Category: Rock (Page 196 of 241)

Notes from the Orphanage IV

Let’s get straight to it, shall we?

Autodrone: Panic EP (Big Bit of Beauty)
Naming Your Band 101: Do not make “drone” any part of your band name. Other words to avoid include “pain,” “ugly” and “creed.” To be fair, Autodrone’s music does no droning of any kind, but that’s because singer Rachel Luria can’t carry a tune in a bucket, so droning on and on is pretty much impossible for them. The band’s sound is akin to college rock circa 1990, i.e. they wish they were half as good as Throwing Muses. They’re not.

Klaxons: Xan Valleys EP (Modular)
Remember when Flaming Lips released four albums that were supposed to be played at the same time to put everything together? Klaxons decided to do that all on one record. Everyone here seems to be doing his own thing, making the end result about as far removed from flow as you can imagine. This is the kind of music that plays in the Futureheads’ darkest, most twisted dreams. Take that comment any way you like.

LCD Soundsystem: 45:33: Nike + Original Run
The second installment in the Original Run series, this is a significant upgrade over Crystal Method’s mix, which was dreadfully dull. The discs are specifically designed for joggers, so they include a slow build at the front and a cool-down at the end. The groove doesn’t change too drastically, but it is still engaging nonetheless. The one thing they must address, though, is the decision to make the entire album one, long, track. That may be great for running, but it’s not so much fun in the car or the house.

Turn Off the Stars: Turn Off the Stars (Credential Recordings)
Anyone who’s seriously jonesing for a new Coldplay or Doves record should look this one up post-haste. This Ontario quartet has worshiped at the altar of both bands, and while they don’t quite eclipse their idols, it is a more than respectable effort nonetheless.

Joseph Arthur: Nuclear Daydream (Lonely Astronaut)
Granted, Arthur is not the kind of guy who deserves to be orphaned, but really, who does deserve it? His new one is, well, just like the others: occasionally bouncy but mostly gloomy, slightly Neil Young-ish with a faint whiff of Belle & Sebastian (“Enough to Get Away”). “Entertainment Weekly” kisses Arthur’s feet every chance they get, and while he’s a formidable talent, there are better albums out there than this.

A Top 13…? Sure, why not.

In a recent promotion involving the release of the L.E.O. album, Bleu provided folks who purchased the record through Not Lame Records with his top 13 essential albums of all time. The list was posted to an E-mail list I’m on, and, predictably, it spurred everyone to start sending out their own top 13 lists…so here’s mine, and feel free to submit your own as well:

1. The Beatles, Magical Mystery Tour: I know I’m supposed to pick Revolver or Sgt. Pepper, but over the years, I’ve come to realize that any album which contains “I Am the Walrus,” “Penny Lane,” “Strawberry Fields Forever,” “Your Mother Should Know,” and “All You Need Is Love” is really the Beatles album that I’ll listen to more often than any other, “Blue Jay Way” be damned.
2. The Smiths, The Queen Is Dead. If only because of “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out.” Of course, there are plenty of other reasons to include it, since I love every song, but that one song is ultimately the reason it’s essential for me.
3. Jellyfish, Spilt Milk. So is it true that you’re either a Bellybutton man or a Split Milk man, and that you can’t be both…?
4. The Beach Boys, Pet Sounds. It didn’t hit me like a ton of bricks, as it did others, but when it did hit me, WOW.
5. a-ha, Hunting High and Low. I didn’t even listen to this album until after their time on the US charts had come and gone, but once it did, I wondered why the hell I’d never paid any attention to them before.
6. Pet Shop Boys, Very. It was officially the point where Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe stopped mattering in the States, but it was also when I realized that I rather preferred it that way.


7. R.E.M., Lifes Rich Pageant. Seeing these guys at William and Mary Hall when they were touring behind Document was a formative moment in my appreciation of alternative music, and of all their albums, this remains my favorite.
8. The Merrymakers, No Sleep ‘Til Famous. This was the album that convinced me that there was something in the water in Sweden that gave its residents the ability to write incredibly catchy pop hooks.
9. Robyn Hitchcock and the Egyptians, Globe of Frogs. I could list any number of Hitchcock albums here, but this is one I’m forever returning to.
10. Squeeze, Frank. A dark horse in the Squeeze discography, to be sure, but when I worked at a record store, my manager said, “You must listen to this album.” I continue to thank her for that to this day.
11. Johnny Cash, Live at Folsom Prison. Because I can still remember listening to it on 8-track while riding in my dad’s Ford pick-up.
12. XTC, Skylarking. Andy Partridge may still grimace at the memory of working with Todd Rundgren, but even he can’t fault the end result.
13. Sex Pistols, Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols. Because it fucking rocks. Period.

Yawn. A new Smithereens album.

Why the yawning for one of my favorite bands of all time? Because it’s been seven years since the band’s last studio album, and they’re breaking their silence with…an album of covers. Okay, sure, it’s a cute gimmick – the album’s called Meet the Smithereens, and they’ve re-recorded Meet the Beatles in its entirety – but a less devout fan might well suggest that the band’s running creatively dry…

Mix Disc Monday: Rainy Day Songs

You know how some songs were just meant for rainy days? I started this list and it had a few songs with ”rain” in the title, but I thought that was kind of cheating. Leaving that out made things more interesting. This is a good mix to sit on your front porch (under cover, of course) and watch the rain as you listen to some cool tunes.

“Jane,” Ben Folds Five (The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner)
Ben has a lot of songs that could have wound up on this list, but “Jane” earns that distinction with its minor key and somewhat somber mood.

“So at Last,” Butch Walker (Letters)
Butch is singing about Southern California in this song, but there is no denying the rainy day feel of it. I’d be really surprised if Butch wasn’t in Minneapolis on a crappy day when he wrote it.

“Let It Die,” Feist (Let It Die)
The aching beauty of this song can practically inflict wounds on the human body. This is Leslie Feist at her best.

“Cold Again,” Freedy Johnston (This Perfect World)
You can almost feel the chilly air as Mr. Johnston sings about walking over the Brooklyn Bridge. You can also probably taste the half-burnt, half-frozen pretzel from a New York City street vendor.

“Flair,” Josh Rouse (Dressed Up Like Nebraska)
This album is full of up-tempo jangly acoustic rock songs. But this one is dark and somber and awesome all at the same time.

“After Tomorrow,” LUCE (LUCE)
This track is more optimistic than sad lyrically, but the overall vibe is perfect for gray skies.

“Jen Is Bringin’ the Drugs,” Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s (The Dust of Retreat)
Here is how the lyrics start: “Jen is bringin’ the drugs / She wants to get real fucked up.” I mean, it’s not a bad idea on a rainy day.

“Don’t Believe,” Marjorie Fair (Self Help Serenade)
Most of the debut album from this band has that dreamy, underwater feel to it. And it’s bordering on brilliant.

“Suburbia,” Matthew Good (Beautiful Midnight)
One of the best under-the-radar albums of the last 10 years, Matthew Good must have written this entire album when he was in a real funk. And, you know, that always makes for the best music.

“You Just Forgot,” Mindy Smith (Long Island Shores)
This one was released maybe a month ago. Being fresh in my mind may have helped the song land here, but I think maybe it will still be a great rainy day track 10 years from now. What a voice on this chick.

“You Are Mine,” Mute Math (Mute Math)
A stunning song from a stunning debut. This is movie soundtrack material.

“Things behind the Sun,” Nick Drake (Pink Moon)
Quite honestly, you could put this song on the list 15 times and forget about the other 14. But that would be way less fun.

“Salesman at the Day of the Parade,” Rogue Wave (Descended Like Vultures)
Does Sub Pop sign any acts that don’t make rainy day songs? Not really.

“God of Wine,” Third Eye Blind (Third Eye Blind)
The last four tracks on the band’s debut album are so depressing yet somehow so compelling. Pass me the bottle.

“Windmills,” Toad the Wet Sprocket (Dulcinea)
This track will make you remember why you fell in love with Toad in the first place. Glen Phillips is my freaking hero, and this incredible song is one of his best.

Well it’s a nice day for a…White Christmas

Okay, I’m actually deeply, ridiculously addicted to both Christmas music covers and Billy Idol…so this album should be a good idea, right?

Sigh.

What have they done to my Billy? First they cleaned him up and put him in a spiffy suit and silk shirt with nary a rip, metal stud, nor mesh insert to be found…and then they completed his emasculation by giving him the lamest track list ever:

• Frosty the Snowman
• Silver Bells
• Happy Holidays
• Merry Christmas Baby
• White Christmas
• Here Comes Santa Claus
• God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
• Santa Claus Is Back In Town
• Let It Snow
• Winter Wonderland
• Run Rudolph Run
• Blue Christmas
• Jingle Bell Rock
• Christmas Love
• Oh Christmas Tree
• Silent Night
• Auld Lang Syne

Seriously, does anyone ever need to sing “Jingle Bell Rock” again? Especially if they are not even going to be allowed to, you know, rock on it? And, please: Frosty the Freakin’ Snowman? Where’s Billy supposed to slip in his trademark sneer on that one?

Videos for “White Christmas” (which, no, does not feature any improvised lyrics from “White Wedding” mixed in — another missed opportunity) and the dreaded “Jingle Bell Rock” are available on Billy’s MySpace page…but if you’re looking for Christmas music with an edge, you’d be better off checking out Collective Soul’s kickass cover of “Blue Christmas” or, if you can find it, Bad Religion’s decidedly raucous “Silent Night” (which breaks into, of all things, a riff from “My Sharona” at one point).

Check out the videos and streaming mp3s if you want to. Meanwhile, I’ll be over in the corner, fiendishly plotting the slow and painful demise of whoever sanded all the rough edges off my rebel hero.

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