David Bowie performs “Five Years” live on The Old Grey Whistle Test, first broadcast in 1972.
Excellent live version of one of my favorite R.E.M. songs.
Let’s acknowledge the elephant in the room, shall we? Manners, the debut album from Cambridge quintet Passion Pit, sounds a hell of a lot like MGMT. This is not to say that Passion Pit are thieves, mind you; with three keyboard players, a bass player and a drummer, there are only so many ways your band can sound, especially when your singer has a helium-soaked voice like Passion Pit’s singer and songwriter Michael Angelakos. So yes, the band sounds like a streamlined version of MGMT (a.k.a. they don’t dabble in psychedelia), but let’s not throw the book at them just yet. Indeed, Manners is a rather impressive melding of ’80s synth-pop with modern-day technique. Lead single “The Reeling” is stunning, a pop makeover of the Chemical Brothers’ “Star Guitar” with a monster cut & paste drum track. “Folds in Your Hands” has its roots in early ’90s house music, and “Sleepyhead,” with its fairy princess backing vocal line, is insidiously catchy. Whether or not it falls in another band’s shadow, Manners is a good first step; it will be interesting to see where they go from here. (Frenchkiss 2009)
What do you get when you cross a classically trained but independently minded pianist with two folk/rock instrumentalists? You get a Joni Mitchell/Aimee Mann/Jenny Lewis hybrid, which is probably accurate when describing the music of New York City based trio Elizabeth & the Catapult. This jazzy alt-pop trio, fronted by singer Elizabeth Ziman, released an EP on their own in 2006 and then created enough of a buzz through touring that they were courted by major labels. But they ultimately signed with indie Verve Forecast, and the guess here is so that the group could maintain creative control, which is a good thing for all of us. Their full length debut, Taller Children, has two of the group’s best tracks from the EP, the bouncy and snarky “Momma’s Boy” and the dreamy, Jill Cunniff-ish “Right Next to You.” But there’s much more, with the rest of the LP continuing to jump between bouncy and dreamy, but Ziman and her cohorts deliver it all with precision and pizazz. Other standouts are the uber catchy title track, melancholy “Rainiest Day of Summer” and quirky “Everybody Knows.” (Verve Forecast 2009)
Who would’ve thought that I’d be sitting here on June 25, 2009, drinking to the memory of Michael Jackson?
Not me, that’s for goddamned sure. I’d been following the various stories about his upcoming residency at London’s O2 Arena, idly wondering if perhaps the outrageous number of sold-out shows might well inspire Michael to tour the States again. As it happens, my wife was pondering the very same possibility. She and I have our own informal lists of artists we’ve never caught in concert but hope to see someday, and he was a lock for both of us. That’d probably explain why, when I told her the news of Michael’s death earlier today, she burst into tears.
We have seen the Elvis Presley of our generation, and he was Michael Jackson.
You can’t overstate Michael’s importance to people who grew up in the ‘80s. Sure, his time with his brothers in the Jackson 5 during the ‘70s resulted in some damned fine music, and I’ll gladly trumpet the merits of his 1979 album, Off the Wall, as the second best thing he released in his career, but you know it and I know it: Thriller was the shit. It sold 26 million copies, it produced an unprecedented seven Top 10 singles, and it was the soundtrack to my teen years. No matter how “alternative” my tastes in music may have gotten, from the Sex Pistols to the Velvet Underground, Robyn Hitchcock to Social Distortion, I have never hesitated to acknowledge that Thriller is one of my favorite albums of all time. I get how people who didn’t live through the astronomical success of the record can’t conceive how you can know that Michael was accused of pedophilia and yet still declare that he was and, to a certain extent, always will be the King of Pop.
But it’s true. He is.
That’s not to say that his reign hadn’t been without its problems, obviously, and the problem with an album like Thriller is that, after the dust has settled, there’s only one question left to be asked: how the hell do you follow it up? It’s easy to say that Michael never came anywhere near matching that record, but, hey, I just listened to “Dirty Diana” and followed it up with “Smooth Criminal,” so don’t tell me that Bad doesn’t have some kick-ass moments on it, too. I don’t necessarily have the same level of love for Dangerous (although “Remember the Time” has definitely withstood the test of time quite well), but I do think that, had he opted to release the new-material disc of HIStory – known as HIStory Continues – separately rather than couple it with a best-of disc, a lot more people would be praising it today. I still think “Stranger in Moscow” is one of the best songs the guy ever did, and if you’ve ever been sympathetic to the plight of a young boy growing up in the spotlight and never getting a chance to be a kid, then the song and video for “Childhood” just might make you tear up…like it’s doing to me right now.
But I’ve got to be honest: Michael’s last studio album, 2001′s Invincible, didn’t do a whole lot for me (“You Rock My World” and “Butterflies” excepted), and I’ve spent most of the last five years doing nothing but criticizing the guy for not doing everything in his power to mount a comeback.
Back in 2004, Michael released his poorly named Ultimate Collection – a seemingly random selection of singles, album tracks, rarities, demos, and previously unreleased material from the vaults – and I took him to task for it. “With everything he’s gone through in his personal life in recent years,” I said, “what he really needs far more than anything else is to kick-start his musical credibility. The perfect way to do that would’ve been to put together a definitive collection of all of his hits, spread out across as many discs as it takes to do the job properly…and I’m talking somebody-shake-the-cobwebs-off-‘Farewell My Summer Love’ definitive.”
But he didn’t.
In 2005, he announced that he was busy producing an all-star charity single called “I Have A Dream” to help raise relief funds for victims of Hurricane Katrina.
But he never released it.
And when the 25th anniversary of his most iconic album rolled around, he celebrated the event not by taking the opportunity to release a new album but, rather, to drag a bunch of newer artists into the studio to either remix or re-record songs from Thriller.
At the time, I said…
But he didn’t.
What hurts the most about Michael dying now is that, finally, it looked like he was going to get off his arse and do something about reclaiming his legacy as a superstar of pop. He had these sold-out dates in the UK, and for once, despite all of the false starts he’d offered over the course of the last half-decade, it looked like he was actually going to come back.
And, then, he was gone.
I found out about Michael’s death just as I was walking out the door to take my three-year-old daughter along with me to the grocery store. She was already in the car, in fact, so when I went outside and got behind the wheel, I felt obliged to tell her why I’d taken so long.
I said, “Michael Jackson died, sweetie. That’s why I’m a little upset.”
“You liked him?” she asked.
“I did,” I replied. “He was one of Daddy’s favorite singers.” Then I hesitated for a second and clarified, “Well, maybe he wasn’t one of my favorite singers. But he was very, very important to me and Mama. We listened to him all the time when we were growing up. And that’s why we’re sad.”
And, then, my daughter – God bless her – put the whole thing in perspective by asking a single question: “But you can still listen to his music, right?”
Absolutely right. And that’s why, when we sat down to dinner at the Harris household tonight, we did so listening to Thriller.
Goodbye, Michael. Thanks for the memories…and the music.
A movie about the art form of mash-ups that features mash-ups of the movie within the movie itself? We’re pretty sure we just heard the space/time continuum begin to rip at the prospect. Director Brett Gaylor attempts to make sense of the intellectual property laws that allow some musicians to steal riffs and make millions (Led Zeppelin, the Stones), while other, more cutting-edge musicians are branded as criminals (Girl Talk), and the end result is “Rip! A Remix Manifesto,” a wake-up call to Big Media that, whether they like or not, the rules have changed. Gaylor declares Walt Disney to be the first mash-up artist, and absolutely pummels publishing company Warner-Chappell for refusing to let “Happy Birthday” to enter the public domain (it’s true: if you sing that song, ever, you’re a thief), and for suing Radiohead fans for mash-ups once W-C acquired the rights to In Rainbows. Truth be told, the doc isn’t quite a five-star affair – we were frankly surprised that he didn’t mention when John Fogerty was sued for ripping off one of his own songs – but we’re giving it an extra star because “Rip!” addresses an issue that needs to be sorted out sooner rather than later. Indeed, one could argue that the music industry’s very survival depends on it. (Disinformation 2009)
Moby, you can get stomped by Obie — you 36-year-old bald-headed fag, blow me
Those words may have seemed somewhat clever in 2002, but seven years later, Moby’s still here, and arguably as relevant as ever. Matter of fact, he’s just about to release his ninth album, titled Wait for Me, and to celebrate, he sat down for a chat with Bullz-Eye’s James B. Eldred in which he discussed the recording and creative process, his waning popularity in America, and what he thinks the future of the record industry holds.
Remarkably candid about everything from his creative process to his cost of living, Moby comes across as thoughtful and contemplative — just like Wait for Me, which is being described as a somber and meditative departure from his last album, the more upbeat Last Night. And, much as you might expect for an artist who runs a site full of free tracks from his vaults, he’s pretty pragmatic about this whole Internet filesharing thing:
To read more of Moby’s Bullz-Eye interview — and learn about his gear setup, what went into the making of Wait for Me, and what he’d do if given the chance to produce a Britney Spears record, click here!
Yeah, you see that right — it’s the Edge, Jimmy Page, and Jack White noodling together in a big-ass guitar summit, and someone was close by with a camera to capture the whole thing. That “someone” was Davis Guggenheim, who conducted interviews with the axe-gunning trio for his upcoming documentary “It Might Get Loud.” The “Inconvenient Truth” director spoke with each guitarist about his personal musical journey — and it culminated, of course, in a jam session. Watch the trailer below, and keep an eye on Bullz-Eye’s coverage for more!
When UK bands were crashing on American shores during the Britpop boom of the mid ’90s, it made sense that Pulp would have a more difficult time making the transfer than some of their contemporaries. Singer Jarvis Cocker’s lyrics were steeped in class warfare and bedroom politics, meaning that most American teenagers wouldn’t quite understand what it meant to live like common people. Flash-forward a dozen years or so, and Brooklyn band Amazing Baby, born from the ashes of several other Brooklyn bands, lets their Pulp flag fly on Rewild, and the results are intoxicating. Ringing guitar lines, breathy but deathly serious vocals and pogo-friendly drum beats abound, but Amazing Baby are no knockoff band; Pulp, for example, would never have written “The Narwhal,” though Supergrass might have. After enduring band after band of self-absorbed ninnies, to see a group like Amazing Baby actually enjoying themselves is a sight for sore eyes. More, please. (Shangri-La 2009)
DJ Adam Freeland, recording under his last name alone, has finally released his second full-length album, CopeTM. Teaming up with Kurt Baumann for vocals and guitar work, Freeland stays well within his breakbeat roots while taking a romp through the many permutations of electronica and pop. With a full coterie of guest musicians, he creates an intriguing collection of songs that are more rock than dance, more driving than grooving. Influences abound: “Under Control” sounds like a perfect LCD Soundsystem track, “Rock On” is oh so Beck-ish, and “Silent Speaking” could be off of any number of Delerium discs… but all of this is a good thing. Freeland and Baumann tie it all together with distorted guitar synths and a constant energy that demands a fast car with a booming stereo and windows down, especially on “Only a Fool (Can Die),” which teams them up with Jerry Casale of Devo fame. At over six minutes, it is the longest and flat-out best song on the album. If there is any real weakness on CopeTM, it is the opening track, “Do You?” The listener has to get through this rather repetitive, non-melodic, simplistic opener to get to the good stuff, and this is unfortunate. It would be a shame to dismiss this very solid collection because one never got past the first song. Marine Parade 2009