According to thoroughly pissed off cool guy Joe Perry, Steven Tyler and his menagerie of tired double entendres has left Aerosmith. It’s a Christmas miracle! Now if only he could time travel back to 1979 and overdose on cocaine like he was supposed to. The world would have never been exposed to dross like this:
or this:
or this:
“But John,” you say. “Drug abuse destroys families.”
Yes it does, but it also made Aerosmith really cool. Listen to Rocks.
Thanks to the AV Club for breaking this wonderful news!
Besides my in-depth music reporting on Rant n’ Rave With John, you can also check me out on Examiner.com. I am the new Pro Wrestling Examiner for Examiner.com
Rivers Cuomo is still hurt by the failure of Pinkerton. Weezer’s second record was a raw, emotional affair that put all of his insecurities on display. Although the album has become a beloved classic, its initial lukewarm reception caused Cuomo to retreat from the public eye for several years. When he emerged in 2001 with The Green Album, Weezer had returned to the geek rock that made them stars in the first place. They became one of the biggest bands in the world, and as a result, Cuomo was much less adventurous. He was still capable of writing a great song (“Dope Nose,” “Perfect Situation”), but the albums were increasingly uneven, culminating in last year’s half cooked Red Album.
Raditude isn’t as disappointing as Red, but it’s their most mainstream record to date. Weezer has always had pop sensibility, but Raditude is their first fully fledged pop album. “(If You’re Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To” is a cumbersome title, but it follows a conventional arena rock structure; a friendly acoustic verse followed by a bombastic chorus. There is even a “GIRL!” at the end of the verse so the audience knows when to put their fists in the air.
Cuomo is in full rock star mode. He hits on hot chicks, he does shots of Patron with Lil Wayne and has an affinity for the sitar. It feels like he’s writing from a character’s point of view rather than a personal one. When you write from another point of view, you have to inhabit that person. When Cuomo sings that he needs the Patron in “Can’t Stop Partying”, his awkwardness slips through the mask of overconfidence. This gives the lyric a thick coat of irony. Irony is on every Weezer album, but it was used to offset the pain of Cuomo’s anxiety. The delicate balance between gentle wink and a cynical front isn’t there. Cuomo sounds fake.
“I Can’t Stop Partying” is getting a lot of attention because of the Lil Wayne cameo. The cameo is one of the most telling moments of the record. Cuomo comes in and out with his tales of lurid nights on the town, and then Wayne comes in. He only raps for a few bars, but his laid back flow is a welcome reprieve from Cuomo’s posing. Plus, he manages to pair “Weezy” with Weezer. Lil Wayne is awesome.
Cuomo drops his guard on “Put Me Back Together,” and it’s the only time he sounds like himself. He sings about his insecurity and being uncool. He sounds sincere, which is the reason Weezer connected so many people. Rivers Cuomo was relatable and honest. When he acts like a rock god, he sounds even more insecure than he does when singing about his sweater.
When Creed announced that they were getting back together for a tour and an album this year, a cold shudder went through the rock critic community. “With Arms Wide Open” would reverberate from arena walls once more. We could not take this injustice lying down, so we put on our cardigan sweaters and horn rimmed glasses and hit our laptops with a vengeance. It was time to rip Full Circle to shreds and send Scott Stapp back to Florida.
As the release date approached, I had a change of heart. I realized that Creed was nothing but a Big Dumb Rock Band. I had always been a champion of Big Dumb Rock Bands, to many of my friends’ chagrin. I decided to approach Full Circle with a set of fresh ears. He who listens to Pretty Boy Floyd should not throw stones.
Full Circle kicks off with a wall of bombastic guitars and drums. The riff is frozen in 2001, but there’s nothing too offensive. Guitarist Mark Tremonti pulls off some entertaining solos, hits the whammy bar a few times, and makes good use of the distortion pedal. Drummer Scott Phillips and bassist Brian Marshall create a solid foundation. If Creed consisted of these three people, they would be a competent hard rock band…like Alter Bridge.
Alas, there is one more member of Creed. When “With Arms Wide Open” was plastered across every modern rock playlist in the country, Scott Stapp was an easy target. He was so self-important that Fred Durst seemed like a wise old sage when he proclaimed Stapp to be an “ego-maniac” onstage at the K-ROQ Weenie Roast. A decade removed from the hoopla, Stapp can finally be judged on his musical merit.
The frontman is the cornerstone of arena rock. It’s a difficult position because you not only have to sing, you have to be the center of the storm. A good frontman takes the audience out of their reality and brings then into their world. To his credit, Stapp is able to do this, but who would want to visit his world
Stapp is still on a spiritual and emotional quest. He’s still persecuted, he’s still angry and he still has an unhealthy college boy fixation with Jim Morrison. Stapp is so earnest that he makes Aaron Lewis look like David Lee Roth. If “Bread of Shame” contained a hint of irony, it would be the greatest parody of post-Nirvana hard rock ever written. The track kicks off with Brian Marshall’s rumbling bass over some pounding drums, and then Tremonti comes in with some drop-d chords. Stapp opens his mouth and sings: “Guess there is nobody to blame/when you are living on this bread of shame.” Stapp delivers this line with a tone that most people reserve for family emergencies. Every lyric that comes from his mouth bursts with heavy handed pathos. My personal favorite: “I stand surrounded by the walls that once defined me/knowing I will be underneath them when they crumble, when they fall,” from “A Thousand Faces.” Stapp is obviously being sincere, but he is always the victim. Always sacrificing, or challenging, or eating baked goods made of shame.
The problem with Creed is not that they are a Big Dumb Rock Band. The problem is that they are a Big Dumb Rock Band masquerading as a Deep Rock Band. Alter Bridge is not my cup of tea, but at least they aren’t pretentious. Stapp honestly believes that he is writing in the grand rock n’ roll tradition, but no matter how you slice it, it’s still arena rock. If Creed had released an unpretentious slab of hard rock, it would be just fine. Unfortunately, Scott Stapp is 30-something and still locked in his own prison. Cheer up buckaroo.
