Album Review: StormbounD - December

I nit-pick. I know I do, and maybe I shouldn't, but I can't help myself. Something about my brain sees something that looks off, and I have a hard time letting it go. Such is the case with this new album, where I'm confused why an album called "December" is being released in the middle of summer, but I'm also quite bothered by the band using an upper-case D at the end of their name. I don't get why the weird spelling. It won't even help with search-engine-optimization, so all it does is drive me nuts.

That's all unimportant, I know, but there is something to making a good first impression. The band and album's names are the first thing I knew of StormbounD, so if that was to raise more questions than answers, it starts us off on a weird footing.

When the album gets started, we're greeted by "Desert's Roar", introducing us to the band's symphonic metal and vocal blend. The orchestrations are a supporting player, popping up to give added color to the songs, but not driving things beyond the band's talents. The blend of Yael and Ofer's voices digs into the 'beauty and the beast' roles, trying to keep the songs from becoming too light and pretty. I'm not sold on his harsh vocals when they pop up, but his deeper clean tone works as a nice balance to Yael.

The band writes solid hooks, giving every song a strong melody to latch onto. The problem is that they almost use their success in that regard as an excuse for going the wrong direction in other places. The verses of "Sacred Lies" are awful. The guitars are trying to be thrashy, but they have too much buzz on them for the picking to be clearly heard. Ofer barks his way through the verses, with no melody to his delivery at all, caught in-between a scream and a growl. It's an uncomfortable sounding version of harsh vocals, and there's no way the song can recover. It was painful to listen to.

The ballad, "Away From Here", is definitely better, but even it has flaws. Yael's voice is the face of the band, so to speak, but she gets relegated to second-fiddle status on the song. There's also the fact the song is supposed to be a sweeping ballad, but it just doesn't hit the kind of emotional crescendo that pays off the build. They have heavy guitars and orchestrations, and yet the song doesn't come off 'big' enough.

As we listen to the rest of the album, the takeaway is that this is a debut album, for all that means. The band is clearly trying to find their footing, and they don't always have the necessary traction. There is talent here, as many of the hooks will show, but the whole package is needing a bit more polish. Personally, I think the harsh vocals are the first thing that need to go. The band is trying to prove their metal cred a bit too much, and those vocals aren't done well enough, or interestingly enough, to sound like a natural and necessary part of the music.

And so, StormbounD falls into the category of bands with as yet unrealized potential. I can definitely hear a bright future for them, but that will depend on what lessons they take from the experience of making this record. The pieces are there, but they have to figure out how to put them together. This version of the puzzle is as yet incomplete.

Album Review: Nordic Union - Animalistic

For as often as I grumble about the put-together groups that are coming out in a never-ending stream of mediocrity, there are occasionally those that rise above all that and work spectacularly. Few of those have been better than Nordic Union, the pairing of Eclipse mastermind Erik Martensson and Pretty Maids singer Ronnie Atkins. Ronnie's gritty voice was exactly what Erik's sugary songs always needed, and the two albums they made together are easily my favorite things either of them have done. I don't know if I would quite say they make up for all the similar projects that aren't as good, but they go a long way toward that goal.

Album number three comes as Ronnie continues to record as much music as he can, making the most of his time. None of that can be heard in the music, as Ronnie still sounds as he always has, anchoring these songs with a heaviness Erik can't achieve in any of his other projects. Both sonically and emotionally, Nordic Union is able to stretch melodic rock further than Eclipse can, and that means these songs are able to hit harder.

The guitars chug through songs like "This Means War" with a deep tone that brings in tinges of metal, and the balance between that heaviness and the melodic songwriting is what gives Nordic Union its strongest appeal. It's easy to be heavy, but plenty of AOR proves being that heavy while still writing catchy and memorable songs is not an easy task. So much of the latter is rock in name only, sounding so soft and fluffy it can almost put you to sleep. Nordic Union is a powerful beast, rolling over us not unlike the locomotive on the cover of their debut album.

The downside to all of this is the sense of familiarity. Erik has written enough songs now that many of his chord and rhythmic patterns find themselves popping up again and again, leaving bits of the album to sound interchangeable with the previous ones. That isn't entirely a bad thing, given how good those records are, but on the few songs that aren't quite as sharp, having a little bit of variety might help spice things up.

If anything, this album feels a bit less melodic and hooky than the previous ones. "Last Man Alive" is classic Nordic Union, and is damn infectious, but some of the tracks in the middle of the record are happy to take a more subdued approach on the melodic front. It doesn't harm the experience listening to the album, but I do get the sense this is a record where the cream will stick in my head, as opposed to the previous records, where damn near every song took turns doing that.

Let's not get lost among the weeds here. I'm nit-picking because that's what I'm supposed to be doing. The fact of the matter is that Nordic Union is still a glorious burst of melodic hard rock, and even if this record isn't the bulls-eye the first two were, it's not missing the the center of the target by much. The bar is high enough, even sliding under it slightly has them well above all the other bands that can't stretch their necks upward at all.

While Ronnie was making his recent solo albums, I was hoping he would have the chance to make another Nordic Union album. Nothing against his solo work, but this is where he sounds most alive. What the future holds is unknown, but the present gave us this record, and that's a gift worth celebrating.

People Still "Make Believe" It Was Weezer's Lowest Moment

The Weezer fandom is one of the weirdest I have ever come across. They are dedicated to the band, despite being disappointed, angered, and outraged over nearly everything they have done over the last twenty-five years. The band makes gigantic mistakes, puts out records people are humiliated to listen to, and yet Weezer fans can't seem to quit the band. For whatever reason, no matter how much people feel let down, they continue to stand by their band.

The biggest flashpoint came with "Make Believe". After people were disappointed by "The Green Album", but ultimately came around to realize how great it was at achieving the intended goal (even if people hated that goal), "Make Believe" is the record where people never seem to have left behind the initial hate.

I, of course, am one of the few defenders of that record, even as I find myself wanting to distance myself from Weezer as a whole. The band has veered in and and out of 'dead to me' territory, and yet that has nothing to do with their most reviled album. So why do people hate it so much?

The answer to that is pretty simple; "Beverly Hills". Despite being a huge hit, I think we can all admit it's a pretty terrible song. Rivers lyrics are an abysmal ode to how great it is to be rich, the song is so simple it can be played with one finger on the fretboard, and his almost rapping cadence takes the wink-and-nod joke of "Buddy Holly" to ludicrous proportions. It's a song that should be a ridiculous parody of culture, showing how shallow and empty it all is.... except Rivers was being completely genuine. To open an album with an ode to wanting maids scrubbing your floors is exactly the sort of thing that makes Rivers so easy to hate. That the song is also absurdly repetitive and vapid only makes matters worse.

The album's other single, "We Are All On Drugs", didn't help matters. It's supposed to be a metaphor about our addictive personalities with regard to our phones, technology, and other assorted indulgences. That doesn't really come through when Rivers is screaming "we are all on drugs!" The other lyrics about Mercedes Benz's didn't help, once again shining too bright a spotlight on Rivers' nerdiness, and his complete failure to use slang without sounding like the biggest poser in the world.

"Freak Me Out" might be the most laughed about song, as it was written about being scared of a spider. It's a laughable subject for a song to be about, and fans made no efforts to hide their contempt. I think "Hold Me" suffered a similar fate, sounding so desperate and clingy that it bordered on pathetic.

But let's be honest here; Rivers has always been a terrible lyricist. People thought him using the word "homies" made him clever, and that name-dropping Kerouac made him smart, but they were little details hiding in a sea of teenage poetry. By the time "The Green Album" came out, and you tried to decipher just what the heck "Hash Pipe" was about, it was clear Rivers was putting almost no effort into his writing.

It's funny that "Make Believe" is a more honest record than either "The Blue Album" or "The Green Album", because that means it is closest in spirit to "Pinkerton". It seems no one liked that Rivers was meditating, and trying to be a more present person, because "Make Believe" did what people had been wanting from him. We were seeing more of Rivers' true self once again. And this time, when he wasn't as miserable as the people listening to the records, they felt abandoned.

But with all of that negativity, I still find myself defending "Make Believe" more than most people. When you start from the position that Rivers is a terrible lyricist, and you know going in that he's going to annoy you the whole time with terrible lines, you can focus on his knack for writing catchy songs. That's what he delivers pretty well throughout the record. "Beverly Hills" is insufferable, but it's also sticky like a driveway on a hundred degree summer day.

"Pardon Me" has all the chord changes that made "Falling For You" an old favorite, he sings "Peace" with more passion than just about anything he ever did outside of his misanthropic years, and "Perfect Situation" is such a perfect song that it can survive even without a chorus. Even the spider-centric "Freak Me Out" is a mellow song whose melody would be absolutely beautiful if you weren't laughing at everything Rivers was singing. And then there's the closing "Haunt You Every Day", which is a more powerful version of "Only In Dreams", showing a side of Rivers other than the frustrating wannabe rock star.

Sure, "Make Believe" is a deeply flawed record. I would never say it wasn't, but let's also look at what followed. "The Red Album" was spiraling out of control, "Raditude" still can't be explained, and "Hurley" felt like a joke even before it was released. Maybe "Make Believe" is looked at as the start of Weezer's darkest days, but if I'm drawing the line, it sits on the right side of it. "Make Believe" has far more in common with the band's first three albums than what would come after.

Perhaps "Make Believe" was a poor ending to Weezer's best chapter, but the sound is unmistakable. If you listen to the record in that context, and you can ignore Rivers as much as possible, I don't think there's much difference between this record and the far more accepted "Maladroit". They're sort of sister records, and I don't think either one is the evil twin.

No one loves "Make Believe", and I'm not going to say I do either, but it's far from the train-wreck people make it out to be. Weezer's entire career is sort of playing Russian Roulette with the gun pointed down. Sometimes the gun goes off, and they shoot themselves in the foot. I don't think this was a direct hit.

My Top Twenty Albums Ever (2022 Version)

Every few years, it's interesting to sit down and see how taste changes as we age. While we tend to hold consistency up as a sign of moral clarity, it's foolish to rely on an answer simply because it has always been the answer. Facts change, and so do opinions. There is nothing to feel shame about in acknowledging that who we are now is not who we once were, and the music we favor now isn't always going to be the same music that fueled our youth. Trying to adhere to some old perception of who we were for no other reason than to avoid charges of having changed our minds is a dangerous form of self-delusion.

We might be the same people we were, but we are not the same. As such, it's only natural that we look back on a lifetime of music from different angles, depending on where we are in life. The light coming through the prism shines a different color from each vantage point, and so too do records sound different from each stage of life.

As I sit down to this task yet again, my thinking has moved in the direction of my actual listening. I don't want to put records on the list because they have always been there, or because I have some esoteric assessment of why they are great. I want to reflect what are 'the classics' of my life, but I also want to give proper due to the albums I find myself still listening to regularity. The albums I can't get enough of, despite having heard them so many times, should be the ones rising up the ranks.

That was the aim, and that was the reasoning behind the biggest decision I've ever made in assembling these lists. But we'll get to that in a bit.

-ish. Kelly Clarkson - Breakaway

Apparently, this is my favorite pop record. It's also why I try to never discount the means an artist might undertake to generate a name for themselves. She may have started on a reality show, but this album showcased her as an unbelievable voice, who at least for that moment in time had exquisite taste in picking the right songs to sing. I think this is also why I hate pop today.

-ish. Alyson Avenue - Presence Of Mind

European AOR isn't a genre I'm all that fond of, as a lot of it can be too soft an fluffy. But with saturated guitars and Anette Olzon's cutting voice, this album is a melodic gem. It's just pop enough, just rock enough, and jam packed with unforgettable songs.

-ish. Bruce Dickinson - The Chemical Wedding

Iron Maiden are legends, but I have always preferred Bruce's solo trilogy to anything they have done. This album is the crowning achievement, a monumental slab of crushing metal with soaring melodies, and a poetic undercurrent that puts it on an intellectual level we don't often hear from this kind of music. It's drama at its finest.

-ish. Dan Swano - Moontower

The greatest death metal album ever, and quite frankly, probably the only one I ever need to listen to again. With it's approach often described as 'Rush meets death metal', it turns the conventions of the genre on its head, and throws in the best melodies ever growled. Swano's performance puts nearly every harsh vocalist in history to shame, and he soured me on all those who can't rise to his level.

-ish. The Jayhawks - Hollywood Town Hall

The Jayhawks, for a brief period, were the perfect combination of folk and fuzz. They shouldn't have worked the way they did, but the blend of Gary Louris and Mark Olsen, both as singers and guitar players, found the gaps where black and white can sit side-by-side without blending into grey. It's Americana at its absolute best.

Those are the records that just missed the cut, for various reasons. Several of them have been on previous iterations, and the only factor relegating them to this stature is my having not listened to them as often as those that will come later. They are fantastic records, but circumstances of mood have led to them being less present in my listening habits. My opinion of them hasn't changed any, and I could easily make a case for any of them over some that rank above them. This is all based on momentary feelings, after all.

20. Dave Matthews Band - The Lillywhite Sessions

My first pick is controversial, since it isn't an actual album. Still, I'm going with it, because writing about it for the twentieth anniversary last year reminded me of how important this collection of songs has been. I have been listening to this more in the last few months than I had in years, and it still kills me.

19. Halestorm - Vicious

The newest entry on the list is an interesting case. Do I think it's their best album? I'm not sure if I do, but it's the one I find myself putting on more than the rest. The songs that get to me are just too good, and there are moments when Lzzy's voice tears right through me.

18. Graveyard - Hisingen Blues

I often say I don't understand the blues, which is true, but listening to this album is one of the few times I think I could.

17. Elvis Costello - King Of America

Somber and simple, I love how this record is able to feel honest, even if it isn't, simply by stripping away the facade of the character. I still find great inspiration in the craft.

16. Edguy - Tinnitus Sanctus

Of all the power metal in all the gin joints.... wait, that's not right. What is right is that this black sheep continues to be the power metal with the strongest legs, the one album I keep going back to. It's fun without being silly (most of the time), and it feels like it actually matters, which not a lot of power metal can do.

15. Killswitch Engage - The End Of Heartache

This album defines an entire genre, and even though I never went much deeper, it also defines a period of time in my life. I vividly remember the first times I heard this record, how I was struggling to understand it, and how it eventually made all the sense in the world. I've long thought the 2009 album was better, but I find myself gravitating back toward this one lately.

14. Meat Loaf - Bat Out Of Hell

One of the first albums I ever owned on cassette (ugh), I always thought it was crucial, but flawed. What I discovered over the last year, with the deaths of Jim Steinman and Meat Loaf, is those supposed flaws have mellowed with time, and now the album is to me the classic it has always been to everyone else. It still gets trumped by its sequel (spoiler alert), but the gap is closing.

13. Fall Out Boy - From Under The Cork Tree

Maybe I just love puns? I never had an emo phase, per se, but I've had more of a relationship with it lately than I did when it was at its peak. There are other albums that fit that mold, and give me the same feeling, but none of them do it with quite the power and panache of this one. They sing, "you're a classic, like a little black dress." How true.

12. Green Day - Warning

My prime example of an addictive album. I got through waves where I won't listen to this for a long time, and then I will put it on half a dozen times in a week. There is something to Green Day's take on classic power-pop (that's what it is - let's be honest) that feels as vital as a cup of coffee in the morning. The blood may not be pumping, but it's flowing, which is more my speed.

11. Black Sabbath - Heaven & Hell

You'll notice I'm not, at my heart, really that much of a metal person. This album is, almost always, my pick for the best metal album ever made. Ronnie James Dio is incredible, but there was something about the combination of his persona with Tony Iommi's riffs that was magical. I can pretend I'm a headbanger.

10. Matchbox 20 - Yourself Or Someone Like You

As I've mentioned before, I can remember the exact scene when I knew I needed to get this album. Twenty-five years later, things came full circle, and that connection was too strong for me to ever think "Mad Season" is the more important album to me. They were never cool, but neither was I, and I still feel the same as I did when I first was listening to this one.

9. Graham Colton Band - Drive

Thanks to the old days of mislabeled files, I found myself listening to Graham Colton. He wrote one of my favorite songs ever (which doesn't seem to exist anymore), but it's the one and only album he made with his band before trying to be a pop star that echoes on through time. If a facsimile can still be a masterpiece, this would be the proof.

8. Dilana - InsideOut

As if I needed to say more than "Falling Apart" is my favorite song of all time, this album is a rollercoaster of sounds and emotions, which culminates in the memory of finding purpose. I wouldn't say this is when I found religion, but if anything has ever made me spiritual, it would be her.

7. Graveyard - Lights Out

An album I have routinely called a 'time machine', this one lets me feel what it must have been like for those classic rock fans who can't shut up about how everything has sucked since 1979. It's a simple album that strips the music down to the basics so we can be amazed at how much can be built from so little. It's one of the most amazing feats of rock and roll I've heard.

6. Tonic - Head On Straight

I've always loved this record, but it wasn't until I started to pay attention to my listening that I realized just how often I still reach for this one. Other than "Irish", I could listen to this record practically every day without ever growing tired of it. At times, I have.

5. Dilana - Beautiful Monster

I've already said everything I can say about this record, at least until its anniversary comes up and I need to find new words. So far, I haven't done any better than saying Dilana's voice resonates at the same frequency as my soul, and it's never been a stronger phenomenon than here.

4. Tonic - Lemon Parade

Maybe I stuck to my guns too long with this one, and I simply didn't want to admit it could no longer balance on the sharp tip that is the apex. What I realized recently is that for as much as I love this record, I don't have the same gut-level response to it I do with many others. Often, I want to feel something, and that's not what Tonic is necessarily for. Tonic is for when I want to remember why I became a musician myself.

3. Meat Loaf - Bat Out Of Hell II

When I talk about getting 'swept up' in music, this album is the one that best embodies that feeling. It always has. I can put it on, and whether I'm transported back to being a kid or I'm looking back as an adult, something about Jim Steinman's songs transports me somewhere else. It's sort of funny how someone so obsessed with Peter Pan was able to write an album that sort of stops time when I listen to it.

2. The Wallflowers - (Breach)

The more time that passes, the more I find myself understanding what I want out of music. This record, more and more, checks all the boxes. It defines an entire side of my personality, and no matter how many times I listen to some of the poetry in these songs, they still sparks new images in my mind.

1. Jimmy Eat World - Futures

My answer to this question had been the same for over twenty years, but when I look at myself now, this is the album that I see hanging around as my aura. There have been countless cold and rainy days where my mind was wandering into the darker recesses, and the only album that felt right to listen to was this one. Nothing else hits the spot the same way as the perfect blend of sugar masking bitter undertones. That sums me up, in some ways, so perhaps this was an inevitable conclusion.

Singles Roundup: Nordic Union, Ozzy, Taylor Swift, & Ascendia

Let's dip into the pool of new singles once again.

Nordic Union – In Every Waking Hour

I was excited to hear a new Nordic Union album was on the way. Of the projects Erik Marensson is involved in, this is the one that has satisfied me the most. His sugary writing being paired with Ronnie Atkinson's gravelly voice is perfect in a way Eclipse can't be, and they come out of the gates with another winner. They straddle the line between rock and metal, as does Ronnie's voice. That's true both of the music and the vocals, and it explains why this works so well. What could be a fluffy little AOR song sounds so much more powerful, and it's that power drilling it into our heads. They haven't failed yet.

Ozzy – Patient Number Nine

I know, I know, I shouldn't even be talking about this. I hate Ozzy as much as ever, and there's no way I'm going to say he sounds anything more than alive as a vocalist here, but I am rather surprised to find the song itself isn't so bad. No, it doesn't really sound that heavy, and it isn't befitting the 'Price Of Darkness', but it's far better than the material he was putting out in the Zakk Wylde era. If anyone else was singing it, I might just recommend this one.

Taylor Swift – Carolina

Oh Taylor, all good things come to an end. "Folklore" is absolute genius. "Evermore" was still really good. Continuing on that path for this new song has gone further than ever into the sparse folk sound, and what got removed was all of the interesting Taylor-ish melodies. The sound is the same, but there's so little to the composition here, I was zoning out even before the first chorus hit, which was not nearly strong enough to bring me back. The winning streak is over already, as Taylor can no longer make indie sound interesting.

Ascendia - This War

It's been quite a while since Ascendia put out their one and only album, which was one of the best albums that somewhat fell under the prog-metal umbrella of that time. With amazing songs and strong baritone vocals, they were something unique. That record is still fantastic, so having them finally return should be a welcome development. Well.... this song doesn't sound anything like that Ascendia. Gone is the melodic approach in favor of something more modern and hard-hitting. Even the vocals don't sound the same, almost as if they're being sung an octave higher. I don't get this at all. Everything I loved about them is gone, and this replacement sounds almost generic. What a shame.

Album Vs Album: Pinkerton vs Futures

Being an album that defines a generation is a burden, as well as a gift. While it ensures the album will live on in the public consciousness as time goes on, it slows or outright stops the process of re-contextualizing the album for the next group of fans to explore the music. What spoke to one generation is not guaranteed to have the same effect on the next, but sitting atop a golden pedestal puts those records out of reach, beyond the scope of criticism. While a negative attitude toward an album is nearly always viewed as being needlessly contrarian, taking that negative turn against an album of such importance can almost feel like heresy.

For people coming of age in the mid to late 90s, especially those who were outsiders or otherwise 'weird', Weezer was a revelation. Their emergence on the scene was the beginning of 'nerd culture' becoming a part of the mainstream, with "Buddy Holly" capturing the awkwardness of being unpopular, uncool, and unable to use modern slang in a way that didn't elicit laughter. Hearing Weezer was a signal to those people they weren't alone, they weren't as weird as they thought themselves to be, and they didn't have to hide who they were.

But we aren't here to talk about Weezer's "Blue Album". That record was the first statement, but Weezer's true importance to that generation came with their next record, which for many people opened the door to the music we now call 'emo'. It was the first time many heard such detailed expressions of pain and frustration, the first time many heard themselves reflected in the music they were listening to.

"Pinkerton": As far back as I can remember, this album has been the cherished north star of nerd culture. Both a commercial and critical failure, "Pinkerton" nevertheless hit people in their souls, speaking to them in a way no hit record ever could. Rivers Cuomo was in crisis as he wrote the songs that would make up the album. He was suddenly famous, his plan for a sci-fi concept album was not coming together, and he had enrolled in Harvard while going through painful physical rehabilitation. It was a recipe for bitter and angry music, as his existential crises stripped away whatever filter had (or should have) been put between his mind and his pen.

What so many love about "Pinkerton" is how it sounds like Rivers' journal being put to music. The lyrics tell of the frustrations of being rejected, dotted with detailed observations of his life as he went through out-of-body experiences. The stream-of-consciousness lyrics of "El Scorcho", where Rivers describes watching underground wrestling on television, are treated as a fit of artistic genius. They are not, but the level of detail isn't the real issue at hand.

Rivers Cuomo has always been a master at one thing; writing hooky songs that figure out the earworm formula. "Pinkerton" is no different than his "Blue Album" in that regard. The sound may be dirty and dingy, but the melodies on "Across The Sea", "Pink Triangle", and "Falling For You" are classics for a reason. Rivers the musician was in full flight during this period, not yet jaded enough by success to have given up trying. There's an obvious reason why "Pinkerton" spoke to so many people.

Unfortunately, how it spoke is the problem. Rivers the musician was on top of his game, but Rivers the lyricist was not. Beyond his chronicling of the mundane, "Pinkerton" is a catalog of toxic attitudes, all directed at the women in (and not in) his life. Rivers reduces women to a list of sexual conquests, uses domestic violence as a metaphor, lusts over a barely legal girl, blames his mother, pleads for a lesbian to sleep with him anyway, and conjures a rape fantasy. I have explored all of this in more depth here, but the legacy of "Pinkerton" is not complete without understanding how so many people who would now be labeled as 'incels' have grown up listening to Rivers casually and thoughtlessly tossing out so much misogyny.

"Futures": Coming out nearly a decade later, when Weezer's influence in promoting emo culture had already come and gone, Jimmy Eat World was speaking to a new generation of outcasts. "Bleed American" was a "Blue Album" for that next group of fans, crossing over to the mainstream to introduce emo to people who were going to need it. That record would become entwined with 9/11 as the title was stripped away in the wake of that day, and while the parallels are far from exact, the band's newfound stature, combined with the trauma of that event, were not altogether foreign from the mindset that gave rise to "Pinkerton".

Both albums deal with youth, and the confusion between love and lust when the concepts haven't solidified to a point we can understand. The difference is in attitude. Rivers felt sorry for himself on "Pinkerton", blaming everyone other than himself for his predicament. "Futures", on the other hand, has no blame to be cast. Jim Adkins realizes in his lyrics that bad situations sometimes happen no matter what we intend, and holding on to whatever good we can find in the moment is sometimes the best we can do.

The songs on "Futures" are heavier than anything on "Pinkerton", both emotionally and sonically. The production of the record is immaculate, the guitars thundering, and Adkins' voice soaring with the clarity to reveal every ounce of pain he's putting into the performance. The heavy songs are powerful, bristling with angsty energy and propulsive hooks, while the softer songs swell with emotion, feeling as soft as the velvet lining for our emotional caskets. Adkins songs admit the drugs and women involved aren't the long-term answer to happiness, but they get him through this day to the next, so they are as important as the love he hopes to find one day.

When he implores at the end of the record, "don't take away the ending, the one thing that stays mine", it is both the optimistic turn telling us we can still control our story, and ultimately the most depressing thought we can have. The only thing we control is tomorrow, because we can never escape the past.

Reaching a verdict here is easy. "Pinkerton" was a vitally important record to me, as it was for so many others, but the years have not been kind to it. It's difficult to look back with any degree of fondness on a record that introduced so many toxic thoughts to impressionable listeners who weren't ready or able to wall themselves off from the messages. "Pinkerton" should be disqualified on that basis alone, but I don't need to do that. "Futures" is a record that grows deeper and more nuanced the more it's listened to. It's a healthier way of processing the issues involved in coming of age, without the biter aftertaste that doesn't let us forget what progress has been made. But this isn't just about lyrics. "Futures" is more compelling as a musical experience. It has more power, more shade and color, and just as much that will etch itself into your memory. Jimmy Eat World essentially took a flawed album, and made a better version of it in every way. Like "Pinkerton", "Futures" is often underrated and underappreciated, but the true fans know what a monumental record it is.

The Winner: "Futures", in each and every way.

Album Review: Oceans Of Slumber - Starlight And Ash

It's always interesting when a band leaves metal behind. Questions will arise as to why they did it, and whether the original or new sound is the band's 'true' identity, but I think it's important to remember that we are not static creatures. We live, and through that experience we change. Asking anyone to stay exactly as they were for the entirety of their lives is stupid. Sure, you have bands like Motorhead who do that, but we can also ask if that was just a cynical business ploy to give the fans what they wanted over and over again.

Oceans Of Slumber are leaving behind the vestiges of doom metal that percolated through their first two albums, now tagging themselves as 'New Southern Gothic'. There are still a few hints of the dark heaviness of doom, but the music is now more acoustic, more centered on bluesy folk, and more akin to a Southern take on where Opeth has been in recent years. I can hear similarities in some of the guitar arpeggios, but Oceans Of Slumber, despite their name, are far more lively in bringing this sound to life.

The key to that is, of course, Cammie Beverly's voice. She has a vocal power Opeth never has, and she injects her performances with more colors and shades. Her tone sits between your typical rock singer and a deep blues bellow, which makes her a perfect fit for this record. Where Opeth can sound sleepy doing this, Oceans Of Slumber are patiently biding their time to explode.

"Starlight And Ash" is a powerful album, but in a different way than you might expect. There are moments, like the chorus of "Hearts Of Stone", that are heavy, but they are heavy because of the dynamic swell they provide from the quiet verses. Like a horror movie using a jump-scare, the band plays with dynamics to let the songs ebb and flow, twisting and building into something far more interesting than if they were plodding big doom chords all the way throughout.

The metal fans won't like to hear this, but by leaving much of that behind, Oceans Of Slumber has a wider array of sounds and emotions they can play with. Metal can be rather limiting, and the volume of it can make it hard for songs to express or evoke much of an emotional response. The feeling I get from this record is that Oceans Of Slumber wanted that connection, both to the music and to the audience, and this was the best way for them to achieve that. It would have been easy to make another heavier record, to continue their upward trajectory, but they went down the less traveled road instead.

That being said, every change comes with growing pains, and there are a few here. For one thing, even though the songs largely stay in the 4-5 minute range, the pacing of them can sometimes make them feel even longer than that. The slow burns are effective, but when every song is doing that, the record feels like it could use a bit more energy dotted in to keep things moving along. The other thing is the cover of "House Of The Rising Sun" near the end of the record. That song is such a cliche of Southern music, and it's been done hundreds of times already, it doesn't add anything here the rest of the record hasn't already done. It doesn't surprise in any way.

What that means is that Oceans Of Slumber have changed course, and they're definitely headed in the right direction. This new sound fits them wonderfully, and they show the potential for the devastating emotional crescendos they will be capable of. What they need is a bit of time to fully grow into this identity, and to learn how to best exploit it. All the pieces are hear, and it makes for quite an interesting listen, but there is a bit more honing of the songs that needs to be done before the band reaches their final form. I believe they can do it, and when they do, it will be glorious.

This is the first step to that end.

Singles Roundup: Emerson Hart, Allen/Olzon, Avantasia, & Megadeth

Let's see if you can spot the theme for this week's collection of new singles.

Emerson Hart – I Look For You

Across Emerson's solo work, a trend has been developing. With each release, his songs have been getting more subdued and more subtle. As he has further differentiated between his solo work and Tonic, it has gotten a bit more difficult to embrace them both. This song is an example of that, as it sounds like a classic Emerson Hart song, until you stop and realize the chorus of the song is the quiet part, the bridge is the only bit with some energy, and the song's biggest hook is the instrumental bit. It isn't a song that hooks you in at all, proving to be maybe a bit too subtle, at least as the first single promoting a new EP is concerned. I still enjoy it, but it doesn't have the power "To Be Loved" had last year.

Allen/Olzon – Army Of Dreamers

Following an album that came in at #2 on my list (though it should have been #3 in retrospect) isn't easy, and this song proves it. It's classic Magnus Karlsson songwriting, and both Russell and Anette sound great, but does it measure up to their first album? Honestly, no, and that's mainly because the mix fails on what was the best thing about this project. This song is one of the duets, but Anette's voice is put so much higher than Russell's in the chorus that we're missing the blend that was so magical. Just righting that little wrong would make this so much better.

Avantasia – The Moonflower Society

I wasn't all that fond of the first single Avantasia released, and I'm not sure how fond I am of this one either. It's certainly better, as it leans less heavily on the power metal cliches, but there's an overpowering feeling of familiarity that is bothering me. There are at least three bits in the song that feel more than reminiscent of past songs Tobi has written. It almost feels like an intentional reel of some favorite old moments, but I know that's not what was going on. It may be a sign of a creative malasise (which we all go through), and that's very worrying.

Megadeth – We'll Be Back

I've never been much of a Megadeth fan, and this song reminds me of why. Fans will absolutely love it, but not me. He thrashes through guitar riffs, and snarls his trademark vocals (for whatever they're worth), but it's not much of a song. The chorus of the song is incredibly flat, and rather boring, followed up by the song stopping entirely for a second before it jets off in another direction. Even if I liked the pieces, it feels like lazy songwriting to not have some sort of transition there. But that's sort of what Megadeth always was. It's always been a band about guitar playing, where Dave lucked his way into a couple of good melodies over the decades. Now that he doesn't have those anymore, the band has almost no appeal to me.

EP Review: Yours Truly - Is This What I Look Like?

Yours Truly was already on my radar with their first two EPs. I don't remember how I came across "Too Late For Apoogies", but it quickly became one of the few EPs to make a real impression on me. I loved their sound, and Mikaila's strident voice, and by the time they released "Afterglow", I was already saying they were one of the new bands to watch. They had the potential to become one of the shining stars in our musical sky, a southern cross guiding our way.

"Self Care" was what I had been waiting for, a full-length album that showcased more facets of the band's sound. It was everything I could have hoped for, updating the sound of pop-punk with more emotion and introspection. It was my clear-cut Album Of The Year, and it elevated Yours Truly exactly the way I envisioned. But what's interesting is how they are choosing to follow up on that success, which comes in the form of this new EP. The band is getting a bit more experimental with these songs, and they're giving us only a bite-sized taste of their next chapter. Is that enough?

I'm not sure how to answer that question, because I can make the case for both 'yes' and 'no'. Let's take those one at a time.

The answer is 'no', because EPs rarely feel like complete musical statements to me. Even with seven songs, the experience is over fast enough that I keep thinking there is more of this current mindset that needs to be said. The band explores this new sound, but I'm not sure if they have dug deep enough to fully get to the bottom of it. These songs take on a different aura, turning down some of the harder rock influences in favor of a more modern and rhythmic approach. The hooks don't rise as high, the riffs don't hit as hard. The songs are a bit more subtle, preferring to ingratiate rather than burst through the door.

Because of that, I need to hear more. With a few more songs, I would better understand the how and why of the shift in tone, and perhaps the result would alter my reaction to the music. Something similar happened with Halestorm, where I didn't fully understand the shift they made with "Into The Wild Life" until I heard "Vicious" three years later. It took me two albums to fully embrace that change, and I'm thinking the same is true here, and I'm not going to completely buy-in to what Yours Truly are doing until I hear what comes next.

The answer is 'yes', because I'm not sure if I want a full album of this new style. I still like what Yours Truly are doing, and they are doing it well, but I don't connect with it the same way I did the songs on "Self Care". With the change in guitar style, I miss the power of the heavy chords. The backdrop isn't as powerful, which undercuts some of Mikaila's singing. She can't go all out the same way, which hinders the emotional resonance of her voice. They write songs about issues, and getting past them, and these songs don't have the same outpouring of her soul (in audible form) I heard before.

So this EP leaves in an uncomfortable place, where I definitely like what they are doing, but I can't say it isn't a disappointment when compared to what they had been doing before. The band started high, and rose even higher, but this EP feels like a step back down. Perhaps that is necessary, and the next great chapter simply can't be reached in a straight line from where they were, but this detour isn't quite the road I want to go down.

This is a case where good is overshadowed by great. What a thing to complain about, huh?

"Cigarettes & Gasoline" & Time

When you're young and you have a limited collection of music to listen to (a reality people will never know again - thanks, streaming), every record becomes absolutely vital. I can't begin to count how many times I listened to those first albums I got, and that does bring in questions of whether I loved them because I love them, or if I loved them because they were all I knew. In the end, it doesn't matter how things came to be, because knowing the past doesn't change it. Even if time machines existed, the past would remain the past, or else the very conditions that led to the time machine's existence would not have happened. I'm getting a bit too deep here, aren't I?

By the time I was expanding my horizons, there was one truth about music I had settled on; Tonic was my favorite band. It wasn't a linear development, but by the time they took a break after "Head On Straight", there was no other band who meant more to me. They are responsible for me being a musician, and for what the last twenty years have meant to that entire facet of my identity. I learned the ropes of writing songs from Emerson Hart, so when Tonic was put on the back-burner for a solo career, I was not heartbroken. Writers are often more important than the particular path they are taking, and if a schism was going to happen, it would be for other reasons.

This chapter was introduced with the single, "If You're Gonna Leave", which is the one song from his solo career Emerson says he could have been a Tonic song. He is right about it fitting with the band, but I would disagree with him about it being alone in that category. Even on just this record, there are several others that could have fit the same bill. Perhaps our perception is driven in part by his desire to separate himself from the band's identity at that time, and my desire to keep them tied together.

The other aspect to that differing view is that, at the time, I was not attuned to what we now would call a 'songwriter's album'. Those collections of songs that were meant to showcase the range and variety of an artists' tastes and abilities were an integral part of the 70s that Emerson was influenced by, but were not a part of the music scene I was privy to. Not knowing any better, I perhaps heard something different than what was intended. There are times when not being astute and knowledgeable has its advantages, and that may have been one of them.

When I got the album, those two most Tonic sounding songs were the ones that captured my attention. "If You're Gonna Leave" and "I Wish The Best For You" were the most familiar songs, and were obvious choices to be the songs used to bring listeners in. Emerson has always been a simple songwriter, but without the layers of guitars Tonic used to build soundscapes, it was made more apparent. Let's get one thing out of the way right now; when I say Emerson's songwriting is simple, that is in no way a criticism. Simple songs are actually the hardest to write, because they don't have superfluous elements to distract us if the core composition isn't strong enough. When you have a song that is little more than a strummed chord pattern and a melody, it has to be great on its own. Those are the songs that separate a great songwriter from one who uses the studio to make themselves sound like one.

Having heard Emerson playing those songs with just an acoustic guitar and his voice, there's no doubt how good they are. But those are the easy songs to explain, because they are essentially Tonic songs, if the band was being played on 70s AM radio. What was more interesting was hearing the songs like "Devastation Hands" and "Flying", which were fully immersed in a much older sound than I was used to. Emerson's voice anchored them to what I already knew, and the elements of classic rock that dominated "Lemon Parade" had already served as a harbinger of where things could end up. Without knowing it, the move on this record had always been hinted at.

"I Know" is one of the most interesting songs, mixing the record's most guitar-focused sound with a composition rooted in power-pop. It was a new wrinkle, but it felt familiar at the same time. So too did the skittering rhythm of "Friend To A Stranger" and the programmed percussion of the title track, which closed the record with the biggest diversions from the artist we knew. Their placement at the end of the record stood out as perhaps an arrow pointing to what the future would be, but that turned out not to be the case. They were curious songs, experiments that could not have been attempted if group consensus was required.

Despite being simple, "Cigarettes & Gasoline" is a daring album, because it left behind the pretenses of a rock band for something far intimate and personal. This is the first time we really felt like we knew who Emerson was as a person. Both the lyrics about his family, and the variety of sounds he used to tell them, revealed more than he could with Bob Rock cranking the amps as he did on "Head On Straight".

My lasting memories of the record are three-fold. First, there are those songs that have played in my mind countless times over the last fifteen years, sounding as much a part of me as a part of Emerson. Second, my horizons were opened up by the nature of the record, and what it told me was out there I had not yet experienced. Third, no matter how many times I have listened to "Vanity" over the years, I still hear a blank instant where I swear the keyboard is making a mistake and trying to correct itself before the take gets cut off by the producer. It's the sort of little moment you would think would ruin the song, but instead it makes it impossible to forget.

A few years later Tonic would reconvene, and they would put out another album I love just as much. But if you ask me which album is more special, and which album means more to me, it would be "Cigarettes & Gasoline". By wading into new waters, it stands apart as something unique, and it's things that are unique we learn the most from. Fifteen years later, I'm still figuring that out.