Radiohead: Kid A

Things to dislike about Kid A:

1.  Very pretentious.

2. The lyrics sound like they were drawn out of a hat.  And that's because they were.  Which is a pretty pretentious way of coming up with lyrics.

3.  "Fodder for the animals / Living on Animal Farm."  That's a coherent lyric, I guess.  But aren't Orwell references in rock songs kind of passe?  Like, leave that shit to Roger Waters.

4.  Very few of the songs resemble traditional rock and roll, even traditional art rock.  There are few things you could describe as "choruses."  One of those things goes "I'm not here / This isn't happening."  Which, like, you're a rock star, get over your shit.

5. It's hard to dance to.  I suppose you can jump around to "Idioteque" the way Thom Yorke does.  But even that requires you to be pretty weird.

6. If the album is indeed a concept record, then it is a maddeningly vague one.  Because, again, the lyrics were drawn out of a hat.  The frozen landscapes on the cover have some folks saying the record is about the apocalypse.  And that might be true.  But if that is the case, then how come Thom is so concerned about the goddamn furniture on "Morning Bell"?  Like, the fucking world is ending, man!  Ice Age coming, Ice Age coming.  He's probably talking about the movie Ice Age.

7. Where are the guitars?

8. Where are the hooks?

9.  Guitar hooks?  Nowhere!

10.  I guess the band was kind of embarrassed by how fun and rocking OK Computer was/is.  They seemed determine to make a record that didn't rock at all.  Though I guess some it rocks.  "Optimistic" has that heavy riff.  "The National Anthem," too, with that bassline that doesn't change at all.

11.  Very repetitive.  "Everything.  Everything.  Everything.  Everything.  In its right place."  Did you really need four everythings to make that clear?

12, "Treefingers" isn't all that great.

The Stooges: Raw Power

Two kinds of people: Bowie mix people, and Iggy mix people.

Bowie mix people:

"Ooh, look! Some art!  How delightful!  What a fine piece to observe while drinking tea and listening to the fuzzy, artsy stylings of the groundbreaking Iggy Pop and the Stooges' record, "Raw Power."  Yes, oh.  Just me and my students observing art and listening to Iggy Pop in New York, how great.  What a cutting edge transition between the Velvet Underground and Patti Smith!  It's the missing link, oh."

Iggy mix people:

"YEAHHHHHHHHH!  YEAH, YEAH, YEAH!  WHOOOO!!  ROCK!  AND!  ROLL!"




I'd much rather be around the latter group.

Rolling Stones: Black and Blue

Mick hates it.  But who cares what Mick thinks, really?  Does his distaste for this record come from the fact that it's not so typically "Stonesy"?  The band has been playing themselves playing themselves for decades now, and seem to have forgotten that what made the Stones great was not just the stupid dirty sexy rock image: it was the songs, and the variety.  "Black and Blue" has eight, tremendously varied songs.  I think it might be the band's most underrated record ("Satanic Majesty" seems to have finally found the freaky cult it deserves), and maybe their third best from the 70s.

It's loose, it's jammy, it's all about grooves.  But, again, different grooves.  "Hot Stuff" does the pre-"Miss You" disco thing.  "Hand of Fate" is a Keith riffy rock groove.  "Cherry Oh Baby" is a reggae cover.  "Melody" is smoky barroom jazz groovy fun, with Billy Preston!  "Hey Negrita" is filthy!  "Crazy Mama" is great!  And you want ballads?  Well, the near clones "Memory Motel" and "Fool to Cry" kill!

Still, no questions the diversity of the record, and most people hate it, still.  So why is it all so great?  I think the production helps.  The band seems to have temporarily kicked their drugs, at least in the studio... So everything is crystal clear.  The songs that were designed to be great, like "Fool to Cry," are so made greater, and the songs that are obvious "throwaways," like "Cherry," are pretty damn fun to sing along to.

This is the Stones REALLY being the Stones, i.e. not being "The Stones, the planet's best rock band, or whatever."  This is the Stones experimenting!  This is the Stones branching out!  That's the Stones, guys!  That's the real Stones!

D'Angelo: Black Messiah

The immediate response to "Black Messiah" has been positive, to say the least.  So allow me to anticipate the backlash to this very good record with a bit of my own contrarian shittiness.

The typical crack on D'Angelo is that the man doesn't really have an identity of his own.  Yes, he has a "sound" that is easy to identify as the "D'Angelo sound"-- think spare but groovy percussion, put super high in the mix; some guitar licks and keyboard riffs sprinkled in here and there; multi-tracked falsetto vocals all over the damn-- but that sound is really just a mixture of previously existing soul sounds.  "Voodoo" was Al Green and Marvin Gaye; "Black Messiah" adds in a bunch of Funkadelic guitars and Parliament studio whackery.

For me, the lack of "sonic originality" isn't too big of a deal.  As Dave Marsh has pointed out, soul music is syncretic: getting from one act to another usually just involves adding or subtracting a few time-tested elements (example: The Isley Brothers are Motown funk with Hendrix pyrotechnics).  What bugs me, then, at least on "Black Messiah," is the seeming lack of "vision."  The timing of the record's release and its somewhat pompous liner notes ask us to view it as a political album (certainly, 90% of the critical establishment has not had a problem following these cues).  But I dunno.  What is political about "Black Messiah" isn't exactly deep-- cool a couplet as it may be, "All we wanted was a chance to talk / 'stead we only got outlined in chalk" says not-a-whole-lot about contemporary race relations-- and what isn't political about "Black Messiah," is, well, most of the record.  Lyrics like the aforementioned couplet get pasted to the front of the mix every so often, which might lead one to think that the majority of the record is social commentary.  But what about all those words you can't locate any meaning at all for, given how mumbled D's vocals are and how much noise his band creates?

"1000 Deaths" is an angry rock song, so, alright, we'll say that one is political.  "The Charade" has that line I just quoted... So obviously that too.  That leaves us with 10 songs, i.e. the majority of the record.  "Ain't That Easy" is a classic D'Angelo boast.  "Sugah Daddy" is about, uh, a Sugah Daddy (I'm assuming... again... It's VERY hard to make out the words on this album... the insane amount of vocal effects does not help.)  "Really Love" is a love song.  "Another Life" probably is, too.  "The Door" is a break-up song.  "Til It's Done" and "Prayer" COULD be political, but only if we interpret them in the loosest metaphorical sense.  Same goes for "Back to the Future": a biased critic might see "I just wanna go back baby / Back to the way we were" as some longing for a better political past, but it could just as easily be a lament for lost love (especially as the past for blacks in America has not exactly been, you know, GREAT).

What I'm trying to say is that "Black Messiah" is not a political record.  If it is about anything, then it's probably about the subject of all D'Angelo's prior records: himself.  This is not necessarily in itself a bad thing.  I mean, shit... He IS the Black Messiah: I don't care what his liner notes say.  He knows that only HE is making this sort of soul music in the year 2014.  He knows that if he doesn't resurrect these smooth rhythmic sounds for this generation, no one will.

But even if we imagine that "Black Messiah" is a record about bringing the past to life-- a record about resurrection-- it doesn't really hold together.  In some respects, this is a great thing.  For one, these songs are fantastically diverse: ranging from funk-metal ("1000 Deaths," which I HAVE to mention again, if only because everyone else has mentioned it a million times, too) to pop-jazz ("Betray My Heart," which might be the closest we get to a "classic D'Angelo ballad" here, and also doubles nicely as a statement of purpose), and then from rough-hewn soul ("Ain't That Easy," which would be a perfect opener if not for the distracting VOCAL EFFECTS, GOD) to psychedelic tapestries of sound ("The Charade" is pretty bad-ass).  Sadly, the diversity has a dark side: too many of these songs feel underdeveloped, included to show D'Angelo's breadth... at the tragic expense of his depth.  "The Door," for example, is nice, but I really do wish the man had come up with a melody line that didn't just mimic the whistle and guitar part to a tee.  "Sugah Daddy" is a ton of fun, but jeez, is it ever lightweight: even "Chicken Grease" seems to have more edge to it.  Part Two of "Back to the Future" is just a reprise of Part One's admittedly cool bridge: why does it exist?

This gets back to what I was saying about vision.  D has put together some very, very nice sounds here.  But... Dammit... What's the POINT?  Where's the EMOTION?  Where's the MEANING?  Show me one song here that is even a fraction as affecting as "Africa."  You can't.  Shit, you can't even show me one that's as balls-out as "How Does It Feel?," which was a SINGLE last time around.  None of the love songs on "Black Messiah" are as sexy as "The Line," and none are as intimate and beautiful as "The Root."

Essentially, D'Angelo comes off like a schizophrenic musical sociopath on this, his comeback record.  It's like he felt the need to touch every soul base but forgot to include, err, SOUL.  All the time and effort put into "Black Messiah" SHOWS: what's lacking is the spark that turned nearly everything on "Voodoo" into a stone classic.

But what do I mean by "spark"?  Honestly... It's hard to say.  There's just something missing here.  You know what it might be?  It might be D'Angelo's voice.  On "Brown Sugar" and "Voodoo," D makes it very clear what his most valuable asset is.  He puts it up front, he enunciates his lyrics, he double-tracks it, layers it, and does everything with it: coos, yelps, cries, croons, shouts, raps, etc.  On "Black Messiah," D obscures his voice, and constantly.  There are very few places here where we really care about what D himself has to sing-- the focus is always on someone or something else, be it a crazzzy horn part or an army of distorting effects.

Which makes me wonder: D'Angelo is pushing forty.  Has he lost his voice?

I shudder when I think of these things.  If I've seemed harsh this time around, know that it's because I love the man.  Truthfully, there is much to love about "Black Messiah," and a handful of songs that easily belong in the D'Angelo canon.  But we all need to settle down a bit, I think.  Let's think about how we appraise lest the backlash overwhelm any hope of a true soul revival.  Yes?

D'Angelo: Voodoo

"Voodoo"... a fine title, indeed.  It is a stew of influences, this record: a smooth blend of Sly Stone horns, Marvin Gaye voices, Prince rhythms, Al Green come-ons, and, err, Method Man and Redman.  But the way it works on you, the listener, is a kind of Voodoo, too: it takes a while, but once it gets you, it fucking absolutely fucking POSSESSES you.

I remember the first time I listened to it.  It didn't seem like much, then; in fact, it struck me as a record that would be fairly easy to dismiss.  The drum tracks all seemed identical, and you could probably count to ten in the space between any two snare hits.  The bass grooves were deep, but also simple, mostly based around a couple notes repeated to infinity.  And D'Angelo himself was charming, but not too original-sounding: a guy who had a million voices, none of which he could truly call his own.

So I let the CD sit there and I composed little invectives against all the samey-sounding tracks on the record... The way "Playa Playa" started the record off weakly, the jarring inclusion of Method and Red, the general lyrical corniness, the go-nowhere-ness of "The Root," etc.

Imagine my surprise when I sorta started to like "Spanish Joint," and started to see it as a weird detour on a record that was otherwise very monotonous.  The speed of the groove got me into it... The near zaniness of D'Angelo's vocal arrangement kept me there.

In being kept there, I gradually got invested in "Feel Like Makin Love," the album's next track, as well.  Not D'Angelo's song, but still: that goddamn drum sound.  That huge drum-and-clap-and-organ beat that just could not be denied.  And the horn break, which was straight out of "There's A Riot Goin On"...But did even Sly ever come up with a groove so irresistibly groovy?

Can you see where this is going?  Next came the single, "How Does It Feel?," which sports one of the all-time great soul guitar licks.  After that, "Chicken Grease," bolstered by, again, an infectious guitar line and a seemingly bottomless groove.  Then "The Line," with its incredible chorus, so full of innuendo but still smooth and sly as fuck.  "Playa Playa" soon became a GREAT way to start a record-- both an epic brag and utter proof of the boast-- just as "Africa" became a perfect closer-- hushed, intimate, and utterly beautiful.

I still haven't gotten into "One Mo Gin."  Gimme some time... I'm sure I'll come around.  "Voodoo" is an immaculately written and conceived record, through and through.  I still cannot tell you exactly why.  At a certain point, though, songs that begin by sounding identical all develop unique identities, from the Sam Cookey balladry of "Send it On" to the gritty social commentary of "Devil's Pie."  D'Angelo finds that special place that Stevie Wonder once occupied, a musical zone where everything feels both intensely personal and appealingly universal, and he keeps it up for SEVENTY minutes.  It's an incredible achievement.

The Velvet Underground: White Light, White Heat

It seems safe to say that the Velvet Underground are one of the most overrated bands of all time.  Yes, everything they did was very, very, oh-so important, and all the album covers are iconic, and Lou Reed, and Nico, and feedback, and Warhol, yes, yes, so influential.  But have you listened to their records lately?

"White Light, White Heat" has a reputation as one of the first and best "noise rock" or "proto punk" records.  Noisy, it unquestionably is.  The thing is drenched in feedback, and not of the stylized, great-sounding Hendrix variety: we're talking raw explosions of guitar dissonance.  We're talking "Sister Ray," which is seventeen minutes of the same, distorted-ass three-chord guitar riff.  We're talking "The Gift," which is eight minutes of sludgy jamming underneath a stupid story that you probably thought was clever in high school but is actually kind of overwrought and meaningless.

"The Gift" could stand for the entire record, in fact.  Like much of the Velvets career, the whole thing is just so damn surface level.  It's goal is not to make you dance, and certainly not to MOVE you: it's to shock you.  It's to make you think, "Wow, these guys are so smart and clever!"  The first time you hear the super HILARIOUS IRONICAL ending of "The Gift"-- O. Henry lite, if ya ask me-- you think, "Wow."  But once you're over that initial state of shock, there's not much else to do.  It's hard to latch onto the actual music of "The Gift," which is based around TWO chords for, again, EIGHT minutes.  TWO chords, EIGHT minutes, no variation, no sub-riffs, no melodic ideas.  Yeah, important.  But good?

"The Gift" is an art project.  The Velvet Underground is an art project.  They had talent.  Lou Reed and Sterling Morrison were great guitar players when they wanted to be-- check out the riffs and solos on the band's excellent self-titled release for evidence.  They seemed capable of terrific rock and roll, but "White Light White Heat" is, by and large, NOT rock and roll.  It is arty noise, or noisy art.  And not even great art, because, once more, there ain't much depth to it.  It's all about visceral thrills.

Course, "visceral thrills" do work in rock and roll, and quite well, if done right.  "Fun House" by the Stooges doesn't have a great deal of variety or philosophical weight, but it is tremendous rock and roll, because the Stooges seem to believe in it, and the invest a time and effort into their music that seems to be too passe for super-cool New Yorkers.  The tracks on "White Light White Heat" that COULD be as exciting as, say, "Down on the Street"-- "I Heard Her Call My Name" and "Sister Ray" in particular-- are sabotaged by poor production and poor songwriting decisions.  The two-chord (see a pattern?) groove that occupies most of the space of "Call My Name" could have been masterful, like the band's later "What Goes On," but they spoil it with muddy drums and endless guitar noodling.  (How come it's cool when Lou does it, but lame when Yes does it, by the way?)

The two songs here that I'd say work as both great rock and possible art are, surprise, the two shortest and most "conventional."  The title track is a Phil-Spector-by-way-of-hell masterpiece-- everything seems pushed up to the front, and Lou Reed is in full-on bad-ass don't-give-a-fuck mode.  And "Here She Comes Now" is pretty!  (Though Nirvana would later turn it into the sort of "actually rocking" rock song that the Velvets were always too pretentious to attempt.)

The rest are just so terribly flawed.  Is is supposed to sound this way, i.e. shitty?  I don't care.  You can be lo-fi and still write engaging melodies (see Guided by Voices).  You can be noisy and still dynamic (see "Let it Bloom" by the Black Lips).  You can be arty and still FUN (see... shit... Richard Hell?).

Time to stop sucking up to the New York press, rockers.  A "knowingness" about rock does not indicate a "rockingness" about music.

ICEAGE: You're Nothing

Alternative rock, indie rock, rock and roll-- everyone knows it's sissy and lame now, so it's great to hear a band attempt what ICEAGE attempts on "You're Nothing," i.e. aggressive, high-energy guitar music, with screaming and feedback and noise and short, punchy tracks.

The problem for me here, then, is in the execution.  Simply put, there's hardly a hook to be found.  I don't mind this too much on the songs that attempt chaos (though even then, the band seems to be using chaos as a thing in itself, and not as a thing that can articulate, oh, cool songwriting ideas).  My beef is mostly with the songs that slow down and attempt something "arty."  They just don't work.  The guitar playing is not interesting enough, the singer is not dynamic enough, the rhythm section is mired in punk rock cliches.  At some points, the band even sounds TIRED, which is NEVER good for a hardcore-ish album.

But it's not an awful album, no.  I'll take a hundred copies of this record over whatever New Order ripoff shit money-grubbing useless tool band is playing on your local indie rock station.  Still, one wishes the album had more songs like its pretty amazing title track, which grabs hold of your attention and throttles it, with somehow increasing fury, for two minutes.  "YOU'RE NUUTTTTTHINGGGG"... That's a tremendous hook.  That's some Ian MacKaye shit.  That's what ICEAGE needs to do more.