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Aerosmith: Rocks

Posted in Essays, Music with tags , , , , , , , , , on July 29, 2010 by jnagle4

“My favorite band is Aerosmith.”

When I hear this sentence, I cringe.  Not because I dislike Aerosmith, but because I can recite the coming exchange word for word.

“Cool.  What’s your favorite album?” I ask, knowing the answer.

“Pump.”

We have another one.  I plaster a smile on my face and then respond.

“That’s cool.  I’m partial to Rocks.”

The young Aerosmith fan gets a quizzical look on his face and asks, “What’s Rocks?”

What is Rocks?

In my younger and more vulnerable years, I lashed out at that question.  How can someone be an Aerosmith fan and not know what Rocks is?  Aerosmith’s entire reputation is based upon this record. Toys in the Attic has “Walk This Way” and “Sweet Emotion,” but Rocks is the pinnacle of the classic Aerosmith sound.  Joe Perry and Steven Tyler are at each other’s throat, but they don’t let it get in the way of the product.  They are snorting half of Peru, but the cocaine is a muse rather than a burden.  It’s the moment before the wing completely fell off the plane.

In the mid-70s, Aerosmith was reviled by the rock press for ripping off The Rolling Stones.  While The Stones’ influence is obvious, Aerosmith had two things that The Stones didn’t: Volume and Steven Tyler.  Rocks is Steven Tyler’s coronation as one of the definitive frontmen of the 1970s.  He showed charisma on the early Aerosmith records, but when he hits the first note of “Back in the Saddle,” he sheds his skin as a Jagger clone.  Robert Plant could scream, but his screams were more sensual.    He would have sex with random groupies sure, but he would treat them like ladies.  Tyler has no time for such pleasantries.  He needs to evacuate some liquid kids, and he needs to do it right now. He could seduce, but the result is always the same.

While Tyler howls, Joe Perry provides the sweet talk.  His guitar slithers and slides, drawing the listener in with every hot lick.  Many guitar heroes were able to do this, but the volume and the assistance of Brad Whitford gave Aerosmith their metallic edge.

Aerosmith’s sound is the key to their success, but the lyrics keep Rocks grounded in reality.. A year had passed since Toys in the Attic and Aerosmith was now one of the biggest bands in the world.   Their music was blasting from every Trans-Am in America.  It should have been an album of supreme triumph, but it isn’t.  Tyler sums it up in one of the most overlooked lyrics in the history of rock n’ roll:

“Walkin’ on Gucci wearing Yves St. Laurent/They barely stay on ‘cause I’m so goddamn gaunt.”

Tyler delivers the lyric with just the right amount of exhaustion.  Many bands who tried to copy the formula forgot that Aerosmith doesn’t glorify the lifestyle.  For every “Last Child,” there is “Sick as a Dog,” in which the Toxic Twins completely withdrawal.  Rocks depicts the rock n’ roll lifestyle, warts and all.

Aerosmith would self-destruct after 1978’s Draw the Line.  Joe Perry and Brad Whitford left the band, while Tyler kept Aerosmith going.  When the original lineup reformed in the mid-80s, the raunch was still there, but the consequences weren’t.  Harrowing tales of the road were replaced by living it up while going down.  Rocks is not that record.  If you are hearing it for the first time, you will need to take a shower afterwards.  Trust me.

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Budokan!

Posted in Essays, Music with tags , , , , , , , on July 15, 2010 by jnagle4

Cheap Trick’s At Budokan has one of the greatest album covers in the history of rock n’ roll.  Lead singer Robin Zander and bassist Tom Peterson are standing next to each other, grinning from ear to ear.  They are smiling the type of smiles that only come once or twice in a lifetime.   They aren’t smiling out of cockiness or arrogance, but because they can’t believe their luck.   If At Budokan was just a picture on a piece of cardboard, it would still be one of the greatest albums ever made.

At Budokan was released during the golden age of the live record.  Kiss and Peter Frampton had strong followings before they released Alive and Frampton Comes Alive, but the success of those two records made them stadium rock demi-gods.  Cheap Trick was in the same situation that Kiss and Frampton were in two years earlier, except they were full blown teen idols in Japan.  To capitalize on their success in the Far East, Epic Records recorded their sold out gig at the legendary Budokan sumo arena and released it for the Japanese market.

The album was released in Japan in October of 1978.  The raw sound created a buzz in the United States, and At Budokan became a strong seller on the import market.  Epic noticed this and released it stateside in 1979.  After years of critical acclaim but little commercial success, Cheap Trick became the rock stars they deserved to be.

At Budokan stands in sharp contrast to the bloated live albums of the late ‘70s, which were bogged down by endless drum solos, rambling banter and “extended” versions.  At Budokan contains only ten tracks.  With such an abbreviated setlist, Cheap Trick had no time for frivolity or error.  They come crashing out the gate with “Hello There” and rarely give the listener a chance to breathe.

The dynamic between hard and soft is the basis of Cheap Trick’s sound.  Guitarist Rick Nielsen goes for the jugular, banging out power-chords at a dizzying pace.  He embellishes the garage rock simplicity with bombastic bursts of soloing. The solos only last for a few bars, hinting at the virtuosity spewing beneath his trademark baseball cap.  Bassist Tom Peterson and Bun E. Carlos work behind Neilson, creating a steady rhythm section.  Carlos’ drumming is directly influenced by The British Invasion, simple but swinging.  Peterson’s bass is the melodic texture, melding with Neilson’s guitar to create a richer sound.

While Nielsen, Petersen and Carlos provide the power and the rhythm, Robin Zander adds the melody.  Although Zander is from Illinois, his voice is straight out of the British Invasion.  Zander has the ability to make every chorus sound huge.  He never screams or embellishes, but he has an innate sense of pitch.  He never gets out of breath or misses a note.  He makes being a frontman look like the easiest job on earth.

The setlist is all killer, no filler.  It’s exhilarating to hear “Come On, Come On” followed by “Lookout” followed by “Big Eyes.”

The atmosphere drives the album over the top.   The moment the album begins, the listener is greeted with the orgasmic screams of several thousand Japanese schoolgirls, who react to every single thing the band does.  Robin Zander sounds like a kindergarten teacher as he slowly introduces the band’s latest single, a little ditty called “Surrender.”

My favorite part of At Budokan is towards the end.  The band is tearing through “Clock Strikes Ten,” and Bun E. Carlos starts playing a brief solo.  After he pounds out a few beats, Zander introduces him, “ON THE DRUMS! MR. BUN E. CARLOS!”  Carlos follows the intro with a spectacular drum roll while the girls scream with glee.  I never get tired of hearing it.  There is such joy in those screams.

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The Gaslight Anthem: American Slang

Posted in Music, Reviews with tags , , , , , , , , , , on July 7, 2010 by jnagle4

“We were always waiting for something to happen.”
-The Gaslight Anthem, “Great Expectations”

Something has happened.  The Gaslight Anthem has gone from a promising young rock band to the Next Big Thing.  They have gone from playing small clubs in their native New Jersey to playing “The ’59 Sound” with Bruce Springsteen in England.  The greatest of expectations have been heaped upon American Slang, and it largely lives up to the hype.

It’s hard to listen to American Slang without thinking of Bruce Springsteen’s breakthrough, Born to Run.  Both records are about leaving your comfort zone and moving to bigger and better things.  But while Born to Run is about leaving to escape the small town, American Slang is more optimistic.  The Gaslight Anthem have left New Jersey not because of extenuating circumstances, but because they want to see what is beyond their world.

The title track will draw some comparisons to “Great Expectations,” but there are several key differences.  In “Great Expectations,” Fallon was restless because he didn’t know how to get out of his situation.  He’s restless in “American Slang,” because he’s getting ready to move on.  He lays it on the all on the line in the first couple verses, “I seem to be coming out of my skin/Look what you’ve forgotten here/the bandages won’t keep me in.”  Instead of sounding urgent, the guitars ring out.  He spent the first two records preparing for this moment and now he’s finally ready.

Now that the band is moving away from their Jersey roots, the punk influence of the first two records is slightly toned down.  Alex Rosamilia’s guitar playing is still driving, but it jangles rather than crackles.  Instead of bashing the drums, Ben Horowitz playing is more reserved and tasteful.   The streamlined sound puts more of an emphasis on the choruses, which are even bigger than The ’59 Sound.  “The Boxer” begins with the chorus chanted over sparse drum beats, anticipating audience participation

The band was listening to a lot of vintage soul while making this album and it shows.  Fallon’s singing is smoother, with a hint of gospel.  On “The Queen of Lower Chelsea,” the music is mixed in the back, with the emphasis on the vocals.  The lyrics are hopeful, but there is a hint of sadness when he sings, “nothing is free/not even me.”

But maybe it isn’t sadness, but wistfulness.  The Gaslight Anthem is in a precarious position.  Two years ago they were still four kids from Jersey, psyched to get a cover story on AP.  Now they are regularly featured in Rolling Stone.  Some fans may balk at the sound of the new record, complaining that it’s no longer punk rock.  The guitars don’t buzz like they did on Sink or Swim, but the heart of this band is still a mile wide.  The sound is bigger and more polished, but The Gaslight Anthem hasn’t forgotten who brought them to the dance.

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Sleigh Bells 7/1/2010

Posted in Music, Reviews with tags , , , , , , , , , on July 6, 2010 by jnagle4

I wasn’t surprised when Sleigh Bells sold out The Ottobar.  The Ottobar is the hippest rock club in Baltimore, and Sleigh Bells is generating a ton of critical buzz.  In this case, the critical buzz is warranted because they made a great record.  However, when a band generates such attention, you get a lot of people that go so they can say “I saw Sleigh Bells at a tiny club in Baltimore.  They were rough around the edges, but you knew they were going to be something special.”  Music geeks are suckers for such anecdotes, present company included.

I went to the show with pre-conceived notions of what it would be, and Sleigh Bells exceeded my expectations in every possible way.

Sleigh Bells’ show had something that is absent in 99 percent of the shows I see: mystique.  All the critical praise in the world cannot give you that.  They were able to grab the audience from the first note of the intro.  The intro has become a lost art.  Some people write them off as pretentious and unnecessary, but I think it’s the opposite.  When an intro is done correctly, it builds the tension to a fever pitch.  The crowd holds its breath because they are waiting to see the object of their desire.  When the artist finally appears, there is an audible release.

Sleigh Bells’ intro was perfectly executed.  The lights went down and there was a roar.  A monologue played over the PA as the roar got louder.  When the monologue ended, guitarist Derek Miller appeared onstage, playing several riffs.  The crowd got louder, but the release wasn’t quite there.  He continued playing the riff, with the volume increasing each time.   Then the riff broke, and the unmistakable machine gun beat of “Tell ‘Em” came through.  Here was the release.  The crowd went nuts as Alexis Krauss ran onstage.

Since Alexis Krauss is the frontwoman, conventional wisdom says that she would have a spotlight.  She’s a pretty girl, after all.   Wrong. The stage was bathed in red, purple or strobe light.  You never saw Krauss’ or Miller’s face.  If her face ever came close to being exposed, she tossed her hair or turned her back to the audience.  You saw an outline of a girl running across the stage.  You saw two outlines meeting each other and then backing away.  You saw an outline climb a stack of amps.

Based on that description, you would think that Krauss and Miller are detached from their audience. On the contrary, there was little physical division between the band and the audience.  Krauss jumped offstage and sang in the middle of the pit and interacted with fans in the front row.  However, when she sensed she was giving too much away, she took a step back.   She successfully walked the line between total accessibility and mysterious restraint.

Derek Miller is the opposite of Alexis Krauss.  While she got the crowd riled up, Miller hung in the shadows, hitting his Gibson SG with precise bursts.  He stretched out every note, letting them linger as long as possible before banging it again.  The interplay between Krauss and Miller was fascinating to watch.   It reminded me of the onstage relationship of Kurt Cobain and Krist Novoselic.  One was insular and focused, while the other played the part of the rock hero.  However, the thing that really struck me was how often Krauss approached Miller; as if she was drawing power from his guitar, and she was the physical extension of what he was playing.

Sleigh Bells were onstage for only 45 minutes and they made every second count.  Instead of beating the crowd into the ground, they left them wanting more.   When they left the stage, I asked myself what I just saw.  That is always a good sign.

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Insubordination Fest: Day 2

Posted in Essays, Music, Reviews with tags , , , , , , , , on June 30, 2010 by jnagle4

When I woke up on Saturday morning, it took me a while to process the day ahead.  Eleven hours at Sonar.  I took a deep breath, rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and rolled out of bed.  I was drained from the night before, and I’d only gotten my feet wet.   I arrived at Sonar a little after 1:00.  I ran into a couple I met during the Flamingo Nosebleeds’ set.  They were eating pizza and drinking Slurpees with the same glazed look I had.  The girl had only gotten three hours of sleep and blisters on her feet.  She took one last slurp and then went inside.

The setup remained the same as the night before, except the hamburger stand moved into the alley.  The only way to get to the alley was through the back of the lounge, which was up three steps.  A security guard had to get my food.  This was a minor hiccup, but it was slightly annoying.  They should have had one stand inside and one in the alley.  The burger was decent; hot and fresh with melty cheese.

Before we get to the music, I have a confession to make.  After the Beatnik Termites’ set, I went to the lounge to see Deep Sleep.  I went to a vacant corner of the bar, where I promptly fell asleep.  I woke up to a middle-aged woman offering me a brownie.   It was delicious…I think. Thank you.

I moved around more on the second day trying to see as many bands as I could.  Here are the ones that made the biggest impression.

  • The Beatnik Termites: The Beatnik Termites are technically a punk band, but not really.  Electric doo-wop would be a much better term.  Simple songs about the joys and fears of teenage romance played at maximum decibels.  Their set was a ton of fun.
  • Zapoteks: These guys weren’t on my radar until I met the drummer backstage.   We had a conversation about cricket.  I still have no idea how to play it.  It’s interesting to note that most bands on the bill had a distinctly American sound and sensibility.  The Zapoteks were British, and they sounded like it.  The riffs weren’t slow, but they weren’t delivered in a rapid fire pace either.  The singer had a Cockney affectation, and they whooped like a pack of soccer hooligans.  It was a nice change of pace.
  • Blacklist Royals: Fast tempo + big choruses + ‘50s retro vibes = Awesome band.
  • Teenage Bottlerocket: The first headlining band of the evening.  Teenage Bottlerocket were four superballs let loose.  They jumped, ran and hit their guitars with a childlike zeal.  The crowd responded by slam dancing and stage diving..  Kids ran up onstage and dove into a pulsing sea of humanity.  It got dicey a few times, but nobody got hurt. When the band and crowd are feeding off each other, it always creates magic.
  • The Smoking Popes: The crowd was drained after Teenage Bottlerocket, so it took a little while for them to warm up to the Popes, but the more relaxed atmosphere suited the band.  One of the things that I admired about their set was how unpretentious it was.  They got onstage and they played their songs.  Again, there was no disconnect between the band and their audience.
  • Less Than Jake: The headliners.  Less Than Jake are really good at what they do.  They have fun songs and tons of energy.  However, my tolerance for ska is limited, especially when I am exhausted.  I stayed for half their set and decided to beat the crowd.  They brought it though, and they are worth seeing live.  I would have enjoyed it more if it wasn’t 1:00 in the morning.

Overall Thoughts: The main thing I took away from Insubordination Fest was the feeling of community.  Everyone was there to have good time and support each other, which is the complete opposite of the average corporate rock fest.  If you are a fan of punk rock and have never experienced it, grab a couple friends and be prepared to mosh.

Author’s note: I would like to personally thank Chris Thacker of Insubordination Records for hooking me up with VIP passes.

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