Bloody Good News: Ticket Prices, Biber's Scam, & Unmemorable Rock

Our Top Story: As if we haven't already been gouged enough by the music business, Live Nation and Ticketmaster have said that they consider concert tickets to be underpriced, and see increasing said prices to be a huge source of revenue growth moving forward. As researchers noted, in the last twenty-four years, the average price of a ticket to a concert has increased 250%, and yet these companies think that is still not enough. The reality of the concert industry is eating itself, and considering that is the major source of income for bands, they are bringing on their own demise sooner than it would naturally occur.

There are two different concert industries. There is the one of the huge artists, and the one for everyone else. At the highest level, they might be able to get away with this scheme. The biggest artists only go to the biggest cities, where more people have more money. The average fan of any of these artists likely lives too far away to ever see them, or can't afford the cost of good seats to a show. These concerts are events where people will have to treat those two hours (if they're lucky) as a vacation, and organize their entire life around affording and getting to that one special night. That is not a sustainable model.

The rest of the music world has to pick up the scraps that are left. They go to the smaller towns across the country, playing in bars and clubs where many of the people in the crowd are there to drink, and the music is a nice bonus. When you're driving across the landscape in a decade-old van, playing to crowds where you can count how many people are watching while you play, there's a hard price limit on what you can charge. Bands simply cannot charge exorbitant prices in small-town America when they're struggling to fill even smaller venues. Calling tickets that aren't yet selling underpriced is ignoring the reality on the ground.

Raising prices is one thing, but telling fans they aren't paying enough is a special kind of stupid. Live Nation and Ticketmaster are not only planning to rob you, they're telling you in advance, so you feel even worse when it happens, because you couldn't stop it.

In Other News: Justin Bieber was shamed into deleting a post that was calling on his fans to cheat the system in order to give his latest flop of a single a shot of becoming #1. It was technically a reposting of something put up by a fan, but it in Bieber endorsed the idea of making a playlist of his latest song that could be played throughout the night, while sleeping, to rack up plays he didn't earn. There are two elements to this story I hate. The first is Bieber so blatantly cheating, and being rather shameless about it. I've grown to realize expecting better of nearly anyone is stupid, but it does still amaze me to live in a time without shame. Corruption is as commonplace as ever, but it's done more openly, and somehow we've come to accept it. That doesn't say much for us.

The other angle is that there doesn't seem to be a reliable way to assess what songs are actually popular. Radio play is sometimes bought and paid for by corporate structures, download sales are being phased out, and streaming is able to be gamed through these pathetic means. So how exactly are we to judge which songs are truly popular, and which have had money poured into the right means of inflating their stats? I don't know if there is a way, and that renders the entire idea of the charts possibly meaningless. That might actually be a good thing, though, since it could lead to us listening to what we want, rather than what's popular. Who knows?

And Also: In a recent interview, members of Greta Van Fleet said, "these days, there isn't a lot of rock that gets stuck in your head." While the band gets criticized routinely for their sound, on this account they are absolutely right. If we're talking about the American rock scene, and especially the music being played on rock radio, there is a decided lack of memorable songs. The trend has been going on ever since the end of the grunge era, but in recent years the decline has become even more profound. As post-grunge became influenced by itself, guitars kept dropping their tunings, and singing became less important, what counts as rock music has been devolving.

Turn on a radio now, and when you aren't being played songs from the 90s still, what we get are largely bland songs that barely have riffs or melodies, and use angst and/or screaming as a replacement for memorable songwriting. That's why a band like Ghost is able to stand out. They write memorable songs with catchy choruses, the kind of music that appeals to audiences. Funny how that works, huh? It's actually why Greta Van Fleet is also successful. While they may sound remarkably like Led Zeppelin, they also write songs that have more immediate appeal to them than anything Breaking Benjamin, Godsmack, Five Finger Death Punch, and the like have come up with in a decade. Rock has become so insulated that the crossover elements that once made it big have been selected out of it, leaving us nothing but the most commonplace elements. That's not a recipe for excitement.

Album Review: Lordi - Killection

If we lived in a different time, I could safely say that Lordi are a singles band. From the time "Hard Rock Hallelujah" became a huge thing straight through today, they have put out a string of solid singles that make for some fun, albeit gimmicky, hard rock. The problem is that we don't live in that time when bands like Lordi could get airplay, so their singles have lived on albums that feature plenty of filler, which dilutes the power of those songs, and doesn't let the band play to their strength. They would be bigger, and more love (especially by me), if we were able to have them provide single after single that gets repeated exposure, rather than what we have now. Because if I'm being honest, there hasn't been a single Lordi album that, in full, has impressed me. Plenty of songs, but no albums.

Maybe I'm a bit of a prophet, because I wrote those words before reading the material that accompanied the record, wherein the concept is revealed as this record being a 'greatest hits' compilation of Lordi's hit singles if their fictional monster identities had been making music for the radio over the last forty years. Singles, eh? How did I ever arrive at the idea that's what Lordi is best at....

This would have been good information to have known when the album's first track was released, because now it makes sense that "Shake The Baby Silent" sounds like a Rob Zombie track because that's exactly what it's supposed to be copying. What at first sounded like a weird case of theft decades too late turns out to be a just a stupid gimmick. The song is still terrible, but at least I know why it exists. Lordi hasn't completely lost their minds, like I thought they might have.

Of course, there's a big problem with an album operating under this conceit; asking fans to enjoy both Zombie-esque 90s pseudo-industrial rock and synth-heavy 80s pomp-cheese rock is a bridge too far. I don't see a lot of the audience being willing to go along with all of the styles Lordi tries on throughout the album. There isn't enough overlap between them, and just being Lordi isn't enough to wash that away, especially since there is another bit of uncomfortable information here; Lordi isn't good at most of these styles.

Lordi does have a side to them I enjoy, but they are not a diverse band by any means. There is one mode they succeed in, and this album shows that when the branch out and try other things, they aren't very good at it. The campy fun and big hooks of their best stuff aren't present anywhere on this record, partly because they're so focused on recreating the sounds of the past, but also because they are adopting styles that don't mesh with their best qualities.

The other thing I don't quite get is why they didn't order the songs in supposed chronological order. It's jarring to go from a couple of 80s rockers straight into a dirty late 60s number, only to veer right back after. I like compilations to be chronological, so we can see how the artists evolved and changed with the times. This batch feels more random than anything. And that's without addressing their Kiss-disco track.

So is this album entirely a failure? Well, as an album, yes. "I Dug A Hole In The Yard For You" is a good song, but it sounds like every other Lordi single, so that's why. Everything else here is about the worst Lordi music I've ever heard. Lordi are not good at proto-metal, yacht rock, hair metal, or any of the other stuff they try here. It's bad music, and most of it doesn't even sound like Lordi, so I don't know who is supposed to enjoy this. I sure didn't. This is the first album short-listed for worst of the year honors.

Album Review: Serenity - The Last Knight

There are some bands that are deeply frustrating, because you know they have the potential to be great, and they consistently fail to deliver. Serenity is one of those bands. From the first time I heard them with the "Fallen Sanctuary" album, right through today, every record they have put out has had a handful of amazing songs, and the rest of the album comes across as filler. They have tried various guest vocalists and lyrical conceits, but the problem remains consistent. They are one of those bands I know I'm always going to be on the fence about.

In fact, after the last album left me rather cold, I wasn't expecting to cover another of theirs (if circumstances gave me enough content to do so), but I do try to give everyone a fair shake, so I listened to the two singles put out for this new effort. And much to my amazement, they were back to being the Serenity I like the most, and even if they turned out to be the highlights of the record, they were enough to draw me back in.

At their best, Serenity play power metal of the dramatic kind. The keyboards and orchestral sounds give the songs the scope and setting of a fantasy epic, as this time the album seems centered around medieval knights, so we get yet more power metal songs about swords and steel. I'll say this; I'm rather tired of the projection metal bands put forward of themselves as knights, warriors, etc. You're musicians, and there's nothing heroic about playing a guitar. Swinging a sword for any purpose besides self-defense isn't exactly heroic either, but moral examination isn't something I expect to be found in metal albums.

Georg Neuhauser remains a polarizing vocalist, with one of the most nasal voices in the genre. I don't mind him, and he certainly gives the band a sound unique from everyone else. That also made a certain 'mystery' band from not too long ago not much of one, but that's an unnecessary diversion. At his best, Georg gives the band big, strong hooks that his voice is able to maximize. "Set The World On Fire", one of those aforementioned singles, is exactly that. The chorus comes in with a dramatic swell and stomping energy, but it also has a melodic sheen so polished it only needs one play to become familiar. It's a gem of a song, no doubt.

As for that problem I mentioned, this is finally the record where they have solved it. The song I singled out already is one of the best ones here, but the rest of the album stands up to that high bar with aplomb. "Souls And Sins" boasts a massive hook, while "Keeper Of The Knights" has plenty of charm of its own. Serenity is adept at making their music sound bigger than it actually is, which they continue here. The ten main songs on the album are all roughly four minutes long, with no surprises along the way, but the record feels more expansive than that. Being compact but sounding widescreen is an interesting combination we don't often get to hear.

What those last two paragraphs are saying is that after years of being teased, Serenity has finally reached their potential. "The Last Knight" is, to my ears, the best album they've yet made. This is the best distillation of who they are and what they do given to us yet. From a few heavier moments, to the tavern sing-along "Queen Of Avalon", everything the band throws at us works in the context of this record. It's not exactly 'relatable', but power metal has never really been that.

So I'll say this; "The Last Knight" will never become a true favorite of mine, because there isn't anything in the subject matter for me to use as a mirror or a therapy, but it is a great record in a time when power metal has very few of them, and it's a ton of fun to listen to. Serenity has finally hit the bulls-eye, and "The Last Knight" is the first great album of 2020.

Bloody Good News: The Grammys and Aerosmith; Ugly and Uglier

Our Top Story: Heading into the Grammys, the awards show is even more of a mess than usual. The now former head of the Academy has been forced out amid allegations of improper conduct, but there is a more interesting wrinkle to the story. As she is burning bridges that will never again be crossed, accusations are being leveled that there is widespread cheating and corruption in the voting committees. Notably, she says that at least one nominee for Song Of The Year finished 18th in the balloting, and was given a nomination anyway because the artist served on the board making those decisions, as well as one of their representatives.

This doesn't come out of nowhere. The Grammys have been treated like a joke for ages. It's been roughly twenty years since Homer Simpson threw away his Grammy, stating it's not actually an award. The prospect of their being corruption among the Academy is not in the least bit surprising. What does come a bit out of the blue is the stupidity of the remaining members, who didn't forsee a spurned member going public with insider information. Like them or not (and I would almost always argue not), this is why NDAs have become so widespread. A competently run organization would have locked up a potential dissident in an agreement to protect their secrets. The fact that no one here did that is wildly incompetent.

But let's get back to the issue of music for a moment. What do we make of the fact that we know have information in the public telling us that some (many?) of the nominees being celebrated this year were judged even by the committees to not be worthy? For everyone who has written off the Grammys over the years, as they have shifted from being an awards show to being a televised concert, we now have something we can consider proof that it's all a scam, that the record companies are giving awards to the people whose records they are trying hardest to sell.

That may or may not be true, but the story points out a glaring flaw that inhabits just about every pursuit; people are stupid. Any system that includes the people involved in what is going to be awarded is inevitably going to fall apart. Artists cannot be in any way responsible for honoring their peers. Not only is their conflict when they make their own music, but there is conflict whenever a friend (or nemesis) is considered for a nomination. Also, people who do something are often the worst judges, because they are so involved in their own career and their own music that they hear far less than we, the general public, do.

The same thing is true for anyone else who works behind the scenes, as either a producer, agent, or record company executive. They all have self-interest they can't completely shut off, and the people they already know and/or have an investment in will get all the attention. The only way for an award to be considered the least bit genuine is if there is independence for the people handing them out. If it's nothing but the industry patting itself on the back, of course there won't be any respect. Self high fives don't count.

How did no one see this coming?

In Other News: Speaking of the Grammys, Aerosmith will be performing, and they are embroiled in an equally ugly situation. Drummer Joey Kramer was injured last year, and needed time off from performing to heal up. When he says he was ready to come back, the band disagreed, and forced him to audition and prove he was up to the job, after which they denied his re-entry to the band in time for several honors coming to them this weekend.

I'm not sure I can think of another example, off the top of my head, of a member of a band not being allowed to take back his or her rightful spot. This isn't a situation where someone is trying to rejoin after leaving a band. Kramer has always been the drummer of Aerosmith, and the other members have simply told him he can't play. Members who all, at various times, have either left the band or held them up, with no repercussions. Joe Perry left Aerosmith, yet he was welcomed back. Steven Tyler put the band on hold while he did American Idol, then publicly tried to start a solo career, only to return when it was clear no one gave a damn about him without the band. So why is Kramer being singled out and treated like this?

The simple answer is because they can get away with it. Drummers are almost always the most anonymous members of a band, and can easily be replaced without many people noticing or caring. To most people, Aerosmith is Tyler and Perry, and if they can save a few bucks with someone else playing drums, it's not a surprise they would try to put a few more bucks in their own pockets. It isn't a secret that a lot of bands their age are nothing more than business arrangements, where the members only see each other on stage. If that's the reality you live in, screwing someone over is simply monetary policy. They may not see it as screwing a friend. Fifty years in the band doesn't mean much if the 'band' is looked at as a corporation.

There's no getting around stating facts; this is a shitty way to treat a band member. If fifty years in a band gets you that little respect, perhaps the rest of us have to reconsider how much respect to give the resrt of the band.

Album Review: Serious Black - Suite 226

It feels weird to say that Serious Black is doing something.... normal with this album. Their second album, "Mirrorworld", was fantastic, but it was sold in two formats, with the band saying the 'bonus' tracks were actually essential parts of the main album (they are - the version including them is the only one worth hearing). Their third album followed only a year later, which is rather unusual for this day and age. So now the band has taken a normal amount of time off before the release of this album, and put together another conceptual piece of power metal. That is all entirely normal, and I'm not quite sure what to think of that. I was getting used to the band being a bit unusual. Keep it weird, right?

The other notable bit about this album is that the band is shifting their direction back to their beginning, with a more power metal oriented sound, tempering some of the more hard rock and traditional metal elements the last two albums integrated. Especially on "Mirrorworld", those were some of my favorite bits.

Anytime a metal band is making concept albums, especially those about psychological/horror themes, there's an inevitable comparison to King Diamond. That's hard to ignore when this record gets started, since "Let It Go" not only has moments like the introduction of the guitar solo that feel like an Andy Laroque construction, but Urban Breed throws vocal inflections into the verses that have the same sort of sinister tone that King Diamond often uses in between his falsettos.

Throughout the album, we get fewer riffs, and more chugging power chords that shift even more of the heavy lifting to Urban's melodies. That's the nature of power metal in its traditional form. The guitars and drums beat away with a steady gait, with the energy supposedly being exciting enough to get us to the choruses. There was a time I was convinced of that argument, but I don't necessarily believe it anymore.

However, if there is a singer in power metal who can carry that burden, it's Urban Breed. From Tad Morose's "Matters Of The Dark", to Bloodbound's "Tabula Rasa", to Trail Of Murder's lone album, to "Mirrorworld", he has given us several albums of the highest-quality metal melodies. He shows flashes of that on this record, with "Let It Go", "Solitude Etude" and "Fate Of All Humanity" boasting the kinds of big, sticky hooks that make power metal great, and Urban one of the better purveyors of the craft. There are also tracks like "Castiel", though, where the chorus is more of a simple chant of the title, and it doesn't have any of the snap or sheen I look for. It tries to drive the point home, but it isn't very sharp.

"Heaven Shall Burn" is much the same. Urban's cadence in the chorus simply isn't melodic, and I have never been someone for whom a repeated line with gang vocals is enough for. I'm looking for more out of a songwriter than that, and it's disappointing when someone who I know is capable of writing great songs isn't able to do so. I shouldn't be surprised, since the previous album was muc the same way. There were three or four fantastic tracks that sat among an album that otherwise was a step back from their peak. That's where we are here as well.

Serious Black has now given us four albums, and three of them fall into the category of 'pretty good with a couple great songs'. They've only made one great record in four, so perhaps the time has come to declare this is who Serious Black are. They're a band of veteran hands who made solid music, but who don't have enough of the spark of a new group to hit their heights. That's fine, and I'm not complaining about this record, but I'm also not going to say it's got my blood pumping. "Suite 226" is enjoyable enough, but it isn't "Mirrorworld". It's not even close.

Album Review: Temperance - Viridian

I've mentioned many times over the years that power metal was my gateway into the world of heavier music, and that despite my roots in that sub-genre, I have found the scene to be extremely tired and played out in recent years. Other than Orden Ogan, who are consistently good, there hasn't been a lot in the world of power metal that has captured my attention and managed to hold it. The albums that have are largely things that inject more rock into the proceedings. A couple years ago, however, Temperance released "Of Jupiter And Moons", which was symphonic power metal that did stand out, that did excel, that did make an impact.

A large part of that was due to the band's multiple vocalists, who play off one another and add plenty of depth and nuance to the writing, the performance, and especially the harmonies. That record has a few flaws, sure, but it was a bright and vibrant piece of work that has lingered in my mind ever since. With the band moving to a new and bigger label, and riding off the success of that record, I certainly came into this record expecting something really good.

The album gets off to a ripping start with "Mission Impossible", one of the singles the band previewed before the release. It wastes no time getting right to the heavy riffing, with the slick modern sound that has been slowly taking over the scene. The difference is that Temperance is able to take that rhythmic foundation and graft on huge hooks and melodies, which are sweetened by the three voices blending into a far more lush sound than a lot of bands are able to achieve, whether through choice or multi-tracking the same voice several times. There's a real difference when you have different singers coming together, and it's Temperance's biggest selling point. It sounds phenomenal.

I go to this well often, but there is a natural comparison to be made here with Amaranthe. They both have multiple singers, a knack for huge choruses, and a polished modern sound. They also operate on a level above the usual competition. There are a lot of bands that can match the chugging guitars and the hints of electronic influences, but it's rare for any to consistently write sticky hooks. Temperance is able to do that, and "Viridian" picks up where the last album left off, in that regard.

This record is a bit different, though. The band is focused more on their metal edge, with less symphonic bits softening their sound. They're equally adept at both, so that isn't a criticism, merely an observation. What it does is set them up for success, because this record is even more focused, and primed to cross over to more metal fans than before. The band took their music, pared it down to the bones, and worked to deliver an album with a laser focus on their target audience.

To that end, "Viridian" is exactly the type of album I'm always searching for. There's not much better than heavy guitars and huge melodies, so especially after the slow holiday season and start to the new year, this is the first album of 2020 that feels satisfying. There's plenty of metallic crunch here to headband to, there's little details in the background to put your tongue firmly in your cheek, and of course the hooks will have your head bopping along. At certain times, what we need most of all are records that can make us feel good, and I get that sense from "Viridian". There's something about the sound that is uplifting.

I'll be honest, though. While this record sates me, I do miss some of the elements from "Of Jupiter And Moons" that didn't make it to this album. The songs are great, but the scope of the record has been narrowed slightly. That's not a problem, but when you get to the gorgeous orchestral ballad "Scent Of Dye", it opens up so many possibilities that it would have benefitted the album even more to go down that road a bit more often.

Still, that's no reason to complain. Temperance has once again given us an album that shows power metal being done as well as anyone is doing it, justifying their climb up the ranks, and putting the first marker down in the battle to top the rankings in 2020.

Album Review: Magnum - The Serpent Rings

Magnum is like clockwork. Every couple of years we get another album of their particular blend of pomp-rock, and it's a nice reminder that they are still out there doing their thing, when they don't have any reason other than the love of music to do so. Magnum are always enjoyable, but they have also proven themselves to be wildly inconsistent. After "Brave New Morning' and the fantastic "Princess Alice And The Broken Arrow", they have settled into a groove where every record sports one or two great songs to add to the catalog, and the rest is filler to get us on to the next album cycle. I know we don't expect bands to be writing their best stuff after forty years, but I'm sure they could be doing a bit more. Bob Catley has popped up as a guest on enough albums doing great work that I desperately want to hear him singing great music again. And since he hasn't put out a solo album in ages, that leaves Magnum.

Once again, Magnum deliver us a solid hour of new music, which if I'm being honest, is at least ten minutes too much. All of their albums are roughly that length, and even the ones I like feel like they go one one or two songs too much. Unless you're writing nothing but killer tracks, and hour is asking a lot these days.

We get off to a good start with "Where Are You Eden?" The song does what Magnum does best, blending some crunchy rock with beautiful keyboard and orchestral work. Look, this is Magnum's twenty-first album, so we've heard it all before. The only question with each album is which bits of their history get emphasized, and has Tony Clarkin pulled out a couple extra great melodies. The answer to the former is Magnum trending toward their heavier side, and the answer to the latter is... sort of.

Like all Magnum albums, the songs are smooth and melodic, but not a lot of them hit the grandiose notes that their best songs do. The chorus to "Not Forgiven" is one of those moments, but for every song like that, there's a "Madman Or Messiah" where they lose that magical feeling. Or there's the title track, which spends more than two minutes building up to an ascending melody that is the perfect way for the song to explode into a massive chorus... but instead it pulls back to a very small sounding melody instead. All the work setting the stage was done just so the lights could get turned down a few notches too far.

Then there's "House Of Kings", where Catley and the band try for an aggressive approach, and nothing about it works. Catley's voice is not an angry one, and him pushing himself doesn't sound very good. Maybe it's his age, but he's clearly at his best when he's singing in a more dramatic or emotional tone. Forced aggression doesn't sound natural for him, or for Magnum.

There are still some good songs on here, like those I've mentioned, as well as "The Great Unknown" and "Man", but I'd be lying if I said it added up to a full album of great Magnum material. The good stuff is good, but there's enough lesser material that it drags down the album's average. If you cut out three tracks, and left this as a forty-five minute album, it would be pretty good. Not one of their best, but certainly something work coming back to. I can't really say that about the full record. I would say this is one to pick out the good songs, and focus on them. If you do, you've got five or six very good Magnum tracks. That's not so bad.

Album Review: Revolution Saints - Rise

I didn't make any predictions, so there is no crow to eat, but I can say I'm a bit surprised to be sitting here reviewing the third album from Revolution Saints. That has nothing to say about the band, as I actually think their first album was really good, but these late-career 'supergroup' bands seldom last more than one album, or two at the most. So for them to be on the third go-round is actually rather impressive. They seem to have found enough of an audience to make it worth their while, and I commend that. However, they are a band that needs to kick things up a notch. As I mentioned, I thought their first album was really good, but their second album was a clear step down from those heights. I won't speculate why, though I have a few ideas, but album number three is the one that will define whether they are one of the better groups of this kind, or they were a one album wonder. Which is it?

Things get off to a good start with the first single, "When The Heartache Has Gone", which is a classic melodic rocker where Deen Castronovo gets to sing some smooth melodies (even if he seems a bit low in the mix), while Doug Aldrich adds in a shredding solo. It's exactly what you would expect from this kind of melodic rock, but it's just sharper than a lot of the other records the conveyor belt churns out, and Deen's voice gives it a unique identity. The bits where Jack Blades takes a few lines instantly sound more generic just by virtue of the tone of his voice.

I like melodic rock that still rocks, so "Rise" is the kind of track we need to hear more of. It's a bit heavier, has more energy, and that helps the record feel more urgent. It's easy for these bands to get too soft too often, and then the records feel rather limp and lifeless. There is actually a big difference between AOR and melodic rock, and too often bands cross over without realizing it.

With this album, Revolution Saints connect back to that first album, and deliver songs that hit on the promise of the genre. "Coming Home" and "Closer" inject a bit of drama, packed with strong melodies and an uplifting spirit. Melodic rock is supposed to make you feel good, and that's what Revolution Saints are giving us here. Is it a bit cheesy? Sure, but that's part of the charm. A little bit of that is fun, as long as it's kept in check, and it certainly is here.

A fresh year means a fresh start for every genre, a bit of a reset, and I find that very helpful. Without the distinction, every record would be another knot on a thread that never seems to end. They would be there, but they would all be the same. Revolution Saints are starting off 2020 on the melodic rock front, and in doing so they are giving us a good starting point. There will be a lot of similar records to come as the year unfolds, so it's nice to have a measuring stick that's worth using. "Rise" gets back to doing what Revolution Saints are best at, and that means we get a record well worth hearing if you're a melodic rock fan. And to think, January was at one time a wasteland for album releases. Getting us with fresh ears can be a good thing. It is for Revolution Saints.

Album Review: Sons Of Apollo - MMXX

I'm not sure there's a way to talk about Sons Of Apollo without finding ourselves mired in the comparisons we really shouldn't have to deal with. We should be able to talk about the music on its own without addressing any of the outside concerns, but some of those did play upon the music, so let's get them out of the way early. Sons Of Apollo did themselves a disservice when they hyped up their inception by calling themselves a prog metal supergroup. Let's leave aside the comparisons to the members' former groups, but just on its own, the comment made people expect a progressive metal album. What we got was an album that was half technically astute hard rock/metal, and half more traditional prog metal. I obviously preferred one half to the other, but I will say I was put off a bit when the band then tried to backtrack and say we were wrong for expecting what they told us the band was going to be.

They shouldn't have been promoting themselves until they knew who they were. Lesson learned?

That's what we find out with their second album, which has the benefit of a record/tour cycle behind it. The band has played together, both live and in the studio, and they should have a better understanding of who Sons Of Apollo are.

"Goodbye Divinity" is both the first single, and the opening track, and it welcomes us back to their world with the best elements of the debut. The playing is excellent, the sound is low-tuned and heavy, and Jeff Scott Soto gives the band a strong melodic edge. It's very modern, but anchored on strong songwriting, very much like the singles from the debut album, which I felt were the best tracks on that record. There is a lack of highly proficient melodic rock/metal, which is a niche that Sons Of Apollo can definitely fill. Tracks like this one prove that point with ease.

Although the band keeps the running times relatively compact, save for the fifteen minute closing epic, a funny thing happens once we get past the opener. The next two tracks, "Wither To Black" and "Asphyixiation" both see the melody sanded down in favor of a more rhythmic vocal approach, which might make the songs sound heavier, but it doesn't make them as memorable. I shouldn't be surprised, though, since the same exact thing happened with Mike Portnoy's other recent band, The Winery Dogs.

With "King Of Delusion", we got the second longest track, and one that relies heavily on establishing a groove with the guitars. Between that approach, and the type of melody Soto brings to the table, it reminds me a bit of Dio's "Master Of The Moon" album. This song has a solo piano intro, and some heavy grooves, so it's crying out to have a suitably epic chorus, but that never comes. Soto's work throughout the record is lacking the snap and hookiness that "Coming Home" or especially "Alive" brought to the first record. These songs are, if anything, more subtle this time around.

I like the band's focus on this album. They have picked an identity for who they are going to be, and they largely stick to that, so this record holds together as a more cohesive piece. That being said, this collection doesn't have those couple of great melodic tracks that appeal to listeners such as myself. This is less of a prog metal album than the first, but it feels more like one, in that it's not a very immediate listening experience. If you don't focus on the details of what's going on, it's easy to have the melodies slip by unnoticed.

And herein lies the issue; Sons Of Apollo are a band with immeasurable talents.... except for the most important one of all. They are all among the best at what they do, but this record spends fifty-one of its fifty-eight minutes displaying a lack of virtuosity in the songwriting department. The playing and singing is excellent, and there are good ideas to build on, but the core melodic songwriting that people who aren't hardcore musicians grab on to (that would be me, if you can't tell) are largely missing. The myriad solos in "New World Today" are impressive, but where's the hook I'll be singing to myself while I wait for my cup of coffee to finish brewing?

Sons Of Apollo have simultaneously taken a step forward by defining who they are, and a step backward in delivering an album that is less of either side of the coin. It's not like this is a bad record, but it doesn't live up to even their flawed debut. They could, and really should, be doing so, so much better than this.

Album Review: Poppy - I Disagree

When the bar to success gets lowered far enough, what is able to climb over it may raise a lot of eyebrows. One of the consequences of popular music fragmenting into so many pieces, where we can all stream our narrow band of taste without ever hearing anything to challenge us, is that almost anything can be positioned as a hit. There is no more popular opinion, and we don't share conversations about divergent music with people we don't already know agree with us, so we have to take the industry's word that something that attracts any attention at all is, in reality, the next big thing.

Poppy has been generating massive amounts of buzz, at least in certain circles, for this new album. I have heard her name as much as anyone leading into 2020, with several people whose opinions I listen to all saying hers is one of the most anticipated records of the year. All of this is despite her not being conventionally popular; having no hit song, no hit album, no established touring draw. She is big because people say she is going to be big, because apparently there is just enough cross-over that someone other than one particular music silo has taken a shine to her.

So I did what all curious critics do; I opened the door to mine, and I decided to see what all the fuss was about. I don't care about being popular, but I am intrigued by how bad something has to be before it stops generating acclaim, and so I sat down and listened to the music of Poppy to see why she is considered the next big thing.

Honestly, I can't hear anything in this music that explains it. I know that music doesn't have to appeal to many people anymore to be successful, but it should still have to appeal to someone, right? I don't know what appeal Poppy holds.

Poppy's music is like art-house cinema; it is dark, bleak, abstract, and intended only for a tiny slice of the audience. There is no feel good moment, no obvious narrative, nothing to pull you back from the boredom of having your soul crushed by an artist who wants to remind you of the depressing nature of humanity. If ever someone needed a soundtrack for a four hour, black and white movie with copious visual sadism, Poppy would fit the bill.

This wretched album starts with "Concrete", a 'song' that tries to pull together the riffing of Slipknot, 60s harpsichord pop, and vocals that sound like a six year old. It's a complete mess, with no justification whatsoever for the violent shifts in style. It's trying to be off-putting, but that alone isn't art. It's a built-in defense mechanism to use as an excuse if and when people don't like what they're hearing. "Oh, they're not supposed to like it. It's too challenging, or too dark, or too....." You get the idea. It's music that can't fail, because failure is the point. Actually, I suppose if it does become popular, Poppy would be a failure. Huh.

The title track is even worse, since it has a kernel of a good idea in the main melody, but it's surrounded by tuneless noise. It's musical schizophrenia, and I simply can't hear how someone is going to enjoy all of the various bits and pieces Poppy has thrown into her sausage grinder. The chunks haven't blended into a tasteless paste. I can hear each one, and they don't go together whatsoever.

I suppose the confusion and depression this album stirs in me is one of two things. It is either an indication that I truly am too old to be listening to what's 'popular', or the concept of songwriting is dead. They might both be true, but the latter is the one that bothers me the most. Music is personal, and everyone's experience is different, but songs are more than collages of randomness. Songs speak to the human experience, they have something to say about it. At least they should. You could read into it that Poppy is telling us the world is tearing apart around us, but that line of thinking feels far too complex for this record. No, the distinct impression I get is that Poppy (and the people behind the scenes guiding this) is trying to be artistic without a full understanding of how that's done. Being weird for the sake of being weird isn't art. It's a cry for attention.

After listening to "I Disagree", we're the ones who should be crying.

Shredding, Toxic Masculinity, & Questioning Everything

There is bullshit that goes in one ear and out the other, and then there is bullshit that is so toxic it starts to roil something in our core. Or at least in mine. That happened recently as I was listening to a music commentator talking about shred, and defending it from those who criticize it as a musical form. I consider myself to be one of those critics, but I am fully cognizant of the reasons why certain people (almost exclusively musicians themselves) enjoy listening to and/or playing shred. There are good reasons why someone would want to dive into that genre. It isn't for me, but I can understand why it is for others.

However, there are ways of defending something you enjoy that go beyond the realm of decency, and instead undercut any point you might possibly have. That is where this conversation went. This commentator's discussion began with him philosophizing about how shred is, as music, a form of 'dominance'. He also said that shred, being a male-dominated genre, is largely an exercise in proving yourself to be more of a man than lesser players.

No. Just goddamn no.

Shred is many things. It is impressive as hell, it is insanely difficult to become proficient at, it might even be the outer limit of what is capable on the guitar. What it isn't, what any form of music isn't, is a measure of manhood.

People have been claiming for as long as there has been society that the concept is crumbling around us. This is an instance where the naysayers might have a point. The idea of manhood has been so thoroughly corrupted that to believe in what we are sold on a daily basis would turn us into wretched human beings. Being able to play a guitar faster than someone else is not an indicator of anything except that you spent more time holed up with a guitar trying to do that exact thing. Manhood is not defined by being better at a skill that someone else, whether that's guitar playing, weight lifting, or shooting defenseless animals in the woods. Manhood cannot be proven, because it isn't something that can be seen or quantified. Being a man is about how you behave and what you believe.

I'll say this; if you believe being good at guitar makes you a man, you need to seriously re-evaluate your priorities. Ted Nugent is a racist asshole who wrote a song about being sexually attracted to a thirteen year old girl. The fact that he's a better guitar player than me doesn't prove anything about which one of us is or isn't a better man. The mere fact that someone thinks they can prove to another person that they are so manly seems to me to be a pretty good indicator that they don't have a clue what they're talking about.

It's now 2020, and I was hoping that the trends were moving in the right direction in terms of making women feel more accepted as part of the rock and metal world, where their presence is so natural it makes no waves. But that's not going to happen as long as we have people in the guitar world who still treat their guitars as phallic extensions, and who don't have the self-awareness to see that their attitude pushes away anyone who doesn't want to be party to that dick swinging contest. It might be natural, but we're supposed to have evolved beyond that. We're supposed to be capable of reason, but that hasn't seemed to have reached everyone just yet.

I very well might be overreacting here. Going from a flippant comment to a full-on commentary about the construct of manhood is extreme, but I'm tired of having to think about these topics. Music should be a safe haven from the more toxic parts of our society, and it frustrates me to see such small-minded, discriminatory thinking find its way into what is supposed to bring me happiness.

Between this thinking, Manowar's quiet reaction to having a pedophile in their ranks, and As I Lay Dying asking me to forgive a man who tried to have his wife killed, it's no wonder I've been in such a miserable mood most of the last year. Music is supposed to be a refuge, but at every turn I'm confronted by horrible people doing and saying horrible things, all of whom see nothing wrong with their actions. And all of that is without even touching the more mainstream artists who are currently in jail, or the fact that Chris Brown hasn't been black-balled from the industry.

On top of that, more and more bands are imploding in lawsuits fighting over the money they bring in, going so far now as to strong-arm a widow into handing over tapes in return for her rightful share. Non-essential members of bands get kicked out so cheaper replacements can be brought in. Labels continue selling us the same product multiple times, gouging every last dollar they can out of the fans they claim they appreciate.

It feels like every year, being a music fan and being a good person are increasingly incompatible. I don't know how to reconcile all of this. I don't know if it can be done. Or even if it should.

The breaking point is getting closer every day.

Bloody Good News: The Decade In Rock, Iron Maiden Returning, & Meat Loaf's Meat Head

Our Top Story: Billboard released a list of the top rock songs of the past decade, and there has perhaps not been any better indicator of the state of rock than the collection of songs that populated this list. Of the top ten songs, three were from Twenty-One Pilots, one was Panic At The Disco's ultimate sell-out song, and the top three were all from Imagine Dragons. The grating "Believer", and the truly horrendous "Thunder" were, according to the Billboard metrics, the top two rock songs of the last ten years. Seriously.

We all know that rock is not popular these days. It hasn't been in a long time, and since I don't derive my validation from outside reinforcement, I've never been one to mind this fact. If no rock songs make it onto the list of true hits, that's fine with me. What is less fine is the situation we're dealing with here, where we have songs that are not rock being categorized as such, if for no other purpose than to make it look like the genre is still popular. It's a cheap, shady way of trying to prop up rock in the mainstream, but all it does is dilute what rock means, and make rock fans who are already sore even more upset.

More than that, it serves as a reward for bands that have changed (for the worse) what rock is. There's a running joke online about various rock bands being eaten by the 'imagine dragon'. It's not entirely a joke, as this decade saw far too many rock bands turning down their guitars, adding electronic percussion, and play-acting as pop. Imagine Dragons wasn't the first, but they made it popular, and we have been suffering ever since. Maybe the reason rock can't get popular is because no one knows what it is anymore. When we have to throw Imagine Dragons and Tool into the same genre, perhaps its too unwieldy a term to use anymore. Our disappointment might only be a function of cross expectations.

In Other News: Rumors are now in the air that 2020 could see the release of a new Iron Maiden album. Longtime producer Kevin Shirley mentioned that he spent a portion of 2019 in France working on a secret project, while at the same time Bruce Dickinson had been spotted in the same place. And with 2020 marking five years since the release of "The Book Of Souls", the time is right for a new Iron Maiden album to grace our ears. The question is what direction the band is going to take, after going further down the progressive rabbit hole than ever before last time out.

I seemed to be one of the very, very few who thought this way, but "Empire Of The Clouds" was one of my least favorite Iron Maiden songs since their reunion. It seemed that everyone loved how epic it was, but eighteen minutes was just too much for me. So was two discs, but that's another matter. The band has been trending in that direction for two decades now, but when they finally reached the zenith, I didn't like the view. It's not that I don't want a new Iron Maiden album, but I'm worried what lessons they took from the critical acclaim their received.

I loved "Brave New World" and "Dance Of Death", despite their overly repetitive choruses, "A Matter Of Life And Death" was great, and "The Final Frontier" is my favorite of the lot. But I fear they have stretched things to the limits. I hope I'm wrong, but with Steve Harris having British Lion to (poorly) get out his other side, I'm apprehensive.

And Also: I've had it lucky when it comes to artists who have meant something to me not being total assholes. That has come to an end, with the news made when Meat Loaf said he feels bad for "brainwashed" climate activist Greta Thurnberg, as he does not believe climate change exists. I know it might be asking too much of someone who spent an entire season of a shitty reality show hanging out and palling around with Donald Trump, but it's sad to see that someone whose work is a part of you can so easily deny reality.

There's a difference between not thinking something is a crisis and denying that it's happening. We can disagree on whether climate change is something that needs to be addressed right now, and how we go about doing it, but facts on the ground can't be so easily swept under the rug. The world is changing. We can all see it. We can all feel it. Even where I live, weather patterns have changed from when I was a kid. It's blatantly obvious, and it's a sign of ignorance that someone would convince themselves that the truth is a lie.

And this is why people have long held the opinion that artists should shut up about politics. I'm not saying that, but they need to be careful. Anytime you say something on a controversial subject, you are bound to anger a large portion of your fans. And with the times being as polarized as they are, not everyone is going to be able to swallow hard and accept that their favorite artists are on the other side of the aisle. Artists need to know the risks when they speak, and make sure they are careful with their words. Being on the other side of an issue is far different than being a belligerent jerk about it, which is where Meat Loaf falls. There is simply no excuse for insulting a child who wants to save the planet that people of Meat Loaf's generation have spent their entire lives bringing to the brink of disaster.

At least Jim Steinman wrote most of the Meat Loaf songs I like, so I can still justify in my own head listening to the music as being a fan of his (not that I didn't say that before).

Twenty Years On: Once More Unto The "Breach"

When we're young and inexperienced, we don't often give much thought to the reasons why we do the things we do, or like the things we like. Life is taken at face value, and we don't have the interest or capability of diving deeper than the surface. We can't hold our breath long enough to take a deep dive into the recesses of our minds, of ourselves, to try to find what it is about us that is reflected in the art we love.

I know this was true for me as I was developing as a music fan. It started with a few songs on the radio that captured my attention, and one album in particular a neighbor liked to play while we hung out. I never gave any of it a second thought. Why was I drawn to a twelve-minute enigma of a song sung by an overweight and overwrought voice? Why did a song half about Peter Pan and half about cynicism towards the music business become one of my favorites? I didn't care to know. I had music I enjoyed hearing, and pretending to sing along to, and that was good enough for me.

That all changed twenty years ago. I was just hitting the age where introspection was more possible, and it coincided with an album that spoke directly to the part of myself that was always there, but I hadn't known about. I suppose you could say it started when "One Headlight" came out, but while I was one of the millions of people who fell for that track, "Bringing Down The Horse", as great as it is, was only setting the table for what was to come.

I remember hearing about "(Breach)" first by reading a review in either Time or Newsweek (I can't remember which). Something about the writing told me that even as I was being warned The Wallflowers were going in a different direction, it was the one pointing toward my north star. Despite being a neophyte fan, I was already sure I needed to hear that album, even before I knew a note of it. When "Sleepwalker" made its way to the airwaves, my hunch was proven right, as that song quickly painted a vivid picture in my mind.

I had recently turned seventeen when the album came out, which makes no sense, given the subjects and tones of Jakob Dylan's writing. It should not have spoken to me, but yet it did. From the opening organ swell of "Letters From The Wasteland" to the closing guitar solo of "Birdcage", I was hearing an album that changed the way I looked at music. It was no longer simply about a catchy ditty I could pantomime to. Music had depth that required thought, that could tell me something about myself.

What has always struck me deepest about "(Breach)" isn't the classic American rock, or the strong and durable melodies, but rather the literacy and poetry contained in these songs. Growing up listening to pop radio, I wasn't used to hearing words that flowed with beauty of their own. This is the record that got me interested in lyricism as an art, and it unwrapped the poet inside me. I suppose I can blame Jakob Dylan for the countless words I have written over the years, as I continue to chase a line as perfect as his poetry in "I've Been Delivered". For twenty years, I have been haunted by the line, "I can't fix something this complex any more than I can build a rose."

It's such an evocative image, laced with deep meaning, that it has been a guiding light of what music can be, and what it should aim for. I complain often about lazy writing, with songs about drinking, partying, and rocking at the top of that list. The reason I do that is because I have heard music used as art, I have witness rock and poetry fuse together to create something greater than the sum of its parts, and I refuse to accept that it can't be done again.

For twenty years, I have listened to these songs, and I have felt the same overwhelming inspiration in them. Along with a few others, this record made me want to become a musician and a songwriter, because it taught me the keys to writing great music. "(Breach)" is, among other things, a masterclass in songwriting, a timeless example of the power captured in the creative spirit. It also introduced me to another artist who became similarly important in my development, but that's another story for another time.

Nostalgia is a condition where we look back at moments from the past and remember them as being better than they were. I feel no nostalgia for "(Breach)", because none is needed. It sounds as vital to me today as it did in those late autumn days twenty years ago. I wouldn't be who I am without this record. Even today, I pull lessons from it. What better sign of greatness is there than that?

Retrospective Thinking: Tool's "Fear Inoculum"

*Editor's Note: I didn't review this album upon its release, because I didn't want to. But as the year wore on, my thoughts about the record became harder to ignore, so while many other outlets are proclaiming it to be one of the best albums of the year, I will serve as a counterweight.*

I still remember the first time I heard "Schism". It was something completely different from everything else that existed in modern rock, and it somehow managed to be weird in a way that was engaging and exciting. In fact, most of "Lateralus" achieved that balance. It was an experience, in both ways you can use that term. It had to be heard to be understood, but it was also a trying test of one's patience and willingness to put up with musical bullshit. And that sums up all of Tool's career, as best I can say it. Tool have a unique sound, an unquestionable vision for what they want their music to be, and they also are serial purveyors of bullshit.

The last thirteen years have been all the illustration of that we will ever need. For thirteen years, they made excuses for why they couldn't put out another record. First they were taking a break from the touring cycle. Then they were mired in a lawsuit that prevented music from being recorded. Then they needed years to come up with their masterpiece. And when all was said and done, thirteen years of waiting got us what, exactly? It got us another generic Tool record.

I was not looking forward to hearing what Tool came up with, not after the hype started. Waiting thirteen years was bad enough. I don't know how any album can live up to the expectations that come with being away longer than The Beatles or Led Zeppelin were together. If they could create so much amazing music in ten years, Tool's record would have to be the greatest thing ever to justify the amount of time spent on it. But it was more than that. When the band started talking about the number seven, and how it was laced through every facet of the record, I knew we were in trouble. And when the track listing came out, and every main song was over ten minutes, I knew the record would be unbearable. And when the cover was released, and the great artists who put such care into the visual aspect of their product gave us what looked like a bad MS Paint image, I knew Tool didn't give a damn anymore.

I was right.

The biggest fault in "Fear Inoculum" is Tool buying into their own hype. Throughout the record, they play the standard Tool riffs over and over, they grow more drawn-out than ever before, and they lean-in to their worst tendencies. Let's start with the number seven.

Many of the songs are written in seven time. While that might be a factoid to mention paragraphs down a description, the band put that concept to the forefront. They learned that fans found it fascinating when they wrote a song in the Fibonacci sequence, and so they used numbers as a crutch. Their music didn't need to be interesting; it was in seven! What they don't understand, what most progressive bands don't understand, is that the average listener can't hear that. Most people who put on a record can't count a time signature, so all the effort they put into writing riffs that work in batches of seven is lost on us. And when the biggest selling point you can make for your record is that it's more interesting if you do the math of how the notes fall, you're admitting your record is terrible. If the music was good, it wouldn't matter what time signature it happened to be in.

But the aspect that truly sunk "Fear Inoculum" is the over-bloated hubris of the whole thing. The band felt like they needed to give us the maximum, and by doing so, they exposed how little they had left in the tank. With so many long songs that add up to an ungodly long album, there simply aren't enough good ideas in any of these tracks to justify the amount of time they are wasting. The first single should have told us this. It was ten minutes long, but spent several minutes building up, noodled for no reason, and never reached a crescendo. It had the structure and creativity of a four minute song, but went on more than twice that length, simply for the sake of doing so. As I mentioned before, it was bullshit.

Over the course of the entire record, there wasn't a single melody line, and perhaps only two riffs, that were truly interesting. Adam Jones chugged away in odd times, but without any riffs like "Schism", or that one in "The Grudge" (you know which one I mean). It was all flat, tired, and like a parody of Tool. Maynard James Keenan was no better, delivering a performance that was both passionless and toothless. His voice was there, but could easily be missed, given how few of his lines were worth remembering. These songs were Tool putting down whatever ideas they had in their heads, repeating them while they hoped something else would come to mind, and not caring to quit when they realized they didn't want to be Tool anymore.

I would speculate they got so used to being able to tour and have a career without the need to obsess over making new art that the process of doing so no longer appealed to them. This record feels half-assed, and if in fact they were using their full ass, it's all the more damning. After so many years away, Tool has become a brand, and adhering to a self-contained structure seems to go against everything Tool was supposed to be. Or maybe they're just out of ideas. I might be trying to give them an excuse for wasting so much of my time listening to this flaccid attempt to be important.

Whatever the case, Tool might be getting accolades from all corners for this album, but there's no reason for it. Tool used to make good records, but this sure as hell isn't one of them. Maybe this was all one long con, a performance piece to see if people would convince themselves any piece of crap was good, just so they didn't have to admit they spent a decade of their lives holding out hope for a miracle that was never going to come.

I'm not going to lie to you. I didn't do that, and I can say "Fear Inoculum" is terrible.