Liner Notes

Blunderbuss: Jack White drifts in and out of classic rock revival

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Wed, 16 May 2012 20:10:00 +0000

Jack White: artist or revivalist?

Jack White, the pale, floppy-haired guitar master behind the White Stripes, Raconteurs and Dead Weather, released a solo record a few weeks back called Blunderbuss. Like its name sake, the record sounds really cool but is still an expensive museum piece.

Often, White is really at his best here. He writes very good songs, has a cool and strange voice and,finally, he has a backing band that can play. There's a lot to like.

There are some really neat songs on Blunderbuss. "Freedom at 21," "Missing Pieces" and "Sixteen Saltines" at the album's starting point are all White Stripes-style blues rockers with more effort put into arrangement. The sound is a lot bigger, which I think is a good thing.

Then there are songs like "Weep Themselves to Sleep," a dramatic big-rock song with a lead piano that sounds like it might have been co-written by the guys in Queen. It's exceptionally cool.

Often, White sounds a lot like he's trapped somewhere between big-haired '70s rock and the that Detroit / Stooges-do-the-blues sound with which he made his name a decade ago. Listen to the last track, Take Me With You When You Go." It's an ambitious mix of those sounds, complete with a gospel choir that is mostly, I think a success.

Where Blunderbuss lags for me is some of the ballad -paced numbers that hew a little too close to that '70s light rock. As original as he can be, songs like "Blunderbuss" and the country-ish "Hypocritical Kiss," are hard to defend as works of original art.

And that's where my nagging feelings about White's worth as an artist begin to gnaw. Is he really that great? Or is he just a classic rock revivalist? In a lot of ways he's both. I'd like to hear him, once, throw out the standards book and follow his weirder musical instincts. I suspect he's capable of doing something genuinely brilliant.

In the end, Blunderbuss is a good rock record -- worlds better than the Dead Weather and definitely good enough to stand up to his White Stripes work. I'm just going to hope he does better next time.

White was impressive on Colbert

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Mon, 30 Apr 2012 13:53:00 +0000

I wrote a while back that I thought Jack White's best production was behind him.

Then, last week, I saw him on the Colbert Report -- with a pretty badass backing band -- for a performance of "Freedom at 21" off his new record, Blunderbuss. The tune had the usual White signature retro-blues-garage sound, but the song was pretty far left of center.

And the band is really good. The drummer here (check the video for yourself) is light years better than any other I've heard with White. For the first time with White, it didn't sound like I was listening to a gimmick. This is music.

I have to say. after seeing the performance, I'm interested in giving the new record a shot. If the performances measure up to what he did on the Colbert Report, it may be his best record yet.

The Colbert Report
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Spiritualized: Big British rock to tug the heart strings

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Sun, 29 Apr 2012 15:41:00 +0000

Spiriualized's Jason Pierce

There's a whiff of brit rock revival in the air. Blur isn't getting back together after all*, but the band announced a massive retrospective (box set ) of its 21-year history. Jarvis Cocker is out touring with Pulp again. (check them out on Jimme Fallon last week.)

And this month saw the release of Spiritualized's 7th record, Sweet Heart Sweet Light.

What always struck me as great about British rock bands -- through the mid and lat '90s especially -- was the way they could do big productions but still make the music sound vital and cool, not just simply polished. No matter how much added value they got out of the studio, the music was still rock. It had attitude to spare, awesomely loud guitar playing (Blur's Graham Coxon is still among my favorite guitar players of all time) and wasn't nearly as sloppy as a lot of the indie coming out of the states.

Since Spiritualized's masterful 1997 record, Ladies and Gentlemen, We are Floating in Space, band leader Jason Pierce has done the same. His music blends droning shoe-gaze and fuzzy guitars with big gospel choirs and Motown production. He is simultaneously a whiny indie guitarist and a Phil Spector-like wizard of his very own wall of sound. Like his British rock peers, he never shies away from the big gesture.

Sweet Heart Sweet Light finds Pierce back at those sounds that make up the band's last record, 2008's Sounds in A&E. This time, there is something simple about the entire approach. There are a lot of fmiliar sounds on Sweet Heart... There are jangly '60s rock sounds like "Hey Jane" and the R&B, string section tinged "Little Girl." There are plaintive ballads like "Freedom" and "Too Late." And there's the just plain beautiful "So Long You Pretty Thing" which begins with a duet between Pierce and his 11-year-old daughter, Poppy.

What makes the record a great listen is that through the big numbers, over that wall of sound and droning guitars, Pierce is not a great singer at all. He has virtually no range or power. But on a record that is overly concerned with life's brevity (I think death and mortality figure in almost every song -- Pierce fought off a life-threating illness in 2005 and it's hard not to hear the reverberations in his music since), the fragile quality of Pierce's melodies just works.

As simple and almost sentimental as he can be sometimes, Pierce is able to steer clear of sounding sappy. In fact, even at it's most derivative moments, Sweet Heart Sweet Light sounds definitively authentic, not at all dated.

* Update Aug. 14 Damon Albarn reportedly left the band during a recording session with William Orbit, but the band got back together to close the Olympics on Sunday, Aug. 12. It might be their last show ever, or not.... who knows.

The Shins polish up their pop for Port of Morrow

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Wed, 28 Mar 2012 20:07:00 +0000

James Mercer is back with a new, heavyweight The Shins record.

Twelve years ago, at the dawn of the aughts, The Shins achieved a bunch of buzz on the back end of the "garage rock" craze -- a lo-fi sound that covered a whole slew of "the" bands from The Von Bondies to The Libertines -- and an assist from the indie sweetheart film, Garden State. Natalie Portman and Zach Braff meet over a Shins song.

Now, Shins frontman and songwriter, James Mercer, is back with a new The Shins record, Port of Morrow, and a new The Shins band -- the original members departed after Mercer broke them up in 2009 or so. The result is a pretty enjoyable record with very strong pop sensibilities. It is at once far removed from the garage sound of the band's Sub Pop debut, Oh, Inverted World, yet not far at all from band leader James Mercer's upbeat songwriting and trademark vocals.

Between The Shins big break on Garden State and Port of Morrow, The Shins released two critically acclaimed records, 2003's Chutes Too Narrow and 2007's Wincing the Night Away -- and Mercer, began recording with Brian "Danger Mouse" Burton as Broken Bells, which also put out a critically acclaimed record in 2010. That record did so well, it seemed Mercer was going to dedicate his time going forward to that project.

But he had promised the whole time that The Shins would rock again. And so they do, for the most part. Port of Morrow starts really strong with the rocking "The Rifle's Spiral" and "Simple Song," a big anthem tune propelled by a back beat and an open, catchy chorus.

Things slow down a bit after this but remain sharp. There's a couple of melancholy guitar strummers -- old hat for Mercer -- and a few really interesting pop tunes. There are the tropical sounds of "Bait and Switch," the breezy "No Way Down" and the aptly performed "Fall of '82," which sounds like it could have been done by Joe Jackson. Mercer is capable of changing formats quickly and skillfully. He has a knack for pop that may be on display here more than any other record he's done before.

Old-school fans might be turned off a little by the Shins' new sheen. The record certainly has its more mainstream moments and a polish that puts it slightly at odds with Shins records of old. I can appreciate that sentiment. My favorite Shins record, Chutes Too Narrow, definitely has a more rough-around-the-edges sound. It has almost a classic British Invasion feel to it. It was what made the band charming then.

That's gone from Port of Morrow, yet Mercer managed to retain a lot of what makes The Shins, well, The Shins. The songs are energetic and upbeat, even at their most melancholy. Mercer is not a gloomy guy, or at least he never sounds that way. His songwriting, musically,always feels optimistic and human to me. Even when he's in mid-country-sad-ballad-man mode, he doesn't sound beat. His sad songs are always more beautiful than broken down.

And, more than anything else, Mercer's vocals are pretty much their own thing. Everything he sings is going to sound like The Shins. In fact, some of the melodies here recall Shins tunes of the past. So, yeah, more went into this record's production, for sure, but I don't think that lessened the essentials here. It still sounds sincere. And it sounds really good. Port of Morrow is a solid record, professionally performed and heartfelt at the same time.

Grooveshark: Painless way to try out tunes before you, er, buy 'em

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Fri, 17 Feb 2012 19:40:00 +0000

I recently wrote positive things about Spotify. And I meant them.

But things change. I'm no longer using a Mac as a daily driver and Spotify's desktop app is not the most stable thing in the world on Ubuntu, the Linux OS I'm now using every day. So I'm not using Spotify anymore, either.

So naturally, I've been looking for alternative services to preview records. It's a pretty helpful thing to do when you're trying to keep up with a music blog. No need to do any more than dial up a record and listen to it a few times, free of charge.

Curious, I just recently tried Grooveshark. And so far, I have to say, it's been a real winner. I'm using a handy little web application called Nuvola Player for Linux (if you have Ubuntu, check it out), which does a real nice job of integrating online music services right into the desktop. But you don't need a web app to run Grooveshark. It will run in any reasonably modern browser.

Even better than that, you don't need to log in. That's right. No need to sign up with a Facebook account and broadcast your listening choices to all your "friends." ["Hey Dave... I see your listening to Gordon Lightfoot on Spotify right now... I had no idea!"] All you need to do is punch up the service and start listening.

And, to top it off, users can listen to music, for free, with no limits. The only imposition is a flash or banner ad every time you go to search for new music. But there's not even any audio interruption like every other music service I've ever used.

Hopefully, Grooveshark will help me get back on my blogging horse. I've listened to four or five new records today while working and at least one was really good -- the new Mark Lanegan Band album, Blues Funeral, which I will try to write about soon.

For everyone else, give Grooveshark a try. There's no reason not to.

Craig Finn goes for gravitas over guitars

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Sun, 05 Feb 2012 17:15:00 +0000

Craig Finn is looking as clean cut as his new solo record.

Craig Finn, the bespectacled front man of The Hold Steady, has a solo debut out called Clear Heart Full Eyes. It's a nice, but mostly predictable sort of record -- the kind that you'd expect from a straight-forward rock and roll prose stylist like Finn.

For anybody well-versed in The Hold Steady, Finn's word-rich lyrical style is still there. As a solo artist, though, he steers clear of the wall-of-guitar sound that propels the best Hold Steady tunes. Here, guitars mostly provide the ambiance for a set of songs that swing from slow blues jams to alt country-ish whiskey drinkers.

Finn is a good story teller. And here, like in his work with The Hold Steady, the lyrics drawyou in. You know there's more going on then the usual vague lines about love or loss in the typical rock song. Yet Finn is never pretentious. He's always populist. And here the songs and lyrics seem to mesh well. His songs sound like conversations in bars, never declarations from the remove of a high rooftop. It's what I like about him.

Clear Heart Full Eyes sounds good at first listen, but there's not a lot of reason to come back for more. The record actually begins with the blues. "Apollo Bay" isn't Eric Clapton-awful blues, but its blues just the same. I have nothing against the blues, but it's such a predictable move for an aging rock singer. The effect is to create a record that sounds like it was made for adult alternative radio (for Philly Readers, it's sounds like a lock for a top 10 pick on WXPN). It sounds like a record written for Boomer rock critics.

In several songs here, however, Finn really accomplishes something new. "When No One's Watching" and "No Future," Finn has crafted some fine rock songs. Both sound fresh and free from the kind of easy genre identification that mar the rest of the record. They suggest he might have done better...

In fact, what tarnishes the rest of the record for me is just that. There are country tunes and slow noodlers that all com.e from the well-worn solo-record playbook. Perhaps Finn was too concerned to draw a distinction between his solo work and that of The Hold Steady. On one hand, it's fine rock music. It's just not ambitious. Perhaps that's fine, but I would like a little more.

My point is this: Finn is a good songwriter and he's crafted a record that sounds really good. But that's about as good as any criticism this record deserves. I suspect -- and I know, I say this too often -- that he could have done betterClear Heart Full Eyes. I wish there was more gut here and less thoughtfulness. Clear Heart Full Eyes has some pretty terrific moments. The rest sound like a soundtrack for late night driving -- the kind of drive during which you're in danger of falling asleep at the wheel.

Fishbone: The Movie

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 17:55:00 +0000

I was a huge fan of Fishbone. In high school, as a kid learning to play bass, Fishbone's amazing Norwood Fisher was an inspiration. As a lot of other strange West Coast band's -- from Jane's Addiction to Primus -- became popular, Fishbone faltered, even though they were far more interesting, creative and just plain musical.

1991's The Reality of My Surroundings was about as big as the band ever got. The album is a masterpiece, a mix of metal, funk and soul, the likes of which have not been heard since.

A film about the band is screening now. It's not scheduled for a Philly area showing, but I'm keeping an eye out. Of all the early '90s bands getting retrospectives on the big screen, (Tribe Called Quest, Blur, Pearl Jam), Fishbone has got to be the most interesting one I've heard of. Any movie about a band in which some band members tried to kidnap a guitarist who they believed had been brainwashed by religious fanatics has got to be good. It looks like all that is in the film.

I hope the film helps Angelo Moore and Norwood keep going. They've been at it for 30 years. Amazing.

RBFF - "Everyday Sunshine: The Story of Fishbone" - documentary trailer from Tilapia Film on Vimeo.

Favorites of 2011

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Thu, 22 Dec 2011 21:21:00 +0000

This wasn't the best year for new music from my view.

I promise I'm not sliding into a haze of oldster griping about nothing being good anymore (I'm sure that's coming some time). It's just that little of the new music this year held up to last year's best. Nothing, certainly, approached The National's High Violet, far and away the record of the year for 2010.

For me, the year's best records sound like music's future. Not its past. A lot of indie rock this year has felt far too mired in trying to sound like it was recorded in the '50s. That's fine. Some of those records are enjoyable, but I have a hard time getting past the gimmick of that sound being much more than just that: a nostalgia trip. It sounds neither fresh nor particularly like art. What do those bands sound like outside of the studio?

My list this year of must have's is very brief. But here it is:

The best

"The best almost-a-whole-record goes to Radiohead's King of Limbs. Even though it's not an LP, Radiohead continue to be the one popular rock band that can push music forward. No band is making music like Radiohead. At a time when nostalgic throwback sounds dominate rock and indie, Radiohead is in its own league."

What I said when I wrote about the record in March:

King of Limbs is indeed small. That doesn't mean it is less. It is not a huge, sweeping collection like OK Computer, Hail to the Thief or In Rainbows. It is not a record intended for the arena. It's a sound that made In Rainbows sound so much different. Sure, that album had its guitar numbers, but the songs had less reverberating atmosphere than Radiohead of the past. It sounded as if the instruments were plugged directly into the studio board. King of Limbs is even more quiet. It's an album of earphone gems: eight intimate, largely electronic tracks in which the guitars -- and Thom Yorke, Jonny Greenwood and Ed O'Brien are as skilled a set of six-string players as you'll find anywhere -- are relegated mostly to supporting roles in a mix that is much more about rhythm, melody and atmosphere.

The next best thing

Right on Radiohead's heals for me, this year, is TV on the Radio's Nine Points of Light. While it's more conventional than King of Limbs, Nine Points of Light doesn't sound like much of anything else you've ever heard. When I wrote about the band in April, I thought they sounded a lot like the kind of music George Clinton and Funkadelic might make if they were contemporaries.

Yet even my comparison doesn't really give TV on the Radio the credit the band deserves. I spent more hours listening to Nine Points of Light than any other record released this year.

Here's what I wrote about the record back in April:

"The band's new record Nine Types of Light, it's fifth full length, is not just funk, or just experimental or just indie rock. It's a solid album of 10 songs that manage to serve up provocative lyrics and song structures over a musical mix of electronics, guitars and beats that are just as captivating. What TVOTR manages to do is create a music that is strange, but not strange for the sake of being different. The band's songs are about everything from lust and love to consciousness and spirit. Musically, it's shooting for a sound that is universal -- one that can be daring and experimental but without sacrificing the essential bedrock of a killer groove."

The one that got away

The one album I liked a lot that I did not get a proper chance to write about was St. Vicnent's Strange Mercy. Annie Clark (St. Vincent is a stage name, or something like that) continues to be a pretty amazing artist. She's a neat guitar player, an unconventional songwriter and has developed a sound that is really her own.

And that's really, I think the hallmark of a great artist. St. Vincent is distinct and interesting. You can listen and feel like you're hearing something you've definitely never heard before. Much like Radiohead and TV on the Radio, St. Vincent sounds a lot more like the future of music than its past, which right now is saying something.

The runner up

Finally, to round out this short list, Antlers' Burst Apart. I really enjoyed this record more than I ever thought I would. Here's what I had to say about the record in May:

"It's a sound that is ahead and of what is the cutting edge in indie rock, a new intersection of shoegaze moodiness with a worldly instrumental approach that has put the guitars behind in the mix (usually, anyway). The new goal is to reach listeners in a different way that doesn't require beating on their eardrums quite so hard. Bands are not just trying new ways to saw the air with sonic attack (though, I do love that sort of thing). You can hear the exploration of new territory. Not all those experiments have worked, but I think The Antlers have found some interesting new places for rock today."

Thats it. I hope next year is little better. I could use some good music, something that surprises and shocks us again.

World's hardest working band, The Black Keys, didn't work hard enough on El Camino

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 20:38:00 +0000

The Black Keys are all work. Perhaps they needed a little more time
for their latest, El Camino, a good record that sounds a little stale.

Is there a harder working band in all of Rockdom than The Black Keys?

No other serious rock band I know of works at the same pace. The blues/garage duo from Akron have released 7 LPs in the last 10 years. In addition, they recorded the superb Chulahoma EP, produced and recorded the Blackroc record, wrote a record for the late Ike Turner and frontman Dan Auerbach had a solo record that very well could have been another Black Keys album.

That work ethic has certainly paid off. If you had told me in 2003 that The Keys would be headlining the Wells Fargo center in Philadelphia in 8 years, I would have said you were nuts. I liked the band a lot, still do, but I never would have guessed theirs was an arena-filling sound.

But now, with El Camino, the band is much more popular, having steadily built a loyal fan base all while slowly evolving from the sparse blues-heavy sound of the early records to a more retro-rocking garage sound complete with regular bass and keyboard sounds, helped plenty over the last few years by collaborations with super producer Danger Mouse, who produced Attack & Release and El Camino. It's been an evolution I've been excited to hear.

Yet, for some reason, I can't help but feeling like El Camino is a slight step backwards. And I'm kind of surprised to write that.

Why? For one, the record is good. It's what we've come to expect from the Black Keys. There are some killer hooks, great-sounding guitar riffs and Auerbach's superb, soulful voice. The opener, Lonely Boy is the perfect kickoff. What more can you ask for? "Sisters" is another awesome track.

But there are some pretty boring moments on El Camino. It's the first time since Magic Potion that I find myself constantly driven to hit the fast forward to the next track. "Little Black Keys" is the perfect example. It begins with an acoustic section that recalls Traffic's John Barleycorn Must Die" before Auerbach stomps on the distortion pedal and cranks out a riff that immediately sounds a lot like a bluesy cover of Tom Petty's "Last Dance With Mary Jane."

And that's the danger The Keys constantly face: They're not slavishly derivative like so much music today, yet they're a band with an aesthetic that's decidedly traditional. At their best, they're able to play with those classic sounds and surprise the listener. Attack & Release's "Strange Times" comes to mind. As does last year's single from Brothers, "Tighten Up." Both songs do great things with rhythm and sound. "Strange Times" has that great, creepy chorus. "Tighten Up''s rhythmic tempo change midway through the song is awesome every time I hear it.

But when the surprise wears off, they can sound like a bar-version of the Steve Miller Band or ZZ Top -- a band with solid rock delivery but it's nothing you haven't heard before. And El Camino, despite its good qualities, the whole enterprise is a collection of B sides that didn't quite make the cut for Brothers. We've heard it before and it was better the first time.

That said, I think El Camino is a solid B/B+ of a record. It sounds great, particularly blasting from your speakers on a road trip, the tempo rarely ever slips too low to be perfect driving music. Perhaps a little more time to season the songs might have helped. They're all fine songs, but They're just not quite as strong as the last two records.

Coldplay keeps trying to get those U2 shoes to fit

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 20:04:00 +0000

Cold Play is big. But are they U2 big?
And is that even a fair question?

It's been a while since I've written a word about music. I've been really busy and relatively uninspired by new music -- not a good mix for a hobby blog about music. But I thought I'd take a second here to talk about one album that's now a classic and a second one that is brand new and what they have in common.

Lost a little in the discussion of seminal grunge and alternative records celebrating 20 years -- from Nirvana's Nevermind to Pearl Jam's Ten -- is the 20th anniversary of another record, this one by a super group and, like R.E.M., one of the bands that, like 'em or not, are really responsible for shaping the sound of rock music for the last 30 years.

That album is U2's Achtung Baby. Achtung Baby is one of those records that's easy to miss in a conversation about seminal recordings, partially because U2 has several other albums that are just as important. It also wasn't representative of the rock sounds of that generation. It was, instead, a career moment for a band that was already closing in on 15 years. It was a statement record by arguably the biggest rock band in the world.

When it was released, I was not a fan. For one it was not the U2 I grew up with -- The U2 of War and Joshua Tree. There was something that was just a little too dancy about Achtung Baby. Also, as a dedicated fan of the underdog in all my tastes at the time, U2's popularity left me even more uninterested. My senior class even picked "One" as the senior prom theme (an irony that I don't think occurred to a single member of my class). A true rock snob just cannot share music taste with the captains of the football team and the cheerleading squad.

Of course now, well removed from the moment and mature enough (?) to be fine with liking big, popular things, I can appreciate the record for not only being a great record with great songs, but also as a remarkable and progressive record. The Edge was already the most idiosyncratic and brilliant guitar stylists of his generation* before Achtung Baby was released. He had found on the new record a way to expand his sound exponentially. He created a footprint of reverb that no one has really filled since.

Aside from the fact that a remastered reissue of Achtung Baby was just released, the album came to mind for me right away when I started listening to Cold Play's new record, Mylo Xyloto.

Cold play in 2011 seems to me to be the direct result of U2. Cold Play now wears the mantle of "Biggest Rock Band in the World," even though the title and competition aren't what they used to be. Like U2, Cold Play is a huge, arena-sized four-man juggernaut from the British Isles. Right now they are what matters in popular rock music.I will not be surprised if Mylo Xyloto's record sales account for 50 percent of all rock record sales by year's end.

And like U2, Cold Play have produced a record with Brian Eno, the heavyweight English producer, Muzak maestro, a cappella music fan and Roxy Music star. Like Achtung Baby, Coldplay have gone drifted towards the groove and the sample. Throughout, the sound of U2 is borrowed. Guitar leads are drenched in Edge-like reverb. The band shapes it's songs around strong melodies and a gifted singer.

But here, I think, the comparison ends. After about three songs, Mylo Xyloto grows really dull. I think Cold Play is gifted, and I think Chris Martin is distinctive enough a singer to be a really great centerpiece for a rock band, but as songwriters and composers, they don't have a lot of variation. In fact, U2-like is about as good a compliment as you can possibly pay them.

The thing is this: When U2 recorded Achtung Baby, they were carving a place for a new sound in rock, a place where many bands (especially English bands) have found fertile ground. They were also taking a risk by going in a really new direction. Many lesser bands would have retreated to their past. U2 charged forward.

Given Cold Play's pull and popularity, a real artistic move would be to challenge listeners a little bit. Instead Mylo Xyloto gives you pretty much exactly what you'd expect from Cold Play. The most shocking moment is when Rhianna joins Martin on "Princess of China." The shock, though, is that the song becomes pretty standard R&B fair, nothing at all new.

I wouldn't say Mylo Xyloto is a bad record. It's a fine set of OK songs from a good band. But I think it's worth being disappointed that Martin and the band couldn't do better. It's hard to believe that anyone will write about them 20 years from now. And I think it's safe to say that no one will recall this record in 20 years.

* Think I'm exaggerating? I know of no other guitarist that is so easily identifiable. You can identify The Edge's playing within seconds, even while a generation of musicians have worked to mine the man's huge sound.

Wilco find a bit of that old spark on The Whole Love

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Sat, 15 Oct 2011 02:01:00 +0000

Wilco today, and, yes, that's a Saturday Night Live shot.

It's been a long time since Wilco turned the musical world on its head with one of the best rock albums of the last 10 years. 2002's Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was an amazing work for a number of reasons. It was the perfect sound for the time. It overturned expectations for a band that had cut its teeth on alt-country and breezy pop, thanks to Jim O'Rourke, whose remix of the material evidently led to a complete remake of the band at the expense of songwriting multi-instrumentalist Jay Bennett. And the band's sound was deemed so revolutionary that its label, Reprise Records, refused to release it. It was all the stuff of a perfect rock legend.

Flash forward to 2011 and Wilco's reputation has not held up so well. Perhaps YHF was so good it was impossible to top. After Bennett's departure, Jeff Tweedy -- the founder, singer and principal songwriter of the band -- assembled a veteran gang of musicians with serious chops and and polish: Nels Cline, Pat Sansone and Glenn Kotche. Yet, with each successive release -- from A Ghost is Born to Sky Blue Sky and Wilco the Album -- the band seemed to lose more and more of its direction, nestling into a pseudo mush of contentedly middle-aged noodle-happy classic rock. There were moments on Wilco the Album in which Tweedy sounded decidedly like Don Henley, the band as limp as an Eagles reunion tour.

So I was surprised to find myself enjoying the band's new album, The Whole Love, which just came out two weeks ago. It's the first Wilco record that's had me humming melodies in a good long while. They've left the proggy guitar workouts of Sky Blue Sky and the limp "dad rock" of Wilco the Album mostly behind. Instead of tired and uninspired, Tweedy and company sound again, finally, like they believe in their material.

The Whole Love starts off very well. "The Art of Almost" throbs into being in a swirl of electronic and string noises over a slick drum beat (that almost recalls something Radiohead might have done) until it breaks in Tweedy's familiar, world-weary voice. It's the most impressive sound the band has managed since A Ghost is Born.

From there there is much about the album that recalls Wilco at its best. "I Might" and "Dawned on Me" are decidedly Summerteeth, a blend of fuzz bass and acoustic guitar rock that is very very much Wilco. "Born Alone" follows later in the same vein... It might have been a track from YHF before O'Rourke got his hands on it.

Holdouts from that sound, perhaps the one place where the album might feel a little lax by some listeners' standards, are the slower songs -- a few country-drenched weepers, particularly "Open Mind." There are songs that recall "Sky Blue Sky" from the same album and even some of Wilco's earliest work, when Tweedy was just beginning to reinvent himself after Uncle Tupelo, the influential alt-country act in which he played guitar, bass and sang, broke up. They don't push the band's sonic palette at all.

These songs, though, despite their simplicity, are good songs. To me they are a reminder that the consistent thing that makes Wilco good is Tweedy. At the heart of the band is Tweedy's heart-on-his-sleeve songwriting and his voice -- that weary, whiny yowl, so rough yet so perfect -- that really gives Wilco its defining sound. Everything else the band does is secondary. Whether it's Beatles-esque pop, deconstructed post-modern rock or slide-guitar drenched ballads, Wilco's success depends on Tweedy's performance as a singer and songwriter.

And it's here were I think The Whole Love is more successful than the last two records Wilco has made. Tweedy and company sound like a coherent unit, and a unit that has found the way to put the songs before individual guitar parts or drum beats. The songs are just better.

It's nice, really, to know that that Tweedy still has it in him. Perhaps not enough inspiration to replicate YHF, but enough to make a record of really good songs.

VIDEO Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks -- "No One Is (As I Are Be)"

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Fri, 02 Sep 2011 19:41:00 +0000

Found this video for the new Malkmus record. Check it out. Hear that Beck?

Stephen Malkmus keeps pace with Mirror Traffic

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Thu, 01 Sep 2011 14:58:00 +0000

Mr. Indie Rock: Stephen Malkmus

I was listening to Mirror Traffic, the brand new solo work of Stephen Malkmus, the 45-year-old frontman of the quintessential '90s indie rock outfit, Pavement, and realized that Malkmus epitomizes my generation's real classic rock.

In the world of serious popular music, where the holy grail is to find that new sound, calling something classic can be tantamount to insult. The term "classic" denotes over-ripe records that have topped radiostation turntables for more than 50 years now. Classic is out-of-date bloozerock. It's "Layla" pumping out of the tattered speakers of a riverside purple van. (Is that freedom rock? Turn it up man!)

That's not what I mean with Malkmus.

Malkmus and Pavement defined indie rock in the '90s. Pavement was relentlessly indie. It remained on Matador Records when it could have easily scored a larger contract from the majors. The band wrote it's own rules for what rock sounded like. Malkmus was wordy and flat as a vocalist, but he was (and still is) a first class songsmith with a gift for catchy melodies that find a snug fit ontop of often-discordant and sometimes sloppy guitar rock. They were, as a band, devoid of style, looking like a group of college dorm refugees more likely to skip calculus than tour as part of Lollapalooza. The band defined the indie slacker ethos.* It was, really, all about the music -- the quirky musical vision of Malkmus.

Now, when I hear Malkmus, whose voice, songs and guitar craft really was the sum and total of Pavement, I hear the '90s. What I hear is classic, and by that I mean it is not only of that time, but timeless, too. In other words, it's evocative of that time but not out of date, at least not any more than any guitar-driven rock. It sounds like the '90s, but does so not because Malkmus is aping trends or simply playing it safe. Malkmus sounds like Pavement because he was Pavement. It sounds as authentic now as it did then.

Of all of Malkmus' records, Mirror Traffic might be the one for which this observation is the most true. Mirror Traffic is the third to be credited to Steve Malkmus and the Jicks (Real Emotional Trash and Pig Lib are the others, his solo debut, Stephen Malkmus and Face the Truth are his others). It is, perhaps the closest to Pavement in sound and scope. Malkmus sticks closer to songcraft than he was with other Jicks records that have had more choreographed guitar excursions. And it is less experimental than Face the Truth or as pop-minded as the debut.

And like Pavement at it's best, Mirror Traffic sounds effortless and breezy -- as if its 15 songs were not much more than accidental, as if Malkmus can simply fill a a whole record with little more than a week of studio work. Of course that quality is what makes Malkmus great for his fans. It's what I like about his songs, he has the ability to make chaotic and difficult songs sound simple. No one else does it so well.

You can call '90s Indie classic, but that doesn't make it easy. The form was never formulaic and Malkmus brings to that open form a willingness to push boundaries with really expert musicianship, driving into jammy territory, but pulling out just in time to keep his songs intact. Musically his songs are sharp, and lyrically they are remarkable. Who else can pull off the following stanza from the opening of "Senator" in a rock song: "The toxins American made / Weapons-class gray sludge for migrants / Dioxin the chemical sunset / The number one subset for all." But you never get hung up listening. It all sounds easy.

Credit for this should also go to Beck Hansen, an indie figure who may be Malkmus' opposite in some ways. Both are inscrutable, slacker icons, perhaps, but while Beck turned an idiosyncratic genre-hopping career into making himself practically a household name, Malkmus worked to perfect his own sound and never let Pavement or his own career lift into the stratosphere. Thankfully, Beck seems to have largely taken a hands-off approach to Malkmus' songs, doing, instead, what a good producer should do: make the record sound great.

There are a few moment that betray Beck's hand a bit, particularly track 2, "No One Is (As I Are Be), an acoustic number that builds into a larger horn arrangement with a final, sparse harmonica melody to finish a tune that would have sounded right at home on Beck's Sea Change. Perhaps that is only evidence that the two have more in common musically than is obvious. Both are now old pros at song craft and both took it far more seriously than appearances ever suggested.

For Pavement fans Mirror Traffic will sound like the good times never stopped rolling. For anyone who hasn't tried Malkmus' solo records, I'd urge them to start listening. While the rest of us have been chasing down new sounds and trends, Malkmus has built a catalog of excellent records without a dud among them. All five are excellent -- flawlessly executed, fun and thoughtful rock records that, as far as I'm concerned, secure Malkmus' place among the greatest songwriters and musicians of my generation.

* Note: There were/are others: Sebadoh for sure, Guided by Voices, Archer of Loaf, etc. None, as good as those bands may be, has Malkmus' or Pavement's stature, in my opinion. Lou Barlow gets second place, though, I think.

Google Music Beta has a blog: Magnifier

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Thu, 18 Aug 2011 19:05:00 +0000

Just came across this: Google Music Beta, a service i'm using all the time now, has a blog with free songs, called Magnifier. If you have Google Music (it's still invite-only, though I think anyone who applies will likely get an invite a couple weeks later). Every day, Magnifier will offer free songs from featured artists.

If you haven't heard My Morning Jacket's new one, head over now and get "Holdin' on to Black Metal" and "The Day is Coming (live)" right now.

Mister Heavenly finds the strange crossroads of doo wop and indie rock

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Thu, 18 Aug 2011 18:43:00 +0000

Kattner, Thorburn and Plummer are Mister Heavenly.

The idea behind Mister Heavenly's Out of Love sounds both preposterous and pompous. The trio -- a veritable indie rock "super group" composed of Man Man's Ryan Kattner, Island's Nick Thorburn and Modest Mouse drummer Joe Plummer -- has called the effort "doom wop," a dark indie rock record inspired by vocal doo wop bands of the '50s. Sounds nuts, doesn't it?

After my initial reaction -- "holy crap this is weird" -- I found the songs on Out of Love to be much more than intellectual exercises or sound experiments but actual, enjoyable songs. True to the concept, a lot of the music has some of the indie rock weirdness you'd expect from a band like Modest Mouse or Man Man, but then, after a good verse of thumping, guitar rock, the band will veer into a Phil Spector-style chorus full of background harmonies and swelling, wall-of-sound-sized key accompaniments.

The real crazy thing is it works.

The record begins a little more conventionally -- at least relative to the players we're dealing with here. In fact it may be the one point that's hard to pin to the overall concept. "Brooklyn Sniper" quickly erupts in a full-on psycho Godzilla rock mode -- I could almost hear Modest Mouse's Isaac Brock on this one -- and may not set tone for the rest of the record, but it does introduce the very bizarre quality of the back and forth vocal qualities of Thorburn and Kattner. Thorburn is a nerdy crooner, who at times sounds like a flat Buddy Holly. Kattner, or the other hand sings in an otherworldly and gravelly howl. At times, it's not too far from Screaming Jay Hawkins.

On the track, Thorburn gives a news-like scen of a gunman on the loose before Kattner begins to wail, from the gunmen's perspective, " I shot you down. You never had a chance in hell. I shot you down and I felt no remorse ..." I guess that's the doom part.

After "Brooklyn Sniper," the music shows much more of that '50s influence. Kattner's piano playing becomes more prominent with "I'm a Hologram" and stays that way through the rest of the record. From here, also, the record really sounds terrific. From rough guitar verses to swelling choruses, the extremes of both sounds hold together really well. It couldn't have been an easy mixing job.

Finally, it's normal for projects like this to produce inferior music. But these are not throw-away songs or extras. These are good, catchy songs. From Kattner's crazy crooning in "Charlene" to the grim "I don't care if you'll never be mine because I'm yours" chorus of "Reggae Pie" and more, these are songs that stick, no matter how odd.

As a special project goes, Mister Heavenly is really pretty good. I would definitely be interested in a follow-up.

OK, maybe I'm wrong about Deerhunter

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Fri, 29 Jul 2011 15:53:00 +0000

I've complained a bit here about "not getting" the indie rock outfit Deer Hunter, whose Halcyon Digest got a lot of attention from critics last year. I've found myself circling back to the record and am really enjoying portions of it. This song, "Desire Lines," performed live on a show called The Interface is a pretty terrific track in my opinion. They're definitely hipster douchebags, but dig these wonderful ambient, cascading guitar lines.

Washed Out's got the theme music to your melancholy summer nights

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Wed, 27 Jul 2011 20:06:00 +0000

As far as music taste goes, I like a lot of different things, but I tend to stick with what I know: buzzy indie guitar rock. Greatest rock band ever as far as I'm concerned is Sonic Youth. Rounding out a list of favorites would be Radiohead, Pavement, Pixies and Modest Mouse.* You get the idea.

I try to factor in those preferences when I approach writing about a record like Washed Out's new one, Within and Without, released by Sub Pop on July 12. It's a pretty good example of where the "dream pop" or "chill wave" wing of indie music is right now: moody and ambient, yet eminently danceable music that owes a great deal to the keyboard-dominated new wave and U.K. pop of the early '80s.

Washed out has been a favorite band of the indie blog tastemakers, like Pitchfork, where the record scored a "Best New Music" tag and a rating of 8.3 (out of a possible 10). The band -- which is really just a stage name for Earnest Greene and his laptop -- received a bunch of buzz on the release of last year's EP Life of Leisure, which featured a well-played single "Feel it All Around." (If you've watched Portlandia starring SNL's Fred Armisen and Sleater-Kinney's Carrie Brownstein, you've heard "Feel it all Around" during the opening sequence.)

I tend to have a knee-jerk reaction to dismiss music made primarily to create a cool vibe. I prefer tunes designed to strike fear in the hearts of those not yet acclimated to sounds of ear-splitting guitars playing against each other. There's something that just seems too easy about popping a melody on top of a steady rhythm and keyboard bass track.

Yet, I can still admire a guy for pursuing an aesthetic as ably as Greene does with Washed Out. In fact, Washed out is a perfect name for the mood Greene establishes with Within and Without. Over 9 songs and just over 40 minutes, Within and Without is a coherent if emotionally muted work of plain melancholy. It sounds exactly like the bedroom record a laptop wizard would whip up in response to the dissolution of a summer fling. It's steamy, sad and exhausted. It could be the score to a film about just that.

Don't get me wrong on "bedroom record", though. The album is intimate, but it's also a slick piece of production that further cements the reputation of producer Ben Allen, whose recent credits include Animal Collective's Merriweather Post Pavilion and Deer Hunter's Halcyon Digest, two records that dominated critics' polls the last few years. Allen has definitely helped the kind of atmospheric indie that shuns guitars distinguish itself on record. Within and Without is no different

Overall, it's not an exciting record, though exciting is clearly not what Greene is after. Instead he has succeeded in making a record that is hushed and intimate, yet not cerebral. Still, it's not just mood music. Within and Without strikes just the right balance between soundtrack and music you have to hear, particularly when considered against the backdrop of what's turning out to be a pretty quiet summer when it comes to new music worth talking about.

*note: That list could vary slightly on any given day I'm asked.

Shit Luck: The Video

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Wed, 27 Jul 2011 14:51:00 +0000

Posted this on Google+ last week... Just happened to find this great fan video for an old Modest Mouse song I really love. It's just a great video

Believe the Hype: Spotify is good

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Thu, 21 Jul 2011 19:22:00 +0000

The Spotify player

So, I managed to grab an "exclusive" invite to Spotify. Those invites were so "exclusive" that music and tech blogs were posting links to what might best be described as mass invite engines. The service launched last Wednesday and I was trying it out by Friday.

What is Spotify? After Google, which also launched this month, Spotify is the most buzzed about music service since Pandora. It started in Europe, where it gained a ton of users, and had been gearing up for a U.S. launch for the better part of the last year.

Does it live up to the hype? I think so. I've never been a big Pandora fan. I've found it really hard to plug in an artist and not land on a song I really didn't want to hear within 15 minutes. I think I've been around for Pandora hitting that sweet spot for a good hour only two or three times. Generally, a good old-fashioned iTunes genius playlist is better. And the new Google Music instant playlist is even better than that.

But with those options, I don't get to hear music I don't have (even though I have a lot). Spotify solves that problem by giving even free accounts access to a huge library of music -- some 15 million songs. And you can listen to whole, unabridged albums. I started off by plugging in Ted Leo and the Pharmacists and listened to his latest Matador record The Brutalist Bricks in its entirety. Every so often, Spotify will queue up a 30 second commercial. I heard several pitches to buy Amos Lee records during my first day of testing the service.

Other benefits to Spotify include the fact that you can sync the service with Facebook, where you can find your Facebook friends who have the service in a little window on the right, look at their public playlists and even recommend artists and albums.

Now there are many services that you'll need to pay to unlock. The free account gives you an amazing access to music, but it's limited to 20 hours a month of listening. $4.99 a month gives you unlimited music streaming and no commercials. $9.99 a month gives you the ability to download tracks to your computer, smartphone or iPod touch.

Some of those features are pretty compelling, but I think that even the free service, as a means of discovering and listening to new music, is pretty valuable, too. There's a "what's new" tab in the player window that gives you the most recent releases and singles. So you won't be abe to rock Spotify day and night with a free account, but you could definitely use it to preview music you're thinking of picking up to own.

I'm going to keep the free account for now. Twenty hours a month will probably be plenty for me to try out new music for this blog, for example. Though I can see some pretty good arguments for the paid service. With the sync-to-phone option, it's conceivable $9.99 a month is all you'd ever have to pay to listen to what you want to listen to again. It's pretty amazing, really.

Yo alt rap: Where's the love?

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Thu, 07 Jul 2011 21:01:00 +0000

Tribe's Phife Dawg, Ali Shaheed Muhammad and Q-Tip

A funny thing happened to me just a few days ago. Well, not funny. Just an unexpected nostalgia trip.

I was perusing my Twitter feed and came across an item on Slate about a new documentary by Michael Rappaport about one of my favorite groups of all time: A Tribe Called Quest. Right after I put the piece down, I got my Tribe all queued up and ready to go: People's Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm, The Low End Theory and Midnight Marauders.

All three albums still sound terrific. They could be brand new. But in fact Tribe's classics are now 20 years old. The middle record in that trio, perhaps the best, was released in 1991. I had been thinking about doing a series on key overlooked rock records that were released in 1991 in response to what will likely be a great big nostalgia dump for the 20th anniversary of Nirvana's Nevermind this September. But I hadn't until that moment thought about the equally great rap records of that same period. In fact 1991 was as great a year for rap as it was for rock.

In 1991, as a number of thug rap acts were really beginning to go big-time mainstream (Exhibit A: Ice Cube's Death Certificate went platinum in less than two months), New York acts* that would later be collectively called alternative rap released a series of records that might arguably constitute a high-culture point for rap as an art form. Tribe Called Quest's The Low End Theory might be the best of the lot. Other terrific records include De La Soul's masterful De La Soul is Dead, The Black Sheep's debut, Wolf in Sheep's Clothing, and Leaders of the New School, which featured a young Busta Rhymes, released A Future Without a Past, which is an overlooked classic.

These acts -- and many more, like the Jungle Brothers, Brand Nubian and the Fu-Schnikens -- led a creative renaissance for rap. The musical foundation expanded into deep funk tracks and classic jazz -- The Low End Theory is thick with samples from Lonnie Liston Smith, Art Blakey, Gary Bartz, Jack DeJohnette and even Weather Report. The great Ron Carter even played live bass on a track. The drum beat was still there but tracks from these guys featured new musical sounds for rap: piano riffs, upright bass groves, slick horn themes. The sound lent the music a level of smart and hip cool that was unmatched in its time.

Tribe explains the mission of The Low End Theory with "We Got The Jazz," which runs into "Buggin' Out."

The subject matter of rap for these acts expanded as well, becoming at once more mundane and creative. Alternative rappers told stories, parodied gangsta rap, and would touch on political consciousness and dating in the same track. While they built on the great late '80s rap acts like Boogie Down Productions and Big Daddy Kane, De La Soul and Tribe Called Quest were not overtly "street." And they were not nearly as serious. In stark contrast to the hardcore scene around it, alternative rap was much more thematically universal. They never conformed to genre and were always, as a consequence, incredibly interesting.

Most of all, what makes these records great is that each maintained coherent themes and felt "complete" unlike the mess into which rap records devolved, weighed down by multiple guest stars and armies of special producers. They're records, not collections of singles and fillers. De La Soul is Dead is less focused, but its expanse -- 24 tracks (5 of which are "skits") over 1 hour and 13 minutes -- is one of the most ambitious rap records ever made. And like other records of the day, the music sampled is rich in funk, jazz and even rock. It makes contemporary rap seem thin and lifeless by comparison.

Despite how universal these groups were, the mainstream rap record buyers -- suburban white kids who were universally busy loading amplifiers and speaker cabinets into the trunks of their used cars when I was in high school -- oddly scooped up loads and loads of hardcore rap and the thoughtful records by Tribe and De La Soul didn't stand much of a chance. This became particularly true as the decade went on and Dr. Dre, 2Pac, Biggie Smalls and other purveyors of a so-called "thug reality" buried alternative rap in obscurity.

As musical appetites go, my love of rap is not terribly deep, but these early '90s records still sound terrific. It just might have been the form's peak. It's nice to see Tribe getting their due in a new documentary, but perhaps some reissues of these classics would be welcome, too. Amidst all the nostalgia grunge is likely to get in the next couple of months, a little love for groundbreaking works by Tribe and De La would be great. It's the least we can do.

*There were West Coast acts, too, including Del the Funky Homosapien, whose I wish My Brother George Was Here also came out in 1991.

Put down that stick: It's time for a new biz model for the RIAA

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Thu, 07 Jul 2011 19:51:00 +0000

I've been thinking of digital piracy and file sharing a bunch since I signed up for Google Music about a month ago.

Google Music and a few other new cloud services by Apple and Amazon have raised a lot of new questions about piracy and file sharing, with some Recording Industry of America legal minds calling such services a way to "launder" pirated songs. Both Google and Amazon, which allow users to upload their music to a cloud locker (a reserved piece of storage on a remote server), launched without first securing license agreements with major record labels. Many observers are wondering when the lawsuits will begin.

The RIAA has spent more than the last 10 years in a all out scorched-earth campaign to try and enforce copyrights and crackdown on file sharing services. Yet 10 years later, there's little evidence that the lawsuits and threats have done much to stop people from downloading whole albums illegally, which for even the least tech savvy users takes a quick Google search and 5 minutes to download a compressed .rar or .zip file. Sales are still really low... so low in fact that Cake was able to top the Billboard Album Charts in the last 6 months. Cake!
Most of us are not going to feel a whole lot of sympathy for record companies, which spent the '80s and '90s gouging customers with $18 cassette and CD prices. It's easy -- having personally spent a fortune on cassettes and CDs through the years -- to see the music industry so perfectly disrupted.

Those price were followed with a remarkably cynical A&R strategy that turned from long-term artist development to a form of talent acquisition that most closely resembled day trading. The late '90s saw the beginnings of this as all the early '90s darlings that had been signed in the hopes that they'd release the next Nevermind were dumped and the majors returned to pop for their big record sale hopes. And artist repertoires suffered tremendously.

As a result, recorded music is no longer a sure-fire cash cow. Kids who have grown up in the last 20 years don't even understand why anyone would pay for music, period. And CDs? It's strictly a medium for Gen Xers and Boomers who never quit buying repackaged back catalogues of the Beatles and Stones.

The RIAA's inability to adapt has been a real mystery to me. In many ways, online sharing poses so many opportunities. It's clear the stick isn't working. Why not try something different?

The first opportunity is viral music. Never has there been a better and less expensive way to reach an audience than the Internet. I wrote about a really great piece by OK GO frontman Damian Kulash on EMI's decision to restrict embedding of the band's video. The OK GO earned tremendous audiences because of the ubiquity of a several really clever videos that were shared millions of times. It's the sort of publicity that would have cost millions to generate 20 years ago.

But even more important is the low cost of distribution. Letting customers download music costs little to nothing. Before the Internet, cassettes and CDs were as important for the cover art and liner notes contained in the package as they were for the songs. But today, with all of that information a quick search or trip to Wikipedia away, it makes sense to just make the music available for download, eliminating the costs of manufacturing and shipping.

Yet the cost of albums on Amazon, iTunes and other mp3 services remain high in relation to lower cost CD prices at Best Buy and Target. A baseline price for a simple 10-song album should be $5. I've noticed this price turn up on Amazon recently -- I bought My Morning Jacket's new album in Mp3 format for a $5 download. The most recent Band of Horses record just went on sale for $5, too, and that download includes a digital booklet.

"Now wait," you might say. "How are artists going to make a living selling their music for $5?"

First, I think more people will buy at $5. Theres a correlation with iPhone apps that people will snap up for $0.99 without thinking (Angry Birds, anyone?). You won't convert hardcore torrent downloaders, but more people would snap up records at $5 than $9.99. Second, if those $5 records reach more people, touring bands should sell more of what really makes them money: concert tickets and T-shirts. In this model, the record is more of a promotion. An act won't be able to sit back and reap profits from album sales, but they should still be able to earn a pretty good living on the road.

But perhaps low cost downloads and web savvy PR ain't enough. One thing though that would really help the RIAA is to come to terms with the new realities of digital and figure out how to create a new business model that doesn't rely on $15 CD sales.

More important, big record labels, and bigger indie labels, too, if they have any value now, is to provide opportunities for young bands to record great music. In an era when musicians can record, release and distribute their music themselves at low cost, the music biz needs to offer something other than a posse of lawyers ready to ride into battle to secure copyrights by any means necessary.

The thing is this: recorded music has never been less valuable as a commodity. The days of wringing a lot of money out of a recording are likely coming to a close for all but the most successful and in-demand acts. If they expect me to fork over money for new music, the music biz is going to need to do a much better job.

Back to the Future: Before grunge there was Dinosaur Jr.

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Fri, 24 Jun 2011 20:12:00 +0000

Mascis, Murph and Barlow (in '87 here) had a lot more to do
with '90s rock than they get credit for.

I'll soon be off to see one of my favorite bands of all time: Dinosaur Jr. They're in Philadelphia tonight to play one of their classic '80s records, Bug, in its entirety. That album, released in 1988, was the Amherst trio's last record together before leader, J. Mascis broke the band up and began recording Dinosaur Jr. as what was essentially a solo act. (Bassist Lou Barlow soon put together another early '90s indie rock powerhouse, Sebadoh).

I mentioned to a friend yesterday, who really didn't know Dinosaur Jr.'s work, that they were basically grunge before there was grunge. There were a lot of indie rock outfits in the late '80s moving from the fast and spartan confines of the hardcore scene and developing a guitar rock that owed more to classic, '60s sounds (Meat Puppets come to mind), but Dinosaur Jr. was creating what would really be a model for a number of loud, guitar bands that were right around the corner. Particularly Nirvana.

With a Nirvana nostalgia onslaught around the corner because of the 20th anniversary of Nevermind, it's worth noting that Dinosaur Jr. had created the perfect space for a shoe-gazing, deeply introverted folky sort of rock on 10,000 volts of distortion. Mascis, the anti-rock star was gangly, long-haired and camera shy in a way that, to me, is eerily similar to Cobain. The only thing Mascis lacked was Cobain's killer voice (Calling what Mascis does singing is charitable). Like Nirvana, Dinosaur Jr. also had a big beat monster of a drummer in Murph and a goofy and stage-friendly bass player in Barlow.

The video for Freak Scene, the single from Bug, 1988.

In the terrific indie rock history Our Band Could Be Your Life: Scenes From The American Underground 1981 -1991, by Michael Azerrad, Barlow tells Azerrad that when he heard Nevermind, he knew right away that Dinosaur Jr. had just missed the crest of a wave of popularity for the kind of rock that his band had pioneered. He describes running into Mascis -- he had already been kicked out of the band at this point -- and telling Mascis, in effect, that the new radio indie darling "should be us."

It's interesting to wonder what might have been. Mascis was certainly popular enough among the indie rock crowd, even as his string of excellent early '90s records: Green Mind, Where You Been and Without a Sound failed to chart as well as those by Seattle's big grunge rock mega bands: Nirvana, Pearl Jam and Soundgarden.

And yet, 25 years after they broke on the indie rock scene, I'm off to see Dinosaur Jr.'s original lineup. Barlow and Mascis reconnected about five years ago and have since produced two outstanding records, Beyond and Farm. Dinosaur Jr. is still here and better than ever. The same can't be said of nearly any so-called grunge band I know of.

Music in the clouds: Two weeks on Google Music

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Tue, 21 Jun 2011 18:08:00 +0000

Google Music's main artist page.

When I'm not obsessing about music, I tend to obsess about technology. I'm a devoted user of Google apps and was excited to give Google Music a try when it was announced last month.

For anyone who doesn't know, Google Music is Google's entre into mp3 storage and playback, but it's all "in the cloud." In other words, it's entirely Web based. You upload your music to Google's servers and play it on anything that can browse the Web.

I got my official invite two weeks ago and uploaded my entire library, a trimmed-down 7,000 songs (just the necessities). The set up was quick and easy. The Mac OSX version adds a music manager application to the OSX system preferences. From there you point the music manager at the file in which you store your music, and it does the rest. Any time I add music to the folder, it's automatically uploaded to Google in the background. I don't even see it happening.

The initial upload lasted approximately 36 hours, but now my entire mp3 collection is on Google's server. So why would you need this?

The benefit is simple. Anything that has a browser can access my whole collection, a collection that is much too large to be really portable. I can stream anything I want on any computer. If I had an Android device, I'd be able to stream and cache songs for offline listening. But the service also works on my iPad where I can stream music right through the iPad's mobile browser. The interface is a bit buggy -- for example you have to play, pause and then play to get an album started. But it works. It's not necessary, but it's a real convenience to able to stream my music to anything that can get online.

An album page in Google Music

But Google Music also has a few other benefits. I've used iTunes since it came out, but Apple's great little music player has become a bloated do-everything syncing service that just does too much. Google Music is simple to use. It has a great search bar to pull up artists and albums. It creates playlists as easily and automatically as iTunes does. In fact its instant mix might be better than Apple's. Also, managing important info and cover art for each album is easier than iTunes. It's a streamlined, easy and intuitive interface, something Google seems to do really well. And it's free.

In two weeks since my invite, I've been using the service nonstop. I prefer it to iTunes simply because I like the interface better. The only caveat for anyone considering using Google Music is that you can upload your music, but you cannot download (at least not yet -- this is beta software). So far it's worked without a hiccup. I can stream music in a browser with a dozen other tabs open, including gmail and Tweetdeck. I've read other reviewers say they wish Google had a service to buy music. I bought an album on Amazon a week ago and it not only downloaded to my music folder locally, but uploaded right away.

So far, Google Music is terrific. If you're tired of swapping song files from one device to another, Google Music is a great way to get around that. I have been on the fence between an iPhone and an Android phone (I like Apple hardware and Goolge software) and Music just might be the killer app that decides the whole thing for me in Android's favor.

Arctic Monkeys: From 0 to 60 in just 5 years

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Thu, 16 Jun 2011 16:35:00 +0000

The Arctic Monkeys have matured a lot in 5 years.

It was only five years ago that all the U.K. music magazines declared The Arctic Monkeys the greatest rock band ever. The band's 2006 debut Whatever People Say I am, That's What I'm Not broke the British record for fastest selling debut album ever. And, unlike a lot of English indie rock (every band not named Oasis), the record did pretty well in the states, too.

The U.K. rock press declares a new Beatles every six months or so, but Whatever... deserved the attention. Arctic Monkeys is a goofy name for a band, but there was nothing silly about the band's obvious work ethic. They blasted through catchy and powerful guitar pop songs with the precision of expert craftsmen. And frontman Alex Turner was a slick lyricist, filling the Monkey's tunes with great observational wit and humor.

Much of what made the band such a sensation five years ago is still in ample supply in 2011 on their new record, Suck It And See (English vernacular, I'm told, for "try it if you don't believe me," though I'm sure the double entendre is not accidental). Gone is that sharp urgency that seemed to drive the band towards challenging the acceptable bpm velocity for popular music. Instead, the Arctic Monkeys come off as a finely aged, masterful and thoroughly British rock act belong alongside The Kinks, The Smiths and Blur.

Suck it and See is perhaps the band's finest. It combines the muscle of 2009's Humbug with the pop sensibilities of the debut record. Instead of speed, the band relies much more on atmosphere. The needle-sharp guitar rhythms of the debut have been replaced with reverberating arpeggio. Where previous efforts by the band were meant to move, Suck and See is about ambiance.

It's also about Turner's voice, which has mellowed nicely into a come-on croon that's much more bedroom than pub. The wit is the same, though the subject matter has tilted inward. Gone are the cultural observations and in are the contemplations of tough relationships (Hellcat Serenade Shalalala) and depression / ennui (All My Own Stunts). Turner is a better singer, I guess, but he reminds me of Damon Albarn, the Blur frontman who traded in social criticism early on only to become much more personal (and arguably successful). Of course, Turner hasn't lost his sense of humor. Take a listen to "Don't Sit Down Cause I've Moved Your Chair."

In all, the Arctic Monkeys surprisingly sound a bit like a throwback. They're an accomplished rock band that still trade in the pub, garage and lad rock that has fallen out of vogue. Still, it would be a mistake to write off this accomplished set of new songs. They might not have the same quick snap of the debut or even the eff-yeah head-banging rumble of Humbug. Suck It And See is a smart record that needs repeat listens. It's a lot less lager and a lot more Scotch.

Quick review: Givers 'In Light'

noreply@blogger.com (Pete Mazzaccaro) — Wed, 15 Jun 2011 14:29:00 +0000

Lafayette, La. band, Givers

Lafayette, Louisiana is a long way from New York City, but the small city's biggest band right now, Givers, owe a little bit of their world-wise indie pop sound to New York City band's like Vampire Weekend and Dirty Projectors.

But there's nothing necessarily derivative to the sound of the five-piece's debut LP In Light. A little bit experimental and a little bit world music, Givers have managed to record a really enjoyable 10 songs with what's really best described as a big sound.

These guys have maxed out what five musicians can do with multiple vocal parts -- the star being the group's lone female member Tiffany Lamson, who just has a great voice -- and great arrangements that move from springy afro-pop to big fuzzy riffs of guitar and keyboard. Even when they slow the tempo down, the band never sounds small. Actually, In Light is the audio for one really terrific party. This is a band you'd want to hang out with.

I could ponder big questions about what it means for more white kids to borrow so much from afro pop and wonder, again, why young musicians are so darn happy, but Givers make those sorts of intellectual questions feel strained and stupid. This record is just too good. I liked Vampire Weekend and this band is nearly every bit better. The record sounds great. The songs are fun -- there's not a second on the 52-minute record that doesn't belong. And the musicianship is top notch. Givers are playing this kind of music because they can (and it ain't easy, trust me).

So without worrying about where this fits in the culture of pop music right now, I'm going to enthusiastically recommend In Light for essential summer listening. It does everything a great pop record should do. Just get it. It's that good.

For a sample, the band performed the record's first track "Up Up Up" on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon: