Archive for April, 2008

The Foo Fighters: Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace (2007)-Davey Boy

Thursday, April 3rd, 2008

The Foo Fighters: Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace (2007)

By Davey Boy     
 
Thinking back upon The Foo Fighters career, I came upon a realization. When they (or their record company) finally release a Greatest Hits package, it is going to be one hell of a disc. The band has arguably been responsible for some of the greatest rock songs of the past decade. But when it comes to their individual albums, it is rare to see overly positive reviews. This is mainly due to a lack of depth on each release. Their second and third efforts (1997’s The Colour & The Shape and 1999’s There Is Nothing Left To Lose) probably come closest to the mark, but the weakness really hit home when One By One was released in 2002. I still am
astounded that album won a Grammy Award for Best Rock Album. It was really one big mess.
 
Sometimes you need a kick in the backside to rethink things though & this was obviously what The Foo Fighters did upon release of their fifth album In Your Honor. The band decided to extend the album into two discs and split the styles of music contained on those discs as far as they possibly could. On the first disc, they took their rock music to a more aggressive level, while the 2nd disc was all acoustic and even included a duet with Norah Jones. At worst, it was an album which provided excellent value, not to mention some very good songs. With their 6th album Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace, The Foo Fighters have understandably attempted to consolidate their two disc effort into one, hopefully resulting in a best of both worlds approach that included less filler. To a large extent, they have succeeded.
 
The meshing of song styles can practically be heard in the first thirty seconds of this album. Continuing a pet hate of mine of having an album’s best track and first single as the opener, “The Pretender” was quite simply my song of 2007. In a decade’s time, when someone asks what was rock music like back in 2007, look no further than this gem of a song. Cleverly beginning softly with lead singer Dave Grohl almost begging you to listen to him while a guitar is gently strummed in the background, the track doesn’t take long for an intense rapid-fire drumbeat to show you where it is heading. The remainder of the song is near perfect. From the music to the vocals, the verses to the sing-along chorus, it’s difficult to imagine any improvements.
 
As with practically every other release by the band, they have no issue filling in the first four tracks with quality. “Let It Die” complements the opener very well as it takes the slow/fast structure further and is all the better for it. But it doesn’t just rely on that (for want of a better word) gimmick as it has enough substance behind it to make it work any which way. “Erase/Replace” is a sufficiently solid rocker with enough intensity to get it by, while second single “Long Road To Ruin” is another of the band’s long line of melodic radio-rock tracks in the same vein as “Learn To Fly” & “Times Like These” from their back catalogue.
 
The remaining eight tracks are what this album will ultimately be judged by. It’s a mixed bag, but there are thankfully more hits than misses. If anything, the underlying feeling that there is a certain formula that the band is working to is a concern. But there is sufficient variation included and the tracks are placed well for the most part. Misses include the overlong and anti-climactic “Come Alive”, the instrumental interlude “Ballad of the Beaconsfield Miners”, the closing slow motion piano-driven “Home”, and the dated “Statues” (although the latter’s melody may win some over).
 
If listeners are willing to be patient though, there are some winners amongst the lot. “Stranger Things Have Happened” is an acoustic driven song that may not win you over upon first listen, but has the ability to get caught in your head uncharacteristically for such a slower-paced track. “Cheer Up Boys (Your Make-Up is Running)” is another sufficient rocker even if it could have been a potential highlight with a little more refinement. Penultimate track ‘But Honestly’ is another successful slow/fast structured song that is a little more difficult to read than usual & pleasantly uses backing vocals well. Finally, we have track eight “Summers End” which may well be the song that helps define the album and ultimately is its barometer. Part rock ballad, it includes a folksy southern Americana feel to it that accentuates its melodic nature to the utmost. It’s sweet. It’s nice. It’s difficult not seeing this being a future single, but I can understand why it may not be everyone’s cup of tea.
 
Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace is unlikely to be anyone’s album of the year (except maybe the Grammy Awards). Overall though, it is the successful next step in redefining The Foo Fighters current & future sound. That is to highlight the melodic nature of the entire band, while attempting to incorporate a little bit of this, that and the other. Namely hard rock, soft rock, balladry and a little bit of folksiness for good measure. In the hands of a lesser band, the result could have been a horrible hotchpotch. But in the hands of seasoned professionals like The Foo Fighters, it is an enjoyable and ultimately successful album that is very much worth a listen.
 

Copyright C. 2008 Davey Boy

Blue Merle: Burning In The Sun (2005)-Amber Vilate

Thursday, April 3rd, 2008

Blue Merle: Burning In The Sun (2005)

By Amber Vilate
 
My true music education began a couple of years ago.
 
Like most other people, my music taste when I was young was pretty much confined to what they played on the radio. I had a few other, random musical enjoyments (my parents exposed my siblings and I to music they like so my repertoire already including the likes of the Eagles, the Beatles and Cat Stevens) such as Aerosmith, a band much older than my time. Mostly, though, I allowed the radio to dictate what I liked and listened to.
 
That is a natural thing for young people, no matter what quality music they could hear if they tried. These days, it’s no different, although what they play on the radio is different. I think I got out of high school at the right time – we were still listening to alternapop and tragic love instead of “emo” and all the cookie-cutter bands with lead singers who sound like Billy Joe. Once the music started in that direction, though, with rap adding largely into the mix, I realized something.
 
I couldn’t count on the radio any longer.
 
I hated almost everything that came on. I despise rap. I loathe punk. Even most of the bands that play alternapop, these days, aren’t worth a damn. They all sound the same. I can’t distinguish one lead singer from another and the bands could be switched around with no one noticing. It’s a sorry state we find ourselves in and when I first realized this, I felt I might just be out of luck. Where could I go to find music that sounded different than the crap on the radio? I soon found out.
 
I have quite the eclectic taste in music – from Breaking Benjamin to Damien Rice to classical, jazz and “smooth” music. Basically, if a band sounds unique, I am almost guaranteed to like that band. And it all started with one amazing, original and talented band: Blue Merle.
 
I happened to be wandering around a music store one day, hoping to come across something good, tucked away and almost unnoticed. I searched for CDs that were under $10.00 because I figured that would be a good place to look for unique music. I stumbled upon a CD that had some nice cover art and decided to take a listen. Each snippet was only 30 seconds. I listened to the first song and was disappointed when it ended. Second song, the same thing. Third, yep – the same. After listening to each sample, I knew I had to hear more. I was hooked.
 
The band. Guitar, normal. Drums, normal. Upright bass? Banjo? Mandolin? Violin? I’d never really heard such a combination before. What rock/pop band uses an upright bass instead of a bass guitar? The instruments I’ve listed seem like they’d be more appropriate in a country band.
Well, Blue Merle was a little country. They were also a little blues, a little rock and roll, a little pop and a little jazz. They meshed these sounds together so well that it’s hard to pick out one specific music genre for them. All I know is that they never received the radio time they so rightly deserved. 
 
Their first album, sadly, has been their only album. The band broke up to do independent work not too long after the album came out. But while they were together, it was magical. At least, to me it was. The sound is smooth, clear and it gets right into my bones. Sometimes it’s melancholy and sometimes it’s hopeful. It’s a little difficult to describe what they do sound like, it’s easy to say what they don’t sound like. No harsh vocals. They don’t sound like they come from the “street.” They don’t sound like they were once preppy, frat boys who suddenly decided they could sing emo/punk. There are no swear words to mar the smooth, beachy lyrics.
 
The music is not “easy listening” despite the mellow, smoothness of it. It’s not elevator music and it’s not something you might hear playing in a dentist’s office. The cd is easily passed over by many simply because they aren’t used to hearing artful, soulful, intelligent music.
 
“Burning in the Sun,” the title track, starts the album off on the right foot. The beginning of the song even sounds like a sunrise would, if the sun made music. It builds as the story builds until you can almost see the sun high overhead. A beautiful image, despite the sad story of the song. Then there is a wonderful fiddle/violin solo that just sweeps through and carries a listener to the end.
 
Instead of carrying on with that mood, it switches up with the next song, “If I Could.” A tale of mellow melancholy with a bit of hope thrown in. Wonderful lyrics, wonderful music. And the next song, “Lucky to Know You,” changes the mood, once again, with more sweeping music and beautiful, fluttering violin that just makes a person want to smile. Perhaps the best song on the album (or at least, my favorite) is “Places.” Again, the instrumentation is beautiful. Fiddle and mandolin work hand-in-hand to give the feeling of being in an airport, which is where the lyrics place the singer. Yes, it’s a love song – being stuck in an airport or traveling or in a place where your lover is not. They capture the feeling perfectly. The other really notable song is “Part of Your History.” It’s sad, but accepting. It’s something that, I’m sure, most everyone has felt at one point or another. And the mandolin on this is just incredibly lovely. After hearing this, I almost wish that every band would have a mandolin in it.
 
“Have you ever heard the sounds in the shadows of a song?” As they ask in “Every Ship Must Sail Away,” yes – I have heard the sounds. Each song on this album has delightful shadows and nuances. The art is well-painted with harmony, melody, lyrics and instrumentation.
 
This album changed my view of music and started me out on my musical journey, educating me in the art of music. I am more grateful to Blue Merle than to any other band or artist that I’ve experienced. Take a listen, if you can find the album. Maybe you’ll hear what I mean.
 
Copyright C. 2008 Amber Vilate

Robert Plant and Allison Krauss: Raising Sand (2007)-Adam Fisch

Thursday, April 3rd, 2008

Robert Plant & Allison Krauss- Raising Sand (2007)

By Adam Fisch
 
There’s a certain difficulty in being a living legend. The twilight of Robert Plant’s musical life has been shrouded in lukewarm reaction to solo records and swarms of never ending rumors and hopes for a Led Zeppelin reunion (which did indeed go down). The burden of choosing the next musical direction in the face of such scrutiny must be a heavy one to bear.
 
In yet another career turnaround, Plant has decided to leave the rock behind for a little while and record a haunting album of old folk standards. In a way he could not have chosen more perfect companions for an experimental, out of step journey like this one. Allison Krauss, the charismatic leader of Union Station and mainstay in everything bluegrass, won her first Grammy at just 22 years old. T-Bone Burnett, the album’s producer credited with much of the song selection, saw an unexpected explosion in popularity following his production of the soundtrack to the 2000 film O Brother, Where Art Thou. These three all have experience with trying to meet lofty expectations, and they all must have considered the possible career ramifications of a disastrous reaction to a folk record recorded by the lead singer of the greatest hard rock band of all time.
 
Fortunately, none have seen any reason to worry. The record listens sweetly, and reactions have been almost universally positive and entirely deserved. There is something strangely familiar about this collection, though many of the songs had, until now, been largely forgotten over time. While anyone familiar with Krauss’ catalogue is used to hearing her distinct sound on songs like these, Plant sounds so comfortable in this style it becomes hard to imagine that “Rock & Roll” and “Immigration Song” were the products of the same talent. Only “Fortunate Teller”, on the latter half of the record, sounds like anything that could have fit into the Zeppelin ouvre.
 
While “Gone, Gone, Gone” won a Grammy for Best Pop Collaboration, it’s tracks like “Through the Morning, Through the Night” and “Stick With Me Baby” that take full advantage of the strange, beautiful dynamic of Krauss and Plant’s vocals. Plant’s voice meanders along, crawling in and out of Krauss’ slow, steady delivery in a dance that has the spirit of an old lovers’ conversation, a strong-minded woman and an arrogant man, that executes into memorable harmony. The tracks move effortlessly, and have an energy and spontaneity that sound like they could have been recorded in an afternoon and released the next day. Raising Sand is a perfect reminder that talent still wins out over expectation. Let them make believers of you.
 
Copyright C. 2008 Adam Fisch
 

The Past Is A Bouquet Of Dead Words-Austin Wallace

Thursday, April 3rd, 2008

The Past Is A Bouquet of Dead Words
By Austin Wallace
 
Whorls of worlds
enwomb abandoned thoughts.
 
Like sidewalk scraps, someday
 
someone will stumble through them again,
groping through words
to find a lost world’s fingerprints –
 
most smudge everything they touch,
while some touch everything they smirch.
 
Copyright C. 2008 Austin Wallace

 

Lack Of Insomnia-Danny Washington

Thursday, April 3rd, 2008

Lack Of Insomnia
By Danny Washington
 
It’s hard to deny confusion
when her confident, unyielding stare
is fixed into your eyes.
It’s such an easy thing,
to downplay this disease
which can cause so much doubt,
when down could be up, and left
is almost certainly right.
You’re not sure why it is
that you can only walk at night,
or why you feel the need to poison yourself
to little or no avail.

Lets talk of moving away
and finally making that change.
Not too big a distance
but to a new and exciting landscape,
a vision we’ve only briefly visited.
Don’t care for the cuisine,
but the weather seems good enough.
True, we don’t know the area,
and the prices may be steep.
Also the climate can be a little erratic
but that adds to the charm.

Suddenly that sickening feeling returns.
An unavoidable temptress, wrestles her way into sight.
Whether she enjoys it or not
her relentless tormenting will not stop,
at least until I can rest my aching head.
In the morning I’ll have slept my uncertainty away,
but I have no doubt she’ll be waiting
with her confident, unyielding stare.

Copyright C. 2008 Danny Washington

Where Is Everyone?-Danny Washington

Thursday, April 3rd, 2008
Where Is Everyone?
By Danny Washington
Where is everyone?
Street lights shine but aren’t guiding the way,
merely casting a dim light against cars
parked menacingly in the middle of the road.
In the absence of sound there is something new,
not quite silence, but an empty space where noise used to exist.
It’s hard to believe, but even the wind has abandoned this place.
Even so, the surrounding environment is most definitely cold.

But where is everyone?
I wonder if there’s a meeting, to which I was not invited.
Or perhaps someones having a party… No to quiet for that.
Windows have been left open, and the Doors left unlocked
are so common, it seems people left in a hurry.
Perhaps something bad is coming.
Or something good has just left.
Perhaps everyone tired of city life.

I have the unsettling feeling, that even my footsteps
are making no sound on this deserted street.
The young couple, fresh faced and holding hands.
The sightseers, the night club goers, the tired and the world warn…
All gone. And with no mark left behind.
Nothing to suggest they had ever been there.

The streets are dry, the sky clear.
No scuttling rats, no buzzing machines.
Not a solitary hint of life.

So where is everyone?
Has everyone gone to bed?
Are they hiding something?
Perhaps they’ve all been killed, but then
why am I still here?
And the most frightening question was still to come.

Had they ever been there?
Had they ever walked hand in hand, talking loudly
into mobile phones. Had they ever exchanged kisses,
or thrown fists at one another.
Had they ever listened to a song, or picked a flower.

Had I ever been here?
Had I ever laughed at a joke, or had a cup of coffee.
Had I ever read a book, or watched a film.
Perhaps I hadn’t, but that still doesn’t answer my question.

Where is everyone?

Copyright C. 2008 Danny Washington
 

Skyline-Danny Washington

Thursday, April 3rd, 2008

Skyline
By Danny Washington
We’re at this place, through no fault of our own.
We did nothing wrong, but we still give in.
It’s such a clear night and all I can hope
is that the sun doesn’t come; to end the
closest thing I’ll have to perfect tonight.

The music can play back so loud out here,
a view of the city sprawled out in front.
The lights of the metropolis flicker,
dancing in time to the sounds that we make.
To anxious of our surroundings to care
about the dark journey we’re beginning.
Such superficial trinkets are amongst
the most beautiful views one can hope for,
from a city at night, such as this one.

So rarely is anything as divine
as the company I share in this place.
Still, all through my apprehension and doubt
I know that when the next night rolls around
I may be on my own, or I may not.
I could be depressed, trippin’, or angry.
I could be listening to some music,
melancholic and dark, or a tight groove.

But I’ll still have this skyline for a view.
Bright lights in the dark, so many colours.
All different heights, in a forest of steel
filled with dark creatures, fighting over mates.
Down in dingy holes or above the trees,
scuttling around desperately in dirt,
trying so endlessly to find their point.
Seeking out food and a warm place to sleep
if only for a few peaceful hours,
because then the day comes
and a host of other creatures awake.

So many lives to perceive as I will,
so many beliefs and dreams to be shared.
And it’ll always be here. Every night.

Copyright C. 2008 Danny Washington
 

Sitting Pretty Naive-Lauren Singer

Thursday, April 3rd, 2008
Sitting Pretty Naïve
By Lauren Singer
 
billie holiday whispers,
sequin dress.
a fool’s cocked eyebrow,
waits for new years eve.
strapless number, itching smoke-stained
fingers, scrubbed to finesse.
that heat from the breath that
hangs on the lips
of a forlorn lover’s kiss.
the steady incantations of one
who speaks too soon but not enough.
 
waits for promises made
and never believes them to be broken.
 
while he gets off rocks
in whiskey sours, the length of his
fingers tearing wider another woman’s
stocking run.
 
the truth is almost always poetic
 

Copyright C. 2008 Lauren Singer

Mess-Lauren Singer

Thursday, April 3rd, 2008

Mess
By Lauren Singer
 
every muse, wasted, underswept by demons in an asphalt trunk. the night
lingers like stale breath caught in a basin of dirty water. every eyelid is
a quivering pinprick towards delusion. the lights are on, only for the sake
of feigned company. there is none. not tonight.
 
the clothes strewn haphazard on the shag rug; lived in/loved in. in your
uprightness i have found the rigidity of faith. it is a broken seldom that i
turn my phrase towards you in earnestness and ask for recognition.
 
being a woman means that you have to judge yourself constantly. often for no reason at all. every part of my body is a grounds to cattle prod and snicker at. everything is a controlled means to some distant end that makes me feel more denied and human. every hunger pain or full plate or cigarette a proof positive self examination of fight or flight to the degree of dissection. it’s not enough you want me. i’m fucked up man, i’m doing you a favor.
 
repressed recollection: fifteen. virginal promiscuous. in the back of his
mother’s car, borrowed. blue cloth upholstery, right up to my face, the
microfibers getting into my mouth as he clumsily pulls my bra straps and
chews awkwardly the skin of my neck. his dick throbbing into my thigh, i
feel like i’m achieving something. i’m jerking him off and putting him in my
mouth. he grabs the top of my head and he’s muttering, just talking bullshit
to himself and gasping. and he says, "i love you" and starts coming. i gag
immediately, spit the shit all over the upholstery and grab him by his
collar bones, bring him close into my face covered in semen and ask him what he said. "nothing." and then i’m screaming at him, hysterical, "don’t ever fucking say that to me. not like that. not like that!" and i’m walking alongside his car leaving him with his dick in his hands. and he thinks i’m fucking crazy.
 
you, lying next to me, your hand on my face. the word, "beautiful" and it’s
accusatory implications. and what makes me beautiful? the concave of my
hipbones digging into the mattress, the buds of my nipples puckering at your
touch? the jagged line of my shoulder blades pressing into your back when
we’re sleeping or the purse of my lips; pensive? and while this is what you
may see in your skewed analysis, i fear the word you would give to the
obsession of you leaving. the purging and the plotting. the self-hatred and
the ridicule, the cold showers and the ugliness of nudity through a broken
mirror that multiplies worst fears into reflective broken glass? and in your
words, the beauty that you see is only through your eyes. what you cannot
see is going to destroy you, so when i close mine and shake my head, you
cannot know what i am thinking. i am trying to protect you by keeping you
away. it doesn’t help that you’re persistent. and even though i’m sure i do,
please don’t tell me that you love me.
 
i am someone’s woman
 

Copyright C. 2008 Lauren Singer

I Am Someone’s Woman-Lauren Singer

Thursday, April 3rd, 2008
I Am Someone’s Woman
By Lauren Singer
 
i’m thinking about him in his bright blue underwear,
and his unmatched socks crawling over me into bed,
falling asleep with the movie on and saying
"don’t fidget" and me repeating
‘fidget, fidget, fidget’ until it’s not a word anymore
and he is snoring, and i’m just watching him next to me
in front of the window by my bed, and all the weather.
 
and we don’t talk a lot about serious things
but sometimes we hug for so long it hurts my chest
and i can’t tell if he really loves me,
my messy hair and my thunder thighs, my dirty mouth,
or if he just needs someone to love so bad
that he’ll take me waking next to him
over waking up alone.
 
Copyright C. 2008 Lauren Singer