Archive for the ‘music’ Category

Jingle most of the way

Posted: December 14, 2013 in music, Record reviews
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Greetings, Honorable Ones! It’s Christmas, so naturally I’m thinking about Pearl Jam. They have a new album, Lightning Bolt. Do I have to listen to more of their repetitious, snoozy arena rock? I haven’t liked a Pearl Jam album since their debut, Ten, and that was in 1991, before we had phones implanted in our heads. Why did they call their first album Ten? There are 11 songs on it. Why not 1 or First or We Wrote 11 Songs or Hey Hey We’re Pearl Jam? Ten has “Jeremy,” “Even Flow,” “Black,” and “Deep,” and that about does it for me. Aren’t they just AC/DC, except that they’ve read some books since leaving high school?

But it’s Christmas, and I don’t want to be visited by creepy ghosts, so let’s be positive here, OK? What is it with you people? Stand up right now, face in the direction of Seattle, and bow because Pearl Jam is the only band that ever went head-to-head with Ticketmaster over that company’s greedy service fees. The good guys lost, but they fought the law.

While I’m on the topic of Christmas, it’s equally natural that my thoughts would turn to Lady Gaga, who also has a new release, Artpop. Lady Gaga’s third album has been lauded for being “autobiographical” and “mature.” Stefani Germanotta is only 27 – how much autobiography does she have? As for the maturity of these songs, she started in a hole. She has a long way to go before she writes anything of interest to adults.

Artpop comes nowhere near the dance-floor success of The Fame Monster or Born This Way. The best songs on Artpop, “Applause” and “Gypsy,” are good, but they sound like refugees from Flashdance.

But it’s Christmas! Forget Artpop. I’ve been listening to “Born This Way” for two years now, and I have to say that this song is FN awesome. It’s the biggest pop anthem since “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” plus it’s easier to understand. (Both songs were wickedly parodied by Weird Al.) So wrap yourself in your feather boa to honor Lady Gaga’s achievement.

Did you know that it’s Christmas? It is, and that can only mean one thing: Boston! They have a new album, Life, Love & Hope. No no no no, I don’t care that it’s Christmas, I refuse to listen to anymore Boston. So how about instead: Paul McCartney!

McCartney has a new album. He calls it New. Come on, Macca, you could’ve done better there. On this release, Sir Paul imitates all the bands from the ’80s and ’90s who imitated him. Which is pretty much everyone. This exercise is pleasant, but on a handful of songs – “Queenie Eye,” “I Can Bet,” “Get Me Out of Here,” and especially “Hosanna” – he reminds me that this is Paul Fucking McCartney of the Major Fucking Leagues I’m listening to.

New was released in October, so it doesn’t qualify as holiday music, but this is the season for gratitude. Sir Paul is 71 and his voice is shot, but let’s give our Beatles bobbleheads a pat on their bobbly heads and be thankful that this man is still around to remind us that rock ’n’ roll is supposed to be fun, dammit.

I see by the calendar that it’s Christmas, and when it’s Christmas, who is never far behind? You’re right: Eminem! Et voilà: The Marshall Mathers LP 2. Poor little white rapper! Perpetually outraged that he’s gotten rich by making his life harder than it has to be. Yo, loyal readers around the world: If you can’t handle Eminem at Christmas, how about R. Kelly, who sets out his philosophy of life on the sensitively titled Black Panties. R. Kelly is a sex “Genius.” How do I know? Silly rabbit, he says so right in the song. Is “Genius” the kind of slow number where you hold your baby close and think of what you mean to each other? No.

Well, it turns out it’s the holidays, and because I don’t believe in making war on Christmas I give you: The Everly Brothers! Yes, though Don and Phil haven’t released any new material since 1989, they’re still just what the season calls for.

If you like The Everly Brothers, you’ll love the Everly Dad
I can’t claim I’m an Everlys fan. I like “I’m Not Angry,” “Burma Shave” (a rockabilly “Wipe Out”), and “Lord of the Manor,” their mid-’60s attempt at psychedelia. It was news to me that, in 1958, while riding the success of their 1957 debut (which featured “Wake Up Little Susie,” “I Wonder If I Care as Much,” and “Bye Bye Love”), the brothers returned to their roots and recorded Songs Our Daddy Taught Us.

The Everlys performed these songs with just their acoustic guitars and other-worldly voices. These are not songs I would play often; they’re Appalachian blues verging on gospel and country, in which the characters are bound for death or something close by. The one song I’m likely to replay is “Roving Gambler.” The first time I heard it, I felt I was listening to the birth of Springsteen’s Nebraska.

Meanwhile, here in 2013, we now have Foreverly, Billie Joe Armstrong and Norah Jones’s loving tribute to Songs Our Daddy Taught Us. What attracted them to this set? The subject matter, surely; Armstrong is the son of Okies and Jones grew up in rural Texas. “These are songs about family,” Jones said in an interview. “Dead family.”

I haven’t much to say about Norah Jones, other than that she’s talented, sings beautifully, makes music too mild to interest me, and is pretty good in an interview.

Billie Joe Armstrong, I thought, was a typical singer in a punk band: a strong voice (a nasal voice), limited range, often resorts to shouting. I wasn’t into him or Green Day until they released their rock opera, American Idiot (2004), which is now a musical. (Those last five words are the most unreal words I’ve ever written.) I admit I’m a sucker for a rock opera. I still remember how excited I was after reading about Tommy in Rolling Stone. I remember bringing the LP home. I remember my Dad threatening to punch multiple big holes in it.

Tommy didn’t disappoint me and neither did American Idiot, though both suffer power failures in the middle. The highlight of American Idiot, for me, is “Jesus of Suburbia.” Green Day spends the first half of the song pretending to be a punk version of the ’50s, a punk version of Queen, and then they briefly do something horrible to Deep Purple. Starting at the 6:30 mark (this song is 9 minutes long) they swing into the tune from “Ring of Fire,” with their own words –

To live
and not to breathe
is to die
in tragedy
To run,
to run away,
to fight
what you believe

– and with a nod to “My Way” and a hint of Ravel’s Bolero, topped off with a guitar lick they stole from Yes. Jesus! Why don’t I ever hear this at Christmas instead of all the stupid Christmas songs written by Jews like me?

On Foreverly, this odd pairing of punker and crooner is dynamite on a china plate. Unlike the Everlys on Songs Our Daddy Taught Us, Armstrong and Jones bring a band to the studio. This gives the songs hope to go with their innate despair. (Some of the songs, anyway.) Their version of “Kentucky” is haunting, but now also with a touch of calypso, or maybe Los Lobos in their quieter moments. They turn “Oh So Many Years” into a hoedown, “I’m Here to Get My Baby Out of Jail” into a funeral march (OK, that’s not hopeful), and “Barbara Allen” into a track from Songs of the Civil War or a Camper Van Beethoven outtake.

There’s a lot of heartache in the love affair in “Roving Gambler,” a song that may be unique in having three points of view, the gambler, the mother, and her daughter:

Mother, oh dear mother, I’ll tell you if I can
If you ever see me comin’ back, I’ll be with the gambling man.
Be with the gambling man.
Be with the gambling man.

But in their performance, Armstrong and Jones give it an unexpected buoyancy. You finish the song thinking, sure, the gambler is goin’ down to George to gamble his last game, but maybe this will work out!

“Rockin’ Alone (in An Old Rockin’ Chair)” is a manipulative tear-jerker no matter how you slice it (“It wouldn’t take much to gladden her heart/just some small remembrance on somebody’s part”), and “Long Time Gone” and “Lightning Express” are way too country, but overall I rate Foreverly as a Buy – but ONLY if you also buy Songs Our Daddy Taught Us. Happy holidays, Don and Phil, and I hope you liked this gift from Billie Joe and Norah.

As for me, I’m still waiting to hear “Santa Claus and His Old Lady” on the radio, plus I suspect that R. Kelly is bluffing. I think I might give Norah Jones another try. Why not? I hear it’s Christmas.

RIP: Lou Reed, who I hope is taking one long walk on the wild side.

Postscript, 3 Jan 2014: RIP Phil Everly. Bye bye love.

 

Let me count the ways: Enough is enough!

Posted: September 4, 2013 in music, Record reviews
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I thought I had finished listening to and saying stupid things about every band with a number in its name that we collectively thought up, but I was wrong, as I so often am. Loyal reader and Southern industrialist corncobb has unearthed two bands that I’d overlooked: 8-Ball and Infinity. Thanks a lot, loyal reader and Southern industrialist corncobb!

Well, this blog wouldn’t exist without my loyal readers. Actually, it wouldn’t exist without WordPress. So in the interest of completing Let Me Count the Ways Week, which is now in its 10th frakking day, I gave these groups a good listening to. And boy was I sorry.

8-Ball and Infinity were both founded in the 1990s, 8-Ball in Japan and Infinity in Norway. 8-Ball is associated with several songs that are used in video games or with video magazines. “(Need for) Speed” uses unnecessary parentheses and shows how closely these boys have listened to Deep Purple, though Deep Purple wouldn’t spend five minutes listening to 8-Ball. “Can’t Carry On” sounds like Candlebox moving from California to Seattle in the ’90s and pretending to be a grunge act. “Masquerade” is something the Foo Fighters would scrub out of their swimming pool.

That brings us to Infinity. The Infinity gang loves Madonna. To her music they add just enough rapping to keep their grandparents on edge. The only song they have that is even halfway listenable is “Sleeping My Day Away,” and that’s because they didn’t write it – it’s a cover of a song by the Danish rock band D-A-D. No, I am not starting a project where I review bands with capital letters for names. I’ve already done ABBA and AC/DC anyway.

The one thing I like about Infinity is that this summer they toured Norway as part of the “We Love the ’90s!” tour. I have no idea what the ’90s was like in the home of the Norse gods, but it probably wasn’t like what I saw in the first Thor movie. I’ve always wanted to visit Scandinavia (Special D just put her head in her hands) and if I ever get to Oslo you can be sure I’ll report back on “We Love the ’90s!” I’d be crazy to miss it. Imagine the band merch!

The summing up
A couple of weeks ago, I gave Special D what I’ve written on my novel so far, all 25,000 words of it. She gave me her usual excellent feedback. Since then I’ve been thinking pretty hard about what she said and where I think my book is going. Listening to 110 or so bands with numbers in their names and then unfairly judging them and dismissing their life’s work in a few biting sentences was a fun project for my off-hours.

Despite the crappy bands this project stuck me with (Kenny Rogers & The First Edition, The Four Seasons, and 101 Strings lead that pack), I ended up listening to a lot of music I liked: U2, Three Dog Night, Gang of Four, The Bobby Fuller Four, The Jackson Five, Nine Inch Nails, UB40, The B-52s, Galaxie 500. For once I’m going to emphasize success rather than failure, and that means I want to single out the bands I didn’t know or didn’t know well and that happily surprised me: 2 Nice Girls, Timbuk 3, Sixpence None the Richer, 16 Horsepower, Matchbox Twenty, and 50 Foot Wave. I was pleased to reacquaint myself with 10cc’s “Neanderthal Man” and that Dean Moriarty song by Aztec Two-Step.

A warning: Don’t ever put a four in your band’s name. The 14 bands in that sad category were offset only by Bobby Fuller, Gang of Four, and The Four Tops.

Thanks to everyone who suggested bands and put this list together. I never would’ve gotten half of them without your help. For the record, here they all are, including the acts I reviewed in the two months before Let Me Count the Ways Week started on August 25:

.38 Special

Kenny Rogers & The First Edition
One Direction
KRS-One

2 Live Crew
2 Nice Girls
2 Unlimited
2Pac
Amon Düül II
Aztec Two-Step
Boyz II Men
RJD2
U2

3 Doors Down
3 Mustaphas 3
311
3OH!3
Fun Boy Three
Loudon Wainwright III
The Three O’Clock
Third Eye Blind
Third World War
Three Dog Night
Timbuk 3

4 Non Blondes
Bobby Fuller Four
Classics IV
Four Bitchin’ Babes
Four Men & a Dog
Gang of Four
The Four Aces
The Four Freshmen
The Four Fellows
The Four Havens
The Four Horsemen
The Four Seasons
The Four Tops
The Four Toppers

Ben Folds Five
The Dave Clark Five
Deadmou5
Five Finger Death Punch
Five for Fighting
Five Man Electrical Band
Maroon 5
MC5
Q5
The 5th Dimension
The Five Satins
The Jackson 5
We Five

Apollonia 6
The 6ths
Six By Seven
Sixpence None the Richer

7 Seconds
7 Seconds of Love
L7

Crazy 8’s
8Ball
8-Ball

Nine Inch Nails

10cc
10 Years
Ten Years After

12 Rounds

16 Horsepower

East 17
Heaven 17

Matchbox Twenty

UB40
Level 42
Black 47

50 Cent
50 Foot Wave
The B-52s

MX-80
M83

The Old 97’s

Apollo 100
Haircut 100
101 Strings
blink-182

Galaxie 500

Area Code 615

1000 Homo DJs

1910 Fruitgum Company

10,000 Maniacs

Do as Infinity
Infinity

Let me count the ways: Brought to you by the numbers 500-infinity

Posted: September 3, 2013 in music, Record reviews
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Mathematicians, please do not come after me for my misuse of infinity.

This is it! Big finish! Let’s go…500!

Galaxie 500
A band from the end of the 1980s that I like a lot, though to my ears they’re just variations on The Dream Syndicate and The Velvet Underground. But I like those variations. Sometimes derivative can make you happy.

Galaxie 500, which was named for my Dad’s old car, was two men and one woman who met at Harvard and discovered they were all shoe-gazing, self-involved emos. Their dreamlike musicianship, sweet dispositions, and melancholy outlook suit me perfectly. On their 1988 debut, Today, in “Oblivious,” they sang, “I’d rather stay in bed with you/Till it’s time to get a drink.” Robert Cristgau in his review wrote, “What kind of decadent is that?”

I should mention that singing is not their strong suit. Their vocals either fail to stick or get in the way, as in their cover of George Harrison’s “Isn’t It a Pity.”

On Today, they covered Jonathan Richman’s “Don’t Let Our Youth Go to Waste,” a title that sums them up. At a show I went to in Boston in 1979, Jonathan Richman stole my date right in the middle of the dance floor, so you see, I have a deep connection with this scene.

Area Code 615
This is the Nashville area code, and the nine gentlemen in this group were all Nashville studio musicians. Some of them had played on Bob Dylan’s Nashville Skyline and decided to stick together. Their fellowship of the ring led to Area Code 615 and two albums, their 1969 self-titled debut and 1970’s A Trip in the Country.

These songs are instrumentals mixing country, funk, soul, and rock. The first album is mostly covers, including several of The Beatles. “Hey Jude” is pretty funny with a banjo and a harmonica, but I’m not sure they were trying to make me laugh. (When the original “Hey Jude” was released, my Grandma Rose, who was in her 70s and who grew up in Austria speaking Yiddish, was upset because she thought The Beatles were singing “Hey Jew.”)

“Lady Madonna” builds to a country hoedown. The harmonica replaces Otis Redding on “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long.” It’s not great but it has its own quiet strength. Their cover of “Classical Gas” sticks like glue to Mason Williams’ original, but that country cracker-barrel flavor gives it some novelty appeal. I rate this disc a Listen but not a Buy.

The second album is all orginal material with touches of jazz, particularly on “Devil Weed and Me.” Their best-known (the one with the most hits on YouTube) and probably best track is “Stone Fox Chase.” Their best title is “Welephant Walk.” Their best effort was the first album.

My guess is that, like The Byrds’ (Untitled) from the same era, you have to be a musician to really appreciate these discs. Session musicians, like back-up singers, rarely get the credit they deserve, and I hope these boys enjoyed their hour upon the stage because they sure could play.

Though I sometimes use this blog to make negative remarks about country music, I am compelled to admit that Nashville Skyline is a phenomenal record.

1000 Homo DJs
Al Jourgensen of Ministry created this band in the ’90s. There is absolutely no reason to buy a 1000 Homo DJs CD, but you should definitely download their cover of Black Sabbath’s “Supernaut,” which not only rocks the house, it rezones the neighborhood. You can find it on the 1994 Black Sab tribute CD, Nativity in Black. (While you’re over there, check out what Megadeath did to “Paranoid.”) This cover of “Supernaut” does very little that the original didn’t do, but it has somehow been recorded 1000 times harder.

Trent Reznor sang the vocals on the first draft of “Supernaut,” but after his record company whined about it, Jourgensen had to redub them. This makes Reznor the only person to appear more than once on this list: For his own band, Nine Inch Nails, for his advocacy of 12 Rounds, and for this thing.

Musical history note: One of Jourgensen’s bandmates in this venture dubbed himself Wee Willie Reefer.

1910 Fruitgum Company
The late ’60s “bubblegum” phenomenon would make an interesting study, but I am not about to study it. I lived through it and that’s enough. In fact I didn’t even play any of these songs because they are still echoing in my brain.

1910 etc. was the first group explicitly put together to produce this lighter-than-air musical alternative to the harder rock of the time. They released three albums in 1968, and the title song of each hit the Top 40: “Simon Says,” “1, 2, 3 Red Light,” and “Goody Goody Gumdrops.” Just typing these titles raises my blood sugar to unsustainable levels.

I looked it up and the biggest bubblegum hit of all was The Archies’ “Sugar, Sugar” in 1969. In fact, “Sugar, Sugar” was the #1 single for 1969 – not something from Abbey Road, Yellow Submarine, I Got Dem Old Kozmic Blues Again Mama!, The Band, Let It Bleed, Tommy, Santana, Stand!, Crosby, Stills & Nash, Johnny Cash At San Quentin, or even My Way.

Sometime in the early ’80s, Lenny Kaye, Patti Smith’s guitarist, came to Seattle with his own band. I don’t know what he thought of the people in that little club who kept calling out the names of Patti Smith songs, but for their encore they played “Sugar, Sugar.” Was he trying to punish us, was he being ironic, or did he just really like that song?

10,000 Maniacs
Oh boy, more folk-rock, and just in time because I was afraid we’d run out. 10,000 Maniacs were supposedly named for an ancient horror movie called Two Thousand Maniacs. Maniacs? Well, I suppose if you locked lead singer Natalie Merchant in a room with 101 Strings she’d ask for an ax or a sword fairly soon. 10,000 Maniacs’ more famous songs include “Hey Jack Kerouac” (In My Tribe, 1987), “What’s the Matter Here?” (ditto), and “These Are Days” (Our Time in Eden, 1992). I like that last one – it has a joyous power to which only the walking dead would fail to respond.

Though there were only 9,999 maniacs after Merchant left to start a solo career in the 1990s, and though this band can be glaringly obvious when they’re trying to make a point, they are still a favorite on the folk-rock circuit. I also believe they were one of the first bands to unplug on MTV. That was probably a great fit for them.

Do as Infinity
This projects ends at last, not with a bang but with Japanese bubblegum. Welcome to the face of J-pop in the new century. They’ve got their cross-hairs on an obscure, undeserved group: teenage girls who love clothes.

Somehow this formula works. Do as Infinity has racked up 14 straight Top 10 singles in the Japanese, Korean, and Chinese combined market with what to me sounds like music you would’ve heard if you were living in the USA in the 1980s. The only thing that kept me from losing consciousness while I listened is that they seem to have memorized every note that Smashing Pumpkins ever played. I kept hearing the occasional gust of guitar that could’ve come from Siamese Dream or Gish.

If you’re one of my typical readers, stay away from Do as Infinity. If you’re a teenage girl who loves clothes – what the heck are you doing here? Stick with Ke$ha.

Tomorrow night: Kudos to my faithful readers and a few thoughts on what I learned this past week.

Let me count the ways: Brought to you by the numbers 83-182

Posted: September 2, 2013 in music, Record reviews
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I hope all of you reading this in the United States are enjoying the end of the Labor Day weekend and not freaking too much over the resumption of gainful employment tomorrow.

We had dinner with touring relatives at our favorite Italian restaurant, Portofino, to which I bestow my highest rating: five spicy meatballs. The following day we had lunch at a place they introduced us to, Corbett Fish House. Corbett’s serves food without gluten unless you insist they inject some. Normally, I enjoy gluten, in my bread, as a skin cleanser, and to keep my chess clock greased. I had some misgivings about the gluten-free fish and chips they were whipping up for me in the kitchen, but they turned out to be absolutely fabulous!

One disqualification today:

The Century Men
This was an intriguing name until I discovered that it’s a Baptist men’s chorus. If they’re willing to put down their Christmas carols and pick up Afroman’s “Because I Got High,” I’ll reconsider.

All right. Let’s go…83!

M83
Launched by two Frenchmen, Anthony Gonzalez and Nicolas Fromageau, though only Messr. Gonzalez remains today. They formed in 2001 and four years later took the bold step of introducing singing to their records. Gonzalez makes epic pop music that’s not afraid of large gestures and sweeping emotions or of riding dangerously close to the border of Mordor. Excuse me, the border of prog-rock.

The album I’ve heard is the two-CD set Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming (2011), which is probably the closest M83 gets to the mainstream. The mournful and oh-so-very Depeche Mode “Midnight City” deserved all of its air time on alt-rock stations. “Reunion” is like a brighter Depeche Mode, as if Gonzalez added a few drops of The Police. “Claudia Lewis” sounds like the fun side of the New Wave, like a Gonzalez collaboration with Heaven 17 (but not Haircut 100).

This year, Gonzalez finally got a project that, on paper, matched his musical ambitions: the soundtrack to the science-fiction film Oblivion. Unfortunately, Oblivion barely broke even with the critics on Rottentomatoes.com, and I can’t say that the soundtrack fared much better. However, “Waking Up” would’ve been perfect on the soundtrack of the new Superman movie. It stops at a svelte 4 minutes and is better than almost everything in Man of Steel ‘s overstuffed score.

The Old 97’s
More alt-country, dammit. At least it’s not more folk-rock. I listened to most of their second album, Wreck Your Life (1995). The first track, “Victoria,” sums things up: Good writing (“This is the story of Victoria Lee/she started off on Percodan and ended up with me”), but music that wobbles between country-rock and country-country. There’s not enough rock for me, plus Rhett Miller cannot sing. Too bad, I love his first name. There’s some twangy Duane Eddy guitar on “Bel Air,” although it doesn’t go with this very angry song.

I also listened to 1999’s Fight Songs, but naturally the tracks I liked best, “What We Talk About” and “Murder (Or a Heart Attack),” are the ones that have the least to do with anything country.

Apollo 100
As they used to say on Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea before the stunt man in the monster scuba-diving suit started wrestling with the model of the Seaview, “Rig for collision!”

Apollo 100 will forever be remembered for their 1972 instrumental hit, “Joy,” which is based on Bach’s “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring,” not counting the guitar solo and the part that sounds like a sea chantey. The final 30 seconds, though, are unexpectedly strong.

Among the songs that Apollo 100 singed with their retro rockets were “Hang On Sloopy,” “Lady Madonna,” and the William Tell overture.

The only significant thing about Apollo 100 is that their guitarist, Vic Flick (now that’s a name!!), was the first guitarist to play the James Bond theme. He was also a session musician for A Hard Day’s Night. Vic Flick knows all the chords. Mind he’s strictly rhythm, he doesn’t want to make it cry or sing. An old guitar is all he can afford, when he gets up under the lights to play his thing.

Haircut 100
As New Wave bands go, I can objectively state that Haircut 100 is more boring than a 45-minute PowerPoint presentation read aloud word for word by a guy whose sole ambition is to stick with the company for another 20 years and then retire. The shock waves still echo from their debut, Pelican West (1982), which gave us two sand traps that invade every ’80s hit package: “Love Plus One,” which sucks, and “Favourite Shirts (Boy Meets Girl),” which – what a coincidence – also sucks.

101 Strings
When I was 11 or 12 I had a friend named Bobby. We both went through an intense ship-building stage. We’d get together at his house (which was quieter, and where there was no danger of my 4-year-old sister and her pre-school thugs destroying our models) and set out our battleships and cruisers in intricate fleet patterns in his huge living room. Bobby’s family had something I’d never seen before: shag carpeting. The deep pile was perfect for our navy, helping to disguise how out-of-scale the ships were to each other.

They had a huge console stereo system in the same room, and so we played records while we played. Bobby’s mother (who was infinitely patient) and father had a collection of Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass, who at that time were bigger than Jesus. We went straight for those. Other records in the stack were puzzling. What were we supposed to do with How to Strip for Your Husband ? We somehow knew to stay away from it. We also knew, without any guidance, that we shouldn’t play anything by 101 Strings.

101 Strings were launched in 1957 with the mission of  warming over, cooling off, and de-boning popular hits, movie scores, classical themes, and anything with a whiff of ethnicity. If in 1957 or 1967 or 1977 you believed that that Perry Como ruffian should take it down a notch, then you probably had a 101 Strings record in your collection. Or two. Or a hundred.

For this project, I put on my favorite button-down sweater vest, cranked the volume to an ear-bleeding 3, and listened to 101 Strings smother “Love Is Blue,” “Riverdance,” and “Tubular Bells.” If we lived in a taller house, I would’ve jumped.

blink-182
These California skateboarders have been playing the same kind of music for 20 years: pop-styled punk or punk-styled pop (The Ramones wrote the original playbook) from the point of view of the older male teenager. They were in their 20s when they started, for godsakes, but in their 30s they were still writing about kissing some girl and what they’d like to do to that girl’s mom, all with plenty of bathroom jokes and eye-rolling contempt for adults (which, as I’ve already noted, they are).

Their music sounds monolithic to me; bad singing, enthusiastic but sloppy drumming, the same Foo Fighter guitar licks. If you were making a party mix, you’d slip in a blink-182 as part of the buildup to the really good songs. I should mention that “All the Small Things” (from Enema of the State, 1999) would’ve been perfect for The Donnas, the female version of the Ramones, and that on the album blink-182 (2003) they performed a duet with Robert Smith of The Cure on “All of This” and even played the piano. (Don’t rush off to download it.)

blink-182 and Take Off Your Pants and Jacket (2001) are the albums to listen to. Take Off Your Pants includes a song we never hear but desperately need at Christmas, “Happy Holidays, You Bastard.” Radio stations should play it as the lead-in to “Santa Claus and His Old Lady.”

Tomorrow: I’ll start with Galaxie 500 and see if I can go home already!

Let me count the ways: Brought to you by the numbers 47-80

Posted: August 31, 2013 in music, Record reviews
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Today was Day 1 of the Labor Day three-day weekend. I’m explaining that for the benefit of my readers residing outside the USA, particularly the person who dropped by yesterday from Hungary. (Sorry, you don’t get your money back.) So although I did a lot today, most of it was in the categories of walking, observing nature, watering various leafy objects in the garden, and napping. That explains why tonight’s entry is shorter than recent entries.

No disqualifications this evening. Let’s go 47!

Black 47
I don’t know where Level 42 got their name from, but I do know that Black 47 comes from the worst year of the Irish potato famine. These boyos are Irishmen living in New York. They play Celtic folk (interest dropping), rock, rap, and reggae (interest back up). I listened to Fire of Freedom (1993). I liked “Rockin’ the Bronx,” which really does mix up all these genres – imagine The Beastie Boys transplanted to Dublin – but overall this music is firmly in Thistle & Shamrock territory and I didn’t make it through all 14 tracks.

50 Cent
The first thing to know about 50 Cent is that, given his early years, it’s a miracle he’s still alive and getting ready to turn 40. Like Alex Alexakis of Everclear, Curtis James Jackson III actually lived the gangsta life he writes about. The second thing to know is that for years, 50 Cent was an unstoppable money machine, vacuuming in the cash for his own albums and for the ones he produced for his buddies (collectively known as the G-Unit). The third thing to know, although this one means nothing, is that I will never take gangsta rap seriously.

I listened to his breakout record, Get Rich or Die Tryin’ (2003). This one produced two songs that invaded the mainstream and became huge hits, “Wanksta” and “In da Club.” I realize now I’ve heard “In da Club” or variations of it for years, especially during the run-up to battle or chase scenes in less-cerebral science-fiction movies. I also admit that it gets under your skin. Get Rich also gave us “P.I.M.P.,” a topic that never grows old, although this one has a calypso chassis that almost makes it palatable.

The only thing I really like about 50 Cent is his name, which I think was a fantastic choice. I enjoyed calling my Boise friend John “35 Cent,” but he got tired of it.

50 Foot Wave
This is rock that looks back at punk and looks forward to kicking you in the head. Kristin Hersh (of Throwing Muses) runs this project. I’ve only heard the 50 Foot Wave EP (2004), but it’s obvious that 50 Foot Wave could run rings around The Ramones, stand toe-to-toe with Foo Fighters (though they’re nowhere near as melodic), and scare the pants off Coldplay. Recommended if you need to knock everything out of your brain.

The B-52s
I can’t write objectively about my favorites. Check the tag cloud or go here.

MX-80
Experimental music from the 1970s and ’80s with punk tendencies and much dry humor. The production is not very clear, though it is clear that MX-80 is playing music strictly for MX-80. If you like it too, so what.

“Someday You’ll Be King” from Out of the Tunnel (1980) has a punchy, uncontrolled quality to it and gives you a taste of some late-’70s punk. “It’s Not My Fault” sounds like Talking Heads and Devo went through the transporter at the same time and came out the same band. I haven’t heard any of their other albums, but I’ll bet Out of the Tunnel was the closest MX-80 came to commercial appeal. (Out of the Tunnel and their next album, Crowd Control, are available on the same CD.)

Thirteen bands to go. Tomorrow we’ll start with M83 and see if we can reach 101 Strings.

 

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