Friday, December 31, 2021

Looking Back: 2012, Ten Years Later

In this post-holiday period, I thought it might be fun not just to look back at what happened in music this year, but to go further back and get a bit of perspective on how and/or if things have changed over the course of time. Since I have been writing about music for a decade now, I want to go back closer to the start and see what I was listening to and thinking a full decade ago.

So as we head into 2022, this is what I was thinking in 2012...

Looking back, the first thing that strikes me about 2012 was that it was the one and only year I wasn't able to make a choice as to what my Album Of The Year was. There have been other years when I had a lengthy debate with myself, but never again have I succumbed to the cheapest of stunts. I did that in 2012, and I've always felt rather bad about doing so. As a critic, it's my job to have opinions and be able to justify them. I failed in that respect, but what might be even more annoying is that I could still justify doing so to myself even now.

Those two albums were Graveyard's "Lights Out" and Halestorm's "The Strange Case Of...". They pulled at different sides of me, and I was torn between the record I felt was 'better', and the one I enjoyed more. Over the years, those two descriptions have melded together. I get as much enjoyment out of Graveyard now, and I appreciate the craft of Halestorm more. They still pull from different directions, but no longer do I feel the pressure tearing me apart.

If I had forced myself to make a choice at the time, I probably would have given the nod very slightly to Halestorm. Today, I would probably go in the other direction. Halestorm's album is still fantastic, but Graveyard's weighs on me more heavily. It carries an air of importance, and it led me to the band's first two albums, which complete perhaps the greatest three album run of the 2000s. With that in its resume, the honest answer is to say it was the best album of the year.

Next on my list was Trail Of Murder's debut album. At the time, it tried to fill the gap left behind when Urban Breed exited Bloodbound for the second time. Coming off one of my all-time favorite albums, the more Tad Morose styled record did enough to win me over. With hindsight, the record is still good, but isn't everything I made it out to be at the time. "Carnivore" and "My Heart Still Cries" are amazing songs, but I might even say Urban's similar effort on Tad Morose's "Matters Of The Dark" is better. What is strangest about this record is ten years later, there is no follow-up. It shouldn't, but the band's demise dulls the impact of this album.

The rest of my list of favorites consisted of records from Bad Salad, Slash, Flying Colors, Adler, Neal Morse, Tremonti, and Orden Ogan.

Of those, the Adler record has aged the best of them all. Somehow, Steven Adler put together a band that wrote a better album than "Chinese Democracy", and no matter how many times I've listened to it over the years, it keeps getting better as a simple, fun rock record. Not only is it better than "Chinese Democracy", I feel pretty confident saying it would be better than any album the reunited Guns N Roses could come up with, should they decide to make one. Today, I would put that record #3.

Slash's album is also very good, as have been all three he's made with Myles Kennedy and The Conspiritors. Neal Morse's album is the last one he's made I really love. Everything that came after went further down the 'dad prog' rabbit hole, so perhaps I'm looking back more fondly because of that. I don't think so, but it's a possibility. Flying Colors album is still fun, but I can't say I've spent much time at all with either Tremonti or Orden Ogan's records in recent years. If I want to listen to Orden Ogan, I have other albums I would rather reach for, and I will usually take Alter Bridge over Tremonti's solo work.

The point of this is to compare the depth of the past to what I have been seeing recently. In 2012, there were three albums that remain favorites of mine, along with four others I still like a lot, even if I don't listen to them that often anymore. That is actually much the same as today, where I have only a few albums I know I will continue listening to with regularity, a few more I will like as they fade from the forefront of my memory, and a couple more I'm going to question if I do this another ten years from now.

I've been thinking music has been enduring more weak years recently, but maybe that's not so true after all. Perhaps what is happening is I'm better now at sorting out which albums are going to endure and which aren't, leading me to be more skeptical right from the start, not needing a decade to figure out all my choices weren't as good as I thought.

That's an oddly optimistic thought.

Wednesday, December 29, 2021

What I'm Looking Forward To In 2022

Optimism is not always the easiest thing to keep going. Every time a lull comes along, it feels like it might be the end, like we might never get things back on track. Given that 2021 ended up being a moderately disappointing year for music, in my estimation, being optimistic about what 2022 has in store for us might be a fool's errand. If the year coming off a pandemic, when we were supposed to be absolutely flooded with releases from bands and artists who had more time than ever to make new music, wasn't enough to satisfy me, what chance does returning to a more 'normal' year have?

That's a good question. Obviously, there is no way to know right now what is going to come out of the woodwork to grab my attention and win me over, but there are a few things in the works that could be those records. Here's what I'm being optimistic and looking forward to in the coming year.

The (Mostly) Sure Things:

Halestorm - The band has recently finished work on a new record, and it tops the list as the album I'm most looking forward to. I adore Lzzy, and three of their four records are classics to me, including "Vicious" winning Album Of The Year honors. Obviously, that means I am excited to hear what they do to follow that up. "Back From The Dead" was a good single to keep us invested, but hearing Lzzy talk about how the new songs have been a conduit for her to take ownership of her own mental health, I'm even more intrigued. Albums dealing with those issues have been at or near the top of my lists the last few years, so there's every reason to think Halestorm might be able to one-up them all and deliver the sort of spirit-lifting rock experience I feel like I am desperately in need of.

Ghost - A new Ghost album is going to be coming our way, and it will be fascinating to see if they continue on down their more pop-oriented direction, and how much backlash their will be from the metal elitists, as there always is. While all of their record are flawed, I keep thinking their desire to become bigger and bigger will lead them in the right (to me) direction. "Prequelle" was half a step toward that goal, and if they can follow suit by making the rest of the leap, we could have an album that finally delivers on all the promise the band has shown from the very start. Just keep that " " single off of it.

The Winery Dogs - A third album is on the way, the band has promised, and their talk is leading us to think the new songs will be more in line with the first album than the second. That is music to my ears. Their debut album was an amazing one, packed with great playing around the core of great songs. Their second album leaned too hard into their abilities as players, but then they put out the "Dog Years" EP that reminded us how great they can be when they focus on the songs. If their judgment is correct, and this record takes after the debut, then it could very well be a gem.

Elvis Costello - The talk right now is that the new album is Elvis' first mostly 'rock' record since "Momofuku", which is an album that took time, but has ultimately grown on me a lot. If he can recapture that spirit, and sound even remotely like the Elvis Costello most of us became fans of, then it would be a more than welcome return to form. He veers off and explores all sorts of genres and sounds, but he's still best at being himself, which he hasn't been very often these last twenty years. The thought he might once again is rather tantalizing.

The Hopeful Desires:

Avantasia - It's been a few years since "Moonglow" came out, and Tobi has teased us about being in the studio toying with new songs, so perhaps we will soon be in store for another dose of power metal magic. The last two records have found a new groove I've quite enjoyed, and even when my expectations get put in the wrong place, Tobi always delivers a few of the best metal songs anyone in the scene can. While I would also love for Edguy to make another album, the musical alchemy he conjures up with Avantasia would be a nice watershed moment.

Graveyard - I thought a record might materialize this year, since I had heard a rumor about them working on new music. That makes it more likely something could happen in 2022, and I for one can't wait to hear what they have in store for us. Their first three records are so special, and they have put to shame all the other bands playing vintage rock. "Peace" came after a tumultuous period, so the relative calm since then could be just what they need to get back into the mental space to make a record like their early ones. If they could deliver like that again, there might not be enough praise left in my pen.

The Spider Accomplice - New singles are all but guaranteed, but the band mentioned the possibility of putting together an EP, because they have so many songs in the works. As much as I love all the singles they have been putting out, getting more than a bite at a time would be ever so satisfying. That is mostly for selfish reasons. I'll take whatever they have to give, and it sounds like they have plenty, so of course I'm looking forward to their bursts of creative fury.

Monday, December 27, 2021

Singles Roundup: Wagner, The Flower Kings, Elvis Costello, & The Birthday Massacre

 

This week is focused on looking forward to what 2022 could be, so let's start that off by taking up a few songs that will be appearing on albums in the coming months. Do these have anything promising to say about our future?

Wagner - Maybe Tomorrow

I'm going to refrain from saying too much here, because when I inevitably review the album, I have a feeling I will wind up saying something regrettable. The first posthumous release from Eric Wagner is good. What has become clear as he released two Blackfinger albums, two The Skull albums, and now this coming solo record, is he didn't need Trouble if they were going to hold him back with their glacial pace of working. I really liked the last The Skull album, and despite the different branding, this song fits right in with that. Wagner is one of the true voices of doom, and while his voice degraded with every cigarette he continued to smoke, he still fit the vibe. I'm not sure about putting out a song about death, given what has happened, but they might all be about death. A good song.

The Flower Kings – The Great Pretender

I haven't tried to hide the fact that the last couple of Flower Kings records have done nothing for me. Prog loses its appeal when it starts to feel formulaic, given that it's supposed to be anything but, and that's what I felt from those records. This new song is slightly more promising, but maybe that's an artifact of Roine Stolt providing few of the vocals. It sounds just different enough than the usual prog-by-numbers, and that's really an important distinction. It doesn't give me faith they have an entire album that will avoid long forays into dad-prog, but it does mean I'll at least give it a chance.

Elvis Costello – Paint The Red Rose Blue

We're getting a picture of what a 'rock' record from Elvis is at this stage of his career. In a way, he's just going back to his roots, because the records from his classic run are filled with a wide variety of sounds and styles. On the other hand, four decades has stripped off some of the energy and reckless abandon. Despite being 'rock', Elvis is writing from his more 'sophisticated' playbook, where stabbing keyboards are mixing with songs from the old-time songbook. The previews are showing an album far removed from "Momofuku", the last time we got this kind of talk. Elvis is trying to balance the past and present, and I'm not sure yet how it's working out.

The Birthday Massacre – Dreams Of You

I'm figuring out this band is more about atmosphere than the songs. I liked their last album, but despite that, I find myself only remembering two things about it; the amazing first single, and the crushing weight of the atmosphere. "The Sky Will Turn" was an amazing song, but it was unique. This single doesn't have the same level of sly earworm buried within it, but it has the familiar sound that, much like the band's image, sort of sounds purple. The way the guitars and keyboards swirl together makes a thick, shimmering soup, and the vocal is the soft breath cooling it down so we can eat. I'm thinking it isn't a great song, but it's a great experience. Weird, right?

Friday, December 24, 2021

Perfect Albums, But For One Thing...

Maybe it's because of how long I've spent being a critic, or maybe it's because a background in philosophy has trained me to look for flaws even when they may not be apparent, but the idea of a 'perfect album' is a difficult one for me to embrace. I see the term thrown around quite often, with some people able to easily toss off the names of dozens of albums that fit their criteria. That staggers me, since I can do no such thing. Even among albums I dearly love, there is often something about them I would have changed if I was the one in charge. If I can pick out something I would do differently, the album can't be perfect. That makes sense, doesn't it?

So today I'll run through a list of a few albums I still would not call perfect, even though they are among my favorites. I don't think it diminishes them to point out what I consider their flaws. If anything, being able to acknowledge where they fall short strikes me as an indication I have given the subject plenty of thought. There is no hint of throwing a label of perfection on merely anything I like.

Tonic - Lemon Parade/Head On Straight

Few albums mean as much to me as both of these, yet I can admit there is something about each that holds them back from achieving perfection. In the case of "Lemon Parade", it comes in the form of the closing song, "My Old Man". It is a good song, and I have nothing against it, but the pacing of that song at the end of the record has never sat quite right with me. I don't know where else it would fit in the track listing better, but when "Celtic Aggression" ends, I am seldom in the mood to listen to that somber song to finish things off. My complaint with "Head On Straight" is easier to explain. That album contains "Irish", which is the only Tonic song I actively dislike. I cannot connect to the heritage of the song, and it is too repetitive for my taste, so I can't actually tell you the last time I listened to it. Neither issue stops me from loving these albums as much as any, but they do stop me from calling them perfect.

Meat Loaf - Bat Out Of Hell II

This album is the reason I am a music fan, but I'm not going to cut it any slack. Jim Steinman has a major flaw as a songwriter in that he often doesn't know when to stop. The ending of "Everything Louder Than Everything Else" features a coda of bagpipes that was completely unnecessary. Steinman was amusing himself, but it was time that didn't need to be spent. When you have a seventy minute album, every moment needs to be justified. The same is true of the instrumental, "Back Into Hell". It doesn't serve much purpose, and was later rendered even less important when Steinman recycled its themes into a different song. Now, it seems like a demo that appears on a finished record. Hardly perfect.

Green Day - Warning

This underrated gem is my favorite Green Day album, and is one of those binge albums I can listen to repeatedly in a short span of time, but there is one glaring flaw that has been a blot staring me in the face for the last twenty years. That would be the song "Misery", which does not belong with the rest of the album. Among a set of songs that are packed with hooks and more classic rock and power-pop than their previous bratty punk, we get this one overlong track telling a mediocre story through a bland and uninteresting melody. Oh, and there's an accordion on it too, as if that wasn't enough.

Halestorm - The Strange Case Of...

I can say the same thing about the first Halestorm album; some of the best songs got relegated to bonus tracks. The most egregious of these decisions, at least in my opinion, is the exclusion of "Private Parts". I understand they might have left it off the album because it is recorded as a duet, but I consider it one of the handful of best songs they have ever recorded, and while the album as presented doesn't have a single disappointing song on it, I have always been disappointed that the best song of that recording session was only included on the deluxe edition of the album. A switch of one song for it would have improved an already great record.

The Wallflowers - Breach

I love "Breach", and I've gone so far as to say it might be the reason I started down the path of being a writer myself. However, there is a way the record could have been even better. After the initial flurry of classic Americana rock songs, the album's sequencing has a questionable decision that was made. "Witness" is a quiet, somber track that completely changes the tone of the record, but the real issue comes by following it up with "Up From Under". The two slowest, most dirge-like tracks were put back-to-back, stunting the album's momentum, and creating a big enough lull that skipping the latter track is often necessary. As short as the record is, adding one more energetic song to break up the softest numbers would have been a wise decision.

Wednesday, December 22, 2021

The Worst/Most Disappointing Albums Of 2021

I have a bit of a reputation for hating everything, which isn't true, but I know where it comes from. I am not one of those people who holds back when I don't like something, nor am I going to sound like I'm in love if something is merely good, so I tend to sound far mroe negative than a lot of people who talk about music. I don't necessarily mind that, since I also am of the belief that if someone only doles out praise, it isn't very valuable. Hearing both sides, and knowing that the people you're listening to have standards things need to live up to, is the sort of thing that makes praise worth considering.

That being said, there are of course albums throughout a year that are either hugely disappointing, or nearly unlistenable. This is the day when I sum up the year's worst moments, in both of those categories. Let's begin with...

The Worst Albums:

5. MSG - Immortal

Michael Schenker has been putting out bland albums for years, and they continue to get worse as the voices he brings along wear out with age. Everything about their record sounds tired; the writing, the playing, and the singing. Schenker is regarded as one of the best lead guitar players ever, and these records are beginning to sound like nothing more than vehicles for that purpose. To be perfectly honest, I had even forgotten this album came out in 2021, that's how memorable it is.

4. KK's Priest - Sermons Of The Sinner

I am not a Judas Priest fan, but even that couldn't prepare me for the head-slapping boredom that is this spin-off band. KK Downing shows why he is the only person who has missed his presence in Judas Priest, turning out an album of second-rate heavy metal that hits on all the cliches. Ripper Owens delivers another anonymous performance, complete with occasional painful shrieking. The riffs are pedestrian, but inoffensive. The biggest issue are the lyrics, which spend most of the album talking about being metal, the greatness of metal, and other assorted bragging about how manly and awesome KK is for how long and how well he's been metal. It's weak, pathetic, and embarrassing that a man in his 60s still needs to bluster like that.

3. Leprous - Aphelion

Leprous has been making odd albums for a while now, but they have never gone so far down the path of being actively annoying. The angular structures and icy production are off-putting on their own, but the vocal approach taken through the record is what makes this album so disturbingly bad. Einar is trying to make a pop record, but he does so with a warbling falsetto tone that I would pick second to nails on a chalkboard, to go along with melodies that might be interesting if you saw them written on a staff. Hearing them, though, is a good case for wearing earplugs in your own home, and not just for loud concerts. This is an album I truly don't understand the intent of.

2. Steven Wilson  - The Future Bites

I understand that Steven Wilson is tired of making prog records, and that's fine. I understand that he wants to make a record with a more mainstream appeal, and that's fine. But he went and made an 80s pop record that has absolutely no pop to it whatsoever. This sounds to me like Steven trying to make the same shift from prog to pop that Phil Collins made with his solo career coming out of Genesis, but Steven isn't a good enough songwriter in this world. He seems to have no idea what makes a pop melody shine, which leaves this record sounding like an empty shell someone has extracted the candy from. A wrapper does shine, but it's supposed to contain something we actually want. This record doesn't.

1. The Offspring - Let The Bad Times Roll

I don't even know where to begin with this one. The production sounds muddy and cheap, and that's the best thing about it. Dexter's voice is utterly unrecognizable on the first song, and sounds damaged even after that. But what really pisses me off is that after a decade of waiting for a new record, The Offspring give us an album with two filler pieces, two more songs that had been previously released as singles, and a remake of their own song, just so they could try to one up Five Finger Death Punch's cover. When you boil it down, there's barely any new music on this record, and what is here is barely adequate. This album feels like an afterthought, something thrown together to get the fans to stop asking for new music. They got that part right. After listening to this album, I'm not going to want to hear anything new from them. I'm tired of being insulted.

The Most Disappointing Albums:

5. Daughtry - Dearly Beloved

I love the first two Daughtry albums. I won't apologize for that, because they are brilliant pop/rock records. He lost the plot along the way, when he decided to try to stay relevant and modernize his sound, so when the singles sounded like this could be a return to form, I was excited. What's disappointing is that I can hear the attempt, but he only goes halfway. There are elements of the old Daughtry sound on the record, and roughly half of it could go in the right direction, but they never commit to the direction, and the strains of modernity encroach from the other half of the record. It would have been an average album if it hadn't raised my expectations. For that, it must suffer.

4. Heart Healer - The Metal Opera

Magnus Karlsson has written a ton of great melodic metal songs, so what was promised to be his most epic project yet should have been a highlight of the year. Instead, what we ended up with was an album that collapsed under the weight of its concept. Metal Operas are difficult, and one trying to be as orchestrated as this can be even harder. In building such an epic sounding world, Magnus' usual melodic strengths got shunted to the back of the line, resulting in a collection of songs with less hooks and appeal than either of the albums he wrote last year. And when they is coupled by the cast of the usual singers, most of whom are not unique enough to make the characters stand apart, the whole thing becomes a long slog through material I know should have been far better. This is about as boring a record as he has ever been responsible for.

3. Foo Fighters - Medicine At Midnight

I shouldn't be disappointed in this one. Foo Fighters haven't made an album that's really impressed me since "Wasting Light", but what they are always able to do is at least come up with one single that I can add to a playlist of Foo Fighters classics. They are a singles band, after all, which makes it all the worse that there isn't any song on this album I hear as a great single. The entirety of the album is bland, blander, and questionable. To release such a forgettable record in the same year as their Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame induction is only more disappointing, because it puts back in the forefront of our mind how many great songs the band has.

2. Adele - 30

This record had an impossible task. It had to follow a record breaking album that also grew into perhaps the most timeless pop record of the last twenty years. "25" was Adele's masterpiece, showing her to be the most important artist in popular music. Anything that came after would struggle to live up to those standards, and having the secondary burden of being a divorce album, I shouldn't be surprised how disappointed I was in the results. Adele's healthy processing of her relationship has led to her being happier, but her music being less interesting. These songs don't have the burning pain that fueled her biggest songs, and that's even heard in how much of the record is sung with a softer voice. Without heartbreak, without that shared experience, her music has never sounded as old-fashioned as it is. Or as dull.

1. Transatlantic - The Absolute Universe

My favorite prog band pissed me off this year. This album is good, but not this album. Let me explain this again. There are two versions of this album, with different songs and performances between them. That means neither version contains all the best parts I want to hear when I listen to the record. It's disappointing they couldn't decide what form the album should take, because it meant we got saddled with needing to buy two versions of the record, when neither one is what most of us would consider the best possible track listing. Having to assemble my own version, which is unofficial and only listened to by me, is infuriating. This album could have been on my top albums list, if there was a version of the album I wasn't disappointed was missing something important. They shot themselves in the foot, and then tried to tell us the resulting hole was the stigmata. Nope. It was a bad decision that made a good album bad, and that's depressing, not just disappointing.

Monday, December 20, 2021

The Top Ten Songs Of 2021

Every December, I make this list of my favorite songs of the year, and two things will hold true; 1)I'll never make a playlist of them and listen to nothing but my favorites, and 2)I probably won't remember which songs I ended up picking too long into the next year. I know the business is moving back in the direction of singles, but I like to think in bigger chunks of music. Still, a great song is a great song, and these are the ones I'm saying were my favorites from 2021.

10. The Spider Accomplice - Keep

Sometimes, a song will echo what's going on in my own head, and in those times it's like finding a kindred spirit. That happened here, with VK's lyric about barbed wire in her tapestry using a similar image to a song I had finally put the finishing touches on after years of being dissatisfied with one of my best ideas. There was no dissatisfaction with this song, a lovely power ballad finding VK and Arno using acoustic guitars and a delicate touch to wring all they emotion they can from this one. Secrets can be a burden, and that is felt here. What shouldn't be a secret is this song.

9. Halestorm - Back From The Dead

Lzzy Hale gave us this anthem about overcoming your demons and climbing out of the holes we often dig for ourselves, and as she adds extra grit to her voice to push the chorus, it's that voice of hers that is the best salve. Certain singers, and certain voices, are able to say more with less than others. Lzzy is one of those singers who lifts your spirits, even when she's screaming about her own pain. Part of that is honesty, part of that is acceptance. Halestorm's best music is rock and roll therapy, and that's exactly what we needed when this song came along.
8. Kat Kennedy - Party

Last year, I adored Taylor Swift's "Folklore". Kat Kennedy gives me a similar vibe on this song, without it being any sort of copy. Her voice is the key, a breathy and tender tone that sounds as if she's trying to sing without any emotion. It's a sound I've referred to before as 'Daria rock', and it's something I find strangely appealing. The song is about the hangover after a night of togetherness, and it truly sounds like it. It rides the line of being too restrained, but keeps itself on the right side. This is a pop song trying not to sound like one, and the result is a quiet, low-key gem.
7. The Wallflowers - I'll Let You Down (But Will Not Give You Up)

What I love most about this song is the soft swell right before the chorus, which leads into almost gospel sounding backing vocals sitting under Jakob Dylan's broken sounding voice. It's a kind of fractured spiritualism, which plays into the admission of the song's title lyric. If we're trying to find some nobility is failure, this song is a way in which we do that. Trying may be the most important thing, it may be the only thing.
6. Iron Maiden - Darkest Hour

Maybe I love this song because it sounds like it would comfortably sit on Bruce Dickinson's classic solo albums. Rather than the usual gallop, this is a moody quasi-ballad that wraps itself in dramatic flair, where the aging in Bruce's voice perfectly fits the weariness that would come after the battle leading to the 'serenade of glory'. We also get the best guitar soloing from the album, serving as a lovely intermission before Bruce comes back in to get our fists pumping one last time. When he and Iron Maiden are taking this approach, they are still capable of brilliance.
5. Soen - Monarch

As I have said many times in recent years, Soen is everything that modern metal can and should be. Songs like this one deliver heavy riffs in angular rhythms, juxtaposed with smooth vocals delivering simple but unforgettable melodies. Their heavy songs are like a jackhammer, slowly cracking through our exteriors, then pouring those melodies in to seal ourselves shut again. It will then be a part of us, and what makes Soen special is not just that they do this again and again, but they do it in a way no one else can. "Monarch" can only be a Soen song.
4. W.E.T. - How Do I Know?

I'm a well-known sucker for power ballads, and here we are again. On their last album, I adored when W.E.T. offered up a song with hints of Steinman-esque pomposity. They do it again here, with backing vocals sounding like an epic choir waiting for us at heaven's gate. That's hyperbole, of course, but there's a thrilling burst of glory that comes through. It's the sort of song I can't help but smile listening to, where I may not be able to explain what makes it more special than so many others that are like it, but I can feel it. It's a bit of a warm hug of a song.
3. Smith/Kotzen - Taking My Chances

It's hard to make blues-based rock.... well, rock. So often, the genre gets bogged down in the misery, but Adrian Smith's metallic edge not only gives this song a crunchy riff to build off, it imbues so much energy that Richie Kotzen's melody come the chorus is electric. Their singing of the title together invites a sing-along with us, and then the song snakes away from us, leaving a glistening trail we can't help but follow.
2. Alicia Witt - Down She Goes

No song this year was a better example of how to make classy sounding pop music than this one. Alicia's music is mature and sophisticated, and the tone of her voice is reflective, yet perfectly suited to the breathy rush of pop music. Like a spun sugar ornament, Alicia's voice and the song are both beautiful, but the fragility is apparent at all times. The sheen caught my eye, then the craftsmanship wowed me. The moment after the bridge where the piano feels like it misses a beat before turning to the last chorus is amazing, echoing the way our hearts can feel like they skip in the moment when we are flush with passion. I love that.
1. Tonic - To Be Loved

This came as a surprise, as I had pretty much given up on the prospect of getting new Tonic music again. I had accepted that, and then this song came along. My first thought was how no song could live up to the expectations of a favorite band after a decade of inaction. My second thought was just how stupid happy it made me to hear those familiar sounds again. Listening to Emerson's voice and Jeff's guitar details felt like an old friend, three minutes that summed up pretty much everything I love about Tonic. Sure, the melody burrowed into my head the more I listened to the song, and the riff shows the genius of simplicity, but it's more a feeling than anything else. Tonic gave me a feeling I wasn't expecting, and I'm not sure anyone else could replicate, so of course it was my favorite song of the year.

Friday, December 17, 2021

The Top Ten Albums Of 2021

If there was a surprise this year, it was the difficulty I had in assembling this list. We all kept hearing that 2021 was going to be filled with a glut of new music, since all the artists who were unable to tour during the pandemic had spent the time writing and recording new stuff. I'm not so sure that happened. There might have been a few more releases than usual being released, but it wasn't an uptick as notable as I was expecting, and the number of releases I was interested enough in to give a listen was pretty much the same as ever.

I have always had a fairly consistent ratio of albums liked verses albums listened to, and with the latter number not increasing, that meant this year was once again one where I had a handful of albums I love quite a bit, but not enough to use that descriptor for all ten I will talk about here. That's the way it usually works out, but I was expecting more, so I have to say this year is considered a bit of a disappointment. That said, there was still great music to be found this year, so let's talk about the best of the best.

Honorable Mention: Iron Maiden - Senjutsu

I'm an odd lot, since I prefer proggy reunion Iron Maiden to the 80s classic era, and yet I can't say I really like "The Book Of Souls". There is a point where things get stretched out too far, which that album did, and this album comes close to. Everything leading up to Steve Harris' three closing epics is great, doing exactly what I like modern Iron Maiden to do. That fifty minutes would be a fantastic album. Adding in "Hell On Earth" pushes us to the brink, but is still a wonderful hour of music. I like to ignore the other two songs, which is how this album makes it on the list. There's enough here to like I don't feel bad about how much I skip. It isn't quite another "Dance Of Death" or "The Final Frontier", but it's not too far behind.

10. Apostolica - Haeretica Ecclesia
In a year when Powerwolf released a new album, this band that takes a page from their book actually made the better record. With gruff vocals and epic swells, they milk as much drama out of power metal as can be done. The atmosphere is a bit sinister, and like a horror movie it gets off to a slow start. But once the record hits its stride, it reminds me both that power metal is still one of the few places left where we can have fun in music, and that a well done gimmick has its place. I'm thinking even Ghost is going to have a hard time doing better.

9. Laurenne/Louhimo - The Reckoning
Music should be pretty simple. If you get two great singers, and give them good songs, how can you go wrong? Don't actually ask that, because it does happen. It doesn't here, as the two ladies get an album of heavy songs with strong melodies, which perfectly fit their raspy and powerful vocals. Noora has established herself as a superior singer, but Netta more than holds her own, and the times when their voices blend together are sublime. The production could highlight those bits a little more, but of all the assembled 'star' vehicles Frontiers Records put together this year, this is clearly the best of them. There's so much to like.

8. Inglorious - We Will Ride
I thought Inglorious had hit their high water mark on their previous album, but then they went and topped it by finding the perfect balance between blues and melodic rock. The roots of their influence are still clear enough to know where they are coming from, but the songs escape the swampy mire a lot of blues gets caught up in, instead focusing on their melodic cores. This album is full of great vocals singing big hooks, with just enough heaviness and swagger to be purely rock and roll. Their best album yet is one of the best examples of how to do this right.

7. Alicia Witt - The Conduit
I loved Alicia's "15,000 Days" EP, and her latest full-length didn't disappoint. What we have is a true songwriter's album, traversing between her sophisticated and upbeat pop songs, and torch ballads that showcase the fragile qualities of her voice. Sounding like the 70s albums it references in the lyrics, Alicia displays her versatility as a writer and performer. Her voice ties everything together, as does the aura of class that hangs over everything. This is an adult album, speaking to the humanity in us that is only uncovered once enough dust has settled on our souls.

5B. Light The Torch - You Will Be The Death Of Me
The band's first album was the spiritual successor to one of my favorite albums, so naturally it was close to being Album Of The Year. The follow-up record carries on with the same spirit, blending heavy down-tuned metal with the big hooks and bigger vocals of Howard Jones. His voice is deep, emotional, and immense, filling every cavity of the production and making this record sound larger than life. They pack every song with a huge chorus, straddling the line between chugging metal and radio rock, and they do it effortlessly. The first record might be a touch better, but we're splitting hairs.

5A. Sion - Sion
It feels natural to put these two albums together. If Light The Torch is an evolutionary successor to my favorite Killswitch album, this is a evolutionary successor to Killswitch's most defining album. If you took "The End Of Heartache", and gave it today's variety of heaviness and today's radio rock melody, this album would be the result. Metalcore can be a stale genre, but this album melds the classic and the modern beautifully, and balances moments of truly harsh screaming with great, catchy melodies. It taps into a nostalgic feeling I have for how much "The End Of Heartache" changed things for me when I heard it, and few albums have been able to do that. I didn't know how much I wanted this until I heard it.

4. Rise Against - Nowhere Generation
Fans were not so high on "Wolves", which is the album where Rise Against finally clicked with me. Despite a frosty first impression, "Nowhere Generation" is a worthy follow-up that continues to deliver the weary dissatisfaction of punk in the form of hugely melodic songs. This time the band sounds less angry about the state of the world, which is a curious turn of events, but society still has enough ills to fuel another batch of great tunes. Like the saying about sugar making the medicine go down easier, the sturdy and infectious hooks on this record keep the band's message in your head. The record might have been even better with a bit more grit or energy, but it's a fantastic and mature way to air grievances.

3. Smith/Kotzen - Smith/Kotzen
This is the surprise of the year, bar none. I would not have expected much from a collaboration between Richie Kotzen and Adrian Smith, and yet their album of bluesy classic rock filled to the brim with searing solos is absolutely one of the best albums of the year. They dial in some great guitar tones, play wonderfully off each other, and remember that the songs are all that really matters. This is not just a fantastic guitar album, as the two deliver amazing vocal hooks to make this truly special. They clearly love classic rock, and just so happen to have delivered an album that exceeds almost all of it.

2. The Wallflowers - Exit Wounds
For most of the last twenty years, The Wallflowers have been one of my favorite bands. The run from "Bringing Down The Horse" through "Breach", "Red Letter Days", and "Rebel, Sweetheart" is some of my favorite music ever. But after their first attempt at a comeback was a bitter disappointment, my initial listens to this album convinced me I was still being disappointed. I was wrong about that, and now hear "Exit Wounds" as The Wallflowers finding their way by finding themselves. Jakob Dylan is older now than he was then, and the band sounds the same way. They cut to the core of their sound, Dylan's poetry and classic Americana rock and roll, but add in a bit more folk flavor this time around. That is befitting their age and their place in the world, and the result is an album that is the natural extension to their legacy I wanted all along. It isn't "Breach", but neither of us are who we were then. This is us now.

1. Soen - Imperial
All year long, I kept looking for ways to avoid this. Other albums made strong cases, and I wanted to go in those directions, but at the end of the day the one album this year I couldn't deny was "Imperial", the third straight Soen album to win Album Of The Year honors. Five albums into their career, the band continues to hone their sound, focus their songwriting, and take a step forward each and every time. This record is their most concise and focused yet, cutting off the progressive fat for a killer instinct. The heavy rhythms have never sounded sharper, Joel's vocals have never been more assured, and the melodies have never been better. Soen is the embodiment of everything I think modern metal can and should be, and once again they put to shame all the other bands who haven't figured that out. Heavy, challenging, engaging, emotional, beautiful; Soen is all those things. They also, once again, have made the best album of the year.

Wednesday, December 15, 2021

D.M's Top 11 Albums of 2021

May we please start with talking about how happy I am about this list?  Legitimate difficult decisions had to be made in order to compose the list you’ll read below, and make no mistake, that’s a wonderful thing.  Not since 2014 have I been so privileged as to have to agonize who’s going to make the final, very finite, cut.  

To add on to the lengthy and probably overly analytical conversation that Chris and I had, I think part of what’s happening here is that maybe, hopefully, fingers crossed, the baseline of music is improving.  Does that necessarily mean a new wave, a burgeoning fad that will sweep the music-imbibing public and usher us into a blessed era of radio-conquering prosperity?  Nah, probably not.

But don’t lost hope!  Part of what really sets this list, and the choices it forced me to make, apart from some of its predecessors is that a number of bands, many listed here in the embellished Honorable Mention section, fell into two groups – they either wrote amazing singles, but couldn’t maintain that momentum over a full album, or wrote a great, memorable record, but not so different from their previous accomplishments.  Originality, or in a baser sense, novelty, can break ties here.  So, there’s good news all around; there were a lot of worthy records that are still worth the investment of your time even if they didn’t crack this list, and also that this list must contain, as the kids say, some real bangers.  Shoot, I'm even giving away the elusive EP of the Year award, which I don't get to do every year.

Brushing all that aside, here’s part of the litmus test for me with how highly I personally consider the list below – when my coworkers at the office, who are dimly aware that I might be a person of varied interests when separated from the confines of my career, asked me who my top artists where this year, I could rattle off all eleven of these records without a second thought.  I haven’t been able to do that in literal years.

Before we begin, a recap of the rules:
-All qualifying albums must be original studio material – no live albums, no compilations, no re-releases, no covers albums.
-There are eleven albums here, because, of course, it goes to 11.
-Honorable Mention would normally just be one album, but I’m so pleased with 2021 as a musical year (and only as a musical year,) that I’ve decided to reward a number of albums.

Without further ado, here we go:

Honorable Mention (in alphabetical order) -

The Browning – END OF EXISTENCE
Charred – PRAYERS OF MALEDICTION
Employed To Serve – CONQUERING
Fear of Domination – VI: REVELATION
John 5 & The Creatures – SINNER
K.A.A.N – KAIZEN
Phantom Elite – TITANIUM
Powerwolf – CALL OF THE WILD
Steel bearing Hand – SLAY IN HELL

EP Of The Year – The Hawkins - AFTERMATH


Not going to go into a ton of detail here for an EP, but man, why isn't there more of this?  I mean, I get it, leave them wanting more, but there's barely enough here to know I'm thirsty for this!  Infectious and groovy and melodic and perfectly paced.  A lot to like.


11 – Andrew W.K – GOD IS PARTYING


I have been doing a year-end best of list every year since I dared call myself a music journalist, which was all the way back in 2008.  To that point, Andrew W.K's iconic "I Get Wet" had been released six years prior, and his career was already considered long past toast.  Now, nearly twenty years after the revelation that you truly could write a record where every song was about partying, we get another worthy landmark in the pantheon of Andrew W.K...and it's about as far from a party album as you can imagine.  Moody, temperamental and introspective, Andrew W.K wanted to show us all that he could execute a serious record while performing all the instruments himself, and he did just that, with great aplomb.  It is true that this is a singles record - not every song here is a home run.  But the moments that are elevated to greatness are sublime in their orchestration.


10 – We Butter The Bread With Butter – DAS ALBUM


I liked this album a lot the first time I heard it.  To the point where I would be listening to it in idle moments at work, and coworkers were starting to notice (generally followed by either a request to know what that awful racket was, an ask to turn it off, or some combination of the two.  Philistines.)  Then, suddenly it was lost to me.  And now, in reviewing everything I listened to this year, it finds itself back in the fold, earning top honors.  I won’t lie, it’s not the easiest listen – there’s a density of sound here that rivals anybody on the market, to the point where the album can be physically exhausting to listen to if you’re not prepared for it.  The deep bass tones and cavernous percussion are relentless and insistent, but if you’re willing to distill the music a little, there’s a lot of rhythmic sensibility contained in here, and once you get a taste for that, the album unfolds.

 

9 – Beartooth – BELOW


Let’s not bury the lede – the opening riff of “Devastation” is the best pure adrenaline guitar riff written this year.  And that’s no idle boast or one-off, because “Below” is end-to-end positively turgid with great riffs.  Real down and dirty metal purists are going to balk at the dramatic, melodic, singalong choruses that borrow from less authoritarian heavy genres, but don’t be intimidated by their ignorant condescension.  Beartooth can hammer with the best of them, and excels in writing songs that can change gears but still stay coherent within the musical narrative.  I feel like if I say “Below” is a rich man’s Avenged Sevenfold album, that both obfuscates some of the album’s genius and belittles the idiomatic accomplishments of both bands (because “City of Evil” is awesome,) but for some reason I can’t get that phrase out of my head.

 

8 – 6:33 – FEARY TALES FOR STRANGE LULLABIES: THE DOME


France, as a country, has for centuries been considered the beating heart of European art and culture (with apologies to Italy and specifically the city of Florence,) so refined and so scrutinizing in its taste that what the French culture deems worthy of merit must truly be beyond reproach.  So it logically follows that only a French experimental band could get away with writing a devilishly catchy song called “Holy Golden Boner.”  6:33 returned for the first time in six years with an album that made up for lost time by putting more words in the title (bonus points for a cool album cover,) and also stands as a stark improvement over the charming but flawed “Deadly Scenes.”  Regardless, at its best moments, 6:33’s music always sounds like a collection of demented, impish showtunes, and “Feary Tales” provides a whirlwind trip of exactly that over its wayward one-hour runtime.  Close your eyes and you can almost see the choreography.

 

7 - Vaelmyst – SECRYPTS OF THE EGOCHASM


As Chris and I have discussed at some length on this site over the years, there are several splinter genres of metal that have been all but played out – there’s little to no more room for experiment, expansion or idiomatic adjustments.  We normally make this argument with specific regard to power metal, but if we’re being honest in our heart of hearts, death metal is also in many ways a dry well.  And yet, Vaelmyst found a way to take all the desiccated mores of an overplayed idiom and revive them in such as a way as to be interesting and novel and dare I say, catchy?  The concept of catchy death metal often seems like a contradiction in terms at best and anathema to a possessive fanbase at worst, but the fact that I caught myself humming some of Vaelmyst’s better riffs during quiet moments at work speaks to the power that this band has unlocked.  And that was after having listened to the record just once.  I found myself going back to this album over and over throughout the months subsequent to its release, whenever I needed that particular fix for death metal done right.

 

6 - Erdling – HELHEIM


Erdling and I have danced around for a few years ago, but we’ve never been able to connect in any meaningful way.  Their album from last year, “Yggdrasil,” is as close as we’ve come to me giving them real accolades….until now.  For this, their fifth full-length album, Erdling locked in on the magic formula and found just the right combination of melody and groove and synth-industrial might to make “Helheim” stand out not only from their own catalogue, but from the effort of a lot of worthy contemporaries this year.  By the way, singles be damned, “Vogelfrei” is the best offering on this record.  NDH has spread out from beyond it’s original borders by a wide margin, but Erdling is proving that the home country still brews some of the best.

 

5 - CueStack – DIAGNOSIS: HUMAN


This was a latecomer to the list, and I admit that there may be some projection here on my part – “Diagnosis: Human” reminds me in many ways of the pomp and circumstance and hook-y energy of Peter Tägtgren’s excellent side project PAIN, and my fandom of that band is such that I might be pleased just to hear something that reminds me of that in the first place.  That’s not to say that CueStack can’t stand on their own, far from it – they exist at the burgeoning crossroads of electronic music and metal, and this debut full length shows the promise of a full synthesis of the two genres, ranging from the typically aggressive to the impressively muted.  In what typically can be a caustic mix of overwhelming sounds, CueStack found a way to weave some nuance into presentation, so the ceiling is high.

 

4 - Fear Factory – AGGRESSION CONTINUUM


I’m grinding my teeth a little that I have this album this high, but game has to recognize game (the implication here is that I also have game, when most contemporary evidence points to the contrary.)  As I said at the time of release, I didn’t want to like this album, since it was released on the heels of the most serious acrimony of a band who has spent much of their career soaking in acrimony.  Some of the members may be possessed of some…difficult….character traits.  Nevertheless, this is the best Fear Factory record since “Archetype,” and it’s not especially close.  Maybe even since “Obsolete.”  All of the proper violence of the band’s, well, archetype, is represented here in full, but couched within that cacophony is the proportionate mixture of riff and groove that has always made FF stand out from their contemporaries.  This is a really great effort, regardless of circumstances.

 

3 - Bokassa – MOLOTOV ROCKTAIL


In cooking, there is often equal reverence for the competing skills of ornate, detailed and time-intensive preparation, and the ability to do the simple with a level of practiced magnificence.  Bokassa’s album from 2021, “Molotov Rocktail,” fell squarely into that second camp.  Mixing some tenets of stoner rock, gutter punk and straightforward metal, the band assembled a roaring diesel engine of edgy rock, blending all the complementary elements into the blast furnace at its heart.  The album also possesses a chef’s kiss blend of sarcastic fun, gritty realism and implied menace to make for a listen that’s easy and accessible, but never boring.  The entire proceeding is punctuated with chant-worthy punk sing-along choruses that help bind the hooks and melodies into easily hummable touchstones.  In the modern era of music, it’s hard to impress solely by doing the simple things better than anyone else, but that’s what Bokassa has done here, and they should be celebrated for it.


2 - Dead Poet Society - -!-


What’s happening to me?  There was a time in my life when I would have bypassed this album without a second thought.  Maybe I’m becoming more open-minded, or, as I prefer to think, perhaps the world has finally come around to see music my way (unlikely.)  If I said to you ‘Breaking Benjamin on steroids,’ that’s an oversimplification of what’s really happening here, but it lends some idea of the contents of “-!-“. The attraction to Dead Poet Society’s album comes from the deep juxtaposition of earnest, clean vocals and impossibly throaty rhythm.  It’s an insistent, deep sound that hasn’t really been heard since the microcosm of Soundgarden’s “4th of July,” and Dead Poet Society artfully stretched that out into an entire record.  The record doesn’t utilize a lot of virtuosity, but as rare as it is to say, that kind of styling is unnecessary here and would have actually been a mistake.  “-!-“ is all about fury and emotion and the undulating earth beneath our unsteady feet.

 

1 - Cave of Swimmers – AURORA


It doesn’t seem possible that the best album of the year could be produced by a mere two musicians, but here we are.  While “Aurora” is impressive in its depth and intricacy and layers, the album also impresses upon the attention from the first strains.  Riding that line between instantly catchy and philosophically interesting is perhaps the most difficult of all feats in music, especially in metal, where one is almost invariably sacrificed for the good of the other.  And that’s before we reconcile with the idea that the lyrics and themes from this album range from the relatable, to the typically prog, to the utterly ridiculous.  Yet every moment is packed with some distinct hook, some well-orchestrated edge, some synthesis of percussion and guitar that rings true in the ear in the listener.  “Aurora” is as bold a statement of arrival as we’ve had in recent years, and Cave of Swimmers is not to be missed.

 

 

Monday, December 13, 2021

The Conversation: 2021 In Review

CHRIS C: Every year, I muse about how absurd it truly is that we divide our lives into segments based on where on a never-ending circuit through the universe this rock happens to be. This year, however, I'm less inclined to that sort of philosophical meandering. If ever we needed to be able to draw a line and separate one year from another, it's right now. Last year was one we will never forget, and this year hasn't been quite the return from the brink we were hoping for. The world is getting back in the swing of things, but I don't know if we'll ever be 'normal' again. for whatever that's worth. What is normal anyway?

Music was supposed to be a saving grace this year. With all the artists who were in lockdown last year, we were supposed to be on the receiving end of a flood of new releases, perhaps even the most we have ever seen. I'll begin our discussion of the year in music by asking one simple question; did we get that flood?

We will debate the good and bad, the trends and the news, but I've been thinking about the totality of music I listened to this year, and I can't say I saw many differences in terms of the raw number of releases I was encountering. There was one label in particular that upped their output, but in general it felt like any other year to me. I was hoping for something more, maybe for some more unexpected bands to return with new albums, but in the end this year was just another year.

We've gotten into this before, but perhaps this is a result of our own rules for ourselves. I continue to feel, as I believe you do as well, that there are only so many albums any one person can listen to with the requisite amount of attention. If the number of albums being released increases 25%, I'm still likely to listen to the same number of new releases, so it might just be that I have set myself up to miss out on what is actually happening. There was a time I would have been bothered by that, but not anymore. I am more comfortable than ever missing out on a few things if it means I'm getting to focus on the things I am more interested in.

To that effect, I intentionally didn't listen to plenty of albums I often would have listened to just to say I listened to them. I don't feel like my year is any the worse for that decision. But before I get too far into the weeds, what were your foremost impressions of the year?

D.M: Can we be real here for a second?  I think my impression of the year, musical or not, is that we didn't have a year.  Oh, we tried to.  As the title of the popular sub-Reddit goes, "there was an attempt."  But we didn't really.  We just wandered aimlessly through a strange, nebulous, altogether uncomfortable and uncertain transitory period that never moved out of being a transitory period.  Sure, I went to some concerts, and it felt right and good to do so, but for anyone to suggest that it constituted what would normally be regarded as a 'year' is myopic and naive.

Now, how does my fervent cynicism reflect on the musical universe we find ourselves inexorably immersed in?  Well, I'm not sure we had a year there, either.  I can everyone now - 'of course we did, there were releases and albums and tours and all the things that make for a musical year."  Sure, that's all true.  But there didn't seem to be much progression from year's prior, and I think there's a fundamental disconnect between our logical expectation and what we actually received.

Allow me to explain that - There was general consensus that everyone who was holding on to a record in 2020 was going to release it in 2021, and it would be piled on top of the 2021 releases already in the hopper, but I think that only half materialized.  For starters, it's probably fair to argue that there are musicians, whose sole source of musical income comes from live performances, waiting and hoping that if they can hold out just a little longer, they'll be able to tour unencumbered and without restriction, never mind the renewed confidence of the fan to seek out such an event.  To that end, they might be holding on to releases so that they have new material to support.

I think we also assumed that the music business operated in some parallel bubble to the one we were all living in.  Labels great and small can only process and properly promote so much at a given time; same goes for promoters.  And since every industry on the planet seems to be short of workers, it's not such a stretch to suggest that the various cogs of music are short-staffed as well.  So in the end, the glut never came because we weren't collectively farm-to-table ready for it.  

Conversely to your experience, I actually think I did manage to listen to more stuff this year, though that had to do with some changes in my circumstances (for the better,) than it had anything to do with the flowing faucet of releases.  Most of all, I'm pleased to say that of the twenty finalists I currently have for my top eleven albums of the year, fourteen of them are artists new to me, which is a great feeling, though that does come with the caveat that I've yet to listen to new albums from Fear of Domination, Volbeat and Hypocrisy, which could all wedge their way into consideration.  I also haven't yet done my annual scour of the year in rap to see if there are any new gems to be unearthed there (and I remain bitterly disappointed that Kendrick Lamar did not release new music this year.)

I guess, to answer the question you actually asked in a more direct manner - my impression of the year is that even with some bright spots, the feeling of separation from whatever constituted a normal year in the past and whatever constitutes this new normal leaves me with the stark, unshakable conviction that this year, as with last year, is best labelled "incomplete."  Risks were averted, chances not taken.


CHRIS C: We shouldn't be surprised by the lack of a year, as you put it. At the end of the decade, we did come to the conclusion the entirety of the last twenty years is pretty much one decade. For whatever reason, and I don't want to blame the stupid line Matthew McConaughey used in that tv show, but time is indeed becoming 'a flat circle'. That's the biggest thing I'm noticing. Time, whether in life or in music, doesn't feel like it's divisible anymore. It's all blending together, and that's not just the ongoing pandemic talking. It was like that even before we entered these weird times.

Your point about the music business is well taken, but also interesting to consider. I hadn't given much thought to the physical limitations of the labels to get music out to the masses, but you are right about the limitations of the production line to get CDs and vinyl records pressed and ready to be sold. Now that I think about it, I have heard about several albums that had to be delayed briefly while they waited for the plants to be able to finish the run of vinyl. I'm not sure how much of that was a supply chain issue, and how much was Adele reportedly having half a million copies of her album at the front of the line, but it was very much a real thing.

That does have another angle to it; are there enough people still buying physical product for these issues to be getting in the way? Streaming is now the unquestioned dominant form of music listening, and we see releases coming along that never get a physical release at all, so is that the future we're looking at? I still like to have physical copies of my favorite albums, but that is a dying attitude. This year, for instance, I only acquired five new albums from everything I heard, and there aren't really any more I would really want to get. If that is at all representative, the supply chain issues don't strike me as something worth holding up too many albums over, unless the profit margins on these things are far larger than I'm thinking they are.

I also find myself wondering why albums and tours are still so interconnected. I feel like we have proven through the years there isn't much tying the two together anymore. At least for bands of note, that is. We see Iron Maiden, Tool, and the like head out on the road and do the same business whether they have new music to promote or not. So I do understand why bands would be frustrated about not being able to hit the road this year like they wanted to, I'm not sure what holding off on their albums until the tours can be booked would achieve. You're the concert-goer of us, so perhaps you can explain better if new music does anything for a tour these days. All I seem to hear is that "here's a new song" is the signal for people to head to the bathroom.

My list of favorites this year is not as flush with new bands. There are a couple in the mix, but this year's weirdness sent me in the opposite direction, preferring to wrap myself in sounds I already love. That applies both to the list of new albums, with some returning favorite voices powering many of the albums, but also in the tilt of my listening, where I was getting more nostalgic than usual. I can't blame that on a round number birthday, or even an unprovoked burst of an existential crisis. With time standing still, and normalcy still far out of arm's reach, I suppose I just wanted to hear music that brought back better feelings.

So let's continue on with this question; what was the biggest surprise of the year for you? Good or bad, or maybe both.

D.M: Pursuant to your point about streaming, I don't know if the lack of a sudden explosion of music has to do with a material shortage for pressing so much as it does the human element of promotion.  You and I work closely with a somewhat wide menagerie of characters in the promotional sphere, and hey, they can only successfully work on so many albums.  It's a human capacity that may have had a hand in holding back the flood.  I daresay that one of the things we learned as a work force during the pandemic is that our lives are more than our work, and that there's a rate of diminishing return on how many extra days/hours/projects you can take on at one time.

Half a million Adele records?  Really?  I'm actually somewhat surprised that it's only half a million pieces of vinyl.  Also, I'm out of the loop - Adele had an album?  Was it any good?

Sidebar - Greta Van Fleet had a new record?  Did anyone notice?  Their hype machine was so overwhelmingly intrusive the first go-round, I just assumed I would naturally osmose information concerning any new releases from them.  Either I was more withdrawn that I thought I was, or the moment has passed, so to speak.

The key phrase you used in the connection between tour and new material is "for bands of note."  If you're Iron Maiden, sure, you probably don't need to release another album for the rest of your natural lives (but you will, anyway, because there's always a chance you can attract some new blood that's come of age,) but if you're Within The Ruins or Blues Pills or whomever, you can't rest on your catalogue.  And the musical attention span of fans is short (I'll never forget a friend I had in college radio who swore that any album that had been out more than four months was old,) so the tour always coincides because you have to strike when it's hot.  Fans are more selective than ever with their concert dollar, so your band needs to be front of mind with a fresh look when you hit the road.  Even Graveyard, whom we both love, has to do this - they came of age after the era of widespread radio distribution for rock, so they don't have the benefit of the bands of similar style who came before.  Perfect example - Shortly after Beartooth released their album this year, they were going to be in my town.  I intended to go because I'd never been a huge fan of theirs but liked their new album quite a lot (is that a spoiler? Maybe!) and if they hadn't been coming through right on the heels of a record I liked, I don't know that my admittedly fair-weather fandom would have extended more than six months.

Which I think dovetails into my biggest surprise of the year, which actually is about myself.  I found my famously fragile patience for music even shorter this year, for reasons unknown.  I've lamented before that I don't necessarily love that I have become the stereotype of the crusty, bespoke-suited record exec in the wood-paneled office who hears ten seconds of a band and knows if he should cast them out or not.  This year, it was worse!  This is journalistically irresponsible of me to admit, but there were albums, especially here at the end of the year, that I deleted based solely on album cover and the design of the band's logo.  IS THIS WHAT I'VE BECOME?

And I mention all that, because I'm curious in an introspective, possibly rhetorical way now - would I have had the patience at this stage to uncover Graveyard and hear their resonance and subtleties?  Or would I have dismissed them now as "heard this before, move on"?  It's a chilling thing to think about that I might have bypassed one of the great bands of their generation based solely on a personal bent toward efficiency.

Two other surprises, not really good or bad, which isn't fun, but there it is.  First, was it me, or was there a lot of Satan-invoking music this year?  Okay, fine, lots of parents and grandparents and are bristling at my naivety and yelling "it was always all invoking Satan, you fool!"  Brushing that aside, you know what I mean - Lucifer led the charge in this category, but I can't escape the feeling that there was a greater preponderance of music openly offering messages (real or theatrical, either way,) of the praise of dark forces.  And I wonder if this is not a coincidence - if the pandemic plays some hand in this, and individuals feel they've lost control of the surroundings and are more willing to accept alternative messaging that might inspire them - Satan is, after all, the O.G. outlaw, who rebelled against no less an authority than God.  There's always been a certain appeal to the idea of taking charge of the reins of your own life, consequences be damned (no pun intended,) and I think musicians may have felt they needed to write that message, and fans are more apt to hear it.  A while back, a gentleman named Eric Nuzum wrote an excellent (and hilarious) analysis of the history of our attraction to vampires called "The Dead Travel Fast."  One of his conclusions was that in times of distress (in his cases, economic, but there's no reason a pandemic wouldn't qualify,) the popularity of vampires goes up and there's a proliferation of vampire-themed material.  He goes on to reason that people find the idea of the vampire attractive - immortal, almost universally depicted with wealth and power, existing outside the constructs of regular society - at times when they may be personally struggling.  Anyway, I'm above my paygrade at this point.

Second minor surprise - while it was clear that a lot of artists spent the pandemic plumbing the depths of their own psyche for new material to write, I think I expected there to be more wacky side projects and collaborations.  Almost everyone released albums or singles in their usual idiom, which is fine, but I figured there might be a tendency to dip into the pool of the weird, and now was as good a time as any to release that pent-up stream-of-consciousness-progressive-death-Ozark-chamber-quartet EP that you've always had in your back pocket and been too afraid to waste time on, right?  Aside from Bjorn Strid, who's like a high school drummer who gets recruited by every band in school, nobody really went notably outside their comfort zone, which is fine, but a minor letdown.

...it does suggest a truth that I've consciously tried to ignore over the years, which is that maybe many songwriters are what they are, and that's it.


CHRIS C: That is very true. As we discussed privately, it's a weird and annoying phenomenon that we (as a society) define ourselves by the work we do. When we meet someone new, the first thing we're usually asked about is a job. Not what we enjoy, not how we see ourselves, not what kind of personality we have. I just wanted to fit that in here so there's a record of me calling it silly. Every bit as silly as athletes defining themselves by a number. We seem to go out of our way to make ourselves less human at every turn.

*Editor's Note* Adele's album was released during this conversation.

Yes, half a million is a lot of vinyl. For all the talk about how big it's become yet again, the fact of the matter is if you can sell a couple thousand units, you're having a lot of success. When bands do their 'limited runs' of a couple hundred, they're making it sound like a rare opportunity, but it's often because they know they're not going to sell more than that. Vinyl is bigger than it used to be, but the raw numbers are still pretty small. Adele will move a lot of them, but as was the case in the days when we started buying cassettes (ugh, I feel old now), it will be mostly for her previous achievements. I am definitely in the minority, but I am not swooning over her new one. I'm not a vinyl collector, but even if I was, it would not be an album I have to pick up. I have a CD of "25", but this one won't be joining it.

I did notice Greta Van Fleet's album, but I also didn't care enough to say much. The hype machine never got the same kind of traction this time. I think it was a combination of everyone being tired of saying, "they sound like Zeppelin", and the singles they released being more prog and less interesting. People's irrational hatred was the only thing making them rise to the top, and without that, their music wasn't good enough to sustain the attention. I said nice things about their first album, but they got dull in a hurry. Not that I'm complaining about that.

Don't be ashamed of yourself. I have been that kind of journalist for a long time. If a band's name is dumber than dumb, the email gets deleted. If the genre description includes the word 'black', the email gets deleted. If I simply get the sense I'm not going to like it, it may get deleted. For any band I haven't heard before, they either have to write promo copy that catches my eye with something that makes me believe I could like their music, or they have one song to impress me. I don't keep track of how many albums I'll listen to one single from, only to ignore the rest. I know I shouldn't, because singles aren't always representative, but when I think about how much music I don't care for I might have to listen to in order to be more charitable, I can't do it.

So I don't know what to tell you about your Graveyard question. Sometimes bands need a second chance to impress, and we don't always give it to them. That happened to me with Graveyard. When you raved about "Hisingen Blues", I gave it a listen and came away a bit cold from it. When you gave me the assignment to write about "Lights Out", they clicked. I would like to think they would have gotten the second chance anyway, but I have no idea. It's uncomfortable to say, but so much of what we end up hearing is based on luck and chance. That's not very artistic of us, but it's reality.

Hmm... our orbits are different enough, I'm not sure I encountered that much Satan this year. Lucifer for sure (a good band and another good album - how much does their name and lyrical content hold them back?), and if you want to include Powerwolf and their imitator Apostolica, that's about the extent of evil I came across. But I did spend more time this year looking for some lighter musical fare, and I've been drawn to that psyche-plumbing, so it's easy to explain why our experiences differ. I'll just make a quick point here that the reason for the lack of side-projects could be as simple as noting how many musicians are already in multiple bands. It's hard to find time for yet more projects when you're already dealing with two or three bands. Bjorn's the odd case where he has put his main band on the back-burner. I get the sense he's far more interested in being a yacht-rocker these days anyway.

I can speak from a bit of experience here; songwriters absolutely are who they are. Rare are the examples who can jump into a completely different sound or genre, and succeed both on the merits of the new music and in comparison to what they're known for. Writing songs is, in a way, muscle memory. We have certain patterns and traits we utilize over and over, making variations on them. Let's use a basketball analogy. If you come into the league as a mid-range specialist, you're always going to be good at that (until your skills completely erode), but that doesn't mean you're going to be a great three-point shooter, or a great distributor, and so on. It takes a lot of work to develop a new skill, and while it can be done, how many musicians do you think put in time to dissect their songwriting and the songwriting of people in the new genre they want to move into? A pitcher usually can't throw an overhand fastball, and then drop down into a side-arm slider. Likewise, a songwriter can't often upend the fundamental ways they build melodies or riffs. If we're lucky, our voice as a writer will be able to fit more than one genre. As we see a lot of the time, however, experimenting with new sounds simply doesn't work. I've learned to stay in my lane, even if I have other things I would be interested in trying.

I've gone on long enough, so I will quickly answer my own question. What surprised me this year were two things. One was that, after joking about it for who knows how long in these conversations, I finally got new Tonic music. It was only one song, sure, but I had given up thinking it was ever going to happen. I was genuinely shocked when I saw the announcement, even as a cynic. The other thing that surprised me was that, for the first time, a musician's death made a real impact on me. Maybe I've just been lucky with who I have been most a fan of, but Jim Steinman's death hit me. His music is what really made me a serious music fan, and I trace some aspects of myself to his melodramatic sarcasm, so it did feel like a star had disappeared from the sky. Oddly, I find that whole situation to be reassuring. I would have been far more concerned if his death hadn't meant what it did to me, even if it would have been more in character.

D.M: Yacht-rocker!  Holy shit, I'm stealing that.  Especially because I can picture Bjorn so easily in that exact mold.  Well done by you.

And I'm not too ashamed of my lack of journalistic integrity in some regards - my policy against listening to bands with a bodily function in the title is well-publicized (apologies to Witch Vomit and Urine Junkies and Vomit Fist and all the others, but no, I'm never taking the time to listen to your records.)  You know, we've talked about this before, but why on earth would you pick a name that automatically prevents commercial success?  Okay, I get it, in a lot of these splinter genres, commercial success is never attainable anyway, so why not go for the gusto, because fans won't care.  Understood.  But as part of my education, even though I didn't want to, I did have to take some marketing classes, and the latent marketing student in me bristles at the idea of cutting off your nose to spite your face.

Alright, you've opened the door by mentioning our different orbits - since I apparently spent most of my year steeped in the dark tea of evil music (including a couple very good, catchy death metal albums, which is a difficult concept to consider - that death metal would be catchy,) where did you spent a lot of your year?  And addendum for myself - I have found that in the past three years or so, I've tended to be less apt for the more extreme dimensions of metal.  I am vainly hoping that this is because it is a fallow period for those genres, and not because I am hurtling inexorably toward forty and my clean-burning, adolescent rage is diminishing as the calendar advances.  Hmm.  Enough about me - what about you?

Yikes, I think part of our correspondence is going to end on a down, and probably nihilistic note.  Let's dive in head first, shall we?

The concept of the death of celebrities, generally people we only think we know, is a finicky one.  For you, Jim Steinman was a formative character in your own musical identity, which is a huge portion of your overall identity as an individual.  That's a tough blow to suffer, no doubt, and I empathize with the abstract but poignant pain that causes.  For me, Layne Staley's death (or more appropriately, the discovery of his death,) even though it was tinged with a certain degree of inevitability, was the first time I came to terms with the mortality of these characters.  In that way, celebrities that we identify with have a certain fictional characteristic to them - they are, in our eyes, who they want us to see them as.  And their passing (timely or untimely,) robs of us of our connection with them, and the possibilities of more stories or art from them in the future.  The most recent of these for me was DMX (as we discussed earlier this year,) and to some degree, I felt the same sense of loss in that as I did when Iron Man died on screen (spoiler.)  And I understand that those are two very different circumstances, since DMX was, after all, a tangible, complicated person of flesh and blood and Iron Man is a two-dimensional construct.  Yet, I had been fans of both since my younger years, and the characters they either were or presented occupied a similar space in my heart.  I don't know that I have a conclusion here except to say that it is a curious parallel.

Okay, before we get too close to a Polanski-style plot, what did you enjoy this year?


CHRIS C: I can't claim credit. The Night Flight Orchestra is a yacht rock band, and that's what Bjorn seems most into these days. I'm only stating the obvious.

I don't know either why you would intentionally limit your audience with a bad name. I understand there are times when the bands are too young to know any better, so they wind up thinking something is funny only to find out they're stuck with it, but there are plenty of bands with people who should have more of a brain. Lucifer, for example. They've been around, so they have to know there are venues and outlets that won't want to promote them or their music. Ghost gets away with it because it's cartoony, but also because their name is entirely inoffensive. It's sort of like when there was that sitcom, "Cougar Town". No matter how good it was or wasn't, it was never going to be a lasting hit, simply because a lot of people were going to refuse to engage with a show such titled. Even if these bands aren't intended to be full-time careers, getting more attention and more sales means they can do more with this hobby they seem to love, which is a good enough reason on its own not to shoot yourself in the foot. Let's be honest here; a part of metal's enduring attitude is not wanting people who aren't cool enough to be in the club to enjoy the music. Success is actually failure to a lot of them, because metal is really a fairly conservative and regressive culture. It makes me wonder how much self-loathing is involved.

I don't think catchy death metal is difficult to consider at all. That's how it should be. The fact that so much of it isn't is why I don't investigate the genre more than the pittance I do. This year, like the last couple, I have been mostly interested in finding music that, even though this sounds hokey, lifts my spirits. I want to hear things that make me feel better when I'm listening to them, or they remind me of revelations that are supposed to be important. For me, that has also meant listening to less metal, and a few more things in the lighter directions, because that's where I feel I'm most likely to be successful. Whether they intend such things or not, I'm drawn right now to music that sounds like a catharsis. It's easy enough to look out at the world and feel anger or depression, but not resolute or hopeful. That's what I want music to do. I'm not saying everything I liked did, or that I was altogether successful in my search, but that's the direction I was trying to go. If writing my own music is a form of therapy, I want the music I'm hearing to be another tool in that effort.

What you're saying about dead celebrities is true. We don't really know them, nor do we have relationships with them. Ok, we do, but they're figments of our own minds we build to fill needs in our psychology. It's almost as if losing an idea is as painful as losing an actual person, and perhaps it is. I know plenty of people who mean far less to me than some ideas do. I've always felt curious about the deep emotional reactions I see every time a celebrity passes, but I'm starting to understand it a bit. I'm realizing my own identity is constructed from only a few parts, whereas other people with more dazzling personalities might be kaleidoscopes built from people as if they were flakes of glitter. They are the entire rainbow, so they feel every loss, whereas I am a laser, and only resonate on the narrow band of wavelengths. Loss is only what we make of it.

What I liked this year was how many familiar faces came through for me. My top ten is mostly comprised of albums from people who have previously made albums I love, and have done so again. Newer artists were harder to come by this year, which may be simply an idiosynchracy, but I think it may also be that the lockdowns last year shifted the label's attention to established artists who were making music. There were fewer slots available for new things, that's my impression. So I was happy to see Iron Maiden rebound with a solid album (even if it is too long), Light The Torch keep their fire burning (even if the first album was a hair better), and Rise Against prove their last album wasn't a fluke. But what I liked the most was having The Wallflowers come back with their first good album in sixteen years, to remind me of something I had been missing, and Soen come through once again as the epitome of what modern metal should be.

What I didn't like was the amount of half-assed, boring music veteran names put out this year. Foo Fighters, Daughtry, Weezer, Steven Wilson, and The Offspring all released albums that didn't feel at all like they wanted to make music, but had to in order to keep the wheels of their business churning. I started to quantify it as insult I was feeling with Green Day last year, and it carried over. I seriously felt like some of these bands are taking advantage of fans who they know won't complain, and that pisses me off. I don't think bands owe fans anything except two things; the truth, and their best effort. That last part is sometimes missing, I have to say, although I hate to say it.

So what did you like and dislike most?

D.M: That squares it - some day, I don't know when, but someday, I'm going to take a sabbatical from work and delve into a complete anthropological analysis of metal fandom.  Because I'm in it.  Like, way in it.  And even from the inside, "Gorillas in the Mist"-style, I don't get it.  I have been at parties where it turns out there is another metal fan, and when I try to engage in conversation, the other person gets all cold and uncommunicative, and you can tell they don't want to get into it, because they don't value any other person's experience or opinion in the genre.  What are we doing?

We talked off-line about this, but it's worth it to bring up now - that Iron Maiden's album was too long. Finally, I think you and I came to some understanding on the difference of the two eras of Iron Maiden and what makes some fans reject this newer era.  It's too damn long.  All of the most recent Iron Maiden albums (even the good ones, like "Book of Souls,") suffer from the same curse as "...And Injustice for All," where it's like the band forgot to edit themselves.  And as weird as this sounds, if Iron Maiden had always been a band that routinely composed all their songs to be seven minute prog epics, that would be more palatable, or at least understandable.  A large part of the consternation on my part with the Bruce 2.0 era is that it seems to take half again as long to accomplish the same feat.  I don't know if this comes about because with the permanent adoption of another guitar player, the band is trying to make sure everyone has their moment or what, but "Senjutsu," like so many before it, feels needlessly bloated.  Listen, maybe it's anathema to say this, but I think if Iron Maiden had always been the Iron Maiden they are now, they would certainly have found their niche, but I don't think they ever rise to the level of all-caps IRON MAIDEN.  Same as if they'd stayed with Paul Di'Anno - right when they hit their apex was the perfect moment for the perfect band, and they used it catapult themselves to permanent super stardom.  Iron Maiden as presently constituted couldn't have done that.

I think what I liked most this year is the genuine indecision I have regarding the shape my ultimate top eleven albums of the year will take, and the number of albums I encountered that make me dig deeper into them, even if I wasn't in love with their sound in the end.  Death From Above 1979, as cumbersome a band name as ever you'll find, put out an album that I had to listen to a handful of times before I felt like I had digested it and was ready to move on.  I probably listened to Omnium Gatherum's album a dozen times before I had a once-and-for-all moment and determined it would not make the cut.  Same with Orden Ogan (someday I'm really going to love something that band does....or at least, I keep telling myself that.  Hope springs eternal.)  Sumo Cyco put out a record that was innovative and unique, even if it didn't quite work most of the time.  Wode and Helstar and Bowser all made me take notice before I crossed them off.  And if it sounds weird to give faint praise to a bunch of records that won't make the cut, understand that for me to have this internal battle over whether I like a record or not is a pleasing dilemma to be faced with - it means I'm being challenged and hearing things I haven't heard before, which at this point, it always my goal.  

And that doesn't even touch on the albums that are actually in consideration for the final rankings.  I have a solid handle on five titles who have already crossed the finish line (and the top two are fairly locked and have been in such a state for some time,) but I have sixteen candidates for the remaining six spots, and I can't tell you how happy that makes me.  I will admit this without naming names, there have been some years in recent memory where I have had four albums to fill six slots, and that's a bad place to be.  In 2021 though, there's a lot of new music that I'm willing to put on my shield and defend.  

To call out some specifics without giving away too much - We Butter The Bread With Butter (man, another mouthful,) attracted my attention, 6:33 once again sounds as their best when they evoke shadows of backward, demented show tunes, The Browning rebounded with a tight, solid effort, and Bokassa orchestrated a masterful fusion of big-chorus punk and sludgy metal sensibilities.  The Hawkins put out a magnificent EP called "Aftermath" that I listened to quite a bit (by the way, can we please stop calling these 'mini-albums?' It's a needless appellation.  It's an EP, let's use the term we already have.)

And then the Fear Factory album.  Which I really wanted to hate, for a hundred different reasons.  But it's so damn good.

I think I'm largely with you in what I didn't like - notable bands who couldn't follow up great efforts with something compelling.  Red Fang is the headliner of this group for me.  I remain a defender of theirs against any and all comers, but they are starting to settle into a cycle of every-other-album-is-a-dud.  A Pale Horse Named Death's new record was sadly blah - not even bad, just not all that interesting, which is almost worse.  The Offspring, as you mentioned, farted loudly and hoped everyone would be okay with it.  Lord of the Lost couldn't follow up "Thornstar" with an album of equal promise (though the tenth anniversary re-release of their second album is rather good.)  Evile didn't impress.  While I'm thinking of it, Alien Weaponry's sophomore album was smoothed down from the raw power of their debut full-length, and for the worse.  Their debut was incredibly rough around the edges, but was so novel in its correct moments that it overcame any shortcomings.  This new effort, in trying to make a less scattershot and ambitious aggressive record, put out a boilerplate modern metal album.

And I would say I was disappointed by Rob Zombie putting more stamps on his music career, but that would require me having had expectations in the first place.  Just remember, kids - there was a time when Rob was the unquestioned king of the heap.

What do you want to see in 2022?


CHRIS C: Metal culture is a weird thing, eh? I don't think we've ever agreed on exactly what being 'metal' actually is, so trying to form any sort of generalized conclusion about it is rather difficult. You have the people who think it's long hair and not bathing, the ones who think it's leather and motorcycles, and the ones who think it means no rules at all. It's almost enough to make me think being 'metal' is a catch-phrase people use to justify whatever aesthetic they already have. Or, perhaps listening to a certain kind of music doesn't actually say anything about us as people, and we're seeking answers to a question that doesn't exist.

I defend the reunion era of Iron Maiden as much as anyone (Have you heard of anyone else who prefers it to the classic era? I might be the only one I know of who does.), but absolutely, all of the albums have been too long. Steve Harris is probably the only person who doesn't feel that way, but I'm not sure he listens to anything other than the music he makes (Hearing Michael Schenker say that is the weirdest admission I've ever heard from a musician), so maybe eighty minutes of music over five or six years doesn't seem so bad to him. Every album has either a song or two that could go, or too many intros/outros/solos that could be pared down. They are an indulgent band, for sure. I sort of get it, though. Guitar players seem to be judged mostly on their solos, so they might find it insulting if they don't all get their chance to play. It hurts the songs, but it's better for the egos.

You know what I'm going to say here. It's totally possible Maiden wouldn't have gotten to the level they're at if they were making these records in the 80s, but I think the inverse is true, and they also wouldn't be setting the world on fire if they were making the 80s records today. That's not unique to them, at all. Every so often I'll investigate some of the 'classic' records of the past, and I'm almost always struck by how few of them hold up as being anywhere close to as good as they are made out to be. Case in point; I was just listening to Springsteen's "Born To Run" for the first time in a few years. Is it good? Sure. Is it one of the best albums ever? Good god, no. Because of the time they were made, and the incubation of reverence, we forgive a lot more flaws from the past than we do the present. So what I'm trying to say is that yes, Maiden's records recently are flawed, but so too are the classics. Whether we want to admit it or not.

It's funny you mentioned Orden Ogan. I've been listening to them since before their first 'label' album, and I think I can tell you with some certainty you're not going to have that 'a-ha' moment. They're very good at what they do, but over time they've stripped away anything that deviates from their formula. They've become the Motorhead of their particular niche. That's fine, but when the only difference from one album to the next is what setting the artwork's character is placed in, you're preaching to the choir, and they're not always paying attention. There's a lot of bands like that, who keep showing promise, who keep tempting us to believe in them, but you never quite feel like they put everything together. Ad Infinitum comes to mind as a band that is well on their way to doing that. Eclipse as well, which is frustrating since their songwriter has put out great albums with his other projects. And we mentioned them earlier, but I would put Lucifer on that list as well. I really like their sound, and I've enjoyed II, III, and IV, but they haven't had that one song or album to really make themselves essential.

Has anyone fallen quite as hard as Rob Zombie? I'll be honest and say I don't think I actually listened to his record in full. A couple albums ago I wrote something about how he had segued from being a musician dabbling in film to a filmmaker dabbling in music, and that thought has never left my mind. The impression I get from him is he doesn't really have interest in making new music, which is why he comes up with these random strings of words for titles. He could just head back on the road and play the hits without any bother, so it might be better off for all of us if he did that. Then again, he's remade "Halloween" and now "The Munsters", so maybe he doesn't have any ideas for anything anymore. For a supposed 'creative' person, he's not doing much to prove it.

What do I want to see in 2022? There's four things I can point to. 1)More new Tonic music. Whether that's another one-off song, or a full record, now that they've 'broken the seal', so to speak, I will be less gracious about future inactivity. I'll also say I'm more than ready for the new Halestorm album, as well as the Avantasia album being worked on, and hopefully new Graveyard as well. 2)A better mood. There were times during this year when my mood slipped, and there wasn't always a new piece of music there to pick me up. While it would be nice to have more records that can do that, I'll settle for not needing it at all. 3)New connections. This sort of goes along with the previous point. My looking backwards this year reminded me how far the music I check out these days is from when I was younger. It might be good for me to find ways to reconnect with the sounds of my youth. Surely, there must be bands out there doing that sort of thing I simply haven't found yet. 4)Something to move me. I don't know what it would be, and I don't know what form it would take, but I desperately want to find a new record that reverberates in my soul. It's been too long since I've felt that kind of connection to a record.

So as we wind things down, what are you looking for in 2022? It doesn't have to be as esoteric as my answer.

D.M: To try and best define metal to my professional colleagues, who too often fall into the predictable trap of using the catch-all term "death metal" to refer to any aggressive music that they are instinctively afraid of, I have admittedly taken to paraphrasing the science fiction author and critic Damon Knight, who said of his own medium: "That the term 'science fiction' is a misnomer, that trying to get two enthusiasts to agree on a definition of it leads only to bloody knuckles; that better labels have been devised...but that we're stuck with this one; and that it will do us no particular harm if we remember that, like 'The Saturday Evening Post', it means what we point to when we say it."  So what is metal culture?  Cheekily, it's something I can point to and say "that's metal."  Which is not an intellectually satisfying answer, but it seems the best one.

Boy, that's a whole different clamshell we probably don't have time for this go around - the idea of a band and timing.  Because nothing can be easy in popular culture, can it?  So not only do you have to be the best band on the planet, but you have to be the best band on the planet at a specific time when people are ready to hear you.  Iron Maiden, in the middle '80s, was that band.  Nirvana was that band in 1991.  Guns 'n' Roses was that band in 1987.  Of course, it doesn't always work in the positive - Limp Bizkit was that band in 1998, and Staind was that band circa 2002.  But damn, that makes it so much harder to capture lighting in the bottle, doesn't it? (And would seem to lend credence to an explanation of David Geffen's success as involving some manner of prescience.)  Any of those bands, slid by as little as five years, might have been at best beaten to the punch, and at worst flown over entirely.  Damn, maybe there's a parallel reality where Firehouse (holy shit, they're on tour right now!  I would have had them pegged as selling used cars in the upper midwest,) won the American Music Award in 1991 and deserved it!

I appreciate that you've taken up the torch of helping me rag on Springsteen as these conversations continue.  All I can add is this - within the last week of this writing, I was making idle chatter with a guy at the gym, and he brought up Tom Petty being the most overrated musician of his era.  To which I answered "Bruce Springsteen."  To which he shook his head and said "yeah, you're right."

Stuff I want to see in 2022?  I suppose the nature of this is that it's speculative, so my list may well be composed of stuff that has no chance of happening, but here goes: I want to see a new Kendrick Lamar album.  I want Denzel Curry to tour outside the state of Florida.  I want Combichrist to release a full album, not just a single.  I WANT POWERWOLF TO TOUR THE UNITED STATES.  I want aggressive metal to show me something I haven't heard in a while, and I want someone besides Destrage to raise their hand and volunteer to do it.  I want John 5's relationship with Big Machine Records to go better than Taylor Swift's.  I want the Mets to make the playoffs, and not lose their soul in the process.  I want to actually use the Rage Against the Machine tickets that I bought two years ago and am still holding on to.  I want people to get vaccinated.  I want to feel confident about leaving the continental United States for vacation.  I want more free time to play guitar, so I can be better than miserably bad at it.  I want Turisas to show proof of life.  I want to see continued evolution of the raging comeback of industrial music, in all its forms.  I want to see some new blood in the College Football Playoff.

I think that's it.  That feels like an ambitious list.

Good luck, all.  Godspeed.