Album Review: Sons Of Silver - Runaway Emotions

There are certain artists who are singular, who you seldom hear anyone try to sound like, because doing so is to invite comparisons you will never live up to. Or, perhaps it's because some sounds are so idiosyncratic they can't be replicated on the regular. Bruce Springsteen is one of those people you often see listed as an influence, but don't often hear in the style of those who include his name. The Gaslight Anthem is one of the few times when the connection is obvious, and I think it may have worked against them more than anything after the initial surge of attention their debut album received.

When your sound is reminiscent, it's hard for the mind not to slip back to the memories of what we already know. Given how nostalgia works, and anything new having to dig through extra layers of time, it becomes a science of futility to seek what has already been found.

Sons Of Silver are in that boat, with this debut album evoking the memory of "The Rising" era Bruce Springsteen at nearly every turn. There are instances where an entire song's feel is borrowed, and other times when it's merely the vocal tone uttering a 'sha na na' that carries the haunting feeling of familiarity. In either event, what it means is that I cannot hear this record without thinking about Springsteen, "The Rising", and how much that record has grown in my esteem over these last few years.

Springsteen himself would never follow that record with anything that hit with the same impact. In fact, the only record of his I liked after that one was "Magic", which was a light-hearted romp through 60s pop, and not at all the weighty rock and roll that tugged on our hearts. Sons Of Silver are taking up a task too difficult for even The Boss, so how do they do?

That's a difficult question to answer, to be honest. They nail the tone of the album. There's a bit of darkness creeping in around the edges, but the melodic base stays in tact. The guitars have crunch, but pluck out nearly spy movie lines to keep our ears perked. The vocals are weary, but rarely rise to the gravelly roar Springsteen would punctuate his songs with. The writing is solid, but features a bit more repetition and nonsense syllables than the songwriter in me would ever allow myself to include.

Sometimes, it's the little details in songs that make all the difference. "Baby Hang On" is the most classic rock and roll bop of the album, but it's sung with a filter on the vocal, and that stops the chorus from being able to shine and stand out. It's a bit like putting a blanket over the speaker of a great pop song. You'll still hear the melody, but it will be flatter and duller than if we let the whole thing ring out. Those sorts of things need to be used with discretion, and for effect, and it goes too far here.

That song is followed by "Ghosts", which features a repetitive chorus that never feels melodic at all. Together, they form a low point in the middle of the record that turns it into an inverted bell curve. Perhaps we can consider it a roller coaster instead, where the momentum of the beginning has to be enough to carry it back up the next climb. I don't think it quite manages that feat, which is a shame.

The band has managed to build a great sound, and there are songs here to tell me they have it in them to make a great record, but this one isn't that. There are moments that could have been, but the record can't maintain that standard through the whole of its running time. With a bit more 'pep', a bit more focus, and some extra words to fill the spaces the vocals just make noise, I would be saying something different. This album is a nice little start to the year, but the potential was there for it to be more than that.

It took me two decades to fully appreciate "The Rising" for what it is. Maybe that leaves the door open for "Runaway Emotions" to grow on me by the time this year ends. We'll have to wait and see.

What If? Following Up "Bat Out Of Hell"

One of the most confounding bits of pop philosophy is our ability to put our consciousness to the worst use, asking ourselves in nearly every situation, "What if?".

If we believe in multiverse theory, the answer to the question is that any scenario we conjure has indeed come to pass, merely in a time and place we cannot see the result. If we are grounding ourselves in this reality, the answers will never be anything but untestable hypotheses, the sorts of guesses we argue about with a terrifying level of fervency. We talk as if an argument can be made so persuasively that an alternate history is undeniable by anyone with half a working brain. It's foolishness on our part, and yet our desire not to live in the darkest timeline encourages us to take on these tasks in the search for a way of understanding the world that makes the inevitable feel like a choice instead of a fate.

Knowing this, I still find myself asking that very question sometimes. When it comes to events from my personal life, I have long come to the conclusion that any decisions I could have made would have led me into the same state of mind. While I don't believe in fate as a concept, I do believe there are immutable truths about ourselves we cannot change, or at least cannot give the appearance of change until we fully understand the costumes we must wear to do so. I did not have this knowledge until recently, so I see no way I could have taken a path that did not wind up exactly where I am. Every idea looks in hindsight like it would have been a bad idea.

We all know "Bat Out Of Hell" as the most unlikely album on the list of best-sellers. It is an absurdity that never should have worked, and yet it is one of those records that has endured for decades as a keystone to what life in that time was like. Following that album would always be a monumental task, but the failure that ensued would echo for an entire decade, wiped away only when an even more absurd comeback gave rise to our theory of the twenty year cycle of music.

Did it have to be that way? Could there have been an album Meat Loaf and Jim Steinman made that would have been enough of a success to change the course of history?

The answer to that seems obvious to me; no. By the time "Dead Ringer" came out, the world had moved on to the beginning of the digital 80s. Meat Loaf was already a relic of the past when "Bat Out Of Hell" came out, and he sounded even more out of place after the next decade set in. Another album mixing 50s rock and roll with Wagnerian opera and Broadway melodies was not going to stand up against the New Wave. Couple that with Meat's vocal issues that left him sounding like a shell of himself, and he could not have even recorded such an album if one was given to him. The deck was stacked, and he was probably always going to fall into obscurity.

The better question to ask is not whether Meat could have continued his chart success, but whether he could have made an album that cemented his legacy among his fans to such a degree that he and Steinman would not have spent so much time working apart. Would we look at Meat Loaf differently if he has put out back-to-back classics right from the start?

Jim Steinman had that album in him. It took four years of writing and waiting for Meat's voice to heal, but 1981 gave us a glimpse of what could have been. Meat Loaf released the disappointing (to most, not to me) "Dead Ringer", while Steinman was so fed up he recorded his own solo album, "Bad For Good". Between them, if things had been different, there is an album to be found that not only could have lived up to the legacy of "Bat Out Of Hell", but might have even been better.

We can start with the obvious choices. "Read 'Em And Weep" and "Rock & Roll Dreams Come Through" would both become hits later on. If even Barry Manilow can't make a song uncool, I believe that makes it undeniable. And while in this scenario we would never get the music video with a young Angelina Jolie, or the fragment of slap bass I have always loved, that trade-off would be worth it. Add to those the song "Dead Ringer", the duet with Cher that was a hit in European markets, and this imagined album would have had more radio potential than "Bat Out Of Hell" ever did.

We could have followed the pattern set by "Bat Out Of Hell" by opening with an epic statement. That would come in the form of "Bad For Good", which I consider the quintessential Steinman song. It is eight minutes of cheese and bombast, with guitar solos and pleas to the rock gods. When it did eventually get recorded by Meat, it was a pale imitation that only made me take up this mental task with more urgency. My imagination has only partially healed that disappointment.

We also have our multi-part melodrama in the form of "I'll Kill You If You Don't Come Back". Like "Paradise By The Dashboard Light", it starts as classic rock and roll before moving to a new section. This time, rather than the epic call and response that ends with wishing for death, we stay in high school drama as Steinman writes about the girls who find out the disappointment of spending so long building up what will only take a minute. It may not be the karaoke staple of its predecessor, but there is a resigned sadness that plays well against the fiery passion.

Then we get into the songs for the Steinman devotees among us. "Surf's Up" is one of Steinman's greatest songs, using a massive build-up and soaring guitar solo to mask the fact the song is about an erection. That is the heart of what makes great Meat Loaf music great Meat Loaf music, and it would have been one of those wonderful bits of insider trivia that elicits chuckles when it goes over the heads of casual listeners. And lest we forget, we could also include "Left In The Dark", which might contain the single best line Steinman ever wrote. "There are no lies on your body, so take off your dress/I just want to get at the truth." It is undeniably horny, certainly corny, and one of those bits that has echoed in my head for decades.

That gives us an album with a track listing such as this:

Bad For Good
Rock & Roll Dreams Come Through
Dead Ringer
Love And Death And An American Guitar*
Surf's Up
I'll Kill You If You Don't Come Back
Read 'Em And Weep
Left In The Dark

*spoken word

Those are all Steinman classics, and if they could have been sung in Meat's classic voice, make up an album I would choose over "Bat Out Of Hell". Despite being an institution, that album is flawed. "Heaven Can Wait" can sometimes drag, "All Revved Up With No Place To Go" is too old-fashioned for its own good, the baseball narration gets old on repeated listens, and "For Crying Out Loud" goes on too long with its false endings. "Bat Out Of Hell" truly is an album of four all-time great songs, and four that are more mid-tier.

This possible follow up does not have that problem. From beginning to end it would be the very best of Meat and Steinman.I can hear this record in my head, and it hurts to know it lives only there.

Of course, that leads us to the further question of what would have come after. We never would have gotten "Bat Out Of Hell II" as we know it, and perhaps the songs Steinman wrote and produced for others through the 80s ("It's All Coming Back To Me Now", "Total Eclipse Of The Heart", "Loving You's A Dirty Job", and "Making Love Out Of Nothing At All") would have all been Meat Loaf songs on yet more great albums.

I doubt that, though. After 1981, Steinman would only write one(ish) full album ever again. Despite success, or perhaps because of it, he began recycling his ideas in new permutations. I fear he did not have the songs left in him to continue the run for album after album. This imagined world does not give us more great music, just a different configuration of it.

So would it be a better world? Actually, I don't think it would. While the unnamed record would potentially be one of my all-time favorites, we would miss out on "Bat Out Of Hell II", and the songs that popped up on the other Meat Loaf records. We would also miss out on the 'lesser' songs from "Dead Ringer" and "Bad For Good", which are still worthy additions to their catalogs.

We can ask "What if?" all we want, but sometimes the answer turns out not to be any better. Maybe we are where we should be.

Album Review: Tremonti - The End Will Show Us How

We often talk about traits as being either good or bad, independent of the reality in which we live. A strong work ethic is a good thing, we say, even though there are time in which it isn't the best thing for us. That's the case in point today, as we address the new album from Tremonti. Between this project, Alter Bridge, and the reunited Creed, Mark Tremonti is nearly always hard at work on something. That is commendable, but when the cycle goes straight from one project to the next, with little to no time between them, the question needs to be asked whether this is in fact the best was of going about things.

Last year say Creed reunite and go out on a tour far more successful than it had any right to be. Seriously; does anyone else find it odd that Creed is more acceptably popular today than when they were actually at their height? Regardless, that tour was interspersed with the writing and recording of this new Tremonti album, which is coming out right as Alter Bridge is getting ready to write and record their next album. You see where I'm going with this, right?

Not only does that mean Tremonti never has a break for his creative muse to refuel, the constant churn is drawing the projects closer together with each passing album cycle. Tremonti sounds more like Alter Bridge which sounds more like Creed than ever before. There used to be a point to each of these projects being its own thing, but that is getting harder to discern. The songs all blend together, and it starts to become too much. I said the same thing about Myles Kennedy when his album came out last year, and I stand by it.

As the album opens, the initial songs bog down in the sludgier part of metal. The guitars are tuned so low the notes are slurs of distortion, while Tremonti's baritone adds no high end to the mix. The entire thing comes across sounding a bit dull and lifeless, because everything is sitting in the lower end of the register. A bit of brightness would liven things up, as my ears fatigue hearing nothing but bass frequencies for too long. Combined with the tempos, it doesn't get the momentum rolling in the right direction.

We hit the nadir with "It's Not Over", which is a slow burn that never ignites. The clean guitar arpeggios sit under a brooding vocal, and when the distortion kicks in... it barely kicks in. The entire song feels like it's waiting for the hook to come, but it never does. It's "Waiting For Godot", but without the meta-joke inherent in the premise.

The entirety of the album has that same feeling, where the songs never reach their top gear. They don't feel as powerful as they should when the band is hitting hard, and they don't feel as melodic as they should when the choruses come along. It's a very... subdued album for being as metallic as it is.

This where we could blame all the time spent playing Creed songs for the disappointment of this album, but I don't think that's fair. Creed actually had many songs that were more lively and engaging than these. I think it's more likely that Tremonti has simply written so many songs that the constant churn isn't producing the best results anymore. That has happened for so many artists, and I know for a fact some of them never admit it has happened. Tobias Sammet used to churn out albums every year, until he couldn't. Magnus Karlsson has written multiple albums every year, and now they're all mediocre. That's the route Tremonti seems to be on, and it's avoidable.

"The End Will Show Us How" is one of those albums that isn't bad at all, but there simply isn't anything about it that stands out, that I will remember, that I can say you need to hear. I hate to say it, but this album is a soundtrack to creative malaise. Knowing that Alter Bridge is already in the process of making their next album only makes this more difficult to listen to. It's not a harbinger of the future, is it?

I'm Almost Ready To Quote: "Thank You, Fuck You, Bye".

It was just last week that I wrote about the future of Bloody Good Music, and how I didn't know what it entailed. I was being honest then, and I'll be honest now.

Yesterday was a day that made me think about quitting.

Someone in a different corner of the musical world asked a question about the legacy of glam metal. I answered it harshly, yes, but truthfully. The best part of glam metal's legacy is that it was the last time we lionized rock 'stars' for being addicts, assholes, degrading women, and both the figurative and literal lusting for underage girls.

What I was met with was a response calling me an asshole for not focusing on the music, despite much of that music indeed being about getting drunk and treating women like garbage. But it went beyond that, because the poor grammar and lack of nouns in the response meant it could rightfully be read as insinuating I only cared about the last issue I listed because I already spend my time thinking about it.

Yes, really. This person may have accused me of that. I didn't stick around long enough to ask a follow-up and find out just how terrible they wanted to make themselves look.

The point of this isn't to garner sympathy, but to explain my seething rage. I have always kept an arm's reach between me and 'rock' and 'metal' as tags identifying my personality. It's for exactly this reason. Despite the outward appearance of those cultures being accepting and dedicated to sticking it to those in power, they are actually as conservative and unwelcoming as any group I have ever come across.

Look, I know I see the world differently than most people do. That was the lesson that kept me mired in depression most of last year. I understand that people aren't going to agree with me all the time, and I really don't care if they do. But I am beyond sick and tired of being part of a community where the people are not even decent anymore.

This isn't the first time such things have come up. A few years ago, Serious Black released an album with multiple songs calling the writer's ex a whore, and blaming her for everything that went wrong in his life. It was textbook misogyny, and the furthest thing from being a 'man'. I wrote about this multiple times, and I was the only person in the entire metal-adjacent world that noticed, let alone had any problem with the band's language and attitude toward women. When I brought it up on a forum, other people there literally cheered the band on for how they were treating her.

It was sickening then, and it's sickening now. I'm so goddamn tired of everything becoming a fight, when all I want it a bit of respect and decency.

It pisses me off when bands get away with treating women like disposable objects. It pisses me off when people pine for the old days when bands were literally writing songs about wanting to fuck children, let alone putting naked kids on their album covers. It pisses me the ever-loving fuck off when prominent metal 'journalists' laugh along with Ted Nugent as he calls people he doesn't agree with 'sub-human mongrels'.

Who are we? Apparently, the answer is that we are the lowest-common denominator. We are the worst of humanity not so slowly leaking out into the culture, all because people who don't understand what manhood actually is have gotten scared that their whims aren't catered to every minute of the day.

I'm done with it. I will never hold back from calling out the toxic aspects of rock and metal, but I have to admit that I'm just tired of being hated for doing it.

Yesterday, I seriously thought about quitting this pursuit. I realized that other than one or two friends who read words when I tag them, I've spent twelve years screaming into the vast void. No one hears what I say, and on those cases where I speak in a forum where people do, it makes me the pariah.

So why should I bother anymore? It's clear rock and metal fans want nothing to do with me, and I'm sick of them. Maybe the best thing for all of us is if I give up, admit defeat, and let them continue their circle-jerk.

It all seems fruitless when you're dealing with people who cannot understand that wanting a blowjob while insulting a woman for doing it is a self-defeating personality trait.

The 'State Of Bloody Good Music' Address

My fellow music fans...

This year was an odd one in every sense; personally, culturally, and musically. You may have noticed that manifesting in the work we do here, which underwent a few shifts in both tone and format. We covered fewer new albums than possibly ever, as the release schedule did not offer up as much fascinating new music for us to talk about. Some of the albums that did pique our interest did so in ways that didn't lead to in-depth discussion, so the 'Quick Reviews' series became more of a focus. It was a way of covering albums that didn't test our sanity by making us try to come up with 800 or 1,000 words to say something was merely adequate.

Statistically, this year saw me listen to the least new albums since we started out on this journey. The number has been declining for a couple of years now, and I fear it is a lagging indicator of an uncomfortable truth. My concern is that I have hit that proverbial wall, wherein I have heard so much music over the course of my life I don't have room for much more to occupy the important slots. That isn't to say there isn't still great music, or that I don't enjoy some new albums immensely, but I would be lying if I said more than two or three records from the last five years will even be a thought the next time I re-organize my list of all-time favorites.

What that has meant for you, the reader, is an increased focus on the esoteric and philosophical aspects of music. This autumn, I have been writing more about older records, and the way music and life interact as both cause and explanation. To be quite honest, that writing has been far more interesting to me than worrying about having thoughts for the latest melodic rock album that sounds like every other one. I am an over-thinker by nature, and the dearth or worthy new music has given me even more time than usual to dig into the depths of music's meaning.

I say all of this as preface for the future.

I don't know what the next year holds for us here at Bloody Good Music. By no means are we giving up, but I cannot make a promise that new albums will once again become the vast majority of what we talk about here. That will be up to the bands and artists, and is out of my control. I will discuss any record that catches my attention, but the days of having weeks with three new reviews may be a thing of the past. It isn't burnout in the sense that the work of writing is too much to handle, but rather an ennui that I don't have enough music I am feeling passionate about. I don't want to talk just for the sake of talking.

Instead, what seems likely is a continued mix of content. We will have our traditional new album reviews, and our roundup of the latest singles. We may venture back into making a few more lists of various topics, and hopefully we can manage a larger collaborative effort or two. I would also like the latitude to continue writing about the philosophy and sociology of music, because I think there are still things to learn about ourselves by taking time to examine the choices we make in soothing and entertaining ourselves. I have certainly been one who has made realizations through this kind of writing. They are perhaps more necessary now than ever.

We are at an inflection point, where many of the bands we have spent our lives listening to are slowing down if not over, and we are waiting for the next generation to take charge and demand our attention. I don't know if that divide will ever be bridged, or if perhaps music is beginning to pass me by. What I can say is that I will still be here chiming in where I can, and hopefully having something worth listening to.

I don't want to become one of those people who only talks about the past, but I also realize we may be the ouroboros beginning to swallow its own tail, re-setting the timeline. It will be interesting to see what that looks and sounds like.

Singles Roundup: Avantasia, Dream Theater, King Diamond, & The Darkness

The new year is about to begin, and that promises new albums, so let's see what teasers we have waiting in the queue.

Avantasia - Creepshow

It's been a while since Tobi put out a pure, fluffy pop song as the lead single for one of his records. I'm not sure if that is a harbinger of a more fun record this time, but I can only hope so, as the promised theme of dragons is not making the album seem all that attractive to me. I know fantasy and power metal go hand-in-hand, but it's never been my thing. That means this album will likely be a surface-level record, which is exactly what this kind of song is perfect for. The hook is quick and catchy, and even the high-pitched bit right before it kicks in fits with the creepy vibe. It's certainly a better effort than when he led off an album cycle by releasing "Lost In Space". This might not be his absolute best, but it's certainly good enough to keep hopes floating aloft for now.

Dream Theater - A Broken Man

Single number two from the Dream Theater reunion is even more disappointing than the first one. The band is clearly going for their most metallic approach, which is fine, except that it subsumes everything else. They have often talked about how they write the music first, and only then think about the vocals. Never has that been more clear than on this song, where the pounding riffs sit under vocals that are so flat I truly could not tell when the chorus kicked in. Only the second time the lyrics repeated did I realize that section was supposed to be the song's hook. Both songs so far have been far less melodic than during the band's previous chapter, and it's portending a record that is going to make music nerds ecstatic, and me rather bored and numb.

King Diamond - Spider Lilly

We've been promised a new album for what seems like a decade at this point, but now that a song exists, perhaps King Diamond has finally made progress on that. If so, he's got a lot to live up to, given how long this thing has been in the making. Judging by this song... it's a massive failure. So much time spent, and the song is basic chugging and hookless falsetto. It's also repetitive more than it should be for just four minutes, with guitar solos apparently meant to make up for everything King lacks these days. They don't, and this song is like one of those horror movies that thinks half an hour of nothing makes a jump scare more effective. All it does it bore the audience, which is what King is doing here. This is shaping up to be far worse than "Chinese Democracy" and it's delay.

The Darkness - I Hate Myself

After listening to "Permission To Land" several times this year to celebrate its anniversary, it's shocking to hear how bad The Darkness have been ever since. This new single barely rocks at all. It's more fifties rock than classic rock, with horns and a repetitive hook that is old long before the last chorus rolls around. What happened to the campy fun I remember? Instead of being tongue-in-cheek, they fully show their ass. I think I understand the band is trying to have fun, but even if you don't take music seriously, you still need to deliver moments that the audience wants to listen to. I don't hear any of that on this song, or the last few albums. It makes me wonder how they ever managed to make the one really good album.

Short Story: Breakfast At Tiffany's

*As this year's Christmas 'gift', I present a comedic short story I penned this year. It amuses me, and perhaps it will amuse you as well.*

The morning calm glossed over the rough waters flowing under the surface, the silence so loud cries for help couldn't be heard. As the sun rose, it cast new light on the day, revealing the erasure marks on the blank slate that still bore the remnants of a past that cannot be forgotten, no matter how hard we scrub our memories clean. Even letting those memories out through tears does not work, as the salty streaks will remain visible when we look from the right angle.

Dillan hated the silence of his morning walk nearly as much as the questioning voices he would hear once he arrived. There is no proper balance of being seen and ignored, or perhaps it was a manifestation of his frustrations with the only reasons his presence was ever noted. Being laughed at was preferable to being ignored, because at least he felt someone would be there to keep the feral cats from eating his face should he have stopped breathing out of boredom.

His hand paused on the handle, his body almost unsure if he wanted to enter. Whether he did so willingly, or if he merely fell forward against a push door, the familiar tone of the bell filled his ears before he could register anything else. The light was dim, but he already knew what the scene would be. The store was empty, save for two figures sitting at the counter, a pile of records slowly disintegrating in the sleeves.

As the door closed, the background came into focus. Gordon and Jess were in their usual places, their faces lost in the search for a topic worth talking about. Dillan knew he was about to give that to them, which would be a welcome distraction for all of them from the fact Morrissey's voice would get intolerable even before the embarrassment of this moment would.

Gordon was the first to look toward the door.

"What did you do this time?" he asked.

Dillan waited to answer until he stepped closer, taking the other seat at the counter. They formed a triangle that Dillan would often say was his way of staying in shape. Though he did not care that much for people, he liked to have more than one around at a time, if for no other reason than to alleviate the pressure of being responsible for conversation. He reckoned he had the personality of two-thirds of a person, and if that was true of each of them, they amounted to a full friendship between the three of them.

"Just why do you assume it must have been my fault?" Dillan asked in return.

Jess rolled her eyes in perfect rhythm to the music. A born performer, she made detachment a must-see effort.

"Has a woman ever done anything to put you off?" she asked.

"Put me off or get me off?" Dillan responded, in both seriousness and jest.

"The answer's 'no' to either one," Jess offered as a retort.

Dillan raised his finger as if to protest, then thought better of it. His head dropped as his hand did, finding the familiar posture of defeat.

"So what happened? How'd you scare this one off?" Gordon asked.

"Besides being being himself?" Jess quipped.

"It's the same old story. Desperation is cute when you find it abandoned on the street, and less so when you bring it home, clean it up, and see what it looks like in the light.

"So it wasn't a 'too much of a good thing' situation?" Gordon asked.

"Has anyone ever considered me a good thing?" Dillan asked in all seriousness.

"A good thing? No. Too much? For sure," Jess answered.

"I just have to face the facts. Some people have magnetic personalities, and I'm one of them. But instead of attracting people, I'm like when you put them the other way and they push themselves apart. Perfect metaphor right there," Dillan said.

"It would be more perfect with a little less science involved," Gordon challenged.

"Yeah, if people don't want to think about you, they don't want to think because of you either," Jess agreed.

"I haven't had any more success with the ones that don't think either. It turns out, the problem is that I'm the one who thinks too much, not them," Dillan said.

"We keep telling you being drunk would solve that problem," Gordon reasoned.

"You're nothing but inhibitions," Jess added.

"Alcohol isn't going to help me in the morning, when I have a head full of regrets," Dillan argued.

"That's what day drinking is for," Jess snarked.

"If that's what it takes, I guess I don't have the bladder capacity for happiness," Dillan said. "The point is that some of us simply don't seem to be wired to be happy, or be with people, and I'm one of them.

"You've just got to get back on the horse," Gordon reassured him.

"Yeah, there's nothing getting ridden wouldn't solve," Jess added.

"Um... I think in this metaphor he would be the one doing the riding," Gordon reasoned.

"No judgment," Jess responded.

"I can do without the pep talk, thanks. Getting back on the horse is just going to lead to me getting hurt even worse. Once you get thrown off, trying to ride in a full body case isn't exactly going to go very well," Dillan said.

"Hmm... full body cast... is that the only way you can get hard around a woman?" Jess joked.

Gordon covered his mouth with a hand to stifle his laughter. There was a point at which friendly banter would cross the line, and Gordon couldn't afford to lose one of the few customers to enter his store. No matter how funny the joke, he had to make the effort to appear as if he cared about his friend's feelings.

"You know what the worst part of this whole thing is?" Dillan asked.

"Is it us?" Gordon asked back.

"Close. No, the worst part is that as she was slamming the door in my face, she told me she would do 'that' for love, just not with me." Dillan said.

"So you got the front and back door slammed on you," Jess said.

"What? No, she was paraphrasing my favorite song. Now I'm never going to be able to hear it without thinking about her. She ruined it for me."

The bell broke up the conversation, the presence of another person a jarring enough development to disrupt their attention. They turned to the door, blinded by the corona of sunlight poking through just enough to know it wanted to venture no further.

Paizley stood in the doorway, her arms outstretched as if she was glad to see the sorry lot. She would be the only person with such a reaction, the shock of color that reminded the others how dark they were, but served as the light to remind them the coffin lid had not yet been sealed shut.

She moved closer, her smile strong enough to stay on her face as she reached the counter.

"Welcome back. How was your tour?" Gordon asked.

"The shows were great, but the travel was a nightmare," Paizley answered.

"The clown show kind, or the clown kind?" Jess wanted to know.

"I went to check my bag for the flight, and the guy thought my microphone was a sex toy," Paizley said.

"I mean... I can see it," Jess said from experience.

"So he tells me I can't check it, I can only carry it on, which I barely got closed as it was. So I shoved it in my cleavage and said 'I guess we know what these are for'. Except then he tried to do a mic check, and I had to tell him I'm not a drive through, and you don't have to speak into the mic," Paizley recounted.

"Eww," Jess let out.

"It's like that everywhere. The only thing worse than the people you know are the people you don't know," Paizley philosophized.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Gordon said.

"Well, I did come back to you guys," Paizley responded.

The bell was faintly audible over the volume of Paizley's voice. Her personality had filled the store enough that no one noticed Dillan retreating into the background, slipping out as his friends forgot about his misery. Paizley noticed first, her curls bouncing as she spun her head around to look for Dillan. She exchanged a look with the others, then bounced over to the door. She waves as she stepped back into the sunlight, her eyes trying to focus and find his outline on the empty sidewalk.

Dillan was sitting on his couch, his guitar on his lap, when Paizley knocked on the door. He paused for a moment, surprised she had chased him down. He wanted to be alone, but his insecurity could not let him pass on unearned attention.

Paizley walked in already in mid sentence, assuming she was welcome anywhere.

"You didn't say hello down there," she said.

"I didn't want to ruin your homecoming."

"And just how would you do that?"

"Come on, I'm sure you can smell the sadness in here. You don't want to have to put me back together again."

"Are you doing ok?"

"Am I ever ok?"

"Jokes aren't going to get you out of tough conversations forever."

"Who's joking? Have you ever seen me happy?" Dillan asked.

"That might be scarier than the clowns. So what happened."

"I've tried being myself, and that always failed, so this time I took people's advice and tried to be someone else. Turns out I'm not much of an actor, so fake me is even harder to stomach than the real thing."

"Look, someone..." Paizley started to say.

"Please don't tell me someone will come along who appreciates me. It's kind of you, but I don't need to be lied to right now. I did at least get a new song out of it."

"That's something. Can I hear it?"

Dillan walked to the couch, picking up his guitar and clutching it against his chest. He took a deep breath, more of a sigh, and strummed a single chord.

"I suck, I suck, and not the way with a happy ending," he sang.

Paizley cocked her head at an angle, lowered her brow, and punched Dillan in the arm.

"You know you're a jerk, right?" she asks.

"Yeah."

The door opened, and Gordon and Jess walked in as if they were invited. Dillan took one step toward the door, then realized the futility of trying. He turned back to Paizley, who was sliding the guitar out of his grip. She positioned it against her own body.

"I suck, I suck," she sang, winking to the beat.

"We're not interrupting, are we?" Gordon asked.

"Pity parties do have a maximum occupancy," Dillan answered.

"But your life is a clown car, so we can all fit," Jess said.

"Ha ha, ha ha," Paizley sang, caught up in the moment.

Dillan collapsed onto the couch, the back holding up his head because he didn't have the energy to do it himself. The others took seats with him, settling in for the duration. Gordon pulled a bottle from his pocket. The smell was obvious to Dillan as the cap was removed; the smell of loneliness. Gordon took a sip, then passed the bottle to Jess. She did the same, then passed it to Paizley. She did the same, and held the bottle toward Dillan.

"You know I can't do that," Dillan said.

Paizley looked at him, her cheeks still full of booze. Her eyes popped open as she realized her mistake, little jewels that reminded him for an instant of how precious she was. She wiped the bottle on her sleeve, then offered it back to him.

"That wasn't the issue," Dillan said.

"Ooo," Jess cooed.

"Just humor me. I want to have a drink with my friends," Paizley insisted.

"One of us is going to regret this," Dillan said, resigned.

Dillan put the bottle to his lips and titled his head. It was unclear to the others whether they were parted enough for any of the liquid to pass through, but the act was enough to satisfy them. They let out a sarcastic cheer, and he passed the bottle back to those who needed it more than he did.

"Let's put on some music," Gordon said.

Dillan froze, his fight-or-flight mechanism short-circuiting like every other bit of his fractured psychology.

Gordon shimmied to the stereo, pressing the play button before Dillan could come to. Music filled the room, the familiar voice of Paizley crooning sadness.

"My record isn't exactly party music," she admitted, "but it's kind of you to listen to it."

Gordon picked up the case, holding it up to the light. Dust was caked on the surface, dulling the bright colors of her face.

"Have you listened to anything else in months?" Gordon asked.

Dillan remained silent.

"This is awkward, isn't it?" Jess asked.

"We should give them a moment," Gordon was smart enough to realize.

Gordon and Jess got up to leave. Jess tried to look back as Gordon shoved her out the door. Her fingers clasped onto the frame, her eyes almost making it back far enough to see. She lost her grip, and the door closed, leaving Dillan and Paizley alone.

"Is there something you want to tell me," Paizley asks. "Because you know you can, if there is."

"I'm not saying anything. Every time I open my mouth, I ruin something. There are certain things that aren't worth the risk of screwing up."

"You're not as clever as you think you are."

"I know I'm not. I'm always trying to be honest, and everyone seems to not understand what I'm saying, or they just refuse to believe the truth is the truth."

"By not saying anything, you're actually saying everything."

"So what can I do to seem like I'm shutting up?"

"I don't think there's anything you can do."

"Finally, we agree on something."

Paizley punched him in the arm again, with less of a wink this time.

"Why are you so afraid of having feelings?" Paizley asks.

"Because whatever they start out as, they always end up echoing as pain. At least if I don't feel anything, it doesn't hurt... as much."

"That's a terrible way to live."

"I can't change who I am. You can dye your hair, or try on a new outfit, but I can't re-wire my brain. I'm a living ghost, and anytime I've ever tried to be something more, I'm quickly reminded that some tastes are never acquired."

"And you're ok with that?"

"I don't have a choice. It's not like I can make people like me, and even if I could somehow manifest that, it would be cruel on my part to force people into thinking that want me around. Not to mention, if I knew it was merely my wish overriding reality, I wouldn't feel any better than I do now. Fake affection isn't any better than no affection.

"You've thought this through."

"For some of us, love is only a one-way street. If we're lucky, we get to spend a bit of time going parallel with someone we like. But even if it lasts forever, the lines are never going to get any closer, so it really doesn't matter."

"Someone really did a number on you."

"Petty much everyone. It's no wonder I hate myself."

Paizley cracked a wry smile. Dillan furrowed his brow, afraid of what was about to come.

"Hating you... maybe that's the one thing we've got," Paizley said.

"Did you just 'Breakfast At Tiffany's' me?"

"Doo doo doo doo doo doo," Paizley crooned.

Dillan closed his eyes and shook his head. He couldn't decide whether to laugh at the absurdity, or cry that this was as good as it would get.

"You know you're an asshole, right?" Paizley asked him.

"I do."

"So it's a good thing everyone needs one."

Paizley leaned over and kissed Dillan gently on the cheek. She popped up from her seat, winked at him again, and made her way out. Dillan watched her, she knew he couldn't keep his eyes off her, and she spun through the door so her flaming hair would leave a streak burned into his vision for the rest of the night.

"How am I going to fuck this up?" Dillan asked himself.

The Top Ten Songs Of 2024

Songs haunt my mind like ghosts I cannot shake, specters of a past that has looped around to make sense only as I become old enough to solve the mysteries of who I used to be. Certain songs from my youth were at the forefront of my obsessive personality this year, listened to again and again as I found myself wondering how I did not see the truth so long ago. I wrote pieces about a couple of those songs this year, so my thinking was perhaps more attuned to the power of a single song than in past years. Whether that was the cause or not, most of my favorite albums this year did not have a singular song I would point to as the crux of the experience. And with a shorter supple of singles from other sources, it made picking my absolute favorite songs a harder task than most years. For several of these artists, I could have picked among multiple songs without sacrificing anything.

While the tiers may not have been separated by as much as in the past, there were still songs that made a lasting impact on me. These are the ones I am here to celebrate and highlight. In no particular order, my favorite songs of this year are...

VK Lynne - Seam Ripper

Over the course of the year, VK gave us a number of sounds and styles to try out, with this one leaving a lasting impression on me. This was a year of feeling connections fraying, so VK's song about the benefit of cutting the threads connecting us to people we would be better off without hit home with me. I have been on the receiving end of that treatment many times, while I usually find myself holding on for dear life to keep the distance from growing. A jaunty song reminding me that some people are happier leaving me behind was a fitting soundtrack in a year when I questioned the very nature of friendship. This song made me smile more than most of the people in my life.

VK Lynne - Plastic Roses

This song also left a lasting impression. Conjuring the sound of 80s hair metal ballads, VK tells a story about memories that can't be killed or discarded. There are some things that we are stuck with, no matter how much we want to forget or move on. Mine are less memories, and more existential crises, but the sentiment is the same. Just when we think we have moved on, they will pop back up to remind us no matter where you are or how much you've evolved, you can't cut your roots so they won't grow back. A weeping guitar solo is the acknowledgment that we can't bend the world the way we can bend a note.

Lucifer - The Dead Don't Speak

Whether we call Lucifer occult rock, or doom rock, or any other number of genre tags, this song stands out in their catalog for being a huge, stomping number. When the chorus comes in, and Joanna hits that hook, the band is pounding out the chords and beat with as much power as they can muster. It's one of those moments when I can envision a festival crowd headbanging in time, and there's not much better than that. It's the closest thing to an anthem as a fuzzy genre can muster, and I'm here for it.

The Requiem - Cursed

It isn't easy to capture the way a song makes me feel in words. I'm struggling to say what exactly the sensation I get from this song is, because it's more than merely a catchy emo song. There is something in the drive of the guitars and the wail of the vocal that stirs a bit of defiance in me, as if I'm able to muster the energy to give a damn once again. That might be a bit melodramatic, but it's on the right track.

Hannah Wicklund - Sun To Sun

The blues is at its best, at least to me, when it gets stretched out to say something in as loud and epic a way as possible. Hannah does that on this song, drawing out the drama as she lets her guitar and vocal burn. There's a sense that she's pausing between each line as if she needs to gather her breath to spit out the next line. It's a powerful delivery, and one of the rare moments when I feel like I understand the blues. That makes it a song well worth hearing.

Powerwolf - Viva Vulgata

A lot of Powerwolf songs end up sounding the same. That is both a blessing and a curse, but it means when one can stand out from the pack, it must be special. That would be this song, which stands head-and-shoulders above the rest of the album, due to its immense and irresistible hook. Atilla is joined by the usual choir of voices, and they deliver an energetic sermon to the masses, which might not convert my belief system, but it will keep me in the pews for a little while longer.

Blues Pills - Holding Me Back

There is more connecting genres of music than we sometimes notice, given how narrow our focus can be. The first instant I heard this song, there was one inescapable thought that would not leave my mind. Blues Pills had opened a door to show us what music would be like if Adele was fronting a rock band. Elin's voice has always had nods to Adele, but never before has she sounded quite so similar, and with the intro being played akin to "Rollin In The Deep", the comparison was unavoidable. I have struggled with Blues Pills, because they have never matched the power and fire of their debut, but this song is a showcase of what this version of the band can be. God, I hope they can keep it going.

Myles Kennedy - Miss You When You're Gone

My thing for ballads continues, with my favorite song from Myles' album being this slower number. The ringing chords have a beautiful tension, and Myles' voice is its most emotional. When the chorus hits, there's just enough power to propel the song, and a release that is satisfying in a way that a heavier song struggles to achieve. It's great work from Myles, and one of my favorite performances of his ever.

Cassandra's Crossing - Closer To Heaven

Few of the songs on the album give Cassandra as much room to let her voice shine. The sparse arrangement in the verses lets us hear every nuance of her performance, and the layers in the chorus are pillowy soft and gorgeous. This song is less about immediate gratification, and more about the slow-burn appeal of a voice working its way into your heart.

Cemetery Skyline - The Coldest Heart

Perhaps the most metallic song on this goth album, the heavy groove juxtaposed with the slick melody makes this one stand out from the rest. The dynamics build from the soft verse, to a heavier bridge, to the crushing chorus. It winds up in a glorious sweep of emotional vocals and searing lead guitar. Sadness rarely has made me smile so much.

 

The Worst/Most Disappointing Albums Of 2024

A difficult year manifests itself in many ways, one of which is a larger collection of music that winds up disappointing me in one way or another. Maybe I set my expectations too high, or maybe I spent too much of the year in a mood where nothing could have made me happy, but there were an ample number of albums that didn't live up to what I wanted them to be. There were the ones that were truly terrible, and those that merely weren't all they could have been. In either event, they left me with a sour taste in my mouth.

These are those albums.

The Worst:

The Offspring - Supercharged

Once again, The Offspring have made an album that leaves me wishing they hadn't. Last time, I was embarrassed to have ever counted myself a fan of the band. Things aren't quite so bad this time, but the record isn't much better. They rehash some of their older songs, which only serves to remind us of when they were actually a 'good' band, and they do it with a production that sounds worse than before they had a budget to work with. We sometimes talk about veteran bands that only make music as an excuse to keep touring, as if reason was needed anymore. This is one of those albums that proves the point, because I don't know who can hear "Supercharged" without thinking it sounds much more like a battery that has caught fire our in the garage.

Green Day - Saviors

The is very much the same case as our previous entry. Green Day has improved, but only in comparison to the complete black hole that was "Father Of All..." Taken on its own, "Saviors" is yet another Green Day album that gives us pause, and makes us reconsider if they were ever as good as we thought them to be. The answer to that is clearly 'no', and they were really always a singles band that somehow conned us into thinking they were something more. They only thing this album saves is me from having to ever think another Green Day album is worth my time.

Neal Morse - The Restoration: Joseph Pt II

I should just copy-and-paste everything I said about the first album of this set. Neal has once again written a bunch of boring dad rock that tells a story that was already told better. It's completely irrelevant, and I really don't want to have to say anything else.

Jack White - No Name

The return to bare-bones rock is not the celebration White Stripes fans might have been hoping for. After years of weird experiments that didn't work, Jack White goes back to the basics, and either he forgot how to do that, or more of his success is due to that Lego music video than I thought. This record is no fun at all, with fuzzy guitars that are a bit of a mess, and songs that bring almost nothing in the way of memorable moments. It's as if you took "Fell In Love With A Girl", gave it to random people at Guitar Center, and listened to them struggle. This isn't the blues, it just left me feeling blue.

Opeth - The Last Will And Testament

It's rare, but sometimes I hate an album for reasons other than it's quality. This record is at or near the bottom of Opeth's discography, easily, but the real reason I hate it is because of the discourse it created. What Opeth has done is make it impossible for me to take so many fans and critics in the metal scene seriously, because 90% of the talk is about nothing but Mikael growling once again. The fact that this is the same version of boring prog as the last few albums is completely obscured by the fact that so many are more interested in how 'heavy' something is, rather than if it's actually good. I could make the comparison between this and the conclusions drawn from our political climate, but I'm already depressed enough.

The Disappointing:

Taylor Swift - The Tortured Poets Department

Oh, Taylor. Just when it seemed like she was conquering the entire world, she goes and puts out an album that reminds us she is as flawed as any of us. This record takes the good parts of "Midnights", and throws them in the trash so we instead focus on her salty language. Taylor made mistakes with brighter pop as well, but they never seemed as dour as this record. And I'm not even talking about the version that's a double album, which is far too much of Taylor for one sitting. I get the impulse to remind people things aren't always as great as they appear on tv, but her tortured poetry could use a lot more poetry and less torture. Or at least a few decent melodies would have been nice. I didn't sign up for a poetry slam.

Bruce Dickinson - The Mandrake Project

Nearly twenty years.... that's how long we waited for Bruce to follow up three of the best metal records ever. All that time meant this was always going to be a disappointment, but I didn't think it would come in the form of sounding half-assed. Rather than trying to do too much to justify the time, this record rehashes a couple of shorter numbers, and then goes off on several prog tangents, one of which was literally a stream-of-consciousness bit of writing. It sounds it. I suppose the version with the graphic novel is better, because if you're like me, you zone out and lose bits of time when you're reading. That might be the only way to be truly happy listening to Bruce struggle to find his way.

Anette Olzon - Rapture

Once again, Anette Olzon is stuck with her worst material being put out under her own name. Magnus Karlsson wrote the fabulous Allen/Olzon albums, but has saddled her with his least melodic songs, which come complete with harsh vocals dotted throughout. I know there is a family connection in there, but to take the focus off of Anette, who is the best part of the album, is a massive mistake. By not giving us more beautiful distraction, we're left to focus on how this album comes across as a preachy bit of evangelicalism. It does make you wonder, though, why God can't inspire his followers to make better music in his name. So much for being all powerful?

Yours Truly - Toxic

So much for Yours Truly being the most promising new band out there. As much as I loved "Self Care", I am disappointed by this record. It isn't bad, don't get me wrong, but they detour into darker and more 'modern' sounds, which strips away the optimism that made their punk/emo so great. This is a much more downbeat record, which certainly has its place, but it wasn't what I expected or wanted from Yours Truly. This isn't so much the sound of maturity as it is the sound of a band being beaten down by life. That's rather sad, and I'm not sure if they will be able to rebound.

Ad Infinitum - Abyss

What happened? Their album last year was them finally hitting their stride and living up to expectations. They quickly crank out another record, and they leave all of that behind to go down more 'modern' paths. That means everything holding the strong hooks together is washed out in electronics and barking vocals, which plays against everything the band is good at. Melissa Bonny still delivers the choruses with aplomb, but when everything else is so forgettable, that's not enough.

The Top Ten Albums Of 2024

There is the saying that history doesn't repeat, but it does rhyme. While every year in music is an entity unto itself, there are themes and trends that carry over from one to another. In our current case, that theme is one of waning interest. The number of albums I have both listened to and fully enjoyed has been on the decline for a few years now, and it has hit yet another new low this time around.

While other years have been disappointing when it comes to the depth of the releases I hear, there are always a few albums at the very top that make up for it by becoming enduring parts of my listening habits. I can look back through my list of Album Of The Year winners (and usually the runners-up as well) and know those records still excite me the same way they did when I first heard them.

That may not be so true this year. As I sat down to make this list, I was struck by the realization that this is the first year I didn't have an album that grabbed hold of me and was without question the leader in the clubhouse for the top honor. That could be taken as a good thing, as increased competition could mean a different perspective is more positive than how I'm viewing things. I take it the other way, as going so long without falling deeply in love with one album is a concerning development that makes me question the future relationship I will have with music as a whole.

Anyway, there were still good albums, and that is what we're here to talk about today.

10. VK Lynne - The Spider Queen

Like a year-long advent calendar, each month we were treated to a new VK Lynne single. These songs traversed wide swaths of the musical ocean, drawing maps to places we know only by reputation. VK is a songwriter's songwriter, using her talents to craft songs that have something to say, that reveal pieces of ourselves so we can find the one that completes the image of the truth. Taken as a whole, they are a rainbow of creativity, each song a different color on the spectrum, but all combining to create the blinding gleam of a jewel in the sun. The beauty of a kaleidoscope is in the fractal designs giving us new interpretations at every turn. That is what "The Spider Queen" does, asking us if we love music or a particular sound. The answer tells us a lot about ourselves. The method is enchanting.

9. Cassandra's Crossing - Garden Of Earthly Delights

Not all of us listen to music the same way. I am unquestionably a 'vocals first' listener, as nothing else is as important to my judgment of an album as the melody/voice/lyric that soars over the top of the music. When there is a voice I love, it does widen the margin for error. That is the case for this record, which comes from the Frontiers factory with the benefit of featuring Cassandra Cross' voice, who is nearly a doppelganger of Lzzy Hale. That is enough to pique my interest, but she delivers hooks and melodies throughout the record that pull the best out of George Lynch's guitar playing. I gripe a lot about these 'project' albums, but then one like this comes along to make sifting through the others worth the hassle.

8. Myles Kennedy - The Art Of Letting Go

I've heard perhaps too much of Myles Kennedy in the last decade. Between working with Slash, Alter Bridge, and his solo albums, there seems to always be something new coming from him. The Alter Bridge connection is the interesting one, as this record slots in where that band began, as they have gotten more metallic over the years. Myles picks up the slack, delivering songs that are heavy and rocking, but with more restrained aggression. That keeps this record from getting to that area Alter Bridge has been in recently wherein they are trying too hard, and pushing Myles' voice too hard. This is the perfect balance, and preferable than anything Alter Bridge, Slash, or Tremonti himself, has putout lately.

7. Cemetery Skyline - Nordic Gothic

There are different shades of darkness, and while I am certainly one to enjoy melancholy and melodrama, goth is something that has always escaped me. So when I found myself enjoying this record as much as I did, it was a major surprise. This is goth, but it's slick and polished, so the blackness gleams and reflects the uncomfortable look in our eyes. This fits the mold of records I have liked in the last few years, especially Katatonia's "Sky Void Of Stars", where it gives us the sound of the silver lining in the dark clouds.

6. Powerwolf - Wake Up The Wicked

Powerwolf is always good for some fun. I don't think they have ever appeared on my year-end list, but that was more because of the competition than anything I have against them. This year, despite not thinking this is their best record, they finally make an appearance. The wolves put a little more bounce into their sound this time, frolicking in their bloody fun. I do still long for the band to spend a bit more time with their more dramatic side, but it's hard to be disappointed in another batch of their trademark fun. Power metal may be a stale genre, but Powerwolf is one of those rare bands that transcends with their unique take.

5. Smash Atoms - Smash Atoms

I feel a bit bad putting this album so high, because I was never the biggest fan of its most direct inspiration. This record is a spiritual successor to Alice In Chains, as it bears the crushing riffs and haunting harmonies that band made famous. It does this while delivering great songs, hooky melodies, and a nostalgic look back that doesn't feel like a time machine that got stuck. Smash Atoms is a modern interpretation of the grunge era, and is without a doubt the best album trying to dip into those waters I've heard in this recent wave. It says something when an album can make me nostalgic for a sound I wasn't listening to when it was popular. Kudos.

4. Hot Water Music - Vows

There are some days we need music to lift our spirits, and that is what Hot Water Music did more than anyone else this year. Their blend of punk and emo sparkles with positive energy and uplifting melodies. Some of the hooks on the record soar above their weight, with the gruff vocals reminding us why we needed that boost to begin with. If there is something to the adage about needing a spoonful of sugar to take the medicine, this album is an example of it.

3. Sunburst - Manifesto

Progressive metal is difficult to do well, and it deserves applause when a band succeeds. Sunburst put out a good debut album eight years ago, but they returned with an even better effort. They hit all the right marks, with all the intricate playing one could ask for, but every song is anchored with a swelling melody delivered by a voice very much in the vein of Roy Kahn. Sunburst is a more progressive version of Kamelot, but also a more melodic version at the same time. They take that style and perfect it, giving us an album that can be enjoyed on several levels. It's the closest thing to a flawless record this year.

2. Lucifer - V

One of the most enjoyable things about chasing new music is when a band finally lives up to their potential. Lucifer has achieved that feat on this album, finally perfecting their sound and delivering the record I knew they had in them. I have always liked their hazy take on occult rock, but their music had always stopped just short of winning me over. This record adds just a bit more energy to the mix, which gives the songs a stronger melodic factor, and that is the key. These are the most memorable songs the band has ever written, and it creates an album that is still sinister and haunting, but now the kind of haunting that stays in your psyche. That's everything we could have asked for.

1. The Requiem - A Cure To Poison The World

I shouldn't be surprised that my list this year is topped by an emo album. It was a difficult year, and that required music that could tap into the tumult of a mood that struggled to get up off the mat. The Requiem's record came at just the right time, delivering an experience that was a more grounded, less theatrical version of "The Black Parade". It has the same emotional resonance, and the same penchant for sing-along choruses, but eschews the pantomime for something a bit more straight-forward and honest. Carl Jung wrote of a collective unconscious that tethers us to the same human experience, and great records feel like they came through that pipeline. That's what The Requiem was able to achieve, and that is why "A Cure To Poison The World" is my Album Of The Year.