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Wednesday, December 30, 2015

The Root of the Problem Is Imagine Dragons Milk The Chorus

Noodling around in the studio surely equates to necessary evil. For Imagine Dragons I can tell there are various elements fighting to create an enjoyable unit. Piano works well. Chorus feels harmonious to a point. Vocals ring solid. However, where's the wow that leads to a song that lingers, that people will talk about for some time to come? That folks is a mystery lacking a clear resolution. Dan Reynolds has a nice voice but between the tripping over the amp plug in percussion and the thick texture radiating from said voice "Roots" fails to give Dan the showcase his voice needs. The song isn't long enough to justify the sheer number of times the chorus gets squashed in. I think the piano takes uneven center stage at the expense of a well rounded sound. The lyrics aren't very captivating simply because, again, not a long enough song to get very comfortable with them. Dan sums up day to day fine but we've heard it so many times we could recite it in our collective sleep. "Another high, another low." Yes, it sounds like something familiar, achingly familiar. It's hard to work up much lather when the guys themselves appear lost in improvisation mode, unable to pick a foundation and stick with it. At under three minutes, how can you bring "Roots" over to the couch and invite it in for a cocktail or three? Answer? You really can't. Imagine Dragons is capable of exerting far more enthusiasm than this song would indicate. These guys are based in Las Vegas, gambling mecca of the universe. You'd hope that daylight 24/7 excitement would lead to better writing but, as I've heard it said in my own family, "If wishes were horses then beggars would ride. The horse I speak of clearly is staying put in the stable. It's a tad disheartening that Daniel Wayne Sermon, Ben McKee, and Daniel Platzman are barely heard from outside of the chorus. It might have been nice had they been given license to ramp up the focus on guitar somewhat. You don't get much chance to let the piano drip into your conscious mind. Talk about being thrown into the deep end of the water without so much of a howdy doo. I know lots of what gets tossed into the public eye amounts to heaping globs of disposable popular culture. "Roots" may proudly (?) take its place. "Roots" has not demonstrated why it should take root in your eardrums. Light breeze, nothing more.

Sunday, December 27, 2015

Foo Fighters Knock Out a Sinfully Good Track

Dave Grohl could just phone it in at this juncture of his career...but no, that's not the Foo Fighters way as demonstrated on the new "Saint Cecilia". Everything that makes Dave Grohl a top drawer vocalist and his band an unbelievably prolific juggernaut is on full display. Dave storms out of the gate, guns blazing. Chris Shiflett uncorks amazing guitar riffs wherever you turn. Taylor Hawkins continues to demonstrate why he's one of the contemporary rock scenes greatest drum beaters. This chorus gives you your buck's worth with change to spare. What the Foo Fighters excel at spans the gamut from their clever videos ("Learning To Fly" anyone?) to the knack for giving the masses a little body to lean into instead of a mere snack long on empty calories. I was taken in by the late game chord switcheroo which was planted at a time when most band would be content to glide into home on the strength of the time honored fade out. Dave loves you. He wants you to leave his concerts satisfied. To do that you'd have to come to represent with a killer discography. The search for the smoking gun ends here. If there is any sign of slowdown in the band I haven't seen cracks in the firmament show as yet. The advantage some rock bands have like, say, Aerosmith, is their fans know what kind of album to expect. The Foos don't come anywhere near playing that exploitative game. All you know is whatever package the outfit brings to your doorstep it's going to be all in, or not in at all. Dave eases up on his fork tines shoved in the eye sockets screeching he's brought on some cuts. Nice of you to do so Dave. Leave the Cookie Monster slanted vocals for the dudes in metalcore. Dave isn't a pompous showman begging you to like him. When he wants to he can come off like a seasoned conversationalist who's singing rather than engaging you in one of the issues of the day. You know when certain all-star groups hit their stride and then settle into that comfortable niche. Sports fans, specifically those of the NBA stripe recognize that the chemistry the San Antonio Spurs was whipped into fever hysteria through years of learning how to mesh. In his late 30s, Social Security check age in this field, Tim Duncan still commands respect. 21 years after Dave emerged from Nirvana's ashes to form this little 'ol side project, The Foo Fighters have gotten stronger, as if that's possible. To this day I'm floored by "Wasting Light". "Saint Cecilia" adds one more heavenly link to Foo Fighters deeply entrenched musical legacy. They're on my short list of bands that get me stoked just thinking about what they'll cook up next.

Wednesday, December 23, 2015

The 1975 Wins Style Points In 2015

The 1975 has decided to shimmy its way into our hearts with "Ugh", a sophisticated easy flowing R&B jam lifted from its amusingly titled album, "I Like It When You Sleep, for You Are So Beautiful, Yet So Unaware of It". Nothing wrong with a light romp to grease the wheels of a choice after hours party. Best of all, there's nothing about the song that makes me want to exclaim "Ugh!" Oddly that interjection never shows up in the lyrics. Talk about a false selling point. Suave doesn't even begin to cover what The 1975 has to offer. Lyrically these guys know their way around a clever visual. For example...can you possibly beat "I know your lungs need filling since your gums have lost their feeling". Approved by the American Dental Association and its Lung Association counterpart. Matthew Healy's voice doesn't aim to bowl you over, merely look you in the eyes and dare you to turn away from the bon vivant overtones engulfing the room. It wouldn't be a British bash were there no Adam Hann strumming his heart out from the guitar end of the creative spectrum. George Daniel aces drum backdrop school. He's not there to scream "Look at me! Look at me!" If you can settle into celebration mode more readily thanks to him then his work is done. Matt's a brave boy for admitting in song "I don't have the capacity for fucking." See if any of our red-blooded American males could ever pull that off. You'll even get a full admitting of the song's limitations in the form of "Oh the kick won't last for long but the song only lasts 3 minutes." If you're looking for him to apologize for having a vain, shallow side then don't bother. Quite clearly he said "When I said I liked it better without my money, I lied. It took a little while to recognize that I, I'm not giving it up again." Some forms of honesty might be misconstrued as a turnoff but somehow The 1975 makes overt flaunting sound almost noble. Technically "Ugh" lasts 3 minutes and 12 seconds but Matt embellishes the truth in good faith and for an admirable reason. Admit it, you'll be swiveling your hips in time to this martini soaked crowd pleaser. It takes so much effort these days to put a song out in the world that's going to be kissed with staying power. Give us the right hook and anything's possible. The 1975 formed in Manchester, birthplace to much quality tune terrain. In our social media era lots of what we hear strikes as being overtly disposable. "Ugh" does slide off the ear at select moments but, if you merely want affable notes to go with the cocktail you're imbibing or the bite size snacks the barkeep places before you you'll not be disappointed. Matt's been knocked silly twice by the woman in his life and doesn't mind bragging to her in much the same way countless rappers have about his bling, in this instance his things, his car, his living as a total package. Obviously his on camera presence shows how the camera smiles on him. You and I both know the beautiful people don't always get top billing. Why The 1975 chose to title this song "Ugh!" escapes my rational mind. Sure you wouldn't confuse it with the highest art but it's a friend you'd want to chat with for at least a half hour or so. "Ugh" merits a clinking of glasses for giving casual soirees everywhere proper British zest, applied with a dash instead of a drench.

Sunday, December 20, 2015

Panic! At The Disco Scribbles a Pretty Love Letter To LA

Billy Crystal's Saturday Night Live character Fernando once said "It's better to look good than to feel good. Panic! At The Disco passed that test with flying colors by virtue of "LA Devotee". All the glamour you'd expect from such a breathtaking city comes on full display. Brendon Urie, who has entrusted himself with the entire gamut of instruments since Spencer Smith has fallen out of the picture demonstrates how the added responsibilities are not spiking his blood pressure. Solid drumming right up front only leads to greater smile moments from then. Energy and vibrancy in short bursts add up to a single you'd want to listen to with the top rolled down and the night breezes whipping your hair around. We already figured the video budget for the band had to impressive or else the epic dramas they've shown us would not have come to pass. "LA Devotee" exudes excitement. The photos shot around town only add to the now legendary mystique. No lack of imagery reminding you that LA invented beautiful people. Verse 1 succeeds in mixing black eyes, a black car and a zodiac sign, in this case Pisces into the froth In fact black takes its place as the dominant color on the color wheel as we're visited by it again via the black magic leading off stanza 2 and the black tar lurking in stanza three. Aries joins Pisces as a zodiac element. The imagination was meant to expand and Panic! At The Disco never forgets. "The Emperor's New Clothes" proved my point. It's not an easy video to watch but the song itself goes beyond the call of regular rock entertainment. Whether motoring along innocuously or blazing at top speed, no matter how many members are sitting in to jam, Panic! throws itself into the creative process. If there's any sign that they'e not fully immersed in the sick head games they transfer to art I confess I haven't seen them yet. Looking at the video makes me envious for those who call LA home. One long roller coaster ride of spectacular highs, either land produced or chemically enhanced. That's what a little white wine at the fringed will do for you. Brendon alternates between laser sharp belting out of lyrics and fooling around with the chorus. LA's bustles explodes all over "LA Devotee" The revered landmarks alone pay tribute to a city for which hard livings comes to be a birthright. The cinematographer surely deserved some extra ducats for his avant garde camera angles. "LA Devotee" can tamp down boredom spasms in its own special way. Voyeurism has its privileges. "LA Devotee" has me seeing stars both astral and screen legend variety. That's how you unload wallop in three and a half minutes or less.

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

Here's To Nothing More Ladling Out Delicious, Swerving Rock

I can't say enough positive things about Nothing More weaving in and out of tantalizing sound progressions throughout "Here's To The Heartache". This effort falls squarely under the umbrella of rock as effective therapy. Not that the subject matter breaks new ground. However, what it does the retreaded material bears sizable notice. The San Antonio outfit clicks in every facet where one can click. Jonny Hawkins cuts a mean figure behind the mic. He's exceedingly crisp to the ear. He's singing from an unobstructed place not fogged up by jaded world weariness. His voice spells out the clear and present dangers of life on our shared rotating orb. Ben Anderson bashes skins with unbridled aplomb. His beats are the lip smacking dressing to this mouth watering salad of dimension, timbres, and pitch. Daniel Oliver knows his way around the bass, and it shows no end. Mark Vollelunga's oomph behind the lead guitar strap cannot be underestimated. The opening harmonies sound nothing like the chorus. You get two separate, unique flavors for the price of one. Lick your lips and your appetite for rock that forges its own trail gets to be satisfied. Jonny reminds us of life's fragility and that getting complacent flat out isn't an option. He makes lost dreams and mistakes made appear noble even if for us all it translates to a losing effort, some much later than others. Personally, I can easily visualize Jonny raising a glass to the bruises, scars, and heartache accumulated along his personal trail. Because his voice rings out so plainly, it makes it easy for him to be followed, respected, maybe even feared a bit. He reminds us Fate cannot and will not be staved off indefinitely, that no matter how much he holds someone dear, a fade out is going to make itself known. Not exactly a valley of uplift but there's the plain truth. I appreciate Nothing More conveying an attitude not of depressed staring at the navel but one of steeled, accepting resolve. The future may look bleak but hope is not without glimmers. Jonny is all about the life in review posture. "Here's To The Heartache" gets ample room to breathe, a tempo befitting a song wrapped up in universal recognition of theme. The journey leads to an inevitable conclusion but we hear him engage in such a way that we know the journey isn't hurried by any stretch of the imagination. It's as if he's being brave enough to smell the roses while he's around to give them a sniff. "Here's To The Heartache" places high premium on ear grabbing melody and that really works well for all concerned. Nothing More uses its collective imagination to remarkable effect. The sound resonates off the walls your own imagination can paint in at its leisure. The rock landscape would be nothing without heroes willing to fall on their swords for what matters most to them. "Here's To The Heartache" proves it's worth raising a glass to in the name of cautious optimism.

Saturday, December 12, 2015

Boy and Bear Fall Off The Wire Due To Mumbled Singing

Australia and quality music have a long reputation. AC/DC springs to mind. For the adult contemporary minded among us there was Little River Band and, don't shoot me for liking them, Air Supply. Olivia Newton-John has decades long credibility as does Sir Elton John. Let's not forget INXS, the Aussie juggernaut of the '80s and its luscious lead singer the dearly departed Michael Hutchence. I can honestly say Boy and Bear don't follow in that tradition, nor does it have a chance at doing so if its lead singer doesn't stop mumbling. David Hosking needs to open his mouth a little wider so that syllables can come out and play. I have a lyrics sheet to cheat off of so apparently human language is part of the equation in "Walk the Wire". Jonathan Hart reminds us that keyboards play a starring role in the act. In fact that's the lone redeeming quality of the song. I could have used these three minutes noodling on a store bought keyboard and the experience would have been more rewarding. David Symes fiddles around on bass somewhere but, for the life of me, I can't make it out. Timothy Hart's drum beats are faintly palpable, if they're there at all. Killian Gavin's guitar gets pushed to the background too. The narrow focus stays on David, keyboards, and unshakable mumbling. Boy meets girl. Boy tumbles into scene he's uncomfortable with. Boy encourages girl to take his hand and humor the faded advice he's bestowing upon her, a woman who's earned the right to be brave in his opinion. Two souls teetering along the high wire, trying not to fall into the briny deep below. I could have had a heightened emotional connection but no, David's not talking clearly enough to make me want to give him the time of day much less sympathize with him. Dave begs with Fate to be saved from himself. Maybe that's why his vocal delivery is so meek. He's trying to answer his own prayer and do his own saving. He claims "There's no heaven in a folk song". So to that John Denver lovers out there, prepare to be richly disappointed. "Walk the Wire" is disappointment personified. There's potential for a warm fire but, the band forgot to bring along enough kindling and/or matches. One dimensional artistry isn't conducive to brand name loyalty. If only Boy and Bear sounded like a five person unit. Not even close to reality. "Walk the Wire" runs out of steam too fast. If you're a wise music consumer, you'll politely smile at this song and move on to something bouncier.

Wednesday, December 9, 2015

Lorde Adds Shimmer To The Shake With Disclosure's Help

To those waiting with bated breath for Lorde's next musical move take heart. She's brought electronica act Disclosure to help her titillate the audience. This jam goes on like a glitter suit topped with Lorde's woman on the edge presence. Disclosure consists of brothers Howard and Guy Lawrence who are careful to toss their pixie dust of aural enchantment around Lorde instead of suffocating her airspace. If you caught a glimpse of the video for "Magnets" I bet you weren't counting on the maniacal ending. Lorde has her issues to work through apparently. That swimming pool's going to need a refurbishing job. But, on with the review. The textures of "Magnets" match Lorde's panache perfectly. The arousal quotient goes high, higher, and highest. How does one "drink deep from a lie"? Only Lorde could give you a ready answer to that question. The woman's got that poetic license working in fifth gear. The brainchild behind "Royals" has this way of getting in your face without any quarter being given. That Disclosure's been called in to back light her romping in sensual shades of chartreuse only helps Lorde assume an even greater woman of mystery position. The percussion opening things up makes a banana daiquiri sound like the most natural thing in the world. Then come the synthesizers and we're off to the races. Lorde doesn't have to do anything other than project her passions for the camera to get tongues wagging. There's plenty of beautiful people interaction in the video as well. Perfect pearly white smiles, drama up one leg and down the other. What Lorde does well is invite you into an alternate universe you're apt to like better than the vanilla ice cream land you may or may not be making your peace with. She was made for the mini-movie experience videos have come to represent. What tension she gives off, what fervor she brings to her overall show. "Magnets" turns the flair up a notch once Disclosure throws body on the synthesizers rather than allowing the percussion to be the sole source of staggered imagination. As she plays rough with her video boy toy, Disclosure gives her the right dimensions of ambient noise. Lorde's choral refrain "Let's embrace the point of no return" sounds very palatable after you put Disclosure's melodies beneath. Past the 1:20 mark the synths take a hike and we return to flat out percussion in full majesty. Cue parade rolling down the street if that's what you desire. There's not much to this party besides synth and Lorde vamping it up. Does that make "Magnets" a song you'll want to refer to time and again when the situation demands it? The virtuosity both in Disclosure's instrument and Lorde's deliberately provocative one are fine but, that said, the overall product isn't built to last. "Magnets" isn't going to prompt much long term attachment.

Monday, December 7, 2015

Pop Evil Shows Us a High Old Time

Are you missing '80s style metal guitar solos? You have a friend in Pop Evil. The Michigan tribe returns front and center with "Up" the album and "Ways To Get High". In movies, the trailer allows you to visualize the jumping off juncture of a movie. At times that works to a filmmaker's disservice because if the trailer constitutes the bet part of the film then not too many will bother with the remainder for obvious reasons. If you were under the impression that the bass which opens "Ways To Get High" pretty much represents the song's creative zenith then I'm pleased to report you're greatly mistaken. While Matt DeRito's bass playing nudges a sexy frame of reference to our ears that's a mere appetizer for the scrumptious soup you're going to slurp down wholesale. The bridge captivates richly. Note after note sends me back to the Sunset Strip, to '80s metal glory. The longer Nick Fueling's guitar gets the chance to roam wild and free, the better it begins to sound. Joshua Marunde (AKA Chachi Riot) drums his demented little heart out. What righteous fun. As you venture out into the deeper waters this song gains added complexities. The harmonies can be raw one minute, starry-eyed the next. In New Orleans they might refer to this chef talent as jambalaya. These cooks don't fool around by any stretch. They're head long into jangling chords before you've had a chance to let the bass simmer a spell and take root in your well-worn memory banks. What Joshua does behind the kit conveniently gives "Ways To Get High" a sturdy backbone. It's a small pinch of rock heaven but then again who said a pinch was nowhere near good enough to suffice. Leigh Kakaty avoid frills at the mike stand. Basic attention grabbing voice technique specifically designed to hold your interest which, in this highly short attention span era is definitely a positive thing. Merging Leigh and Nick with rhythm guitarist Dave Grahs for the chief vocal harmonies demonstrates what can happen if you give relentless focus a chance to flower. So is there a time of day when "Ways To Get High" sounds best? Personally I'd shoot for right as the day turns to night, little dash of residual sunset to savor. Throw some party libations and you've got the backdrop for one dandy evening of classy entertainment. The choice of chords stays pretty constant but what Pop Evil gets from its handiwork proves value-oriented song craft has its place in contemporary music. Nobody's trying to knock your perspective on its ear. Pop Evil wants only to get you to watch its electric waves come in and out of the shore. Late in the proceedings some '60s era beachfront bliss assumes its place at the table. Bellying up to this bar won't leave you pocket foolish. The thing to watch carefully in listening to Nick at the chorus is how he asserts himself between Nick and Dave. You know who's flashing the alpha dog tonsils here. "Ways To Get High" makes detox appear to be one of the dumbest concepts ever. There's no hangover to suffer from here. Simply hard rock knocking you on your petard.

Thursday, December 3, 2015

Alabama Shakes Color Outside The Lines

Alabama Shakes ratchet down the speed for the title track "Sound & Color". This leaves we the listeners the chance to let the fine granules of meaning pulse through our collective vein. This effort begins innocuously enough, with soft sensual keyboards assuming the foundation. Frankly, I was wondering when Brittany Howard was going to let her supercharged lungs kick into high gear. You can rest easy knowing she doesn't take too long to allow her presence to be supremely felt. Hers is a voice drenched in class, soul, and undeniable vitality. She's handy picking guitar too. Zac Cockrell isn't as noticeable a presence on bass but, if you linger long enough you can make out what makes him a life affirming presence in the band. Steve Johnson's percussion is not overwhelming in its delivery but, again, lean in close and you'll hear traces of what he brings to the party. I was thirty seconds into "Sound & Color", knowing full well that the song was a taut three minutes at best. I'm glad the words kicked in before it appeared all might be sacrificed on the altar of cutesy instrumentation. You'll appreciate it best going down slow and deliberate. Brittany fancies herself a modern day Aesop with her own universally noticeable fable. I bet we've all mused upon Life's strangeness. The longer you live the more apparent that becomes. In between numerous repetitions of the title Brittany steps up to the plate for her impressions of what's unfolding around her. She correctly gleans that "This life ain't like a book". I beg to differ, at least lately. What with the latest round of mass shootings, Life feels like a grim fairy tale. But I leave the world affair pondering to talking heads bearing the proper qualifications. Brittany states "I wanna touch a human being". Digital dependency appears to have eroded this vital connective tissue so Brittany's to be praised for optimism, if in fact that's what her words convey. In the video outer space takes center stage. Wonder what visiting space aliens would think of our kind based on recent behaviors. I appreciate Alabama Shakes shifting to an easygoing frame of mind as opposed to the rich gumbo bubbling up from "Don't Wanna Fight". That shows us the band isn't some one trick pony milking ghosts of soulful fret picking past. Brittany, if you got the chance to see her sing on venerable Saturday Night Live, lights up when the spotlight lands on her. The others know full well to follow her lead and, don't get caught up in asking too many burdensome questions. The video imagery glides along in a similar fashions to the overall beat. The group's steadily garnering a richly deserved reputation. "Sound & Color" sounds like the ideal morsel to put additional cement on that rep.