we can take the songs right to the people with no middle man. We make all of our money off of t-shirt sales anyway."

Thus, the album is available on traditional outlets such as eMusic, iTunes, and Amazon.com, or directly through the Refrigerated Love website, where fans can pay $50 for a deluxe download package that includes a "poster-sized jpeg" and "extensive liner notes in .txt format". For an additional $5, "Refrigerated Love will friend you on Facebook!"

Initially, no member felt confident enough to write lyrics in Hornman's place, so the album began as a scat project. When recording sessions stiffed, the band took a 4 month hiatus. When they reconvened, they began to move forward by looking back. During the break, Hornblower audited a community college course called Lyrics as Poetry 102, and his mind was sufficiently blown. Said Hornblower: "Most of the most respected rock lyricists out there - Bob Dylan, Britney Spears, Gene Simmons - write lyrics that make little-to-no sense. They're just words strung together. And we thought, well, we can do that."

And indeed they have.

On several songs, the band members chose to collaborate in an exquisite corpse sort of style, and the result is the most lyrically impenetrable album in the Refrigerated Love ouvre. Take the ponderous opener, Sounds Like an Impressionist Painting, for example. The song starts as an indictment of sensationalist news exposes and ends up as an ode to a turtle sunning itself on a rock. Iridium is little more than a chanted list of transition metals, in alphabetical order (the didgeridoo backing from Lieberman is haunting). And Karaoke Night features such couplets as, "I saw you on the teeter totter / I've got myself a small pet otter" and "Never lose that magic touch / So and so and such and such." Oh, and there's no mention of karaoke anywhere in the song.

Elsewhere, thankfully, the band members took solo turns at composing lyrics. And while the results aren't always good, at least they are coherent. Porthorn offers up Mate, a reverse-double-entendre-laden ballad that seems to be about sex, but is really about friendship. Cue the awkward moments when you're driving with your friend and this tune comes on. Muscular rocker Get Over Here, on the flip side, both seems to be and actually is about sex. The chorus, "Get over here, and get under me / Get over here, I'll be on top" might have served as a Schoolhouse Rock lesson on prepositions, if not for the explicit content. Porthorn's final contribution, Amelia, first seems like a lost track from his Mystery Pants solo album (which featured 10 songs with women's names as titles), but is actually a surprisingly accurate retelling of Amelia Earhart's life.

Guitarist Hornblower contributes Fill Me and In Decay, both of which reflect his well-documented obsession with composting. Hornel Lieberman, long considered the hidden talent of the band, wrote the lyrics for Black Tie Only, a folk-style story song about a plucky young man trying to make his way in high society, and Under the Tundra, a dense and rhythmic bit of slam poetry. And even drummer "Pasty" Pete Pockhorn, the only Refrigerated Lover to have never made a solo album, gets in on the act. He's responsible for the abrasive Possessive Rant, which wins the award for the most accurately-titled song on the album, and It's Been a Long, a surprisingly thoughtful and strummy number that might just be about everything the band has been through together. Perhaps appropriately, the song ends abruptly mid verse.

But that's not the end. Following 12 seconds of silence, a two note piano drone starts up. After 12 minutes of that you're rewarded with a bonus track. In the liner notes, the bonus song is labeled as No Comment, and is credited thusly: "Music by Refrigerated Love. Lyrics by ???" This lack of credit has set of a firestorm of Internet speculation as to who contributed the words. Some suspect Elvis Hornman wrote the lyrics and will soon be welcomed back into the fold. Other signs point to Steven Sondheim as the composer. All parties thus far have played it coy.

The song itself is a mid-tempo pop number full of harmonies, not dissimilar to a mid-period Hollies track. Lyrically, it's a withering condemnation of the culture of Internet comment sections. Sample lyrics: "I must be a Billy Goat Gruff / Cause you're a troll whose makin' life rough" and "You'd never be that rude in person / Because you know you'd get a hurtin." It's insightful, timely, and clever, three things that are exactly the opposite of what one expects from Refrigerated Love.

And thus once again we find that we may have underestimated Refrigerated Love. Not to worry. They'll surely let us down again. That's another truism of pop music, one you can bank on.

Grade: B-
Fave Song: It's Been a Long

Want more Love? Check out the updated Band History and Discography (we're still waiting for approval to put these up on Wikipedia).

277. "Weird Al" Yankovic: Alpocalypse (2011)

2011-08-17T15:49:00.000-05:00

Just when I thought I was out...

Last year I did a marathon review-every-"Weird Al"-album project. Honestly, it was more "Weird Al" than any person should have to experience in a short period of time. But now, Al's back with a new album, Alpocalypse, and duty compels me to throw in my two cents.

I actually already wrote about 5 of these songs, because Al released them 2 years ago as the Internet Leaks EP. I wrote then that this was somewhat of an odd strategy, and I still feel that way. It essentially means that a little less than half the new album is actually new. It's also disappointing because, as you'll see, I didn't much care for 4 of the 5 songs on the EP.

Following the format of my past "Weird Al" reviews, let's take a look at Alpocalypse.

Parodies:
The album leads off with Perform This Way, a take on Lady Gaga's anthem Born This Way. There was apparently a misunderstanding about this song, with Al going to great lengths to get the tune approved (he won't parody a song without the original artist's permission) only to have Lady Gaga refuse at the last minute. Once he went public with the story, however, she promptly changed course, claiming she'd always intended to let him release it. As it is, the back story is actually more interesting than the song's lyrics, which amounts to little more than "Lady Gaga does weird stuff, doesn't she?"

TMZ uses Taylor Swift's You Belong To Me to comment on rabid celebrity trash journalism. The song wisely places equal blame on the members of the media and the celebrities themselves, as evidenced by the line "It's getting to the point where a famous person can't even get a DUI or go on a racist rant."

Miley Cyrus' ubiquitous Party in the U.S.A. becomes Party in the C.I.A., and like the best Al parodies, the juxtaposition of the source material and lyrical subject matter is ultra-effective. Thus we end up with hilariously absurd lyrics such as "staging a coup like yeah / brainwashing moles like yeah." This is the best parody on the album. And while that isn't saying a whole lot, it doesn't diminish the quality of the song.

Whatever You Like is a parody of the 3-year old T.I. tune of the same name. I already went into detail on this one (follow the link above). In summary: I'm not a fan.

Finally, Another Tattoo is a Crazy List song based on Nothin' On You by B.O.B. and Bruno Mars. Like all the parodies on Alpocalypse (save Party in the C.I.A.) it's passable but by-the-numbers. In other words, Al's not really pushing his craft or anything.

Style Parodies:
Of the four style parodies that appeared on the earlier EP, Skipper Dan is the clear winner. It's got heart, doesn't go for the easy jokes, and manages to musically recall its source material (Fountains of Wayne, though other reviewers have claimed Weezer; I don't see it) without ripping it off. The other three, Craigslist (a Doors riff), Ringtone (a Queen riff), and CNR (a White Stripes riff) vary in quality, with none particularly floating my boat.

If That Isn't Love finds Al taking on the style of Hanson. This seems random and left field unless you know that Al is friends with the brothers, having directed a handful of videos for them. The song boasts a decent melody, and - get this - the theme is actually mature (namely that being part of a couple is more than just the sweet stuff) though the specifics aren't. It's riddled with sophomoric references to butt cracks, farting, obesity, boogers, spastic bladders, and so on. Despite that, it's one of the better songs on the album.

In latter years, Al's obsession with TV has been replaced by a fixation on computers. He has devoted songs to eBay (eBay), Craigslist (Craigslist), core processors (It's All About the Pentiums), viruses (Virus Alert), and illegal downloading (Don't Download this Song). So here's a tune about chain e-mails, Stop Forwarding That Crap To Me. The song is in the bombastic, multi-movement style of Meat Loaf's work with Jim Steinman (Paradise By the Dashboard Light, I'll Do Anything For Love, etc.). There are some good moments, especially when Al touches on how quickly misinformation spreads on the Interweb, with the conclusion, "I have high hopes that someone will point you toward Snopes and debunk that crazy junk you're spewing constantly."

Polka Medley:
The always-enjoyable polka medley is here as well, this time entitled Polka Face. It contains the following songs: Poker Face (Lady Gaga), Womanizer (Britney Spears), Right Round (Flo Rida), Day 'n' Nite (Kid Cudi), Need You Now (Lady Antebellum), Baby (Justin Bieber), So What (Pink), I Kissed a Girl (Katy Perry), Fireflies (Owl City), Blame it (on the Alcohol) (Jamie Foxx), Replay (Iyaz), Down (Jay Sean), Break Your Heart (Taio Cruz), and Tik Tok (Ke$ha).

As is consistent with his work in the last 15 years, it feels like Al is mostly going through the paces, with an exception here or there. But, as always, add a letter grade if you are a boy between the ages of 11 and 15.

References to TV: 3
References to food: 3
Grade: C-
Fave Song: Skipper Dan

Songs of 2011

2011-06-18T15:49:00.003-05:00

Every year I make a compilation of some of my favorite songs. Some years I make two. This is one of those years. Here's the tracklist and cover art for my first-half-of-2011 collection:

1. Sloan: Shadow of Love
2. Adele: Rumour Has It
3. The Cars: Sad Song
4. Duran Duran: All You Need Is Now
5. White Light Riot: Conduit
6. Tapes 'n Tapes: Freak Out
7. The Get Up Kids: Regent's Court
8. Beastie Boys: The Larry Routine
9. Paul Simon: So Beautiful Or So What
10. Fleet Foxes: Helplessness Blues
11. Rogue Valley: Orion
12. Apex Manor: The Party Line
13. The Decemberists: This Is Why We Fight
14. Sloan: Beverly Terrace

Rock Solid: Van Halen

2011-05-30T03:49:00.001-05:00

"If you only own one album by Van Halen it's gotta be [insert masterpiece here]."

Welcome to Rock Solid, where we fill in the blank. Our goal is to pseudo-scientifically determine the best, the beloved, the most classic album in an artist's catalog.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources. The All Music Guide provides the professional critical point-of-view and Amazon.com offers the fan perspective (because most people who choose to review albums on Amazon are adoring fans of the artist in question). The album with the highest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the best.

An artist's entire body of work is eligible, with one exception: No compilations (i.e. greatest hits). In each case, I'll also share my personal favorite album by the artist in question, as if you care.

* * *

Word has it that Van Halen will put out a new album this year. It would be their first full-length effort in 13 years, and their first with lead singer David Lee Roth in 28 years. Given the Van Halen brothers' spotty work ethic and volatile history with lead singers, I'll believe that when I'm holding the new album in my hands. But what better time, as we wait with skeptical anticipation, to review the band's moments of greatest glory?

Since I am an equal opportunity Van Halen fan (meaning I see the merits of all versions of the band, Gary Cherone years excluded), we'll be awarding them two Rock Solids. One with Roth and one with Sammy Hagar. In the interest of forthrightnesss, I must tell you that all but one of the 6 original Roth albums critically outperformed the 4 Hagar ones. Whether or not that's justified is a different matter.

David Lee Roth:

It was basically a two man race here. The band's 1978 self-titled debut vs. their 1983 opus 1984. Both received perfect 5 star ratings from the All Music Guide. They both got 4.5 stars from Amazon.com reviewers, however, the debut had 84% 5 star ratings to 1984's 67%. So Van Halen it is.

And it's hard to argue. The album features no less that 5 stone cold classics (and more dropped g's than you can shake a stick at): Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love, Jamie's Cryin', You Really Got Me, Runnin' With the Devil, and Eruption.

The tireless Stephen Thomas Earlewine of the All Music Guide calls the album "stellar" and "seminal" (have you ever noticed that no one uses the word "seminal" outside of college classrooms and music reviews?). He also finds the albums' songs to be "vital, surprising...and really revolutionary, because no other band rocked like this before." For a man whose sparing with his hyperbole, that's damn fine praise.

Amazon.com reviewers, who are rarely sparing with the hyperbole, are on the same wavelength. I'll let a couple of them speak for themselves:

"This was something new, something purely American, and opened the door to what we know as Hard Rock or Heavy Metal today. It's impossible to listen to any rock artist today and not hear the influence of Van Halen." (Graboidz)
"Every song on this album is basically an advanced lesson in futuristic guitar playing. Nowadays, anyone and their grandmother's grandmother can do hyperdrive hammer ons and pull offs sprinkled with some telepathic psycho harmonic doorbells concluding with a kamikaze dive bomb whammy bar...but way back then, it was Eddie." (Rixter 109)

But is Van Halen Roth-era Van Halen's best work? Voices dissent. Jinx McElroy believes that "Van Halen 1 is not the best Van Halen album. Most fans will tell you either Fair Warning or Women and Children First hold that dubious title." Why is it a "dubious" title? Only Jinx knows. However, The One Who Knows (his name says it all) purports that "while Van Halen's subsequent CD's all had great tunes, none were as consistently excellent as this one."

My sentimental favorite is actually the band's supposed Rock Bottom (Diver Down), and I think 1984 hits higher highs, but overall, as I said, Van Halen is the objective best of the David Lee Roth years. At least until this new one comes out.

Sammy Hagar:

In the case of Van Hagar, the All Music Guide is quite stingy, with an average 3 star rating for their four albums. The one that raises the average (with 4 stars) is the 1986 Hagar debut, 5150. Amazingly, Amazon reviewers gave every Van Hagar album 4 stars. 5150 also comes out tops here, with 51% 5 star reviews (compared to 31%, 48%, and 44% for OU812, F.U.C.K., and Balance, respectively).

Though 5150 has some great high points (Why Can't This Be Love, Dreams, Best of Both Worlds, and Love Walks In), I'm not in as complete agreement here as I was about Van Halen. More on that later. First, let's hear from the critic and fans.

It's pretty clear where Earlewine falls on the whole Sammy vs. Dave debate, but he does have some nice things to say about 5150, even backhanding the Roth era a tiny bit: "[Hagar] helped push Van Halen into a dedication to writing full-fledged songs, something that often seemed an afterthought in the original lineup." Harsh!

But Stevie can't help philosophizing a bit as well:"And so Van Hagar was a bit of an odd mix -- a party band and a party guy, slowly veering into a bourgeois concept of respectability, something that eventually sunk the band." I think he's kind of dramatically saying Van Halen got too self-serious under Hagar. I'll buy that. Ultimately, though, Earlewine finds 5150 to be a "pretty impressive opening act."

Most Amazon.com fans give similarly qualified praise, but some find Sammy's work with the band to be superior to his predecessor's:

"I am a VH fan and to me this is their best album. It really has it all: a great mix of melodies and guitar rock. What makes Eddie so great is his unreal guitar skills combined with his ability to write memorable tunes and no VH album shows that better than 5150." (Slim Pickins)
"I have to disagree with some who think Eddie's best work was earlier in his career. As great as his early playing was (and it was great), I think it was a little one dimensional. His later work shows improved sophistication and real mastery of the instrument. His ability to compose a good melody and put underneath it a complex guitar accompaniment (it's so busy it's hard to call it accompaniment) really shines on 5150. (Clay Gilbert)
"If you ever buy just one Van Halen album in your entire life, make sure it's this one." (Anonymous)

Others are less concerned about the album's place in history and are instead intent on enjoying it for what it is. Dequan Waters says that 5150 "delivers optimism, fantasy, and appreciation." And Ian5150 reveals that, "This album + my air guitar skills = I got laid for first time in high school." Man, I wish I'd been better at math in high school.

Myself, I actually prefer 1995's Balance, Hagar's swan song with the group. It's not a popular choice, for sure, probably because it doesn't boast any huge singles on the same level as the earlier three albums. Despite that, it's actually the only Van Hagar album I actually enjoy listening to from front to back.

But course the true Van Halen Rock Solid is Greatest Hits, Volume 1. Get that, download Jamie's Cryin', Everybody Wants Some, Hot For Teacher, I'll Wait, Finish What Ya Started, and Not Enough, and you're all set.

Rock Solid: U2

2011-04-02T15:49:00.017-05:00

"If you only own one album by U2 it's gotta be [insert masterpiece here]."

Welcome to Rock Solid, where we fill in the blank. Our goal is to pseudo-scientifically determine the best, the beloved, the most classic album in an artist's catalog.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources. The All Music Guide provides the professional critical point-of-view and Amazon.com offers the fan perspective (because most people who choose to review albums on Amazon are adoring fans of the artist in question). The album with the highest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the best.

The declared winner will be subjected to the Thriller Test (do I need to explain the name?), a set of 4 criteria an album should meet to be considered a masterpiece. Those are 1) at least 3 hits, 2) great album tracks that sh/could have been hits, 3) no filler, and 4) memorable cover art.

An artist's entire body of work is eligible, with one exception: No compilations (i.e. greatest hits). In each case, I'll also share my personal favorite album by the artist in question, as if you care.

* * *

You probably think this one is a no-brainer. The album cover that comes to mind when one hears the words "U2's best album" probably features black bars at the top and bottom and a black and white photo of the band in the middle of the desert (in medium shot, bunched up on the left hand side). The Joshua Tree, 1987's epic breakthrough that featured Where the Streets Have No Name, I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For, and With Or Without You, is U2's best-selling and best-known album.

But it's not their best-reviewed and best-loved.

You may have forgotten about a little number called Achtung Baby, 1991's epic dirty pop masterpiece. Can you believe it's U2's only album to receive perfect overall ratings from both the All Music Guide and Amazon.com reviewers? I can.

Sibilant Stephen Thomas Erlewine of the All Music Guide says Achtung Baby is "vibrant and endlessly inventive." He also feels that, "Few bands as far into their career as U2 have recorded an album as adventurous or fulfilled their ambitions quite as successfully...and the result is arguably their best album."

Amazon.com fan reviewers are similarly gob-smacked. DJ Jazzyjoe finds Achtung Baby to be "easily U2's best, if not the best of the entire 1990's." Ape-Dawg does him one further, stating: "Achtung Baby is BY FAR the BEST U2 album, as well as one of (if not the BEST) albums of the 90's, and of all time!" David H. says simply, "U2 can never top this."

M. Fine believes Achtung "this is a musical classic as much as The Three Musketeers is a literary classic." An anonymous reviewer adds: "This is the album that every human being NEEDS to own!" I propose that, upon birth, every baby born in the U.S. should be given a copy of The Three Musketeers and Achtung Baby. Maybe then our test scores will go up.

Kevin Day is so inspired that he mixes up his metaphors: "This album is filled with moods and colors that not only change the atmosphere of the room, but turn it on its head." Then Lazarous072 shows him how to do it right: "Not to slight the Beatles in any way, but Sgt. Pepper's is a whole greater than the sum of its parts--not the band's best collection of individual songs. Imagine experiencing Pepper as being hit in the back of a head with a frying pan, whereas Achtung Baby is a collection of 12 separate painful pins sharply stuck all over your body: they each hurt equally, and in a different place, a different way." Well played, sir!

Finally, even "Bono" himself chimes in: "I love all these wanna-be Rolling Stone employees, with thier 15 paragraph reviews and fancy words they had to look up in the dictionary. Here is my review for Achtung Baby - best U2 album made."

I totally agree. Achtung Baby has always been my favorite U2 disc. I love how it finds Bono turning away from the soul-searching of The Joshua Tree and the world-beating of Rattle and Hum to examine different aspects of relationships (romantic and otherwise). I love how much of a musical 180 the album was from its predecessors, adding new weapons to the U2 arsenal (the most powerful being the Edge's buzzy new guitar tone). But most of all I love the songs themselves.

Let's see how it does on the Thriller Test.

1) At least 3 hits
Achtung Baby placed four hits in the U.S. top 40: Who's Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses, Even Better Than the Real Thing, Mysterious Ways, and One. The latter two went top 10, and One might just be U2's crowning achievement, whether you choose to see it as being about a romantic relationship, world peace, or the band itself. Pass

2) Great album tracks
Hell yeah. Zoo Station, So Cruel, Ultraviolet (Light My Way), and Until the End of the World are all alternate universe hits. The Fly was actually the first single released from the album and though it did well overseas (#1 in Ireland, Australia, and Britain), it stiffed in the U.S. Pass

3) No filler
The album's final two tracks are less memorable than the others, but they are difficult to dismiss. Acrobat features searing guitar work and some surprising toughness from Bono ("Don't let the bastards grind you down!") And the musical slow burn of closer Love is Blindness puts the focus squarely on the dark truth of the lyrics. Pass

4) Memorable cover art
Certainly not as iconic as some of the band's other album covers (War, The Joshua Tree, Rattle & Hum), it's at least instantly recognizable and representative of the music within. However, it wouldn't make a list of the 100 best album covers of all time. Pass, barely

To be fair, there are probably at least two other U2 albums could also pass this test. But instead of seeing it as a deciding factor, I see it as evidence of Achtung Baby's worthiness.

So there you have it: A rare case where the fans and critics agree with each other, and manage to get it right. Savor the moment.

12 by Old 97's

2011-03-17T03:49:00.002-05:00

Here's the drill: 12 songs to summarize an artist's career, in chronological order (of course).

Featuring:

"12 by" is an old feature; the last time I did one was April of 2009. But upon discovering belatedly that the Old 97's put a new record out last fall (The Grand Theatre Volume 1), I realized they're due for a career summary.

1. If My Heart Was a Car (from Hitchhike to Rhome, 1994)
Lays out a rough blueprint for the band: Fast tempo, country roots, raw but controlled vocals, and metaphor-laden lyrics about how f***ed-up love can be ("If my heart was a car / you would have stripped it a long time ago").

2. 4 Leaf Clover (from Hitchhike to Rhome, 1994)
This one is always a concert highlight.

3. Victoria (from Too Far to Care, 1996)
I want Rhett Miller to write a song about me.

4. Timebomb (from Wreck Your Life, 1997)
A perfect marriage of music, lyrics, and performance. The narrator is about to lose control, and the song spends its entire 3 minute lifespan walking on the right side of chaos.

5. Barrier Reef (from Wreck Your Life, 1997)
"My name's Stuart Ransom Miller / I'm a serial lady killer / She said, 'I'm already dead' / That's exactly what she said."

6. Murder (or a Heart Attack) (from Fight Songs, 1999)

This catchy tune has a chorus that goes "And I may be leavin' myself open to a murder or a heart attack / But I'm leavin' the back door open 'til you come home again." I could easily be interpreted to be about a rocky romance, but it's actually about a lost cat! Somehow that makes me like it even more.

7. Valentine (from Fight Songs, 1999)
There's typically one or two songs on every Old 97's album on which bassist Murray Hammond takes lead vocals. I have to say I'm not a huge fan of those songs, except for Valentine. Over an understated arrangement, Hammond details how "it's a lonely, lonely feeling when your Valentine is wrong."

8. Bird in a Cage (from Satellite Rides, 2001)
Any number of songs could have represented the excellent Satellite Rides album, but I chose this one because it perfectly describes an unfortunate romantic situation I was trapped in, and the way I justified it: "I may be a bird in a cage, but at least it's your cage."

9. Won't Be Home (from Drag It Up, 2004)
Picked this one mostly for the chorus, which plays on repeat in my head on a fairly regular basis.

10. Dance With Me (from Blame It On Gravity, 2008)
With a bit of a nod to Elvis Costello and the Attractions.

11. The One (from Blame It On Gravity, 2008)
The lyrics of this clever number recast the band members (three of whom are mentioned by name) as audacious bank robbers who feel so confident that they choose Highway 101 in Los Angeles, a notoriously traffic-heavy stretch of road, as their escape route. It's really about the band's experience signing a deal with Elektra records, recording in L.A., and feeling like the world is their oyster.

12. Every Night Is Friday Night (Without You) (from The Grand Theatre, Volume One, 2010)
The new album finds the band returning to a purer, rawer country rock sound, and this rocker is one of the finest examples of that.

Rock Solid: Monkees

2011-01-24T15:49:00.002-06:00

"If you only own one album by The Monkees it's gotta be [insert masterpiece here]."

Welcome to Rock Solid, where we fill in the blank. Our goal is to pseudo-scientifically determine the best, the beloved, the most classic album in an artist's catalog.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources. The All Music Guide provides the professional critical point-of-view and Amazon.com offers the fan perspective (because most people who choose to review albums on Amazon are adoring fans of the artist in question). The album with the highest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the best.

An artist's entire body of work is eligible, with one exception: No compilations (i.e. greatest hits). In each case, I'll also share my personal favorite album by the artist in question, as if you care.

* * *

I spent a lot of time on the Monkees back in 2009, reviewing all 11 of their albums, plus a compilation and a '70s half-revival. I devoted a lot of words to the "pre-fab four" but one thing I didn't officially determine was which of their albums is the best. If compilations were allowed, I'd go with Then & Now...The Best of the Monkees and call it a day. But since rules are rules, we have to look elsewhere.

The All Music Guide finds there to be no perfect Monkees album. The two highest-rated albums are 1967's double shot of Headquarters and Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn, & Jones Ltd with 4.5 stars each. Amazon.com reviewers are kinder, bestowing 4.5 stars on five Monkees albums (their debut, More of the Monkees, Head, and the two mentioned above). With a slightly higher percentage of 5 star reviews on Amazon, Headquarters takes the Rock Solid title.

Now I may be slightly hypocritical here in supporting this choice. See, I balked at Tumbleweed Connection as Elton John's Rock Solid because it isn't representative of who he is as an artist. Likewise, Headquarters, because it was recorded by the group alone (instead of the usual studio musicians) and features no huge hits, is not truly representative of who the Monkees were, at least in public perception.

HOWEVER (and here's where the critic attempts to explain away his double standard), I feel Elton is one of the rare artists who is perfectly rated. That is to say: He's not overrated or underrated, he's just rated (thanks to Chuck Klosterman for this concept). The Monkees, on the other hand, are both overrated and underrated. Diehard fans won't hesitate to compare them to the Beatles, despite the fact that several sections of their catalog are abysmal; anyone who tells you otherwise has not spent enough time listening to Your Auntie Grizelda. At the same time, they are not nearly given enough credit for their talent, staying power, or spirit of experimentation. One listen to Headquarters proves that.

There's also the matter of intention. Way too much of the praise heaped on Tumbleweed Connection was some form of "Elton John is usually rubbish, but this is a great album!" In other words, it was backhanded complimenting. Headquarters' accolades feature none of this faint praise.

That cleared up, let's move on to the critic and fan perceptions.

The All Music Guide's Tim Sendra calls Headquarters a "dynamic, exciting, and impressive album." He says what it lacks in hits it makes up for in good songs, and that the Monkees proved "they were legitimate musicians with enough brains, heart, and soul as anyone else claiming to be a real band in 1967."

On Amazon.com, fan reviewers echo these sentiments. Clark the Shark shouts, "WHAT A SHEAR [sic] MASTERPIECE FOR ANY BAND/...LET ALONE A BAND THAT ISN'T EVEN A BAND." Steve Cronen doesn't shy away from comparisons: "Revolver. Exile on Main Street. Who's Next. Blonde on Blonde. These are some of the best albums ever. Headquarters, the album on which the Monkees broke free from their 'manufactured pop' image, ranks right along with 'em." And Sebastian Davies claims that Headquarters "is the album that proves it don't take great musicians to make great music." Um, thanks, I think?

The album's do-it-yourself nature (though the Monkees didn't write all the songs themselves) also inspires some anachronistic hyperbole. "I venture to say Headquarters would be labeled an indie pop masterpiece had it been released now by a bunch of no names," says Jeff Lekson, starting us off easy. Next, JK Baxter claims the album is "at heart, a garage band tour de force...the force behind this album is just so raw, I even want to use the word 'punk' here!" And William brings it all home: "This is the Sex Pistols had they stuck it out for another four albums."

And then there's this anonymous review, which I'll let speak for itself:

This has got to be the greatest album of all time. i will give anyone who disagrees the worst pinchet of all time. sunny girlfriend is the best monkees song ever recorded, when i rule, it will be a national song. this album shows how great Mike Nesmith really is. i got to meet him once, he shook my hand told me that i was a failure and said that i had to shave my sideburns because he invented them, then he punched me in the face. You can see why i like him so much. he hates animals just like me. i like my rabbit and he is my best friend. my bird is El's best friend but i hate it and it will pay the ultimate price if it ever hisses at me. she is also best friends with someone who sits in an empty bathtub and freezes.I think that is why i like this album so much because when played backwards it gives you the secret recipe to make a flaming golpangis and talks about bornage.

Overall, it's hard to deny Headquarters its place at the top, either musically or sentimentally. I'd have to put it as my own personal favorite of their proper albums, as well. And that's with or without the bornage.

Author's Note: For more, read my original review of Headquarters.

Rock Solid: Weezer

2011-01-01T15:49:00.007-06:00

"If you only own one album by Weezer it's gotta be [insert masterpiece here]."

Welcome to Rock Solid, where we fill in the blank. Our goal is to pseudo-scientifically determine the best, the beloved, the most classic album in an artist's catalog.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources. The All Music Guide provides the professional critical point-of-view and Amazon.com offers the fan perspective (because most people who choose to review albums on Amazon are adoring fans of the artist in question). The album with the highest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the best.

An artist's entire body of work is eligible, with one exception: No compilations (i.e. greatest hits). In each case, I'll also share my personal favorite album by the artist in question, as if you care.

* * *

Oh, Weezer. What more can we say about you? You've made us love you, made us hate you, made us question your sanity, made us question our sanity. Just when we think maybe we can embrace the strangeness (2009's Raditude), you throw out something like 2010's terrible Hurley (I actually lost 5 I.Q. points while listening to Where's My Sex). And not even the fans or critics can agree on when you are actually being more terrible: The Metacritic rating for Ratitude is 57; Hurley's is 68.

You know things have gone wrong when someone starts an online fund-raising campaign to get you to quit making music, as James Burns did in the fall of 2010. Said Burns, "I beg you, Weezer. This is an abusive relationship, and it needs to stop now. If we reach at least $10,000,000, then we get the chance to possibly stop hearing about a shitty new Weezer album every goddamn year." (Burns has since suspended the campaign, having proven his point).

I usually hate when critics and fans pile on the they're-not-as-good-as-they-used-to-be bandwagon. It always seems so closed-minded and cynical. It seems to disallow others the right to discover something wonderful that I just can't see because of whatever blocks I've put up. But Weezer present a strong challenge to my open-mindedness. In their case I feel completely justified in saying that they've lost their magic.

HOWEVER, let's not focus on the bad for once. Let's look at what gave us such high expectations for Rivers, Brian, Patrick, and Matt/Mikey/Scott in the first place. If you know anything about the last 15 years of pop music, then you probably know which two Weezer albums will contend for the top spot: their 1994 debut, Weezer (a.k.a. The Blue Album), and the 1996 follow-up Pinkerton.

So which is it? Both receive perfect 5 star ratings from the All Music Guide as well as Amazon.com. This is where we have to get picky. So I looked at the percentage of 5-star ratings on Amazon.com. Weezer has 88%. Pinkerton has 86%. It doesn't get much closer than that folks. Now, I could spend this space debating the relative merits of each album, but for simplicity's sake, I'm going to let the Blue Album stand as winner. I'll give Pinkerton its due before I wrap up.

So, of Weezer, the STE (Stephen Thomas Erlewine) at AMG (All Music Guide) says, "time has been nothing but kind to Weezer's eponymous debut album." He also adds this gem: "If, as Howard Hawks said, a good movie consists of three great scenes and no bad ones, it could be extrapolated that a good record contains three great songs and no bad ones -- in that case, Weezer is a record with at least six or seven great songs and no bad ones."

Over on Amazon.com, Stu Schroeder is feeling the same vibe: "Not only is it the best album in Weezer's catalog, but it very well could be song-for-song the most consistent 40 minutes in music history." Josh Reynolds continues the hyperbole, claiming that Weezer is "everything you can want in an album and you can never get bored of it." And Grant Jordahl finds the album to be "perfect for driving and doing homework!"

Many Amazon reviewers believe the album to be a must-own:

goven: "Everyone should have their first album. If you don't, quite frankly it's just strange."
Weezier: "There's no reason why not to buy the Blue Album."
Laszlo Matyas: "This is a just plain great album, and it belongs in every half-decent music collection." (But only the half-decent collections, not the fully decent ones?)

Still others assert that Weezer have not topped their debut. Samot says, "I really don't think Weezer ever made a more consistent, more infectious, or more charming album than this one." And Alex contends that "Weezer might have written great songs in the future, but they never were able to recapture this sound again, and that's probably why everyone remains so nostalgic for their past."

Surprisingly, there are very few mentions of Pinkerton at all. In fact, the Amazon.com reviews are much more concerned with comparing the Blue Album to other watershed '90s albums, like Nirvana's Nevermind and Oasis' Definitely Maybe. And then there's Oliver Eckles: "This is the best rock album since Led Zeppelin's Houses of the Holy." Okay, sure.

I'm partial to the Blue Album myself. In fact, if the totalitarian Obama administration gets their way and forces me to give up my constitutional right to own more than 10 CDs, it might make the cut. A big part of it is nostalgia. The Blue Album hit me at the exact right time in life and I was completely susceptible to its wiles. But at the same time, its charm hasn't worn over the years. I still thrill over the quiet/loud dynamic of Say It Ain't So, cringe at the naked jealousy of the narrator in No One Else, and still completely understand wanting a girl that looks like Mary Tyler Moore (circa 1965). In the Garage is probably the best four minute description of outsider adolescence that exists, and The World Has Turned and Left Me Here always sends me into a fugue-like revelry.

I like Pinkerton too, just not as much. Plus, I hate the half-truth legend that has formed around it. Yes, not many people liked it when it came out (myself included). Yes, it grows on you. Yes, it's a good record. BUT - lazy rock critics listen up - it DID NOT create emo. Emo started in the mid-'80s, 10 years before Pinkerton. Bands like Rites of Spring, Jawbreaker, and Sunny Day Real Estate got it going. Bands like Braid, Jimmy Eat World, Promise Ring, and Get-Up Kids all formed, played shows, and/or made albums before Pinkerton came out. Maybe a lot of current emo bands cite it as an influence, but that doesn't mean it created the genre. Pinkerton is also portrayed as being a dark and tortured record, but really only a handful of the songs fit that bill. A good portion of the album is actually kinda funny (Tired of Sex, El Scorcho, Pink Triangle, The Good Life).

So let's conclude with a moment of silence for Weezer. They may continue to put out albums, appear on TV and magazine covers, and put out the occasional irresistible single, but it's clear that we really lost them somewhere in the the murky fog of 1996.

276. XTC: Apple Venus, Volume 1 (1999)

2010-12-21T15:49:00.002-06:00

I have never anticipated an album more than I anticipated XTC's Apple Venus, Volume 1.

I caught my first whiff of XTC in 1996 and quickly became a slavish fan over the next couple of years. When I discovered www.chalkhills.org, an amazing unofficial fan site, things got deep. There I learned not only had XTC been involved in a 7-year legal fight with Virgin records since the release of Nonsuch, but that the fight was basically over. A light had appeared at the end of the tunnel. They were soon to be free, and soon to release not one, but two, new albums!

My fervor only grew once I got my hands on a bootleg cassette of the demos for said albums (thanks to a kind fellow Chalkhills listserv member). I played that cassette to death. You'd think that already knowing most of the songs on an album would dampen one's anticipation, but it didn't happen in my case. In fact, my desire to hear the final produced versions only grew. My mania for XTC was not to be denied (and I had only been waiting a couple of years to hear new music from them; I can't imagine what it must have been like for the fans who had been waiting since 1992).

Very few times are such fevered high hopes fulfilled, but I don't remember having a single bit of disappointment upon hearing the album for the first time, on a spring day in 1999. Apple Venus, Volume 1 struck me as revelatory, majestic, and beautiful.

The album can be split fairly evenly between pastoral orchestral songs and quiet ballads. There's not an electric guitar to be heard, and I'd Like That is the only uptempo number. If you played this album next to White Music, few people would identify the two records as coming from the same band. I'd also argue that it's the most uniquely British album in the band's catalog, with English references abounding.

Leading off the orchestral tunes and the album is River of Orchids, a plinking number about nature overtaking civilisation. The song builds as it goes, with lots of lines repeating mantra-like. There's not much meaning there, but it sure sounds pretty. Easter Theatre is in a similar vein, while at the same time vying for the honor of being Andy Partridge's most sexually-charged song (and it's not like there's a dearth of competition in that realm). I love the melodic richness and Colin's backing vocals. Greenman ups the ante with a 40-piece orchestra and a hypnotic Middle Eastern sound. The themes of nature and sex rear up once again, combining into a vaguely menacing amalgam ("Please do bend down for the one called the Greenman / He wants to make you his bride").

Harvest Festival rounds out the thematic suite with a nostalgic remembrance of the yearly celebration of the crops coming in. Andy fondly recalls the festival and "that longing look" he received from a young lady he fancied. But this soon turns to regret, as he recounts how she left town and married someone else.

Speaking of that, on Apple Venus at least, things get more interesting when Andy turns to the topic of romance. Two of the album's best songs couldn't be further apart in their views on the subject. The sprightly I'd Like That is as joyous a love song as you might ask for. The thing you gotta love about Partridge's lyrics is how he constantly sends you to either a dictionary or Google. In this case, he compares his love to that of Hector and Helen of Troy, Albert and Victoria, and Nelson and Hamilton (that latter two couples serving as examples of that Brit-centricity I mentioned earlier). On the other side of the coin is the positively scathing divorce song Your Dictionary. Witness the opening verse:

"H-A-T-E
Is that how you spell love in your dictionary?
K-I-C-K
Pronounced as kind
F-U-C-K
Is that how you spell friend in your dictionary
Black on black
A guidebook for the blind"

The song goes on like that, and Andy upbraids not only his ex-wife, but himself for being too passive while things went wrong. The lush I Can't Own Her takes a more regretful tack on the same theme, but to lesser effect. Andy's continued Beach Boys fixation is in full effect here.

While on the subject of lesser effect, the quieter moments on Apple Venus are not its highlights. Knights In Shinng Karma is delicate and pretty, two adjectives belied by its punny title. But it doesn't have much to say. Closer The Last Balloon doesn't suffer from a lack of lyrical ambition (it's about death and the afterlife), but it fails to make a strong musical impression.

Bassist and second songwriter Colin Moulding was responsible for some of XTC greatest moments, but he's clearly reached his songwriting twilight on Apple Venus. It seems the 7 year layoff kind of took the rock star drive away (it was never that strong; afterall, this is the man who wrote about the alienation of being in a band on Go 2). So his two songs here are minor affairs. Frivilous Tonight, all about a night out at the pub with mates, sounds like it could come from a stage show. And Fruit Nut is about being a gardener. I kid you not. And unlike Partridge's tunes, there are no sex metaphors, just the story of a man who likes to kill time outside in the dirt.

I must admit, and it's probably somewhat apparent already: Time has diminished my ardor for Apple Venus, Volume 1. Though I still feel it belongs somewhere in the first tier of the band's output (just under Black Sea, Skylarking, Oranges and Lemons, and Nonsuch), it's not anywhere near my favorite XTC album.

I think part of the blame for that falls on something that has nothing to do with the music itself. Mainly, that what felt at the time like a rebirth turned out to be a goodbye. As I wrote in my review of Apple Venus' second half, Wasp Star, we should have known. Guitarist Dave Gregory quit the band in the middle of making Apple Venus. Colin had lost his swagger and would quit not longafter Wasp Star was recorded, effectively ending the group. It's hard, listening now, to not think about it.

Nevertheless, Apple Venus, Volume 1 will always hold the title of the album I looked forward to more than any other. That is, until Colin, Dave, and Andy reunite and make a new one.

Grade: B
Fave Song: I'd Like That

Fun Fact: XTC's previous two albums had titles that had come from the lyrics of a song on the album previous to that ("oranges and lemons" is a lyric in Skylarking's Ballet for a Rainy Day; the word "nonsuch" appears Oranges and Lemons' Chalkhills and Children). Though the band claimed - somewhat unbelievably - that this was purely coincidental, they decided to do it on purpose this time around. So the words "apple Venus" come from the song Then She Appeared on Nonsuch.

2010: 8 Albums I'm Glad I Bought

2010-12-03T15:49:00.008-06:00

Used to be I spent the better part of November and December laboring over a top 10 list of my favorite CDs of that year. It was a sacred process to me, enduring countless revisions and agonizations.

Last year I downshifted to an unranked list of "Albums I'm Glad I Bought." It felt right, given my diminished music obsession. So that's what I'm doing again. As I said last year, this doesn't mean I regret buying the other 24 albums I bought this year (well, in the case of Motion City Soundtrack and Weezer it does), but with my focus continuing to fall more on singles than albums, the CDs that stand out are the ones with at least 5 killer songs.

UPDATE (February 2011): Upon further listening I've added two more albums into the mix. Welcome, Kings of Leon and Old 97's!

Here're this year's faves:

Arcade Fire: The Suburbs

Check Out: Modern Man, City With No Children, Half Light II (No Celebration), Deep Blue, We Used to Wait, Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)

Ben Folds and Nick Hornby: Lonely Avenue

Check Out: Levi Johnston's Blues, Claire's 9th, From Above, Password, Belinda

Jimmy Eat World: Invented

Check out: Heart Is Hard to Find, My Best Theory, Movielike, Coffee and Cigarettes, Invented


Kings of Leon: Come Around Sundown Check Out: Radioactive, Pyro, Back Down South, Beach Side, Pony Up, Pickup Truck

Jeremy Messersmith: The Reluctant Graveyard

Check out: Dillinger Eyes, Lazy Bones, Violet!, Knots, Tomorrow

Old 97's: The Grand Theatre, Volume One
Check Out: The Grand Theatre, Every Night Is Friday Night (Without You), The Magician, Let the Whiskey Take the Reins, Champaign Illinois

Ra Ra Riot: The Orchard

Check out: Boy, Too Dramatic, Foolish, Shadowcasting, Do You Remember

Vampire Weekend: Contra

Check out: Horchata, White Sky, Holiday, Run, Giving Up the Gun, Diplomat's Son

2010 Compilation

2010-11-22T15:49:00.002-06:00

Every year I make a mix of some of my favorite songs. Here's 2010:

1) Arcade Fire - We Used to Wait
2) The Bird and the Bee - Heard it on the Radio
3) Ra Ra Riot - Do You Remember
4) Jeremy Messersmith - Lazy Bones
5) Belle and Sebastian - I'm Not Living in the Real World
6) Field Music - Them That Do Nothing
7) Stars - Fixed
8) Robbie Williams - Heart and I
9) Jimmy Eat World - Heart is Hard to Find
10) Broken Bells - The High Road
11) The Roots - Right On
12) Vampire Weekend - Giving Up the Gun
13) Cloud Cult - You Were Born

Rock Solid: Prince

2010-09-21T03:49:00.003-05:00

"If you only own one album by Prince it's gotta be [insert masterpiece here]."

Welcome to Rock Solid, where we fill in the blank. Our goal is to pseudo-scientifically determine the best, the beloved, the most classic album in an artist's catalog.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources. The All Music Guide provides the professional critical point-of-view and Amazon.com offers the fan perspective (because most people who choose to review albums on Amazon are adoring fans of the artist in question). The album with the highest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the best.

The declared winner will be subjected to the Thriller Test (do I need to explain the name?), a set of 4 criteria an album should meet to be considered a masterpiece. Those are 1) at least 3 hits, 2) great album tracks that sh/could have been hits, 3) no filler, and 4) memorable cover art.

An artist's entire body of work is eligible, with one exception: No compilations (i.e. greatest hits). In each case, I'll also share my personal favorite album by the artist in question, as if you care.

* * *

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get through this thing called Rock Solid.

Prince Rogers Nelson has four albums that fans and critics have singled out as the Cream of his crop (sha-boogie-bop). Statistically, they're tied, each receiving perfect ratings from the critics at the All Music Guide and the fan reviewers at Amazon.com. This is where we have to start splitting hairs, looking at the percentage of 5-star reviews on Amazon. Dirty Mind (1980) has 78%. 1999 (1983) has 83%. Sign 'O' the Times (1987) has 85%. And Purple Rain (1984) has 86%. Thus we declare our winner by one measly percentage point. That's as close as it has gotten thus far, folks.

Purple Rain was the companion album to the film of the same name, and to put it mildly, was a wild success. It spent 24 weeks at #1 on the Billboard album charts (that's almost half a year!) and has sold over 13 million copies to date. It made Prince a household name, and is single-handedly responsible for the "Parental Advisory: Explicit Content" stickers that made it so easy for youths to find their new favorite albums and artists (the story goes that Tipper and Al Gore bought the Purple Rain album for their children as a Christmas present, were subsequently scandalized and outraged by the song Darling Nikki, and created the Parents' Music Resource Center, thus the stickers).

Besides being a commercial success, the album was hailed as an artistic achievement too, with Prince and the Revolution hitting on a stirring blend of musical styles. All Music Guide king Stephen Thomas Erlewine hails the unconventional and eclectic nature of the album's songs, calling Purple Rain "a stunning statement of purpose that remains one of the most exciting rock & roll albums ever recorded."

Bold words, but they pale in the face of the enthused Amazon.com reviewers. Tall Paul (not me, I'm only slightly above average height) says, "This is by far the greatest album he ever released." John Smore remarks (in Prince-speak nonetheless): "Nothin' more 2 say. Purple Rain is the album every artist should dream 2 record, it's necessary in every house, like the Bible." Amneziak believes that the album is "one of the most highly respected soundtracks in the history of our generation." And Elizabeth Johnson opines: "Fast service. Like new CD. Plays like new."

The Amazon.com reviews also contain an inordinate number of comparisons to Michael Jackson's Thriller, mostly because the two albums were dominating airwaves at the same time and they were both by crossover black artists. Even so, this shows Purple Rain's rarified company. But don't take my word for it. Jay West declares: "The record sells [sic] may say that the biggest seller of the 80s was Thriller but for me the real be all, end all of the 1980s music, for rock, funk, dance, and tender ballards [sic] will always be Purple Rain." I, too, love tender ballards. JGC adds, "the differences between Michael and Prince were very subtle; almost like the differences between The Addams Family and The Munsters." I have nothing to add.

But it's not all rosy. A few unenlightened souls decided to praise the album while slagging off the film. Take Elvis Costello's Weiner for example. He states: "Of course, the movie is really stupid but we all know that." This is, of course, crazy talk. The movie is awesome.

A bigger problem is how many reviewers love Purple Rain but still don't believe it's Prince's greatest achievement. Costly Sunglasses starts off the parade: "Purple Rain is a timeless masterpiece. And it's not even his best album." However, he or she declines to offer an alternative. Others were more specific. Finalanu thinks Dirty Mind is better. Reviewers such as Ronald Washington and Movie Buff give the nod to Sign 'O' the Times. And Essence UK thinks Dirty Mind, 1999, Sign, AND Emancipation are all superior. Emancipation? Really? Doctor Mindbender restores some sanity when he writes, "Many people will point to Sign 'O' the Times or 1999 as Prince's best effort, but neither of these albums boast a collection of songs that cling together so organically, or pulse with so much energy."

I have to agree. 1999 has some Delirous highs, but a lot of filler as well. Sign 'O' the Times is probably Purple Rain's most worthy competitor, but also has its lesser moments, especially on the first disc (the second, from U Got the Look through Adore, is unassailable). Neither has the sheer consistency of Purple Rain. The fact that that Prince wrote the songs that the Time (Jungle Love and The Bird) and Appolonia 6 (Sex Shooter) perform in the film, and that the b-sides from this period (God, Erotic City) were excellent, are further evidence that 1984 was his best musical year.

And then there's the Purple Rain album itself. Just for kicks, let's put it through the Thriller test.

1) At least 3 hits
Done and done: Let's Go Crazy, When Doves Cry, I Would Die 4 U, and the title track. All were top 10 hits in the U.S., two number ones and Purple Rain a number two. Pass

2) Shoulda been hits
The buoyant Take Me With U only made it to #25, but could have gone higher had it not been the fifth single released. Baby I'm a Star would have been a highlight and a single on any other Prince album. Pass

3) No filler
None. The three remaining songs may not have been single material, but they were essential album tracks. Darling Nikki details a weird, dirty one night stand (in the film Prince uses the song to make Apollonia jealous, and it works). Computer Blue is just as strange, especially the "is the water warm" intro, but all is forgiven with the extended, beautifully lyrical guitar solo that makes up the song's second half. And The Beautiful Ones is downright amazing, taking an R & B quiet storm to a whole different level. It's also the soundtrack to the film's essential moment between Apollonia, Morris Day, and the Kid. The latter is up on stage at First Avenue performing the song with the former two in attendance. At the song's apex he gets direct: "What's it gonna be, baby / Do u want him? (points to Morris) / Or do u want me? (points to self) / 'Cause I want u! (points at Apollonia)" and then proceeds to screech the word baby over and over while writhing on the stage. It's my favorite part of the film by far. Pass.

4) Classic cover art

Yes, sir. A smoky alley, the purple motorcycle, Apollonia in the shadowy doorway, the paisley borders. What's not to like? Throw in the fact that the LP came with the awesome poster you see on the right, and we're really in business. Pass.

So there it is, a more solid Rock Solid you aren't likely to find.

However, I will admit that as much as I love Purple Rain, it's not my favorite Prince effort. That title goes to 1996's The Gold Experience. Why? In 12 catchy tunes it sums up Prince's odd appeal, covering everything from civil rights (We March), petty grudges (Billy Jack Bitch), feminism (P Control), sex (Shhh), gangsta love (Shy), Al Green (The Most Beautiful Girl in the World), and being reincarnated as a water-bound mammal (Dolphin). Check it out sometime.

Author's Note: This is album review #275.

274. XTC: Nonsuch (1992)

2010-09-05T03:49:00.013-05:00

Nonsuch is the 10th XTC album, but it was the 3rd for me, purchased at a Circuit City for $5.99 in the infancy of my XTC fandom.

At the time, I didn't know much about the band other than that I wanted more of their music. I already owned Oranges and Lemons and Waxworks (a collection of early singles), and wasn't sure where to go next. I bought Nonsuch because I thought it was a latter-day "best of" compilation.

Why did I think that? Well, the sheer number of songs (17!) was one factor, but mostly it was the back cover. Each track was given a box and an illustration, lending it an air of individual importance. Plus, the album title seemed like a insouciant nod to the thrown-together nature of hits collections.

And though a listen and a look at the interior liner notes proved me wrong, I'd still say I wasn't too far off. Afterall, Nonsuch does contain all of XTC's major themes: the peaks and valleys of romance, war, human nature, and societal ills. Musically it falls somewhere between the pop sheen of Oranges and Lemons, the melody of Skylarking, and the earthiness of earlier albums such as English Settlement and Mummer. In fact, I'd say there's no better album to summarize who XTC were from 1982 on. So in that spirit, it is a latter-day "best of."

The album had a fractious creation. Lead songwriter and singer Andy Partridge clashed with veteran producer Gus Dudgeon (he of Elton John-producing fame) on several occasions. But you'd never know that from the harmonious result. I use the adjective "harmonious" explicitly because Nonsuch is the most Beach Boy-ish album XTC ever made, and that includes the Dukes of Stratosphear albums and Apple Venus Vol.1.

Witness: Humble Daisy (a love song with evocative imagery), The Disappointed (an elegant break-up tune), Then She Appeared (another love song, full of cultural and historical references such as Edward Lear, Marie Celeste, and Fox Talbots gel), and Wrapped in Grey (an anti-cynicism anthem that's easily one of the top 5 most beautiful XTC tracks) all feature soaring melodies and generous harmonies, either overtly or subtly nodding to Brian Wilson and company.

All four of those songs were by Andy Partridge, who was on quite a hot streak. His highlights on Nonsuch are many. Opener The Ballad of Peter Pumpkinhead (remade later by Crash Test Dummies for the Dumb and Dumber soundtrack) is about a secular savior who unites the people beyond church and commercialism with a message of love and ultimately pays for it with his life (fittingly, his crucifixion plays out on live TV nonetheless). It's probably what would happen if Jesus came along today. The catchy Dear Madam Barnum features one of Andy's best extended metaphors, casting a cuckolded husband as a clown that quits from the circus: "Children are laughing as I fall to the floor / My heart's torn and broken / And they just scream for more / If I'm not the sole fool who pulls his trousers down / Then dear Madam Barnum, I resign as clown." Closer Books are Burning is simultaneously a scathing condemnation of those who would burn literature containing ideas they disagree with (Gainesville , Florida, we're looking at you here) and a love letter to the printed word (Andy describes books as "a wisdom hotline from the dead back to the living" and "the human right to let your soul fly free and naked"). Listen for the dueling guitar solos at the end to compare Andy and guitarist Dave Gregory's respective playing styles.

A step down in quality, but still pretty great are Holly Up On Poppy (an sweet-but-not-saccharine ode to Andy's daughter Holly, who's now a musician in her own right), Crocodile (a countryish exploration of jealousy), Omnibus (a light-hearted admonishment to Gregory to take advantage of being an eligible bachelor: ""Don't waste time, go on and taste them all / Why don't you fill your plate?"), and The Ugly Underneath (a spiritual companion to Billy Joel's The Stranger).

Rook is not a song I especially love, but it is one I admire. A dirge with a Bachrachian arrangement, it features mysterious lyrics about death, ending with a plea: "If I die and I find that I had a soul inside/Promise me that you'll take it up on its final ride." Maybe some regrets about Dear God there?

By my rekoning, Andy's only misstep on the album is That Wave, and even it has it's charms. The distorted vocals on the "chorus" are annoying, but I like the "I was in heaven / Address cloud 11" bit. And it gets points for containing the term "permanent orgasm", which would be a great band name.

Bassist and second songwriter Colin Moulding doesn't do too poorly for himself either. My Bird Performs finds the usually-dour Colin in a rare self-satisified state of mind. Though I believe the title phrase is meant to be taken literally, one can't help but notice that "bird" is British slang for "girl." So there's a little bit of a Andy-worthy double entendre here.

The Smartest Monkeys is probably the weakest song of Colin's four. The melody and prog pop production are great, but the lyrics fall short under scrutiny. I like the basic idea that, despite what we'd like to think, human beings haven't really come all that far from our primate ancestors. My main problem is that Colin couches our lack of progress in the issue of homelessness. I think he should have gone bigger than that. He does just that on his third song, War Dance, which concerns the frightening lead-up to war and the accompanying spike in ham-fisted patriotism and jingoism. Sound familiar? He was writing about Britain's involvement in the Gulf War, but it's a universally applicable song. To me, it's one of Colin's all-time best.

Finally, there's Bungalow, an oddly-affecting, slow-building track about a dream home by the sea.

All-in-all, Nonsuch is a magnificent achievement, and the culmination of who XTC were as a trio (not to undermine the fine drumming contributions from Dave Mattacks). It's not only my favorite XTC album, but one of my favorite albums ever.

Grade: A+

Stuck, or Obsession Cessastion

2010-08-29T03:49:00.039-05:00

You may have noticed that things have slowed down around here. I had the summer off from teaching, and I spent it with my 7 month-old son. I gave myself permission to make this blog less of a priority. Well, "less of a priority" is putting it lightly. Initially, I considered an abrupt retirement. But then I reconsidered. Maybe the proximity to Brett Favre is causing this.

If you're a long time reader, this is probably not all that surprising to you. Since 2007, it has become an annual ritual for me to soul-search about my waning interest in music. First I blamed an inability to express myself and a lack of quality music. Then in 2008 I cited new technology and the death of the album. Last year I wrote about how my changing life priorities hindered my ability to seek out new music.

I've done a lot of thinking about it this summer and in truth I believe this was all just dancing around the issue, a slow realization of something I didn't want to admit to myself: My music obsession has gone away.

Sure, I still have an interest in music - I imagine I always will - but that interest is clearly not at the very intense level it once was. The old stuff still thrills, but in the last four years, new CDs/songs have rarely moved me in the way I'm used to. I thought for awhile this was just a funk, a phase. But four years of something is a pattern, not an exception.

So what happened? Was it really all of those factors I laid blame upon? Well, yes. But they can be enveloped into a larger, more theoretical, explanation.

That explanation starts in Daniel Levitin's book This Is Your Brain on Music. Levitin is both a scientist and a musician, and his book looks at the latter through the lens of the former. It's a bit of a dry and dense read if, like me, you are neither a scientist or musician, but it does contain several enlightening bits of information. The part I'm concerned with is as follows:

Through research, Levitin and others have found that music has a profound affect on the amygdala, the part of the brain that that processes memory and emotional reactions. In adolescence, an emotionally-raw time, the brain is busy making crazy amounts of connections. So it follows that music first experienced during adolescence is especially fondly-remembered. In fact, a study of advanced Alzheimer's patients found that they could still remember songs from when they were fourteen.

Since our neural circuits slow down after our teenage years, so do our connections. And this leads Levitin to make the following statement: "There doesn't seem to be a cutoff point for acquiring new tastes in music, but most people have formed their tastes by the age of 18 or 20."

I've known this anecdotally for years. We all know people whose musical tastes seem irrevocably stuck in a certain era, our parents, our grandparents, guys at the fair wearing Ratt t-shirts. I used to think this was because these people had simply stopped trying, that they wrote off new music as the fancy of youth. Often this "state of stuck" is accompanied by a disdain of the new and popular. Rather than just admit they're out of touch, these old fogeys dismiss the new sounds as having less artistic merit than their most beloved songs. We've seen this play out consistently in every new generation and sub-generation: Jazz isn't real music, rock and roll isn't real music, disco isn't real music, punk isn't real music, new wave isn't real music, hip hop isn't real music, etc. And consistently we've seen that the latest tunes that are driving the kids wild mean/will mean just as much to them as the music of our youth meant/means to us. The songs on the top 40 will eventually be the songs on the classic rock and oldies stations.

I once thought that being aware of this would be enough to help me avoid becoming stuck in my tastes. I thought I could be an exception out of sheer willpower. I thought that because music meant so much to me, I wouldn't fall in the trap. And it did work, at least a little bit. I had a longer golden age than many, with it lasting well into my 20s. But now that my golden age has ended, I'm more inclined to believe in a biological explanation.

Obviously we're still able to make emotional connections beyond our teenage years. We fall in love, we have children, etc. Likewise, certain bands and songs do still find their way to my heart, and I'm sure they'll continue to do so. But I'm ready to accept that new songs are unlikely to give me that overwhelming rush of memory and emotion that I get from the best songs of my golden age. And lately I've that the new artists and songs I like best are ones that remind me of older artists I like. I'm now convinced this is how rock critics keep up their careers going. They write about how established artists just aren't as good as they used to be or about how this new band sounds a lot like this old band.

I'll pause to let that marinate a little bit.

There are other, smaller, possibly dismissable factors in my music quagmire. First is the Hornby Effect, which says, basically, that once I became romantically happy (I met my wife in 2006), my ability to truly identify with music (the best of which is about romantic discord) was lost. Or a more recent thought centers on how analysis of a work of art can intensify our appreciation of it, but at the same time distance us emotionally from it. It's destruction by deconstruction. Too often since I started this blog I've approached an album already starting to write a review of it in my head, rather than experiencing the music viscerally in the moment.

You'll notice the key in all three explanations is the emotion and personal connection. When I started 3 Minutes, 49 Seconds it was to share my personal relationship with music through writing. When I read back over old reviews, the ones I like the best are the ones where I opened myself up, where that personal relationship is clearly a part of the review.

I feel like I've moved away from that in recent years, at least when it comes to writing about new music. I don't tend to feel a strong connection to a lot of new music, so I don't tend to write about it. So I've dealt with this in sneaky ways. I focused on back catalogs of beloved artists (The Beatles, The Monkees, "Weird Al", XTC). And I moved toward analytical, research-based entries (the Rock Bottom and Rock Solid series) that required no personal connection at all.

And I've had fun with those, but I don't feel I can continue on that path indefinitely. Writing about music was always meant to be a reflection and manifestation of my obsession. Using writing to keep the obsession on life support, as I have in recent years, is not something I'm very interested in.

So does this mean the end of 3 Minutes, 49 Seconds? Maybe, but not quite yet. I've still got more work to do. I have 11 more Rock Solids to write, 2 more XTC album reviews, and a new feature called Versus, for which I have 5 ideas). At my current pace, that's enough to keep me going well into 2011. But from there? I don't know what that future holds.

But I know this: Obsessions are cyclical. I was an avid comic book collector from age 12 to 22 (though the last four years I basically did it out of habit; do you see a pattern?). I unceremoniously stopped collecting in 2000, only to start up again 5 years later. Now I'm back in the thick of it, visiting the comic shop every week to keep up with the adventures of the Flash and Fantastic Four.

So mark your calendars for 2015, I guess.

Rock Solid: Bruce Springsteen

2010-08-21T03:49:00.000-05:00

"If you only own one album by Bruce Springsteen it's gotta be [insert masterpiece here]."

Welcome to Rock Solid, where we fill in the blank. Our goal is to pseudo-scientifically determine the best, the beloved, the most classic album in an artist's catalog.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources. The All Music Guide provides the professional critical point-of-view and Amazon.com offers the fan perspective (because most people who choose to review albums on Amazon are adoring fans of the artist in question). The album with the highest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the best.

An artist's entire body of work is eligible, with one exception: No compilations (i.e. greatest hits). In each case, I'll also share my personal favorite album by the artist in question, as if you care.

* * *

Here are the top 8 Bruce Springsteen albums according to fan and critical acclaim:

8. Tunnel of Love (1987)
7. The River (1980)
6. Greetings from Asbury Park (1973)
5. Born in the U.S.A. (1984)
4. Nebraska (1982)
3. Darkness on the Edge of Town (1978)
2. The Wild, the Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle (1973)
1. Born to Run (1975)

Only the top two received perfect ratings from both the All Music Guide and Amazon.com reviewers, and Born to Run unsurprisingly took the top spot with the most 5 star ratings on Amazon. But that's not the real story to me. Nor is it the surprisingly high ranking for The Wild, the Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle. The real story is that these top 8 albums are also the Boss' first 8 albums. None of his work since 1987 cracked the list. Consider that for a moment.

Now here's where we could have a very interesting and lively discussion about career trajectory and the fact that nearly every established, successful pop artist's career follows a predictable path in terms of critical (and to a certain degree public) perception. It goes something like this: 1) Artist spends a couple of singles, EPs, or even albums working out their sound, 2) Artist puts it all together, beginning a golden period, 3) The first album to truly disappoint arrives, ending the golden period, and 4) Every subsequent album is a (mostly or partially) unsuccessful attempt to recapture the golden period.

Now there are a lot of subtle variations to this, but it basically holds true for any artist you want to slot in. The big question is: Why? Is it just another manifestation of our build-them-up break-them-down culture of celebrity? Probably. But is it also that rock is an inherently ageist medium? For all the honoring of rock's elders, it is the rare older musician who's beloved for more than nostalgic reasons, who is still regarded as artistically vital. Is this fair in any way? Probably not.

In the case of Springsteen, the 1992 double shot of Lucky Town and Human Touch signaled his first disappointing moments (Tunnel of Love was a commercial but not artistic disappointment, only because it followed the ridiculously successful Born in the U.S.A.; more on that later). He's never truly pleased the critics since. Even the praise for his "comeback", 2002's The Rising, was couched in the fact that he was writing new songs that sounded like his old ones.

But I digress. Let's move on and revel in the golden period, the height of which is the album that made the Boss the Boss. William Ruhlman of the All Music Guide writes in his 5 star review: "Born to Run was an intentional masterpiece. It declared its own greatness with songs and a sound that lived up to Springsteen's promise, and though some thought it took itself too seriously, many found that exalting." This latter statement brings up an important point. To whit, Chuck Klosterman took some of the air out of the the Boss' poetic aspirations in an essay in his book Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs:

"But what nobody seemed to notice is that this song [Born to Run] has some of the most ridiculous lyrics ever recorded. Half the time, Springsteen writes like someone typing a PG-13 letter for Penthouse Forum: The lines "Just wrap your legs 'round these velvet rims / And strap your hands 'cross my engines" are as funny as anything Tenacious D ever recorded, except Bruce is trying to be deep."

So the point here is that liking Bruce, and Born to Run specifically, requires a suspension of cynicism. You have to be willing to give yourself over to the dramatic grandiosity of it all. The reviewers on Amazon.com certainly are, indulging in purple prose that Bruce himself would be proud of.

M.J. Heilbron Jr. writes: "The cinematic sweep, from Thunder Road to Jungleland, makes you feel like you're watching a movie while listening. The epic nature and true storylines makes you feel like you're reading a classic novel. I ask you, what album have you ever listened to, that elicits a sensation of music, film and literature simultaneously? It's breathtaking." Thomas Emanual follows that train of thought when he says, "The Great American Novel is the book, better than any other, that perfectly embodies the essence of America and American life - its hardship, its joy, its defeat, its triumph. You can think of Born to Run then as the Great American Album." And J.H. Minde adds, "It's hard...to adequately measure the impact this album had. The changes it wrought in the young people who first heard it were very nearly on the cellular level (that's biology, not telephony, you 21st century yahoos!)." Finally, an anonymous contributor tells us that, "The album Born to Run is brimming with bombast and sorrow, celebrating the plight and fortune of man, with a defiance rarely heard."

Other reviewers keep things simpler but no less laudatory. Spanish Johnny declares Born to Run "the most exhilarating, most complex recording of Springsteen's distinguished career." "You can hear rock being reinvented and revisited all at the same time, all in one listen, " says Peter Guglietta. Craig Paul opines, "I can't imagine anyone not owning this recording." And, Bruce (hmmmm...) tells us: "Stated simply, this is the best rock and roll album ever recorded."

Well, is it? In short, no. Let me start by saying that I listened to Born to Run for the first time for this article, and that colors my perception. There are songs (namely the title track and Thunder Road) that I've heard hundreds of times, others that I've heard a handful, and still others that I'd never heard. Thus it's very different listening experience than it was intended to be. Even so, some songs naturally stand out over others.

Of course, there are the hits. Well, technically, the title track is the only one, and even that only made it to #23 on the U.S. chart. It's more of a hit-in-retrospect, to the point that it's been way overplayed. Even so, it's the one Bruce will be remembered for. And if you can resist the ending, where things come to a halt, Bruce counts off, the band rushes in, and "The highway's jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive" then you're a better person than me. The R & B workout Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out was a single, not a hit, but is nonetheless a concert favorite. So we'll throw that in. And opener Thunder Road was neither a single nor a hit, but still is a classic, and made it on to 1995's Greatest Hits.

Other tracks have varying levels of impact. Backstreets builds up a good head of steam, She's the One has a funky core, and album closer Jungleland is an intriguing, evocative epic. However, Night does little to distinguish itself, and Meeting Across the River has an interesting story-song lyrics that are nearly ruined by an overdramatic and dated arrangement (on later albums, like Darkness on the Edge of Town and Nebraska, Bruce would master the art of keeping it simple).

Quibbles aside, and disregarding the fact that Born to Run isn't Springsteen's most successful album (Born in the U.S.A. went 15 times platinum and produced 7! top ten singles), the album is a solid choice for his best. Not only because it made a bold, unified artistic statement, but because it had a magnificent cultural impact. Born to Run made the world sit up and take notice. It made the Boss the Boss. Other Springsteen albums might be as strong or even slightly stronger, but none had the same impact.

My own personal fave is Tunnel of Love, an E Street-free (well, at least as a unified group; various members still contributed) concept album that tackles various aspects of romantic love. And though I could do without ever again hearing the title track in a department store, it's a haunting, beautifully-made record.

Rock Solid: Elvis Costello

2010-08-02T03:49:00.006-05:00

"If you only own one album by Elvis Costello it's gotta be [insert masterpiece here]."

Welcome to Rock Solid, where we fill in the blank. Our goal is to pseudo-scientifically determine the best, the beloved, the most classic album in an artist's catalog.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources. The All Music Guide provides the professional critical point-of-view and Amazon.com offers the fan perspective (because most people who choose to review albums on Amazon are adoring fans of the artist in question). The album with the highest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the best.

The declared winner will be subjected to the Thriller Test (do I need to explain the name?), a set of 4 criteria an album should meet to be considered a masterpiece. Those are 1) at least 3 hits, 2) great album tracks that sh/could have been hits, 3) no filler, and 4) memorable cover art.

An artist's entire body of work is eligible, with one exception: No compilations (i.e. greatest hits). In each case, I'll also share my personal favorite album by the artist in question, as if you care.

* * *

According to the critics and fans, Elvis Costello has four perfect albums. And he made them all in a 5 year span, between 1977 and 1982. Were I Elvis himself I'd be flattered and depressed at the same time. Flattered, of course, to have my work so highly regarded. Depressed because none of the approximately 623 albums I've made since 1982 are anywhere near as loved.

At any rate, the four albums are as follows: Debut My Aim Is True (1977), the follow-up This Year's Model (1978), Armed Forces (1979), and the divorce epic Imperial Bedroom (1982). Each one received a perfect combined rating of 10 from the All Music Guide and fans on Amazon.com.

So how do we determine which is best? Simple math. We look at the percentage of Amazon.com raters giving the albums the full 5 stars. The winner then emerges, with This Year's Model sporting a staggering 96% of reviewers bestowing it with 5 stars.

This Year's Model marked the debut of Elvis' beloved backing band the Attractions (Steve Nieve, Bruce Thomas, and Pete Thomas), who immediately made their value known, especially Nieve, whose organ provides the album's signature sound. The Thomas brothers' rhythm section is no slouch either. The album features the Elvis classics Pump It Up, (I Don't Want To Go To) Chelsea, and Radio, Radio (originally a single-only release, added as a bonus track).

The All Music Guide's Stephen Thomas Erlewine labels the album "reckless, careening, and nervous." But he's a big fan of the chaos, declaring, "Costello and the Attractions never rocked this hard, or this vengefully, ever again."

The fan reviewers on Amazon.com were similarly adoring. M.Packham declares This Year's Model "The Best Costello Has to Offer." Jeremy Young opines: "Who needs Elvis impersonators? The real Elvis is alive on this album, and he has never sounded better." One anonymous reviewer asks, "Has there ever been a better pop album released?" If he meant that rhetorically then the answer is no, but if it's a direct question then the answer is yes. And another nameless, faceless fellow claims, "No less so than Beethoven's Fifth, it states its theme squarely at the start and only builds -- dizzyingly and ecstaticly -- from there."

I could go on and on, but I noticed an interesting trend in some of the reviews. Check out these comments and see if you pick up on the pattern. Amid a passionate love letter to This Year's Model, Itamar Katz says the album is, "Not as tight or melodic as the classic follow-up Armed Forces." G. Moses reveals, "My favourite Costello album still has to be Armed Forces, but this is almost as breathtaking." And Bradley Jacobson recommends that after hearing This Year's Model, you proceed to "what will probably be my favorite Elvis album Armed Forces."

So, um, if three separate reviewers mention the superiority of a different album in the course of praising This Year's Model, doesn't that hurt its Rock Solid case just a little bit? I'd say so. And while This Year's Model's well-crafted consistency is hard to deny (every song is damn good; the only thing I don't like on the whole album is the chorus of Livin' In Paradise which wanders a bit too far into American bar band territory), I'd rank it lower than Armed Forces, mainly because the latter was such an artistic leap. For all of its energy, This Year's Model has a sameness of sound throughout. Armed Forces has a much more open and sophisticated feel; listen to the expansive opener Accidents Will Happen next to The Beat for an example of what I mean. Nieve has traded in his organ for a piano, and Elvis shows some range and subtlety in his singing, instead of spitting out his lyrics like he's trying to get rid of them.

And while the ultimate moral of this Rock Solid is that you really can't go wrong with any Elvis disc released between the years 1977 and 1982 (okay, Almost Blue, a country covers album that's better in theory than actuality, can probably be skipped), none of those 6 great albums is my personal favorite. No, that'd be 1986's King of America. Click on the link for a justification of that pick, plus a prescient discussion of which Elvis albums are the best.

Rock Solid: XTC

2010-07-17T03:49:00.001-05:00

"If you only own one album by XTC it's gotta be [insert masterpiece here]."

Welcome to Rock Solid, where we fill in the blank. Our goal is to pseudo-scientifically determine the best, the beloved, the most classic album in an artist's catalog.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources. The All Music Guide provides the professional critical point-of-view and Amazon.com offers the fan perspective (because most people who choose to review albums on Amazon are adoring fans of the artist in question). The album with the highest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the best.

An artist's entire body of work is eligible, with one exception: No compilations (i.e. greatest hits). In each case, I'll also share my personal favorite album by the artist in question, as if you care.

* * *

If you're an astute reader of 3:49 with some knowledge of the XTC discography, then you'll be able to guess which XTC album has been designated Rock Solid. See, I've been reviewing XTC's albums chronologically, and the last proper XTC album I reviewed was 1984's The Big Express.

So it should come as no surprise that the XTC's Rock Solid is the follow-up, 1986's Skylarking. But how did we get there?

Well, Skylarking is the only XTC album to receive a full combined 10 star rating from the All Music Guide critics and Amazon.com reviewers. There was no other album that truly challenged this supremacy, though it should be noted that five additional albums (Drums and Wires, Black Sea, English Settlement, Nonsuch, and Apple Venus Volume 1) tied for second place, each with 9 stars.

Skylarking, by nearly every account, had a difficult birth. The band fought with each other and with producer Todd Rundgren (famous for his own hits Hello, It's Me and Bang On the Drum All Day, for producing Meat Loaf's Bat Out of Hell, and for playing surrogate father to Liv Tyler). But the results are hard to argue with.

Of Skylarking, critic Stephen Thomas Erlewine wrote, "Each song is a small gem, marrying sweet, catchy melodies to decidedly adult lyrical themes." He also calls the record a "pop masterpiece -- an album that has great ambitions and fulfills them with ease.

Amazon.com reviewers were similarly ecstatic. Check out this sampling of accolades:

Gavin B. "Skylarking is the Holy Grail of lost treasures of 1980s music. I've heard a lot of comparisons to Sgt. Pepper's, but folks, this is better than the Beatles' tour de force."
Christopher Minjoot: "This must be a classic album, otherwise why would I possess five versions of it on CD?"
Beechaka: "My only disappointment with XTC is that I have yet to find another album of theirs that tops Skylarking."
Dandurand: "I can scarcely think of a more perfect album than Skylarking."
Michael Stack: "It's to the '80s what "Pet Sounds" was to the '60s."
Skankersore: "One of the best albums of the 20th Century. I'm not kissing up here."
Neptune: "This truly is one of the finest albums ever put out by a band."
Todd7 (Rundgren, is that you?): "Folks, Skylarking is XTC's high moment--whether you like it or not."
C. Cooper: " I'm really torn between this album and The Big Express--although, there really is no sense in arguing over which XTC album is the best..." (Well, I'm sorry to waste your time, Mr. Cooper.)

It's become a rarity in this feature, but I find little to complain about with this choice. Let's take a closer look at the album. Skylarking is often praised because it feels like a complete listening experience. The thing is, I'm not sure why. There's no recurring theme, recurring characters, or intros and outros, and the songs are quite sonically different. One might say there's a romantic, pastoral feeling to the record, but that's really only present in a handful of songs (Summer's Cauldron, Season Cycle, Grass, Ballet for a Rainy Day, 1000 Umbrellas). So if that doesn't explain the album's brilliance, what does?

Basically, a good batch of songs performed and produced well. It's that simple.

Andy Partridge's contributions are uniformly strong, packed with imagery and melody. Especially notable: That's Really Super, Supergirl, where our narrator has been dumped by his heroine ("And I'm here in your Fortress of Solitude / Don't mean to be rude / But I don't feel super"). It's perhaps the most power-poppy song the band had recorded to that date. The ringing Earn Enough for Us is basically a caffeinated rewrite of Love on a Farmboy's Wages from Mummer, but with the singer serving as a bus driver instead of a farmhand. Another Satellite finds Partridge in prime egotist mode, rejecting a lover because she'd just be another moon clogging up his orbit (However, I'm pretty sure he ended up marrying the girl he wrote this about). And the jazzy would-be spy theme The Man Who Sailed Around His Soul manages to be navel-gazing and extroverted all at once.

Singling out certain songs may have the effect of belittling others, but that's not the intention. Andy's only slightly weak track is the pretty-but-slight Mermaid Smiled, and it's evidence enough that on many U.S. versions of the album that song was swapped out for Dear God, a B-side that unexpectedly (but not surprisingly, in retrospect) caught on at college radio stations.

And what about Dear God? Well, it's brilliant. Of course it can't capture all of an atheist's doubts in one song, but Andy nails one of the main ones: Why would an all-powerful deity allow such awful things to happen to his/her followers? The song is full of choice lines, but this one always gets me: "You're always letting us humans down / The wars you bring / The babes you drown."

Colin Moulding's songwriting re-emergence (after a sub-par Dukes contribution and only two songs on The Big Express) is also a big factor in Skylarking's success. He placed 5 songs on the album, which is the highest number on any XTC album before and since. Grass is sly and sexy, alluding to outdoor escapades, but also having fun with the title term being slang for marijuana ("It would shock you too, the things we used to do on grass."). The Meeting Place is equally libidinous, this time detailing a midday dalliance between factory workers. Big Day finds our narrator giving pragmatic advice to a groom on his wedding day: "Could be heaven / Could be hell in a cell for two" and "There's a lesson to be learnt / Many fingers have been burnt by the touch of gold." Colin apparently wrote it for his son. Optimistic fellow, him.

Moulding's final two songs are also the final two on the album, and they always feel like sort of a let-down to me. I think that's intentional, as the sun begins to set and the album closes up shop. Dying is a bracing, (mostly) minimalist number wherein Colin mourns the passing of an elderly neighbor and at the same time considers his own ultimate fate. Sacrificial Bonfire continues the melancholy mood, at least musically, while the lyrics speak of banishing evil, which makes for an odd mix. Taken on their own, they're clear weak-links, but in the context of the album, they serve their purpose well.

So, in case it's not clear: Skylarking is a very deserving Rock Solid. It's not my favorite XTC album, however. That'd be Nonsuch, and I'll tell you why next time.

Grade: A
Fave Song: That's Really Super, Supergirl

Author's Note: This is album review #273.

272. The Dukes of Stratosphear: Chips from the Chocolate Fireball (1987)

2010-06-28T15:49:00.012-05:00

In my introduction to this review-every-XTC album project, I wrote about how The Dukes of Stratosphear were responsible for my XTC fandom, even before I ever heard a note of their music. It was the idea that piqued my interest and set me on the path to obsession.

That's worth a lot, but looking at the Dukes now, I find I enjoy them for what they are, a minor sidetrack in XTC's musical career. They revel in the pure joy of music-making, but only rarely rise above homage.

The Dukes appeared in two phases, first in 1985, post-Big Express, on the 25 O'Clock EP, then again in 1987, after Skylarking, on the full length Psonic Psunspot. The two albums were subsequently packaged together as the compilation you see on the right, Chips from the Chocolate Fireball. Here I'll be sharing my thoughts on all things Dukes, along with some interesting historical tidbits dug mostly out of Neville Farmer's 1998 book XTC: Song Stories.

The Dukes of Stratosphear basically came from three places: 1) Andy Partridge's fondness for sixties psychedelic garage rock, 2) guitarist Dave Gregory's hobby of recreating old records, and 3) a failed project with singer Mary Margaret O'Hara wherein Andy would write songs and John Leckie would produce. As the story goes, once the project went south, Andy convinced Virgin Records to give him 5000 pounds, took Leckie (who had helmed the band's first two albums White Music and Go 2), and the Dukes were born.

Though the effort to conceal their identities was never more than half-hearted, the band did take on pseudonyms. Andy became Sir John Johns (a nod to the DC super-hero Martian Manhunter, whose Martain name was J'onn J'onzz), Colin was The Red Curtain, Dave was billed as Lord Cornelius Plum, and his brother Ian, who played drums, took the clever name E.I.E.I. Owen. Producer Leckie did his work as Swami Anand Nagara.

All of the Dukes songs are originals, but most have spiritual guidance from a notable sixties band or song. I'll (mostly) spare the song-by-song breakdown and let you suss them out on your own, but trust when I tell you that the styles of Pink Floyd's Syd Barrett, The Beatles, The Byrds, The Kinks, The Electric Prunes, The Hollies, and The Beach Boys are all well-represented. The band used vintage equipment, and Leckie's production work was genius. In fact, it boosted his reputation quite a bit, and led too him producing some of the most beloved British records of all time (Elastica's first album, The Stone Roses' debut, Radiohead's The Bends).

25 O'Clock features 6 songs, the best of which are the doomy, nonsensical title track, the lusty My Love Explodes, and the bouncy The Mole from the Ministry. Your Gold Dress and Bike Ride to the Moon are enjoyable but a step down in quality. All 5 of those were Andy compositions. Colin's offering, What In the World??..., is the worst thing on the EP. It's about "shocking" future events (marijuana is used to make tea, women fight wars while men stay home) and is a clear sore thumb. To be fair, it wasn't written strictly as a '60s pastiche; it was a leftover given a production makeover and shoehorned in.

From a songwriting standpoint 25 O'Clock is definitely the lesser of the two Dukes releases. It's sort of like a warm-up for the real show. Grade: C+ Fave Song: My Love Explodes

Psonic Psunspot, a sequel released after the successful XTC release Skylarking (review forthcoming), is where the Dukes really put it together, though Colin's contributions are still the weak spot, with one very notable exception. Opener Vanishing Girl is a burst of suspended chord fresh air. The lounge act chorus of The Affiliated and the carnivalesque Shiny Cage are lackluster.

Andy's work, however, is strong throughout, from the gender-confused Have You Seen Jackie? to the joyous You're My Drug to the druggy Collideascope. But the two real standouts are Brainiac's Daughter (a piano-driven piece about the irresistible offspring of a Superman villain; the character doesn't exist in the comics, but should) and Pale and Precious, a spot-on Beach Boys tribute that manages not to be derivative (a feat much much harder than it sounds, and Andy did again - and better - with Chalkhills and Children on Oranges and Lemons).

Add in the enchanting book-on-tape children's story bits between songs and you have a great product overall. Grade: B+ Fave Songs: Brainiac's Daughter / Vanishing Girl

The Dukes of Stratosphear were always an exercise in escapism and controlled lunacy, and ultimately their legacy is one of style over substance. Unlike the vast majority of Andy and Colin's other songs, they're not really about anything, and ultimately they can't be taken too seriously. However, they sound fantastic. They'll always hold a special, if not particularly large, place in this XTC fan's heart.

Rock Solid: Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

2010-06-19T03:49:00.002-05:00

"If you only own one album by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers it's gotta be [insert masterpiece here]."

Welcome to Rock Solid, where we fill in the blank. Our goal is to pseudo-scientifically determine the best, the beloved, the most classic album in an artist's catalog.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources. The All Music Guide provides the professional critical point-of-view and Amazon.com offers the fan perspective (because most people who choose to review albums on Amazon are adoring fans of the artist in question). The album with the highest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the best.

The declared winner will be subjected to the Thriller Test (do I need to explain the name?), a set of 4 criteria an album should meet to be considered a masterpiece. Those are 1) at least 3 hits, 2) great album tracks that sh/could have been hits, 3) no filler, and 4) memorable cover art.

An artist's entire body of work is eligible, with one exception: No compilations (i.e. greatest hits). In each case, I'll also share my personal favorite album by the artist in question, as if you care.

* * *

First, let's all agree that Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers are a crack singles band. From American Girl in 1977 to Mary Jane's Last Dance in 1993, they gave us an amazing string of pop classics, songs that you still hear regularly on the radio, and will for as long as radio exists. Unfortunately, the label "singles band" often means that your albums weren't all that remarkable outside of your hits. Interestingly, Petty and the boys morphed into album artists with 1994's Wildflowers, and haven't looked back, for better (Echo) or worse (The Last DJ), producing strong records without standout singles.

These are the two extremes of modern music-making, though the very best albums manage to marry the two. It's rare for an artist to not hit on the balance at least once in his career, even accidentally, and yet it seems that's the case with Petty. Thus, his Rock Solid is a chance to see which one the critics and fans value more: Hit singles or consistent albums.

Probably not surprisingly, it's hit singles. The All Music Guide gives a 5 star rating to only one Petty album, and that's 1979's hit-laden Damn the Torpedoes. Amazon.com reviewers backed that up with a 5 star average. It's his only album to score so high, but the two closest challengers - '81's Hard Promises and '89's Full Moon Fever - are also products of Petty's radio days.

Fully aware that he can't just praise the singles and remain a member of the Rock Critic Union, good old Stephen Thomas Erlewine of the All Music Guide calls the music on Damn the Torpedoes "modern yet timeless" and concludes that it's "one of the great records of the album rock era."

The fans on Amazon.com are less assuming, if also less coherent. Aussie Petty Fan states, "As the album reads almost like a Greatest Hits collection, it is by far the album to get if you enjoyed the Greatest Hits because you don't get better TPATHB as this, some albums come close, none are poor, yet none better this here one." Nestor Alfredo Balbuena writes (translated from Spanish with the help of BabelFish): "The truth is that all the album I pleasure to me. Each sound was so well put, the battery sounded like the Gods, the adjustments, the guitar, in aim. I hit to me."

And The Footpath Cowboy adds, "The fact that Petty, like most rockers of his generation, advocates sanctions against Indonesia in retaliation for that country's trumped-up drug-smuggling conviction of a young Australian tourist makes this an essential purchase for both your ears AND your conscience." Though why that makes Damn the Torpedoes an "essential" purchase over any other Petty album or any album by any other "rocker of his generation" I'm not quite sure.

Non sequitur reviews aside, Aussie Petty Fan's insistence that Damn the Torpedoes is the first place to start after the 1993 Greatest Hits (or 2000's Anthology) compilation is a common theme throughout the Amazon.com write-ups. Though it's a praiseful assertion it's also an admission that, when it comes to Petty and the Heartbreakers, the hits are the main thing.

Overall, Damn the Torpedoes is not a bad choice for Rock Solid considering the circumstances, but it's important to remember that it's all relative to the career of the artist in question. The album may be one of Petty's best, but it's no masterpiece. In fact, a quick run through the Thriller Test finds it passing on only 2 of the 4 counts. It's got the singles, for sure. Four songs from the album made it on to the Greatest Hits, and serve as bonafide Petty classics. Those are Refugee, Don't Do Me Like That, Even the Losers, and Here Comes My Girl. Nothing to complain about there. The album also has some strong could-have-been hits, namely Shadow of a Doubt (A Complex Kid) and You Tell Me. I'll even add country closer Louisana Rain, despite the noodling, minute-plus intro. That still leaves 2 not-bad-but-just-kinda-there songs (Century City and What Are You Doin' In My Life). And the cover photo may be an iconic Petty image, but it certainly doesn't belong in the pantheon of great album covers.

Since we're stuck in relativity here, failing the Thriller Test is no big deal as long as no other album in Petty's catalog does any better. So consider Full Moon Fever. The hits (Free Fallin', I Won't Back Down, Runnin' Down a Dream) are bigger, and the non-hits (A Face in the Crowd, Love Is a Long Road, Yer So Bad, I'll Feel a Whole Lot Better, Zombie Zoo) are stronger. I think it's a better choice for Rock Solid.

Personally, I'll always have a weak spot for 1994's Wildflowers, the second Petty album I bought. That's right, the Greatest Hits were first, just as they should be.

271. XTC: The Big Express (1984)

2010-06-07T03:49:00.006-05:00

After the commercial letdown of Mummer, the boys in XTC swung for the fences on The Big Express. That album title isn't incidental. The album has a BIG sound. Mummer sounded like the work of a group bound to the studio. Though XTC's no-touring stance had not (and would not) change, The Big Express sounds like a set of songs made to be played in enormous open-air arenas.

And of course this is still XTC, so the songs, for all their bluster, are still idiosyncratic and quirky.

Colin Moulding gives us an arresting opener, the single Wake Up. Lyrically it's somewhat obtuse, with two verses about the work day, a final one about the scene of an accident (supposedly a recurring dream for Colin), and a chorus that's basically the title phrase delivered from a whisper to a shout. The guitars clang, the words come at a rapid pace, and a heavenly choir wraps things up. Colin's only other song, I Remember the Sun, is quieter and less assuming. It's a collection of hazy childhood nostalgia set in a jazzy form.

Andy's songs on The Big Express cover a wide range of emotions and styles. Single All You Pretty Girls is a lustful, singalong sea shanty. (The Everyday Story of) Smalltown sets vignettes of daily life and a staunch anti-urban sprawl message ("If it's all the same to you / Mrs. Progress / Think I'll drink my Oxo up / And get away / It's not that you're repulsive to see / In your brand new catalogue nylon nightie / You're too fast for little old me / Next you'll be telling me it's 1990") to wide-open pop songwriting. Andy also gets personal, taking on the temptation to cheat on his wife (the sporadically amelodic Seagulls Screaming Kiss Her Kiss Her; Andy did end up cheating, and marrying the other woman) and crooked managers (the scathing I Bought Myself a Liarbird).

But he does his best work when writing about he ravages of war, which he does twice on The Big Express. The first, Reign of Blows (Vote No Violence), is musically forceful but lyrically elegant. It's also sadly still applicable 26 years on. Witness lines like "So torture raises its head / Decked out in blue, white, and red" and "When death draws up in his car / And talks in terrorist tones / Remember violence is only a vote for the / Black Queen to take back the throne."

The second is definitely the band's finest achievement up to this point, and maybe ever. It's called This World Over, and it imagines a the aftermath of nuclear war through the eyes of a father surveying the wasted landscape with his mutated children who know nothing of the world before. Answering their questions, he lays blame squarely on an overzealous world leader with a "famous face" (a.k.a. Ronald Reagan) and his iffy motivations. I get chills at this bit, every time:

"Will you tell them about that far off and mythical land
And how a child to the virgin came?
Will you tell them that the reason why we murdered
Everything upon the surface of the world
So we can stand right up and say we did it in his name?"

Musically, it's minor key and melancholy, wisely letting focus stay on the lyrics.

Unfortunately, as wondrous as that song is, The Big Express also contains prime examples of Partridge at his most over-the-top. The psycho-county of Shake You Donkey Up and the chugging Train Running Low on Soul Coal both feature Partridge at his least restrained and most annoying. Neither is an especially awful song, but anyone who doesn't like XTC could definitely use them as compelling evidence.

Overall though, The Big Express is another fascinating album in a catalog full of them. But the boys' next move would prove to be even more audacious, surprising, and innovative.

Grade: B
Fave Song: This World Over

Rock Solid: The Rolling Stones

2010-06-01T03:49:00.005-05:00

"If you only own one album by The Rolling Stones it's gotta be [insert masterpiece here]."

Welcome to Rock Solid, where we fill in the blank. Our goal is to pseudo-scientifically determine the best, the beloved, the most classic album in an artist's catalog.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources. The All Music Guide provides the professional critical point-of-view and Amazon.com offers the fan perspective (because most people who choose to review albums on Amazon are adoring fans of the artist in question). The album with the highest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the best.

The declared winner will be subjected to the Thriller Test (do I need to explain the name?), a set of 4 criteria an album should meet to be considered a masterpiece. Those are 1) at least 3 hits, 2) great album tracks that sh/could have been hits, 3) no filler, and 4) memorable cover art.

An artist's entire body of work is eligible, with one exception: No compilations (i.e. greatest hits). In each case, I'll also share my personal favorite album by the artist in question, as if you care.

* * *

Holy logjam, Batman! The Rolling Stones have no less than 8 albums statistically tied for Rock Solid status. That's definitely the most so far. We can choose to attribute this to the band's sheer longevity, or we can choose to believe they truly are The World's Greatest Rock 'n' Roll Band. I'm leaning toward the former.

Anyway, as I said, eight albums received 5 star reviews from the All Music Guide and a 4.5 star review average on Amazon.com (no R.S. album got the full 5 average from fans). They are: 12 X 5 (1964), The Rolling Stones, Now! (1965), Aftermath (1966), Beggar's Banquet (1968), Let It Bleed (1969), Sticky Fingers (1971), Exile on Main Street (1972), and Some Girls (1978).

To break up the logjam we have to look the percentages of five star ratings within the 4.5 star average on Amazon.com. And then it becomes clear : With an impressive 87%, Sticky Fingers is our winner.

The All Music Guide's tireless Stephen Thomas Erlewine finds that Sticky Fingers has "a loose, ramshackle ambiance that belies both its origins and the dark undercurrents of the songs." He also praises its "offhand mixture of decadence, roots music, and outright malevolence."

As per usual, the hyperbole birds come out in full force on Amazon.com. Loren sez: "In my not so humble opinion, Sticky Fingers is the greatest rock n roll album of all time." Charles R. Stewart III remarks that Sticky Fingers, "will be my favorite album until I die....then they can bury me with it..." And hopefully they remember the record player, too. James McDonnell believes that, "In 50 yrs. they will still be playing this album at college dorm parties." But Patrick Farrelly, obviously speaking from experience, warns: "In a lame crowd, this is an instant party killer."

And though Amazon.com reviewers are rarely known for their vocabularies, two, count 'em, two reviewers used the word "apotheosis" (a Greek term meaning "the appearance of a theme in grand or exalted form") in their review: The Dirty Mac ("Here we've got the Stones at the apotheosis of their raunchiness, decadence and political incorrectness") and Nathan ("with the Mick Taylor period, the Stones reached the apotheosis of their own, unique, mature sound").

But does Sticky Fingers stand up to the Thriller Test?

1) At least 3 hits
Oooh, this is close. Brown Sugar and Wild Horses are the only bonafide hits on the album. Both are instant classics, with the horns highlighting racy lyrics about interracial sex (other interpretations say it's about heroin, for which the title phrase is slang) on the former and the latter is a genuinely-felt statement of commitment in an f-ed up relationship (romantic or familial, I'm unsure). No other songs were even released as singles. Fail (Though to be fair, only one of the 8 Rolling Stones' Rock Solid contenders features more than two hits; more on that momentarily).

2) Great album tracks
Bitch serves up a rockin' riff and hot horns. Sway provides the blueprint for the Black Crowes' entire output. Can't You Hear Me Knocking is a guitar orgy. Sister Morphine takes the torch from the Velvet Underground's Heroin and runs with it. And I'll even throw in Dead Flowers, though Mick's overdone twang in the beginning bothers me because the rest of the song is so respectful and affectionate toward the country genre. Pass

3) No filler
Amazon.com reviewer Robert Bykowski feels that "of the Stones' 'golden four' albums (Beggar's Banquet, Let It Bleed, Sticky Fingers, and Exile on Main Street)," Sticky Fingers is the best because "though each of the four is an unquestionable masterpiece, the other three DO have at least one or two filler tracks on them." I'd argue with him on You Gotta Move (unremarkable minimalist blues), Moonlight Mile (hypnotic and mysterious if you're in the right mood; boring if you're not), and I Got the Blues (not bad, but it's standard stuff). Fail

4) Memorable cover art

Um, yeah. Whichever way you swing, you have to give kudos. Andy Warhol provided the cover photo (it's not Mick's crotch, in case you were wondering) and the original vinyl had a workable zipper! Bonus for this being the first Stones album to sport the lips logo. Pass

So, a sound fail on the Thriller Test (which doesn't mean Sticky Fingers isn't a good album, by the way; it is). So what deserves the spot instead?

Well, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Exile on Main Street, especially in light of its recent reissue and its status as the "it pick" for Stones' masterpiece. The rambling double album performed okay at the time of its release and started to pick up steam later thanks to ardent rock snob support, culminating in Rolling Stone placing at #7 on their "500 Greatest Albums of All Time" list (Sticky Fingers was only at #63). Exile has some great moments, but I'm glad it wasn't Rock Solid (in fact, it fell out at third place overall, with Beggar's Banquet taking second).

My own personal favorite is Some Girls, and I'm willing to put forth that it actually does pass the Thriller Test. It's got 3 hits (Miss You, Beast Of Burden, and Shattered), lots of killer extras (When the Whip Comes Down, a cover of Just My Imagination, Respectable, the title track), and not a dull moment. Plus, the cover art is interactive, weird, and arresting.

Author's Note: This is album review #270.

269. XTC: Mummer (1983)

2010-04-30T15:49:00.001-05:00

Mummer marks the debut of XTC as a studio-only band. In the middle of a particularly-taxing U.S. tour for English Settlement, frontman Andy Partridge swore off touring forever.

This wasn't unprecedented, and especially not among Partridge's primary musical heroes. Brian Wilson quit touring with the Beach Boys in 1965. The Beatles gave up the road in 1966. In Wilson's case, the first album of his homebody existence was a little number called Pet Sounds. The Beatles made Revolver. Both albums are perennially in the discussion for best album of all time.

Mummer is not quite in the same league as those two, but it's not a bad album. In fact. On most days I'd take it over English Settlement.

In some fans' minds, Mummer is a black sheep in the XTC catalog thanks to the presence of synthesizers on several tracks. Though the record was partially helmed by Steve Nye (who produced New Romantic faves Japan), I don't get the idea that synths were used for particularly commercial reasons. I may be mistaken, but I believe that in 1983 every band was legally mandated to use synths! Due to a variety of factors (a girlfriend in Australia, the fact that the band had stopped touring, the lighter, less band-oriented nature of the songs) drummer Terry Chambers quit in the middle of the sessions. He was replaced, though not on a permanent basis, by Peter Phipps, of Gary Glitter's backing band.

All of this lends Mummer an experimental air, and what it lacks in cohesion it makes up for with charm.

Most of the record's best songs are on its first side. In fact, all 3 singles released from the album are there. The first is Colin Moulding's Wonderland, the album's worst synth offender, but a great song nonetheless. It's about a frustrated, rejected lad whose lady has unrealistic expectations of romance (she seems to be holding out for a rich, handsome Prince Charming). My favorite part is the way he upbraids her as he spits out the final line: "Caught in your superficial, nonexistant, fairy-story, wonderland."

Andy's Love on a Farmboy's Wages sports a wicked acoustic guitar riff and an ultra-melodic bridge. Its subject matter is not far from Wonderland's; both concern the intersection of romance and money. Partridge's narrator worries that he can't provide for his girl on a meagre income (he'd revisit the theme in Skylarking's Earn Enough For Us). One wonders if the sudden worry was bourne out of the decision to stop touring and the lost income that resulted. When he sings, "The only job I do well is here on the farm," he seems resigned to the fact that being a musician will never make him rich.

The third and final single is Great Fire, a love song that likens romance to flames burning out of control. Opener Beating of Hearts sounds ominous with its jungle drums and vaguely Indian phrasings, but it's actually a hippie anthem about love being stronger than violence and hatred.

Side one is rounded out by Deliver Us from the Elements. another synth-fest from Colin. Its a spooky (both musically and lyrically) tune, about how we're powerless before extreme weather and natural disasters. It almost seems like a prayer: "Oh Lord deliver us from the elements / We've no defence, we are impotent." The backwards guitar looping shows the band reveling in the freedom of not having to reproduce the song live.

The album's second half is a fairly steep drop off. Human Alchemy has intriguing lyrics about the shamefulness of slavery (using the metaphor of turning human beings into gold), but it's musically plodding, and I'm not a fan of the distorted vocals. Nor am I enamored of the jazzy Ladybird. Its melody is occasionally beguiling, but more often boring. The bitter break-up tune Me and the Wind is similar. The "have I been such a fool" part is very memorable and the lyrics aren't bad ("Now that I'm out and I'm shouting in doorways / Freed from a love more like murder / I should be singing but in liberation/ Feel like a ship with no rudder"), but the minimalist, amelodic verses bog things down.

That leaves Colin's war hero anthem In Loving Memory of a Name (which is very musically upbeat number considering the subject matter) and Andy's bitter Funk Pop A Roll to pick up the slack. And they do. The latter especially. It's about the general chew 'em up and spit 'em out music industry: "Funk pop a roll the only goal /The music business is a hammer to keep / You pegs in your holes / But please don't listen to me / I've already been poisoned by this industry." Ironically, it would have made a good single.

The CD contains several bonus tracks, the best of which should have been called up to the a-team. Jump is a catchy acoustic number encouraging a reluctant romantic to express his feelings. Toys finds childrens' playthings acting out adult situations like racism, sexual politics, bullying, and war, reminding us that kids are always watching and emulating. I would have taken these two and chucked Ladybird and Human Alchemy in their favor. The album would have been stronger for it.

For a variety of reasons (the lack of a supporting tour, the new sound, the muted cover art), Mummer was XTC's worst showing in the charts yet, both in albums (#51) and singles (Love On a Farmboy's Wages peaked at #50, Wonderland and Great Fire didn't chart). From this point on, XTC would never quite recover their commercial mojo. Their artistic mojo, however, was just getting warmed up.

Grade: B-
Fave Song: Love On a Farmboy's Wages

Rock Solid: Billy Joel

2010-04-27T03:49:00.000-05:00

"If you only own one album by Billy Joel it's gotta be [insert masterpiece here]."

Welcome to Rock Solid, where we fill in the blank. Our goal is to pseudo-scientifically determine the best, the beloved, the most classic album in an artist's catalog.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources. The All Music Guide provides the professional critical point-of-view and Amazon.com offers the fan perspective (because most people who choose to review albums on Amazon are adoring fans of the artist in question). The album with the highest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the best. Rolling Stone serves as a tiebreaker in many cases and as a pain in the ass in others.

The declared winner will be subjected to the Thriller Test (do I need to explain the name?), a set of 4 criteria an album should meet to be considered a masterpiece. Those are 1) at least 3 hits, 2) great album tracks that sh/could have been hits, 3) no filler, and 4) memorable cover art.

An artist's entire body of work is eligible, with one exception: No compilations (i.e. greatest hits). In each case, I'll also share my personal favorite album by the artist in question, as if you care.

* * *

Let's get straight to it. Billy Joel's most beloved album is clearly 1977's The Stranger. Here are some statistics:

A combined 9.5 out of 10 star rating from the All Music Guide and Amazon.com.
10 million copies sold
4 top 25 hits
6 songs placed on Greatest Hits Volume 1 compilation
2 Grammys
#67 on Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Albums of All Time

Of course numbers do not a good album make. What do the critics and fans have to say? Well, All Music Guide's Stephen Thomas Erlewine says, "Joel rarely wrote a set of songs better than those on The Stranger, nor did he often deliver an album as consistently listenable." Though I must point out that this is probably not as over-the-moon as it sounds considering STE's obvious dislike of Joel (none of his albums get 5 stars and STE writes that Joel's "lyrics are often vague or mean-spirited. His lyrical shortcomings are overshadowed by his musical strengths. Even if his melodies sound more Broadway than Beatles.").

Amazon fans were not so backhanded. Take it away The Great Me: "This is yet another album that earns my respect. It doesn't have but one of my favorite Billy Joel tracks but it's my favorite album by Billy Boy. It is a true masterpiece in which Joel weaves his audience nine Godly tracks of beauty."

Matthew G. Sherwin adds that The Stranger "is indeed one of rare albums that is a must have for any serious collector of today's music!" BillyJoelNtrDame claims, "Nearly every song shines with the glimmer of virtual perfection." And an anonymous customer with questionable priorities states: "This CD would be the first thing I would grab if the house was burning down!!"

But the best comment of all comes from Thomas Magnum, who calls The Stranger "a virtual greatest hits record." He's dead on. Let's revisit and consider that statistic from above. There were 11 songs on the first disc of Billy Joel's two volume 1985 Greatest Hits compilation. Six of them were from The Stranger. The Stranger only had nine songs in the first place. That's a ridiculously high success rate.

But what about the Thriller Test? You know, if we wanted we could just as easily call it the Stranger Test. Witness:

1) At least 3 hits
How about four? Movin' Out (Anthony's Song), She's Always a Woman, Only the Good Die Young, and Just the Way You Are. The latter won the 2 aforementioned Grammys and its sweetness helped cement Billy as anathema to rock snobs everywhere. Movin' Out is a cynical piece questioning the promises of consumerism. She's Always a Woman is a often held up as misogynistic, given the not-so-flattering list of characteristics and the title phrase that seemingly generalizes them to encompass the entire female gender. However, the "she's always a woman" lead-in is preceded by the word "but" which generally indicates that whatever follows contradicts what came before. I would actually argue that the song is the opposite of misogynistic, that it's about the emergence of women as anything other than housewives and sex objects. Either way, the song has a gorgeous melody. And the all-your-religion-has done is shelter-you-from-reality anthem Only the Good Die Young may not be entirely accurate, but it's an admirable effort nonetheless. Pass.

2) Great album tracks
Sure. The title track never charted, but easily could have. It's an incisive look at the shifting nature of identity. Scenes From an Italian Restaurant is Billy's Abbey Road moment, stitching together three distinct song bits into one epic. It's one of my favorites, even though it doesn't make much sense as a whole. And I'd put Vienna here too, even though it didn't get the attention the other two did. Interestingly, its "you have your whole life ahead of you" message is in direct opposition to Only the Good Die Young's live-while-you-can philosophy. By the way, Billy has named this one of his two favorite songs of his own (the other was Summer, Highland Falls). Pass.

3) No filler
It's easy when you keep it short. Get It Right the First Time and Everybody Has a Dream aren't in the same league as the other 7 songs, but neither are they just there to take up space. The former features more dodgy life philosophy ("you have to do this right on your first try") but is a catchy tune even so. Closer Everybody Has a Dream sounds like a treacly Disney theme, but is actually about a lost man whose only comfort is imagining being at home with the woman he loves. Pass.

4) Memorable cover art
The black and white, the suit, the unmade bed, the mask, the boxing gloves. It's self-consciously arty, but it's also iconic. Pass.

So The Stranger is basically a kick-ass album, but that's not to say that doesn't have worthy competitors in the Billy Joel catalog. Anyone looking to expand their Billy Joel experience cannot go wrong with Turnstiles (1976), 52nd Street (1978), Glass Houses (1980), The Nylon Curtain (1982), or An Innocent Man (1983). The latter, a stylistic tribute to Motown, James Brown, and doo-wop, is my own personal fave.

Author's Note: This is album review #268.

Rock Solid: Elton John

2010-04-22T03:49:00.001-05:00

"If you only own one album by Elton John it's gotta be [insert masterpiece here]."

Welcome to Rock Solid, where we fill in the blank. Our goal is to pseudo-scientifically determine the best, the beloved, the most classic album in an artist's catalog.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources. The All Music Guide provides the professional critical point-of-view and Amazon.com offers the fan perspective (because most people who choose to review albums on Amazon are adoring fans of the artist in question). The album with the highest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the best. Rolling Stone serves as a tiebreaker in many cases and as a pain in the ass in others.

The declared winner will be subjected to the Thriller Test (do I need to explain the name?), a set of 4 criteria an album should meet to be considered a masterpiece. Those are 1) at least 3 hits, 2) great album tracks that sh/could have been hits, 3) no filler, and 4) memorable cover art.

An artist's entire body of work is eligible, with one exception: No compilations (i.e. greatest hits). In each case, I'll also share my personal favorite album by the artist in question, as if you care.

* * *

Any long musical career is bound to have peaks and valleys, and Reginald Dwight has peaked and valleyed like no other. We already know from the Rock Bottom entry that his low points were low (so much so that he had two albums statistically tied for last place). But what about his highs? His run of albums in the early-to-mid '70s is mind-boggling in quantity, quality and sales. Will it be as difficult to find a clear masterpiece as it was to find his worst album?

Yes and no. Unlike his Rock Bottom, one album stands out statistically above all of the others. That's Elton's third effort, 1971's Tumbleweed Connection, a loose concept album about the American wild west. The album got 5 star ratings from both the All Music Guide and Amazon.com. The competition was not far behind, with 1973's Goodbye Yellow Brick Road coming closest (it actually scored slightly better with the fans, percentage-wise). Honky Chateau (1972) and Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy (1975) also made valiant efforts. Though the choice is clear, I have reservations about it, and I'll explain why in a bit. First, let's hear some justifications.

Of Tumbleweed, All Music Guide review-writing-machine Stephen Thomas Erlewine said, "[Bernie] Taupin's lyrics are evocative and John's melodic sense is at its best." Amazon.com fans agree. Kim Fletcher opines, "At all times the musicianship and songwriting is faultless." D. Haralson believes it is "by far, his greatest album ever." And Nathan Sikes says, "Tumbleweed Connection is the yardstick by which all of Elton's subsequent material should be measured." Even Sir Elton himself singled out Tumbleweed Connection: "Lyrically and melodically, that’s probably one of our most perfect albums. I don’t think there’s any song on there that doesn’t melodically fit the lyric."

Personally, I think the critics and fans (and even Elton) whiffed this one. Though Tumbleweed is wonderful album (it's consistent and enveloping, and Come Down In Time, Amoreena, and Burn Down the Mission are all excellent tunes), it simply can't be Elton's finest work. Why? Three reasons:

1) I think a masterpiece should serve as a sort of encapsulation of an artist's talent and appeal. Tumbleweed shows off Elton's talents for sure, but in a very uncharacteristic way. Think about it. What is Elton known for besides sparkly glasses and gap teeth? Poppy hit singles, right? The man has 22 top tens on the U.S. chart alone. Tumbleweed Connection is an album with ZERO hits. And it's less pop music than it is folk-country and honky tonk. It's not representative of Elton's career in any way. And while I can definitely appreciate the irony of that, irony does not a Rock Solid make.

2) I'm afraid that Tumbeweed Connection is the rock snob's choice for Elton's best precisely because it's so unlike his other work. See, rock snobs aren't supposed to like successful artists, so Elton is off limits. But finding a good album by him that a) few people have heard of, and b) has no hits, is like striking hipster gold. Witness Amazon.com reviewer Hal Kronsberg: "Admittedly, before this album, my only real Elton John experiences came from hearing him on the radio. His most frequently played tracks out in Mississippi range from the banal Daniel or the inane Crocidile Rock and the cheese-ball Your Song. Basically, I was firmly convinced that Elton John was little more than a British Billy Joel and above all else, a world-class weiner [sic]. But hearing this album completely changed my opinion of him." And Kronsberg is not alone. Several other reviewers (Mr. King and John Stodder, I'm looking at you) wrote some variation of the backhanded compliment: "I hate Elton but I love this album."

3) Without even going through the criteria, I can tell you Tumbleweed Connection fails the Thriller Test. I don't apply this test to every artist, but if any artist's "best" album should be able to pass it, Elton's should.

Thus, to me, Tumbleweed's main challenger, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, seems a better choice. It contains the following top 10 hits: the title track, Candle In the Wind, Bennie and the Jets, and Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting. That's in addition to under-the-radar classics like the epic Funeral For a Friend / Love Lies Bleeding and pretty closer Harmony. It's a double album, over-the-top and outlandish and stylistically diverse. It was also wildly successful, selling 7 million copies in the U.S. alone. These are the things one thinks of when they think of Elton John, making it a better choice for Rock Solid. It's not a perfect album by any means, but it does encapsulate Elton John's artistry. Earlwine has my back on this. "In many ways," he writes in his All Music Review of Yellow Brick Road, "the double album was a recap of all the styles and sounds that made John a star."

My own personal favorite is neither Tumbleweed nor Yellow Brick Road. It's Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy, a record that's somewhat a combination of the two. Like Tumbleweed it's hit-starved (Captain Fantastic at least had Someone Saved My Life Tonight) but consistent. Like Goodbye Yellow Brick Road it's representative of the Elton experience, from the lavish cover art to the songs, which range from country and folk to rock and dramatic pop balladry. Plus, I'm a sucker for autobiography and self-mythologizing.

By the way, Rolling Stone agrees with me. On its list of the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, Tumbleweed Connection placed at 463, well below Captain Fantastic's 158 and Goodbye Yellow Brick Road's 91. The magazine, though complimentary when reviewing the 2008 Deluxe Edition of Tumbleweed Connection, was not over-the-moon about the album originally. Critic Jon Landau declared it a "missed opportunity" because of overproduction. (To be fair, the original reviews of the other two albums follow this same pattern, but I guess time has been even kinder to them; once again, don't look for logic in music criticism).

267. XTC: English Settlement (1982)

2010-04-18T15:49:00.001-05:00

I realize I'm putting my XTC superfan credibility on the line by saying this, but English Settlement has always felt a bit overrated to me.

Others fans can (and will) go on about it. In fact, there's a large contingent that believe the band reached their pinnacle on the album. And while I agree that English Settlement is an admirable piece of work, it's not an XTC album I pull off the shelf very often. I've never really tried to articulate why that is before, but now's a good a time as any.

First, some history: English Settlement found the boys making the most of the artistic and commercial success of Black Sea. They used their new currency to release a double vinyl set (it fits tidily on one CD) featuring a layered acoustic sound. Though daring for a band who had already made the transition from jumpy punk to muscular new wave, following their creative muse paid off. English Settlement nabbed them their highest U.K. album chart appearance yet (#5) and their biggest hit to date (Senses Working Overtime made it all the way to #10).

So with all this going for it, why isn't it one of my faves? First, the positive. Sonically, English Settlement is unassailable. It's a magnificent-sounding record, which is all the more impressive considering the band produced themselves (with Hugh Padgham engineering). And there are some amazing singular songs, three of which were actually released as singles. Senses Working Overtime is an optimistic burst of energy. No Thugs In Our House is about some parents who are oblivious to the fact that their son has joined a gang. And Colin's Ball and Chain concerns the destruction of residential areas in favor of "motorways and office blocks." Had Andy written this song you know he would have found a way to make it about marriage too. All of a Sudden (It's Too Late) and Snowman are also standouts, particularly the latter, a forlorn tale of romantic abuse.

But a large chunk of the tracks on English Settlement are more ideas than they are songs. Andy Partridge's Yacht Dance, Melt the Guns, Leisure, Knuckle Down, Down in the Cockpit, and It's Nearly Africa and Colin Moulding's English Roundabout are all textural, vibey, and loosely structured. In and of itself this isn't bad, but it becomes a problem when you add vague, impressionistic lyrics. Melt the Guns' obvious anti-war message is the exception, but for the most part the lyrics and voice are just another instrument in the song. I don't believe that every song needs to be laden with meaning, but it is a stark contrast to Black Sea's lyrical excellence, where every song was ABOUT something. Also, most of these English Settlement songs are overlong, averaging about 5 minutes each (this showed once and for all that XTC had given up on punk spirit; The Ramones could bang out at least 3 songs in 5 minutes). I could stand two or three songs like this, but half the record? No.

And it didn't have to be that way. Some songs manage to be expansive and keep a focused structure. Colin's opener, Runaways, sneaks up on the listener and remains hypnotic throughout. The same goes for the propulsive Fly on the Wall. Andy's take on the Greek myth Jason and the Argonauts is the album's second-longest song at 6 minutes, but is melodically-rich enough to warrant it.

XTC would never reach the commercial heights of English Settlement again. Not coincidentally, the album would also mark the end of XTC as a traditional pop group. Soon after its release, Andy Partridge would suffer a mental breakdown and vow never to tour again and drummer Terry Chambers would quit the band. And maybe it was for the best. Though popular success would elude them, their highest creative achievements were still to come.

Grade: B-
Fave Song: Snowman

266. The Brady Bunch: It's a Sunshine Day: The Best of the Brady Bunch (1993)

2010-04-13T03:49:00.010-05:00

Sitcoms and music have a long, incestuous history. From Ricky Nelson and the Monkees all the way to Miley Cyrus and the Jonas Brothers, the two have made the most of being together. The Brady Bunch, however, put the relationship to the test.

Most will remember the musical episodes of the show, notably "Dough-Re-Mi" (where Greg gets a recording contract and ends up bringing everybody in, only to have Peter's voice change the night before) and "Amateur Night" (where the kids enter a talent show to earn money to have a silver platter engraved for their parents).

But did you know the Brady kids made four albums as a group? Or that Maureen McCormick (Marcia) and Chris Knight (Peter) made a record as a duo? Or that Barry Williams (Greg), Eve Plumb (Jan), and Mike Lookinland (Bobby) all released solo singles?

It's A Sunshine Day, a compilation collecting the "best" of that output, was released in 1993. I was in high school and I'm guessing I bought it out of pure curiosity and nostalgia (I was an unrepentant rerun junkie), but the fact that listened to it fairly regularly probably explains why I didn't have many friends, let alone a girlfriend. Listening now, with a more refined ear, I still find some bits of guilty pleasure, as well as a healthy dose of just plain guilt.

The album starts, of course, with Theme from The Brady Bunch with words by acclaimed lyricist Sherwood Schwartz (the show's creator, also known for his classic Theme from Gilligan's Island and the lesser-hit Theme from It's About Time). Also notable are the songs from the above-mentioned episodes: We Can Make the World a Whole Lot Brighter, Time To Change (sadly without Pete's famous voice crack), Keep On, and It's a Sunshine Day. Despite dubious vocal performances (especially check out the druggy "can't you feel the sunshine" bits "sung" by Jan and Bobby on It's A Sunshine Day), all four are hard-to-resist, bright-eyed bubblegum pop.

And the album offers less-famous examples of this as well. Merry Go Round is a joyful tune that features the kids trading lead on the verses and joining together on the chorus. The lyrics aren't half-bad either, with the narrator comparing his love to a day at a carnival. The shouty Gonna Find a Rainbow is similarly optimistic. Candy (Sugar Shoppe) is as bubblegum as it gets, and shows 50 Cent wasn't at all original in his comparing candy to sex. Sample lyrics: "Candy kisses in the moonlight / Sugar shoppin' all through the night." I suggest you ignore the fact that it's brother and sister singing this to one another (Greg and Marsha shared the lead; at least they weren't blood relations).

Other group songs (We'll Always Be Friends and I Just Want To Be Your Friend) overdose on the syrup, and still others were poor choices (the spooky, depressing Charlotte's Web theme and a horn-driven, unsubtle, off key, and truncated cover of Don McLean's American Pie). And the less said about the Susan Olsen (Cindy) solo take on Frosty the Snowman the better.

It's A Sunshine Day also includes several solo singles and they are the true curios. Barry Williams' single single (Sweet Sweetheart, a Goffin and King compostion) is enjoyable, but didn't burn up the charts. If only they'd let him put it out under the Johnny Bravo brand! Barry started - but never completed - a full solo album, and that's probably for the best judging by the unreleased Cheyenne. It's a little bit country, and a little bit crappy.

Speaking of country, even mom Carol Brady, a.k.a. Florence Henderson also got in on the recording act. It was fitting since she got her start on Broadway, but you wouldn't know that from the boring, twangy Born to Say Goodbye. That leaves Maureen McCormick's Truckin' Back To You as the final - and best - of the three solo singles. Even though the song's title and chorus would probably be more suited coming from someone who might actually drive a semi, it's still catchy.

Finally, there's Road to Love, from Chris Knight and Maureen McCormick's album together. According to the liner notes, Chris was an extremely reluctant participant in the musical side of things, and Road to Love, a warbly treat-your-fellow-man well sort of message song, is proof that his instincts were good. On the positive side, check out that cover photo!

Interestingly, the liner notes also reveal that The Brady Bunch musical act basically killed The Brady Bunch television show. During the 5th season, the Brady actors negotiated to have half of all future episodes be musically-related. Cousin Oliver had already arrived and signaled a death knell, but this was the nail in the proverbial coffin. Sherwood Schwartz decided to end the show instead of turn it into a musical showcase.

It's a Sunshine Day is a sporadically-fun and always-fascinating compilation, but it's proof positive that Schwartz was a wise man.

Grade: C-
Fave Song: Theme from The Brady Bunch

Rock Solid: James Taylor

2010-04-09T03:49:00.002-05:00

"If you only own one album by James Taylor it's gotta be [insert masterpiece here]."

Welcome to Rock Solid, where we fill in the blank. Our goal is to pseudo-scientifically determine the best, the beloved, the most classic album in an artist's catalog.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources. The All Music Guide provides the professional critical point-of-view and Amazon.com offers the fan perspective (because most people who choose to review albums on Amazon are adoring fans of the artist in question). The album with the highest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the best. Rolling Stone serves as a tiebreaker in many cases and as a pain in the ass in others.

The declared winner will be subjected to the Thriller Test (do I need to explain the name?), a set of 4 criteria an album should meet to be considered a masterpiece. Those are 1) at least 3 hits, 2) great album tracks that sh/could have been hits, 3) no filler, and 4) memorable cover art.

An artist's entire body of work is eligible, with one exception: No compilations (i.e. greatest hits). In each case, I'll also share my personal favorite album by the artist in question, as if you care.

* * *

In James Taylor's Rock Bottom we learned that he's never made a bad album. But which one is the most not bad? Well, that'd be 1970's Sweet Baby James, his third album, easily. It's his only record to receive a full 10 star combined rating from the All Music Guide and Amazon.com. The closest competitors - Mud Slide Slim and the Blue Horizon (1971), JT (1977), and Dad Loves His Work (1981) - were a full star behind.

What makes Sweet Baby James so good? Let's hear from the critics and fans. The All Music Guide's William Ruhlmann enjoys the record because of "its attractive mixture of folk, country, gospel, and blues elements, all of them carefully understated and distanced." Rolling Stone's Gary Von Tersch seems to have a deep-down hipster instinct telling him he shouldn't like Taylor's work, but he can't help himself. "This is a hard album to argue with," he concludes.

Amazon.com fans are won over as well. "When we speak of classic records, this is the kind of stuff we have in mind," says Dr.Music. Barron Laycock writes, "There are hours and hours of wonderful experience in store for anyone with this album, whether you've come down in a space ship and are just introducing yourself to his work, or you are an old friend stopping by to sit on the front porch for a spell while Mudslide Slim plays and sings in his unforgettable voice for you. Enjoy!" Others declare Sweet Baby James the cream of the Taylor crop. Patricia T. Ogren states, "If I were stranded on a dessert island with only one album, this would be it" and Ol' Nuff N' Den Sum believes, "If you get any of James Taylor's albums, this should be the one." Frederick Baptist calls the record "James Taylor's best album at least during his full-set-of-hair days."

Baptist actually makes another claim as well. He believes that the album contains no filler and that is what qualifies it to be a classic. This is a good segueway into the Thriller Test, since "No filler" is one of the criteria.

1) At least 3 hits
Taylor's original Greatest Hits album featured 12 songs. Four of them were from Sweet Baby James: the title track (a country folk tune that combines past and present in a beguiling way), Country Road (another searching country tune; the album version features a choir, lending a gospel feel), Steamroller (a genuinely bluesy workout, challenging JT's "sensitive" image), and Fire and Rain (an immaculately-composed and performed account of Taylor's stay in a mental institution). I'd say getting four hits on the best greatest hits album ever is a pretty good batting average (.333). Pass

2) Great album tracks
Outside of the four big hits, there should be some songs that are either accepted classics or could-have-been-hits. Sweet Baby James has 3 of them. Lo and Behold sounds like a cover of an old-timey spiritual, but is actually an original. The lyrics don't make much sense to me, but they certainly are evocative ("there's a well on the hill / You just can't kill for Jesus").
Anywhere Like Heaven is the strongest could-have-been-a-single. It's got all of the Taylor hallmarks, some great finger-picking, steel guitar, and a warm vocal. Finally there's album closer Suite for 20 G, notable for being one of the only truly happy songs on the record and for the wonderfully unexpected R & B rave-up that comprises the last 2 minutes. Pass

3) No filler
This is where the album stumbles. Sunny Skies and Blossom are pleasant but inconsequential, which is the definition of filler. And the minimal blues tune Oh Baby, Don't You Loose Your Lip On Me is too short to amount of anything. And while the album has no bad songs, Oh! Susanna comes close. Taylor has pretty good luck interpreting others' songs (You've Got A Friend, How Sweet It Is To Be Loved By You, Up On the Roof, Handy Man). But this take on the light-hearted Stephen Foster tune falls closer to The Promised Land (a misguided take on a Chuck Berry classic) or his head-scratching version of (The Man Who Shot) Liberty Valance. Partial Credit

4) Memorable cover art
The cover photo represents the searching, slightly depressed nature of the Sweet Baby James' songs perfectly. The colors are cool and slightly washed out. Taylor's eyes stare at you soulfully. He's not smiling but he seems at ease. His hair is long and luxurious. Girls (and some boys) swooned. Pass.

So Sweet Baby James doesn't quite make it to classic status, but it gets darn close. And to be fair, I don't think any of Taylor's albums would have met all four criteria. Don't get me wrong. I have special places in my heart for JT, New Moon Shine (1991), and October Road (2002), but they all have their flaws. And let's face it, Taylor is a singles artist above all else. It's rare for me to recommend a compilation over an album, but Greatest Hits and Greatest Hits, Vol. 2 are truly James Taylor at his finest. Sweet Baby James is merely the next best thing.

Author's Note: This is album review #265.

264. The Bird and the Bee: Interpreting the Masters Volume 1: A Tribute to Daryl Hall and John Oates (2010)

2010-04-05T03:49:00.001-05:00

The cover song is one of the unsung (well, not literally) heroes of pop music. It gives new musicians a place to start, fills the empty spots on albums, and shakes up otherwise predictable concert set lists, among many other things. In fact, one might say that pop music as we know it wouldn't exist had a truck driver from Tupelo, Mississippi not decided to add his hillbilly twang to some R & B songs and four lads from England not lived in a shipping town where the latest Little Richard and Miracles 45s were readily available for them to learn and recreate.

If you break it down, there are basically two types of cover songs. The Homage is a faithful reproduction, usually done out of love and admiration for the original. The Re-Thinking takes a song and gives it a semi-to-very radical new arrangement. Within these types there are lots of reasons artist choose to record cover songs. They include (but are not limited to): a) to score a guaranteed hit, b) to rescue a good song from obscurity, c) to make an uncool artist cool again, d) to be funny or ironic, e) to have fun, and f) to donate the proceeds to charity.

This is why the cover song cannot be dismissed, because it has enough appeal for everyone. The most basic and superficial of music fans love covers, because anything familiar to them is good. They prefer The Homage, for reasons a, e and f. Rock snobs tend to gravitate toward Re-Thinkings, with reasons b, c, and d considered acceptable.

Though I'd never truly dismiss covers as a viable form of musical expression, I remain wary of them. I usually have no use for faithful cover versions that are little more than note-by-note recreations. Why not listen to the original instead? That means I lean toward the rock snob mindset (though I draw the line at the ironic cover, especially when it's a white artist covering a hip-hop song as a ballad, e.g. Ben Folds' Bitches Ain't Shit. Sure it was funny at first, but once everyone started doing it, the joke got real old). That aside, there are lots of great examples of Re-Thinkings: Jeff Buckley's Hallelujah, The Black Crowes' Hard To Handle, Otis Redding's Satisfaction, every Bob Dylan cover ever. There are bad ones too (Madonna's American Pie anyone?) but I tend to love the covers that respect the original and bring something completely new to it at the same time.

So where does The Bird and the Bee's new album, Interpreting the Masters Volume 1: The Songs of Daryl Hall and John Oates fit? Irony seems a likely culprit considering Hall and Oates' cheesy image, but at the same time, you don't do a whole album of songs by an artist you don't truly respect. The next logical purpose of such a project would be to point out the strong craft behind the original songs (and thus make Hall & Oates cool again) by stripping away the '80s production, but these are Homages. They don't reproduce the originals exactly, but they hew very close, even down to prominent use of synths and drum machines. Anyway, at this point only the snobbiest of the snobs still refuse to acknowledge Hall & Oates' musical cred, and those wretched few aren't likely to be won over by the faithful versions of the originals.

So it seems the album is to be taken at face value, as a band simply recreating songs they truly love. And that makes it hard not to like, even more so when The Bird and the Bee principals Inara George and Greg Kurstin sing about their inspiration on the album's lone original, opener Heard It On the Radio. The song is about the way music becomes intertwined with important moments in our lives, especially when we're young: "When we first met they were playing that song and it stuck into my head, stuck into my head," George sings. Even without a Kiss On My List mention, it's not a far jump to assume Hall and Oates were the soundtrack to many youthful days for George (35 years old) and Kurstin (39). I suppose it's the highest compliment that I actually thought Heard It On the Radio was just another H & O cover before I did a little investigation.

If I have any quibble with the album it's in the song choices. The Bird and the Bee play it ultra safe, covering only the biggest of the big Hall and Oates hits. There's not a deep cut or lesser hit to be found. In fact, of the 8 covers on the album, 5 went to #1 in the U.S.: Rich Girl, Kiss On My List, Private Eyes, I Can't Go For That (No Can Do), and Maneater. The remaining 3 - Sara Smile, She's Gone and One on One - only made it to #s 4, 7, and 7 respectively. Not that I'd have necessarily picked lesser-known-or-successful songs, just different ones, such as Out of Touch, So Close, or You Make My Dreams.

Since the songs are redone so faithfully, the main thing to latch onto is the fact that it's a female voice singing them. This leads to some interesting conundrums once again related to song choices, since Inara George is not a lesbian (she's married to Lawrence Kasdan's son Jake, who deserves to be forever immortalized for directing Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story). But I suppose you can imagine she is, when you hear her sing "it's you and me forever" to a woman named Sara on Sara Smile, or lament the fact that her lover has left her on She's Gone. Actually I think it's pretty cool, but one does wonder about the justification (it would have been supremely easy to change the pronoun on She's Gone). On the other hand, Rich Girl and Maneater make George sound like one of those women who can't get along with other women. And still other songs actually benefit from the female perspective, at least in my heterosexual male estimation. One on One, Kiss On My List, and I Can't Go For That (No Can Do) (especially in the "I'll do anything you want me to" bit) become exponentially sexier with a woman singing them.

In the end, Interpreting the Masters Volume 1 is a fun, if strangely-conceived, album. It doesn't reveal anything new about Hall and Oates (except maybe that Private Eyes is a better song than I remembered), nor will it win you over if you don't already like them. It probably reveals more about The Bird and the Bee than anything, that they're willing to declare their love for something uncool without trying make it cool. I, for one, am definitely hoping for a Volume 2, and wondering who might get spotlight (I suggest Tears For Fears or The Pet Shop Boys).

Grade: B-
Fave Song: Heard It On the Radio

263. XTC: Black Sea (1980)

2010-04-01T03:49:00.001-05:00

If XTC spent their first three albums searching, Black Sea is where they finally found what they were looking for. Sure, their early work had individual shining moments (This Is Pop, Statue of Liberty, Are You Receiving Me, Making Plans for Nigel, among others), but Black Sea is Andy, Colin, Dave, and Terry's first consistently good record, the album where they became the XTC we know and love.

Perhaps it was the threat of being overshadowed by unassuming bassist Colin Moulding, or maybe it was just creative maturity, but Andy Partridge's songwriting took a leap on Black Sea. Of the four singles released from the album (Generals and Majors, Respectable Street, Towers of London, and Sgt. Rock (Is Going To Help Me)) three were Partridge compositions. More importantly, Sgt. Rock went to #16 on the UK charts, besting Moulding's Making Plans For Nigel by one spot (that it's the worst of the four singles is of no consequence).

Black Sea's first side is flawless. The album opens with Respectable Street, a new wave pogo stick of a song about the bad behavior and hypocrisy hiding behind idyllic suburbia. Witness the scathing second verse: "Now they talk about abortions /in cosmopolitan proportions to their daughters / as they speak of contraception / and immaculate receptions on their portable Sony entertainment centers." That's followed-up by Colin's best tune yet, the anti-war Generals and Majors (who "always seems so unhappy less they go to war"). I'm sure it's no coincidence that Living Through Another Cuba follows. In it, Andy bemoans the pissing contest otherwise known as the Cold War, which was reignited in 1979 by Soviet involvement in Afghanistan. Andy worries that "war is polishing his dream while peace plays second fiddle" and "this phenomenon happens every 20 years or so / if they're not careful your watch won't be the only thing with a radioactive glow." Not your typical pop song topic, for sure.

After those heavy thoughts, the next two songs tackle matters of the heart. Moulding's second (and final) song on the album is Love At First Sight, a bouncy and cutting look at one night stands. My favorite verse goes something like this: "Make a play at lust intention / Only just one thing in mind / Make a slip could be forever / Wedding bells, the shotgun kind." Andy's Rocket From A Bottle is an unabashedly joyful love song, with the chorus' melody soaring like the titular firecracker. Finally, side one wraps up with the excellent No Language In Our Lungs. It was used very effectively in a Freaks and Geeks episode to accompany a choosing-teams-in-gym-class scene, but it's actually the inability of words to express truly important moments. It's ironic coming from a band so adept at lyric-writing.

After that, side two can't help but be a bit of a let down, but it starts off strong. Towers of London is perhaps Andy's most melodically accomplished song up to that point. The lyrics concern the workmen who died building the Queen's palace. Next is Paper and Iron (Notes and Coins), a lesser piece featuring Andy's turn at expressing utter disdain for the idea of being part of the rat race (Colin had already covered this on Making Plans For Nigel). Things rebound on the breathless Burning With Optimism's Flames. Take this in conjuction with Rocket From a Bottle and you can conclude that Andy's love life going very well at this point. In fact, he was a newlywed.

Sgt. Rock (Is Going to Help Me) was the big success but ironically not anywhere near their best work, even up to that point. Not that it's a bad song. In it, a young comic book reading lad imagines his tough-as-nails idol (in this case the DC Comics military hero Sgt. Rock) as a model for dealing with the opposite sex (rather than opposing armies). The idea is sadly relatable to me, though apparently some women took it as misogynistic, probably in the line, "make the girl mine / keep her stood in line." I see it as more pathetic than anything.

Closer Travels In Nihlion is the album's only weak point, mostly because it's too musically appropraite to its title. The lyrical message, about how the punk movement lost its way and became just another identity to try on, is lost in a grating, amelodic, and overlong song. It's not truly awful, just a step back from the great quality of the rest of the record. On the positive side, it showed the band hadn't completely given up on their experimental nature.

Ultimately, it's not just the songwriting that makes Black Sea XTC's first great album. It's also the fact that the band is so musically lock-step with one another. The performances are uniformly strong, even on the lesser songs (it helped that crack producer Steve Lillywhite was once again at the helm). Given the quality of this album, the tenor of the music business at this point, and their steadily rising chart fortunes, there was no reason to believe XTC weren't poised for superstardom.

Grade: A-
Fave Song: No Language In Our Lungs / Generals and Majors

Fun Facts: The album's original title was Terry and the Lovemen, but drummer Terry Chambers refused to wear a tuxedo for the album cover photo. The band later used the pseudonym to record the song The Good Things for their own tribute album, Testimonial Dinner (this is reason #52 why I love XTC). Under Pressure was another rejected title, thus the diver suits on the cover.

262. Broken Bells: Broken Bells (2010)

2010-03-28T03:49:00.018-05:00

Broken Bells is a collaboration between Shins frontman James Mercer and producer extraordinaire Brian "Danger Mouse" Burton. The latter has already had great success as half of a super-duo, teaming with Cee-Lo to become Gnarls Barkley.

And though it contains no breakout hit on the level of Crazy, Broken Bells' debut album is an enjoyable piece of work.

However, that assessment is mostly dependent on you holding Mercer in high regard, since his voice and sensibility stand at the center of the record. In fact, it's easy to view Broken Bells as a James Mercer solo album with production by Danger Mouse. Sure, Burton cowrites every song and brings an experimental spirit with him (especially in the diverse instrumentation), but this is Mercer's show.

In fact, those hoping for something that doesn't sound mostly like The Shins will only have one song to latch onto. That'd be The Ghost Inside, which is the strange amalgam of indie rock and futuristic R & B that post probably expected from this collaboration. Over a Neptunesish keyboard line, Mercer employs a heretofore-unheard syncopated falsetto. It's all well and good, but I must admit a sense of relief when Mercer goes back to his regular singing voice in the song's final minute. I guess that means that, overall, it doesn't really work for me.

On a handful of other songs, Burton's free-wheeling production touch is evident as well. Your Head is on Fire has a decidedly dreamy '60s feel to it, especially in the freakout opening and the harmonies-and-shakers outro. Sailing To Nowhere stitches together bossa nova, opera, soul, and classical to no great effect, thus making the title especially appropriate title. For quality neither of them matches Mongrel Heart, an '80s dark synth pop tune with a detour into a spaghetti western Ennio Morricone-style breakdown.

But the rest of the album is basically straight-up enigmatic Shinish pop that falls into one of two categories: pretty good and okay. In the latter category we have Trap Doors, Citizen, and October, any of which would sound nice on the soundtrack to Zach Braff's next movie (I don't mean that sarcastically, by the way). Leading the "pretty good" category is opener and first single The High Road. The highlight is the singalong ending with a choir of Mercers: "it's too late to change your mind / you let loss be your guide." Vaporize sports some groovy organ and horn bits, and strong closer The Mall and Misery is a little bit punk and a little bit new wave.

Sometimes side projects transcend their nature and become the center of attention. Others live up to the description exactly, offering a pleasant diversion and little else. Broken Bells is one of those.

Grade: B-
Fave Song: Mongrel Heart

Rock Solid: Beach Boys

2010-03-25T03:49:00.024-05:00

"If you only own one album by The Beach Boys it's gotta be [insert masterpiece here]."

Welcome to Rock Solid, where we fill in the blank. Our goal is to pseudo-scientifically determine the best, the beloved, the most classic album in an artist's catalog.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources. The All Music Guide provides the professional critical point-of-view and Amazon.com offers the fan perspective (because most people who choose to review albums on Amazon are adoring fans of the artist in question). The album with the highest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the best. Rolling Stone serves as a tiebreaker in many cases and as a pain in the ass in others.

An artist's entire body of work is eligible, with one exception: No compilations (i.e. greatest hits). In each case, I'll also share my personal favorite album by the artist in question, as if you care.

* * *

Far be it from me to propagate the same old story of rock history. The established Beach Boys narrative would have you believe that 1966's Pet Sounds is not only the band's clear masterpiece, but also one of the best albums ever recorded. Mojo, the British music magazine, in fact, named it "the greatest album ever made." Rolling Stone placed it at number 2 in their 500 Greatest Albums of All Time list. Beatle Paul McCartney has declared Pet Sounds his favorite record and said, "I figure no one is educated musically 'til they've heard that album." But would you believe that it's NOT The Beach Boys' Rock Solid?

Nope, that honor goes to Pet Sounds' 1965 predecessor, Today! Both albums received full 5 star ratings from the All Music Guide. On Amazon.com, however, Pet Sounds sits at a 4.5, Today! at a 5. The former had 72% of reviewers giving it perfect marks, the latter 81%.

I can guess what you're going to say next, that I'm letting one critic and a minority of fans override the majority opinion. And I see that, especially since my own preferences lean toward complete adoration of Pet Sounds (I even own a box set of the recording sessions). But, out of academic curiosity and a sense of fairness, let's entertain the notion that Today! could be Pet Sounds' superior. In fact, this is a perfect opportunity to do a Dr. Jack Ramsay style breakdown (with apologies to Dr. Jack and Bill Simmons, from whom I stole this format.)

THE CRITICS
All Music Guide's Richie Unterberger says Today! is "the first Beach Boys album that is strong almost from start to finish." He praises the record's "sophisticated themes" but complains that the album's version of Help Me Rhonda! is an older, inferior one. Rolling Stone placed Today! at #270 in their 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, calling head Beach Boy Brian Wilson a "genius" and claiming, "the haunting She Knows Me Too Well hits as deep as anything on Pet Sounds."

Speaking of that, Unterberger opens his Pet Sounds review with the following sentence: "The best Beach Boys album, and one of the best of the 1960s." He goes on to lavish praise on every facet of the record: the melodies, production, composition, vocal performances, lyrical themes, spirituality, and influence. In his 1972 Rolling Stone review of Pet Sounds (better late then never) Stephen Davis has the benefit of hindsight. He writes, "This trenchant cycle of love songs has the emotional impact of a shatteringly evocative novel, and by God if this little record didn't change only the course of popular music, but the course of a few lives in the bargain." His conclusion is as follows: "It is by far the best album Brian has yet delivered."

Edge: Pet Sounds

THE FANS
Today! may have a host of 5 star reviews, but nearly every review mentions it in comparison to Pet Sounds. Witness:

"Many Beach Boys/Brian Wilson fanatics rank Today! as their second favorite album after Pet Sounds, and who could argue with such an assessment?" (Anonymous)
"After Pet Sounds, I believe that The Beach Boys' Today! is their greatest album." (J.Thomas)
"I agree with the general consensus that Today! is the Beach Boys' best album after Pet Sounds."
"I don't know how many people agree with me on this, but I really enjoy this CD at least as much as Pet Sounds." (R. Stauffer)

But will anyone make a convincing case for it actually being better than Pet Sounds? Z. Higlefort starts off promisingly. "In many ways," he writes of Today!, "This is the quintessential Beach Boys album because it covers both the extroverted, good timin', rock n' roll spirit of the band taken to new heights on side one, plus, more importantly, the introverted, maturing, genius heart of Brian with the string of sophisticated ballads on side two." It's the best argument I've heard in favor of Today!, because Pet Sounds doesn't contain the fun, loose aspect of The Beach Boys' sound. However, Higlefort ends his review thusly: "An unforgettable album, and second only to Pet Sounds, in my opinion."

Usually those Amazon.com reviewers who are prone to hyperbole (which is to say 99.44% of them) are content to name an album a personal best by the artist. In the case of Pet Sounds, fans weren't content to limit themselves to the Beach Boys catalog. Consider:

"The Beach Boys created brilliance. Those who do not get it are not listening or do not understand the history of music." (All Powerful Wizard of Oz)
"It is the best album ever recorded." (Luke Wienecke)
"It it NOT possible to find a better musical masterpiece..." (Radio Jeff)
"Quite possibly the greatest moment in popular music history." (Lambi)
"It really is the greatest popular recording to date." (Bob Penn, who sees hope for the future, which I like)

The appropriately-named Saintsmen says of Pet Sounds, "If Heaven had music, this would be Earth's attempt to copy it." And Anastasia Smith opines: "It is essential for anyone who has ears, as well as anyone willing to explore sounds that reach the same level of depth and complexity that the emotional lyrics convey" (I'm very interested in how that second group explores sounds without actually having ears, but I digress). As if that weren't enough, Eidolon ties it up with a bow for us. He says, "the truth is that Brian Wilson's gorgeous Pet Sounds is by far the finest Beach Boys album ever produced. "

Edge: Pet Sounds

THE HITS BY THE NUMBERS
Today! had four charting singles. Do You Wanna Dance went to #12, When I Grow Up To Be a Man actually hit #9, and Dance, Dance, Dance got as high as #8. Help Me Rhonda was a #1 hit, but the version that's on the album isn't the version that topped the chart. It's a different mix, with less baritone vocal and no guitar solo. So I won't count it. That gives Today!'s hits a 10 average.

Pet Sounds had three charting singles. The mournful Caroline No got to #32, the traditional Sloop John B was a #3 hit, and wistful opener Wouldn't It Be Nice made it to #8. That's a 14 average.

Edge: Today!

THE HITS BY THE QUALITY
Of course chart performance doesn't necessarily speak to quality. Do You Wanna Dance and Dance, Dance, Dance are both fun and well-constructed, but are ultimately fluff. On the other hand When I Grow Up (To Be a Man) is actually pretty deep, man. It's framed as a teenager's musings on what he'll be like as he ages, wondering about his future wife, if his kids will think he's cool, if he'll keep his sense of humor, or still like new music. There's excitement there, but a clear fear of mortality as well, especially in the outro and the repeated line "won't last forever / it's kinda sad."

Speaking of growing up, Wouldn't It Be Nice is about a young couple yearning for the freedom of adulthood, mainly the simple pleasure of waking up with the one you love. It's a great love song. Caroline No is the exact opposite, a fascinating elegy for a failing relationship. Exactly why things have gone wrong is unclear, but it appears to have something to do with the fact that the titular Caroline has cut her hair short. Finally, Sloop John B is a new arrangement of a classic maritime folk tune. It's enjoyable, but lightweight.

In the end, both albums have hits that offer a mix of fluff and depth, each with a different balance; it just depends on which you value more.

Edge: tie

THE NON HITS
Today! contains some killer tracks that never were never released as singles. Namely, the sublime Pet Sounds-presaging She Knows Me Too Well and Please Let Me Wonder. Other songs, like the remake of The Crystals' Then He Kissed Me (Then I Kissed Her), Good To My Baby, and I'm So Young move things along, but don't necessarily stand out. The only truly weak moment is the closing interview segment Bull Session with Big Daddy, wherein we learn little more than the band likes Europe and hamburgers.

Pet Sounds is considered such a great album because it's a true album: Songs meant to be heard (both musically and thematically) as one suite, not as individual singles. So it's amazing that not only does it work as a whole, but that nearly every song is able to stand on its own as well. I Just Wasn't Made For These Times, Don't Talk (Put Your Head On My Shoulder), and That's Not Me are all perfect examples. And then of course there's God Only Knows, the gold standard of love songs (despite the confusing opening line "I may not always love you" which is immediately negated by "but long as there are stars above you / you'll never need to doubt it"). The only true drawback to Pet Sounds is the instrumentals. They work well in context, but I'm not necessarily excited to have them come up on my iPod shuffle.

Edge: Pet Sounds

COVER ART
Today!'s cover features a classic '50s influenced design, with the brown top and bottom bars, and the song titles listed. The photo of the Boys by a swimming pool is pretty goofy. Consider the identical sweaters of different colors, the awkward positioning (are their feet dangling in the water, or are they on a long innertube?), the squinty eyes, and the leering smiles.

Pet Sounds' cover is equally well-designed and equally goofy (but perhaps intentionally so). The color bar and song titles remain, but in a wonderful green and yellow combination and an eye-catching font. The picture of the boys feeding goats may match the album's title, but it's absurdly incongruous with the serious and high-minded music contained within. But, it is memorable, and has become iconic despite itself.

Edge: Pet Sounds

ALBUM CHARTS and SALES
This depends on whether you look at it as a 100 meter dash or a marathon. Initially Today! was the better performer, reaching #4 on the U.S. Billboard album chart. Pet Sounds was a relative disappointment upon its release, only making it to #10 on the same chart. However, total sales tell a different story. Pet Sounds has since gone Platinum (1,000,000 sales), while Today! is still only certified Gold (500,000 sales). Consider also that Pet Sounds has seen multiple re-releases in various formats, while Today! was out-of-print for awhile and was released most recently on CD as a two-fer with Summer Days (and Summer Nights!!).

Edge: Pet Sounds

FINAL VERDICT
Though Today! gave a valiant fight, the winner is clearly Pet Sounds by a final score of 6 to 2. And all is right with the world again. However, Today! is not a bad place to go if you'd like more Beach Boys beyond their masterpiece. I'd also highly recommend Sunflower (1970) and Surf's Up (1971). And of course Brian Wilson's finally-finished Smile (2005) is also essential (in fact, had it been finished by the whole band as originally planned, it might have been a serious contender in this very spot).

Author's Note: These are reviews #260 and 261.

259. XTC: Drums and Wires (1979)

2010-03-22T03:49:00.011-05:00

Barry Andrews, whose keyboard was an integral part of the early XTC sound, left the band in 1979 due an internal struggle with guitarist/songwriter/singer Andy Partridge. Andrews saw them as equals; Andy saw himself as the leader.

So it's ironic that the first post-Andrews album, Drums and Wires, finds a new challenger to Partridge's supremacy. Bassist Colin Moulding, who had contributed 3 awful songs to White Music and 3 mediocre ones to Go 2, made an amazing leap in songwriting on the album. In fact, he wrote all of the album's singles, including the song that stands as the band's third-biggest hit, Making Plans for Nigel.

Mostly thanks to the catchiness of that song (and Life Begins at the Hop) and the introduction of talented guitarist Dave Gregory as Barry Andrews' replacement, the common belief is that Drums and Wires was the debut of XTC as a guitar-based melodic pop group (rather than a new wave punk band). But the full album doesn't quite support that theory. It's actually a transitional work, with the post-punk/new wave sound of their first two albums mellowing only slightly. The album's second side is especially filled with manic, rhythmic, off-kilter, and borderline-experimental songs.

All of those side 2 songs happen to be Andy compositions. And if he was taking baby steps musically, lyrically is where he was making true strides. Of course there are the requisite girl songs: In Helicopter he compares a particularly elusive woman to the titular vehicle, and throws in a bad pun for good measure ("I object to all the air male that she pick up"); the jagged When You're Near Me I Have Difficulty is a love song, listing the ways the narrator is affected by a certain girl: "When you're near me I have difficulty concentrating, When you're near me I have difficulty respirating." But on other songs, Partridge looks beyond romance and to the larger world.

Real by Reel seems to eerily predict the rise of reality television, but Andy was probably writing about the rise of Big Brother style privacy invasions. Witness the final line of the song: "Now I lay me down to sleep / Knowing that your lenses peep / Now I eat my daily bread / And into the tape spool I'll be fed." It's a catchy tune, with a sprightly solo from Gregory. In Roads Girdle the Globe Andy likens driving to a religious experience, but given his views on religion, it's hard to see this as positive. And Complicated Game, which Partridge sings with short staccato breaths as if someone is patting him on the chest while he performs, is seemingly about the pointlessness of divisive politics (hmmm, sound timely?). Like Swift before him, Andy masks his views in allegory: "A little girl asked me should she part her hair upon the left, no / A little girl asked me should she part her hair upon the right, no / Someone else will come along and move it."

Outside World confirms his disenchantment with the state of existence. The song's narrator is enamored of a woman who's oblivious to the troubles of the world. Instead of condemning this ostrich-like behavior, Partridge wants to join her: "Just make a little space for me," he sings, "I'm coming in."

Andy's contributions are rounded out by fluffier fare. Scissor Man is a fun and creepy take on the story from the morbid children's story collection Struwwelpeter. It's a great song. Millions, however, is Andy's worst song on the album, is musically repetitive, with mostly inscrutable lyrics about China.

As for Colin, his two afforementioned singles, Life Begins At the Hop and Making Plans For Nigel, are mini-masterpieces. On the former, Gregory's guitar sound plays a prominent part right away right away and "ooh-ooh-ooh-oo-oo" background vocals add to the party atmosphere. It's a song about going out and listening to music. The latter is a bit deeper, concerning the titular Nigel, whose parents want him to get a factory job. Colin's dismay at the prospect of a life of blue collar labor is palpable, though Nigel himself remains silent on the subject. The album's third, final, and least commercially successful single is Ten Feet Tall, a charming little love song with not one but two great guitar solos.

Colin finishes his contributions with two lesser tunes that are repetitive of themes in Making Plans for Nigel, Day In Day Out (about the monotony of a factory job) and That Is the Way (a list of parental dos and don'ts). Both are both musically uncompelling, though the fugelhorn on the latter is a nice preview of XTC's mannered future.

Overall, Drums and Wires is an enjoyable album that feels somewhat like an unfinished sketch. It sounds great, and the production by a then-untested Steve Lillywhite (he'd go on to produce Talking Heads, U2, Dave Matthews Band, and Peter Gabriel among others) is strong, but as an XTC album it's not quite there yet. in some places the pop instincts are there, and in others the lyrical complexity is, but rarely do they meet. It wasn't until XTC could combine the two consistently that their true brilliance would emerge.

Grade: B-
Fave Song: Ten Feet Tall

In XTC

2010-03-21T03:49:00.003-05:00

For one shining moment in 1976, everyone thought the band Klaatu were the reunited Beatles in disguise. It turned out to be a false rumor based on some far-fetched and not-so-far-fetched coincidences, as well as some vague musical similarities.

What does that have to do with anything?

When my dad first told me about this, on a summer day in 1996, I wondered why more bands didn't release music under pseudonyms, just for the fun and freedom of it.

And then my dad told me about the British band XTC, who in the '80s had released an album as The Psonic Psunspots. He described their "Dukes of Stratosphere" album as Beatlesque and Beach Boyish. Sufficiently intrigued, I asked if I could borrow it sometime. But my dad didn't own the album; he'd checked it out from the Bloomington Public Library back when it was released in 1987.

That was the first time I'd heard of XTC, let alone the Psonic Psunspots, but I had a new mission. I vowed to find that record.

I was initially frustrated in my search. The Interweb was still in its infancy, so my only course of action was to scour the vinyl shops (I figured it was a fat chance that the record would be available on CD, but that didn't stop me from checking at Best Buy anyway). No luck, no Psonic Psunspots. At first I blamed the smallishness of my hometown, but when I repeated my search in the larger Quad Cities (where I was attending college), I was similarly skunked.

As my fruitless quest went on, I bought my first XTC album instead, 1989's Oranges and Lemons, at Target for $5.99. I loved it immediately, and from there, the dominoes fell. In quick succession I got Waxworks (a collection of early hits) and Nonsuch (1992) and then began filling in the band's back catalog.

But the Psonic Psunspots continued to elude me. It wasn't until I got my hands on the All Music Guide that I discovered exactly why. There was no band by that name. My dad had actually gotten his facts reversed. XTC's psychedelic stand-ins were The Dukes of Stratosphear. The ALBUM was called Psonic Psunspot (if you look at the cover to the right you can see why my dad got confused; the album title is above the band name).

The next chance I got, I bought Chips from the Chocolate Fireball, the CD compilation of that album and its predecessor, 25 o'Clock, at Deadpan Alley, a record store in Normal, Illinois. I remember I purchased that and The Clash's London Calling at the same time. The hipster clerk was suitably impressed.

Since then, XTC have been firmly enshrined as one of my top 10 musical obsessions of all time, along with The Beatles, The Monkees, "Weird Al" Yankovic, Talking Heads, Prince, Billy Joel, Elton John, They Might Be Giants, Matthew Sweet, and The Beach Boys. If you've been following 3 Minutes, 49 Seconds for awhile you'll note that the first 4 have been the subject of every-album-reviewed projects. Now, XTC is going to be the fifth.

I've already got a nice little headstart. I covered their 1977 debut, White Music, in 2004. Their second album, Go 2 (1978), served as the band's Rock Bottom entry. Oranges and Lemons and Wasp Star (2000) reviews came as part of my yearly one-decade-ago series. Finally, I wrote about their 1999 live box set Transistor Blast in my college newspaper. Over the next few months I'll fill in the gaps. I'm looking forward to spending some quality time with each of their records, and sharing the results with you.

Oh, and about 6 years after my dad introduced me to XTC, he and I attended a remaindered book sale at the Bloomington Public Library. They were selling off most of their vinyl, and there, for the price of $1.oo, was The Dukes of Stratosphear's Psonic Psunspot, the very copy my dad had checked out in 1987. They had a couple of Klaatu albums as well, but I passed.

An Open Letter to "Weird Al" Yankovic

2010-03-16T03:49:00.002-05:00

Dear Mr. Yankovic,

Do you remember me? I last wrote you in 1988, suggesting that you parody Robert Palmer's hit Simply Irresistible using the title Simply Indigestible. I don't blame you for not taking my suggestion, but I still think it would have been pretty funny.

I'm writing now because I've just spent the past 5 months reviewing every single one of your albums on my blog, and I've got some thoughts and advice I'd like to share with you.

Let me start by thanking you for the joy you've brought me over the years. There have been laughs, of course, but you also introduced me to the kaleidoscopic menu of pop music. I'm guessing my tastes would be much more limited if not for your genre-hopping. Viewing your career in whole has been like taking a tour through the last 27 years of pop music history.

But I've also noted some disturbing trends in your career that I'd like to address. And remember, all of this is meant in a constructive way. I'm here to help.

1) Get some new themes. Everybody knows you have a food and TV fixation. I counted; in your catalog there are 31 songs that reference food and 25 that feature some mention of TV. You've even released compilation albums on each theme. There's nothing wrong with having motifs in your work, but I think this is excessive. The most disturbing repeated theme in your career is more under the radar; it's what I call the Crazy List. You know what I'm talking about. You pick a subject and then just list absurd events related to it. It's not that great of an idea in the first place, yet you've done it 24 times! That's an average of 2 per album. It's time to retire that schtick, or at least use it more sparingly. Oh, and you know there's more than just the first person perspective, right? I mean, a couple of your songs use the second, and a few less use the third, but the majority of them are all about I, I, I.

On a positive note, keep doing the polka medleys. I love 'em.

2) Deepen your sense of humor. Al, you're 50 years old now. Believe me, I'm all for staying young at heart, but often you're still writing jokes for 12 year-olds. I understand that this is part of your ongoing appeal, but you've shown yourself capable of so much more. In fact, your first album had some examples of sly social commentary (Happy Birthday, Buckingham Blues). And the songs where you tone it down a little bit (Frank's 2000" TV, Airline Amy, Skipper Dan, and others without people's names in the titles) are often your best. Don't be afraid to add some complexity and layers to your humor; don't always go for the easiest, basest joke. Specifically, would it kill you to tone down the violence (I'm thinking The Night Santa Went Crazy here) and fat jokes?

3) Remedy your cultural short-sightedness. Speaking of base, there's a small number of your songs that make you seem kind of like an ignorant dick. Or at least someone not aware of his own privilege as a white, heterosexual, protestant, and upper class male. So, Amish Paradise, Pretty Fly For a Rabbi, Whatever You Like? Throw them out. Dropping the names of other countries because they're "funny"? Forget it. I hope that you realized this yourself, because Canadian Idiot was an awesome condemnation of jingoism.

4) Stop stealing musical ideas. Before I embarked on this reviewing project, I would have defended you to anyone, pointing to your non-parody songs as a proof-positive of your limitless creativity. I've been especially enamored of your style parodies, where you write a song that sounds like it could have been by a certain artist, but is really completely original (Dare To Be Stupid, You Make Me, Everything You Know Is Wrong). But lo and behold I discover that many of these songs bear an uncanny resemblance to pre-existing songs. Take The Biggest Ball of Twine In Minnesota for example. Lyrically, it's brilliant. Musically, it's nearly a dead ringer for Harry Chapin's 300,000 Pounds of Bananas. Really, Al? Really? It kind of sours me on the whole thing. There are at least a dozen other similar examples in your song catalog. I don't mind so much that you pay homage, but in every case the only songwriter listed is one Al Yankovic. That means you are taking credit for musical ideas that were not your own. I'm surprised you haven't found yourself in a George Harrison vs. The Chiffons sort of situation because of this. My advice: Cut it out.

In conclusion, I'd like to thank you again for your work. I can tell you have great fun doing it, and that goes a long way. Please keep challenging yourself as you head into the future. Oh, and here's a list of your own songs that I think you should hold up as a standard.

Sincerely,
Paul Allen
A Close Personal Friend of Al

Rock Solid: "Weird Al" Yankovic

2010-03-15T03:49:00.002-05:00

"If you only own one album by "Weird Al" Yankovic it's gotta be [insert masterpiece here]."

Welcome to Rock Solid, where we fill in the blank. Our goal is to pseudo-scientifically determine the best, the beloved, the most classic album in an artist's catalog.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources. The All Music Guide provides the professional critical point-of-view and Amazon.com offers the fan perspective (because most people who choose to review albums on Amazon are adoring fans of the artist in question). The album with the highest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the best. Rolling Stone serves as a tiebreaker in many cases and as a pain in the ass in others.

An artist's entire body of work is eligible, with one exception: No compilations (i.e. greatest hits). In each case, I'll also share my personal favorite album by the artist in question, as if you care.

* * *

If anyone is qualified to tell you about "Weird Al" Yankovic's Rock Solid, I am. I've spent the last 5 months listening to and writing about every note Al has recorded.

And yet, I'm completely baffled by the fan and critic choice. There's no way I would have picked 1992's Off the Deep End as Al's best album. When I reviewed it, I gave it a C+, which puts it no better than 7th place in his catalog. And yet, that's the clear winner. It got a 4.5 star rating from the All Music Guide, and the same from Amazon.com reviewers. Its closest competition was 1984's In 3-D, which clocked the same AMG rating, but a half star less from Amazon reviewers (and a much smaller percentage of 5 star ratings as well). Even Worse, from 1988, came in a distant third.

But I want to trust my Rock Solid-determining methods, so, with a slightly open (ajar?) mind, I'll let the critics and fans try to convince me that Off the Deep End is Al masterpiece.

Barry Weber's amateurish All Music Guide review doesn't do the trick. In fact, it nearly cements me in the opposing view. He finds Smells Like Nirvana, a song about not understanding Kurt Cobain's lyrics, to be the height of "cleverness." No, it's not. He also calls Trigger Happy, When I Was Your Age, and You Don't Love Me Anymore Al's "best originals ever." Well, I'll give you the last one, and reluctantly support the first one, but When I Was Your Age? No, uh-uh. It's a rip-off of Don Henley and grandpas everywhere. Weber also labels Taco Grande a "satire." Satire is a form of ridicule, and I fail to see what a list of Mexican food (for that's all that Taco Grande really is) is ridiculing.

It's never a good thing when you're relying on Amazon.com reviewers for logical and well-articulated criticism, but let's see what they have to say about Off the Deep End. Well, no less than three of them (Lawrance Bernabo, Cooper Cornelius, and Memoria) declared it Al's best work. Scott Basler said, "This is my favorite CD EVER of ALL TIME!" James Simpson titled his review, "greatest album ever made in the history of music" and concludes his review with, "Unless you are deaf you will want this album." So, um, yeah.

Matthew Paul Fryman declares the album to be "Pure genious [sic]" and Matt Sz claims that "Weird Al's brand of magic has transformed a previously un-musicked person into an avid listener." Another Matthew brazenly plagiarizes the All Music Guide review, word for word! It probably says something about Barry Weber's work that it doesn't seem completely out of place there. Finally, brad78 writes that, "Off the Deep End is a monolithic, paradigm shifting work of undeniable genius that, because of its unparalled crafstmanship, and razor sharp humor, will and must stand alone in the pantheon of pop music." It's never a good thing when a glowingly positive review could easily be mistaken for sarcasm. At least he spelled "genius" right.

At any rate, none of this justifies the existence of the New Kids on the Block-copping The White Stuff or the Milli Vanilli parody that fails in any way to make fun of the fact that they were musical frauds. Nor does it forgive the fact that the music for When I Was Your Age and I Was Only Kidding is ripped off from other artists. I do have some affection for Off the Deep End; and I loved it when I was 14, but it's not Al's best by any stretch.

This is what happens when you put your fate in the hands of Amazon.com reviewers. God love them, but while reading through all 42 (!) 5 star reviews I think my IQ went down by about 5 points.

My choice for Al's best? In 3-D all the way. There are no weak links in the parodies and the originals are all inspired. The humor is by turns absurd and over-the-top, but never stupid, and there's even some subtle social commentary in Nature Trail to Hell and Gonna Buy Me a Condo. AND it marks the first appearance of the polka medley. Trust me on this one.

Rock Solid: David Bowie

2010-03-11T03:49:00.008-06:00

"If you only own one album by David Bowie it's gotta be [insert masterpiece here]."

Welcome to Rock Solid, where we fill in the blank. Our goal is to pseudo-scientifically determine the best, the beloved, the most classic album in an artist's catalog.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources. The All Music Guide provides the professional critical point-of-view and Amazon.com offers the fan perspective (because most people who choose to review albums on Amazon are adoring fans of the artist in question). The album with the highest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the best. Rolling Stone serves as a tiebreaker in many cases and as a pain in the ass in others.

The declared winner will be subjected to the Thriller Test (do I need to explain the name?), a set of 4 criteria an album should meet to be considered a masterpiece. Those are 1) at least 3 hits, 2) great album tracks that sh/could have been hits, 3) no filler, and 4) memorable cover art.

An artist's entire body of work is eligible, with one exception: No compilations (i.e. greatest hits). In each case, I'll also share my personal favorite album by the artist in question, as if you care.

* * *

Shows what I know. Before researching I'd have told you that David Bowie's Rock Solid was definitely going to be Ziggy Stardust, the 1972 album that catapulted him to fame. I was wrong; that record actually came in second place. The real honors go to Ziggy's predecessor, 1971's Hunky Dory.

Bowie actually had 6 albums in the running. In addition to the two I've already mentioned, Station to Station (1976), Low, Heroes (both 1977), and Scary Monsters (1980) also got high marks. Of these, only Hunky Dory received perfect 5 star ratings from both of my sources, the All Music Guide and Amazon.com. Let's get to specifics.

Stephen Thomas Erlewine, the grand poobah of the All Music Guide, calls Hunky Dory a "kaleidoscopic array of pop styles, tied together only by Bowie's sense of vision." And then he really gets his prose revved up, labeling the album "a sweeping, cinematic mélange of high and low art, ambiguous sexuality, kitsch, and class." Or something like that.

Fan reviewers on Amazon.com got themselves in a similar lather. Eric N. Andrews claims, "This album still rewrote the rules of pop music." Pieter calls it a "timeless classic." Jerayr Haleblian writes, "I would probably rank it as the single best album of the '70s." Ericross asks and answers, "Want to make an album? Here's your textbook!" Adios_kansas remarks, "Nothing gets me through the day quite like Hunky Dory. Red Bull aside." Morton writes, "Hunky Dory by David Bowie is easily the best lyricly [sic] written album of all time!"And Rygel concludes, "It's very easy to get into, relatively poppy and brilliant." I've always wanted to be relatively brilliant.

So sure, it's a great record, but is it Bowie's BEST? Ruben I. Thaker informs us that "a recent British survey of 'greatest records' accurately and surprisingly rated this the highest of Bowie's masterpieces." Howzat titles his Hunky Dory review "Bowie's Undisputed Masterpiece", heaps generous praise on the album and then says, "I'm not sure if I'd call it his best album but its up there with his finest efforts." Wha-huh? Both of these comments highlight the need for a clear definition of the word "masterpiece." Does it mean a piece by a master, or a piece that is master of all others? I tend to think the latter, therefore there can only be ONE masterpiece, right?

But I digress. Let's put Hunky Dory to the Thriller Test.

1) At least 3 hits
Hunky Dory features no less than 3 stone cold Bowie classics that even your mother will probably know. Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes is traditional and modern all at once. It's also Bowie's theme song, given how many times he has reinvented himself and his music. Plus, it'll forever be immortalized thanks to being quoted in the intro to The Breakfast Club. The piano-driven Oh! You Pretty Things and Life On Mars, with its pleading chorus, also helped to define the Bowie aesthetic (the fixations with androgyny and science fiction, to be specific). Pass

2) Great album tracks
Queen Bitch has gained some notoriety but you're not likely to find it on a Bowie best of. Nonetheless, it's a fun rocker, and where else could you find Bowie copping lines from Disney's Cinderella (bippity boppity bam)? Kooks sounds is equally good but couldn't be more different than Queen Bitch. It's less a rocker than it is an old-English pub song. Quicksand is a pretty power ballad complete with strings. Song for Bob Dylan only makes sense when you know that the revered Dylan of the early-to-mid '60s was in an artistic wilderness in 1971, culminating in the awful Self Portrait album (the song addresses this in the line "Then we lost your train of thought, the paintings are all your own"). Plus, the tune also contains probably the most fitting description of Dylan's singing style as you'll find ("a voice like sand and glue"). Finally, The Bewlay Brothers and acoustic tour-de-force with impenetrable, imagery-filled lyrics. It's captivating until the weird singalong Pink Floyd ending. Pass

3. No filler
This is where Hunky Dory, in my opinion, falters. Fill Your Heart is a cover of a song written by Biff Rose and Paul Williams and previously recorded by, get this, Tiny Tim! It's styled as '20s jazz. Bowie gives it his best falsetto, but it's still fluff. Andy Warhol has an appropriately experimental intro and a great acoustic guitar part from Mick Ronson, but is far from a classic (Bowie later portayed Warhol in the film Basquiat). And the brief 8 Line Poem, which segues from the end of Oh! You Pretty Things, is similarly indulgent. But to make this a little less subjective on my part let's hear from Rolling Stone's John Mendelsohn. In his 1971 review of the album he feels that Hunky Dory "falters" on Andy Warhol and Song for Bob Dylan and writes in his conclusion that Bowie has "a couple of pretentious tendencies he'd do handsomely to curtail through the composition of an album's-worth of material." Fail

4) Memorable cover art
I'd say the unnatural color and fuzzy androgyny of the cover definitely puts it on the list of most iconic Bowie images. Pass

So Hunky Dory gets admirably close, but doesn't quite pass the Thriller Test. Thus, I can't fully support the fans and critics on this one. I'm still more inclined to give the nod to Ziggy Stardust. It's short on hits, but doesn't have a weak moment. Or consider 1983's Let's Dance: Four huge hits (the title track, Modern Love, China Girl, Cat People (Putting Out Fire)), Stevie Ray Vaughn on guitar, and great cover art. My personal favorite, however, is actually Bowie's Rock Bottom, Never Let Me Down. Shows what I know.

Author's Note: This is album review #258.

257. "Weird Al" Yankovic: Internet Leaks EP (2009)

2010-03-07T03:49:00.001-06:00

One of the modern day raps against "Weird Al" has been a lack of timeliness. Given the increased speed of media, the songs and topics Al parodies can become passe by the time he gets around to putting out an album. Seemingly acknowledging this, Al has spend the last year releasing advance singles from his next album. In turn, those songs have been packaged together as a digital EP called Internet Leaks.

Though this solution may allow the songs to be more topical, it doesn't necessarily make them better (as we'll see) and it certainly doesn't increase excitement for an album. Who wants to buy a CD when they've already paid for half of the songs?

Parodies
Whatever You Like is a parody of T.I.'s 2008 hit...Whatever You Like. If I'm not mistaken this marks the first time Al has used the same title and lyrical concept in a parody. In T.I.'s song he promises his girl all sorts of great things (a private jet, a 5 million dollar home, a Bentley, etc.). Al does the same thing in his version, the difference being that he's ballin' on a budget. So he promises things like ramen noodles, a trip to the laundromat, a shopping spree at Wal-Mart, bus tokens, a dinner at White Castle, and a pair of thrift store jeans.

The joke behind the song is the same as nearly all of Al's rap parodies: A boastful rap from someone who really has nothing to boast about. And he's done it better elsewhere. More disturbing is the seeming contempt of those living along the poverty line. It's not especially funny coming from someone who is likely a millionaire, nor is it easy to ignore the racial implications (Al's parodying a song by a black artist, and making fun of the economically disadvantaged, a group into which many black Americans fall). In that light, the mention of government cheese is especially damning. Not cool.

Style Parodies
CNR borrows the blues metal stomp of The White Stripes to tell ridiculous tall tales about the actor Charles Nelson Reilly. Reilly died in 2007, and this song could be seen as a tribute if it wasn't so mean-spiritied in places (Al claims, among other things, that he had a third nipple, had sex with a manatee, and liked to hit people with a shovel). Who knows, maybe Reilly would have loved the song, but I think a more straight-forward bio would have been just as interesting. Afterall, this guy had a successful career on Broadway, played Hoodoo the wizard in an awful, awful Sid and Marty Kroft show called Lidsville, was a game show and Tonight Show regular, and did a voice for SpongeBob SquarePants.

Craigslist takes a Doors groove and puts it with a Crazy List of things you can get / do on the titular Internet site. The list is fairly funny, including setting up a strange rendez-vous, giving away a garbage can full of styrofoam peanuts (but not the can itself), or writing an open letter to a rude barista, and the vocal parody of Jim Morrisson is right on.

Ringtone is a Queen soundalike about a guy who bought a bad ringtone that everyone hates. The lyrics are not especially funny, but they're somewhat salvaged by the music itself.

That leaves Skipper Dan as the only true selling point of the EP. It's a power pop rocker about a promising Julliard-trained actor who can't get work and is reduced to telling bad puns on the the jungle cruise ride at Disneyland (I've been on this ride and the jokes are pretty funny, but imagine telling them over and over all day...). The song details his hopes and dreams (a film with Quentin Tarentino, a photo shoot with Annie Liboweitz, awards at Sundance) and how they've given way to small potato monotony. The song owes an obvious debt to Fountains Of Wayne, not just musically, but lyically as well. Like a FoW tune, the song finds the pathos in the main character's story without belittling him. This is a big accomplishment for Al, who almost always goes for the easy joke. If Al wanted a more mature direction for his career, Skipper Dan wouldn't be a bad place to start.

Conclusion
If Al's true goal was to be more timely with his parodies, this is a curious selection of songs, ill-suited to that purpose. Only Whatever You Like was topical. In the other cases, sure ringtones and Craigslist are hot topics, why use the musical styles of artists who were popular 40 years ago? And The White Stripes are still sort of popular, but why make the song about a semi-obscure actor whose popularity peaked in the '70s? As a simple collection of songs it fares better, but only slightly.

References to food: 1
References to TV: 1
Grade: C-
Fave Song: Skipper Dan

"Weird Al" Yankovic - "You're Pitiful" (2006)

2010-03-06T03:49:00.014-06:00

Weird Al's career is littered with parodies that didn't get released because of artist or label refusal. Thus we've been spared Snack All Night (Michael Jackson's Black or White), Chicken Pot Pie (Wings' Live and Let Die), Laundry Day (The Offspring's Come Out and Play), Gee, I'm a Nerd (The Beatles' Free as a Bird), I'll Repair For You (The Rembrandts' I'll Be There for You), Fast Food (Alanis Morissette's Thank U), Bad Date (Daniel Powter's Bad Day).

While working on Straight Outta Lynwood, Al recorded You're Pitiful, a parody of James Blunt's ubiquitous 2005 single You're Beautiful. Before the album was released, Blunt's record company protested. Because he had Blunt's permission, Al released it on the Internet for free download instead.

Al's version features a narrator who dresses down an unnamed "you", a poor schlub who doesn't have a lot going for him. Among other things, he can't dance, get a date, has the nickname Farty-Pants, works at a convenience store, is a Trekkie and a video game junkie, and still lives with his mother.

Actually, lyrically, it's along the same the same lines as White and Nerdy, the song Al recorded quickly to take You're Pitiful's place on Straight Outta Lynwood. Seeing that You're Pitiful is pretty much just a serviceable parody and White and Nerdy is transcendent, I guess it's actually a good thing that Atlantic Records refused.

Rock Solid: R.E.M.

2010-03-02T03:49:00.021-06:00

"If you only own one album by R.E.M. it's gotta be [insert masterpiece here]."

Welcome to Rock Solid, where we fill in the blank. Our goal is to pseudo-scientifically determine the best, the beloved, the most classic album in an artist's catalog.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources. The All Music Guide provides the professional critical point-of-view and Amazon.com offers the fan perspective (because most people who choose to review albums on Amazon are adoring fans of the artist in question). The album with the highest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the best. Rolling Stone serves as a tiebreaker in many cases and as a pain in the ass in others.

An artist's entire body of work is eligible, with one exception: No compilations (i.e. greatest hits). In each case, I'll also share my personal favorite album by the artist in question, as if you care.

* * *

I've just started this new feature and I'm already I'm questioning my methods. It's R.E.M.'s fault. See, by the ratings, one album stands above all others with a perfect 10 out of 10 rating. That would be their 1983 debut, Murmur. By no means do I deny its quality, but my research has given me misgivings about declaring it their definitive best.

I'm not going to explain just why yet. That's just what we call an introductory teaser.

Let's look at the statistics first. The All Music Guide bestowed perfect 5 star ratings on three of the band's albums: Murmur, its 1984 follow-up Reckoning, and 1992's Automatic For the People (which featured the hits Everybody Hurts and Man In the Moon). Amazon.com breaks up the logjam, with only Murmur getting the full five stars. The other two had meager 4.5 averages. So that puts Murmur as the clear winner, especially when you consider that 150 of the 169 reviewers gave the album 5 stars. That's an unprecedented 89%.

Without a doubt, Murmur is a great album, from the immortal opener Radio Free Europe, to
the ringing Talk About the Passion, to Catapult, still one of the band's most thrilling songs. All Music Guide's Stephen Thomas Erlewine praises the "remarkably accomplished songwriting." Amazon.com reviewers broke out the hyperbole. Evan Streb says, "It's the greatest album ever made ever in the history of music since the beginning of time." Dale Chapman finds Murmur to be "a sanctified relic. The songs breathe life, poignantly document what it felt like to be a young person toward the end of the 20th century." And C.Garces claims, "This album should be mandatory to every human being, there would be no war in the world."

Others are on to my game. Prymel thinks Murmur "completely dwarfs everything else in the R.E.M. catalog" and Brian Rubendall paraphrases the Rock Solid motto:"If you own only one R.E.M. album, this should be the one."

So what's the problem? Well, in my mind, a band's masterpiece should be an album that's great outside the context of anything (genre, the rest of the artist's catalog, time period). Of course removing all context is impossible, but when a lot of the praise heaped upon a certain album mentions a certain context, that gives me pause.

In the case of Murmur, it's the fact that the album not only represented something so completely different from what was popular at the time, but that it predicted what was about to become popular. An inordinate number of reviews, both professional and amateur, picked up on this. The All Music Guide's bio of the band opens with the line: "R.E.M. mark the point when post-punk turned into alternative rock." Rolling Stone's review of the 2008 deluxe edition calls Murmur the album that invented 'alternative rock.' (giving short shrift to The Replacements, Husker Du, and other bands who married a punk spirit with melodic song structures.)

Many Amazon.com reviewers took the same line of reasoning while praising Murmur. Vinny Mac recalls: "I remember playing this CD for a friend of mine last year and his response? - 'That's not that original. It's just average, highly melodic pop-rock'. This is true, but when I told him it was made in 1983, his jaw dropped." An anonymous reviewer writes: "To fully appreciate the beauty of Murmur, you have to remember the creative wasteland from which it emerged. Between the macho, guitar-posturing of hair metal and the pretentious pap of new wave, the only real alternative in 1982 (remember?) was the punk scene. While many found an oasis in the underground-spirit of hardcore,those of us who occasionally enjoyed some semblance of melody and songcraft were still without a voice." Rocky Racoon simply titles his review "Resuscitated the Heartbeat of Music"

While I don't necessarily disagree with any of that, I also don't know that it automatically makes Murmur R.E.M.'s best album. Most significant? Sure. But as anyone who has read an old book that's considered "significant" and been baffled by it knows, cultural impact and great art aren't always the same thing. As I said before, Murmur is a great album, but it's not necessarily an original one (certainly not as original as some of the above reviewers might believe). The early R.E.M. songs had a direct lineage from the 60's melodic sounds of The Byrds (Laughing) Beach Boys (Pilgrimage) and especially the melancholy '70s jangle of Big Star (Talk About the Passion, Moral Kiosk, Sitting Still, etc.).

My personal favorite R.E.M. album (just behind 1996 dark horse New Adventures In Hi-Fi) is Automatic For the People, and one can make a good case for it being the true Rock Solid. See, Rolling Stone, my usual tiebreaker, was actually a tiemaker in this case. Steve Pond's original 1983 review of Murmur bestowed it with 4 stars, but the aforementioned 2008 review pumped it up to 5. That's a 4.5 average. Automatic For the People, on the other hand, got a 5 star rating from the magazine at the time of its release. If you're fast with math then you realize that makes it 14.5/15 for Murmur and 14.5/15 for Automatic.

And consider that Erlewine is not unequivocal in his praise of Murmur. He actually writes, "R.E.M. may have made albums as good as Murmur in the years following its release, but they never again made anything that sounded quite like it" and then in his Automatic For the People review he calls it a masterpiece and says, "R.E.M. have never been as emotionally direct as they are on Automatic for the People, nor have they ever created music quite as rich and timeless, and while the record is not an easy listen, it is the most rewarding record in their oeuvre."

The reason Automatic For the People is my favorite is the sheer number of classic tunes (Everybody Hurts, Man In the Moon, Find the River, Drive, Nightswimming, Sweetness Follows, The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight). It's an assured album, an excellent balance between the early R.E.M. sound and their later, more pop-oriented one. It's by turns absurd and fun and deeply affecting, and it feels completely original, save for the purposefully derivative bits (the "hey kids / rock and roll" line on Drive is from David Essex's hit Rock On and the title and vocal on The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight of course recall The Tokens' The Lion Sleeps Tonight).

But it's not R.E.M.'s Rock Solid because when we turn to my final tiebreaker, the percentage of 5 star reviews on Amazon.com, a winner emerges by a nose hair. I already told you about Murmur's 89%. Automatic For the People's score is 302 out of 369. That's 82%.

So, my methods may have let me down slightly on this debut outing, but I'm going to stick with them. Though it's fun to consider as an academic exercise, thankfully, there's no such rule that you can only own one album by any given artist. So why not get both?

Best. Album. Ever.

2010-03-01T03:49:00.007-06:00

The sun is rising and a new day is dawning.

I've spent the past 17 months on this blog researching, listening to, and writing about "bad" albums. In case you weren't following along, the Rock Bottom project found me picking a musician and then determining which of their albums was the worst in the eyes of critics and fans. Though it sounds somewhat torturous, it was actually a blast uncovering the various reasons why an album was so hated, deciding whether I disagreed or not, and then writing about the whole process.

It took me 16 of those 17 months to come up with the logical companion project (I never claimed to be a quick thinker). Now that we know the worst of an artist, why not look at their best?

This, I'm discovering, brings up a whole different set of issues. How do we quantify what is ultimately an opinion? Sales? Critical reaction? Cultural impact? Fan response? My solution is to look at all of them. I'm going to rely on my trusty sources, the All Music Guide for the critical perspective, and Amazon.com's user reviews for the fan side of things. Rolling Stone will be thrown in as a tiebreaker. And in an added bit of egomania, I'll be sharing my own personal favorite album by each artist.

The line-up is going to be the same 23 artists for whom I wrote Rock Bottom entries: Beach Boys, Beatles, David Bowie, Elvis Costello, Jay-Z, Billy Joel, Elton John, Madonna, Monkees, Tom Petty, Prince, Paul Simon, Rolling Stones, Bruce Springsteen, Talking Heads, They Might Be Giants, James Taylor, U2, Van Halen, Weezer, XTC, and "Weird Al" Yankovic.

And since the first Rock Bottom featured R.E.M., that's where we'll start this time as well. Oh, and the name of this new feature? Rock Solid, of course (thanks to the wife for that one).

It starts tomorrow. Thanks for reading!

256. "Weird Al" Yankovic: Straight Outta Lynwood (2006)

2010-02-27T03:49:00.000-06:00

Straight Outta Lynwood, Al's 12th (and newest for now) album is, thankfully, a minor return to form. After getting bogged down in increasingly uninspired parodies and increasingly juvenile humor, Al reigns in some of those bad tendencies, remembers that humor doesn't have to be completely devoid of social commentary, and delivers his best album since Alapalooza.

Parodies
White & Nerdy, the album opener, is a parody of Chamillionaire's Ridin'. Right away a renewed energy is apparent. Yes, the lyrical conceit (a narrator brags about the breadth and depth of his social ineptitude) is similar to that of All About the Pentiums, but it's nonetheless clever, and Al is fully committed. As a measure of the song's cultural impact, I actually saw students in the middle school where I teach wearing shirts sporting the title phrase.

Canadian Idiot, a take on Green Day's American Idiot, at first seems like one of Al's annoying blanket cultural generalization songs (see Amish Paradise, Pretty Fly for a Rabbi, and Genius In France). The song does have that aspect, as Al lists the usual Canada stereotypes (they like beer and hockey, etc.) but it also goes deeper. There's actually some lyrical evidence that Al is actually taking a sarcastic dig at xenophobic American "patriots." Witness the line: "Sure they got their national health care / cheaper meds, low crime rates, and clean air / Then again well they got Celine Dion." The call for a preemptive strike at the end of the song could be seen as a dig against the war-happy Bush administration.

Confessions Part III, Al's version of Usher's Confessions Part II mostly mocks the fact that a song called Confessions needs a sequel. It's a Crazy List song, of all of the ways the narrator has done his woman wrong, but a fairly funny one.

Things aren't so great on the album's other two parodies. Do I Creep You Out is a stalker song along the lines of the Even Worse classic Melanie, but it has one big problem: The original (American Idol Taylor Hicks' Do I Make You Proud) is not a good song to start with. When I listen I like to think the song is about Hicks himself.

That brings us to the album's worst parody and worst song, by far. Trapped In the Drive-Thru is a way overlong (10 minutes, 45 seconds) parody of R.Kelly's 12-part "hip-hopera" Trapped In the Closet. Al's version, about a couple who goes out for an ill-fated dinner, tries to make fun of the original's level of detail, but his mistake is that he makes it the details excruciatingly boring ("so we head out the front door / Open the garage door / Then I open the car doors / And we get in those car doors"), thus committing a worse sin.

Style Parodies
The style parodies start off well with Pancreas, a mid-period Beach Boys homage in several movements. In writing an ode to the internal organ, Al shows off some in-depth research. Medical students should use the song to study. Like too many of his other style parodies, it owes a little too much to the original songs (various tunes from Pet Sounds and Smile), but for a Beach Boys fan it's thrilling nonetheless.

I'll Sue Ya is a Rage Against the Machine-type rap-rock tune. It's a Crazy List of things the narrator is going to get litigious about, including getting his finger stuck in a Coke bottle and a late pizza. There's some social commentary about a lack of self-responsibility, especially in the opening line, "I sued Taco Bell / 'Cause I hate a half a million chalupas / And I got fat", echoing a less exaggerated lawsuit against McDonalds a few years back. Then again, maybe RATM should sue Al for ripping off their guitar riffs.

Virus Alert is yet another Crazy List song, done in the style of a glam pop band called Sparks (though to my ear there's some ELO thrown in). The list is of the consequences of a nasty computer virus is sort of ho-hum, and the song is only saved by the spirited guitar.

Close But No Cigar is a dead ringer for the band Cake, more specifically their song Short Skirt/Long Jacket. It's about a guy who's looking for the perfect girl, literally. In each verse he dismisses a different girl for a different reason (one always uses "infer" when she means
"imply", one owns Joe Dirt on DVD, one has earlobes of different sizes). Overall, it's pretty funny, even with the tasteless pop culture similes ("she got me all choked up like Mama Cass").

Finally, there's Don't Download This Song, an overblown ballad making fun of celebrity charity singles (We Are the World, Do They Know It's Christmas?, etc.) and the ultimately self-serving and sanctimonious nature of them. This one is about illegal downloading, obviously, and exaggerates the severity of possible punishments. Of course it wouldn't be complete without the line "even Lars Ulrich knows its wrong."

Polka Medley
Polkarama, the latest in a long line of hit song medleys done polka style, features: Let's Get It Started (Black Eyed Peas), Take Me Out (Franz Ferdinand), Beverly Hills (Weezer), Speed of Sound (Coldplay), Float On (Modest Mouse), Feel Good Inc. (Gorillaz), Don't Cha (Pussycat Dolls), Somebody Told Me (The Killers), Candy Shop (50 Cent), Drop It Like It's Hot (Snoop Dogg), Pon de Replay (Rihanna), and Goldigger (Kanye West).

What The?!
Weasel Stomping Day is a movie musical style head-scratcher about a holiday where people murder weasels. As if that premise wasn't bad enough, the sound effects of crunching bones and high pitched squeals make the song completely tasteless. I'm guessing PETA has Al on their hit list now.

References to TV: 0
References to food: 3
Grade: C+
Fave Song: White & Nerdy

Rock Bottom: Jay-Z

2010-02-23T12:24:00.002-06:00

The one constant in every established artist's oeuvre is the bad album, the one that's reviled by both fans and critics. Those unlovable albums are the ones this feature, Rock Bottom, is concerned with.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources, the All Music Guide (for the critical point-of-view) and Amazon.com (for the fan perspective*). The album with the lowest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the worst. I may not always agree with the choice, and my reviews will reflect that. I'll also offer a considered alternative. Finally, there are some limits. The following types of albums don't count: 1) b-sides or remix compilations, 2) live albums, 3) albums recorded when the band was missing a vital member, and 4) forays into a different genres (i.e. classical).

*A note about Amazon.com. I consider this the fan perspective, because most people who choose to review albums on this site are adoring fans of the artist in question.

* * *

Shawn Carter's last 11 releases (every album since 1998's Vol.2...Hard Knock Life) has gone to number one, but don't let that fool you into thinking they were all created equal. There's a clear hierarchy, and the low man is undoubtedly 2004's collaboration with R. Kelly, Unfinished Business. However, that's not Jay-Z's Rock Bottom, mostly because he only deserves half the blame. So which album is the next-most-hated?

When the chips fell out, there were really two contenders for Jay-Z's worst. One was 2002's double-disc sequel The Blueprint 2: The Gift and the Curse. The other was his 2006 return from "retirement" Kingdom Come. Statistically, the two are dead even. Kingdom Come gets the low marks in the All Music Guide with 2.5 stars, while B2 gets a half star more. Rolling Stone flipped that, giving B2 3 stars to KC's 3.5. Finally, Amazon.com reviewers gave the two identical 3.5 star averages. That adds up to 9.5 each. The tiebreaker? Well, when it gets this close we have to split hairs. So we look at Amazon.com and the percentage of reviewers who gave one or two star ratings. For KC it's 19%. For BP2 it's 32%. That makes The Blueprint 2 our winner by a nose.

Not that Kingdom Come gets off so easy. The All Music Guide says it's "a display of complacency and retreads. Rolling Stone's Rob Sheffield writes that "the highs are really high and the lows are really low." Amazon.com reviewer AD Guillen gets in the best dig: "Hov proves he's the Mike Jordan of the game as he comes back from retirement pushing a 45 performance when everyone paid to see 23." He's referring, of course, to Michael Jordan's return from "retirement" wearing a number 45 jersey and his subsequent failure to get the Bulls past the Orlando Magic in the 1995 NBA playoffs. A Washington Wizards reference might have been more apt.

But let's take a look at The Blueprint 2. All Music Guide's John Bush offers a strangely-worded compliment to the album, "No one else in hip-hop possesses enough power of personality to carry a 110-minute double album, and if Jay-Z can't quite manage it either, he certainly delivers some solid material in the process." So since Bush is saying Jay can't "manage" to pull off a double album, his opening line should really read: "No one in hip-hop possesses enough power of personality to carry a 110-minute double album, but Jay-Z gets close."

(Despite this mostly positive review, Bush sings a different tune in his write-up of 2003's The Black Album, where he calls The Blueprint 2 "the most deflating sequel since Star Wars: Episode I." I get his point, though The Phantom Menace was technically a prequel. Overall, I'm not a big John Bush fan).

Rolling Stone's Christian Hoard was downright giddy about the album despite his 3 star rating. Sounding more like a publicist than a critic, he writes, "Jay-Hova ups the ante, producing something of a hip-hop White Album: two discs worth of party anthems and serious songwriting." He sums The Blueprint 2 up as "one more strong record from hip-hop's most dependable voice."

So "solid material", "strong record", and a Beatles comparison? Sounds like a terrible piece of work, right? I'm sensing some dissonance here. Maybe our Amazon.com reviewers can shed some light on what exactly makes this album so unlovable.

First there are the haters, like Ken. He writes, "If any rap fans out there want to know what a commercially Straight-Wack album is, this is the one you need to take note of." Mrvillain simply says the album is a "Blueprint to people who need to stop rappin'." Anthony Ian gets a bit more specific in his review. "This album," he writes, "is a tragic example of what happens when you take a big star, big producers, big guest stars, a big video to launch it... when you have no decent material."

Many reviewers found outrage in the song '03 Bonnie and Clyde, the duet that samples Tupac's Me & My Girlfriend. Unknownhook's thoughts are typical of the complainers. He says, "Pretty sad when the best song on the CD is a RIP off of the greatest rapper of all time (who HATED Jay Z)." I don't buy this criticism at all. First, any rap fan complaining about copping hooks from other songs has zero firm ground to stand on. Second, the songs aren't similar beyond their choruses. Tupac's track was an extended metaphor about a gun. Jay's is about Beyonce. I also noticed that no one complained about Beyonce appropriating Prince's If I Was Your Girlfriend in the song.

Are you still confused about exactly why The Blueprint 2 is Jay-Z's worst album? Me too. The album certainly isn't one of my favorites, but it's not an embarrassing piece of work either. The first disc is up and down, containing the set's best (The Watcher 2,'03 Bonnie and Clyde) and worst (A Dream, I Did It My Way) songs. The second disc is solid straight through, at least until you get to the three "bonus" tracks.

While I'm on the subject, I wouldn't count Kingdom Come as the worst either. If I'm picking, 2000's Dynasty: Roc La Familia gets the nod. That album has exactly 2 good songs (I Just Wanna Love U and Streets Is Talking) and 14 mediocre-to-awful ones. That means it's only 12% worthwhile.

Even so, there's one reason I don't feel bad naming The Blueprint 2 as Jay-Z's Rock Bottom. It's a little something called The Blueprint 2.1. Yes, that's right. Mindful of the prevailing critical opinion that a double album was too much, Jay whittled it down to a single disc and tried again 4 months later. Nobody took the bait. In fact, Rolling Stone changed its positive tune. Reviewer John Caramanica said, "The new album does little to redeem its predecessor; it merely replicates its unevenness." For the All Music Guide, John Bush stepped in again this time with diminished enthusiasm. He concludes that the album, "lacks the creativity of The Blueprint."

While I love the fact that Jay-Z proved the "this double album would be better as a single album" critics wrong, I don't think that was his intention. What's the opposite of "So nice, he made it twice"?

Remake Second Take: We Are the World

2010-02-20T03:49:00.003-06:00

In case you haven't heard, a bunch of singers recently got together to make a new version of We Are the World, that classic schmaltzy superstar balled written by Michael Jackson and Lionel Richie. The impetus was to raise money for disaster relief in Haiti. I have problems with this. Well, not the disaster relief itself, but certainly the remake.

1) My criticism of the original stands: If these multimillionaires really want to help they could donate their time and money rather than recording a song asking lower and middle class people to do the work. Charity singles always seem to me to spring more from an egotistical place rather than a compassionate one.

2) From a creative standpoint, I agree with Jay-Z's recent comments about the remake. He said, "So I appreciate the efforts and everything, but We Are The World is untouchable like Thriller is untouchable." He added that he would have preferred a new song over a remake. Me too.

3) Finally, and most importantly, is the questionable artist selection. The original We Are the World featured a collection of heavyweight hitmakers, with a surprisingly small number of flashes-in-the-pan (sorry Al Jarreau and Kim Carnes). I mean, Ray Charles, Stevie Wonder, Bob Dylan, Michael Jackson, Bruce Springsteen, Billy Joel, Diana Ross, Tina Turner, and Paul Simon all on the same song?!

This may just be me and my advancing years. Maybe the kids of today are swooning over the inclusion of Pink, Akon, Lil' Wayne, Jaime Foxx, Justin Bieber, Josh Groban, Usher, Enrique Iglesias, Fergie, T-Pain, Nicole Scherzinger, Miley Cyrus, and Jennifer Hudson on the new version. But how many of these singers have established their places in pop music history? I'd argue none, with Fergie and Pink coming closest. The exception on the new version is the surprising inclusion of stodgy vets Barbara Streisand, Tony Bennett, and Celine Dion.

Of course, I think I could have done a better job of choosing singers for the project. I have three simple criteria: 1) The artist has to have an established track record and be on his or her way to a permanent spot in pop music history, 2) In keeping with the original, the artist has to be American, and 3) the racial and generational needs to stay the same, so you'll see that I tried to find modern analogues to the 20 singers on the 1985 version (my choice is in bold, with the original in parentheses). Here we go:

Will Smith (Lionel Richie), Ben Gibbard (Paul Simon), Garth Brooks (Kenny Rogers), Jay-Z (James Ingram), Beyonce (Tina Turner), Ben Folds (Billy Joel), Jennifer Hudson (Diana Ross), Alicia Keys (Dionne Warwick), Vince Gill (Willie Nelson), Wyclef Jean (Al Jarreau), Billie Jo Armstrong (Bruce Springsteen), Eddie Vedder (Kenny Loggins), Axl Rose or Scott Weiland ( Steve Perry), Justin Timberlake (Daryl Hall), Rob Thomas (Huey Lewis), Gwen Stefani or Lady Gaga (Cyndi Lauper), Kelly Clarkson (Kim Carnes), Tom Petty (Bob Dylan), and Afrika Bambaataa (Ray Charles).

I'd also throw Prince, who had been scheduled to participate in the original 1985 version, but missed the session, in Stevie Wonder's place. And I like the idea of having Janet Jackson take Michael's part. The Haiti version does this but has her duet with his '85 vocal instead of letting her take it solo. I'd fix that. Of course some of the verses would have to become raps (I don't want to hear Will Smith or Jay-Z sing), and Bambaataa would have to throw some scratching on there, and Prince needs a lengthy guitar solo.

Even with this talent, the results would probably be pretty awful, but in a really cool way. Just like the original.

Rock Bottom: "Weird Al" Yankovic

2010-02-17T03:49:00.002-06:00

The one constant in every established artist's oeuvre is the bad album, the one that's reviled by both fans and critics. Those unlovable albums are the ones this feature, Rock Bottom, is concerned with.

Here's how it works: I've consulted two main sources, The All Music Guide (for the critical point-of-view) and Amazon.com (for the fan perspective*). The album with the lowest combined rating from both sources is the one I'll consider the worst. I may not always agree with the choice, and my reviews will reflect that. If that's the case, I'll offer a considered alternative. Finally, there are some limits. The following types of albums don't count: 1) b-sides or remix compilations, 2) live albums, 3) albums recorded when the band was missing a vital member, and 4) forays into a different genres (i.e. classical).

*A note about Amazon.com. I consider this the fan perspective, because most people who choose to review albums on this site are adoring fans of the artist in question.

* * *

And so we've reached Al's worst album. If you've been following me on my journey through his catalog, it's probably not a surprise. Things have taken a downward turn in his last few albums (Alapalooza, Bad Hair Day, and Running With Scissors). I guess I'm not alone. According to my research Al's three worst albums are Alapalooza, Bad Hair Day, and Poodle Hat. The All Music Guide gives all three of them 2 star ratings (Running With Scissors got 2.5). Amazon.com reviewers were kinder, giving all three contenders 4.5 star averages. Despite that, 2003's Poodle Hat takes the cake, barely, with the highest percentage of one and two star ratings.

All Music Guide's Stephen Thomas Erlewine offers an uncharacteristically in-depth analysis of Poodle Hat's (and Yankovic's) faults. He feels that, "Al's sensibility has been...thoroughly assimilated by mass culture" and says that this has led to predictability. He also writes that on most of the songs Al "seems removed from the culture he's commenting upon" and that this makes him seem "old and out of step."

Amazon.com reviewers were no kinder. Allen Slea picks up on the exact condundrum I myself have been wrestling with on these later albums, namely the idea of a 44 year-old (at the time, now he's 50) with a 12 year-old sense of humor: "Who is Al trying to appeal to anyway?" he asks. "Does he expect kids to know Piano Man, or be familiar with Frank Zappa or Bob Dylan? Does he expect adults to laugh at junior high stuff like Party at the Leper Colony?" The former question is less disturbing to me than the latter. Other reviewers, also like me, find themselves tiring of Al's songwriting formula. Fred7890 has a long list of complaints, including a complaint about lists: "Second, enough with all the 'list' songs. One per album is enough." AshleyMorgan17 adds that, "All he can do is list things and put it to someone else's music. See, Banana, Detroit, marmoset, rubber ball, toilet, I can list things too. Not funny."

Now, on to my review, in the same format I've done my previous "Weird Al" reviews:

Parodies
The parodies on Poodle Hat are mostly tired and uninspired. Here we have Couch Potato, originating in Eminem Lose Yourself. Guess what? It's about watching TV. Al says nothing here that he didn't already say in Cable TV or Syndicated Incorporated, he just updates the shows and networks. A Complicated Song is a parody of Avril Lavigne's Complicated . In it, the narrator eats too much pizza and gets constipated, finds out his girlfriend is also his cousin, and then gets decapitated. So yep, poop, incest, and violence. Al's song is only clever in its use of multiple 4 syllable words that end in -ed. An Ode to A Superhero is the latest in Al's series of film plots put to music. This time it's Spider-Man to the tune of Billy Joel's Piano Man, and like the others in the series (Jurassic Park, The Saga Begins), it's tiresome.

Trash Day, a parody of Nelly's Hot In Herrre, illuminates a new problem for Al. The song he's parodying is actually funnier than the parody. Nelly's tune was full of intentionally funny moments like the "Girl, I think my butt's gettin' big" and "I got a pole in the basement" bits. Al's is just a list of garbage, which Shel Silverstein did better in his poem Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout.

The only bright spot in the parody front is eBay, a take on one of the best pop songs ever written, Backstreet Boys' I Want It That Way. This song is so good, you could put any lyrics to it and it'd be enjoyable (the nonsensical lyrics of the original prove that). Al's take is a Crazy List song of things the narrator got on eBay (an Alf alarm clock, vintage tube socks, a Kleenex used by Dr.Dre, etc.).

Style Parodies
Hardware Store, a fleet tune that uses power tool noises for rhythm is the best of the style parodies. The narrator is excited about the opening of a hardware store, and then he lists items that he'd like to buy. Despite the somewhat boring subject matter, musically it's one of the most memorable songs on the album, a throwback to earlier, better, Al originals. As a bonus, it has no direct musical lineage, though the harmonies on the chorus are vaguely Queen-like. This is comforting after learning how many of Al's originals have actually been uncredited parodies.

Bob is another gem. It's a homage to Dylan, a harmonica-driven rave up full of palindromic lyrics like "rats live on no evil star" and "may a moody baby doom a yam." Of course the joke is that there isn't much difference between the nonsense phases and real Dylan lyrics.

But not all is well. The pick-up-line-laden Wanna B Ur Lover revisits the problem of Trash Day. See, it's done in the style of Beck on his Midnite Vultures album, which itself was a tongue-in-cheek homage to James Brown and Prince. So the original was already funny, and thus a parody was unnecessary. It'd be like someone making a parody of Airplane! At six minutes plus, it's also way too long.

Why Does This Always Happen To Me is in the same category for the same reason. It's done in Ben Folds' style, and Folds himself is no slouch when it comes to writing funny songs (see Uncle Walter, Song For the Dumped, Your Redneck Past, Bitch Went Nutz, etc.). Why Does This Always Happen To Me is a tale of a self-absorbed man whose minor setbacks bother him more than major tragedies. This is also the second song on the album to feature decapitation as a major plot point. The only plus here is that Folds himself adds a great piano solo, and that Al returned the favor by providing back-up vocals on Folds' excellent Time (from 2005's Songs For Silverman).

Finally, there's Genius In France, a multi-part tribute to Frank Zappa. Musically, it's somewhat interesting, running through several different styles. Lyrically, it's the story of a guy whose a complete loser but is revered in France. Is this supposed to be an insult to Jerry Lewis, France, or both? At any rate, count on Al to make broad generalizations about a culture that isn't his own. Like Running With Scissors' Albuquerque this song is too long (nearly 9 minutes) to truly be effective, especially since we all got the joke in the first minute.

Polka Medley
Several reviewers (including Erlewine) pointed out that the title of Angry White Boy Polka is inaccurate, lumping the new garage band movement in with the rap-rock revolution. I don't have so much of an issue with that myself. Here are the song's Al polkafies: Last Resort (Papa Roach), Chop Suey (System of a Down), Get Free (The Vines), Hate To Say I Told You So (The Hives), Fell In Love With A Girl (The White Stripes), Last Nite (The Strokes), Down With the Sickness (Disturbed), Renegades of Funk (Rage Against the Machine), My Way (Limp Bizkit), Outside (Staind) Bawitaba (Kid Rock), Youth of the Nation (P.O.D.), The Real Slim Shady (Eminem). This tune is worth noting for the awesome doo-wop style on Last Nite and the fact that it's the only polka medley Al has done where I didn't know most of the songs.

What The?!
Blues tune Party at the Leper Colony is juvenile. It's full of bad puns ("another pretty lady got her eye on me", "don't you give me no lip") about the titular event. The less said about it, the better.

Conclusion
So, we have an over-reliance on Crazy List songs (a whopping 6 of them), recycled themes, less funny versions of already funny things, and base humor. It sure sounds like a Rock Bottom to me, so I don't dispute the fan's and critic's choice. However, if I'm being completely fair, I have to say that for my money Poodle Hat is actually a slightly better album than Bad Hair Day.

References to food: 2
References to TV: 2
Grade: D+
Fave Song: eBay, I guess

Author's Note: This is album review #255.