Saturday, September 29, 2012

#190: Van Morrison - Astral Weeks (1968)


Emily: I think the best way I can describe this album is musical impressionism. Like the impressionist painters, Van Morrison elicits a dreamy, ethereal quality in each and every song through both the subject matter and the execution. He's singing about love, but barely says it outright. He simply leaves the listener with its impression. Each song's seemingly simple melody is beautifully crafted with a blend of pop, folk, and classical music. Something about this album drew me in on the first listen that I just want to listen to it again and again. There is just so much to figure out and discover, the layers of theme and musicality that can only be discovered by repeated listening. Astral Weeks is repeatedly listed as one of the best albums of all time, period. My words simply cannot do it justice, so go and listen to it for yourself. I'll join in, just to hear it again.
Favorite Tracks: Madame George; Astral Weeks; The Way Young Lovers Do


Zack: Alright I’ve listened to this album three times over the course of the past week but not a single time was I drinking Jameson. I think I listened to it wrong. But that certainly didn’t stop me from enjoying the album. How could you? It’s just such a perfect combination of so many awesome things. It’s sophisticated, yet folksy. It’s poppy, but still kind of rocking. It’s jazzy. I’d have an antithesis to that, but the opposite of jazz is lame, and this album was far from lame. It was the kind of album that they just don’t make any more, not because it’s old fashioned, but because I’m pretty sure this album isn’t replicable. It is a one-of-a-kind masterpiece. So, you know, listen to it and junk.
Favorite Tracks: The Way Young Lovers Do; Sweet Thing; Astral Weeks 

Friday, September 28, 2012

#189: The Human League - Dare! (1981)



Zack: I have a very deep, spiritual connection with the song Don’t You Want Me. The chorus of which plays whenever I walk down city streets. I know, it’s kind of a weird thing and I’ve often wished for something a tad more subtle (some Right Said Fred, perhaps). But, alas, my wishes have always been in vain and so I have grown accustomed to the blaring synths. But I never bothered to check what the origins of this accursed song were. Until now, that is. The Human League, apparently, are responsible for that incredibly catchy song, as well as several others. It’s not hard to see why. They write synthpop so poppy and synthy that it probably makes Owl City weep tears of jealousy. Obviously, Don’t You Want Me is the biggest song on this album, but I was incredibly drawn to Seconds. It was like this weird, obstructively melancholy iceberg in the middle of a sea of upbeat pop. Apparently, it’s about the assassination of JFK. On a second listen of Seconds, that started to make more sense. There are mentions of parades and a loud booming before describing his face going white. But, at first, I wasn’t paying attention to the lyrics because I was so distracted by how somber the music was. It’s weird for me to eschew paying close attention to lyrics, so that should capture just how gripping the story told by the synths is. It was masterful storytelling that didn’t even need the words. It’s funny how hit-or-miss New Wave has been on the list. There are pretty clearly good and bad categories and no one seems to fall in between. The Human League isn’t at the Duran Duran level (I still listen to The Chauffeur all the time), but Seconds alone brings it damn close.
Favorite Tracks: Seconds; Don’t You Want Me; Open Your Heart

Emily: This was one of my favorite New Wave albums we've listened to thus far. Synth-heavy music can go one of two ways: dark, mopey, and weird; or fun and danceable pop. Both have their merits, but I prefer the latter, the realm in which Dare! clearly resides. I only knew Don't You Want Me before listening to the album, a wonderful earworm of song that rivals Tainted Love and Whip It for catchiness. The rest of the album lives up to the delight of that song as well. Though few songs inspire deep consideration (Seconds being an exception), it's a solid, fun synth-pop album that will have you bobbing your head and busting out some cheesy (err, sweet) '80s dance moves.
Favorite Tracks: Don't You Want Me; The Sound of the Crowd; Love Action (I Believe in Love)

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

#188: Joan Baez - Joan Baez (1960)


Emily: Joan Baez is one of the founding mothers of modern folk, if not the founding mother. She was one of the first, way back in the early '60s when a lot of artists were just getting into rock and roll and British mod, she was delivering stripped-down renditions of traditional folk songs. This album is a preview of the protesting, outspoken, Bob-Dylan-girlfriend Baez of the late '60s. Each song is a traditional ballad, but she makes it her own by rearranging the music to only focus on an acoustic guitar and her pure, clear voice. The spiritual undertones of many of the songs reminded me of synagogue music of my childhood. The cantor played an acoustic guitar while singing simple songs about the holidays, Torah stories, or Moses - none too different than Baez's rendition of Little Moses. Donna Donna is a Yiddish folk song too, which is probably why this connection became so clear to me. I think 1960 Baez would make a great cantor in this sense. I can easily imagine choruses of children singing backup while she plays the guitar and expresses the universal ideals of these traditional songs. I'm sure the more badass Baez of later years would disagree with this image, but the beautiful simplicity of this debut conjures it for me.
Favorite Tracks: House of the Rising Sun; Donna Donna; Mary Hamilton

Zack: How does one go about outfolking folk music? Why, by taking standard folk tunes and reworking them so they sound like your brand of stripped-down, sincere folk music. Folk! Joan Baez on Joan Baez takes a bunch of songs, some of which will undoubtedly sound familiar, and transforms them so they are clearly Baez-esque ballads. Baez! I’m sorry, but when I don’t have anything funny to say I often just resort to saying the same words over and over again until they themselves sound funny. Folk. Folk. Folk. Baez. Baez. Baez. See it yet? I have nothing funny to say about this album because it is a rather beautifully honest display of songs that are specifically picked so they will sound vaguely familiar, while also being different enough because of the way in which they are played. Take, for instance, House of the Rising Sun. You’ve probably heard it somewhere, maybe by The Animals (full disclosure: I didn’t actually remember the name of the band who played that version and had to look it up) or Muse or the first part to Green Day and U2’s version of the Saints Are Coming. Point is, you’ve heard it somewhere, but not the way Baez does it. Quite a few songs are like that. Admittedly, I hadn’t heard quite a few of them before, but by the end of the album, they all felt very familiar.
Favorite Tracks: House of the Rising Sun; Mary Hamilton; Silver Dagger

Friday, September 21, 2012

#187: Garbage - Garbage (1995)



Zack: Butch Vig must be a cocky motherfucker. After producing Nevermind, one of the most influential albums ever, he killed time producing for bands like U2 and Depeche Mode. Finding that apparently too easy, he decides to start up a band with a couple of friends and do their thing. Desperate for a female singer, they contact someone from another band and tells her to check the production credits on Nevermind. What, are you going to say no to the guy who helped break down an entire generation of music and remake it as something else entirely? Who says no to that guy? And so, there’s all the backstory you need to understand Garbage. Or at least all I’m going to give. I actually listened to this album like a week ago but my schedule kind of works in a wax and wane kind of way. Now that it’s beginning to wane, I can finally capture my feelings about this album. Namely “Hey, this is catchy,” and “Hey, this is really catchy.” That’s really all I thought about. Sometimes I would click over and see I was three songs past where I thought I was. But it wasn’t a problem because I was fine just going back and relistening to them. It was a very pleasant experience, but one that I didn’t feel really hit me too hard. I’d be happy to go back and relisten to Garbage, but I doubt there’s any way I will do it religiously. That’s probably the best way I can put it.
Favorite Tracks: Supervixen; Stupid Girl; A Stroke of Luck

Emily: There's something about female lead singers that just catches my ear. Not all female singers, mind you - I'm not that reverse-sexist. But many of the female singers on this list bring such power to pop and rock that you can't help but be enthralled. That's how I felt about Shirley Manson, lead singer of Garbage. She has the alterna-chick attitude down pat, but her singing adds a soft edge to the toughness. She kind of reminded me of Gwen Stefani with No Doubt. Makes sense, since both Garbage and Tragic Kingdom were released in 1995. While No Doubt mixed alternative pop with ska and reggae, though, Garbage mixed it with grunge. Makes sense that Butch Vig, the production mastermind behind Nevermind, also brought Garbage together. It's a winning mix that I really enjoyed. This is an era of music that I always find myself coming back to anyway, and now this album will definitely be added into that rotation.
Favorite Tracks: Queer; Supervixen; Dog New Tricks

Saturday, September 15, 2012

#186: Iron Maiden - The Number of the Beast (1982)



Zack: Iron Maiden is always going to be remembered for being one of the most ridiculously insane, over-the-top performance groups ever. Their stage shows are notorious for being circuses (circi?) of Biblical imagery, violence, and blood on blood on blood. Despite that, I’ve always felt that they had some of the more sonically sound music of their contemporaries. It’s hard to argue with Black Sabbath’s legacy, but I think it can easily be argued that, on an evaluation of the two bands ability to make consistently rockin’ music, Iron Maiden is the superior. Admittedly, I’ve never been all that into either band, and I’ve probably spent more time digesting the music of Sabbath in a very critical way. This is the first Iron Maiden album I’ve listened to in its entirety (I think – you can never be too sure with what I’ve listened to growing up, but I don’t recollect any instances so it’s at least relatively safe to say). And supposedly this is their best one. But I’ve listened to several Sabbath albums before, and was never nearly as impressed as I was here. I didn’t love this album. But I liked it and a lot of that has to do with Iron Maiden’s ability to make really heavy music that also doubles as being just plain really good. While there are undoubtedly some examples of that in Sabbath’s catalogue, I wouldn’t say it’s as pervasive.
Favorite Tracks: Children of the Damned; Run to the Hills; Hallowed be Thy Name

Emily: Controversy seems to follow metal bands around - or maybe they just tend to invite it. Apparently The Number of the Beast was super controversial 30 years ago when it was released because conservative Christians thought Iron Maiden's members were a bunch of satanists. I mean, their album title does explicitly refer to satanic numbers. And the album cover features a...cartoon devil? That's not even scary. That could be part of a Looney Tunes dream sequence or something. Damn, those conservative Christians might be overreacting a bit. And for that comment they'll probably call me a Satanist too - oh well. For all of the controversy, Iron Maiden put together a solid album. It's a half hour of consistently fast, loud, and good music. I usually don't say that about metal, so you should know it must be good. I can see this playing well to a live crowd too, with lots of moshing and shouting along. And perhaps some protesters outside getting pummeled by a guy with a cartoon Satan on his jacket.
Favorite Tracks: 22 Acacia Avenue; Invaders; Run to the Hills

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

#185: Earth, Wind, and Fire - That's the Way of the World (1975)


Emily: Anybody who has ever gone on a car trip with my family (Zack included) knows how much my dad loves Earth, Wind, and Fire. When we got our first car with a CD player back in the day, one of the first CDs he bought was an Earth, Wind, and Fire best-of compilation and he immediately added it into the must-play rotation. I got my first iPod a couple years later, and he requested a personal playlist that contained 2 of his favorite CDs - Barry White and that same EWF compilation. To this day, a few cars, CD players, and iPods later, he still requests the playlist on every single car ride. The routine of my brother and me groaning from the backseat and then begrudgingly pressing play on "Daddy's playlist" has been repeated so many times that it's comical. When I was younger, I didn't really see the appeal of the band, but as I've expanded my musical taste and knowledge (through this blog and otherwise) I've grown to enjoy their unique brand of soulful funkiness. Upbeat classics like Shining Star can always get a party started, and to this day they manage to bring immense energy and excitement to their live shows (mostly because of this guy). Even if I roll my eyes when my dad requests to listen to the EWF Greatest Hits for the umpteenth time, I'll inevitably still be singing along and grooving in the backseat.
Favorite Tracks: Shining Star; Reasons; Yearnin' Learnin'


Zack: Funk is such an interesting genre. It is a merger of so many other influences, yet is so distinctive. If we were to create a funk spectrum for comparison purposes (certainly not because I’m taking a break from working with spectrums of democratization), I think we would need to establish Parliament/Funkadelic as the exact epitome of funkitude. If we position the funk at the exact center of an x-axis, we would derive something like this:
                                                                                                                                            
Jazz                      R&B   Soul               Funk                     Psychedelic Rock             Blues
For context, Funk lies on space 0. Soul is on -2, R&B on -3, and Jazz on -5. Psychedelic Rock is on 3 and Blues is on 5. For those who are curious what a y-axis would compromise, it would be style of vocal delivery. Tending towards the positive y would be silent funk. Tending towards the negative y would be spoken word or rapping. A value of 0 on the y-axis would be a combination of singing but mostly chanting But that’s not important. What is important is that the coordinates for Earth, Wind and Fire – assuming Parliament/Funkadelic exist on the coordinates (0,0) – would be approximately (-1, 1). They have more of a soul influence, but still maintain a strong sense of funk. Additionally, they also work in the occasional spoken word portion, and kind of avoid the whole chanting thing. Does this make everything clearer? If not, avoid political science.
Favorite Tracks: Shining Star; See the Light; Yearnin’ Learnin’

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

#184: 13th Floor Elevators - The Psychedelic Sounds of the 13th Floor Elevators (1966)



Zack: Can someone please explain to me how an electric jug works? It’s got me really confused. I’ve done a substantial amount of research on the subject ever since I read that the 13th Floor Elevators used one on this album, and I’ve seen photographic evidence that they exist. But just how and why? As baffling as the how is, the why is an even more preposterous problem to postulate on. Why is this happening? I don’t mean to let on that this album wasn’t enjoyable. In fact, quite the opposite. It was a pretty entertaining time. Blues, garage rock, folk and psychedelic influences all seamlessly merged. All are genres I appreciate, and they are all used effectively here. But the inclusion of the electric jug wasn’t quite as seamless. It deserves its own Christopher Walken and Will Ferrell skit on SNL. More electric jug is something that should be shouted from the rafters in an effort to create laughter. Surely, the idea that an electric jug, with subtlety thrown to the wind, is just the last element necessary for a song to reach its true potential provides the sort of fodder that only requires some long wigs and tight pants to push over the edge into the boundaries of late-night television. And that, my friends, is what I took away from this album.
Favorite Tracks: Kingdom of Heaven; Roller Coaster; Thru the Rhythm

Emily: I really, really enjoyed this album, but I'm not quite sure why. I know it wasn't the unique element of the electric jug. I'm still not quite sure how that works, considering a jug is an empty bottle and bottles generally do not require electricity. And I agree with Zack that it seemed pretty pointless. To me it sounded like simulated bubbles popping, like a Spongebob Squarepants sound effect repeated over and over again. Not exactly a versatile or even necessary instrument. Seriously, jugs should not be electrified. But jug or no jug, I really liked the 13th Floor Elevators. This album was upbeat and fun, but not poppy or vapid. The proto-psychedelic sound is firmly rooted in blues, rock&roll, and early '60s garage rock. This album came slightly before psychedelic got weirder and more famous, so the rock roots definitely set it apart. That still doesn't answer why I liked this album so much though. A lot of albums came out of this era with similar influences, but this one just resonated with me. Alas, an unsolved mystery. At least, perhaps, until I listen to it a few more times.
Favorite Tracks: You're Gonna Miss Me; Reverberation (Doubt); Fire Engine

Monday, September 3, 2012

#183: Patti Smith - Horses (1975)


Emily: This is not punk as we usually know it, yet somehow it embodies everything about punk. Patti Smith has the fuck-you attitude down to a T, but she's not screaming at you by any means. Her music is as beautiful as it is kickass. She incorporates elements of jazz, garage rock, and even spoken-word poetry to create 8 powerful, near-perfect songs of emotion, anger, and attitude. My favorites by far were definitely the two 9-minute tracks influenced by spoken word - Birdland and Land. Each seem so simple on the surface, a gentle melody with intermixed spoken and sung vocals. But beneath lies something much more powerful, poetic, and raw. Patti Smith should be considered a poet by anyone's definition, and her contribution to punk and, really, all modern rock music (and a debut no less!) is absolutely a classic. My words are certainly not doing it justice, so just listen to it for yourself. I know I'll be listening again and again.
Favorite Tracks: Birdland; Land; Gloria


Zack: I mentioned in passing a few dozen albums ago how excited I was to listen to Horses. I had heard so many amazing things about this album. That it was where that weird protopunk/garage rock era flips up both middle fingers and officially becomes punk, that it was absolutely mind-bendingly great, and that it was the kind of album that, well, everyone should hear before they die. It certainly didn’t disappoint. Horses is unreal levels of goodness. It has all the punk anyone’s heart could desire but still manages to stay musically strong. From that first line, “Jesus died for somebody’s sins but not mine,” you know that it is unequivocally on. This album is not taking any prisoners, and you’re going to like it and that’s that. Boom. That simple. And yeah, it really is that simple. I don’t care if you can’t stand punk music. My guess is neither does Patti Smith. This is the kind of album that, as long as you’re not Mr. Rodgers or Ned Flanders, will speak to you. As long as you have ever been angry about something at some point in your life, you’re going to get where this album is coming from. We’re beginning to near our second 100 album award show, and I already know I’m holding a spot for this album.
Favorite Tracks: Gloria; Land; Free Money