#259: New Order - Low-Life (1985)

Zack: It’s been a while since we listened to Joy Division, and I haven’t really gone back and listened to anything by them in a while. I knew New Order was basically Joy Division sans lead singer, and a friend had told me that New Order had their moments but generally weren’t as good. Still, when I first started listening to this album, I was struck by how different it sounded than my memory of Joy Division. It reminded me a lot of some of the happier tracks by The Cure. Wikipedia informs me that this is the album where New Order really started to break away from its post-punk ancestry and adopt a new face as a dance rock group. That definitely shone through. At first, I wasn’t really feeling this album. It had the popiness of Scissor Sisters or The Cardigans, both of whom I loved, but with that certain '80s cheese. But I realized comparing Low-Life to either of the albums by those two bands we listened to isn’t a fair comparison. What I should be comparing Low-Life to is all those other post-punk albums from this era, which I have repeatedly bashed for all sounding the same. This definitely didn’t sound like those, and I appreciated it for that. Most of the songs had a catchy riff, and Elegia was a phenomenal instrumental track. It wasn’t the best pop rock album I’ve ever listened to, but it was solid and certainly contributed a few songs to a playlist I may make sometime in the future. Isn’t that what really matters?

Favorite Tracks: Elegia; This Time of Night; Love Vigilantes

Emily: I'm usually a fan of the '80s pop/new wave/post-punk albums we listened to. Their bright, synthesizer-enhanced sound draws me in and gets me to dance or at least bob my head for a good 45 minutes, as I happily rank each song as excellent or very good. However, after the initial listen and blog post, I rarely go back to these albums. They're like candy for the ears: sweet for a bit, but with no lasting value. And listen too much, and you'll definitely get sick of it. That's how I felt about New Order. Low-Life has whispers of the band's post-punk incarnations, but with a glossy '80s synthesizer pop sheen. I really liked it for the first few tracks, then got a little bored (though the last track pulled me back in). And will I listen to this album again? Doubtful, but at least I know it's here if I need a little ear candy.

Favorite Tracks: Love Vigilantes; This Time of Night; Face Up

#258: Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five - The Message (1982)

Zack: I’ve been thinking a lot about the legacy of rappers lately, partially because I think it’s an interesting topic and partially because it affords me an opportunity to stop thinking about other, real-life stuff. What brought me to this topic was the release of Eminem’s latest album, Marshall Mathers LP 2. Beyond just the title, the album is often a blatant reflection on his legacy as an artist and where he’s matured and where (more often) he’s just the same as he was back when the Slim Shady and Marshall Mathers LP were both being denied to prepubescent children across the land by parents who didn’t find being regaled by tales of stapling English teachers nuts to stacks of paper as obviously fantastic as they clearly are. MMLP2 is, overall, a pretty good album that has a handful of absolutely brilliant moments. More importantly, it’s my second favorite rap album of the 2013. Now obviously I can’t listen to everything and this could certainly change if Atmosphere somehow set a date for their “late 2013” release. Still, considering this was Eminem’s eighth studio album and his best since his fourth (The Eminem Show – also the first one I was actually allowed to get), it’s a pretty impressive accomplishment. Also impressive is the two rappers on either side of his. Kanye West’s Yeezus (his seventh solo album) and Jay-Z’s Magna Carta…Holy Grail (his eleventh solo album) take the pole position and a distant third, respectively. Staying power is actually achievable for modern hip-hop artists. Meanwhile, there’s Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. On the strength of just one song, they’ve had some of their material preserved in the Library of Congress and been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. One. Song. That’s incredible. And that’s not to say that all of The Message (the album) isn’t fantastic – it is. But it’s that one song, that seven minutes right at the end, that cemented a legacy. After that, well there’s White Lines (Don’t Don’t Do It) that I guess add to Melle Mel’s status as one of the top socially conscious guys to ever bless the mic, but even them I’ve always just rolled my eyes at that song as just another example of 80s cheesiness. Like any copies of the record sold should come with a sticker of the Gipper with a perm giving a thumbs up. That’s pretty much it, but that was more than enough to book time at the Grammy’s for a reunion more than 25 years later. And the early years of hip-hop are littered with similar stories (see: Blow, Curtis). But now? The rap world – the one created by Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five – is one where artists can actually achieve consistent commercial and critical success. The genre has progressed wildly since the final seven minutes of The Message came out, but I don’t think any of that change would be possible if the annals of rap were short those seven minutes.

Favorite Tracks: The Message; She’s Fresh; You Nasty

Emily: What I didn't realize about Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five before today is that The Message is essentially their only album. They broke up soon after, reunited in '88 with most of the the full lineup, and then disbanded entirely save for the reunion at the Grammy's a few years back. I thought they were significantly more prolific than that - they are certainly well-known and well-respected, enough to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame no less. But no, The Message is their one and only success, and its title track their long-lasting legacy. Every hip-hop group in the '80s seems to be like that, except for Run-DMC, and perhaps others that have slipped my mind. But each one has become so influential because they shaped the genre that has become one of the most popular, prolific, and critically acclaimed 30+ years later. I see that with The Message, as an album but more specifically with the song. It draws from funk and other sounds of the era, bringing the beats together with rhymes and tongue twisting lyrics - some silly, some serious, but all fitting together to help shape what hip-hop was, is, and will become.

Favorite Tracks: The Message; She's Fresh; Dreamin'

#257: Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers (1976)

Emily: Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers is one of those bands that's always around, but I don't really know anyone who's actually a big fan of them. Or even anyone who could name more than 2 of their songs off the top of their heads. But yet, every summer they're touring outdoor amphitheaters and headlining music festivals, somehow drawing huge crowds year after year after year. My exposure to Petty has been limited, albeit, so I had hoped that listening to this album would shed some light on the Heartbreakers ongoing popularity. Well, 30-some minutes later, I still don't get it. This self-titled debut is a perfectly pleasant collection of American rock-and-roll songs, and would probably work quite well as background tunes at a summer barbecue. But, beyond the classic American Girl, it wasn't anything that special. Certainly not worth paying arena or festival prices to see live. But hey, maybe their whole catalog is a bit more impressive than this just-okay debut.
Favorite Tracks: American Girl; Breakdown; Strangered in the Night

Zack: Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers are such a perfect representation of Americana rock and roll that arguably their most well-known song was featured in a Scrubs montage. I know of no higher honor. And, as JD so eloquently puts it, “Wow.” American Girl is what we – in the modern day – would refer to as a “banger.” I also like to think that The Guess Who traveled forward in time, heard it, then decided to upgrade the subject to woman status before penning their own masterpiece. Anyway, Tom Petty’s debut is loaded with heartland rock jams like American Girl, and I can certainly appreciate it for that. I’d never listened to this album, but I went through a pretty hard Full Moon Fever phase a few years back that prepared me for the Tom Petty Experience. No song is ever too deep that it requires real concentration. They’re all simple, yet still elegant. Their debut is no different: it’s not the most challenging of albums, but it’s still plenty enjoyable.

Favorite Tracks: American Girl; Anything That’s Rock ‘N’ Roll; Luna

#256: Billy Bragg & Wilco - Mermaid Avenue (1998)

Zack: I have absolutely no experience with the music of either Billy Bragg or Woody Guthrie (whose lyrics are being sung here). But I’ve now listened to enough Wilco that people just assume I’m middle age due to my exposure to Dad rock. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, as has been documented here, was an eye-opening album for me on what I had been missing. Since then, I’ve moved through several more of their albums and enjoyed them (although certainly nothing has compared to the brilliance of I Am Trying to Break Your Heart). Anyway, Jeff Tweedy’s presence here was enough of a sell for me to move all in on this album before I even pressed play. I rated my excitement at a 9 out of 10, which is pretty damn good for any album that I haven’t seen ranked on a “Top 10 Albums That Will Make You Weep Openly and Without Shame” list. Mermaid Avenue definitely lived up to that hype too. It had the folksy appeal that Wikipedia tells me I should cherish from Guthrie, but there was more complexity to the actual music to match the insightfulness of the lyrics. Because of the nature of this album, I don’t really know who to attribute my enjoyment of it too, so I’ll just say a hearty thank you to all parties involved that brought Mermaid Avenue Volume 1 (and the subsequent Volume 2 which I plan on listening to post-haste) into existence.

Favorite Tracks: California Stars; At My Window Sad and Lonely; Eisler on the Go

Emily: What I loved about this album was just how it came together. You see, Woody Guthrie left behind more than 1000 unrecorded songs upon his death, and Guthrie's daughter approached Billy Bragg to see if he was interested in recording some of them. The catch is, however, that Guthrie didn't write any music for the songs, just lyrics with very limited musical notation. It was essentially a giant catalog of poems, but instead of publishing them in a posthumous anthology, Guthrie's daughter thought it would be best to carry out the music in her late father's folk tradition. Bragg, recruiting Wilco along the way, was tasked with turning unfinished folk poems into folk songs, all while keeping the spirit of Woody Guthrie alive in the recordings. It was a tall order indeed, and it was accomplished beautifully in Mermaid Avenue. Without this background knowledge, it would be impossible to tell that the music and lyrics of these songs were separately developed decades apart by men who probably never even met each other. I think Guthrie would be pleased with how Bragg and Wilco melded their own musical senses and spirits with the spirit of his lyrics. Each song takes the emotional tone of the lyrics and reflects it in the music, as if the two were always meant to be together. 

Favorite Tracks: California Stars; Hoodoo Voodoo; Birds and Ships

#255: Kate Bush - The Dreaming (1982)

Emily: Hello again! It's been quite a while since we last posted, which is mostly my fault. You see, Zack and I have started grad school and law school, respectively, and said at the beginning of the semester we would try to get through 20 albums by the end. But then the crushing amount of work that comes along with graduate studies took hold, and I started to slack on my album listening. Zack decided to stop too, so he wouldn't get ridiculously far ahead of me. Now here we are, 3 months since our last post and 2 days from our last finals, and with renewed vigor and a significant increase in free time we return to our humble blogging pursuits. We start back on a somewhat obscure note with Kate Bush. As is the case with a lot of the early-80's alternative on this list, Bush was big in England but less so stateside. Her sound is certainly unique and borders on strange, which may explain why it failed to take off in a country still weaning itself off disco. I thought it was a good kind of strange though, not off-putting like a Captain Beefheart, but an engaging kind of strange that made me pay attention and listen closely. Bush takes dreamy art-pop and twists it into something experimental and new, with sounds ranging from spacey synths to a rolling didgeridoo. Sounds weird, but it makes total sense once you take notice.
Favorite Tracks: Sat in Your Lap; The Dreaming; All the Love

Zack: If both Bjork and Big Boi cite an album as one of their favorites of all time, you know it must be good.  And, yeah, The Dreaming is definitely worthy of both of their appreciations. From start to finish, it finds inventive ways to combine a sort of ethereal, swirling feel (a la Bjork) with some early alternative sentiments. You can tell it’s a true artist feeling out her ability to experiment. In a way, it almost reminds me of the last few Kanye album; someone trying to push the boundaries of a genre they’ve been placed in as far as they can. I don’t know much (anything, really) about Kate Bush’s music beyond this one album I’ve listened to. But if the rest of her stuff is as ambitious as this, then I’ve got some catching up to do.

Favorite Tracks: Night of the Swallow; Sat in Your Lap; The Dreaming