Archive for September, 2009

Paramore: Brand New Eyes

Posted in Music, Reviews with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 30, 2009 by jnagle4

brand new eyes

Paramore is in a precarious position.  When they released Riot! in 2007, they were just another darling of Alternative Press. Riot! was a major breakthrough, and like My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy, Paramore has crossed the threshold into major rock stardom.   Now they face the difficult task of maintaining their integrity in the face of their sudden fame. It is a story as old as the rock business itself.

Brand New Eyes is a direct reference to Paramore’s new position.  The album could have gone two different ways.  The first would be a straight sequel to Riot! A sequel would bring big dividends but wouldn’t accomplish anything artistically.  The second would be an ambitious, mature album that would be artistically satisfying, but might not sound like Paramore.  Brand New Eyes is a mixture of the two approaches, and the results are generally satisfying.

Everything that made Paramore a breakout band is here, but the difference is in tone.  Riot! was exuberant, joyous, and grateful.  Brand New Eyes is darker, paranoid, and defensive.  Hayley Williams’ lyrics are less sassy and more forceful.  On the first single, “Ignorance,” she defiantly challenges her critics to judge her, and flatly stating that she doesn’t care.  She repeats “We’re not the same/we’re not the same” several times.  It was written as a kiss-off, but it sounds as if she is trying to convince herself.  The confidence of the early singles is shaken.

This record is all about change, and it’s not just about going from clubs to arenas.  When you are in your late teens/early 20s, two years is a long time.   One of the most interesting tracks on the album is the autobiographical “Brick by Boring Brick.”  The narrator talks about living in a fairy tale that “is too far for us to find.”   She worries about losing touch with the simple things in her life, and mentions that she has to “keep her feet on the ground/while my head’s in the clouds.” These are all clichés, but when you put them in perspective, they are quite powerful.  Hayley Williams has gone from an average teenager to a role model.  It’s traumatizing to think that things will never be the same again.

“Brick by Boring Brick” would have been a good song if it stayed in that direction, but midway through, they pour on another layer.  At the end of the second verse, she sings, “We’ll be sure to build your house brick by boring brick/or the wolf is going to blow it down.”  Hayley laments the loss of her simple kind of life, but at the same time she doesn’t want to lose it.  She might never be able to go to the movies with complete anonymity again, but her world has gotten bigger.

Unfortunately, Brand New Eyes does not have a jaw-dropping pop single like “That’s What You Get.”  There are moments where the band attempts to replicate the joy of Riot! (“Coming Up”), but they come off as flat and forced.  Paramore has grown up, and the infectious “Hey kids! Let’s put on a show” mentality of Riot! is gone.  That’s what you get when you let the fame win.

Coming Attractions

Posted in Uncategorized on September 29, 2009 by jnagle4

Mariah Carey: Memoirs of an Imperfect Angel

Posted in Music, Reviews with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 28, 2009 by jnagle4

memoirs of an imperfect angel

It’s not easy being Mariah Carey.  From the outside her life looks like roses and elderberries; a much younger husband, a closet the size of a small African nation, and an entire fleet of random people hired to laugh at every joke she makes.  It’s the perfect life, The American Dream that we common folk fantasize about.  But alas, life isn’t all country Manhattan kitchens and Manolo Blahnik heels for Ms. Carey.  She may seem like an angel sent from above to grace us with her soprano, but she’s not perfect.  She’s just like the rest of us damn it.  These are her memoirs, the Memoirs of an Imperfect Angel.

It’s easy to dismiss an album with such a ridiculous title, but pretentious album titles seem to be Mariah’s stock in trade these days.  Memoirs of an Imperfect Angel is Carey’s thirteenth studio album, and demonstrates why she has been the best selling female recording artist for two decades.  Her voice is otherworldly yes, but she is also one of the shrewdest pop stars of all time.  Like Diana Ross before her, she has her pulse on the market.  She hires cutting edge producers and the best songwriters in the business to create impeccably crafted pop records.

For Memoirs, Carey recruited The-Dream, the undisputed heavyweight champion of over the top pop opulence.  It’s as much of a Dream record as a Mariah record.  His fingerprints are all over it.  The drum machines are blunt and heavy, similar to Rick Rubin’s raw production values on the first LL Cool J album.  Dream tempers the drums with syrupy sweet keyboards and piano.  It’s a mixture of street toughness and grandeur, supplemented with Dream’s oddly chirpy background vocals.

The production is excellent, the beats strong.  The problem is Mariah herself.  She has a five octave vocal range.  If you have the ability to break glass with your voice, you have an incredible gift.  Unfortunately, I don’t think she’s ever learned how to use it.  Despite what MTV and American Idol have shoved down our throats for the past fifteen years, singing is not about vocal pyrotechnics.  Singing is about interpretation and emotion.  Mariah has no idea what the word “interpretation” means.  She uses the exact same inflection and cadence for every song, regardless of tempo.  Towards the end, she dutifully trots out the notes that she has built her career on.  The fifth octave should be used sparingly, so when you bring it out, it means something.  To Mariah’s credit, she uses more restraint here than she has in the past; she actually sings the choruses instead of just randomly scatting over them, but her music would be so much more resonant if she didn’t trot out those high notes on every single track.

Memoirs of an Imperfect Angel is not a bad record.  Mariah sings well and her charisma is undeniable.  However, this was the first time I listened to a Mariah Carey record and was able to pick out the producer without even reading the credits.  The-Dream’s production is totally unique, but we’ve heard Mariah thirteen times before.

Great Moments in Hair Metal History

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on September 26, 2009 by jnagle4

Pearl Jam: Backspacer

Posted in Music, Reviews with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 25, 2009 by jnagle4

backspacer

Pearl Jam’s late-period renaissance rolls on with Backspacer.  Their last album, 2006’s Pearl Jam, was a blast of righteous indignation in the waning days of the Bush administration.  The songs were angry, confused and frustrated.  Eddie Vedder kept asking “why?” as his band rocked behind him.  It was a rabblerousing return to form.  Backspacer continues in this direction, but there is something in this record that has never been heard on a Pearl Jam record to date.

Pearl Jam has always been about Big Important Statements.  Youth suicide! Taking on huge corporations!  Writing “pro-choice” on your arm with a magic marker whilst putting a theoretical gun against your head!  Backspacer is not an album of Important Statements; it’s a no-frills rock n’ roll record.

Pearl Jam sounds different.  They sound the same on the surface; lots of big guitars, Matt Cameron’s complicated drumming and Vedder’s unmistakable warble.  However, the anger is gone.  Instead of focusing on the world at large, the band turns its focus inward.  The songs are about relationships, bluesmen, and *gasp* the state of rock n’ roll itself.  The band sounds like they are having fun on this album.

The effervescent tone of the songs is reflected in the production.  Producer Brendan O’Brien takes a step back, letting the band play.  Backspacer sounds like it was recorded live in the studio.  The guitars buzz and crackle from the amps, and each instrument pops out of the speaker.  It’s not perfect, which is exactly how rock n’ roll should sound.  It sounds like it was made during a live performance, not in a septic hospital hallway.

Guitarists Stone Gossard and Mike McCready keep things as simple as possible.  The first single, “ The Fixer,” is just a collection of power chords, played with thunderous efficiency.  Matt Cameron bashes the kit in perfect syncopation.  The band hasn’t been this catchy since Ten.

Eddie Vedder’s trademark warble is still Pearl Jam’s centerpiece.  Since his singing style has been bastardized and watered down by every mainstream modern rock singer of the past decade, it’s easy to forget how good it is.  The howl is alive and well, but Vedder is capable of a lot more.  On “Just Breathe,” an acoustic ballad, his voice is almost unrecognizable.  His tone is quiet and relaxed, stretching out the notes at the end of every stanza.  On the chorus, he goes into the howl for a brief moment, before switching to the original cadence.

Pearl Jam has always cited The Who as a primary influence, and Backspacer has similar structure to a post-Tommy Who record.  A storming rocker like “Supersonic” is followed by “Speed of Sound,” an ornate and grandiose ballad.  Everything fits together perfectly.  The rock songs don’t overshadow the ballads, and the ballads aren’t the total focus of the album. The album is bookended beautifully.  The opening track, “Gonna See My Friend,” is loud and bombastic, and the appropriately titled “The End,” is quiet and gentle.  You get a complete portrait of the band, rather than a few pieces.