The Lumineers Demonstrate How Easy Ophelia Is On The Ears

The Lumineers have something exceedingly snappy to share with us and its name is Ophelia. She's a living doll from the sounds of things. Each band member brings her to glorious life whether it's through Jeremiah Caleb Fraites on piano or Wesley Caleb Schultz with his folksy voice techniques. If you like hand clapping people pleasing tributes to love then you have certainly have come to the right place. As is not uncommon with many songs in the past much studio time is used on how someone of younger years lacks the wisdom needed to succeed in a serious relationship. Running further down the lyric sheet Wesley waxes on about how much Ophelia has been on his mind since the flood. I can't brag enough about what pluckiness the piano possesses. If Gene Kelly were alive today he could have incorporate one heck of a swank tap dance routine into the mix.It's not even 3 minutes long but the perky meter gets ratcheted up to eleven. A little lightness of being goes a long way, particularly for "Ophelia". The video shows Wesley to be quite the onstage presence. His forays into street gaiety don't go unnoticed either. Solid drumming gives the song a firm attachment to the here and now. Ophelia for any man represents a drug worth ingesting seeing what a lovable sprite she is. Gliding along nicely "Ophelia" allows you to have a number of gin and tonic moments with pleasing backdrop. Tambourine weaving also gives the song a nice good natured spin. Wesley is having himself a marvelous time in the video. His infectiousness deserves to be caught on a large scale. "Ophelia" is a treat, not bad on the ears, and merits widespread attention.

The Deftones Say Very Murky Prayers

It's a lucky thing I thought to bring up a lyric sheet for me to refer to because otherwise I honestly couldn't tell you what I make of "Prayers/Triangles", the new single from Sacramento's pride and joy...The Deftones. Stephen Carpenter's lead guitar playing blurs the whole situation because its fuzziness crowds out what lead vocalist Chino Moreno's trying to convey. Again, thank you lyric sheet because I wouldn't know what Chino's telling me. Even the video does not appear grounded in logic. Lots of flapping flamingos, a release date, and "Gore", the title of album connected to upcoming release date. The band's grit hasn't deserted them, a nice plus for the band, now a 28 year veteran outfit. To tell you the truth the overall mood closely resembles something The Cure would have put out in their salad days. Mope guitar, sparing drum beats, and vocals that submerge into the gloom. Avert your gaze from "There's a new strange godless demon awake, inside me." Makes you think Ghostbusters, huh? But wait, it gets better. Are you comforted by "There's a force divine terrorizing the angels I keep while we dream." And up comes the goose flesh. By the time the chorus saunters in it gets difficult to hear the band's intentions. In short the chorus consists of "Prayers! Lay on the line. You'll never be free." Not that conviction never takes the stage because it most definitely does. What The Deftones lack in clarity of lyric they make up for in amplification. Chino has this way of getting under your skin from a sonic perspective. His angst becomes our angst. Sad to say said conflicted attitude doesn't translate well into a convincing rock song. There's a lot of flailing about in the water bur not much to justify listener loyalty. If they're trying to make a bold artistic statement I'm at a loss as to what that might be. Confusing audiences appears to be what The Deftones excel at "My Own Summer (Shove It) blended the same mix of psycho slasher voice with rough edged guitar playing that you wouldn't want haunting you in some dark alley. If Chino wants to free himself from a dark mood then more power to him but in the immediate short term belting out the equivalent of a sonic diary wouldn't be an astute selling point, at least not for a band springing to mainstream lips much of the time. When the choral refrain hits, brain blur begins. It's certainly the case some bands don't make a life's work out of coveting mainstream doubloons so The Deftones can give themselves a pat on the back for preserving their artistic integrity. Some toil in the shadows graciously so others may grasp the spotlight. The Deftones usually can be relied on to march to their own drummer. Does Robert Smith know they've swiped his goth sensibilities? About the best thing I can say about "Prayers/Triangles" is Abe Cunningham's drum playing maintains its focus throughout whether he's conserving his energy or going for the throat. "Prayers/Triangles" streaks across the sky much like the flamingos in the video. Divine guidance might have helped this little number get imaginations excited. As it stands no bag of rosary beads will elevate it to dizzying creative heights.

Adelita's Way Just Plain Bad

Las Vegas, city of gambling, sin, and enough neon to power a whole other city. It's also home to Adelita's Way which, at least in this instance, is worth forgetting. Why? Because the new single "Bad Reputation" bears the hallmarks of a hit it and quit it relationship. Nothing lasting that will convince you putting in the time and effort mattered worth a fig. I'm not on their case due to any sub par musicianship. Rick DeJesus has a voice that's serviceable for the testosterone purpose on display. Robert Zakaryan is head down business with his electric guitar. Andrew Cushing's bass playing gives his mates the strong undercurrent it needs to hit magnificent heights. And then we have Trevor "Tre" Stafford who keeps steady time bashing skins. Musically they have a likable stride. It's on the lyric sheet where they come up short. Haven't we done the bad boy with a bad reputation shtick above and beyond what needs to be said? Upfront Rick brags about how he lives a little, smokes a little, and drinks a little. Fair enough I guess but, was it really necessary to make yet another song force this sentiment down our throats as its centerpiece. I assure you it doesn't get any more rewarding as we skip along. He enjoys being misunderstood, of feeling the rush. Soon we sense we'll know everything about him down to whether he's a boxers or briefs man. "Bad Reputation" isn't a long song and for that the appropriate gratitude should be offered. That means it'll work its way out of your system faster. The chorus is too simplistic and lame to be believed that Adelita's Way honestly thought the masses would be clueless enough to drop coinage on it. "I got a bad reputation. I got it bad, bad, bad." That there's some book smart deep thinking. Yeah, if you're a grunt who has the muscle head to match his muscle mass. This effort sounds like cotton candy tastes...wispy and soon to be out of mind. You can only turn a profit on the clangor your band's collective noise makes for so long. Inevitably you have to try to convey something on a deeper level. Adelita's Way didn't get the memo. I'm glad Rick doesn't give a fuck what people think, mark of a trailblazer, mark of someone who dares not to let others do his musing for him. It's been either said or implied repeatedly through the years. Ordinarily I'd attempt to flesh out the content of a blog so as not to shortchange you, the viewer. However, since Adelita's Way hasn't said all that much through the new tune I probably shouldn't convey that much either. "Bad Reputation" isn't reputable at all. You'll get more glitz playing the slots.

Papa Roach Holds Together Nicely Throughout "Coming Apart"

Tight slice of mainstream rock brought to us courtesy of Papa Roach. "Coming Apart" knows how to make all the right notes sound laser precise. It's through Jacoby Shaddix's vocal talents that what could have been a passable track is instead the cornerstone of vital barbaric roar. It's certainly a small package possessing an explosive bang as is evidenced by the three minute, twenty second duration. Drums splatter the scene like a noted mafioso out for bloody vengeance, the bloodier the better. Tony Palermo, a member since 2007 definitely earns his stripes here. He and Jacoby master preciseness and bring said wrathful skills to a rolling boil. Careful not to leave out Jerry Horton. He displays unwavering focus as his guitar destroys everything in its path. If you like machines that have a crackerjack engine under the hood then "Coming Apart" will suit your needs amply. Tobin Esperance puts meat on the bones via a bass sequence that barrels into your comfort zone and lays to ruin any delusion of safety you might have had. This song scoots along at a clip that necessitates both arms and both legs inside the vehicle lest they get sheared off. What I notice about "Coming Apart" which differs markedly from "Forever" is the latter sinks into your bones steadily whereas the former refuses to waste ink while you get comfortable. At the outset it's clear Jacoby walks the walk of an anguished man. The first few lyric lines set an undeniable tone for the raw emotional wound that unfolds in the stanzas to come. We sense what amounts to short term conflict resolution in lines one and two. "I'll follow you out of the dark. I tried it my way but I keep falling apart." I don't get that Jacoby looks like a beaten man but someone convinced of a more hopeful way to escape the mounting desperation locked within his soul. The next six lines aren't warm and fuzzy either. Try this on for size. "All that I see is the wickedness around me. I refuse to believe the apocalypse inside of me. I can't even trust myself. I'm burning in my skin. Standing at the gates of hell. But nobody will let me in." Chilling admission, eh? Who among us couldn't relate to "I stand here again. Forsaken in a place that feels like I can never win. Be it in love, career, family planning, or being comfortable in one's own skin the possibilities for feeling left out in the rain are extended for miles. Ten seconds in the mishmash of bass, lead guitar, and drums signals havoc but it's havoc you want to play voyeur with, to peek inside the darker workings of the human cranium. Bass and drum soon fly off the curb at the thirty second mark. The ruckus they kick up sends your tongue rolling out of your mouth and leaves you begging for heaping additional helpings. As musical feasts go "Coming Apart" pours out cornucopias of goodness piled as high as imagination can take us. The video's imagery tends towards the profusely evocative. The early mob scenes are a jaw dropping added touch. Don't get too confused though. Jacoby rises to the occasion as our fearless leader beating back the brush so we can see the unrest embossed panorama clearly. How thoughtful of Papa Roach to say what they have to say succinctly and then wrap things up. You'll find this nifty little offering on the band's new "F.E.A.R." album. In conclusion "Coming Apart" holds together nicely. What a dazzling thrill ride.

Miike Snow Gets Affably Oddball For "Genghis Khan"

When you think Swedish music your thoughts may run to a few different places. Let's not leave out Europe, whose anthem "The Final Countdown" falls into either love it or hate it. In this era it hasn't aged well but nothing wrong with guilty pleasure, right? Of course ABBA, master of the well written pop nugget can't be forgotten. This foursome owned the 1970s. Conversely you can dismiss "Barbie Girl" from Aqua. I get why people want to throw this '90s act under a bus. Then you have The Cardigans whose "Lovefool" was inescapable in 1996. What all this chat leads up to is we have another entry in the Swedish corniness circus. Enter Miike Snow, an indie pop act doing historical namedropping with "Genghis Khan". The history lesson receives an infectious chorus backup that is going to drive you nuts with how catchy it really is. The video is bound to leave you with one of the widest smiles you'll ever know in your lifetime. Andrew Wyatt doesn't rank GQ mention but for sure he makes the video pop, particularly with his spot on hilarious dance routines. It's nice when some outfit in the music stratosphere shakes things up so you're not fed a steady diet of interchangeable hit flavors of the month. The synthesizers give "Genghis Khan" its cold heart and sinister vibe. Synths have this history of getting the prickly heats going on the back of your neck. It definitely doesn't hurt that the song's staying power comes from a wicked drum through line that makes you follow the psychotic backdrop to see what lines are going to be colored in next. The piano chords stand at attention at D and then leap up a few notches which I like because that demonstrates Miike Snow uses all of the canvas they paint on, not just one fraction. Christian Karlsson and Pontus Winnberg, better known as Bloodshy & Avant know exactly where to load up on dark foreboding synths. That's why it's useful to have Andrew in the background tamping up the humor quotient. Too silly for its own good perhaps but what other factor might there be to make you want to pinch its little cheeks and utter "Isn't it cute." Yin and yang meet squarely in the middle. You'd be wise not to tune out after the opening stanza because you'd make the mistake you've entered brass knuckles territory when in fact some jocularity can be found. I'm not sure what this video's theme is based on but I sense a James Bond villain attitude underlying the humor. Tops on my list of instrumental aesthetic is a well placed synthesizer. Miike Snow proves it masters the most jovial of high notes but is sure to shuffle in the foreboding deeper registers in the way a diver bounces on the edge of his board before taking the plunge. Miike Snow has been around since 2007 and that cohesive juice serves them well. Genghis Khan would be proud. The song bearing his name possesses plenty of muscle.

The Nineties:A Look Back From The Rearview

Hello Buzz buddies. Here's another spontaneous post sans musical clip. This should please y'all's need for nostalgia if the '90s are your thing. I'd like to focus on songs that, at least in my humble opinion, made the decade great. Any Jane Child fans out there. To jar your memory Jane Child was the Canadian with the tri-level hairdo whose one mega hit was "Don't Wanna Fall In Love". At the start you knew it meant business. Such masterful production values. It sounded like a ready made hit. However it was "Welcome To The Real World" that grabbed my attention. The tune was grubby, grimy, and a little on the spooky side. If the apocalypse had a soundtrack, "Welcome To The Real World" would be on it. By contrast, lurching to the opposite end of the decade, "Hit Me Baby One More Time", had massive hit written all over it. And so Brit's coming out party began. Ice Cube scored early with "Today Was a Good Day" but i gravitated towards "Wicked". That's because his raw fury was on full display. It's "Smells Like Teen Spirit" which put Nirvana on the musical map but "Heart Shaped Box" held compelling intrigue. Of course the decade wouldn't have been complete without Hanson's "MMMBop". In '97 you couldn't go three yards in either direction without hearing it. Catchy but I get why others find it excruciatingly annoying. Such is what hits radio does. Commerce often trumps art. I never failed to succumb to the charms of New Orleans stalwarts Better Than Ezra. "In The Blood" served its case well with a eye-catching video and bass heavy sound. Women were empowered by Alanis Morrissette's "You Oughta Know". I thought "Wow, she's angry. Better duck guys." It was so refreshing to hear unabashed venom. The more you were drawn into her acidic tirades, the more you found yourself inescapably drawn to them. Prince acquitted himself well with "Letitgo" Everything you admire about his artistry was on full display. Sassy like the man himself. For cuteness you couldn't top "The Distance" from Cake, one good reason to revel in your San Francisco residency. Nice this band can be loose jointed about its importance as a cultural entity. They don't come any weepier than Toni Braxton's "Unbreak My Heart. Superb four-hanky effort and that's saying something coming from someone who doesn't tear up at much of anything all that easily. So...there's a snapshot of quality music from the decade in which that other Clinton tooted a horn. Thanks for taking my hand and strolling down memory lane. I'll jet back to the present for future posts.

Red Sun Rising Nails Some Raw Emotions

Red Sun Rising has a thing for the newly dead. How can I claim that? Check out the lyrics to the deceptively named "Emotionless" and all will become clear. Nice bonus that the beginning of the song isn't remotely the sum total. I'm saying that, unlike certain movie trailers, the song's ethos isn't given away totally by what you hear in the first minute. And what unique guitar playing by Ryan Williams at the bridge. Guitar assumes center stage in most rock ensembles. Ryan gives us material to feast on that refuses to make macho posturing its bread and butter. Mike Protich sears a hole in your guts with his haunting style. Are you really sure you want this man hovering in the shadows? The first two lines alone would be enough to send a sensitive 12 year-old to a therapist until he's 80. "With lips closed and eyes sealed you're sculpture with a pulse." Charming sentiment indeed. He moves right along to "I wanna capture your essence and keep it here forever little one." Major league palpitations connected to that suggestion. He claims to feel good about his victim not telling anyone. As for the chorus well...possibly you'd want to sleep with the lights on. "You'll just lie motionless, emotionless. You're beautiful asleep." The musicianship busts out all over. The guitar work penetrates deep down into your marrow. Pat Gerasia drums with a echo of authority. Ricky Miller belts out the discordant delight on bass. "Emotionless" already has the nightmare fodder market cornered. And what's the cherry on this sick sundae? The line "Cause you're falling apart at your seams. Time to hand me the barf bag cause that's high on the TMI scale. Red Sun Rising does know how to capture a boy's attention. This bunch goes from scaled back to powerful dagger to the heart in the same breath. You think Dave McGarry's rhythm guitar is going to steal the show but then "Emotionless" bears its cannibal fangs. The guitar grows raw and unnervingly vicious. At last an octane level to go with the dirge like subject matter. I was actually fooled into thinking the opening salvo was the chord sequence I was going to be listening to throughout. Turns out Red Sun Rising had other ideas, meaty pleasurable ideas. Would you expect anything less from an album titled "Polyester Zeal"? I think not. "Emotionless" gleefully goes for the jugular in a manner few recent songs could match. Can Mike still live with himself having been associated with this Tales From The Crypt shiver inducer? Methinks so. After it sinks its tentacles into your craw you'll have no chance of getting them out again. Everything bites down hard, and that makes for a compelling listen over and over again. The fusing of theme and amplification means this train wreck is a disaster you'll want to relive repeatedly because you can't believe what you're witnessing. In short "Emotionless" hammers away at the vulnerable emotions until they're bloody stumps. This is worth the sweat and concentration required to swallow it whole.

Red Rocker Redux? Ridiculous...

This week I've begun work in an online History of Rock class based in Fullerton College, California. For that reason my blog postings may be a shade abbreviated but hopefully still packing some food for thought. For instance Sammy Hagar's brain was picked regarding what he'd do if given the opportunity to rejoin Van Halen. Van Halen has to be the longest running music soap opera this side of Aerosmith. The band, as the book Everybody Wants Some chronicled, has had a troubled, tempestuous history. I was stunned when Sammy Hagar was summarily dismissed because he and band had a lucrative partnership which lasted 11 years. I was thrilled to see David Lee Roth and his ego leave back in 1985 because while his performing chops are unquestioned, so was his arrogance. In comes Sammy, and the raft of chart hits continued. MTV was the unwitting host for a trumped up original Van Halen lineup reunion that nobody with three functioning brain cells would mistake for genuine reconciliation. Extreme's Gary Cherone stepped in. Talented singer, wrong place, even worse time. The one Cherone era VH album failed to go platinum, sank like a stone after its deceptively high debut on the Billboard album chart. In the 2010s Van Halen emerged with Eddie, Eddie's son Wolfgang on bass, Alex, and...surprise...David Lee Roth back in. After the numerous heated exchanges surrounding Dave's ego, his return feels like hooking back up with the ex-girlfriend even though her sight makes your teeth stand on end. Working with thw man was never Eddie's problem...living with his behavior was. So back to Sammy Hagar. Should he rejoin if the circumstance was right. Van Halen has become Three Mile Island fallout shelter over the years right down to Dave and Sammy actually going on tour together. Sammy doesn't need Van Halen. He has his Cabo San Lucas tequila dealings as well as his Chickenfoot side project. If Eddie needs some warped sense of stability having Dave back then that's between Eddie, Dave, and the therapist Eddie ought to have on speed dial. Sammy, don't go there unless you want to risk being thrown under the bus again.

Bring Me The Horizon Sounds a Bit Unhappy

Give Bring Me The Horizon a five foot perimeter berth. The Brits may be singing "Happy Song" but they're anything but gleeful. Lucky for us they have their agitation meter cranked up to eleven. More unrest equals more metallic mind blowing. Nobody dialed it in here. You could quibble that the chord arrangements aren't that dynamic but if you step away from that and focus your cosmic energy on the explosiveness the band brings to an unapologetic head I promise you won't be left disappointed. Lead vocalist Oliver Sykes slides into disturbed psyche ward patient turf and isn't too unhappy to join the party. Drummer Matt Nicholls hammers away behind drums like somoeone slapped his girlfriend and brutalized his dog. Lee Malia comes with guns blazing in his unrelenting guitar salvo. Strip that from the song's toolkit and you'd lack the full spectrum of amazing "Happy Song" makes overtures to give you. Bassist Matt Kean doesn't sit small in the saddle either. He sprays his bullets everywhere, leaving no survivors in his wake. Oliver reminds us what a depraved universe we occupy. So much depression, so little time for medication in the name of relief. If only we'd sing a happy song a little bit louder then maybe we'd be happy. I'm sensing he makes this suggestion in jest. Too much overtly suggestive anger behind the fangs. This great big void threatens to consume us. Not exactly schmaltzy greeting card thinking, huh? Where "Happy People" succeeds is in using the accelerator gear to help us forget what a bleak track this is. The "S.P.I.R.I.T." chorus isn't there as a stress reduction. Rather I think it's there to poke fun at the mirth people want versus the reality they're getting. This band boards the loathing locomotive and chugs on down to a certain sort of oblivion sensitive souls couldn't absorb in one sip. With each new step on the path Oliver digs his discontent in even deeper. Giving it all you've got doesn't register so much as a blip on the cosmic radar screen. Added grist for Oliver's rage. This song wears the schizophrenia well. Jagged outside and chewy inside. Bring Me The Horizon gets bonus points for keeping in mind that no one person rules the roost. Each player gets to work his forte to the hilt. What's our benefit? Rock served rough and ready. Oliver's a diabolical force but his mates aren't far from ambling by his side stride for stride. Oliver leans into his agonies full on at about the juncture where he cranks out "But if I sing along a little fucking louder to a happy song." The disenfranchisement seeps through his pores like a cancer that refuses to stop spreading. Matt's bass can't stop the bleeding, the very reason why this collision needs to be appreciated from a close range. Lee adds kindling to the burn. Still no let up. Artistically "Happy Song" doesn't stray far from the angry man formula. That's not objectionable. Vented frustration has its place. If that skill gets honed steadily over time you can say you authored a fantastic bit of rock poetry. "Happy Song" exposes some angry men with a combustible spirit. Catch the contradictory cacophony on the forthcoming "That's The Spirit" album.

From Ashes to New Puts Us Through An Unsatisfying Wringer

I like the rock/rap fusion...so long as Linkin Park carries the torch forward. Pennsylvania act From Ashes to New borrows liberally from the Linkin Park playbook. It's not encouraging that I can't exactly hear Matt Brandyberry's rapping clearly throughout "Through It All". Not only that, Matt leaps from rap to supercharged vocals at the chorus in this manner that jolts my eyes out of their sockets, and not in an amusing way. I would have preferred it had they toned down the melodrama a hair. As a marketing strategy the video does a fine job of projecting the overwrought boy/girl conflict. Not that I don't have anything nice to say about From Ashes To New. Tim D'onofrio puts himself in an unconscious zone to do his drumming and, the results are flat out staggering. He remembered to have fun and thoughtfully took us along for the ride. He's the only band member lifting himself up above average. Matt bounces too much psychologically. Branden "Boo" Kreider has no profound effect whatsoever, an afterthought if you will. You can't coast on what Linkin Park's done so much better than you. To make matters worse, From Ashes To New doesn't have a Chester Bennington wannabe to justify its existence with. Chris Musser isn't going to blow his nu metal peers off stage. He can sing but he can't electrify. Have you check the lyric sheet? That's where the drama gets poured out thicker than BBQ sauce on brisket. So let's see what tortured soul man musings he's sharing with us. First off you don't have a heart if you're not a little saddened by the first four lines. "There's not a day that passes by. The pain has not amassed inside. It's breaking me down to the ground. It's like I crashed and died." In other words it'll send your heart to the moon on gossamer wings...not! Moving right along we get a retread helping of the man tortured by the past that won't let him go free theme. For a follow up Matt acknowledges the woman who essentially helped make him the man he is today. She gave him a chance to change. She changed him forever. You can't hear the inner yawn but it's up in my head as plain as day. I'd say we've been victimized by a strong case of nu metal style over substance. The group as a unit uses blown up hyperactive licks to cover up the fact that they aren't saying anything too terribly profound. Matt's to be commended for giving props to the woman who rocked his perspective but, hasn't that also been a sentiment echoed by swarms of other artists? Matt's not putting a new spin on the topic and his band have only been around for a few years, not long enough to make their interpretation worth the price of admission. Matt rages on about how what his lover said stays in his head. Here's where the rap gets really dopey. "An unrelenting discontent, it torments me to no extent, entrenches me just like cement. Ladies and germs, cement actually has a featured role on somebody's lyric sheet. This also doubles as the most novel thing about "Through It All". Lyrically we've been through these themes before. "Through It All" delivers nothing of lasting consequence. Even as a nu metal unabashed romp, I'm left with an empty sensation in all the areas capable of conveying a response.

Elle King Proves Her Influence In The Pop Arena

If you liked Elle King's "Ex's & Oh's" you're in for a treat. She knows how to lay it on over a sumptuous '80s styled hard rock power ballad arrangement. "Under The Influence" has this ability to work its way into your bloodstream, one deliberate vocal vamp at a time. You'll recall "Ex's & Oh's" had bounce, overstimulated kitty cat bounce. Here Elle wants you to taste the agony she's going through. If Daddy Rob Schneider isn't jazzed by her versatility of tone I don't know what else she has to do to prove she's got slow roasted pipes that ignite embers in all the right places. As you might expect, the theme on display is one's behavior under the influence, only here we're talking about a man's love being the spell caster. It's to Elle's credit that she is willing to take the consequence, breathe her last breath under the influence of the man's kiss. Oh how the temptation burns, creeps up on her, haunts her days and robs her of precious sleep. Here's an addiction she doesn't want to be talked down off of. I tend to get excited by the way the instruments leave an uneasy feeling in the pit of the stomach. The poison seeps in, grabs vital real estate, and refuses to let go. What's more I empathize with the hangover caused by rough lovemaking. Elle's been haunted by ghosts of amor past and come out the other side a better woman for it. For "Under The Influence" I don't sense remorse for the love games she and her beloved have been playing. She's just sorry kismet caught up to her. Elle has a great ingenue spirit. She's sprightly as can be and, as a consequence, that lends itself well to the mojo that's crucial to her performance. You get swept up by the bass guitar background. It's libido igniter. The drummer hammers home aftermath in all its wretched glory. I'm also taken with how the chords about thirty seconds in intensify and build up to a blissfully hard charging crescendo. You can make out Elle writhing in consternation with her own rotten luck, a luck of her own making. The second stanza brings that fantastic bass into clearer perspective. Couple that with another shot of drumming and the vodka chasers fill in what basic imagination can not. Elle' current album is, conveniently enough called "Love Stuff". Whether haunted by it or under its influence, Elle's reach extends to places that make most of us extremely uncomfortable. Her voice has fingernails that scratch your back and dig in for maximum sadistic pleasure. This beat aims to soak up the sordidness, wallow around in the dirty dealings. As epicenters go Elle kicks up a mighty wind that demands you pay attention. Would I say "Under The Influence" goes great with mixed nuts and a few cold ones? You could do worse. At this early stage in her career Elle wears the temptress hat in malevolent glee. "Under The Influence" isn't overproduced at all. Au contraire. It has just the right seasoning to uncork a fiery straight to table mouth watering revelation.