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Post by kds on Mar 24, 2020 15:46:37 GMT
So far, my favorite track of the album is the one I'm on: Friday Night. A little less over the top (he says as the Brian May-esque harmonized guitar solo begins), just a cool rock-and-roll song that would have fit in perfectly in the early '70s glam world. Justin Hawkins's falsetto isn't as over the top on that song. I'll be honest, the falsetto does take some getting used to (I thought the same thing when I first started to get into King Diamond).
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Post by Kapitan on Mar 24, 2020 15:54:44 GMT
It's not really the falsetto that strikes me as over the top (though I guess it is!). Just the total package.
Either way, I don't begrudge them their gimmicks. They're a talented band (clearly), and what a talented band decides it wants to do to cut through the clutter, hey, go for it. Beats copycatting.
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Post by kds on Mar 24, 2020 16:13:35 GMT
It's not really the falsetto that strikes me as over the top (though I guess it is!). Just the total package.
Either way, I don't begrudge them their gimmicks. They're a talented band (clearly), and what a talented band decides it wants to do to cut through the clutter, hey, go for it. Beats copycatting.
I got to see them live a couple times while they were promoting that album, and they put on a killer show. Oddly enough, their most recent album was released last fall, titled "Easter is Cancelled." The way things are right now, that title could prove to be prophetic.
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bellbottoms
Pacific Coast Highway
Posts: 727
Likes: 201
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Post by bellbottoms on Mar 24, 2020 16:37:55 GMT
I had the pleasure of seeing the Darkness live a few years ago and it was an AWESOME show. I don't have a deep knowledge of their catalogue, but it wasn't necessary to appreciate their music and performance. They clearly LOVE performing, you can see it in every move and hear it in every note. That show was an absolutely unbridled joy to witness. One of the all-time most fun and memorable shows I've ever been to.
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Post by kds on Mar 24, 2020 16:44:19 GMT
I had the pleasure of seeing the Darkness live a few years ago and it was an AWESOME show. I don't have a deep knowledge of their catalogue, but it wasn't necessary to appreciate their music and performance. They clearly LOVE performing, you can see it in every move and hear it in every note. That show was an absolutely unbridled joy to witness. One of the all-time most fun and memorable shows I've ever been to. They actually played a free show in Baltimore about five or six years ago. I still kick myself for not going.
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Post by jk on Mar 25, 2020 12:38:26 GMT
I gave the album a listen late last night (bar one song with a video YT decided I shouldn't watch). I can see their appeal--what you hear is what you get, no pretensions and no holds barred. Did I like it? It's on the very edge of my musical tastes. Still, I got to appreciate Queen in the end...
This is the track I was denied last night--thank you, FlyingMonkies325:
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Post by kds on Mar 25, 2020 12:48:54 GMT
I gave the album a listen late last night (bar one song with a video YT decided I shouldn't watch). I can see their appeal--what you hear is what you get, no pretensions and no holds barred. Did I like it? It's on the very edge of my musical tastes. Still, I got to appreciate Queen in the end... This is the track I was denied last night--thank you, FlyingMonkies325: Speaking of Queen, Roger Taylor's son is now the drummer for The Darkness.
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Post by Kapitan on Mar 27, 2020 19:14:08 GMT
Belle & Sebastian, Dear Catastrophe Waitress (2003)If I could keep only five albums from the 00s, Dear Catastrophe Waitress by Belle & Sebastian certainly would be among them. (Don’t ask for the other four or you’re likely to get a dozen names and a very frustrated captain.) Now, I know Belle & Sebastian’s image: effete, effeminate, maybe the peak of twee indie rockers for whom the latter half of the term didn’t much fit. None of that ever bothered me much, but I was late to the party on the band mostly because I didn’t care for their arrangements and productions. Their early music—what I heard of it, which is to say what was forced upon me by friends more hipster than me—struck me as poorly arranged, poorly engineered, and generally lacking an editor. In other words, in desperate need of a producer. Enter Trevor Horn. The former Buggles co-founder had produced Yes, Frankie Goes to Hollywood, Seal, the Pet Shop Boys, and too many others to name. An October 2004 feature on Horn said of the collaboration: I’d go further—much further—than “proved not to be the [feared] catastrophe” and say the result is the best album Belle & Sebastian ever released. By quite a bit. Twelve songs, 49 minutes, I’d still trim it a bit, but that’s just me. Even so, there are a solid six or eight really, really good songs on this album. Most of the criticism I’ve seen of the album is that it strays from the lonely-boy-low-fi aesthetic of the band’s earliest music. Pitchfork, back when lonely-boy-low-fi aesthetic was really their bag, said of it: I’d agree with that. They didn't mean it as a compliment, but that depends on one’s position on exclusivity in fandom. Are you losing your precious property, hipster? Frankly, the album is plenty precious as-is. “Piazza, New York Catcher” is a lyrically dense acoustic guitar-and-voice gem that (clear recording notwithstanding) would have fit in just fine on the band’s earlier albums. On the other end of the spectrum, Horn’s production shines through on the creepy title track, with its string and horn flourishes and vibraphone accents. Generally speaking (though “Piazza” is one shining exception) it’s the ambitious tracks that stand out, the tracks that wouldn’t have happened on the band’s earlier albums. Or at least not happened successfully. “If You Find Yourself Caught In Love” might be my pick for the representative track, more than four minutes of almost unbearably earnest gratitude packed into a huge, almost early ‘60s girl-group kind of arrangement replete with full-band hits, organ, piano, strings, background vocals, and yes, the core rock band. Similarly well crafted is “I’m a Cuckoo,” one of rock and roll songs whose twin guitar line calls to mind Thin Lizzy … and not by coincidence, considering the refrain’s line “I’d rather listen to Thin Lizzy, oh.” Precious indeed. But throughout these are songs to sing along with. It doesn’t rawk, but it rocks well enough. I mean, there are drums driving along, and there are guitars. Even if you’re like me, someone who never gave the band the time of day either because of the early stereotypes or the more recent transition into highly electronic-based dance band, I hope you’ll enjoy this sweet spot, 2003’s Dear Catastrophe Waitress.
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Post by Kapitan on Mar 30, 2020 15:01:47 GMT
No takers on B&S? Fair enough, I'll think of another album to offer today or tomorrow.
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bellbottoms
Pacific Coast Highway
Posts: 727
Likes: 201
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Post by bellbottoms on Mar 30, 2020 15:06:09 GMT
No takers on B&S? Fair enough, I'll think of another album to offer today or tomorrow. I did listen to this! It didn't blow me over, but I liked it. I don't really have a lot to say about it... the music is a little "sweet" at times, but that's not necessarily a bad thing, when I'm in the right mood. I'd certainly listen to it again.
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Post by Kapitan on Mar 30, 2020 18:59:19 GMT
(I wrote this for some long-gone board, possibly The Record Room, in 2015. But it's an album I loved and so I thought I might as well repost it here. Just note that this is 5-years-ago-me talking. And it's more a personal recollection than album review. Hope you enjoy.)
Twisted Sister, Stay Hungry (1984)
In 1980s rural Minnesota, the almost literal witch hunt for satanism in rock music felt like an obsession. For those of us listening to that purportedly satanic rock music, it was terrifying.
A prepubescent, newly fascinated connoisseur of hard rock and metal struggled in a very conservative Christian household. Songs with curse words were to be played quietly--contrary to every instinct--or through headphones. Album covers with scantily clad women had to be kept out of sight. Most of all, anything looking or sounding satanic had to be disavowed entirely. "I listen to hard rock, mom," the kid would say, "but I don't like that satanic stuff."
The problem in the America influenced by Tipper Gore, the Peters Brothers, and television journalists ready to jump on the dream story of teenage suicides inspired by satanic cults--and yes, they seemed insistent these things existed--was that "satanic" meant damn near everything more risqué than Stryper or Petra. Long hair, torn or tight clothes, men in makeup, obviously any religious imagery whatsoever, anything more reasonably categorized as fantasy (e.g., elves, wizards and the like), any sentiment questioning the merits of a Reagan-era American dream: satanic. Or at least under heavy suspicion.
When Pee-Wee's Big Adventure featured a scene that included Twisted Sister filming a video for their "Burn in Hell," I was placed in a very awkward position. Number one, even saying hell outside of the context of church was an issue in my home. One could just as well have said fucking c--t. But number two, a song whose refrain threatened that you'd burn in hell, well, that was pure satanism. Simple as that. My mom didn't have to hear anything else. Not "welcome to the abandoned land. Come on in, child, take my hand. Here, there's no work or play. Only one bill to pay. There's just five words to say as you go down, down down."
Just "you're gonna burn in hell," sung by these ugly men garishly dolled up in absurd makeup and feathered or fringed costumes.
I was so fucked.
See, by this time--1985--I knew Stay Hungry, the 1984 album on which "Burn in Hell" appeared. Like, really well. I owned the cassette several times, wearing it out from overuse. I considered it the greatest album of all time, or at least in a tight competition with Van Halen's 1984. I was 11 years old.
In the same way that KISS would affect me around the same time or soon after, Twisted Sister had the perfect formula for an adolescent boy. These were huge hooks being punched by the cornered, oppressed underdog. And what 11-year-old boy isn't a cornered, oppressed underdog?
"We've got the right to choose it. There ain't no way we'll lose it. This is our life, this is our song … you don't know us, you don't belong. We're not gonna take it. … Oh, you're so condescending. Your goal is never-ending. We don't want nothin'--not a thing--from you."
The guitar solos are familiar to me even today. Right now--right now!--I am listening to "We're Not Gonna Take It" and miming the whammy bar dives, so entirely ingrained into my psyche did they become 30 years ago. The riffs were among the first I ever learned, and they're rock solid examples of hard rock music.
Twisted Sister were not what we've long-since come to know and dismiss as hair metal. This wasn't a band conceived of by the marketing team of a major label, assembled from girlish boys whose parts could be recorded by Rod Morgenstein, Greg Bissonette, Billy Sheenan, Steve Luthaker as long as the "band" wore their tight leather pants with the banana or rolled-up sock inserted just so. Twisted Sister had by this time been working the clubs of New York for 10 years and had released a couple of albums. They weren't apart from the now-hilarious fashions of the day, but they weren't so much in it, either. More gruesome than girly, more monster than manicured.
"Stay Hungry," the leadoff and title track, rocks. Like, really rocks. A.J. Pero and Mark Mendoza drive it hard on drums and bass, respectively, the guitars really just pounding out sustained power chords atop the rushing current of rhythm … at least until the dual-guitar solo. It, and the whole album that follows, is big. Everyone knows the cartoonish mid-tempo anthems, "We're Not Gonna Take It" and "I Wanna Rock." Other songs sped past more akin to "Stay Hungry." There were gothic comics and, yes, a power ballad.
Nobody needs a track-by-track, but I mention these songs excitedly because I haven't heard them in more than 20 years. Stay Hungry went from the greatest album of all time to one of those albums I used to like in a heartbeat, not so much because of Nirvana--I hated Nirvana--but because when contemporary music chased its northwestern nirvana, I dug into the past and obsessed on the guitar gods of the '60s and '70s, then jazz, then whatever else.
But listening again now, this is a great album. Always was, always will be. I probably won't listen to it again for many more years, if ever, because it has nothing to do with me now. The adolescent anger and frustration wore themselves out a long time ago; I'm not backed into a corner and have nobody and nothing to rebel against.
But for what it is, for who needs it, this is a masterpiece.
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Post by kds on Mar 31, 2020 12:28:32 GMT
The 1980s hard rock scene contains so many great albums that will, sadly, never be revered as Nirvana's Nevermind, but are all far superior.
Stay Hungry is one of them. Thank you, Kap, for pointing out that Twisted Sister were NOT a "hair metal" band. In fact, I'd say the majority of bands who were branded with that label are not really "hair metal" either. No, Twister Sister was a kick ass, hard rock band. They were more in line with 1970s KISS than Poison.
Funny you mention the Pee Wee movie. I think I was six when I got into Pee Wee Herman, and I couldn't believe they were using the "H" word in a kid movie.
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Post by Kapitan on Apr 21, 2020 16:06:30 GMT
Simon Bookish, Everything/Everything (2008)I don't remember how I learned of the existence of Simon Bookish and his 2008 album Everything/Everything, but I'm glad to have done so. Prior to that album, Leo Chadburn had released a couple of albums under the Simon Bookish name, which I understand were synthesizer based, but this one is performed largely by a live ensemble of brass instruments, saxophones, bass, Farfisa organ, harp, piano, guitar, and percussion. The music itself is hard to categorize, a kind of blend of contemporary classical music, jazz, experimental, pop, math class, and weird university lectures. One review of his live shows (as quoted in Wikipedia) described him as a combination of "Bowie and Baudrillard, Burroughs and Byrne." And that sounds about right. Perhaps it’s “Alsatian Dog” that I loved first, and love most. It opens with what is best described as quite simply a kickass bass part, but by the 45-second mark it’s a collage of competing-but-complementary parts by the horns and piano before falling away again to the groove and lyrics. The guitar parts a minute or so later are equally delightful. Chadburn’s vocals appeal to me. Sometimes he speaks, sometimes he sings. Often he seems to be rushing, trying to get more words in before his time runs out, becoming downright insistent. But as much as I love his lyrics, in these dozen years, I’ve never once focused on understanding them. So in the aforementioned, “What does he eat? What does he eat? What does he eat? [fast talking] LANGUAGE!” goes right over my head even as I smile every time. “The Flood,” which opens the album, begins with a fanfare of sorts that wouldn’t sound out of place on a Frank Zappa album before moving into its backbeat-heavy groove. Another favorite, “Portrait of the Artist as a Fountain.” It opens simply with octave-hopping bass and a soft, galloping beat beneath the vocals, but joined by the sustained chords of a Farfisa for a good while before woodwinds sneak into the arrangement. They—the woodwinds—gradually become more interesting, fluttering here and building on the simple chords there, before all hell breaks loose for a rhythmically interesting instrumental passage a couple of minutes in. Sadly this is the last full-length “pop” (to use the term loosely) album from Bookish. He has continued releasing serious music under his real name, and available at the YouTube channel LibraryOfNothing.
Would you like Simon Bookish? Uhhhh...my guess is maybe jk will. But what do I know? He might not, and everyone else might. If the above sounds appealing, give it a try.
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Post by Kapitan on Apr 22, 2020 14:40:42 GMT
Metallica, Master of Puppets (1986)I’ve never been a true fan of real heavy metal. The classic rock that inspired it, sure. The hard rock that played on the periphery, absolutely. But my bag was always Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, Queen, KISS, Guns ’n’ Roses, and Extreme; not so much Black Sabbath and Ozzy Osbourne, Dio, Iron Maiden, Slayer, and Anthrax. Among the few exceptions to that rule was some of the output from Metallica, and especially their 1986 classic Master of Puppets. Like most of America and the world, Metallica was mostly just a name to me until their single “One” was released as a video. I found it interesting, to some extent, but no match for my favorite music of 1988 (KISS, Poison, Motley Crue, Guns ’n’ Roses, etc.). My brother, though, dove in head first and picked up not only …And Justice For All, but their previous albums and other current albums from purportedly similar bands like Anthrax, Megadeth, et al. I heard them all thanks to the rotating right of choosing music while we did household chores or played driveway basketball. Most of them were an annoyance; Master of Puppets was a revelation. The riffs are undeniably great. I’ve heard them all a million times on record and another five million by amateur guitarists showing their stuff in the music store that employed me through late high school and college summers. “One” and “Enter Sandman” were eventually the most played, but don’t underestimate the widespread popularity of “Battery” or “Welcome Home (Sanitarium)” among guitar players. There could have been a Wayne’s World sequel based on updates to the famous “No Stairway to Heaven” gag, two-thirds of such updates being Metallica songs. But there are melodies, too, both in the vocals and the lead guitar parts. James Hetfield would never be mistaken for a gifted singer, but there was enough here, especially atop the instrumental tracks, to enjoy musically. Kirk Hammett’s guitar parts are at times almost Brian May-like in their ability to supply song-making melodies. The album opens with a classical guitar chord progression that builds layer upon layer of Hammett’s ever-harmonizing melodic figures (which turns to a distorted, electric guitar version of the same figures) before diving into the heavy riff atop Lars Ulrich’s aggressive gallop. Different versions and variations of those arrangement ideas happen throughout the album: acoustic or clean toned; single-note or harmonized melodic guitar lines; and power-chord based riffing. Those changes in texture not only emphasize the complexity of the underlying music, but keep the listening experience from becoming tedious, monotonous. The lyrics, angry and desperate, kicking and screaming against authority of all kinds, are good for someone in that head space. Teenage boys? Check. It was the last Metallica album to feature bassist Cliff Burton, who died in a car accident in September 1986 and was replaced by Jason Newsted. Burton was a talented and versatile bassist influenced by musicians as diverse as Lemmy Kilmeister, Stanley Clarke, Geddy Lee, and Phil Lynott whose technique was such that he occasionally provided “lead bass” parts, including on the instrumental “Orion” on this album. The mixes don’t always do Burton justice, but occasionally his parts shine through and the album is better for them. The album peaked at #29, a far cry from Justice’s success (#6; “One” was a Top 40 single and a hit video as well). But it is to my ears by far the superior album. The band’s 1991 album Metallica was an even bigger success, topping the charts and going 16x platinum in the US, but represented a further withdrawal from the musicality, creative arrangements, and edge that Master of Puppets delivered. The band spent the next 30 years trying to balance commercial success and their early critical and artistic success, largely failing. But regardless of what came before and after, Master of Puppets is an essential album, a classic of heavy metal, and a canonical work in the history of rock music.
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Post by kds on Apr 22, 2020 15:16:12 GMT
Master of Puppets is indeed one of the primary reasons that Metallica are the most successful band in the history of heavy metal.
It's worth noting that when Metallica released MOP in 1986, many of the old guard of heavy metal were delivering material that was somewhat "lightweight" comparing to their earlier output. Black Sabbath (with Tony Iommi as the sole member) released their lone album with Glenn Hughes on vocals. Iron Maiden used keys for the first time on their Somewhere in Time album. Judas Priest released their Turbo album, which seemed to try to glom onto the MTV hard rock scene.
So, the thrash bands really stood out as something new and exciting.
On a side note, as a fan of Metallica, I think many of their core fans are some of the most narrow minded fans in all of music. When they did a video for "One," they "sold out." When they hired Bob Rock, and released The Black Album with shorter songs, they "sold out." When they cut their hair in 1995, they "sold out." When they did a live album with an orchestra, they "sold out."
Master of Puppets should've provided a clue that Metallica were destined to hit a bigger stage. It was more melodic, and even progressive in parts, than the previous two albums. I guess some metal bands want the comfort of a Slayer or Motorhead, who don't fuck with the formula. But, Metallica were not that band.
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