Saturday, April 14, 2007

Good Charlotte- Good Morning Revival

Revival is a word with many different meanings and connotations. It can be used to describe a religious conversion, a renewed interest or a period of high emotion. Morning can be seen as a metaphor for a revival; the arrival of a new day brings a new start. On their fourth album, Good Charlotte attempts to revive their music, but fails in every aspect.

Good Morning Revival is a desperate attempt to be taken seriously. Everything that was remotely likable about this band is gone. The pop hooks and tongue in cheek lyrics of singles like “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous” and “Girls and Boys” have been replaced with tired synthesizer riffs and dour lyrics Good Morning Revival was logical step-forward in the evolution of Good Charlotte, but it actually exposes what a mediocre band they are.

The most interesting thing about Good Charlotte is not their music; it is their ability to rip-off whatever is hip at the time. When the band came into the mainstream in 2002 with The Young and the Hopeless, they fit neatly alongside a million other blink-182 clones. Two years later, it was cool to name drop bands like The Cure, so the band became Goth for The Chronicles of Life and Death. In the two years since Chronicles, the stylish sounds of new wave have become hip, so Good Charlotte has picked up a synthesizer.

Unfortunately, Good Charlotte forgot the cardinal rule to being a stylish new wave band: Shallowness and glamour. To the band’s credit, they have the shallowness down to a science. However, no matter how many Hollywood parties they attend, no matter how many anorexic blond starlets lead singer Joel Madden dates, there is absolutely nothing glamorous about Good Charlotte.

On the album’s opening track, “Misery” Madden whines about the plastic, shallow people that populate Los Angeles. Madden fails to realize that he has become the epitome of what he is whining about. Lyrical missteps like this make the album unintentionally hilarious. “Keep Your Hands Off My Girl” is the worst offender. Madden glorifies the shallow Hollywood lifestyle that he scorns, gloating about his chains, his model girlfriend and his hot car. After that burst of male bravado, Madden morphs into a wounded puppy, claiming that he is a “Victim of Love.” Please.

Good Morning Revival is the worst album of 2007 so far. This may seem like hyperbole, but there is not one redeeming factor in this record. The music is dull and lifeless, and the lyrics are an insult to human intelligence. If Good Charlotte knew how to write a decent hook, or if they had an ounce of wit or humor, this album could have been saved. Unfortunately, Good Charlotte let their ego and self-importance drive this album, and it’s what ultimately killed it. The band meant this album to be a piece of serious art, but art requires craft, and Good Morning Revival has none.

Black Sabbath- The Dio Years

Author's Note: This review was originally published on 411Mania.com. It can be found here:

http://www.411mania.com/music/album_reviews/52963/Black-Sabbath--The-Dio-Years-Review-%5B2%5D.htm

Black Sabbath was on the verge of death in the late ‘70s, worn out by years of constant touring and the pressure of releasing an album every year. Frontman Ozzy Osbourne was mired in substance abuse and had become increasingly unreliable. The band’s final albums with Osbourne, Technical Ecstasy and Never Say Die lacked the fire and fury of their first five records, and sold poorly. In June of 1979, the band fired Osbourne and hired ex-Rainbow frontman Ronnie James Dio.

The Dio era often gets overlooked, simply because the Osbourne era has been so influential. However, the Osbourne era had one distinct advantage over Dio: It had been distilled and compiled numerous times. This made it easy for new fans to get their feet wet without jumping in too deeply. The Dio Years rectifies this, giving fans their first official compilation of post-Ozzy Sabbath.

The album is in chronological order, taking five tracks from 1980’s Heaven and Hell, four tracks from 1981’s Mob Rules, three tracks from 1992’s reunion album Dehumanizer and one track from 1982’s Live Evil. The album contains three new tracks.

The Dio Years kicks off with “Neon Knights,” the explosive opener from Heaven and Hell. Tony Iommi plays with passion for the first time since 1975’s Sabbath Bloody Sabbath. The riff for “Neon Knights” is faster than anything from the Osbourne era, taking its cues from the New Wave of British Heavy Metal rather than the blues. The band does not completely pander to this sound, but adapts it to fit their style. The rhythm section of Geezer Butler and Bill Ward is as tight and heavy as ever,

Although the sound of the band has changed slightly, it is Dio’s singing that carries it. Dio’s Herculean voice gives the band new life, especially after two lackluster performances from Osbourne. Dio hits some incredible notes, especially on the ballads. He knows how to get the emotion of the song across without oversinging. The only problem is that Dio’s operatic voice lacks the raw menace that Osbourne had. With Ozzy, you felt like you were in serious danger. Dio is generally unthreatening.

The band made a smart move by choosing most of the songs from Heaven and Hell. Each track shows the versatility of the band. “Neon Knights” and “Lady Evil” are both stomping rockers. “Heaven and Hell” is an old school Sabbath epic, with a slow and dramatic riff. “Lonely is the Word” is a showcase for Dio’s vocal techniques.

The Mob Rules begins with the title track, which is Sabbath at their most ferocious. The song is a showcase for drummer Vinny Appice, who replaced Bill Ward. He plays drums with alarming power and gives the band a Zeppelin-esque sound. The tracks are arranged in a similar manner; rockers up front, ballads towards the back. After Mob Rules, the album begins to fall apart.

The songs from Dehumanizer don’t have the passion of the first two albums, although “After All (the Dead)” contains a great riff, where Iommi borrows from himself. The album plunges further into the hole by including a version of “Children of the Sea” from the 1982 live album Live Evil. “Children of the Sea” is a great song, but it would have made more sense to include the studio version from Heaven and Hell

The band redeems itself with the three new songs. Things have come full circle, and once again Ronnie James Dio has revitalized the band. “The Devil Cried” is a great piece of old school Sabbath. Tony Iommi plays with all the doom and gloom of old. Dio’s voice has lowered slightly, but his older voice adds to the song. “Shadow of the Wind” is essentially a rewrite of “Black Sabbath,” and “Ear in the Wall” is a headbanger in the tradition of “Paranoid.”

The Dio Years is an incredibly effective compilation. It gives the listener an effective introduction to the Dio era of Sabbath without going overboard. If you already own Heaven and Hell and Mob Rules then there is no need to own this, but the new songs are definitely worth checking out.

Friday, March 16, 2007

The Stooges- The Weirdness

The Stooges have pulled the wool over our eyes. When Iggy and the boys reunited for a series of one-off shows in 2005 and 2006, they blew fans and critics away with the same explosive energy they displayed in the early ‘70s. Invigorated by the public’s response, the band announced a new Stooges album for 2007. The result is The Weirdness, a half-baked attempt at a comeback.

There was no way that the band could top the visceral power of their first three albums, but they certainly could have tried harder than this. The Weirdness sounds very rushed, as if it were written in a few days. For a band like The Stooges, this would seem like a good thing, but none of the ideas ever take flight. The band tries so hard to sound like themselves that they come off as an imitation

The thing that made The Stooges so groundbreaking was their sound. Guitarist Ron Asheton created walls of distortion and noise. His guitar would produce squeals and moans that seemed to come from the depths of hell. He balanced the sheets of sound by creating riffs that become tattooed on the listener’s brain. On The Weirdness, Asheton’s guitar squeals in all the right places, but the riffs aren’t there. They are so bland that they sound like they come from an instructional video. All the songs bleed together. There is nothing to distinguish “Trollin’,” from “You Can’t Have Friends” or “My Idea of Fun” from “Greedy Awful People.”

Drummer Scott Asheton suffers from the same problem as his brother. His drums are exceptionally loud, but are incredibly robotic. Asheton seems to be going through the motions, not even bothering to create a groove. This is a problem, because the Stooges thrived on a groove; its part of what made them so appealing. With the lack of great riffing and robotic drumming, the mighty Stooges sound like just another punk band.

Iggy Pop could have saved this record. If he was on his A-Game, his charisma could easily transcend the banality of the music. Unfortunately, Iggy could care less, and it shows. Pop’s voice has lowered in recent years, but that’s understandable considering he is in his late 50s. However, his vocal delivery has nothing to do with nature. Iggy talks his way through each song, and his apathy for the material is palpable. The apathy extends to his lyric writing, which take arrested development to a new level. How do you respond to a 59-year old man spouting lines like “My idea of fun is killing everyone?”

When The Stooges reunited for those festival gigs last year, they proved that they could still bring the goods live. Their live gigs may still pack a punch, but the energy onstage no longer translates to a good record. Raw Power was a street walking cheetah with a heartful of napalm, but The Weirdness is a house cat with a firecracker.

Sunday, March 4, 2007

David Bowie- Diamond Dogs

Ziggy Stardust was killing his creator. David Bowie’s androgynous space alien had brought him fame and fortune, but the line was becoming blurred. Worried about being typecast in the glitter movement that he helped create, David Bowie was determined to change. On July 3, 1973, before a sold out crowd at London’s famed Hammersmith Odeon, Bowie announced Ziggy’s retirement. The next day, he fired The Spiders From Mars and prepared for the next phase of his musical journey.

When Diamond Dogs was released in 1974, it was greeted with mediocre reviews. Critics thought it was confusing and unfocused, and lambasted Bowie for firing his talented backing band. While some of the critiques remain valid, time has been kind to Diamond Dogs. Although it lacks the cohesive vision of Hunky Dory or Ziggy Stardust, it contains some of Bowie’s best work.

Diamond Dogs is loosely based on 1984, George Orwell’s dystopian vision of the future. The music is considerably darker than much of Bowie’s previous work, and is fueled by paranoia and fear. The record begins with “Future Legend,” a chilling spoken word piece. Bowie describes a post-apocalyptic Manhattan, where human beings roam like packs of wild dogs. He proclaims the album “ain’t rock n’ roll,” but genocide, which leads into the title track. Bowie’s change in direction is evident from the first note. Mick Ronson’s fuzz-toned Les Paul has been replaced with a cleaner, blues inspired tone. The song has a heavy Rolling Stones influence, but more polished.

Although “Diamond Dogs” is a departure from Ziggy, it still fits into the glam motif. The first truly radical departure is “Sweet Thing,” one of Bowie’s most overlooked songs. What makes “Sweet Thing” so special is how it builds. It begins with a solitary piano chord, and the other instruments come in one by one. Bowie’s vocals begin cold and distant, but grow to a gorgeous crescendo of soul and passion. In the middle of the song, Bowie changes gears. “Candidate” is a paranoid nightmare, filled with fractured guitar riffs and a nervous saxophone. Again, the song builds slowly, and just as it reaches a breaking point, Bowie goes back into “Sweet Thing.” This three song suite is one of Bowie’s finest moments.

The three song suite is followed by “Rebel Rebel,” one of Bowie’s best known songs. “Rebel Rebel” is a great song, a sleazy glitter rocker in the great Ziggy tradition. Bowie goes out of his way to emulate Mick Ronson’s crackle, and succeeds. However, after such a stunning suite, “Rebel Rebel” feels like a step backward.

After “Rebel Rebel” the album becomes erratic. The second half of the album doesn’t further the concept, but serves as a preview for Bowie’s next incarnation: Plastic soul singer, which Bowie would fully explore on his next album, Young Americans.

It’s easy to see why Diamond Dogs received such negative reviews when it was released in 1974. Bowie really can’t seem to make up his mind. Does he still want to be Ziggy, or a soul singer? Does he want to be a blues rocker or a paranoid crooner? However, the album’s lack of a theme is what makes it so compelling. Diamond Dogs doesn’t deliver with a perfect vision, but it does offer something for every type of Bowie fan. It may not be Hunky Dory, but it is far from mediocre.

Friday, February 9, 2007

Fall Out Boy- Infinity on High

What a difference two years make. When Fall Out Boy released From Under the Cork Tree in 2005, they were just another band making their major label debut. When the band released “Sugar We’re Going Down” that summer, Fall Out Boy went from a struggling mid-level band to the top tier of the mainstream music machine. Infinity on High shows a band trying to live up to their superstar name, but falls into many of the traps that plague modern music.

The album has a strong beginning. The opening track, “Thriller,” features a surprisingly good cameo from Jay-Z and some muscular guitar riffing. “The Takes Over, The Breaks Over” and “This Ain’t a Scene, It’s An Arms Race” are excellent pop songs, and contain the anthemic hooks the band is known for. The songs feature flourishes of electronic instrumentation, which gives them a kinetic energy. Unfortunately, the band is unable to keep up the pace.

Infinity on High starts to fall apart with “I’m Like a Lawyer,” the album’s fourth track. The song is catchy enough, but sounds like a Maroon 5 b-side, with lead singer Patrick Stump pretending to be Adam Levine. “Hum Hallelujah” starts off as an enjoyable slice of emo pop, but ends with an out of place female choir. A choir is bad enough, but when they start chanting Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah,” it becomes laughable. The first half of the album has flaws, but by the second half the flaws become gaping holes.

Fall Out Boy have been praised for their witty and self-deprecating lyrics, all of which are penned by bassist Pete Wentz. The praise has obviously gone to Wentz’s head, because the second half of Infinity on High contains some of the worst lyrics ever committed to tape. “Golden” is the worst of the bunch, a self-important, bloated, pretentious Coldplay ripoff. Lyrics like “I saw God cry in the reflection of my enemies,” are delivered without a trace of irony. Wentz probably wrote such lyrics in an effort to seem deep, but instead comes off as a shallow kid trying to sound smart.

After “Golden,” the album is unable to get back on track. Once pretentiousness rears its ugly head, it’s hard to take Wentz and company seriously. They attempt to go back to their roots with songs like “The Carpal Tunnel of Love,” but once a guy claims that he has seen God cry, it’s hard to believe he has relationship problems.

Infinity on High could have been a decent album. Fall Out Boy’s willingness to expand their sound is honorable, and they can write really great pop songs. While the group’s ambitions are honorable, they are what kill the album. Fall Out Boy became popular because they presented themselves as the ultimate underdogs. By adding unnecessary frills such as female choirs and string quartets, they have lost the element that made them so appealing in the first place. Fall Out Boy has reached their coveted place at the popular table, but they were more likable when they were playing Dungeons and Dragons.

Friday, February 2, 2007

Van Halen Reunites!

Van Halen is finally getting the respect they deserve. Nearly three decades after the release of their debut album, they are going to be inducted into The Rock n’ Roll Hall of Fame. David Lee Roth, Edward Van Halen, Alex Van Halen and Michael Anthony will share the stage for the first time since 1996. The band is preparing for a tour this summer, with Eddie’s 15-year old son Wolfgang on bass.

There was a time where I would not have missed this show for the world. When I was 13, Van Halen ruled my life. I remember my friend Jeremy coming over to my house with his dad’s copy of Van Halen I. I could not believe what I was hearing. I had never heard anyone play guitar like that before. I had never heard a frontman with such personality, and I had never heard such a tight rhythm section. The band was perfect in every way. I bought a copy immediately.

The music was great, but it wasn’t the reason Van Halen became my favorite band. Van Halen was my favorite band because of the image they projected. To me, they came across as gods on Mount Olympus. Life was a giant wet t-shirt contest, and I went along for the ride. David Lee Roth was everything I wanted to be: He had long blond hair, he had abs, he looked awesome in leather pants, and most importantly he could get any woman on earth.

I listened to Van Halen I every week for about three years, supplemented with liberal amounts of 1984 and Women and Children First. Then I started to grow up, and my image of Van Halen as the perfect band began to break apart. David Lee Roth’s blond mane started to thin, and the spandex pants didn’t fit as well. Michael Anthony and Alex Van Halen’s rhythm section wasn’t as exciting compared to Pantera’s wrecking crew of Rex Brown and Vinnie Paul. I watched Eddie destroy himself with alcohol and cigarettes. I listened to them less and less, until I barely listened to them at all.

A decade after I bought Van Halen I, my dream has come true. The band is going on tour with Roth. So why am I on the fence? I think it’s because a small part of me holds onto the image I once had. I’m afraid that if I go see them, the image of the conquering heroes of 1984 will fade forever. I really don’t want to lose that image.

Yes, Van Halen will take the stage once again this summer. They will look older, and they might not be as energetic as they were 23 years ago. But they will delve into their catalog of classic songs: “Ain’t Talkin’ Bout Love,” “Unchained,” “Hot For Teacher.” The crowd will be rabid, and Dave will say “Look at all the people here tonniiiigggttt!”

This time, I will be one of them.

Monday, January 22, 2007

Iggy and the Stooges: Raw Power

The uneasy feeling begins before the music starts. You can’t put your finger on it, but you know there is something wrong. As you stare at the cover, you can’t help but hear the pastor of your church echoing in your head. He told you rock n’ roll was the instrument of the devil, and that it would make you do all sorts of sinful acts. He said it would make you want to drink, dance and have sex before marriage. You always doubted him when he launched into one of his diatribes; but this time he may be right.

Imagine a wooden shed filled with 5,000 kegs of gunpowder, 60 cases of dynamite and an atomic bomb. Throw a lit match in the shed and watch what happens. The resulting explosion is exactly what Raw Power sounds like. The record is a smoldering manifesto of unapologetic testosterone, shouted out with manic glee by Iggy Pop and his merry band of Stooges.

When The Stooges released Raw Power in 1973, they were on the verge of collapse. Guitarist Ron Asheton and bassist Ron Alexander left the band, while Iggy delved headfirst into heroin addiction. He hired James Williamson as his new guitarist, but was unable to land a deal. The band found a savior in David Bowie, who signed the band to his management company and landed them a deal with Columbia Records.

Raw Power was never meant to be a hit record. It was too weird, too loud and too abrasive for it’s time. No band was making such anarchic noise in 1973, but three short years later four punks from Long Island began their assault on the music world. The loud distorted pop of the Ramones led to the nilhism of The Sex Pistols, which lead to the fiery politics of The Clash. Raw Power is the root from which punk rock grew.

However, influence is useless without great songs. Raw Power delivers. Iggy Pop casts aside his ambition to be Lou Reed and emerges as the most primal frontman in the history of rock n' roll. His fangs are out, and venom spews from ever pore. The change is most evident on the album’s standout track “Search and Destroy.” Iggy howls that he is “a streetwalking cheetah with a heartful of napalm,” over a guitar riff that is on the verge of collapse.

The album never lets up for a second, not even on the ballads. The band becomes more dangerous on the slow numbers, because Iggy’s paranoia is magnified. When Iggy asks the listener for danger, you don’t know what to do because it sounds like he has more danger than he can handle.

When the Stooges broke up in 1973, it seemed like they would be an also ran in the history of rock n’ roll. The exact opposite has occurred because unlike a lot of popular music from that year, Raw Power retains its impact. The Stooges’ music strikes the most primal depths of the human spirit, and sometimes that beast needs to be let out of its cage.