RIYL: Marshall Crenshaw, Del Amitri, Toad the Wet Sprocket
The Gin Blossoms pulled a nifty comeback when they dropped Major Lodge Victory in 2006. It didn’t exactly reinvent the wheel, but this is the Gin Blossoms we’re talking about – they’re just not one of those bands, and there isn’t a goddamn thing wrong with that. Unfortunately, while the band may not be reinventing themselves, they are repeating a disturbing pattern from their days in the spotlight: following a good album with an inferior one.
And whle we’re talking about their first “inferior” album, let’s be clear about one thing up front: Congratulations I’m Sorry was not a bad record. Granted, it wasn’t a great record, but its biggest crime was that it wasn’t able to catch the public off guard like New Miserable Experience did. As radio songs go, “Day Job,” “Follow You Down” and “Not Only Numb” are only slightly, only slightly behind “Hey Jealousy,” “Found Out About You” and “Mrs. Rita” on the ear candy scale. The biggest thing Congratulations had against it was timing, and the same could be said of No Chocolate Cake. Once the Blossoms put Major Lodge Victory on the shelves, they lost the element of surprise once again. Chocolate Cake is perfectly pleasant, and occasionally more than that, namely “Wave Bye Bye” and “Something Real,” which was inexplicably relegated to the album’s basement (song #10 out of 11). Lead single “Miss Disarray” hits all of the same buttons that their earlier songs hit; the problem is that those buttons don’t work anymore.
But is that the Gin Blossoms’ fault? If anything, give them credit for sticking to their guns and doing the one thing they know how to do really well, commercial prospects be damned. A weaker band would have turned in some lame Rob Thomas knockoff a decade ago for another chance at the brass ring. Not the Gin Blossoms. If they’re going down, they’re going down doing what they love, and they deserve credit for that. Besides, that corporate circuit is a profitable one, from what we’ve heard, and there isn’t a goddamn thing wrong with that, either. (429 Records 2010)
RIYL: Sparks, My Chemical Romance, They Might Be Giants, Rocky Horror Picture Show
Ludo is a band that just keeps getting weirder, and that’s really saying something considering their second release was Broken Bride, a rock opera EP about atime-traveling scientist who, while on a quest to save his dead wife, ends up battling Satan and his army of zombies with his own legion of pterodactyls. The follow up to to Broken Bride was You’re Awful, I Love You. And while it found them on a major label for the first time, it didn’t stop singer/guitarist Andrew Volpe from penning horror-themed tunes about evil zombies in Lake Pontchartrain and stalker neighbors.
Ludo’s journey into insanity continues with Prepare the Preparations, an album that switches between lighthearted wackiness and the genuinely disturbing so much that it should be prescribed medication for manic depression.. It speaks volumes that the most mainstream-sounding track on Prepare the Preparations is “Whipped Cream,” a tongue-in-cheek ode to using the confectionery as a sex aid. From there things get downright insane. “Anything for You” is a deceptive love ballad that sounds normal at first, but as Volpe sings about his adventures in space, travels across the astral plane and meetings with leprechauns, it becomes apparent that this isn’t your typical love song. The same goes for “All the Stars in Texas” an ode from one bank robber to another, and “Manta Ray,” a song that may or may not be sung from the perspective of a man drowning himself (and someone else?) in his car. Its theme is subtle and not exactly clear. Something that cannot be said for the theatrical “Cyborgs vs Robots” and “Skeletons on Parade,” two songs so goofy that They Might Be Giants would think they’re too silly.
Ludo’s unique brand of weird will probably alienate ten times the people it attracts, but those who do enjoy Prepare the Preparations will absolutely fall in love with it. Most likely while driving to a horror movie convention. (Island 2010)
If you’re a fan of Heart, you probably have an affinity for their early stuff, as in the Dreamboat Annie days. Or you might have been hooked in the ‘80s, when, as singer Ann Wilson says, the band “made a devil’s bargain” – i.e. they wrote pop songs that the label wanted them to, such as “Never” and “If Looks Could Kill.” Not that those songs were bad; in fact, some would argue that this is when Heart really arrived. Still, these sisters and their band mates appear to long for the “good old days,” when they could emulate their biggest inspiration, Led Zeppelin. And now with Red Velvet Car, Heart’s first studio album since Jupiter’s Darling in 2004, they have succeeded. A big reason is producer Ben Mink, who has re-created the best of the “old” Heart but has given it a slick, current feel as well. The songwriting is top-notch, and while Ann Wilson’s voice is showing signs of weathering, you can put this album up against any heritage act’s new material and it will stand up, and above, just about anything.
“There You Go” kicks off with a similar rhythmic riff to one of Heart’s biggest hits, “Straight On,” and it’s a solid start. And the Zeppelin vibe is in full glory on “WTF,” “Queen City,” and in particular on “Death Valley,” with Nancy Wilson emulating Jimmy Page’s tone and playing with sick precision. But the band shines big on the title track, on which Ann belts it out like in her heyday, and on a track Nancy sings, the acoustic driven “Hey You.” “Safronias Monk” feels like 1978, and the closer, “Sand,” also sounds like classic Heart, but maybe more like an anthem from the ‘80s. It can’t be easy to say you want to go back to your roots and actually do it, but Heart appears to have done just that. And despite the fact that the sisters Wilson have been rolling along for years on tour, Red Velvet Car is the type of effort that should, and might, win “comeback of the year” awards. (Sony Legacy 2010)
Made the mistake of taking the week off after finishing the Lollapalooza recap. 200 press releases later (actually, there are still over 100 to go), here we are. The lesson appears to be ‘never go on vacation.’ Yeah, that’s just not happening.
Chromeo – Don’t Turn the Lights On (Christian Martin Remix)
We are positively dying to hear Business Casual, the new album by funk poppers Chromeo, but until then this (killer) single will have to do. This remix of the track doesn’t quite kill it like the album version, but hey, it’s free. And speaking of having the lights on…
Lights On – Red Lights Flashing
…and that’s all these bands have in common. This is more driving alt-rock a la the Killers and Airborne Toxic Event.
Ursula – Hey You! (Shake Edit)
We’d post an mp3 of Fred Schneider reading soup recipes if we had ’em, but this guest vocal, mashed up with “Shake” by ’60s band the Shadows of Knight, will have to do.
The Gay Blades – Try to Understand
Gay as in merry, and happy. Truth be told, we don’t know if anyone in the Gay Blades is actually gay, nor do we care. As long as they churn out catchy pop rock like this, it’s all good.
Tamaryn – Love Fade
The name alone suggested some diva R&B singer, but this is anything but. More like Mazzy Star, with a pulse.
The Black Ryder – Let It Go
And while we’re in the swirly-rock groove (not sure what else to call that. Shoegazer doesn’t seem quite fitting, nor does psych rock), here’s another slow, slightly noisy tune from a band that just got a slot opening for the Cult. Huh. Can’t say I would have seen that coming based on this tune.
Brad Laner – Eyes Close
We always try to support those dedicated, sorry bastards who still believe in power pop. By all rights, this tune, with vocals that Elliott Smith would have killed for (too soon?), should find an audience. Here you go, audience. Find this, please.
RIYL: Watching people bare their souls for all the world to see, risking abject humiliation in the process
I have not done many interviews in my time as senior editor for Bullz-Eye.com – certainly not in comparison to my good friend and colleague Will Harris, who does roughly six million interviews a year – and yet, there aren’t that many people left that I am dying to talk to. I interviewed boyhood idol John Taylor in 2005 (big story behind that one, which you can find here), and have picked off members of Blur, the Kaiser Chiefs, Hard-Fi and Depeche Mode along the way. The only three big ones left on my list were Glenn Tilbrook of Squeeze, Neil Tennant of the Pet Shop Boys, and Bryan Ferry.
I scratched one of them off the list yesterday. Glenn Tilbrook was doing press to promote Squeeze’s new album Spot the Difference – which the band readily admits was made for licensing purposes so they can rake in a little extra cash from soundtrack supervisors and advertisers – which meant I had the opportunity to tell him something I’ve wanted to tell him for a long time: that Squeeze’s 1991 album Play saved my life.
Here’s the back story: I was involved in a tempestuous relationship with a girl who was under tremendous pressure from her parents to stop seeing me. And, wanting to please her parents and therefore make life easier, she started to listen to them, even after I had moved cross-country to be with her. Finally, I gave up, and made plans to move to Boston with my brother. I was working at a record store before I left, and they had a promo copy of Play. Since the people who frequented the suburban mall that housed the record store had no interest in Squeeze, the manager let me take it home. Home at the time was a flea-infested apartment I shared with some older guy. It was not where the heart is, which is why this album proved to be a massive source of comfort.
There seemed to be a song on the album for each emotion I was feeling at any given moment, with a lyric to match. “Each day’s a hope, each day’s a prayer, that I’ll rebuild and I’ll repair,” from “There Is a Voice,” or the opening lines to “Crying in My Sleep,” which I would sing to myself while busing tables, one of my three jobs after landing in Boston: “Breaking up is breaking my heart and showing me the door / But if I get it open, I’ll discover that there’s much more to life than this.” Even for the songs that weren’t an exact match to my situation, there was a vibe to it that resonated with me. I needed to feel better about myself. Play helped me do that.
Flash-forward 19 years, and I’m having a Skype chat with Tilbrook, who’s vacationing in the south of England after finishing what he calls the best tour of the States he’s ever done. And I lay it all on the line.
BE: On a personal note, you should know that Play basically saved my life.
GT: (Stunned) Wow.
BE: I was going through a hellacious breakup, and that album was extremely comforting to me. I know it didn’t sell a lot of records, but I’m so glad you guys made it.
GT: You know, a man who’s subsequently become my best friend said exactly the same thing to me! He was going through a divorce at that same time, and said, “Play, it just got me through.” Wow, that is really weird. What a weird coincidence. ‘Cause not that many people heard the record anyway, and that’s one of our best records, I think.
Here’s the thing I wanted to mention, but obviously don’t have the data to back up: I find it highly unlikely that Glenn’s friend and I are the only ones who were saved by this album. Is there anyone else out there who found solace, and ultimately rebirth, in these songs? It can’t be only me and this other guy…can it?
Back me up here, people. Does anyone else have the emotional connection to Play that I have? Let’s hear your stories in the comment section.
Lastly, thank you Glenn (and Chris) for writing such moving songs, and for being a great interview. Can’t wait to hear the new material you’re working on. Oh, and as a post-script, I ended up getting back together with the girl in question and dating her for another few years, and in following her to Chicago, I met the woman who would become my wife. It took a little longer than I hoped, but I got that door open after all.
