The best…

Articles like this bother me to no end. Well, this one less than others, but still…

There’s something that smacks of wrong about presenting lists of “greatest” things about art of any kind.  Favorite, maybe, but without proper qualification or explanation, there’s no real rationale behind the idea.

Some people make lists that are positively laughable, obviously nothing more than preference or personal taste.  Which isn’t necessarily a problem, until a high-profile publication like Rolling Stone promotes that list — and when you have the backing of a logo that stands for pop culture and music, you have instant credibility that you haven’t necessarily earned or deserved.

I think one of my biggest issues is that these lists are written by fans or critics or writers, with bias but no knowledge of what they are writing about, whether it’s best instrumentalist, best film, best painting, or whatever.  It’s a given, understood that my listening tastes are going to come into play if I compose a best-of list.  Not necessarily known might be the added weight of my twenty-five years of playing guitar, an understanding of the instrument and the underlying difficulties of mastering it.

Sure, there are some critics who have an inherent, almost prodigious understanding of their subject matter.  Roger Ebert and films comes to mind, or perhaps David Fricke at Rolling Stone, perhaps. But maybe not.  Is there any way of knowing, for sure? If the American Film Institute  tells me that there are 100 classic films I should see because they are the best, I assume that the committee that put that list together is probably composed of people with expertise and understanding.

Maybe it’s just part of my genetic make-up, but semantics are a huge issue for me.

All this being said (he typed with a smirk), my own list of the ten greatest guitarists:

10. Mikael Akerfeldt (Opeth) (see Porcupine Tree’s ARRIVING SOMEWHERE BUT NOT HERE)
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4PqG6uoJyyw]
9. Michael Hedges
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TgKB8zG5qP0]
8. Albert Lee
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v-T6Dp2UAZo]
7. Christopher Parkening
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MwjlHMjgqNk]
6. B. B. King
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-sMWTqUuSh4]
5. Joe Satriani
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zzQb79IhoRE]
4. Edward Van Halen
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z_lwocmL9dQ]
3. Jeff Beck
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mIFFRHBCPzA]
2. Jimi Hendrix
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wCQBbgb_Lvo]
1. Steve Vai
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6CfEaSmdtGU]

Take it for what you will.  That was composed considering technique and mastery over the instrument, feel and passion behind the playing, innovation in the respective genre or over the instrument, creativity, and of course my own preferences and experiences.

Cover Me Badd

(Thanks to Butch Walker for that title — you really owe it to yourself to check it out, or any of his original material for that matter.)

Music is a unique form of art, in the realm of tribute and homage.  To my mind, there aren’t any remakes of books, sculptures, or paintings (I’m sure that there are a few, but nothing notable?  Correct me if I’m wrong).  TV and movies — especially lately — count a number of remakes in their fields, but they aren’t necessarily reinterpretations, but rather thinly-veiled cash grabs.

Music, though — there are countless cover songs.  Some good, some bad.  There are note for note covers that are almost indistiguishable from the originals, and there are some that are only connected thematically.  I would even argue that some covers far surpass the originals (though I’ve been given grief  by some – notably, songwriting musicians – for suggesting such).

There are some songs that are fun to play, for musicians like me.  There are some songs that are so inspiring and moving that we musicians want to pay tribute to the song by recording it ourselves.  And some songs are so wonderful at their base, but lacking somehow in the recording or preformance, that a musician will make an attempt at bringing their own (better?) vision of the song to life.

If you’ve never given cover versions a chance, I recommend hitting YouTube or last.fm and checking out some of the many versions that exist.  Start with the following (and make sure to listen to the original, for comparison’s sake):

  • Butch Walker – Since You’ve Been Gone (originally by Kelly Clarkson)
  • Marvelous Three – Reelin’ In The Years (originally by Steely Dan)
  • Aimee Mann – Nobody Does It Better (originally by Carly Simon)
  • Metallica – Am I Evil? (originally by Diamond Head)
  • Between the Buried and Me – Bicycle Race (originally by Queen)
  • Frost* – Here is the News (originally by ELO)
  • Deftones – Drive (originally by The Cars)
  • Reel Big Fish – Take On Me (originally by A-Ha)

Perhaps you see it as blasphemy, or maybe it’s selective (i.e., as long as it’s not your favorite band that is being butchered).  Some bands have made a career out of out nothing but performing other people’s material, and some people refuse to ever touch someone else’s song.  I think the latter — at least, the attitude that underlies that school of thinking — prevents you from enjoying a wealth of great music, though.

A Blanket of Sorrow

I taste your sorrow and you taste my pain
Drawn to each other for every stain
Licking the layers of soot from your skin
Your tears work my crust to let yourself in

[Pain of Salvation, ASHES]

There’s something soothing, comforting, about sad music when you’re feeling down.  Safe, even.

Some people I know will listen to upbeat and happy music when they’re sad.  It’s a way of countering the darkness, of pushing back against whatever bothers them.

I sometimes will do the same, or instead listen to something heavy and angry, convert the depression to a rage instead, something that will burn brighter and faster and extinguish itself more quickly.  It’s a strange light to shine into the dark corners, but the shadows are chased away nonetheless.

Mostly, though, I turn to sad songs.  Maybe it’s the familiarity, or knowing that I’m not alone with the thoughts that race through my head. If these songs are out there, then someone, somewhere, felt these things enough to commit them to tape, and that’s enough to carry me through another cold night.

It’s not a common thing, I think, judging from what others have told me.  But it’s the way that works for me, sometimes. Whether I’m missing someone who has passed from my life, or life has thrown me too many curveballs for one day, or I’m just having one of those days, I try to keep a few darker pieces at my listening ready. In the cold rain, even a blanket of sorrow can provide warmth and protection from the elements.

Concert Review: Muse @ Sommet Center, Nashville, 15.March.2010

Melisa and I have been hitting concerts like there’s no tomorrow lately — on average, we’ve probably been seeing two-three a month,  and I’m pretty sure that if one of us had access to the Fountain of Neverending Wealth (I think I read about that in a Terry Pratchett novel, once), that number would increase greatly.

A good percentage of the shows are in Melisa’s ballpark, not mine, and so I’m going in blind to a lot of the material.  Not so with Muse, though — while I was late to discover them (not surprising, given the state of the Birmingham music scene, but surprising given the similarity to so much of what else I listen to and have discovered online, etc.), I’m a huge fan of their stuff.  Their music makes me think of the perfect cross between Queen, Radiohead, and a Broadway musical about laser guns and robots and over-the-top villains bent on destroying the universe.

This was the first show I’ve seen at the Sommet Center in Nashville — nothing too much to say about the place, good or bad. It’s a very typical arena/stadium with decent acoustics, miles upon miles of overpriced concessions and horribly cramped and uncomfortable seating.

The Silversun Pickups opened — another band with whose material I’m not terribly familiar.  There were a few things they did live that piqued my interest, although the sound mix was abysmal – I’ll even go so far as to say unforgivable.  I’m not sure if there were technical difficulties, or if the engineers were simply unemployably incompetent, but it wasn’t until the last half of the last song that it was even listenable, and even then I think only compared to the previous thirty minutes.  It was bad enough that I was genuinely concerned for the rest of the night’s outlook.

Fortuantely, whatever went wrong for the openers was corrected — from the prelude instrumental theme to the last note, it was everything you could expect or hope from a stadium show of hard rock.  The volume was loud but not overwhelming, and each instrument was audible in the mix (at least, considering the volume).

There was a really nice mix of material over the two hour set — leaning most heavily on the last disc, but with quite a good variety of old and newer material.  The visuals were impressive — not just reliant on lights and pyrotechnics, but also utilizing a series of three elevating platforms and video columns, showing both closeups of the band and abstract visualizations.  It was different and unique, reminiscent of U2’s ACHTUNG, BABY tour — and definitely provided a sensory feast for the evening.

Like every fan of a band with a decently-sized batch of material, there were songs I was disappointed not to hear — FALLING AWAY WITH YOU, ENDLESSLY, MAP OF THE PROBLEMATIQUE.  Worst of all was the brief tease of TAKE A BOW — a song I was incredibly excited to hear, but alas the intro (on piano, no less) was all we got.  Nonetheless, a phenomenal concert and show — anyone getting the chance to see Muse live is depriving themselves if they skip out on the opportunity.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tEgiU7wLIdc&feature=related]

SETLIST:

  1. Uprising
  2. Resistance
  3. New Born
  4. Supermassive Black Hole
  5. MK Ultra
  6. Interlude
  7. Hysteria w/ “Back In Black” outro
  8. Nishe
  9. United States Of Eurasia
  10. Feeling Good (Leslie Bricusse & Anthony Newley cover)
  11. Helsinki Jam
  12. Undisclosed Desires
  13. Starlight
  14. Unnatural Selection
  15. Time Is Running Out
  16. Plug In Baby

Encore:

  1. Exogenesis: Symphony, Part 1: Overture
  2. Stockholm Syndrome
  3. Knights of Cydonia

The Magic of the Mixtape

Should I bolt every time I get that feeling in my gut when I meet someone new? Well, I’ve been listening to my gut since I was 14 years old, and frankly speaking, I’ve come to the conclusion that my guts have shit for brains.

I’ve never read Nick Hornby’s book. I should, I know — seeing the movie (no matter how great it is, with John Cusack and all) isn’t the same.

But a lot of people in my circle of friends get it.  Maybe we couldn’t have written the book, but we’ve made our fair share of mix tapes – or CDs, or playlists, or 8tracks. We get older, the technology gets newer, and the story stays the same.

I’ve made hundreds of mixes in my time, to be played in certain seasons, to remind me of certain seasons. For movies that have been scripted, for movies that haven’t even been plotted yet, for those times when I want to make up my own movies on the fly.  To absent friends, to present friends, and even to enemies.

I’ve heard more and more artists complaining about the iPod, and the fact that you can set your album or artist or entire collection to shuffle, and you don’t get the beauty of listening to an album, straight through, as the artist intended.  If that’s the case, why not release your music as 70 minute song cycles, with no track break?  But even if you do — we’ll still figure out a way to break out the five minute chunk that we want, because it would bridge Pink Floyd’s “Breathe” and “Lady Helen” by Devin Townsend perfectly.

These songs, these lyrics — for many of us, there is a soundtrack to life.  It’s nice to be able to preserve that, when we choose, or to craft an alternate to inspire or escape.

Concert Review: Wilco @ The Fabulous Fox Theatre, Atlanta 26.March.2010

Ever since I started dating Melisa,  I’ve been opening my head up to trying a lot of new things.  I’m not normally considered very adventurous, as I understand it — and fair enough.  I like what I like, and no need to try new things if what I like is available.  New foods, new hobbies– it’s really a new way of looking at life.

And so when we went to see Wilco, a band with which I’m not terribly familiar, I broke my usual habit of familiarizing myself with the music pre-show.  Normally, I’ll spend some time on YouTube or with a borrowed CD, at least preparing myself for what I’ll be hearing if not trying to find a few songs that  I can anticipate.  Not this time — I went in with the sparse bit of knowledge I’ve picked up from Melisa’s iPod and covering two of their songs with the Exhibit(s).

From what I could tell from Wilco fans, it was an awesome show.  The performance was impressive — each member is very talented, and they all had an amazing amount of energy, especially given that they played a 3 hours set with no break (excluding the now-mandatory pre-encore five minutes).  One hour can be a long time on stage — three is amazing.  There was a nice mixture of uptempo tunes with slower, mellower numbers, which kept the pacing nice and moved the show along.

The mix was terrible, I’ve heard from some folks who were on the floor level (we were on the front part of the balcony, just right of center — excellent seats except for the two teeny-boppers in front of us who insisted on dancing for 2/3 of the show, thus forcing us to stand or sit with an obstructed view).  I thought, mix-wise, it was fine — everything was clear and distinct. Except, of course, when it was a wall of sound…

Maybe I’m old; maybe I wasn’t prepared, as Melisa tells me that Wilco often break into sections of clamorous noise in the middle of songs, before returning to a more structured arrangement.  That’s fine — next time, I know to bring earphones.  But honest-to-god: I’ve been to over a thousand shows in my life, played hundreds, and I have only one other time ever been in a situation that was physically painful to my ears.  Melisa didn’t seem to notice, so perhaps it was just me and my ears, but there were moments when the physical volume and the cacophony of timbres and pitches was overwhelming.  Perhaps the sound guy is to blame; perhaps it was a by-product of being in a theater, as opposed to outdoors or a deeper, less-confined room; maybe I’m just a pussy.  Fine.

I would definitely like to have another chance to see Wilco, but with more preparation on my part. I need to have more connection to the music I’m seeing, at least when its outside of my usual fare. I definitely need some way to bring the decibel count down about 15-20db…

UPDATE: via Scents and Subtle Sounds, the setlist from the evening:

Set: Wilco (The Song), I Am Trying to Break Your Heart, Bull Black Nova, You Are My Face, One Wing, A Shot in the Arm, Side with the Seeds, Deeper Down, Nothing’severgonnastandinmyway(again), Wishful Thinking, Impossible Germany, California Stars, Poor Place, Spiders (Kidsmoke)*, Far, Far Away*, You and I*, Laminated Cat*, War on War, Hesitating Beauty*&, Casino Queen*, Passenger Side*, Airline to Heaven, Via Chicago, Handshake Drugs, You Never Know, Heavy Metal Drummer, Can’t Stand It, Jesus, Etc., Theologians, Hate It Here, Walken, I’m the Man Who Loves You, I’m a Wheel

Encore: Thank You, Friends^

* Acoustic, *& John on stand up bass, ^ Big Star Cover

Dried up roses scattered on the mound / Honouring the one engraved

There’s a magic quality about music, that it possesses the ability to carry one to another time or place or state of mind, completely and without warning.  It reminds me of the connection between the sense of smell and memory, only perhaps more powerful for some.

I sat today bemoaning (quietly, of course, because this sort of thought gets you branded as a heretic in the southeastern US) the imminent arrival of spring, the eventual farewell to the cool temperatures that I spend 60% of my year craving and dreaming about. It was a gorgeous day — the occasional lazy, fluffy white cloud punctuated the bright blue March sky, a light breeze breaking up the monotonous air here and there — but already it’s too hot for me.  And immediately I was missing the winter that we never really got (I think I wore my “heavy” coat for a total of ten days this season), and readying myself for the next one, like a cubicle ant on Monday morning praying for the weekend.

It must have been this line of thinking that pushed me to line up Opeth’s BLACKWATER PARK into my iTunes. It’s a disc that I haven’t listened to in a few years (although their last album, WATERSHED, has an inordinate amount of playtime, according to my iPod), and I’m wondering why. The entire album — both the quiet, acoustic sections and the heavier epic-sounding riffs — is permeated with autumn, or perhaps winter, evoking visions of snow and barren plains, misty breath, coats and that stillness that comes only in the depth of January.  It’s evident on their albums since, but none moreso than BLACKWATER PARK.

And I wonder how much of that is a memory association of my own, based on my listening patterns; how much is my knowledge of Opeth (i.e., their Swedish origins); and how much is based in the music itself. There is some music that I will forever associate with winter, some with summer and the beach, some with autumn; some day, some night.  And I’m certain that there’s some level of my own personality or experience in there, but I’m also convinced that some of that quality resides in the music itself.

On some level, too, I’m not concerned with the why, because for now and for the next six months, I can count on Opeth and others to help get me through the god-awful oppressive summer heat.

MUSIC: The best of 2009

(This article was originally supposed to appear in the 2010-opening issue of Birmingham Weekly.  It did not.  Perhaps it will eventually pop up there, but in the meantime, you can read it here.  Do so… now:)

Mastodon “Crack the Skye” – It’s the year that Mastodon reached out to the overlooked and underappreciated Trustifarian metal heads.  A friend remarked at their tour kick-off at Workplay in the spring that Mastodon had become “Widespread Sabbath”.  And maybe they have, but goddamned if these aren’t the scariest, most brutal hippies ever.  Blenderize old-school Metallica, Black Sabbath, Pink Floyd, a conceptual thread inspired by Bill Burroughs and a sheet of blotter acid, and two bottles of Absinthe, and you’ve got a hangover made just me.

Hey, Charlie Manson might really dig this disc, now that I think about it.  Maybe Phil Spector can pass him a copy?

Bigelf “Cheat the Gallows” – I’ve heard people categorize Marilyn Manson and Rob Zombie as horror rock, but I think of both of them as more slasher-metal.  Really, is Jason Voorhees that scary? Bigelf, though – man, there’s something really creepy lurking underneath the surface of this whole disc.  Yeah, it sounds very retro, sort of Alice Cooper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band and the Floyds From Mars, but then you start picturing the three-ring circus, and the tent, and the clowns… Yeah, lots of clowns, but not the happy ones.  More like that goddamned doll from Poltergeist. And John Wayne Gacy.  And Willie Whistles. Ever been ear-raped by a clown?  Yeah.  That’s it. (Note: This apparently came out in August, but I live in Birmingham, AL, where nothing happens when it’s supposed to.  Therefore, it counts. For me.)

Swallow the Sun “New Moon” – In a better world, the sequel to TWILIGHT would have been written by 1970s Wes Craven and directed by Eli Roth.  It would have been filled with torture and buckets of blood — not red syrup, but actual blood.  The entire soundtrack would have been replaced with the latest release from Finnish doom metal band Swallow The Sun.  It would have been AWESOME.  And teenage girls everywhere would be traumatized for life.

Ah, to spend a day in my fantasy world…

Muse “The Resistance” – Does Matthew Bellamy have a Thom Yorke fixation?  Does Muse want too badly to be Queen? Are positive answers to the previous two questions bad things?  Really, imagine it: Paul Rodgers stuck with making Muddy Waters tribute albums, and so Brian May and company invited Yorke to spend six months away from Radiohead to work on a new album. How wonderful would that be?  The correct answer: “The Resistance.”

Animals as Leaders “Animals as Leaders” – I wouldn’t normally list an all-instrumental guitar record on a year-end list, but there’s something so phenomenal and out of this world about Tosin Abasi’s debut that not including it is a musical injustice on par with Jethro Tull’s 1989 Grammy win.  Sometimes I want to compare his writing and playing to Miles Davis, but that’s only because both are so far beyond my ken that it’s pathetic.  Other times, I compare it to putting Mentos and bleach into a mixture of Diet Coke and ammonia.

3 “Revisions” – You know how critics are always all like, “These guys are an overnight success!” And then the bands are all like, “Nuh-unh! We worked for, like a month on this!” New York’s 3 are not at all that band; in fact, they had three discs released indepently before scoring a national distribution deal.  REVISIONS is a nice little project of re-recorded reboots from those first three discs and some bootlegs, cleaned and tightened for a modern day.  These are tight pop songs, not as adventurous as their last two more progressive efforts, really showcasing Joey Eppert’s songwriting and arranging abilities. It’s a great introduction to the band, as well as being something that fans of other bands may find themselves wishing for – another, more polished listen to songs that deserve a wider audience.

Them Crooked Vultures – This is like the best tribute album you could ever imagine.  It’s Zep, but it’s not.  And it’s not a Queens of the Stone Age disc, but it kinda is.  If you know both bands, and picture smashing them together so violently that neither one ever existed, then this is the album you got stoned to every day after class in high school. I expected Grohl to be more prominent, until I realized that if ever John Bonham had a natural successor it was the guy who played drums on Queens of the Stone Age’s SONGS FOR THE DEAF. In all honesty, this disc made me ask for a Karmann Ghia for Christmas.

Andrew Bird “Noble Beast” – My girlfriend couldn’t make Bird’s show at Workplay earlier this year, and so passed on her ticket to me. I was, to drastically sell the moment short, blown away, so I borrowed her iPod and now refuse to give it back. Among all the indie, alt-kewl stuff I’m finding there, Andrew Bird’s is probably the most cinematic, like watching someone paint with sound.  It’s captivating, provocative, and best of all, happy.

I still though, for the record, hate hipster audiences.

Porcupine Tree “The Incident” – There’s this idea that progressive rock has to be pompous and effete, that concept albums are for stoners and armchair philosophers. But remember TOMMY? Or THE WALL? Both are concept albums, progressive in their own right, that have a number of brilliant and classic songs that stand alone (Pinball Wizard and Comfortably Numb, respectively). Add THE INCIDENT, a fourteen track “song cycle” about “beginnings and endings and the sense that ‘after this, things will never be the same again’”.  It’s a seamless, beautiful  but demanding project filled with dynamics and explorations both comfortable and challenging.

Devin Townsend Project “Ki” / “Addicted” – Look, folks. Off and on, since 2000 (holy crap, Glenny – 10 years!), I’ve been writing these little capsule reviews of albums that I love and hate.  I try to focus on the stuff I love, because there’s too much hate in the world.  And seriously: if you’ve not yet picked up a disc featuring Devin Townsend – either one of his solo projects or some of his work with Strapping Young Lad – then maybe my job here is hopeless, superfluous.  There’s only so much I can rant and rave about something before I realize that no one’s listening.  KI is soothing, sublime, reflective – I love it, but I’m willing to accept that maybe it’s more personal than something I can recommend to everyone.  ADDICTED, though – frankly, if you don’t pick this disc up, you’re doing yourself a real disservice, and if you pick it up and don’t like it, your soul was stolen in the middle of the night.  It’s bouncy, and heavy, and poppy, and layered, and filled with so many ‘ands’ that your head will explode.  If there’s such a thing as an aural orgasm (an eargasm, maybe?), you will experience it sometime during tracks 7-9.  And then you can thank me – after you wash your hands, please.

Friends of mine also suggested the following albums make the list: “Born on Flag Day” (Deer Tick), “Veckatimest” (Grizzly Bear), “American Sunshine” (Colin Hay), “I and Love and You” (The Avett Brothers), “Cage the Elephant” (Cage the Elephant), “OK Bear” (Jeremy Enigk), “Me and You” (VAST), “Elvis Perkins in Dearland” (Elvis Perkins in Drealand)“Monsters of Folk” (Monsters of Folk), “Black Clouds and Silver Linings” (Dream Theater), “Outer South” (Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band), “Wilco” (Wilco), “Back from the Dead” (Spinal Tap),”It’s Blitz” (Yeah Yeah Yeahs), “Bitte Orca” (Dirty Projectors), “Masterful Mystery Tour” (Beatallica), and “Kingdom of Rust” (Doves).

Sadly for them, this is my list, not theirs.

Someone also suggested Scream (Chris Cornell), but I punched them in the throat, and we are no longer friends.