Album Review: With the Dead - "With the Dead"

Time for a tired, clichéd axiom – games are not played on paper.

“With the Dead” is the title of the debut full-length album from the band of the same name, a newly formed consortium born out of the residue of Electric Wizard (Tim Bagshaw, Mark Greening) and the ashes of Cathedral (Lee Dorrian).  With those named collected and performing together, the table was set for a gleefully drudge-laden stew that would bubble and smoke and absorb the listener in its palpable, inky blackness.

The pedigree is perfect; the legacy of these musicians in this style is beyond reproach.  The presentation, with the band pictured as pale-faced zombie priests, is spot-on.  Even the album’s length, six songs with no filler and all roughly between six and eight minutes, is proper.  With the Dead does everything right in the run up to hitting play on their eponymous debut.  On paper, this was set up to be brilliant.

So then, what happened?  This may sound like anathema, particularly to doom metal purists, but the bottom line is that With the Dead didn’t have anything happen in these songs.  There’s melody and rhythm and all those requisite parts of music, but there’s little suspense, no hooks, and no surprises.

The band does do some things very well – the vocal execution of Dorrian is well within his idiom, and he speaks the album’s emotions plainly.  One of the album’s better strengths is in allowing the listener to feel the song’s atmosphere.  “With the Dead” is very much like an Autopsy album in that regard, using plain language and plodding cadences to create a thick feeling of dread and the sensation of being lost, though this band is not to steeped in blood-spattered viscera or literal damnation.

Still, by the time you’ve hacked through “Living With the Dead,” you’re two-thirds of the way through the record and aren’t especially interested in the rest.  There’s a unavoidable feeling like the album contains no more secrets, and the pained wailing of Dorrian with the slow, churning
accompaniment of the duo behind him starts to become a slog.

What makes it more disappointing is that there are good ideas encased in this quagmire of doom.  The riffs of “Crown of Burning Stars” are well-crafted and fit the music’s idiom, but the pace never entices or excites.  It’s the same old down and dirty tar fire that won’t do anything but smolder.

The album is curiously absent of the characteristics of the bands that are Frankensteined together to make up With the Dead.  The drug-induced shambling of Electric Wizard always had a certain silver lining of enjoyable psychedelia infused into the edges and corners, while Cathedral was weaved with an attractive strain of black magic that made the songs pop from the their baseline foundations.  None of that makes it way to this record.

All the musicians involved in With the Dead have done greater things than this, with more spirit and accomplishment that this album shows.  All three are talented in their own right, so there is hope that future endeavors may producer greater results.  With that said, the paper blueprint for this one looked better than the finished product, so stay away for now.

Discography: Meat Loaf

Few artists who have endured as long as Meat Loaf still exist in a world where they are usually perceived as guilty pleasures. For nearly forty years now, the big man has been playing his own brand of music, and despite the sales and longevity, few people don't still give a nod and wink when mentioning their affection for his  over-the-top presentation.

I am one of those few who feel no compulsion to qualify my appreciation of Meat Loaf, and all his music (in equal measure with Jim Steinman) has meant to me over the years. "Bat Out Of Hell II" was the first album I ever owned, and for over twenty years now Meat Loaf has been an integral part of who I am as a music fan. As the wait for the promised new album continues on, I hereby embark on running through Meat Loaf's discography, to once again let the cream separate from the milk.

And lest you think my aforementioned fanhood will preclude this from being entirely honest, I assure you I pull no punches. Let's begin:

Bat out Of Hell (1977)

Nearly four decades after its release, there still isn't anything, aside from Meat Loaf's own career, that sounds like "Bat Out Of Hell". Jim Steinman's vision and voice is one of a kind, and it resulted in an album that is going to be timeless. There's not much that can be said about the album that hasn't been already, but what amazes me about the record is how, with hindsight guiding us, the transition of these songs from the theater to rock and roll was nearly seamless. I can complain about "All Revved Up (With No Place To Go)" being a bit pedantic, and with "Paradise By The Dashboard Light" dragging on too long in the middle, before getting to the truly classic duet section, but for the first effort of two men who didn't know how to make a record, "Bat Out Of Hell" is still a masterpiece. Being rough around the edges just enhances the 'us against the world' mentality of the music. It's an essential album for a reason.

Dead Ringer (1981)

Four years later, and with voice issues along the way, "Dead Ringer" arrived as the disappointing follow-up to an instant classic. There are certainly good songs on the record ("Read 'Em And Weep" especially), and it shares the spirit of its predecessor, but the problems with it are too great to ignore. First of all, Meat's vocal issues are readily apparent, as his rich voice is reduced to a shrill imitation of himself. But the real problem is with the songs, which aren't as developed as what we heard before, and half of the batch was used for Jim Steinman's superior solo album. As half of that bigger picture, "Dead Ringer" is good. On it's own, it's nothing worth listening to very often.

Midnight At The Lost And Found (1983), Blind Before I Stop (1986)

Making his first album without Steinman, it became clear that Meat Loaf needed a certain style of song to fit his voice and his persona. These albums are ill-fated records that don't play at all to Meat's strengths. The songwriting doesn't know what to do, and reduces Meat Loaf to a standard pop/rock singer. That was a terrible approach, and neither of the albums rises above the fact that they exist. That are, without doubt, the nadir of Meat Loaf's entire career. Avoid them at all costs.

Bad Attitude (1984)

Sandwiched between those records was "Bad Attitude", which is a surprisingly strong album. With two borrowed Jim Steinman songs, the stage was set for a record better than those that preceded and followed. But as good as those songs are, they alone wouldn't be able to carry an entire album. The songs that come from other sources are just as good. The title track is a strong rocker that features Roger Daltry in a duet, while others like "Cheating In Your Dreams" capture Steinman's feeling without being direct rip-offs. There's no competition; this is by a mile the best Meat Loaf album between the original "Bat" and....

Bat Out Of Hell II: Back Into Hell (1994)

The album that started my love affair with music. With twenty years of consistent listening, I can say with no qualifications that this is better than the original. While that record is the one that will never be forgotten, this is the stronger set of material. Yes, much of the record is recycled from Steinman's other projects, but it's mostly his best material. And considering that no one has ever been able to sell his material like Meat Loaf, it stands to reason that this would be the best thing either of them had been associated with in ages. There's drama, comedy, and every in between here. Not everything works, like the Three Stooges jokes in "Everything Louder Than Everything Else", but the record is so massive and engrossing, that it's easy to forgive the slight missteps on the way to something genius. It's not spoiling anything to say right now that this is the best record of Meat Loaf's career.

Welcome To The Neighborhood (1995)

Introduced with a Diane Warren penned Steinman clone, this album had the good fortune to live up to the hype. That song is an obvious rip-off, but it's so good that the lack of originality doesn't matter. Add in two more of Steinman's recycled gems, and the rest of the album didn't need to do much to make the whole work stand on its own. The back half gets a bit slow and sentimental, but there's a core of singles here that are fantastic work, so this was by no means the disappointment that "Dead Ringer" was following such massive success.

Couldn't Have Said It Better (2003)

Now we get to the odd part of Meat's career. Working without any Steinman songs again, Meat and his team finally found the answer for how to make a record for him. They hired people who understood Meat's sound, recreated it, and did so in the guise of really good songs. The title track is one of the highlights of Meat's entire career, and despite how creepy it is to sing a love song with his own daughter, everything except for the ridiculous pseudo-rap "Do It" is top-notch rock music in the Meat Loaf style. It's an album I still give regular listens to, because it's his most fun record ever. This looked like the beginning of a new era in Meat's career, but capitalism got in the way of that with....

Bat Out Of Hell III: The Monster Is Loose (2006)

Continuing the trilogy, but with questionable involvement from Jim Steinman, this is a strange beast. Half of the record is Steinman's material, and half was contributed by Nikki Sixx, James Michael, and Desmond Child. Where things get truly weird is that Steinman's half is clearly the weaker one. This album resurrects "It's All Coming Back To Me Now" and "Bad For Good", but turns in lesser versions than other artists had done previously, while scraping the bottom of the barrel for songs like "If It Ain't Broke, Break It", which don't deserve to have been recorded. The others' songs fare far better, producing half of the perfect sequel to "Couldn't Have Said It Better". "Blind As A Bat" and "What About Love" are more career highlights, which makes this album tough to grade. It's a good, complicated mess.

Hang Cool Teddy Bear (2010)

And now we get to the truly weird part of Meat's career. This album is, for an unknown reason, a concept album pieced together by myriad songwriters. It doesn't work in that respect at all, so I won't bother judging it as such. The songs are all over the place, with more attitude than ever before, and a duet with Jack Black of all people. That song, and a couple of others, are still fun to listen to, but the album as a whole is underwhelming, and insulting. A song whose hook is supposed to sound like 'lesbian love' is cringe-worthy, and a sixty year old singing the line "I can barely fit my dick in my pants" made me turn off the record. I haven't listened to it in years, and don't plan to return anytime soon. You can easily avoid this one.

Hell In A Handbasket (2012)

The most recent album, and another that was hastily put together to capitalize on whatever attention Meat was getting. Unlike the previous album, Meat got better songs to sing, even if they don't exactly fit the typical Meat Loaf style. "All Of Me", "The Giving Tree", and "Live Or Die" are all great songs, which then get balanced out with a needless cover of the mediocre "California Dreaming", and a closing half-sketch that is barely a song. You can hear how rushed the album was, which is disappointing. With more time, and a better song selection, it had real potential.

And now we turn our attention to the future, where a new, primarily Steinman penned album is on the horizon. At this point, my hopes aren't getting outsized. I'm not sure how much Steinman material is left in the vault that is worth hearing. I'm afraid we're getting to the point of recycling anything that can be found, just to say it's on the record. We shall have to wait and see...

Album Review: Ram - Svbversvm

Sometimes there are bands that you listen to, and then you completely forget about until the next time you hear their name mentioned. Ram is one of those bands for me. I remember listening to one of their earlier albums, and reviewing it on an early incarnation of my own personal blog, but for the life of me I couldn't tell you anything else about it. Ram fits into the mold of traditional metal so well that there wasn't anything that stood out about them, which makes it hard for me to differentiate them from all the other bands who do the same thing. That doesn't mean they can't make good music, or that they didn't, but it does put them at a disadvantage. Hopefully, this album will make more of an impression, one way or the other.

"Return Of The Iron Tyrant" kicks the album off with more than a dash of classic Mercyful Fate in their sound. The guitars have that same thick, mid-range tone that bites far more than the countless bands that scoop their sound into brittle oblivion, while the vocals are as high-pitched as range will allow. There's some nice riffing, but the song itself doesn't have a lot holding it together. The vocals especially shriek their way through, not offering anything to support the guitars.

"The Usurper" is where we kick things up a notch, with a stomping Dio groove, this song finds Ram hitting their stride. It has a more epic sound, and it's the first time that the music manages to hit a hook. It's still subtle, but the chorus of this song, despite creating a sense of deja-vu, is the best moment yet on the record.

As we move deeper into the track listing, it becomes clear that Ram's mission statement, to be a true metal band, is what holds them back. Listening to a track like "Enslaver", it hits all the bullet points on the blueprint, but that's the problem. So much of what Ram is doing is by the book that they don't give themselves a chance to ever make any impact with their music. By doing what we've already heard a thousand times, they put themselves in the position of having to sharpen their ideas to fine points before they can ever pierce our jaded ears. Simply put, if you're doing the same old thing the same old way, it's going to blend in and become background noise.

I don't like saying that, because I go into every album wanting it to be great. When I hear songs like "The Usurper" or "Holy Death", I can hear that Ram has a chance to do something good. But when the rest of the album follows the tropes without giving me a real hook, either in the vocals or with the riffs, I begin to wonder what the point of the whole thing is. The world surely has enough traditional metal albums in it already, so if you aren't writing songs that bring massive hooks to make them unforgettable, I don't know what a band like Ram is expecting to happen. These songs aren't going to light the world on fire, and they aren't going to make them a big name on the scene.

"Svbversvm" isn't bad, but it's completely faceless. The songs here aren't sharp enough to endure, and there isn't anything here to make me know that it's Ram, and not some other band doing the same thing. On that level, the album is a failure. But if you can't get enough traditional metal, it's really not so bad. It's perfectly fine for what it is. I'm just not sure I know why it exists.

Album Review: Caligula's Horse - Bloom

Caligula's Horse made quite the name for themselves with their last album, "The Tide, The Thief And River's End". That record was able to, through its use of progressive metal and folk passages, breathe actual life into the flaccid world of djent music. That's not saying that Caligula's Horse is a djent band, because they share far more in common with progressive music, as illustrated by their move to InsideOut Records, but there were elements of that style in that album, and they were one of the few times when I could actually stomach that sound. So now that they have returned for the follow-up to their breakthrough, and are on a new label, the expectations for "Bloom" are lofty indeed.

We get off to a far more grounded start with the title track, which spends its three minutes introducing us to the record with tender acoustic guitars, crooner melodies, and a guitar solo that could have been on Opeth's "Burden". The pace picks up towards the end, and does a fine enough job of showing us what's to come, but it feels like it needed more time to fully flesh out the idea and make the two parts of the song feel more like a cohesive whole.

You may have already heard "Marigold", the first single from the album. Those Opeth comparisons register again, as the main riff has the angular composition of something from the "Blackwater Park" era. The song tries to build from its soft verses into a clattering crash of melody in the chorus, but it just doesn't come together the way the band is wanting it to. The melody is so bland that it hands in the air, like the grains of pollen hoping to find a (pardon the pun) bloom before gravity crashes it into the ground.

The band gets back to sounding like themselves after that, but even those songs seek like they're missing something. There's nothing wrong with "Firelight" or the nine minute "Dragonfly", which mix the rhythmic riffing with moments of acoustic beauty, but the melodies float over the top too much. There's nothing about them that is particularly engaging, and the frequent forays into falsetto range seem more to showcase the range than integral parts of the melodies.

Moving along, there's solid tracks in the form of "Rust" and "Turntail", but solid isn't enough. With as much great music as there is out there, I need to hear something more than that to get excited, so while I'm not going to say that Caligula's Horse is doing anything wrong, they aren't doing anything that stands out to me either. Their blend of influences might be different than what other progressive bands are pulling from, but the end result needs a bit more, for lack of a better term, 'oomph' in the songwriting.

"Bloom" is one of those albums that I can tell is painstakingly crafted, and is clearly the work of talented musicians, but it just doesn't speak to me. The melodic composition lacks the hooks that I look for, even in progressive music. It's good, and it's pleasant to listen to, but it doesn't leave much of an imprint. And when there are so many other choices out there, that's a mortal sin.

Album Review: Skindred - "Volume"

Taken in a vacuum, the phrase ‘Welsh reggae metal band’ sounds like the incoherent rantings of a certifiable lunatic, but metal has forever been a safe harbor for that kind of unexplainable mishmash, and so we could only be making reference to Skindred.  Since their debut record in 2002, the band has been bringing a unique blend of reggae riddims and over-charged metal beats to masses on both sides of the Atlantic, accompanying their characteristic sound with a bombastic live performance.

Nothing about that basic formula has changed for “Volume,” the band’s sixth and latest studio record that again pairs the disparate worlds of their musical inspiration.  Naturally, comparisons to the Bad Brains come easily, but don’t tell the whole story, as Skindred is more apt to let their metal overrule their rhyming flow and also use no real punk framework to speak of.  There are similarities between the two bands however, in that they both embrace the historically political streak of reggae music to address societal issues either directly or in metaphor.  Skindred has no problem deviating from this serious material and breaking down into a party, but usually only as a chance to take a break before the next Rubicon is crossed.

What makes Skindred’s presentation work is that the music is really a symbiotic blend when one form helps accent the other.  Reggae has forever been a bastion of deep beats and recurring measures, which can only be enhanced by the power and fury of metal’s distortion.  So it is from the jump with the shambling hammer of “Under Attack” followed by the seam-bursting title track.  Both are threaded through with enough digestible melody to provide some contrast to the deep bass beat which helps make these tunes more than just adapted reggae songs.

“Volume” is a remarkably consistent experience, with the same general musical principles floating the album’s duration.  The performance of each track, even the cuts at the bottom like “No Justice” is professional and measured; nothing on this album is mailed in and every song is played with equal fury and resolve, lending the album a slick but authentic flavor.

Skindred is possessed of a skill that few other bands can boast, which is that they have a nearly fool-proof backup plan.  An unintended benefit of combining two traditionally separate styles of music is that the band is likely skilled in both, so when push to comes to shove, Skindred can always fall back on being a capable reggae band, rather than push out sub-par metal.  We see this a couple times on “Volume,” notably for “Shut Ya Mouth” as the band seems content to tilt their sound one way rather than push a heavier envelope that doesn’t want to move.  Make no mistake, this is a compliment.

There’s nothing aesthetically wrong with “Volume” from a critical point of view.  It’s true that the record is probably a couple cuts longer than it really needed to be, but that’s a minor gripe when unwanted songs can be skipped with an effortless button press.  The other issue with “Volume” is the one that has likely plagued Skindred since the band’s inception – there are those who won’t get it, or refuse to embrace it, or regard the blending of such musics as anathema.  Skindred, while they are capable of walking and playing in both worlds, is really only concerned with those two, and thus cannot provide a different look for anyone who isn’t interested in the primary sample.

Skindred may not be new to the scene but they remain as ever a refreshing change of pace from the norm.  In a year when it seems like there’s become an abundance of sameness, a grueling homogenization from all areas within the metal sphere, Skindred serves as a ray of something vital and different, well-versed in their craft and talented in executing it.

Single Review: Adele - Hello

We don't talk about pop music as often as I would like to around here, mostly because the current pop charts don't offer me much music that I find interesting enough to discuss. I have my opinions on pop music, and I'm sure they aren't popular, but even now I have an affection for good pop music. And so, with Adele breaking the internet with the release of her first single after years away from the spotlight, I feel the need to talk a little bit about it.

But first, a quick announcement. If you notice, over on the right-hand side of the page, there is now a link to the new Bloody Good Music page on Facebook. It will not likely have any new or exclusive content, but it can be another way of keeping up to date on everything we post here. Feel free to head over there if you're so inclined.

Now on to the music:

Adele is the only artist who can rival Taylor Swift in terms of her success, and "Hello" shows us exactly why.

Going through the early minutes with nothing but Adele's vocal and a few melancholy piano chords, all the focus is put on her voice, which is exactly where it should be. She's able to wring emotion out her voice in both the quieter moments and when she opens up her power. This is a far slower burn than "Rolling In The Deep" or "Set Fire To The Rain". Instead of using raw power to hit hard, this song is all about the subtle drama that lurks in the shadows, ready to rip lives apart.

And when it comes, it comes. After the bridge, when the instrumental kicks up just enough, the song becomes a hulking monolith that few singers besides Adele would be able to overpower. She has that rare quality, and it is what makes "Hello" work. With a less skilled vocalist, the song would either be too simple, or too much for them to handle. Adele is a master, and owns this material like few can. She has a knack for writing to her strengths, which is a rare skill. Everything that is good about Adele is spotlighted here, and the end result is a fantastic single that has me excited to hear what else she's come up with.

Concert Review: Soilwork, Soulfly

Fall has a unique place in New York City’s culture and climate, as the concrete jungle bears no color-changing leaves, but the change in the air portends the coming of winter and the residents embrace the challenge, their usual resolve keeping them warm as the winds howl colder and the air gets hollow.  Knowing that their time to comfortably partake of the outside air is limited, the city bustles on, all eyes glued to one unfettered tradition that the fall also brings; playoff baseball.  Even the world of metal music, forever the dominion of outcasts and generally secular to organized sport, was abuzz not only with the excitement of seeing two metal heavyweights together, but the blitzing fall campaign of the New York Mets.

As Soilwork took to the stage, it was immediately clear that this was a night for professional metal musicians to showcase their talent.  The Swedish veterans opened with the title track of their new album “The Ride Majestic,” and the race was on to pack as much metal fury as possible into the shortest amount of time.  Even on the comparatively small stage Soilwork seemed larger than life, thundering through old favorites like “Bastard Chain” and celebrating the tenth anniversary of “Stabbing the Drama” with classics like “Nerve.”  Dirk Verbeuren, for all the talent that surrounds him, remains the most hypnotic figure on the stage when Soilwork is playing.  He never fails is making his flurry of complicated arm motions and coordinated kicking look easy, which belies just how talented the backbone of the backbone of the band’s rhythm section is.

More than that though, Soilwork impresses with their ability to create palpable force with their volume and precision.  A song like “Late for the Kill, Early for the Slaughter” is difficult to replicate without falling into the abyss of distortion and chaos, but on this night it was sharp and effective, the powerful voice of Bjorn Strid cutting through the melody to keep the song on track.  The set’s most impressive moments came near the end, again combining both new and old favorites.  “Petrichor in Sulphur” rang into the rafters and swayed the gathered masses, while “Stabbing the Drama” then hammered everyone back into the ground, each measure another reminder of what well-crafted, experienced metal sounds like.

Eyes were focused TVs showing the Mets game between sets as they pushed toward clinching the NL pennant.  A gentleman near rooted heartily, telling a friend "I don't really care about baseball, but they've got the whole city excited, so I'm getting into it." But when the time came for Soulfly, the crowd was ready.  Speaking of, the crowd on this particular night was great by any standard, but particularly excellent for a crowd in the middle of the week.  They moved, they danced, they moshed, they jumped on command and continued until told to stop.  Just when it seemed like metal crowds had begun to lose their steam on the whole, this collection of people would reaffirm the belief that metal fans are game anytime, anywhere.

Soulfly, in simple terms, rocked.  They crushed necks with opener “We Sold Our Souls to Metal,” and really never let off the gas, careening hastily into “Archangel” and “Blood Fire War Hate,” which stirred the masses into a frenzy.  Just when it seemed that the temperature in the theater was at full tilt, along came a rendition of Sepultura classic “Refuse/Resist,” which tore the top off the place and had bodies flying in all directions to the throwback rhythms of Brazilians thrash from a few decades back.

What strikes when watching Soulfly is just how comfortable Zyon Cavalera looks being in the band.  One would expect him to appear like a nervous twenty-two year old kid, especially sharing the stage with a famous father, but Zyon looks like an old veteran, pounding out beats with confidence and metronomic precision.  Max Calavera, to his credit, clearly plays the part of prideful father on stage, never really drawing attention to the relationship between vocalist and drummer, but it remains evident in his manner.

There was no relenting as the band smashed through “Sodomites” and “Tribe,” continuing their assault with heavy-handed South American rhythms and thick, crunchy guitars.  The encore was a who’s-who of crowd favorites, both from Soulfly and Sepultura.  It’s easy to forget that “Back to the Primitive” was written fifteen years ago because on this night as in many others, it still sounds so virile and moves bodies with a throaty rumble.  After that, the crowd’s meter was stuck on adulation, begging for more from Max before the night ended.  He obliged them by reaching into the back catalogue for “Roots Bloody Roots” which stood as one of the band’s best performances of the night, the crowd singing and thrashing along in full chorus.

Metal is often guilty of hanging onto the past too closely, worshipping those who have come before regardless of their changes or manner.  By contrast, these two bands are both worthy of that praise and keep the genre rooted by providing an example of how cathartic and energizing metal can be.

Discography: Elvis Costello

Welcome to the first installment of Discography, wherein I will venture all the way through an artist's career, giving my take on the entire ebb and flow of a lifetime of work. First up on the docket is Elvis Costello. In honor of his just released memoir, I figured now would be a good time to take a look back at the prolific career of one of my favorite songwriters. For the sake of this exercise, I will not be including his collaborative efforts. This will stick with his albums of original material.

My Aim Is True (1977)

Hearing this now, it's hard to see what the fuss is about. It sounds like a late 70s bar band, because that's sort of what it is. But if you can strip away the decades of musical evolution, what this record turns into is a fascinating look at the early development of Elvis as a songwriter. To come out of the gates with songs as strong as "Alison" or "(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes" is amazing. And while the record lacks the propulsive force The Attractions would give later works, this stands up as one of the best written debuts I've ever heard. Purely from a songwriting perspective, I'd say it's better than its more lauded follow up:

This Year's Model (1978)

Another great record, and the first time we got to hear the thunderous power of The Attractions. Elvis is a great songwriter, but the band brought his songs to life. Their energy, and their nuance, were able to shade and highlight in all the right places. This record ups the bitter anger of the debut, churning out some hard-hitting numbers to go along with Elvis' pop tendencies. My issue is that this record was defined by "Pump It Up", which is one of my least favorite of his songs. A great record, but this is sandwiched by two classics.

Armed Forces (1979)

The best pure Elvis Costello album. This record is the pop playbook chopped up and put back together a dozen times. Elvis never did a better job of fusing his lyrical dexterity and his pop melodicism than he did here. "Oliver's Army" is legendary for it's sugary hook hiding a sinister message, but "Accidents Will Happen" and "Party Girl" are every bit as good. The Attractions showed their versatility throughout the record, and it was here that you could begin to see the makings of Elvis' career.

Get Happy (1980)

The first forgettable Elvis record. It's by no means a bad record, and "New Amsterdam" and "High Fidelity" are long-running standards, but there was simply too much material being produced at too rapid a pace for the record to work. Twenty tracks buzzing by in two minute bursts didn't work, and even the good songs were somewhat under-developed. But this was not a harbinger of doom, merely a correction that lowered the expectations so Elvis could get back to making more daring records.

Trust (1981)

This is where Elvis became divorced from his image. This was no angry punk record, it was a pop record that had as much debt owed to the 50s as to the New Wave. The Attractions were no longer needed for their power, but rather their skill at impersonating whatever feeling Elvis was co-opting. This is a radically mature record, one that requires a more subtle listen than anything that came before. It's a great record, if taken in the proper context.

Imperial Bedroom (1982)

A continuation of the previous album, this one found Elvis stretching himself to his pop limits. From the horn arangements in one song, to the spartan instrumentation of another, there was nothing holding the record together except Elvis. The second half drifted a bit too far, but there are a half dozen standouts, including what might just be Elvis' best ever song, the incredible "Man Out Of Time".

Punch The Clock (1983)
Goodbye Cruel World (1984)

I will lump these together, because they fit the same mold. After "Imperial Bedroom", there was nowhere left to go. Elvis had reached the end of what he could do with pop songwriting, so a turn back towards the conventional was underwhelming. It comes through in the songs, which lack the bite of anything from the previous records. These are regarded as his lowest point, and not without good reason.

King Of America (1986)

The beginning of an unimaginably great year. This is Elvis' best record, although it is certainly not for everyone. Stripping away everything about his persona, Elvis created a somber album of acoustic ballads that would be flawless, if not for the unnecessary inclusion of a couple up-tempo country songs that ruin the mood. This is Elvis' darkest album, his most raw, and a perfect illustration of what it means to be a songwriter. There's no adornments, only the meat on the bone.

Blood & Chocolate (1986)

Bringing back The Attractions, they managed to put aside their differences to pound out this record, a messy affair that bristles with energy. It has its flaws, but there's no denying the greatness of songs like "I Want You". They show Elvis recapturing his songwriting powers, and making the best purely Elvis record since "Armed Forces". 1986 looked like the beginning of a new gilded age, but that's not how it worked out.

Spike (1989)

This album is a mess. It goes in every direction, and never hits any of the marks. There is good material here, but Elvis' fascination with this, that, and everything once again rears its head, as the lack of focus keeps the record from ever coming together as a single piece of work. It remains frustrating to listen to.

Mighty Like A Rose (1991)

Another forgettable record, but without even the pretense of taking risks. This is an album that fades into the dust of time.

Brutal Youth (1994)

Once again with The Attractions in tow, Elvis got back to basics. That meant an improved record, but one that was still lacking. "Sulky Girl" and "This Is Hell" are fantastic, but at nearly an hour long, there's too much material here for its own good. The best songs are washed out with lesser material, and even The Attractions can't keep their interest all the way through.

When I Was Cruel (2002)

Back on his own, Elvis returned to his rock roots for the first time in nearly a decade, but with a twist. This record was built from drum loops and hints of electronic music, making it another one-off experiment. However, this was a far stronger set of songs than anything in fifteen years, so it was also a most welcome comeback. "Dust" and "Dust 2" are two takes on the same great melody, "Episode Of Blonde" is a powerful dip into hip-hop waters, while "Tart" is the most underrated song in his entire catalog. It is genuinely a brilliant song that never gets brought up when talking about his best work.

North (2003)

And now for something completely different, as they say. This album is a classically inspired, piano based album of ballads cycling through the end and beginning of love. It's a record that is too subtle for its own good, but even so, Elvis finds some great melodies to show he can write in the style. "Still" is a captivating bit of music.

The Delivery Man (2004)

Taking a trip to the American South, this album is a semi-conceptual piece that really can't pay off that idea. However, there are pieces of songs here that are truly great. "Country Darkness" is stirring, while "Either Side Of The Same Town" is one of the best songs Elvis wrote after 1986. This is another album that requires a certain mood to listen to properly, but it's the best of his genre-hopping. There is a very good record in here, if you're in the right frame of mind.

Momofuku (2008)

Once again back to basics, and Elvis makes us believe once again. This is a raw and raucous record, and it totally works. There's nothing in either the songs or the production that tries to do anything out of the ordinary, so Elvis is able to write his songs without worrying about needing a net to catch him. "Stella Hurt" is a glorious return to the "Blood & Chocolate" days, while "Go Away" is a pop delight. All these years later, Elvis proved he could still be the Elvis people remember.

Secret, Profane & Sugarcane (2009)
National Ransom (2010)

And to finish our journey, we get a pair of records that find Elvis taking on the mantle of an early 20th century American folk and Vaudeville performer. These records are interesting to hear, but feel out of place. There is good songwriting, but the sound is so antiquated that it's hard to listen to these as current songs, and not as artifacts of a time we've left behind. Their charms are difficult to find, and I seldom think of these as being strong records.

And with that, we have reached the end. Elvis' discography is long, and it takes a lot of turns. It may not be the highest compliment, but this exercise reaffirms that Elvis Costello is more of a singles artist than one for complete albums. Cherry-picking the best songs, he has built a body of incredible work. But album by album, there are only a handful I would single out and say are essential. But the fun is that you get to listen and decide for yourself.

Album Review: Flying Colors - "Second Flight: Live at the Z7"

Rarely are we here at BGM stirred by the possibility of a live album, but upon inspection of Flying Colors’ new two-disc album “Second Flight: Live at the Z7,” we felt compelled to comment.  Not only because the work is the product of laudable musicians like Neal Morse and Mike Portnoy (though that helps,) but because “Second Flight” hits so many of the right notes for a live album, capturing the subtleties of a concert that can normally only be observed, well, live.

What makes this live compendium work so well relative to many of their contemporaries and live albums in general is that it doesn’t feel nearly as long as it actually is.  That’s a fairly good-sized accomplishment for any band that partakes in the occasional musical embellishment, but especially unexpected from a double album of progressive music, where the natural assumption is that very little has been left on the cutting room floor.  Flying Colors, by contrast, keeps their wanderings to a minimum; each individual musician is allowed to show his technical acuity in bursts just long enough to prove the point and not a measure longer.  This keeps the listening experience of “Second Flight” appropriately brisk, but still imparts the feeling of experiencing the unique talent of each person on stage.

By way of example, the unparalleled Mike Portnoy (who hardly needs an opportunity to prove himself,) is allowed to blossom during the outro of “Shoulda Woulda Coulda,” immediately snapping up the attention of the crowd and drawing their appreciation.  Bassist Dave LaRue does a similar exhibition for “Forever in a Daze” with much the same result.  Flying Colors shows off just enough to be compelling through their performance, without crossing the line into unnecessary attention seeking.

With respect to the crowd, one of the subtle successes of “Second Flight” is that there’s just enough crowd allowed to seep through to remind the listener that they’re sharing in a celebratory live experience.  They clap, their cheer, they whistle vigorously and call out when they recognize songs.  This is paired with the robust production of the album in general, excellently mastered as to render the sound full but not overflowing.

For the sake of due diligence, there are also plenty of highlights in the songs themselves and the performance that brings them to life.  The second disc, like the first mentioned above, is equally abound with enjoyable listening, including a fulfilling and light rendition of “One Love Forever,” where the keyboards come alive and the song floats along without worry for about seven minutes.  The same goes for the sanguine “Peaceful Harbor,” which bounds with measured enthusiasm.

“Second Flight: Live at the Z7” is a fine example of what a live album should be.  The joy of the musicians is evident in the proceedings, evident in the tone of their music and evident in the supportive cheering of the crowd.  The production is loud but crisp, a smooth and easy listen that belies the depth of its running time.  Flying Colors has done this right, and other bands considering a live production should take examples from what they hear here.

Album Review: Kari Rueslatten - To The North

Last year, I reviewed Kari Rueslatten's return to the music scene, which was a record that I had no idea what to expect from. That album was a somber acoustic record,one with just enough pop tinge to make it an odd fit for any particular scene. It wasn't pop, it wasn't rock, and it didn't feel like a singer-songwriter record either. Whatever problems there might have been in classifying the music, it was an album that I found myself enjoying more than I would have thought. It wasn't like anything else I listened to last year, which is actually a point in its favor.

Since then, I will admit that I haven't listened to the record in quite a while. As more and more new things have come out, it just didn't grab me enough to stand out amidst the flurry of releases. But now, a year later, Kari is back with another new album, one that promises to be a bit darker.

"To The North" is inspired by the landscapes of her native land, which is something that I will have to reserve judgment on to those who have experienced them. I can only comment on the music itself. Opening with "Battle Forevermore", the atmosphere is set early on. With soft sounds, and a lilting pace, Kari's music is a reflection of the darker, more somber side of the coin. The song takes a while to get going, but the second half picks up the energy just enough to feel alive, and the harmonized vocals buttress the melody beautifully. It's a song that you can't say is peppy, or engaging, but it's beauty shines through.

"Mary's Song" has more of a jazz feeling, in the way that Norah Jones early records were classified as such. It reminds me a great deal of that style, as Kari uses her voice to inflect every note of the song. The hook is subtle, but it's there if you're paying attention. It's a slow-burn of a song that could have used a bit more of a payoff at the end, but there is something calm about the track that makes it satisfying nonetheless.

Kari's classical training shines through on "What We Have Lost", the judgment of which will depend on your love of that style of singing. The song itself has a stronger melody than the first two, and has a more electric edge. But the vocals are what define the song, and I will admit that the couple of strongest classical flourishes are not my preferred style. The song is good, and Kari is clearly a talented singer, but I would have enjoyed a more straight-forward vocal myself.

Being so subdued, these songs have to be exceedingly sharp to pay off, and the writing isn't always up to the task. "Dance With The King" is fabulous, but "Three Roses In My Hands" is a folk song that just doesn't have enough of a melody to it. It's hard to pick out anything memorable in the song that is going to stay with you afterwards.


"To The North" is the kind of album that is perfect for putting on when you want to turn off the lights and relax. The atmosphere of the record is calm, warm, and will whisk you away to soft and inviting place. Like her previous album, however, it's a record that is more memorable for the sound and tone than the actual songs. That's not saying that there aren't good songs here, or that the record isn't enjoyable. For its purpose, "To The North" hits the mark far more often than it misses. I'm just not sure how often I'm going to want to pull this particular arrow out of my quiver.