KingEd

Minute-by-Minute Review: Get Out of That Mothership and Fight Like a Man!

Posted by KingEd

Nov 062007

KingEd reviews the 43rd digital repackaging of Led Zeppelin’s Greatest Hits…in real time!

Funky dollar bill

The other day I was driving around with my oldest son when Led Zeppelin’s “Good Times, Bad Times” came on the radio. I cranked it up – and then cranked it up further as the solo approached. I tried to square my jaw like Bill Cowher’s and show the boy what it means to be alone, not to care what the neighbors say. Little did I know the song was probably programmed to play at that particular time on that particular Classic Rock station to celebrate the release of the latest 2-CD, remastered, repackaged Greatest Hits collection by these mighty titans of ’70s hard rock, Mothership. This edition was personally sequenced, remastered, and violated by the surviving members of Led Zeppelin. Even the ghost of deceased drummer John Bonham is said to have done his part with a red snapper.

Listen to “Dazed and Confused” and consider just how small Jack White’s well-intentioned dick is in comparison. Oh, John Paul Jones, no wonder Robert Plant is moaning during the psychedelic breakdown! As noble as Plant’s recent collaboration is with bluegrass artist Alison Krauss, this is the sound that gets the kingsnake-a-rattlin’. By the time we get to Jimmy Page’s typically ham-fisted guitar solo, who the hell cares?

As far back as the late ’60s, did the dark arts in which Plant and Page dabbled divine the following decade’s coming punk rock revolution? “Communication Breakdown” would forever haunt stuck up, insecure punks of my generation. No matter how cool we thought we were with our pumping, Ramones-style Barre chords, the mighty Led Zep had been there, done that.

Manliness established, it’s time Page picks some delicate arpeggios on his acoustic while Plant trolls for a maiden or three. “Babe, I’m Gonna Leave You” goes out to the ladies. The delicate pleas of the front men are punctuated by the massive tom fills of John Bonham, rock’s heaviest drummer. Eventually, following one last volley of Page-Plant curlicues, Bonzo inspires the pretty boys to give up the chase and go for the kill. “Baby, baby, baby, baby…” As a teen I was amazed and disgusted by how many times Page could moan “baby” and “woman.” To this day I’m a bit baffled by this practice, but now I’m willing to let it ride.
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Minute-by-Minute Review: I’m Not There

Posted by KingEd

Oct 262007

Updated!

You all know more about this I’m Not There pseudo-bio-flick that Todd Haynes, I believe, has had in the works for a number of years. Buskirk knows everything there is to know about this film, I’d bet. I’ve been looking forward to it. I love Dylan, I love many of Haynes’ films, and I like the concept of having various actors play Dylan at various points in his life: Cate Blanchett, Richard Gere, Tom Arnold, Charles Grodin…

So Phawker drops this soundtrack album on us, and what’s a poor boy to do but blow off an evening with a Minute-by-Minute Review? Why don’t you turn on your love light and listen along with my thoughts as commentary? I’m not there, but if you’re lucky it may seem like I am.

Disc 1

1. “All Along the Watchtower” – Million Dollar Bashers, Eddie Vedder: What’s this, a Ricky Martin song? Oh, here’s Vedder, adding his one-dimensional, well-intentioned yarl to something that sounds as canned as a recent Santana album. Where’s Rob Thomas when you need him to throw down vocals on a backing track like this? Jeez, listen to the hand-cupping-the-ear harmony on the “two riders were approaching…” line, which he then has the bad taste to repeat a few more times with that cheesy harmony. All the while, pointless guitar solos howl, trying in vain to stand out from the mess of horns, Hammond organ, and lord knows what other muck.

2. “I’m Not There” – Sonic Youth: Is it integrity or mediocrity that keeps Sonic Youth sounding like a 1000-run pressing indie rock band on a self-financed label whenever they try to sing a simple song? This might as well be Galaxie 500’s first indie release, or a debut release by any of 50,000 bands that have followed in their wake. And I mean this as a relative compliment.

3. “Goin’ to Acapulco” – Calexico, Jim James: Yeah, the Jimmy Webb arrangement model…so cool, so hip, and so affordable when picking through used record bins. Good background music, but not too inspiring for writing these Minute-by-Minute reviews. Let’s break it up, boys…

4. “Tombstone Blues” – Richie Havens: Eh… All I can think about his how Havens wraps his thumb around the neck.

5. “Ballad of a Thin Man” – Stephen Malkmus, Million Dollar Bashers: Low expectations here. Unless I can let it wash over me, I usually find the original hard to listen to with all my attention. Malkmus can’t get away from the Dylan arrangement and phrasing, and although I like Malkmus, he’s no Dylan. Sorry, folks, I’ve got to hit Skip.

6. “Stuck Inside of Mobile With the Memphis Blues Again” – Cat Power: What’s this, one of those tolerable Natalie Merchant tracks? How many negroes were called into service to make this recording more authentic? What’s the setting for that stock Steve Cropper Tasty Guitar Lick again? Actually, this went from being “enjoyable for a Cat Power recording” to unbearably overblown with the addition of the 7th or 8th layer of stock textures: Memphis horns, Steve Cropper-style guitar, two sets of organ fills, three sets of backing vocal parts… Natalie Merchant showed more restraint. The Blues Brothers showed more restraint.

7. “Pressing On” – John Doe: I’m afraid of what’s coming as I listen to this Jackson Browne-style piano intro. I see…Doe sings well and with passion, and the gospel backing singers give it all they’ve got. As the song builds, however, Doe starts to reach the threshold of Layered Authenticity Gimmicks, don’t you think? I’ll have to give that exact point at which one too many tasty guitar licks or Hammond organ fills is too much, but although I got all I could get out of this song a couple of minutes ago, I’ll press on. OK, finally over.

8. “Fourth Time Around” – Yo La Tengo: These guys, in their mellow Fakebook mode, are masters of the art of staying out of the way of a great song. So with a feint voice and a simple arrangement, they make this song work like a charm. I’m going to shut up and simply get into the music for the next couple of minutes…

9. “Dark Eyes” – Calexico, Iron & Wine: Well, this is a nice change of pace. I sense it’s going to go on much longer than I’d like. Calixico is like The Band of the Urban Outfitters set, no? Let’s move along, boys…

10. “Highway 61 Revisited” – Million Dollar Bashers, Karen O: What is this, Halloween? Why so closely ape the original arrangement and then throw in an occasional “Monster Mash” voice? She and these Million Dollar Bashers, whoever the hell they are, perform this track with all the enthusiasm of a sweet publishing deal and a freshly bought Fake Book. This really sucks. How the mighty have fallen that Dylan once felt the need to shame Donovan on film and now he’s signing off on a crap cover like this?

11. “One More Cup of Coffee” – Calexico, Roger McGuinn: McGuinn’s always struck me as perhaps the first person in rock who needed a wedgie, and this performance confirms that the wedgie is still long overdue. He became religious, or got back to his Christianity, at some point, right? Was that the day he realized he’d achieved what he achieved in The Byrds thanks to not only the grace of God but the stronger supporting voices of his original bandmates? This reminds me, I was in a record store tonight and I was shocked to see a Best of Leo Sayer CD. “Who would have thought that Leo Sayer warrented transfer to CD” I thought to myself, “and who would buy this CD?” I have similar thoughts about those who would purchase a solo Roger McGuinn recording.

12. “Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll” – Mason Jennings: This is fine and performed with taste and a feel for the song. It’s a relief not to hear a track here without the addition of Al Kooper-style noodling, muddy horns, and backing vocals.

13. “Billy 1” – Los Lobos: These guys are real pros in the best sense of the word. This has a great, easy feel, like a well-worn catcher’s mitt, like something Doug Sahm would have done, like something Dylan himself would dig.
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The Mekons, Natural: Mr. Mod’s Favorite Joe Strummer and The Mescaleros Album

Posted by KingEd

Oct 042007

A few weeks back I was drafting a review of the latest release by The Mekons, Natural. You may have heard of this album. It’s their Led Zeppelin III, their back-to-nature, mostly acoustic, British-folk hoedown in which they’re presently touring in support of with stools and slightly exotic folk instruments in tow.

“Dickie, Chalkie and Nobby”

“The Hope and The Anchor”

I had been featuring tracks like the charmingly rickety “Dickie, Chalkie and Nobby” and pretty “The Hope and The Anchor”. I had been trying to describe the rural punk-reggae of “Cockermouth”, thinking this album was an album only The Mekons could pull off. Then I received this note from Mr. Mod, who had caught site of my first draft and had already received a copy of the album in preparation for loading tracks onto the site:
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Bruce Springsteen Works His Magic

Posted by KingEd

Oct 022007

Rock ‘n Roll Iwo Jima

I took a spin with a friend in his vintage 1980 Camaro Z28 — chromewheelfuelinjectedandheadingoutovertheline — the other day with an advance of Magic, The Boss’ new-and-about-to-drop album with the E-Street Band, in the back pocket of my best ripped jeans. “Radio Nowhere”, which sounds too close to Tommy Tutone mining one of Graham Parker’s 3rd-rate music industry rants for comfort, was no great shakes. The next song, “You’ll Be Comin’ Down”, was pretty cool. It’s anthemic but very poppy. I could see my girlfriend digging this one. And then there was The Big Man! Where’s this guy been all these years? What’s The Boss been doing keeping him relegated to tambourine. I got no beef with Patti and Little Steven, but we’re talkin’ The Big Man, Boss. Good to hear him wail again.

~~The Boss, “Livin’ in the Future”~~

And does The Big Man ever wail on “Livin’ in the Future”! “10th Avenue Freeze Out!” I yelled, and my buddy floored it. I like the way The Boss drops the “g” in song titles with gerunds and spells ‘em as he says ‘em. We almost got a speeding ticket for this one. (Which reminds me of that line from The Departed, where Matt Damon gets transferred into plainclothes and offers to help his State Trooper buddy get transferred to plainclothes as well. “You got any other clothes, or do you like coming to work looking like you just invaded Poland,” he says.) I haven’t been listening to The Boss’ albums closely for some time, but I haven’t heard The Big Man step forward and blow his patented scale like this in years. Damn, the song even features that heavy-handed tambourine, the glockenspiel, the Farfisa organ, and a “nah-nah-nah” chorus of Iwo Jima proportions. The Boss may not be healing the nation this time, but it was clear he’s back with a vengeance.

I wish it were still summer, because this album would sound real good at the shore. Man, I’d like to have “Gypsy Biker” playing in my head while I take in the girls on the Boardwalk. The Boss rips off one of those twangy Telecaster solos in this song, you know, the kind that make you wish he’d solo more often, the kind where he sets the body of the guitar on his right thigh, points the neck out to the crowd, then squats and grimaces. Remember when he put out those first two albums without the E-Street Band, when he was married to the soap opera chick and had some chunky guy with a bandana tied around his thigh playing guitar with him? I hated that shit.

I’ve also never warmed up to The Boss in his Hobo of the People mode, which began with Nebraska. I remember reading about that album when it came out and thinking it would be cool to hear The Boss recording his music on a 4-track. Then this same buddy played me the album, and fuck those mumbling, State Trooper/John Steinbeck odes! The Boss, to me, was all about rising above, rallying the troops, partying – but not too hard, no heavy drugs and shit. If a couple of beers won’t do you, you ain’t goin’ nowhere, you know what I mean?

~~The Boss, “Your Own Worst Enemy”~~

“Your Own Worst Enemy” features what I think critics call “plaintive strings.” This is a pretty song, especially so for The Boss. It sounds like something The Jayhawks might have done. (Man, they were a great band that never got their due.) But you know what’s cool about this song? As you’re bopping along, gettin’ horny thinkin’ about your girl, he’s holding a mirror right up to your face! This is The Boss at his best: lulling you into a false sense of security, and then shoving that spoonful of medicine down your throat. You’ll think twice before you vote Republican again!

“Girls in Their Summer Clothes” also features a lighter, prettier sound than we’ve ever heard from The Boss. He’s always had that Phil Spector Wall of Sound going for him, but the wall has never been so detailed and polished. You know what else is cool about this song? The Boss sings really low, but he doesn’t growl or do any of that Woody Guthrie stuff. He almost sounds like that Righteous Brothers guy, you know, the one who would sing in Dirty Dancing. This is the kind of song I could imagine The Boss wanting to record when he was a Jersey kid in high school, listening to his transistor radio, fighting with his Dad at the breakfast table before heading off to school.

“I’ll Work for Love” sounds like the kind of Springsteen song that Steve Earle hears in his head when he’s rocking out in a Boss-like manner. Very catchy. I’m telling you, this album’s going to explode if it can hang on the charts until next summer!

The title track, “Magic”, is the first time he falls into his Hobo voice to any extent, but even this song has some pop polish, like one of the last singles on Born in the USA. It’s not all faux-Dustbowl sounding, if you know what I mean.

“Last to Die” is his fiery anti-war song. For a second I thought an Arcade Fire song accidentally slipped onto the album. The song is about as obvious as The Boss gets, but if it brings the troops home one day sooner, I’m cool with it.

The album mellows out a bit too much for my tastes toward the end, but it’s cool. The Boss even slips into his Fragile Hobo voice on “Devil’s Arcade”, possibly as a shoutout to his young friend, that Bright Eyes guy. Again, there’s a bit of that Arcade Fire majesty to the arrangement. A bonus track called “Terry’s Song” wraps it up in a stripped down manner that would make his age-appropriate buddy, Jackson Browne, proud.

It’s been a long time since I believed in magic, but if The Boss must record another album, this is the album I want to hear. I still believe, man, I still believe.

Hear What I Mean About Ghostface Killah

Posted by KingEd

Jul 172007

I know we’ve got a lot of hip tastemakers wandering through the Halls of Rock, but I’m gonna assume that there aren’t a lot of you who own this Ghostface Killah album, More Fish, that my buddy dropped on me. I don’t say this to brag and to pretend that I have any hip-hop cred, but to introduce four songs from this album that I want you to hear. Check ’em out. The first one begins with a good 2 minutes of X-rated “What’s Going On”-type banter. To save Mr. Moderator the task of crafting another warning, let’s just say these songs are best checked out in seclusion. (And if it starts to get too hot in the kitchen, click on the video, above.)

“Ghost Is Back”
“Miguel Sanchez”
“Good”
“Josephine”

As I wrote earlier, compared with the depressing Young Jeezy and the cynical Nas, this foul-mouthed CD from Killah was a breath of – if not fresh – organically pungent air. All the stuff I objected to in the other CDs – the bitches, the hos, the ice, the F-bombs, the N-grenades – went down relatively easy because the music is so good and the guy’s delivery is so confident, so together. I couldn’t help but think that it’s all about the music, it’s only rock ‘n roll, more or less. If all that socially inappropriate stuff that’s in Killah’s music is a part of the groove, is an integral part of what he’s putting out there, then maybe there’s no point in worrying. Crap is crap or crap can be valued as fertilizer depending on the context.

Body Count: Young Jeezy, Nas, and Ghostface Killah

Posted by KingEd

Jul 162007

Note: The following video is not recommended to be played at work, in an airport, in church, in the presence of children, and possibly in the privacy of your own home. It is presented here to allow you to hear the music of Young Jeezy, one of three hip-hop artists KingEd has become acquainted with over the past months.

A couple of months ago a friend dropped three then-recent hip-hop releases on me: Young Jeezy‘s The Inspiration, Nas‘ Hip Hop Is Dead, and Ghostface Killah‘s More Fish. “I’d like to get your take on this stuff,” he said. “This Young Jeezy guy is all the rage,” he continued, “it’s hardcore gangsta shit. Some of it’s actually scary.”

This would be some listening assignment, I figured. Just the thought of an artist naming himself Ghostface Killah had been bugging me. Isn’t the body count high enough already? But who am I to judge a rapper by his handle? I spent a few days spinning these CDs as I drove around, and here are my impressions.

Young Jeezy really is nasty. The fist song, “Hypnotize (Intro)”, drops 18 N-bombs. Coupled with the fact that the guy can’t pronounce his own lead-off song title (he repeatedly says “hypmotize”), I’m pretty clear this album will not offer much in the way of critical thought. (Thanks for that helpful, parenthetical hint in the title, by the way.) However, Young Jeezy offers much in the way of unself-conscious social criticism. “Still On It” drops a mere total of 11 N-bombs after a stunning half dozen in the song’s opening seconds. Track 3, “U Know What It Is” gets back on pace with 18 instances of self-hatred. And on and on. Contrary to the album’s title, The Inspiration is the most depressing and vacant music I’ve ever heard. Throw in a cynical mix of canned pop hooks for bad measure.
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Minute-by-Minute Review: Interpol, Our Love to Admire

Posted by KingEd

Jul 102007

If you stream over to Phawker.com you can check out the new Interpol CD, Our Love to Admire. I’m about to do that myself, and while I’m there, I’ll post a minute-by-minute live review…from the gut! Let’s log in, kick back, and see what this year’s ambition-driven variations on the Joy Division sound bring.

The album begins with the mournful “Pioneer Falls”, which has an Echo and the Bunnymen via The Doors sound. The song is kind of pretty, and it would be a lot prettier if I were a 17-year-old girl looking to escape my middle-class, small-town, relative hell. As it is, I think I’ll let the gray show in my rapidly thinning hair.

“No I in Threesome” makes a bid for the basis of the next James Toback film and picks up the pace a bit, with a pounding piano and drum beat. This is the scene when I come back to my empty dorm room, throw myself onto the bed, and let the eyeliner run down my cheek.

As “Scale” kicks in, I’m wishing this band really would begin sounding like Joy Division already. There’s a lot of stentorian self-analyses going on, but it’s more of the goth power ballad variety than the throbbing, grating soundtrack of Ian Curtis’ life. More power to these guys for staying alive, don’t get me wrong, but so far I’m bored.

Here’s an upbeat number, “Heinrich Maneuver”! It’s got all those angular guitars and syncopated beats, just right for adjusting that lock of hair to just the right angle across your forehead. I’m gonna call up my friends and see what’s doing! Ooh, there’s a dead stop right before the chorus comes back in. I haven’t heard such joyous gloom since Psychedelic Furs‘ “Love My Way”.

“Mammoth” opens with a vaguely threatening, slightly sexual four-on-the-floor beat and repeated chants of “spare me the suspense.” [Cut to the “bad boy” my innocent freshman character is about to meet up with.] If you don’t mind, I’m going to drop the narrative for a minute and simply enjoy the relative abandon of this song. Nice.
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