Watch Out; VK Lynne Is About To "Slam The Rock Back Down"

There are many ways we have tried to sum up our relationship with history. There is the ever-popular, "those who do not remember the past are doomed to repeat it." There is also the more accurate, "history doesn't repeat, but it does rhyme." What we are getting at, in a philosophical sense, is that history may be an orbit like anything else. Rather than time unfolding as a straight line from the past to the future, it might be a mobius strip where the lessons we forget bring us back to the same place that required their learning to begin with. That isn't a very optimistic thought, I realize, but I would ask if there is actually much to feel optimistic about when thousands of years of civilization have yet to make much of a difference in the prejudices we find ourselves still dealing with. The only thing that changes is how accepting we are of them in the mainstream of discourse.

Maybe that means power-ish metal is an unexpected choice for VK Lynne to use in addressing the state of the world. What often gets dubbed as 'happy metal' has long been more than that, but just as culture can't shake stereotyping groups of people, the music world hasn't quite shaken its disdain for power metal.

VK takes on the harder edge of the genre, with heavier guitars and a chugging rhythm that, if anything, recalls a streamlined version of her days fronting the progressive metal band Stork. The guitars are tuned down, the high frequencies stripped away to give the song a low rumble, and to give VK's voice more room to be the siren sounding the warning to us all.

The meaning of the word 'siren' has changed over time, shifting from the alluring call of death to the signal that tells our hearts to start beating faster. VK's siren is blaring the message that we, as humanity, are better than what we show ourselves to be. Between online culture making it easier to speak anonymously, and political culture taking sandpaper to the very idea of respect, we are wallowing in the deepest end of the cesspool on a daily basis. Speaking of sirens, both the guitar tone and the runs of notes tagging the riffs are very much in the style of Bruce Dickinson's best solo work. In fact, it can easily be argued this does that better than most of Bruce's own album that came out earlier this year.

VK belts out lyrics calling us to be better, to have empathy for our fellow man. As someone who has always struggled with that ability, I can speak from experience that empathy is a greater display of strength than spitting bile. Anyone can pick up a knife and draw blood, but you have to be trained to pick up a needle to mend the wound. Grace is something we talk about in divine terms, but we do so as a way of ignoring our own role in the process. If we act terribly, we can say it is all part of God's plan, but all that does is paint the deity in the worst possible light.

No, it is our job to slay the dragons among us. The best way to do that is to not give them oxygen, so their fire breath cannot ignite. If no one listens to the toxic voices, they will float off into the ether of space and time, being discovered only as the relics of the past they are.

There are two ways to handle times like these in music. We can either give in to our depression and make sad-sack music for us to tote our issues in, or we can scream back in the face of those who want to dissuade us into silence. VK's voice uses all her power here, piercing through the thick mix to give us the message; Don't feed the monsters, don't listen to the hate, don't forget better angels still exist if we invite them to visit us.

This song tells us that when the ugly parts of humanity crawl out from under their rocks, we need to slam those rocks back down, and bury them once and for all. There will always be that element in the darkness, but we can choose not to give it daylight. Finding the strength to do that can be difficult, and maybe a fist-pumping bit of metal is what we need to push ourselves into action. VK, and her knack for melodies that soothe the hard edges of her very pointed message, might be just what the times call for.

You too can slam the rock back down as early as tomorrow. Pre-save the song here.

Singles Roundup: Pale Waves, Moggs Motel, Avatarium, & Charlotte Wessels

Eclectic is today's word of the day.

Pale Waves - Glasgow

Here's something I didn't expect to be saying this summer; I'm interested in this new Pale Waves album. There are a couple of other bands putting albums out I should be more excited about, but what I've heard so far is leaving me bracing for disappointment. Pale Waves, though, seem to be rebounding. This is yet another song that feels like the band is going back to the sound of their debut, which I just listened to again recently, and that's a wonderful thing. Heather's voice fits this colder and more laid-back sound so much better than when they tried to be more of a pop-rock band. This is a return to 'Daria-rock', as I call it, and maybe the trials and tribulations of the last couple records were necessary for the band to remember who they are. There are a few other bands that could learn that lesson; you need to have an identity, even if you're experimenting. This sounds like Pale Waves.

Moggs Motel - Apple Pie

I'm not sure I completely understand this. Phil Mogg put UFO to bed after fifty years, only to pop right back up with a new solo project. Judging by this song, the only thing that seems different is the name. Mogg's band drops in some heavy (for classic rock) riffs, and his voice is still the weathered charm it has long been. The sharp production lets the nuances of his voice stand out, which is the best thing we can hear. It's a fun little song, but I can't shake the question; why isn't this a UFO song? This could easily fit on any of the last few UFO albums, and it would certainly get more attention with that name attached to it. The only thing I can think of is that this project comes with less expectation of being on the road, but would any UFO fan really be upset if the band made studio records without playing live anymore? I'd gladly take the album this will be on over UFO ending with a dang covers album.

Avatarium - Long Black Waves

Not that I'm much of a doom fan, but I think I can safely say Avatarium is my favorite current doom band. They are able to make the darkness sound romantic, never more so than on "The Fire I Long For". Their new album doesn't arrive until January, but we're already getting the first taste. I don't know if releasing a doom song in the middle of summer is the optimal choice, but here we are. The good is that the band continues to excel at writing doom that has grace beyond the usual bludgeoning, and highlights Jennie-Ann Smith's soothing voice. If bands like Lucifer play up the camp of the 'dark side', Avatarium is more like the black velvet lining of the coffin. They're a lovely place to rest, and they don't seem to be wavering from what they do well.

Charlotte Wessels & Simone Simmons - Dopamine

I'm sure this pairing is a dream scenario for many people, but I'm not one of them. I continue to be rather confused by Charlotte's writing, as all three singles so far leave me scratching my head. This is at once the heaviest thing Charlotte may have ever done, and also maybe the least interesting. Despite the vocal assist, the melodies get lost in the guitar tracks, and it leaves the song feeling as if it doesn't even have a hook. If this is supposed to be experimental and artistic, which I think it is, the results are rather lost on me. I like my art to look like things, and I like my songs to sound like songs. This is more of a sonic palate than a memorable song, and once again I'm wondering what the spark was to this track that convinced everyone involved it needed to be made.

Quick Reviews: Deep Purple & Cassadee Pope

No common thread this week. We have two very different albums.

Deep Purple - =1

This is an interesting turn of events. Deep Purple is undeniably near the end of their run, and yet here they are bringing in a new guitar player. The loss of Steve Morse from their ranks seemed like a good time to hang things up, but the band is soldiering on with young(er) blood. After hearing the results, I'm not sure if that was the best decision.

That isn't to say the band needs to retire, but perhaps some evaluation of what they are best at these days was in order. Morse's version of the band had more nuance to the playing, and felt like the most mature version of Deep Purple. Now, they are back to a simpler and heavier riff approach, which might inject a bit more energy into the proceedings, but doing so puts an emphasis on their age in others. This style asks more of Ian Gillan, and he's not up to the task. He still sounds good when he's relaxed and composed, but these songs ask for more volume and energy than his voice has anymore, and his occasional lapses into near talking leave me thinking he knows he can't keep up through the entire record.

Deep Purple are legends, but this album is rather forgettable. I haven't been much of a fan of any of their most recent work, but I could appreciate what they were doing. This is the first time in a long while it feels like they are going backwards, trying to recapture days of the past rather than moving forward. I don't know if that's quite the way you want things to end, but maybe this isn't the end. Who knows?

Cassadee Pope - Hereditary

I keep hearing people say that pop-punk is having a revival, but I guess it goes to show how siloed we all are that I can't say I've heard nearly anything from this new wave of bands. One artist who has cut through is Cassadee Pope, although I will admit I can't remember now exactly how I came across her name. Her previous album was a return to emo-ish roots, and this record keeps going in that direction.

If you heard Avril Lavigne's "Love Sux", you'll have a good idea of what Cassadee is up to here. This album not only sounds similar in production, but also in some of the cadences, and Cassadee's voice as well. Pop-punk is not known as a very original genre, so I'm not knocking this record for that. What it does, though, is draw the comparison in my mind. That is both a good and bad thing. It's good in the sense that I liked Avril's record, and that means Cassadee gives me a similar nostalgic vibe for a certain era. It's bad in the sense that I think Avril's record was a bit better, so this one is falling a bit short of a measuring stick that doesn't need to be there.

We come close to some great things. "More To Me" is on track to be one of the better songs I've heard all year... and then the chorus turns into 'whoa oh' territory. The stickiness dissipates quickly, and disappointment set in. This album is a decent time, but a bit of honing could have made it stand out in a crowded field.

Singles Roundup: Jules & The Howl, Ghost, & Yours Truly

This week's assortment of songs has much to discuss:

Jules & The Howl - Bow Down

If ever there was a time for a resurgence of the 'riot grrl' movement, it would be now. We have apparently reached the tipping point where equality became too real for some people, and the backlash is in full force. The weakest among us are trying to roll the calendar back to the days when the phrase 'all men are created equal' was not just a remnant of grammatical history. Women have to continue to fight to be taken seriously, to be respected, and sometimes just to be heard at all.

With this new song, Jules is embracing a sound akin to 'riot wave', where her music merges the dirty chords of punk with synth lines that wrap the medicine in a layer of delicious cheese... in a good way. She delivers a message of standing up for herself, being unwilling to bend the knee to anyone who would treat her as a stepping stone rather than a whole person. The frustration with not being heard, and the defiance at not letting those people win, builds through the track until she lets out the signature howl at the end. It's the grit in that scream which shows there's a deep well of resolve the opponents will struggle to ever drain.

What's great about Jules' recent music is that unlike so much of what we end up hearing, she is writing songs about important topics, and how we can get through these chapters of our lives without falling apart. The whole point of artistry is to say something, not just make pretty noises, and Jules using her music to tell her story is a prime example of that. I don't know if that makes a song an anthem, but it does make it a real, true human connection.

Ghost - The Future Is A Foreign Land

My relationship with Ghost is quite complicated. They are perhaps the best example of a 50/50 band, wherein half their music is bloody amazing, and half of it makes me wonder if it's even the same band. After the singles they chose for the last album were the worst songs of their entire career ("Twenties" is flat-out awful, sorry), they return with this one-off from their movie that is entirely different. This time, they dig more into the older, almost surf sound of Tobias' prior band, which is a decision I am entirely on board with. Ghost is best when they're being a pop band, and this is as pop as they can get. The sunny disposition of this song is pulled from 60s rock, and it's not being so metallic that lets the Ghost gimmick and subversion sound even sweeter. This one probably won't blow up the way "Square Hammer" did, but I might like this even more.

Yours Truly - California Sober

Music is more about timing than we like to admit. Bands that should have been huge don't break through because their sound doesn't match the cultural ethos, or they put out their record when something else eclipsed them. There's also a case where a band who is great doesn't connect with us because WE aren't at the right time. That's what I feel is happening with Yours Truly, especially as they put out this song talking about the casual non-sobriety that passes for being sober these days. It seems to have gotten in the way of the band going where they wanted, but I am too old to relate to this new reality. My only experience with those clouds of smoke was decades ago, and even then I was as far removed from it as possible. Yours Truly is talking about what life is like for them at their age, and the generational divide is a bit too much for me. I think these singles have shown me enough to say their record is one I'm sure I would love if I was 20, but I fear I won't understand since I'm 40. That's a shame, but it's the truth.

We Never Move Past These Arguments, Do We?

The latest music controversy comes to us from the world of YouTube, where music professor/producer Rick Beato made a couple of videos talking about the current state of music, and whether or not technology is to blame for what he sees as the obvious and apparent decline of quality in popular music.

The biggest problem with the entire conversation occurs before we even consider any of the points he wants to make. It is the same problem I have encountered with him, and others of his age who talk about music in such terms. Namely, they never define how music has gotten 'worse' in terms that aren't, to use a very technical term of my own... bullshit.

The main thrust of Beato's commentaries for years is that modern music is worse because it isn't 'real', and it's put together by too many people at a time. A regular feature of his breakdown of the current hits is his railing against how many songwriters are listed in the credits of any particular song.

Can we please stop with this ridiculous type of thinking? Art is art, and a song is a song, regardless of how many people were involved in writing it. Let's look at one of his favorite bands, The Beatles, for an example. There are plenty of songs written by John, or Paul, or George, alone. There are also songs written by John and Paul together, often with George Martin adding invaluable parts. Are we to believe that the collaborative tracks are somehow worse than the others because more people were involved in making them? Oh, and that's without even mentioning the input of the engineers who had to create and figure out the ways to make all the sounds the band was trying to achieve. It was absolutely a team effort.

Beato's answer to that is to apparently draw a distinction between people in a band, and people from the outside. Why three members of a band collaborating on a song is more acceptable than collaborating with an outside songwriter is never explained, other than in the mythos of the band mentality. 

He can't even keep this consistent, as he mentions how hard it was for Frank Sinatra to make a great record, because they had to perfectly calibrate the microphone for the performance, and then Sinatra had to sing a perfect take. Yes, that was difficult, but he glosses over the irony that Sinatra had other people write, arrange, play, and produce the music. He walked into the studio and sang the song, which isn't all that different than how the pop music he currently rags on is made.

The rub in all of this. Despite being a professor of music, someone who had to explain things clearly to his students, Beato doesn't actually explain what he is talking about, because I think even he must realize he is actually arguing a matter of feelings, not one of facts.

He will explain that popular music now has more average songwriters on a track thna it did forty years ago, fewer key changes, and fewer chords per song. Those are facts, and they are not in dispute. What he never does is actually make a case for how those things make music worse. Some of the greatest songs in the world only have three chords, or never change keys, or were collaborations. The form a song takes, and the manner in which it was created, is irrelevant to whether the art itself is any good.

This goes all the way back to when Metallica cut their hair during the "Load" era, and exposed a wide swath of 'true' music fans as being just as shallow and image-obsessed as everyone else. If the only thing that matters is the music, we are mostly all idiots.

To get back to his main point; does technology change the way music is made? Absolutely it does. There is more music now than ever before, and if you want to make the case that there is too much music being made by people who aren't up to the task as songwriters, I'd be right there with you. That doesn't actually have anything to do with whether technology is making music worse, though. Many of those people would have still been writing songs and playing them at their local coffee houses anyway. We just get to hear them now, because they can upload everything to the internet. Things haven't changed as much as he thinks they have.

As always, this comes back to our inability to see and admit that culture changes as time goes on. Do I think pop music is worse than it was when I was young and invested in it? Absolutely I do. But I also admit that is more to do with the tone and tenor of the music moving in directions I'm not particularly fond of than it is to do with the talent level dropping. The music being made by the generation behind me isn't going to be the same as what my generation made, and that's ok. It was justified when the classic rock bands upended the days of Buddy Holly and Tin Pan Alley, and it's justified today. That's just how time works.

There is no such thing as a 'golden era' where music was all amazing. Every period has its own identity, and anyone who is saying that today's music is garbage needs to take a look in the mirror and remember that there was a time when "Disco Duck", "Convoy", and "The Streak" were all number one hits. So much of all these arguments comes down to the selection bias of forgetting the crap that existed in the past, because it was crap, and today's crap being too new to forget yet.

Perspective is a hard thing, isn't it?

Neurodivergence & Taste: One In The Same?

We have talked many times over the years about the fact that music is not objective, and we do not all hear the same music in the same way. Whether it's your best friend not understanding why you love your favorite song so much, or seeing a YouTube comment that your favorite singer's voice hurts their ears, our experiences are entirely our own. We know this, but do we really understand why it's the case?

Recent self-evaluation has opened this question anew for me. I have known I seem to hear things differently than a lot of people do, and I've been told more than once I listen to music the 'wrong' way because I focus on certain aspects over others, but I assumed it was merely a matter of taste. I'm now thinking it's a more complicated subject than that.

Scientists and philosophers don't truly understand consciousness, which is a giant hole in our knowledge of ourselves. We know it exists, but trying to pin down the mechanisms by which we are given this ability is something that has so far been just beyond our reach. It's essential to answering many of life's biggest questions, though, as we also don't know what factors might go into having different experiences of the same thing.

That's a long-winded way of getting to the subject of neurodivergence. We now have a better understanding of the actual physical processes of the brain, and with that has come a realization that more of us than we previously thought have brains that work in ways different than the 'normal' setting. We think of it in terms of the traditional manifestations; social awkwardness, routines, reaction to stimuli, etc.

But what if it's more than that? What if having a brain that works in a different manner also impacts the way we hear and appreciate music? It isn't a far leap, from a theoretical perspective, to reason that a brain more attuned to logic and numbers might hear music and focus on the timing of the drums and rhythms, while a brain that gets overwhelmed by too much of everything might instead focus on melodies that soothe. Rather than being a matter of taste, the way our minds work may actually be guiding the kind of music we find ourselves listening to and loving.

This makes a lot of sense to me, as I consider these subjects. Over time, I have noticed a pronounced change in the way I interact with metal. While I was never a big fan of the more extreme bits of it, I was still regularly checking out death metal to see where I could find common ground. I will maintain that Bloodbath's "Like Fire" is actually a pop song, and Entombed's "Chief Rebel Angel" should be a classic.

The point is that I was at least open to that music back then, but not anymore. Today, when I try to listen to anything with even hints of extremity, the sound is so overwhelming I can't find even the slightest bit of enjoyment. That goes for some of the production on 'regular' metal as well. There is so much volume and saturation, it overwhelms me and basically short-circuits my brain. That is my experience, not a universal one.

So why am I bothering to talk about any of this?

Understanding how our brains work is vital for making the most of our lives. We are better off knowing how we think, so we can put ourselves in situations where we are playing to our strengths, and getting help when facing problems we are not well equipped to deal with on our own. The same thing is true when it comes to music. If we know how our brains work, and we know what parts of music are going to appeal to us, we can make better use of our time seeking out new songs and albums. Rather than banging our heads into the wall trying enjoy the bands everyone is talking about at any given time, we can follow the path that will give us more enjoyment and comfort. Yes, many of us have already done that under the guise of taste, but it's an easier decision to make, and to explain to those who refuse to accept it, when it can be explained with more of a physical rationale.

But perhaps a lot of this is self-serving, and what I'm actually saying through all of this is that for all the people who listen to what I have to say and question my taste in music; It's not my fault!

That's a joke, but only partially. There is an element to this that is reassuring when I consider that my taste might have been preordained by the sounds I am most susceptible to. It might not have been a matter of luck, or timing, it was always going to be this way. I like thinking of that, not because of anything to do with fate (I have very complicated thoughts on that subject), but simply because it means my embrace of music that has never been 'cool' and 'popular' was actually defending myself when I didn't know what was going on.

Now that I do, it make me wonder if subconsciously I always knew this was the case, but merely lacked the words to explain it. I certainly made enough jokes over the years about my wiring being screwed up.... little did I realize it was just a different kind of circuit.

Album Review: Mr Big - Ten

The world is an odd place. Mr Big is releasing this album as a piece of their retirement, which has involved a world tour playing to fans who have been with them for over thirty years. On this side of the ocean, though, you would probably run into a majority who thought Mr Big retired decades ago. To have a strong fan-base around the world, and yet be a complete afterthought in your home market, is a fascinating turn of events. The 'big in Japan' thing started with Cheap Trick, but it applies here as well.

This album being their last negates the need to say anything, but this music explains the arc of their career. Mr Big are enormous talents, but they struggle with the most basic piece of being a successful band. I don't think it's a surprise at all that their two biggest songs are an acoustic ballad and a cover, since those forced them to leave their skills at the altar of songwriting.

I've heard all the albums Mr Big has put out since reforming, and there is one consistency to them; they aren't great songwriters. There will be a great song here and there, like "Undertow" was when it led off that album, but by and large the band gets sucked down into blues rock excess. That is what this album offers up in spades. Song after song lives in the swamp, with the compositions hanging on the basic framework, and offering almost nothing in the way of a strong vocal melody.

There are certain melodic and rhythmic cliches that come with the blues, and they are all over this record. Perhaps they are doing this to come full-circle and show off their roots, but it doesn't feel at all like it belongs in this time. This is a record trying to be an early 70s record, but it wouldn't be a particularly good one even for that time period.

What bothers me most is that by saying I don't like this record much, it makes me an asshole, because the record is a tribute to drummer Pat Torpey. Heckling a eulogy is bad taste, but when you make it public...

Basically, this album makes a perfect case for when people ask why Mr Big never made it bigger in The US. I'm sorry to say, but they weren't on the same level as songwriters as most of the bands that made it to the top of the mountain. All these years later, they have their moments, but little has ever convinced me they could write another song as good as "To Be With You".

Quick Reviews: Visions Of Atlantis & Kissin' Dynamite

This week, we find two albums that leave very similar impressions.

Visions Of Atlantis - Pirates II: Armada

There is a category of albums that Visions Of Atlantis are firmly falling into, one that Unleash The Archers just a short time ago was also in; Good music I can't connect to. Visions Of Atlantis are good at what they do. Their moderately symphonic metal is full of lovely melodies and strong hooks. They make a compelling case for themselves, especially as some of the older names in that scene have either faded or moved along to other areas of the metal world. I won't take anything away from their ability as songwriters.

The issue is that this is their second consecutive album centered on pirates. No matter how good the songs might be, lyrics about pirates are going to be difficult, if not impossible, to connect to. There is a barrier erected by the content that means I'm not going to be able to embrace this record the way I would like to, the way I probably should. Unleash The Archers did the same thing with their sci-fi concept record. It was good, but I simply don't care about their story of AI and technology, just like I don't care about pirates. Good for the band if they enjoy this gimmick, and if the audience likes it, but it isn't for me.

That means this is a record that firmly becomes a background listen. It's a very pleasant way to spend some time, provided I'm not focusing all my attention on these tales of piracy. When people say 'lyrics don't matter', these cases are why they do.

Kissin' Dynamite - Back With A Bang

Here we have another case of a band being good, but that not being enough. Kissin' Dynamite does write catchy rock songs. They're a fun time, and if you're listening casually, there isn't much to complain about. My job is to do a bit more than that, and Kissin' Dynamite starts to show their flaws when you dig beneath the surface. Their songs are the cliches of rock; parties and women galore. Even that wouldn't be the worst thing, but I'm not in a place right now where being mindless appeals to me.

Take their single, "The Devil Is A Woman". It's a common theme, but done with absolutely zero nuance. They state the devil is a woman, and she tempted the narrator into bed anyway. Ok, so where is the reckoning about what that means, or how he was able to be conned? There is no recognition that the devil can't tempt someone who can't be tempted, but all the fault and guilt is put on the woman. They missed an opportunity to write a song that was actually about something, instead resorting to a song about even the devil wanting to get freaky with the narrator. Ugh.

Maybe this is just because I was too young for the days of glam, and I'm too old for it to seem like nostalgic fun, but what truly is cock rock holds no appeal for me. I'm not asking these people to become poets, but I would appreciate if they at least sounded like they've had a thought one time in their lives.

Looking Into The "Cracked Rear View", 30 Years On

Post grunge, were we that uncool, or were we being intentionally uncool?

I asked myself as I was listening recently to "Cracked Rear View", the album that might have signaled the true shift from grunge to whatever we want to call the period afterward. Hootie & The Blowfish were an odd choice to become the biggest band in the country, and yet fifteen million copies of the record meant they were the biggest new thing since Nirvana destroyed an entire decade in one fell swoop.

If you want to get angry, think about this; "Cracked Rear View" is actually a bigger record than "Nevermind".

I told you it would make you angry.

Seeing the band failing to catch passes from Dan Marino in a music video, while wearing the horrid fashion of the day, is quite the interesting look back. I was not old enough when the album came out to understand just how utterly lame Hootie was, so I heard the singles come along and ate them up. Not only has "Cracked Rear View" sat on my shelf for thirty years, but I even own a copy of "Musical Chairs". If you're wondering how or why I don't have "Fairweather Johnson", I can't explain it.

Here's thing thing about Hootie; they're great at being the stupid fun we often say we want music to be. If we were trying to insult them, we could slander them as being just a 'bar band', but is that really such an insult? Those bands draw crowds, and they make people happy, even if they do nothing special we will remember as fine art. There's a place for meat-and-potatoes music, and that's what Hootie specialized in.

I think the key was Darius Rucker's baritone, which set them apart from bands like Gin Blossoms, who were very much in the same mold. Jangly guitars and sing-along melodies came to define that period of time, which I will admit I do miss quite a bit, and perhaps Darius' move into country music has given us a distorted view of what Hootie always was. There were elements of the South, and of country to their sound, but they were merely the latest band following the line from Dylan and Tom Petty, telling stories about America in that uniquely American way.

It makes sense to me that Hootie became so popular, because we were coming out of a time when angst and depression had taken over rock music. While grunge had its charm, there is only so much emotional turmoil the general audience is going to put up with. We were ready to move on to better things, happier thoughts, and I have a feeling grunge was going to fade away even if Kurt Cobain had lived.

Hootie was the band that told us it was ok to have fun with music again, that we could turn it into a party atmosphere, not a pity party. Even on "Let Her Cry", the tempo picks up just enough toward the end to make it into a bit of a jaunt, and not drag things down into the sad story Darius is singing us. We were in a decade of seemingly peace and prosperity, and our music was going to reflect that. It's no wonder that only a few short years later we had the rush of manufactured, sugar-high pop that only made sense when there weren't pressing social issues demanding our attention.

That also explains why Hootie is able to get together and tour regularly, since we need that kind of escape from the endless onslaught the world presents us today. Hootie not just reminds us of a simpler time when we weren't so invested in trying to maintain our own sanity, they are a reminder that dark times eventually end, and something better will come along. I don't know when that will be, or what form it will take, but listening to "Cracked Rear View" is a trip back to feelings that have been absent for far too long.

So as we look at the album on its anniversary, perhaps we need to remember that some albums are classics for the artistic statements they make, and others are classics for the zeitgeist they captured. That is what "Cracked Rear View" is. I doubt many will ever call it a paragon of songwriting genius, or call it one of the most influential albums ever made, but few records were as of their time as it was.

Being in the right place at the right time is sometimes luck, and sometimes skill. Either way, it's hard to think of the 90s without this record coming to mind. That was a simpler time, and for forty-five minutes we can head back there. I think it's worth doing that every once in a while.

Album Review: The Warning - "Keep Me Fed"

It’s hard to imagine the pressure of being an artist trying to follow up on a breakthrough.  One pictures a dim room, band members sitting under a single bare light bulb, saying to each other “Okay, we made a statement.  What do we do now to follow up?” Fans are rarely content – we are conditioned to believe that the apex could always be ahead.  The central thesis of the soft science of marketing impresses upon us that what’s next is always better than what we have.  

That’s probably an over-dramatization, but that’s the moment The Warning finds themselves in.  They began to turn heads with “Queen of the Murder Scene” two albums back, but that was ripples in a cow pond relative to the floodgates of “Error.”  Suddenly the band was a hot commodity – sold out shows across the country, appearances on whatever remains of the corpse of MTV, attention from major publications, all of it.

Under that weight, how would the band respond?

The short answer is, with measured but confident evolutionary strides, folding more and more influences into the music of their new album “Keep Me Fed,” and sounding contemporary while still incorporating all the rock and roll standbys that helped the band come to prominence in the first place.

First notable moment first – at the end of “Error” was “Martardio,” the album’s only song in the band’s native Spanish.  Overlooked among all the bombastic singles, the song was quietly one of the album’s best songs.  For “Keep Me Fed,” the band plays “Que Mas Quieres,” and drops into the clean up spot on the record (that’s the fourth song, for non-baseball fans,) front and center in the record where it can’t be missed.  Again, it’s one of the stronger songs on the album, this time in the place it deserves.

From this point forward is where the album starts to unfold in new directions.  “MORE” channels a touch of the guitar thump and dire tones of contemporaries Dead Poet Society, and “Escapism” is a bouncy, funky little tune that hits right with a singalong chorus, but then pounds a crusher of a breakdown at the end.  

As the album goes along, there are hallmarks of other familiar names that shade across the speakers, notably the double set of “Hell You Call A Dream” and “Consume,” which calls to mind two different phases of Lacuna Coil’s career.

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves – this is still The Warning.  It would have been easy for the band to double down into their laurels and make “Error” again, or worse yet, stumble backward into a rock and roll album about partying and public drunkenness.  This power trio refuses to do that, instead writing a pained anthem like “Satisfied,” which maintains accessibility and a choral vocal, while speaking candidly about pain and relationships.  This kind of songwriting, coupled with the obvious talent of the three players (and making the correct choices in songwriters to collaborate with,) is makes The Warning stand out from any number of also-ran rock bands in the last twenty years who crashed upon the shore, but receded meekly back into the ocean.

It's been a long time since a band this young caused this level of excitement in the rock and roll scene.  “Keep Me Fed” well, keeps the audience fed by showing new sides of a familiar band. 

Album Review: Orden Ogan - The Order Of Fear

There are certain records that are hard to talk about, not because you don't like them, but because there isn't anything left to say anymore. When a band locks into a style, and they deliver their trademark sound time and again, what exactly do we have other than to say where it slots in with their previous work? I've been asking myself that question as I listen to this new Orden Ogan album, because it is essentially the same album they have already made several times over. There are changes in the lyrical motif to try to make one different than the next, but the reality is that outside of their debut album, they are all pretty much interchangeable.

That has two effects. On the one hand, you know what you're getting when you put the newest record on. If you like Orden Ogan, you're going to like the new record. On the other hand, you know what you're getting when you put the newest record on. If you want to be surprised by anything at all, you're going to be disappointed.

What that means to me is that while I enjoy Orden Ogan, and I usually find their records to be quite good, I seldom find myself moving to listen to them between releases. Their catalog exists in my mind as one giant slab of metal, which isn't the best thing for making me think I need to go back again and again. If I can put on my one favorite of their records, why do I need to listen to the others?

This album continues the multi-record story arc that I can honestly admit I didn't follow a lick of even on the first album it encompassed. After now a couple dozen songs telling this story, I'm not at all interested in whatever the plot of this whole thing is anymore. I've never liked when albums make you do homework listening to the backstory in order to fully appreciate what you're hearing.

The good news is that Orden Ogan hasn't slipped when it comes to writing their anthemic songs. Sure, the single "Moon Fire" is a lethargic one, but the rest of the album delivers the usual fare. We get fast guitar melodies, some chunky chugging, and choirs trying to make everything sound as epic as possible. It's absolutely the sound of a band trying to create a fantasy world through their music, with a song like "Conquest" working well as the tune the characters sing while gathered around and drinking whatever alcoholic concoction exists in their world. That's when Orden Ogan is at their best, even if it's a world I don't have any desire to inhabit.

As I said, at this point the only thing I can really do is say where this record stacks up in relation to their others. To that effect, I maintain "Easton Hope" is still their best album, with everything else in a tight battle right behind it. This record is more consistent than "To The End" was (with it's re-recorded songs from their demos), and it's not as relentless as "Gunmen". That would put it on par with "Ravenhead", which I think is a fitting comparison. They are the two record that try for a hint of diversity in their sound, and succeed for hitting more than one note.

"The Order Of Fear" is another solid Orden Ogan album, and whether that's enough is going to come down to how much hunger you still have for that. I'm not sure I have much.