Album Reviews

like the title says, these are album reviews

Mudhoney – My Brother the Cow: mmm mmmm angst

Mudhoney’s My Brother the Cow, I think, is a fitting bookend to the “grunge” era. And though I didn’t get into Mudhoney until the waning days of the movement, in retrospect it seems as though it was the most quintessentially grunge of all the big bands to come out of Seattle during that time. Nirvana was more pop friendly; Pearl Jam leaned toward hard rock; Alice in Chains and Soundgarden were imbued with a metal sensibility; but Mudhoney was the band the best encapsilated the grunge ethos.

My Brother the Cow was released at a time when the music world was leaving grunge behind. It was spring of 1995 and Cobain had been dead for a year. Post-grunge acts such as Better Than Ezra and Live were bringing a kinder, gentle form of rock to the masses.

But Mudhoney continued doing its own thing and produced this great album. I remember waiting especially eagerly for this record to come out.

In January of that year, I obtained a recording of "self pollution radio," a sprawling 4 hour radio show hosted by Eddie Vedder and friends. They had gotten together to spin some records and engage in intelligent conversation.

Those tapes three ninety minute maxells became my musical divining rod for nearly 2 years. The first song played was Sonic Youth’s Teenage Riot and I was instantly transformed from casually interested in the band to hardcore fan. As the set progressed, I was introduced to forms of music both new and strange.

I heard songs months, and in some cases, years before they were officially released, including some Dave Grohl demo songs that would eventually be released as Foo Fighters.

The best part of the tapes, however, were the live sessions. Besides all the vinyl spinning, Eddie and company had arranged for a bunch of their friends to play a handful of songs in a make-shift studio.

Pearl Jam itself put in 2 sets with mostly material from Vitalogy.
Soundgarden put in a set, delivering Kyle Petty, Son of Richard and No Attention, both of which sound better on this performance than the studio versions released 2 years later.
Mad Season was there too and their performance inspired me buy their album when it was released a couple months later.

Which brings me back to Mudhoney, whose performance really kinda blew me away. I hadn’t given the band much attention beyond their song on the seminal Singles soundtrack. but by the time the strutting bass line of What Moves the Heart had finished, I knew that I had to add this band to my collection.

I picked up Piece of Cake shortly thereafter and waited a couple months for My Brother the Cow. When I finally received it, I deemed it awesome and it quickly made its way into my frequent rotation. The music was great, but the thing that made it characteristically Mudhoney was the prankish sense of humor. My favorite part of the record was waiting for the last song to drain away to nothing, then come roaring back as the album started to play itself backward.

But just as this record seems to be the last defiant gasp of grunge, it was also Mudhoney’s last hurrah for me. I listened to them vigorously for a couple years, but by the time the group’s next album, Tomorrow Hit Today, was released in 1998 I had largely forgotten about them. But listening to My Brother the Cow again reminds me why I liked them so much in the first place.

Sonic Youth – Rather Ripped

I picked up the latest Sonic youth recently but hadn’t gotten around to listening to it until this evening. Because of my tunequest rule of “no repeats,” I won’t be able hear it again until the next year or I complete the project, whichever comes first. It’s safe to say that when I pass either of those milestones, I’ll be itching to hear it again, along with the handful of other new releases/acquisitions for the year.

If I had to come up with one word to describe Rather Ripped, it would have to be "effortless." At this point in their carreers, Sonic Youth can waltz into their studio and produce this stuff in their sleep.

sleep-waltzing, i like it

The one thing that struck me on this first and only play-through was how much cleaner, unified and melodious, as well as harmonious, the band sounds. There’s nary a trace of their trademark fuzz, noise and distortion. I like that too.

suburbia: shaken, not stirred

suburban shakedown

in 2001, suburban shakedown was a band of teenagers who had a band, the way a lot of teenagers do. unlike a lot of teenage bands (mine included), they didn’t suck too much. and rather than follow the conventional rock/country/hip-hop mode of amateur musicianship that is prevalent in the ambitious teenage set, this band of minstrels went for something more unusual. no, not techno or anything involving a computer. and no, nothing classical or in any way avant garde.

no, this group was a jam band, a kind of phish-lite.

i saw these guys a couple times in pensacola throughout 2001 and they were enjoyable. not great, but enjoyable. their album from the time, measuring peace, is the same way: competent grooves and pleasant riffs that are clean cut and inoffensive, but it takes an especially audacious form of young ruffian to write and perform songs about weed at all-ages shows where other teenagers and their parents are sure show up.

on a personal note, the members of suburban shakedown, at the time, were attending the same international baccalaureate program I had attended a few years before. i didn’t know any of the guys, but it was simply amazing how every one of them was a slightly younger and slightly distorted version of someone i had known.

Nobukazu Takemura – Hoshi no Koe: glitches

The note at the top of the page says that the site layout is currently broken in firefox. It turns out that I royally screwed something up while trying to "Improve" Things around here. As a result, I’ll have to recode the site structure and css from scratch. Until then, sorry firefox users. I commend you for your independent spirit, but for now you’ll have to scroll to the bottom of the page to see the sidebars.

However, that’s not the only type of glitch in these parts lately. I ran across Nobukazu Takemura’s hoshi no koe the other day. Takemura is a guy I was first introduced to in new orleans 5 years ago in june 2001. He was opening for Tortoise and Mouse on Mars at the howlin’ wolf. (by the way, best concert ever. it’s not often you get to see a band at the height of your fandom for them.)

It was my first exposure to both the glitch genre of music and the concept of a ‘laptop performance.’ For 30+ minutes this Japanese guy with a long pony tail sat calmly behind a table, meticulously twisting dials, pushing buttons and manipulating his powerbook, creating a perfect, swirling mess of sounds… And I was mesmerized by it. By the time he was half way through Sign and those dueling artificial voices had finished their seemingly-never-ending chant, I was hooked.

I bought Hoshi no Koe that night after the show and quickly launched an effort to acquire as much Takemura as I could. It was a foolish endeavor; The dude is as prolific as he is obscure (not to mention foreign) and I had a hard enough time tracking down a full discography, let alone much of his music.

Eventually, I gave up on that particular tunequest as it proved nearly impossible. Besides, the thing I came to slowly realize about Takemura’s music is that it’s very dichotomic. It’s either so brilliantly clever that you want to shout "Oh my god, that’s awesome!" Or it’s completely and totally unlistenably abstract, the type of compositions that certain people who want to prove their intellectual mettle listen to. A similar phenomenon occurs throughout the genre. However, lesser composers than Takemura lean distinctively toward the latter opinion.

In the end, despite the short burst of passion, my affair with glitch was short-lived. As I’ve mellowed with age, I’m not as likely to indulge in the less listenable as I find that my musical tastes are for my own enjoyment and not to impress the kids with some kind of street cred.

But Takemura, the man is still fascinating.

James Horner – Enemy at the Gates: Hacktackular

James Horner is a hack.

That’s my opinion. Some people think he’s a good or even great composer. I don’t. I happen think he has precisely 1.5 Good scores to his credit, namely Star Trek 2 and 3. Those two score, I also happen to think, are among the finest score of the late 20th century, with an asterisk. (the asterisk being that the highlights of each are highly derivative of Prokofiev).

I mention it because I listened to Horner’s score for the 2001 film Enemy at the Gates today and was once again frustrated by the music. Despite my accusation above, Horner can be a talented composer, I just think he’s fond of shortcuts that lower the quality of the final product. For example, this Enemy at the Gates score opens with the type of epic 15+ minute suite The River Crossing to Stalingrad that I am quite fond of. It effectively incorporates an all-male chorus and evokes the same Slavic character that I enjoy in Dvorak’s and Tchaikovsky’s work. Additionally, there are some really nice melodic passages throughout the score.

But…

And this is a deal-breaker, horner re-guritates the same "Menace" Motif that he originally wrote for StarTrek 2 (1982) and already recycled at least once for Aliens (1986). And this motif is everywhere in the score, ruining what might have been compelling music.

It’s not the motif’s fault really. It’s actually a simple and effective couple of bars of music. But in my mind, it is far too overused and too closely related to Khan for it to work anywhere else. So I may hang on the opening suite, but the rest of this score will be departing my library.

Martin Denny – Exotic Moog: Cold and Sexy

martin denny - exotic moog

As promised, I dug up the column I once wrote about the legendary Martin Denny's infamous (and highly collectable) Exotic Moog record (1969).

It wasn’t until after I wrote this that I learned that Denny didn’t actually play any of the music on the record. In a 1997 interview with Cool and Strange Music Magazine, he revealed that Liberty, his record label, took control of the project and had ghost musicians perform and produce the whole thing. That part of the interview was not published until after Denny’s death in 2005.

That might explain the record’s apparent lack of focus. I must say though, that to this day, it really is a fascinating listen, despite the somewhat negative tone of my original review. Parts of it are worth keeping, like A Taste of Honey, for example:

[audio:060525ATasteofHoney.mp3]

History is full of ambitious ideas that promise abundant pay-off. Yet when executed, they somehow fall short, despite the talent involved. Such as when classical orchestras try to play rock songs or western nations try to invade Russia.

Likewise, having Martin Denny put together a record using the Moog as the primary instrument would seem to be ingenious, promising an otherworldly spin on exotic music.

But there lies the problem. The record relies too much on the Moog as a musical force. This record is more an homage to technological advancement, rather than inspired musical arrangement. Even the liner notes focus on the progress of then-modern recording equipment.

The result comes off as a grand curiosity, not the phenomenon it should be.

Not that combining electronics with exotica creates an automatic disparity. It’s just the opposite. The foreign sounds capable of being formed by the synthesizer are perfectly suited to the mind set of most mid-20th century exotic composers and by 1970, the earthly exotic realms had been exhaustively examined by exotica’s masters.

On the heels of the moon landing, it was natural to want to investigate an extraterrestrial musicscape. Still experimental, the Moog had recently come into being. Finally, there was an opportunity to explore the music of the future.

I, for one, am glad that is not what the future became. While Exotic Moog is intriguing to listen to, the over-emphasis of the Moog leaves it sounding largely hollow and stale. The exceptions are the couple of songs where another live instrument is brought to the forefront.

Les Baxter’s Quiet Village (which in its original version was Denny’s first hit in 1957) is utterly butchered under the whine and groan of the Moog. On the other hand, A Taste of Honey never sounded so sweet. The Enchanted Sea drifts with ominous enchantment and Midnight Cowboy is a moving reinterpretation of John Barry's classic theme.

The hits are few and far between, but they land right on the mark.

Despite the overall substandard musical quality, this record is worth picking up for its standout songs and for its cultural and historical significance. But be warned, it is long out of print and extremely rare (and is something of a holy grail for Denny collectors).

Your best bets are used record stores or online dealers such as Hip Wax or eBay. A limited CD version combined with Les Baxter’s “Moog Rock” may be available from those same sources. Snatch one up if you see it.

Louis and Bebe Barron – Forbidden Planet: Retro Space Tripping

Forbidden Planet is a fantastic film and is available on iTunes.

So I recently listened to Louis and Bebe Barron’s avant garde and experimental score to the 1956 sci-fi classic Forbidden Planet. This soundtrack was one of the handful of Records That Time Forgot columns that I wrote in a previous life. I reprint it here for your reading enjoyment.

In 1956, science fiction as we know it scarcely existed as a genre. Adventures in space were mostly centered around action and heroics rather than depth, plot or characters. That changed with “Forbidden Planet,” which despite its fantastic setting, gave some credit to the intelligence of its audience. So influential was this film, that programs from “Star Trek” and “Star Wars” to “2001” (and all that has followed them) are in its debt.

Adapted from Shakespeare’s “The Tempest,” the story concerns Commander John J. Adams’ (Leslie Nielsen) rescue of a doomed colonization vessel bound for Altair-4. He arrives on the planet to find two lone survivors, Dr. Morbius and his daughter, who have mysteriously built a paradise on a barren rock.

It turns out that an ancient powerful race had mastered “mind-over-matter” technology, allowing thoughts to become reality, and Morbius has mastered it as well. Or so he thought. He hadn’t counted on a striking young Commander making his daughter’s acquaintance. Induced by jealousy, the doctor’s uncontrollable id creates an indomitable monster that threatens to destroy them all.

Created by husband-and-wife team Louis and Bebe Barron, the score to "Forbidden Planet" is less music and more sculpted noise, appropriately and perfectly crafted to fit the alien landscape presented in the film. Composed completely by electronic means (using many circuits created by the duo specifically for this project), this soundtrack consists of wails and groans interspersed with beeps, boops, and wobbles, as if a washing machine and a 1950’s flying saucer had a shotgun wedding in Vegas and produced some sort of bastard child.

Forbidden Planet’s “music” goes beyond the traditional role of underscoring the film’s action on screen, creating a sub text for character motivations and off-screen actions. Standing in for the long-dead ancient race, the soundscape becomes a character itself, giving a voice to the beings who live on through their machines, while constantly reminding the viewer of the complete otherworldliness of the situation.

The lack of traditional styling, instrumentation, and structure make the album difficult to listen to, but those same qualities make it perfect to put on and not listen to. In proper settings and situations, the effects produced can become peaceful and serene background noise. Dwell on it too long though, or listen to it in the dark, and the intended creepiness and disturbing inhumanity can summon dark nightmares, providing them with a soundtrack for a total freak-out.

It is fitting that a film that proved to be ground breaking has a soundtrack that is equally so. The experimentation shown here was a great success, especially in regards to modern electronic music, which might not exist had it not been for these pioneers.