Archive for June, 2009

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Street Sweeper Social Club: s/t

Posted in Music, Reviews with tags , , , , , , , , , , on June 23, 2009 by jnagle4

street sweeper

On paper, Street Sweeper Social Club is one of the greatest supergroups of all time.  The passionate rage of Boots Riley and the crushing guitar work of Tom Morello seem like an easy fit.  Not many modern rock bands can touch them on the live stage.  Their show is a mix of guitar riffs, extreme left politics and matching military dress coats.  The music is the perfect forum for their message.

Unfortunately, the band’s live power doesn’t quite translate to the record.  All the elements are there, but Riley and Morello are oddly subdued.  They haven’t figured out how to capture all the rabblerousing energy of their live show on an album.  If they had, Street Sweeper Social Club’s debut album would be one of the best hard rock releases of the year.

The album kicks off with “Fight! Smash! Win!,” which leveled the live crowd.  On the album, the song is hindered by the spotless production.  Morello and drummer Shannon Moore sound stiff, afraid to leave the confines of the three and a half minute format.  The guitars and drums are mixed too low, so you really have to listen for the riff.  It’s disappointing, because Morello’s riffs haven’t been this sharp in years.  He’s moved away from the jock rock of Audioslave and started writing simple, confrontational riff.  The simple riffing provides a counterpoint to Riley’s verbose flow.  Morello also combines traditional guitar soloing with his more avant-garde techniques, striking a balance between both.

Riley tackles his usual subjects: The corrupt rich, the oppressed poor and the government.  Riley’s tongue is very sharp, especially on “100 Little Curses.”  The song is exactly what the title implies, though some curses are bigger than others.  Flat champagne and getting into a serious car crash are not on the same level.  The album’s shining moment is “Clap for the Killers,” in which Riley calls the nation to task for glorifying killers and criminals.  A killer is still a killer, no matter how cool his threads are.

The songs are great, the musicianship is great.  The problem is that Riley and Morello don’t really mesh.  One look at the lyric sheet tells you how angry Boots Riley is.  However, his rapping is so laid back and laconic that he gets swallowed up by the intensity of Morello’s playing.  Morello’s guitar is mixed too low, but Riley is mixed even lower.  You need to be an attentive listener to hear the message.

Street Sweeper Social Club is a band with unlimited potential.  Everything is in place.  The songs, the image and the live show all work.  They just need to figure out how to transfer the raw elements of their sound to an album.  Perhaps they should take a page from the MC5’s playbook and release their next album live, because their militant energy cannot be contained in studio walls.

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The Waiting is the Hardest Part….

Posted in Updates with tags , , on June 22, 2009 by jnagle4

Huge week this week kids.  Still waiting for that damn Street Sweeper record.

In the meantime…..

Gob certainly likes his suits

COME ON!

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The Jonas Brothers: Lines, Vines and Trying Times

Posted in Music, Reviews with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 20, 2009 by jnagle4

jonas brothers

Inside every teen sensation, there is a legitimate artist waiting to break free.  They start out playing simple three minute pop tunes for armies of teenage girls.  They sell millions of records, but never receive any kind of critical acclaim.  To win that respect, they make an overly ambitious album to prove that there is substance behind the hype.  It’s a cycle that has been repeating itself since the dawn of modern pop music.  Lines, Vines and Trying Times is The Jonas Brothers’ bid for artistic integrity.

Lines, Vines and Trying Times is a very earnest record.  It is not the forced maturity of No More Games-era New Kids on the Block, but three guys discovering new influences and jumping in with zeal.  Their intentions are admirable, but like so many other “mature” teen pop albums, the reach exceeds the grasp.  The album is rooted in the fizzy power pop of their last two albums, but introduces lush orchestral arrangements, horns and Hammond organs.  For a bubblegum band like The Jonas Brothers, new sounds and elaborate arrangements seem like a step in the right direction.  Unfortunately, they get in the way of the hook, which is the prime commodity that the Jonas Brothers sell.

The opening track, “World War III,” is the perfect example.  Within 30 seconds, you are bombarded by a brass section.  You can’t hear the chorus because the brass is mixed so high.  This is an almost fatal flaw, because the Jonas Brothers’ primary audience doesn’t care about musical sophistication.  They want simple melodies that they can easily sing along to while gazing upon their Nick Jonas poster.  The huge arrangements are distracting.  They are rooted in blue-eyed soul, but the squeaky clean production sucks the soul out.

The Jonas Brothers are decent when they keep it simple.  “Hey Baby” is a catchy number based on Stevie Wonder’s “Superstition.”  It’s just guitar, organ, bass, and drums.  There is nothing extraneous or indulgent, so you can actually hear the melody.  “Poison Ivy” is another catchy pop song, but suffers from a myriad of clichéd metaphors.  The clichés are accentuated by Nick Jonas, who hasn’t quite figured out how to vary his delivery.  His voice was exaggerated on South Park, but his mannerisms aren’t too far off.  He tries to sound passionate, but he sounds contrived most of the time.

The highlight for most fans will be his duet with Miley Cyrus on “Before the Storm.”  For everyone else, it’s the album’s lowpoint.  Cyrus can’t sing.  Her voice is flat and she doesn’t know how to compliment her duet partner.  It’s not really a song, but a way to exploit the vulnerable Hannah Montana/Jonas Brothers fanbase.

Perhaps I’m being too hard on the JoBros.  This record wasn’t made for me, and if I were a fourteen year old girl, I’d probably love it.  Lines, Vines and Trying Times isn’t particularly bad, just really flawed.  The Jonas Brothers made a valiant attempt at maturity, but forgot about the songs.  Teen idols take note: before you walk, you need to learn how to crawl.

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Thoughts and Meditations: Let it Be

Posted in Essays, Thoughts and Meditations with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 19, 2009 by jnagle4

let it be

Paul Westerberg and I became friends when I was 16.  I’d like to say we met in Reptilian Records or Record and Tape Traders, but we met in a Best Buy.  I found a copy of Let it Be haphazardly placed in the wrong section.  I’d never heard of The Replacements, but I was intrigued by the cover.  They were wearing plaid flannel and beat-up Converse, my uniform at the time.  The photo wasn’t contrived or airbrushed, just four guys hanging out on a roof.  I didn’t know anything about this band, but they used a Beatles title.  The Beatles were sacred cows in my home, in most homes.  This took balls.  I bought the record without reading a single word of critical praise, without a single, without a music video.  I’m proud of that.

When I pressed play, I saw myself.  Paul Westerberg was not a rock hero bragging about his conquests.  He was awkward, unsure, nervous, neurotic, pained, exhilarated, horny, thoughtful, alienated, introspective, romantic, self-absorbed, bored, passionate, and fucked up.  So was I.  So is every 16 year old boy.

I remember hearing “Unsatisfied” for the first time.  When the song faded out, I played it again.  I must have played it 50 times in a row.  My dad banged on the door and told me to play a different song.  I played “Unsatisfied” again.  It was the first time I listened to a song and said “This guy knows exactly how I feel.”

No other songwriter has captured adolescence as perfectly as Paul Westerberg did on Let it Be.  Most songwriters focus on the angst and alienation, forgetting about the other emotions.  Westerberg wrote about them all.  “Sixteen Blue,” “Unsatisfied,” and “Answering Machine” get the most attention, but what about the nervous optimism of “I Will Dare”, or the dumb bravado of “We’re Coming Out?”  If Let it Be was focused solely on the angst, it would be a Staind record.  Kids would eventually grow out of it.  Westerberg’s willingness to explore the sweet sides of teenage life gave Let it Be depth.  If “Favorite Thing” wasn’t there to balance “Unsatisfied,” it wouldn’t sound as authentic.

Critics of Let it Be claim that it is an uneven record.  They say that “Gary’s Got a Boner,” “Tommy Gets His Tonsils Out,” and the cover of KISS’ “Black Diamond” detract from the album’s power.  Let it Be is an uneven record, but adolescence is uneven too.  For every poignant moment, there are five stupid ones.

On the surface, Let it Be seems like relic from high school, the kind of record that you grow out of when you grow up.  On the contrary, it still feels fresh.  I think it’s because it’s a record without any pretension.  Westerberg has a lot to say, but he never set out to be the voice of a generation.  The Mats just went into the studio and happened to make an iconic record.  If they had planned to make a Big Artistic Statement, it could have been a disaster.  Instead, they just made a record and put it out.  They probably got drunk afterwards.

Let it Be is one of the best records of the 1980s, yet most people haven’t heard it.  Maybe people are turned off by the title, or maybe the Mats have completely fallen off the radar.

If you are a teenager, buy a copy of Let it Be.  Paul Westerberg is a great listener.

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The Black Eyed Peas: The E.N.D. (Energy Never Dies)

Posted in Music, Reviews with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 17, 2009 by jnagle4

the e.n.d.

Serious music fans often wonder what makes mainstream pop so appealing.  Bouncy beats and big choruses are a major part of it, but modern pop music is a cult of personality.  Justin Timberlake could take a mediocre song and take it to the top of the charts solely on the basis of his charisma. It doesn’t say much for the taste of the average record buyer.  In a genre where personality is everything, the success of The Black Eyed Peas is rather puzzling.  The hooks are there, but they are the most faceless band in modern pop music.  The E.N.D. is supposedly a sonic leap forward for the band, but it’s really the same album they’ve been peddling since 2005.

The album’s lead single and opening track, “Boom Boom Pow,” sets the tone for the entire album.  There are no live instruments, just drum machines, keyboards, synths and the ubiquitous vocoder.  Electro-pop is the big trend in hip-hop and R&B right now, so those clichés can be forgiven, but the vocoder is so overdone that it has lost all meaning.  One of the best parts of hip-hop is falling in love with the vocal style and cadence of an MC.  Biggie’s lyrics were incredible, but would he have broken through without his voice?  The vocoder makes everyone sound the same, so the voice becomes irrelevant.  will.i.am doesn’t have much to say, but the vocal effects sap what little personality he has.

The Black Eyed Peas are the modern equivalent of the C+C Music Factory.  will.i.am is the pedestrian pitchman.  He has been all over the news in the past year bragging about what a deep thinker he is.  He’s so politically switched on, so thoughtful, so awesome.  The way he talks, you’d think he is the second coming of Chuck D. For all of his political bluster, will.i.am doesn’t have much to say beyond party clichés, talking about having a good night, and chanting his band’s initials and proclaiming how he has so much love in this world.

Fergie is the pretty girl of questionable talent.  The energy that supposedly never dies does not apply to her.  She sleepwalks through the entire album, rapping a verse here and singing a chorus there.  She raps in a very grating, bratty tone.  Her singing voice is inoffensive as usual, she sounds like a million other female pop stars.  apl.de.ap and Taboo are just along for the ride.  ap raps a few verses, but this is clearly the will.i.am and Fergie show.

The Black Eyed Peas are the weakest link in their own album.  Some of the beats are really great, especially “Gotta Feeling,” which is just a catchy keyboard riff.  The E.N.D. also suffers from inept sampling.  Rob Base’s iconic “I wanna rock right now” from “It Takes Two” is used on “Rock That Body.”  It’s the seemingly perfect sample, but Rob Base has no place against icy keyboards and sound effects.  The sounds don’t mesh, so the chorus disrupts the entire flow of the track.

In many ways, The Black Eyed Peas are the definition of pop music.  Its music of the moment, meant to be consumed immediately and forgotten.  It’s cool to say that top 40 is the most forgettable genre of music, but memorable pop singles live forever.  “My Humps” is a terrible song, but it will have a spot on the inevitable “Greatest Hits of the 2000s” collection.  Nothing on The E.N.D. will experience that kind of immortality.  The album buzzes by without making an impression.  The moment the record is over, it’s forgotten.

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