Album Review: Sion - Sion

It's a bit sad when an entire genre gets boiled down to only one band, because having nothing that measures up means everything comes up short, and everything feels disappointing. That's what happened to me when I heard Killswitch Engage's "The End Of Heartache". They so defined the idea of what metalcore was to me that nothing else I heard was ever going to live up to that expectation, other than the two albums that followed from themselves. I've tried here and there to explore what's going on, but the gravity of that era has never let me escape its orbit.

So it was with great excitement that this year not only brought us a new Light The Torch album, but now a full-on return to metalcore from Howard Jones in the form of Sion, a collaboration with YouTube creator Jared Dines. For those of us of the right age, who were listening at the right time, this is a nostalgia bomb of the highest order, even if it is updated with all the modern bells and whistles.

"The Blade" kicks things off in high gear, with Howard roaring over a heavy groove, sounding as good now as ever, both spiting rage and wrapping his melodic voice around the chorus. The music Dines gives him is influenced by Killswitch, but the riffs have evolved from the chugging patterns of the past to something with more technical proficiency to it, even having hints of the deathcore scene poking through. The music demands the vocals we get, and the pieces fit together beautifully.

"Drown" follows by showing us the two aren't playing by any sort of blueprint. This song is softer, more atmospheric, with the heavy groove only bringing harsh vocals in for the bridge. Dines' guitar tone is dark and heavy, but so tight you can feel his pick attacking the strings. He controls the rhythm of the songs, which is exactly the way I like to hear my metal. They made the album independently, but it's one of the best sounding records of the year. The recording and production is spot-on, and puts every hook and riff right in your face with nothing to stop it from punching you in the mouth.

As more of the record unfolds, and we hit songs like "Skyfall", it becomes more clear this record is actually a hybrid of Killswitch Engage and Light The Torch. It takes the heaviness of the former, with more of the radio-leaning melody of the latter, and puts them together into an intoxicating mix that ebbs and flows, sticking and moving as we get beaten into submission. Do the first notes of the chorus of "Skyfall" echo "Bring Life" from all those years ago? They sure do, and that little twist shows us just how faw we have evolved since then. It may have been unintentional, but I find it to be a crucial moment.

When the first Light The Torch album came out, I talked about how it was the natural continuation of Killswitch Engage's 2009 self-titled album, and I loved it for taking us down the more melodic path that was being signaled. I love this Sion album for a similar reason, because this is the album that could have come afterward to 'course correct' and appease those who wanted that band to be heavier again, as well as those of us who wanted them to be even more melodic.

What's clear listening to this album is that Jared Dines is a huge fan of those records, and Howard Jones hasn't lost a step since then. Together, they are reliving the glory days of metalcore, and doing it better than I think anyone could have imagined when this project was announced. I am the perfect audience to get what they were trying to achieve with this album, and for me, it hits the bulls-eye. This is one nostalgia bomb that I have no intention of diffusing.

Non-Review: Lordi's Seven New Albums

This is not going to be a review.

Lordi this week are releasing not just an album, not just a second album of a pair, but rather SEVEN new albums. This has stirred up enough bile in me I feel like I need to rant a little bit, so that's what I'm going to do.

This all started with Lordi's last album, which was a fictitious compilation that imagined what would have been if Lordi had been around for all of the last forty years. It wasn't the best of ideas, but the execution of it is where things really went off the rails. Lordi has never, in my estimation, released a full album of great material even when they were just being themselves, so attempting to be ten different bands was something well beyond the scope of their abilities.

No one wanted to hear Lordi the disco band, or Lordi the yacht-rock band, and yet we got those songs anyway. Lordi's talents do not extend to those genres, so the record was filled up with songs that were exposing all their shortcomings. It was an experiment, which I can sort of appreciate, but it was an experiment that failed, which they should have realized before putting the record out.

That brings us to today, where Lordi was so in love with that concept they decided to expand on it. Instead of getting one record with all these styles on it, Lordi instead decided to spin off each of them into their own record, which means there are now seven new albums of songs to get through all at once. And the band wanted to make it ten, if not for the label stepping in to stop them.

This brings up three issues.

1. Does anyone think one band can write seventy great songs in one album cycle?

It's possible that a flash of creativity could come up that leads to more songs than every before in someone's life. That being said, seven albums in this day and age is anywhere from fifteen to thirty years worth of a career. Having a bit of experience with this area, I simply can't see how anyone can write that many songs with them all being their best work. When you hear stories about other bands that wrote thirty songs for an album before picking the best ones for the final product, it's almost always the case that most of the songs left on the cutting room floor aren't of the same quality. Every artist only has so many good ideas in their head, and it isn't often you can burn through this many this fast. As I mentioned before, Lordi never proved they could write twelve good ones for one album, so asking for six times that many is beyond belief.

2. Does anyone have the time or attention span to listen to seven albums at once?

We're constantly inundated with new music, movies, tv shows, and everything else under the sun. If we want to, there are enough albums being released to fill all day and all night without ever listening to anything we've heard before. So that leads me to wonder how in the world anyone is supposed to have the time to dedicate to seven Lordi albums all released at the same time. I don't know if I've had a single week in years where I've listened to seven new albums. We all have a limit how much new music we can absorb, and Lordi is exceeding mine, and I would assume most other people's as well. To ask us to spend seven hours listening to their music, when one listen wouldn't be enough to properly assess all this stuff if we are Lordi fans, is requiring a massive investment of time few of us would have. Even if we did have the time, I have to imagine that many songs would all start to blend together, which defeats the entire purpose.

3. What purpose does this serve?

Flooding the market with music very few people will ever listen to doesn't seem like the best of ideas to me. While they generated a few headlines simply due to the absurdity of the proposition, the lasting impact of this experiment is going to be non-existent. If this was an attempt to try to boost streaming numbers by giving people so many new songs to check out, I can see where the idea might have come from, but I fear it will backfire. After hearing that much Lordi, people are very likely to be sick of them, and wanting them to go away for a long time. That wouldn't be what they want. The other thing option is that people will see that many songs, and decide it isn't worth bothering with any of them if they aren't going to listen to them all. That also wouldn't work out well for Lordi.

I fall into that last camp. I'm writing this piece as a gripe, but also as an explanation for why I didn't listen to a single note of these seven new records. Frankly, with how much of my time and energy it would take even to scan through them to see if there is anything worth listening to, it wasn't worth it.

Giving Thanks (For Music)

With Thanksgiving upon us, this is the season of giving thanks and appreciating all that we have. With that in mind, I thought I would take a moment today to stop and think about what in the world of music I appreciated most in 2021. That would be...

My memories.

This year, more than most, I have spent a lot of time thinking about and listening to the music of my past. It was prompted by the number of albums celebrating milestone anniversaries, which you may have noticed in the increased number of essays about them, but it went beyond that. Talking about older records led me to listen to more of them, which then got me thinking about the different relationship I have with music now, as opposed to then.

I pulled records off the shelf I haven't listened to in a decade or more, and it astounded me how much from them I remembered, as opposed to the records of similar quality I listen to these days. Music made a deeper impact in those days, and I'm not entirely sure how much of that to attribute to the psychology of when they were heard. I know our teenage years are when taste is shaped, and when we are most susceptible, but I don't think that fully explains it all.

There is the issue of our heads filling up past the saturation point as more and more music is released and listened to. There is the issue of how we listen to the music, with it becoming more disposable as it shifted to being digital and free. There is the issue of how many chances any record gets these days to make its mark on us.

There is also an issue of life not feeling like it has the same kind of moments anymore. As I was writing those essays about old albums, I can remember what I was thinking and feeling as I heard those albums for the first time, or what moods they were used to pull me out of. Most of them still serve that same purpose. I can't say the same thing about almost any album from recent years. If I think about what I felt when I pressed play on any of them, there isn't anything to find. Part of that is due to this role as a critic, where I'm approaching music from a more analytical mindset, but I think part of it also is explained through psychology.

Much like how there is a saying about there only being seven types of stories, with all of recorded media being variations of them, I'm of the belief there are only so many forms of emotional response. Once we fill those with albums to assuage us, there isn't room for more albums to fall into the same role. Not unless they are outright better than the ones we drew the blueprints from, which we know is difficult, given what we already said about our formative years. That doesn't happen often.

So I am thankful to have the memories of those albums, what led to them, and what they do to me. Without them, there are times when it would be harder to find the right outlet to vent toxic thoughts and feelings. Knowing what works, and what has always worked, comes with a comforting knowledge it will work again when it's needed. Certain triggers are unavoidable, but they are easier to stare down when you know there is something waiting to pull you back up out of that darkness.

Those memories also serve to remind me why I keep searching out new music. Just because those moments are harder to find now doesn't mean they are gone. Songs and albums will still come along that move me, that say something I need to hear at just the right time. Music is necessary, and you never know what you're going to need until you hear it. At least I don't.

Having memories of the power of music gives me hope that the next one is still waiting for me around the next bend. I'm not a person of much faith, but I do still have faith in music, and that stems from the experiences of my past.

That's what I'm thankful for.

Album Review: Rhapsody Of Fire - Glory For Salvation

I lose track of how many times over the years I've talked about my issues with symphonic metal. Every time an album like this comes along, I find myself wanting to be swept up in the epic scope and mammoth sounds, only to be disappointed in the ways the orchestration and the metal are put together. It's more complicated than simply adding layers of strings to a metal song, which is something Rhapsody Of Fire should know from their history, but their history is a whole other story. Suffice it to say, there's a lot of headwinds for Rhapsody Of Fire to cut through.

First and foremost, for those who aren't dedicated fans, is that this is the second album telling this fantasy story. If you missed their previous album, like I did, you'll have absolutely no idea what is supposed to be happening, not that such is unusual for a concept album anyway. Writing lyrics that tell a story is hard anyway, so you might be lost even if you did hear that album. From what I could make of the lyrics to this one, it involves fighting in a snowy kingdom. I'm not entirely sure why they are, or why I should care about this place, but I actually find thinking about what the story is distracting when I'm trying to also enjoy the songs for their own sake.

The other distracting thing about the record is the symphonic nature of it, because it doesn't come across the way it should. The synth patches that often stand in for more organic sounding strings don't have the depth, or the class, a more traditionally symphonic approach would entail. There are points where the music wants to swell, wants to be an epic backdrop, but the production choices make it sound two-dimensional. They occupy the same sonic space as the guitars, so the entire record condenses down to the same frequencies, and it's only when you have a stringed instrument take the lead briefly, that the adornments sound vital to the proceedings.

When the album doesn't get bogged down, it can deliver some great moments. The chorus to "Terial The Hawk" is fantastic, and delivers a rousing metal hymn, without sacrificing the album's vision. Those moments are not as numerous as I would like, with much of the record sounding more like a conveyance for the story than an album we would want to listen to on its own. Such is the danger of conceptual albums, as trying to serve two masters can ensure none are left satisfied. Wait, did I just go BDSM in an album review?

Perhaps I did, because one of the thoughts I had listening to this album was chastity. No, not in the medieval sense of being pure, but in the modern sense of locking your junk up for the pleasure of a dominant. As this album goes on and on, for over an hour, I keep waiting for the time when the payoff comes and it's all worth the waiting and denial of pleasure. Then I realize that moment doesn't come, and we're left without the key to ever unshackle ourselves from the burden.

The only real reason to listen to this album is if you're a die-hard fan of the band, or for some reason you loved the story from the last one. Taken on its own, I don't hear much about this record that demands our attention. Bigger isn't always better, and this is another example of that.

Album Review: Adele - 30

Adele has broken time itself. Her music is timeless, sounding both thoroughly modern and utterly historic in the same breath, but it goes beyond that. Adele broke time by taking the entire music business back to its heyday, where the fever pitch building to an album's release was everything, and the sales exploded like the stock market in the dot-com bubble. To sell records in a time when records don't sell, and to do it by making music that goes against every notion of what is popular, is a feat of pure magic. It's almost as if she has the magical stopwatch from sci-fi stories, and used it to stop time long enough to put a copy of "25" in every household, before letting us wonder how her music feels so familiar.

After breaking sales records everyone assumed were relics of the past, Adele's newest takes on the similarly impossible task of being the defining 'divorce album' for the age of 'conscious uncoupling'. We have a deeper and more nuanced understanding of our psychology than we did in the days when bitter kiss-off songs were expected from any artist going through heartbreak. Are we ready for an album that takes the mature route, explaining that two people can grow apart and realize they don't belong together without there being any animosity between them? That's what we're going to find out.

"Easy On Me" made the case we could indeed do that. With a breezy sound and a vocal that toyed with being off-key on the falsetto runs, it was a raw and real embodiment of the emotions that come from even the best of bad endings. Adele is sad, but optimistic, asking not for our pity, but just a few moments to process what she has gone through. That's a mature way of looking at the situation, and when it's wrapped up in a gorgeous torch song, it comes across as the sort of lesson that should have been handed down through the generations, but never was.

Perhaps there is a disconnect here, however. Adele's power has always come from using her voice as a conduit for heartbreak and pain, and her more nuanced and dare I say optimistic approach to starting the next chapter of her life doesn't really fit with the strengths of the music she makes. "My Little Love" is a song about her son, and I'm sure it means the world to her, but between the slow to develop melody and the clips of voice messages that breaks up the flow, it fails to hold together as an engaging song. And stretching out over six minutes, it's simply too slow and cold a burn to set fire to kindling, much less the rain.

Then there are the backing vocals that open and often dominate "Cry Your Heart Out", which sound both shrill and auto-tuned past the point of death. It's such an annoying sound, tonally, that they stand in complete contrast to everything Adele has ever done. It doesn't feel natural, either in performance or in context of Adele's persona. I could say the same about "Oh My God", but it does at least follow the track taken by "Send Your Love (To My New Lover)". It doesn't dig in the same way, and the hook feels less potent, never giving Adele room to let her voice find her sweet spot.

Throughout the record, Adele feels too restrained. The songs don't take us through the full gamut of emotions she must have gone through, and her voice isn't allowed to tower over the music often enough, depriving us of the very gift that makes her so special. She described the end of her marriage as being tired of being unhappy, and that sense of tiredness is what I get most from the record. The end didn't come with furious anger, and the maturity that has been the best for her life has not been so fortunate when it comes to her music. This record almost sounds, well, small.

Other than "Easy On Me", the song that will become an Adele standard is "I Drink Wine", which is not only relatable for so many people (although not me - I cannot claim to like any form of alcohol), but a song that gives Adele the room to let her personality shine through. It's still laid-back, but this time because she knows she doesn't have to impress anyone. It just works here.

The thing about constantly raising the bar is that you will eventually put it too high to reach. The sales figures for "30" might indeed surpass anything we have ever seen before, but I can't say this record feels like a new zenith for Adele. I know I said the same thing when "25" came out, but that record had so much in it even on first listen that it's growth into her defining statement was not a surprise. I could have foreseen that, if I was trying to write for the future. I don't hear those same ores running through this record, waiting for me to hit upon them.

Maybe it's as simple as living two completely different lives, but I can't connect to these songs. It feels to me like Adele making an Adele record, rather than Adele needing to make an Adele record. This time, the torch is burning just a little dimmer.

Singles Roundup: Sabaton, Porcupine Tree, Scorpions, & The Prize

Just as I don't always want to sound like I'm being overly critical, I also don't want to sound like I'm being overly generous with my praise, so today's group of songs will help to balance some of that out, after we've gotten quite a few promising singles of late.

Sabaton – Christmas Truce

I'm not much of a Sabaton fan, not as much from the music itself, but because of their dedication to telling stories of war again and again. I've talked about how much I dislike the glorification of humanity's worst aspects, and this song sort of plays right into that. It's a perfectly fine metal ballad, if you ignore the lyrics. Telling the story of the Christmas Truce, we get some cringe-worthy lines about "we were all friends", which is utter bullshit unless you have no idea what a friend actually is. Someone who stops shooting at you on a holiday, only to start up again the next day, isn't your friend. Do I have to point that out? In general, I don't know what lesson I'm supposed to take from a song about a horrific war, where the soldiers were able to stop for a day to focus on what was important, only to start the war machine right back up again. Pausing a horror isn't as noble as ending it.

Porcupine Tree – Harridan

After more than a decade, Porcupine Tree is back from a lengthy hiatus. Steven Wilson has talked about not being interested in reforming the band, or in guitar-based music in general, so it's curious to see the band active again. After hearing this first song, I'm rather confused, both in terms of why Wilson felt the need to do this, and why I'm supposed to enjoy it. The song sounds like one of his solo albums, but with a different drum presence, no doubt. It's a rather bland and tuneless track, relying mostly on the good will the band expects to have after their absence. Frankly, this would be a disappointing song after a normal gap between albums. But for a first impression after this long? Oh man.

Scorpions – Peacemaker

Speaking of bad first impressions, we get this song from Scorpions, who have now been unretired longer than they were retired. I only bring that up because I hate being lied to, and I don't want to let them off the hook for it. This song is.... a song. It's the sort of metal that was big in the 80s, where you could get away with playing a basic riff and having your singer blandly repeat a short title phrase without much melodic content. It's so bare-bones it needs brilliant ideas, and those aren't going to be found here. What saddens me most is this will get far more attention and praise than they got for their "Humanity: Hour 1" album, which was the sort of beautifully melodic album an older band should be making. That flopped, and they don't even sound like they're trying anymore.

The Prize – Blood Red Ink

We'll balance out the negativity with something good, which comes from new band The Prize, which features singer Maggy Luyten. I absolutely loved her on the one album she made with Nightmare, and she's bringing her raspy tones to a more rock-oriented sound with this song. There is some cool modern riffing, some very nice guitar tones, but everything is centered on her voice. She delivers the power, the melody, and even some harsh overtones to really drive things home when needed. She is fantastic, and the song delivers more than enough of a stage. For a first impression, this one is a winner.

Album Review: Temperance - Diamanti

It's hard for a band to stand out from the crowd, especially in genres like power metal that are inherently a bit more conservative. Temperance is one of those bands that has managed to do exactly that, from the very first moment I heard them, because of the genius decision they made to have three lead singers who bob and weave their voices throughout the songs. As good as any of them are on their own, the moments when they sing together are what make Temperance not only stand out, but stand apart. More than any of those bands that layer massive choirs, Temperance's approach sounds huge without softening the melodies too much. I absolutely love their vocal blending.

With both "Of Jupiters And Moons" and "Viridian" in their discography, Temperance has a track record of wonderful hyper-pop power metal that gives a different flavor to the same approach Amaranthe has mastered. At their best, their music is addictive, both in sticky melody and beautiful sound.

Storming out of the gates, "Pure Life Unfolds" does everything I love about Temperance. It's a rousing number that gets the blood flowing and fists pumping, with a fast-paced chorus melody that sticks like crazy. Writing that kind of metal isn't easy at all, but Temperance has a knack for making it look that way. But it's proven not to be easy, because the next song is "Breaking The Rules Of Heavy Metal", which drags things down for me. Not only does it not, in fact, break any of the rules of heavy metal, but it continues the long-running trend of songs about metal being hackneyed and embarrassing. If you're playing metal, we already know you like metal. You don't need to also write lyrics to tell us you love what you're doing. It just sounds so forced. Or maybe it's just because I find 'metal culture' to be insufferable.

The band gives each song its own identity, with the title track being sung half in their native Italian, and "Litany Of The Northern Lights" bringing some folk instrumentation into the mix. They're little things that make a big difference when you're listening to these songs as an album, because the diversity is key to making sure the hour goes by without blending into lost time. You wouldn't be able to lose focus during the title track anyway, as it boasts one of the bands biggest and best hooks ever, but I think you know what I mean.

I should also note the mix done by Jacob Hansen, who gives the album enough room for all three voices to breathe. When they sing together, rather than sounding like a wash of vocals under a heavier compression, you can hear each voice clearly, and how they interact as their vocal chords fall in and our of sync. I absolutely love that aspect of Temperance's sound, and it's essential to get it this right.

Despite the differences in the metal elements they bring to the table, Temperance is often compared to Amaranthe, for the obvious reasons. The biggest difference between them is that Temperance's music sounds classier and more charming than Amaranthe. While that band hits you over the head with their hyper-pop, using metal to pound the songs into your head, Temperance uses metal as a weight to keep their fluffy melodies from wafting away on the breeze.

Like always, Temperance has delivered a wonderful album of effervescent power metal and fantastic vocals. They continue to hone their approach, rarely missing the mark, and making this hour of music almost flawless. Do I miss some of the drama "Of Jupiters And Moons" had? Sure, but there's plenty to admire from the band's more focused and polished approach now. In a year that power metal did little to impress me, Temperance is once again the highlight. "Diamanti" is indeed a gem.

Album Review: LA Guns - Checkered Past

Why do I do these things to myself? That's the question you might be asking, given what I said about the last few LA Guns albums. The odds are very good I already knew what my opinion of this record would be long before pressing play, but I still went down that road. So why do I do it? Part of it is the morbid curiosity to see if they have the self awareness to improve, part of it is to compare where they are with the two 'new' Guns N Roses songs that have come out this year, and part of it is needing content to talk about. That last part is me being honest. There aren't always enough records being released I'm truly interested in talking about, so this is the cost of doing business, you might say.

I have spoken harshly about the last couple of LA Guns records, because I feel they deserve it. This recent run the band has been on has consisted of records that don't have memorable songs, and also sound like complete hell. Despite their decades of experience, they are releasing music that sounds like demos for what would still be a mediocre record. The record Traci Guns released with Michael Sweet at least sounded good, even if it wasn't any better written.

Back with his main band, Guns has reverted to the poor guitar sounds that have plagued these records. The band never sounds heavy, or dangerous, or even rocking, with his fuzzy tone that gets washed out by the hazy production. I'm not sure how they wind up sounding like this, but the album sounds like a vinyl with decades of dust built up in the grooves. The sound is weak and dingy, and just plain poor given how easy it is to get great sounds these days. Not much has changed, it seems.

What's weirdest to me is that this album isn't even a hard rock record. The band seems intent on trying to make a trippier Cheap Trick album, which isn't a sentence I ever thought I would be writing. It is interesting to see them trying out these odd tangents, despite how few of them truly work out. The fact of the matter is that they haven't been writing good songs for quite a while, and this album doesn't have many to change my opinion. I like simple music, but it requires the pieces to be sharper if it's going to work. The riffs and melodic ideas on this record aren't so well honed.

I can't say this is a better record than the previous few, but it is at least a more interesting record. Even when it isn't good, it isn't as boring as the band has been in the past. That was a word I could use to describe Guns N Roses' effort on "Hard Skool", which is a better song than anything here, but a complete snore. LA Guns at least makes me rubberneck a bit and ask myself why they're doing the things they're doing, and why they're still getting money to make records. That's not nothing, so I guess we can call that an incredibly minor victory.

Twenty Years In "The Lillywhite Sessions"

"I don't want to listen to sad bastard music."

The character Rob Gordon spoke those words in the movie "High Fidelity", and it's a sentiment I often share. It's easy to fall into the murky dark of a depressive mood, and every song we listen to that comes from that same spirit only makes it more comfortable to stay in that hole. When it's velvet-lined, our hands are more likely to caress the sides than grip into the edge to pull ourselves up and back into the light.

Over the last twenty years, one of my few go-to 'sad bastard' albums has been the same, even if it brings with it moral and philosophical confusion. I remember the visceral reaction the fans had to Dave Matthews Band's "Everyday" when it was released, with the cries of 'sellout' ringing loudly all around. I could appreciate that album for what it was, and I didn't have any problem with the shiny exterior that glossed over so much of the band's identity. It was clear Dave was trying to have a bit more fun, and the reasons for that became clear very soon.

About a month after that album was released, the internet was abuzz yet again, as the recordings from the scrapped sessions for what should have been their fourth album made their way online. Given the title "The Lillywhite Sessions", we were given an unlicensed glimpse into a mindset we were not supposed to see. It's hard to celebrate an album that has never been released, but the shunning of it is part of the charm. What would a sad bastard be if he was embraced?

The raw and unfinished sound of the recordings feeds into the atmosphere, letting sadness and the dark creep in around the edges. Without any shimmering production, no optimism was lacquered over the top of these songs to hide the alcohol and tears the pages they were written on became stained with. Dave's guitars don't ring out as long, the strings dying quicker with every strike. Boyd's violin blends into the mix more, while LeRoi's sax echoes the blues more than ever before. I can hear the black cloud hanging over the band as they were recording these songs, and it's the sort of remnant that can never be replicated. It's why any producer who knows anything about music is in search of the right performance, not the perfect one. Perfection is boring because of how predictable it is, while the accidents of humanity are what let us see ourselves in a work of art.

Even though I was but a high school senior at the time these songs found their way into the world, I suppose I always had a bit of an old soul. The ache that dripped through these songs, whether it was the anguish Dave strains to get out in "Grey Street", or the fragile sobriety of "Grace Is Gone", resonated in the emptiness I felt. While I enjoyed the sugar rush I could get from pop music, that was fleeting, whereas these songs fed my soul.

Not everything nourishing goes down easily, and that was the case for these songs. Just as you can't stare into an eclipse without damaging your eyes, you almost need to be damaged to listen to these songs and get the full effect. They were the product of a wondrous period of inspiration, but they kept both Dave and anyone listening anchored to the ground, unable to rise above the doubts and fears plaguing us. There are great songs in this collection, and great melodies that could have become hits, but they were imbued from their birth with such anxiety they could never give the masses what they wanted. But for the outcasts who spoke this language, it was everything we needed.

In my lowest moments, this album is what I have almost always reached for first. I don't believe in amplifying a mood with music. Listening to miserable music when I'm miserable isn't going to make me feel any better. But despite everything I've said, these songs don't make me miserable. If anything, the sadness carried by these songs is reassuring, because it shows me how much beauty can be wrung from even the worst times in our lives. Pain can be beautiful, if we know how to harness it. This isn't like painting with various shades of our own blood, but it does use the full spectrum of the dark to draw in relief a way forward.

"But oh god, under the weight of life, things seem brighter on the other side," Dave sings in "Big Eyed Fish". That's the message of this collection, that there is no such thing as an eternal darkness. Even in the outreaches of space, we have lights in the sky to look for, to guide us, to power our hopes. In "Sweet Up And Down", Dave sings, "I believe in love, but believe it's my heart that's been keeping me down." Realizing we are the fault, not some cosmic scheme to punish us, is an important step in moving forward. Dave's frequent use of his falsetto for the key moments might sound like his voice is close to breaking, but that is exactly the point. We are what is broken, not the universe.

In a way, I think it's fitting that "The Lillywhite Sessions" has never been officially released. These songs, in this form, are beautiful for their frailty, but they have to be handled with care to survive. The songs that were re-recorded for "Busted Stuff" are less interesting, because they lack the rainy-day atmosphere of the original takes, but that makes them easier to play again and again without remembering why they are so important. Sometimes the light can burn, but it's necessary to grow and thrive. We cannot live forever in the darkness, no matter how comforting the hazy edges of a shadow might feel to tired eyes.

Even after twenty years, little things like the drum roll Carter pulls off in "Grey Street" still move me. I like knowing that dark times can still inspire the best in us to come out, and that these episodes don't last forever. They are moments in time, and no matter how strong the memory of them may seem, figments of the past can only hurt us if we allow them to. As Dave sings, "I am the captain of this ship." He's absolutely right, even if that lesson is sometimes easy to forget.

These songs, on the other hand, are not. Even if they aren't officially an album, this is some of the most important music in my life. Then, now, likely always.

Album Review: All Hail The Yeti - Within The Hollow Earth

Every generation has its own music for the outsiders and downcast. The people who live in the shadows need a soundtrack of their own, one that will always be shrouded in comparison to what the shiny happy people listen to. When I was younger, that music was grunge. I wasn't of the right age or perspective to have embraced it at the time, but it spoke to so many who needed to see the light at the end of the tunnel could be a metaphor for death or salvation, if not both. That would shift in the next generation to nu-metal, where depression turned to anger and self-pity. So what is that music today?

If we judge by All Hail The Yeti, it's not something entirely new, but a blending of the past with the present. Their sound is part Alice In Chains at their heaviest, part Slipknot at their most accessible. The harmonies in "Headless Valley" are straight out of the Staley/Cantrell playbook, but the guitar tone and the shouted verses are pure Corey Taylor. Our memories are a patchwork of moments that burned into our minds, and that psychology is what All Hail The Yeti's music reminds me of. They sound like a collage of some of the most important sounds in outsider metal over the last thirty years.

When we say something sounds timeless, perhaps what we mean is our memories haven't faded enough for the moment to feel like it ever passed us by. Or perhaps it simply means that since almost no band ever retires, time no longer exists in the world of music. The haunting harmonies don't sound out of the moment at all, despite their old reference point. If anything, they sound fresher than the more modern elements to the record's sound. Much as the planets move in cycles, so to does music, and both of the dominant elements of All Hail The Yeti's sound are seeing themselves come back in fashion. How fortunate for them.

What happened after the first wave of grunge is that the influenced bands, unfortunately led by Nickelback, bled the music of any of the actual emotion that made it so powerful. They latched onto the dark tones, but never figured out it was the honest songwriting that was the real key. All Hail The Yeti comes far closer to recapturing that spirit, writing songs and melodies that will work on radio, but don't for a second sound like they were written for that purpose. There isn't a sense of pandering here, the way there is with a lot of mainstream rock and metal.

If we think about time being an hourglass, the sands might get more compacted as they pile up. Condensing the last thirty years, the result would probably sound a lot like All Hail The Yeti. That makes them an interesting thought experiment, or maybe a remnant of memories and influence. Whatever esoteric meaning I might want to attach, the fact of the matter is they are doing something rather interesting within the confines of a tired genre. They took a different path of the evolutionary road than the big names of the mainstream, and they are the better for it. All Hail The Yeti is unique, which we can't say for everyone.

Album Review: Fans Of The Dark - Fans Of The Dark

First impressions are important, because they're hard to shake. Once you see something a certain way, you have to retrain yourself to see it otherwise, and that isn't always easy to do. Case in point; my first impression upon seeing this album from Fans Of The Dark is twofold; 1)The name and the font are too obvious an homage to Iron Maiden, and 2)That creature looks pretty darn stupid. Now, I'm not going to let that be the only thing I think about the band, but it isn't the first impression they might want to make. If the first thing we're led to believe is they don't have an identity of their own, it's setting a pretty low bar.

That lack of identity carries over right away, with "The Ghost Of Canterville" opening the album with Maiden-esque guitar lines, and a slow bass gallop through the verse that is about as stereotypical as you can get. Plenty of metal bands do this sort of thing, but when you pair it with the imagery, it's hard to tell where influence ends and ripping off begins.

"Escape From Hell" borrows more, even some vocal tone, from the Blaze years, but it winds up with an energetic and catchy chorus, so it easily lives up to whatever you think of those years of Iron Maiden's career. "Dial Mom For Murder" also has that kind of hook, and while the lyric isn't as clever as they want to think it is, the song overcomes that by virtue of being fun. The band can play, and they have serious vocal talent, so when the songs give them a platform to showcase that, it's hard to complain about what they're doing.

But there is a complaint to make, and it's that the songwriting doesn't always do what I was saying. There are some solid hooks, but the way we get there isn't always the most interesting. The shifts in tone from passage to passage sound wider than with most bands, which means some of the songs feel a little bit disjointed, as if they're treading water until we get to the part that matters.

For a band that is pointing our attention toward Iron Maiden, they don't adhere to the complaints people have about that band. Some of these songs are too long, too slow, and not packed densely enough with energetic song craft. Maiden themselves put out an album this year that can be criticized the same way, but it had more going for it than this record does. There isn't a song on this album that has the sort of hook you're going to remember later in the day, let alone out of the blue some time later. It's the kind of pleasant record that is fine as long as you aren't paying close attention to it. It sounds good, but won't leave much of an impact.

Singles Roundup: VK Lynne, Ashlie Amber, Slash, & Elvis Costello

Halloween just passed last week, so it's once again time to partake of some fun-sized pieces of music. Let's see what we have this week.

VK Lynne, Ty Christian, & Friends - It Hurts

One thing I really love in music is a pair of voices blending together, weaving around each other in a bit of magic, the waves pulsing stronger for the connection. VK and Ty have made the right choices, picking a Beth Hart classic that cries out for big vocals, supplying them, but then pumping up the music to epic metallic heights. Jim Steinman wrote a lyric wanting "everything louder than everything else", and that sentiment is what makes this cover so perfect. VK and Ty have big voices, and the melody of this song demands big vocals, which they don't hesitate to deliver. The smooth crunch of the guitars add an extra rhythmic element, and keeps the long notes from ever getting bogged down in the pain the song is written to express. It's an interesting inversion on the typical song construction, which lets the song's power come from its most human element. There's more metaphor to be found in how two voices come together, but rather than weigh myself down any further exploring that, I'll choose instead to enjoy this blissful example of it being done so well.

Ashlie Amber – Runnin'

I don't know if I've ever broached the subject of country music here before. As that sentence might imply, it isn't a genre I usually listen to, although I have enjoyed some of the crossover singles Shania Twain, Faith Hill, and Carrie Underwood produced. I also have a fondness for some of Darius Rucker's stuff. I can now add Ashlie Amber to that list, as she embraces that crossover playbook with this new single, which hits all the marks of a great pop/rock song, but has just enough attitude to remind you where it's coming from. Ashlie has a great voice and presence, and with a song like this, it's hard not to like her.

Slash – The River Is Rising

I don't think it's too controversial to say this, but I'll say it anyway; Slash right now is more interesting than Guns N Roses. I have liked the previous three albums Slash has made with Myles Kennedy & The Conspirators, whereas the two songs Guns N Roses put out this year are degrees of lousy, so a new Slash album is much more anticipated, at least by me. The first song from that effort is here, and it continues to deliver Slash's trademark guitar with Myles' penchant for strong and soaring melodies. It fits right in with everything good they've done, except for the production, which is muddy. Slash's guitar lacks bite, and only Myles' shriller tones cut through. It's raw, but not properly balanced.

Elvis Costello – Magnificent Hurt

I never know what to think anymore when Elvis Costello is teasing a new album. It's been a good while since I've really liked one of them ("Momofuku"), but this new song is pointing perhaps in that familiar direction. With a prominent feature of Steve Nieve's synth sounding straight out of the "Radio, Radio" days, Elvis is back to basics with a rocking song to backdrop his lyric. For at least one song, we're given a taste of Elvis doing what he's best known for, and even if I can find fault with the hook not being strong enough, I'm at least interested to see if he's going to make another back-to-basics album after this latest burst of artistic wanderlust. I sure hope so.

Album Review: Jim Peterik & World Stage - Tigress

I don't want to wade into the debate whether or not the term 'female fronted' is appropriate to use. I see why it can be viewed as chauvinistic, but I can also see its use in pointing me towards bands I would be more apt to check out for the very fact I wouldn't have a dude-bro screaming at me. What I would rather discuss is how great it is to see the number of women in the rock and metal worlds constantly rising. Not just for equality's sake; they often bring an element to the music that generic men can't, and I have found myself growing more and more appreciative of that as the amount of music I have heard in my life threatens to flatten everything mediocre into a crepe.

For this album, Jim Peterik has assembled a collection of songs to be sung by a roster of women, which makes this an interesting take on what I call 'jukebox albums'. For that reason alone, I'm giving this album a shot when I otherwise wouldn't. See what I said about the upside to the term?

"Prom Night In Pontiac" features the voice of Chloe Lowery, and takes "Paradise By The Dashboard Light", and refracts it back through the Springsteen prism from which it split. It's a song about youth, cars, and lust, and the hooky chorus makes it an appealing little number, even if it doesn't reach the cinematic heights of either artist it brings to mind. The same can be said of the opening title track, where Kate French's rasp plays beautifully off the strings, and sets a dramatic tone for the record. She returns on the slow ballad "Strong Against The Wind", with hints of Bonnie Tyler ringing in the air. I love that.

Like all albums of this kind, the biggest issue comes when you find one or two voices you love, and they constitute a small portion of the album. With this many singers on one album, it tests our limits to think we're going to love them all, or like them all in equal degrees. What becomes inevitable is to want your one or two favorites to have gotten more of a spotlight, or an album entirely to themselves. I will readily admit to that being true for me.

The other issue is the album being sixteen songs long. That also makes it hard for every song to stand out on its own. A shorter album would feel more focused, and would be stronger without two or three of the less immediate songs getting in the way of the best material. There's certainly enough here to make a very good old-school hard rock record, but it gets a bit watered down simply by virtue of struggling to keep my attention for so long. I get the urge to indulge yourself as an artist, but sometimes discretion really is the better part of valor.

But I'm not going to be harsh on this record, because it doesn't deserve it. There's a lot of 80s hard rock nostalgia to like about this record, and the singers all do an admirable job bringing it to life. Sure, I wish it was pared down to two of my favorites, as I think there's a great album to be made with Chloe in that Springsteen/Steinman mold, but this is a perfectly fine album too. And maybe it will introduce you to a voice you've been needing to hear. That's sort of the point, isn't it?