Song Vs Song: Paradise By The Dashboard Light vs I'd Do Anything For Love

Few artists have ever been as overblown as Meat Loaf. From the very start, his music tested the limits of how much melodrama the public was willing to put up with. Jim Steinman poured cheese into his songs as if the tapes were dipped in a fondue pot, stretching every idea to the absolute maximum. Epic lengths, screeching motorcycles, nothing was off-limits if it could wrench a fraction more drama out of a song.

"Bat Out Of Hell" was the first true album of rock'n'roll excess, with the ultimate motorcycle crash song leading things off, and later on the ultimate car sex song. That's what "Paradise By The Dashboard Light" was intended to be, and with it still lodged in the fabric of our culture, it's hard to argue it isn't.

But is it the ultimate Meat Loaf/Jim Steinman duet? That is the question I am going to answer today, because there is another contender to that crown. "I'd Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)" can make a claim to have surpassed its predecessor, being Meat Loaf's biggest hit of his career, and a song that also endures in the public consciousness, with people still asking what 'that' is, nearly thirty years after we first heard Meat make that claim.

"Paradise By The Dashboard Light": No one was prepared for this song in 1977. A multi-part suite detailing the escalating dangers of teenage sex in a car, complete with baseball play-by-play narrating the moment the deal is about to be sealed, Jim Steinman gave Meat Loaf an entire stage show in a scant eight minutes. We veer from 50s style rock and roll as the innocent teenagers have the first impulses of a bad idea, to the aforementioned play-by-play, to a full-on drama as they reach the unsatisfing climax of their courtship. The storytelling is wide, but the scenario very real. Steinman took the feelings of lust and disappointment we feel in young love, and asked himself what it would feel like if Wagner composed an opera about it. Updated for modern times, that's precisely what he did.

"I'd Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)": If "Paradise" was an unexpected hit, nothing could be more unexpected than Meat Loaf having a second act to his career that was, in some ways, even bigger than the first. Clocking in at twelve minutes, Steinman only increased the drama as he got older. Teenage hormones were no longer flowing, but their memories were replaced by the more difficult quest of finding that same level of worship once the newness had rubbed off. Meat's vocals were never more passionate than on the first line (which reportedly took dozens of takes to get right), and the woman he is pledging himself to this time knows exactly what she wants, and that Meat won't be able to give it to her. If "Paradise" was about a girl, "Anything" is about a woman.

These two songs are different takes on the same feeling, structured in a way to show us how love changes as we mature. "Paradise" is the energetic song where we are ready and willing to do anything to experience the throes of passion for the first time. "Anything" is the tired song where we have already given everything in search of a longer-lasting love. In "Paradise", they rip their clothes off because they are so hot, metaphorically and for each other. In "Anything", she wants to be hosed down with holy water in such a state. One is a song about sex, the other love, and it's made clear how different the two are.

So which is the better song? Both are classics for a reason, but I find the answer to this question to be completely not a mystery. "Anything" is the better song, and it's not as close a competition as it might seem.

This comes down to two main factors. The first is structure, and the second is meaning.

The structure of "Paradise" is the biggest downfall. The last third of the song, where Meat promises himself to the girl, only to regret doing so, is perhaps my favorite bit Steinman ever wrote. The line, "I'm praying for the end of time so I can end my time with you" is the entire Steinman oeuvre distilled in a single sentence. It's dramatic, overblown, and ridiculous; and perfect because of it. That scene can exist on its own and be more than enough. On an album that lived in excess, that moment was the most real embodiment of human feeling. The problem is that the first two thirds of the song can't measure up. The opening scenes are a decent sketch, but sockhop rock feels dated in a way nothing else does. But the real mire is the narration, where the drama is flattened by the spoken voice that lacks all the power and emotion Meat and Ellen Foley bring. The same job could have been done more musically, and more effectively.

"Anything" does not have this problem. The song builds and builds, growing more dramatic with each line until we reach the crescendo. Then, after a moment to steady ourselves and not climax too early, we start over and build to the moment Meat and the woman realize they will likely never have what they want. In "Paradise", that realization comes as straight anger and resentment, but here it's a pathos as we realize even wanting it, even trying to do everything we can to make it happen, may not be enough. Love is fickle enough we cannot manifest it simply because we want to.

The heartbreak of the song comes when we realize what 'that' really is. Meat will do anything to feel the kind of love he wants, except to admit this isn't it. I don't think Steinman could have written that emotion in 1977, and I know Meat couldn't have delivered it until his voice had been broken and rebuilt. They put together a song that is a mystery, in part, because we don't want to admit the truth.

From the epic piano introduction, to the fiery guitars swirling in the background, to the way Mrs Loud's voice rumbles at it's most fierce, there is no song like "I'd Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)". Even the song that could very well be its prelude is just that; a first chapter to the real story.

The winner is clear.

Album Review: Big Big Train - Welcome To The Planet

This is unexpected. Big Big Train have been chugging along (you don't need to throw tomatoes - I know that was terrible) for a long time now, but this album comes not long after the sad news that lead singer David Longdon passed away. That overshadows everything else about the album. How are we supposed to sit down and examine the record, when it serves as the last statement of his life, and a step in the now uncertain future of the band. It almost feels inconsequential to banter about whether this song is good and this song isn't, but that's the job, and that's what we're here to do.

Big Big Train's sound has been one of optimistic, happy prog. Their sound is brighter, full of harmonies, and a bit more classicist than we often hear from prog. Really, there isn't that much prog to their sound, if we're being honest. They've never gotten bogged down in trying to prove their worth, in that sense, which is quite refreshing.

Given the circumstances, perhaps it's a big odd to open the album with a song called "Made From Sunshine". This isn't the brightest of times, but we can probably read it as a metaphysical musing on how the universe is made from a finite number of components, and they get recycled time and again to form everything that ever was, or ever will be. Depending on your spirituality, that is a very reassuring thought. As for the song, it's the warm and inviting tone we expect from Big Big Train, with horns dotting the recording, and a lovely guitar solo that beautifully plays off the soft harmonies.

"The Connection Plan" is built off a complicated violin part that sounds as if it could be a theme for a Sherlock Holmes film. Between that, and a syncopated vocal section led by Nick D'Virgilio, it's quite an interesting track that is unique and a bit odd. It's the sort of prog that isn't progressive in the way we think about it today, but is progressive in the old fashioned way of subverting our expectations. It's not only a good song, but it's one that stands out from the pack, which gets harder and harder to do.

Unfortunately, the album starts to bog down toward the middle. There's a short two-minute ballad that doesn't do very much, then an instrumental where I have to admit I tend to zone out. I always hate when bands dip into the world of instrumentals, both because I don't like removing an important element from the compositions (which is rarely compensated for with a strong melody from an instrument), and because it feels insulting to tell the singer to take a hike for an entire song. Any member of a band should only be missing if there's a damn good reason for it. Neither of the two instrumentals here sound like they do, at least not as I hear them.

Those missteps are a shame, because songs like "Made From Sunshine", "The Connection Plan", and "Proper Jack Froster" are so good it hurts to hear the album take the kind of stumble that is hard to recover from. The core songs to the album are fantastic, and if it was presented to us as an EP, I would be saying this is truly glorious, and a proper send-off to their fallen member. But it wasn't, and I'm not. As an album, the flaws are glaring, and distracting. "Welcome To The Planet" is still a good album, but it's not one that leaves me with untarnished warm feelings. Both because of what the album means, and how it's put together, it's a bittersweet success.

Album Review: Dawn Of Solace - Flames Of Perdition

The temperature is barely above twenty degrees, the ground is covered by snow, and I can hear ice crunching under my feet every time I leave the house. Yes, this is the perfect time to be listening to a depressing, doom-laden album. I have complained in the past about bands putting out records at the wrong time of year, but I do it for a good reason. Everything about the circumstances when we listen to a new album matters; the time, the place, our mood. And that includes the weather as well. A sunny pop album will have a harder time making its desired impact in the midst of the winter blues, nor will a depressing album be as effective when we're basking in the summer sunshine. Thankfully, Dawn Of Solace has the right idea with this one.

This brand of doom is not the crushing variety, wherein it feels like depression is hammering away at your skull with a hammer. No, this is a more reflective and melancholy variety of doom, where dark thoughts slowly eat away at the shores of your happiness. Sometimes, you get caught up in the serenity of the sound, not realizing what is happening until too much of yourself is already gone.

Like Katatonia, Dawn Of Solace builds a beautiful atmosphere in which to suffocate us. The guitars sound restrained, lazily lulling us to sleep, while the vocals follow along. Everything is designed to put the best possible spin on a hopeless situation, lining the coffin with the plushest of velvet. The strings in the crescendo of the opening "White Noise" are subtle, but just enough to heighten the emotional state. The doom isn't overwhelming and impossible to shake, but rather a gentle whisper haunting us from the distance.

Now, the construction of these songs around atmosphere instead of riffs means two things. First, it means the album is consistent from beginning to end. Second, it means the album really is more of a singular piece of work than a collection of songs. You hear the ebbs and flows as the music and melodies swell in volume when the time calls, but picking out the details of one song from the next is going to be a bit more difficult, and require a lot more listening than perhaps we would normally be expecting. That is an observation, not necessarily a criticism, by the way.

Because the guitars are centered on chords instead of riffs, and the vocals don't have the most powerful personality, the mood is the prevailing sentiment of the record. When it's done this well, that isn't a bad thing. This sound is engaging and inviting, even if it is asking us to dance in the shadows. This is where we can still feel the silver lining in the black cloud, even if it is frozen to our touch. Compared to what most doom asks of us, the distinction is wide enough to be its own genre.

So if I didn't say much about the details of this record, it's because I think there is something more important to talk about. "Flames Of Perdition" is an album that tries to put us in a certain frame of mind, and at least with the confluence of circumstances when I first listened to it, the goal was achieved. They have absolutely nailed the concept of beautiful doom, giving us a record that's a soothing pat on the back even if things aren't going to be ok. Their comeback album was good, but this is on another level.

Ranking Meat Loaf's Duets

I had this thought in the back of my head for a while, but with the passing of Meat Loaf, it feels like the proper time to dive into this topic.

Throughout his career, a hallmark of Meat Loaf's albums and live shows are his duets. It started right off the bat (pardon the pun), and continued on until the very end. Some might say it became a cliche, but it was part of the ethos, and if Meat and Jim Steinman both initially saw the music as scenes in a theatrical story, it only made sense to bring in other voices. A monologue can only go on so long before it gets boring, so maybe they were on to something by letting us see how Meat's voice played off someone else.

Many of his duets are among his best songs, so today I want to rank my favorites. This is not a comprehensive list of his duets, and I guarantee your opinion will differ from mine, but I want to talk a little bit about some of the music that has meant so much to me over the years.

1. Couldn't Have Said It Better

An unconventional choice, I know. I can't even use the excuse of it being the first one I heard, as I often do to justify some of my odd opinions. This song features my favorite of his duet partners (Patti Russo), and is the most powerful sounding of them all. I'm not sure if Meat ever rocked harder, or if his voice ever blended in better with anyone. This stomping song is one I've listened to countless times, and it never loses its spark.

2. I'd Lie For You (And That's The Truth)

Does this song rip-off Jim Steinman's sound? Absolutely it does, but it's done so well I don't care in the slightest. Featuring Patti again, Meat gets to sing about bringing down the moon with all the drama that would entail. It's a heck of a ride, and kudos go to perhaps the best Steinman son title he never wrote.

3. What About Love?

This song was buried in the back half of "Bat III", and the more notable songs were given to more famous singers, but it's Patti's duet with Meat that once again stole the show. She could stand toe-to-toe with Meat, and she is the one who sounds in control through this song. I love the energy, and the melody, but it's the way these two fit together than makes it so great.

4. I'd Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)

Meat's biggest hit, and one of the biggest (easily solved) mysteries in music, this twelve minute saga gets taken to new heights when Mrs Loud comes in to remind Meat of everything he would need to do for her, and how he will ultimately fail her. As great as the song is, nothing beats the power in her voice as she asks if he can "hose me down with holy water if I get to hot". Damn.

5. It's All Coming Back To Me Now

A lot of people hate this version of the song. I get it, since it is so different than how Steinman envisioned it. But it's such a great song, I think it works in this context too. It didn't need to be a duet, of course, and Marion Raven sounds too young for Meat, but I appreciate the less Gothic take they provided here. The song's beauty is accentuated, rather than it's power.

6. Paradise By The Dashboard Light

The classic. I do love this song, but it's the third act that always has, and always will be the star of the show. I can do without the first section, and the play-by-play, but when Ellen Foley comes in, the song becomes magic. Their back and forth is great, and it leads to maybe the best bit of any song Meat ever sang. "I'm praying for the end of time, so I can end my time with you" is one of my favorite lines ever, and it caps off a heck of a journey.

7. Dead Ringer

I think this is the only song Cher appears on I've ever liked. She certainly has the personality to stand up to Meat, and they go back-and-forth in this jaunty little number. It's lightweight by comparison to the others Steinman wrote, but it captures the pounding of your heart when you see someone across the bar you don't think you can live without... or with.

8. If This Is The Last Kiss (Let's Make It Last All Night)

One more featuring Patti, this song saved the second half of "Welcome To The Neighborhood" from collapsing into a run of bland ballads. With a bit more blues for Patti to lean into, she proved yet again to be the spark that brought out the best in Meat.

9. Bat Attitude

Yes, Meat and Roger Daltry don't sound different enough in this production to make it the best of duets. Yes, it's problematic 80s Meat Loaf. No, I don't love it any less for those things.

10. Like A Rose

Rather than pick the creepy love song Meat sang with his daughter, I'll instead pick this vulgar one he sang with Jack Black. There's a sentence I never should have had to write.... This is no classic, and the lyrics are rather weak, but the chorus of the song has such bounce and power to it, it wins you over. Even when you know it shouldn't.

Remembering Meat Loaf

What does Meat Loaf's music mean to me?

That's the question I find myself asking upon hearing the new of his passing. I have mentioned many times over the years that Meat Loaf is the reason I do what I do. I became a die-hard music fan because of "Bat Out Of Hell II", and those two albums have been with me so long I first got them on cassettes that are now worn out in places. Some of my earliest musical memories are tied around Meat Loaf, and it's obvious to me how much of my taste derives from the music with his name on the front cover.

So why am I asking myself that question? The answer to that is because of who Meat Loaf is. No, I'm not talking about Meat Loaf the person, who was a complicated mess of goofball and right-wing anger. The problem with assessing Meat Loaf's career is that Meat was merely a vessel for songs, and songs are the foundational unit of music that makes up everything. Yes, Meat's voice was at one time legendary, and no one could do what he did. I would never take that away from him. He is absolutely on my list of favorite voices (that list is coming at some point - I'm thinking it through), no doubt about it.

Meat Loaf was the vehicle, but Jim Steinman was the true voice of the music. If you listen to his "Bad For Good" solo album, or anything he wrote for someone else, you can hear the same role being recast with other actors. Meat played the part best, but it was lived and created by Jim Steinman.

There's also the fact that Meat Loaf's discography is like an amusement park shooting gallery, some targets hit so hard they have no paint left, while others look brand new. For every "Bat Out Of Hell", there is a "Blind Before I Stop". For every dramatic masterpiece, there's a song where he's embarrassing himself because he had no sense of quality control.

Meat Loaf is synonymous with Jim Steinman's music to most people, but there are plenty of songs that show he could have continued his success on a critical level (the sales and popularity are a different case) on his own. Diane Warren powered "Welcome To The Neighborhood" with three pitch-perfect clones of the 'Meat Loaf' sound, including his biggest non-Steinman hit. Desmond Child's half of "Bat Out Of Hell III" was the better half, if I'm being honest. And of all people, Nikki Sixx contributed great songs to "Couldn't Have Said It Better", which is Meat's best sleeper album.

Despite all the times I have played the great albums over the years, saying 'I'm a Meat Loaf fan' has always been hard, given how much of his music is damn near unlistenable. "Blind Before I Stop" and "Midnight At The Lost And Found" are awful. "Braver Than We Are" was a travesty, and one of the saddest things I've ever heard. But the point in time where I pretty much gave up on Meat Loaf was when he released "Hang Cool Teddy Bear". There are some positives to be found, but the lasting memory of that album is hearing a sixty year-old man screaming, "I can barely fit my dick in my pants."

Listening to that song was the moment I realized Meat Loaf was a conduit who would do or say anything he thought would get him back into the spotlight. Ok, hearing him also singing "Let's Be In Love" soon after the Britney Spears "If You Seek Amy" controversy (think about it), helped contribute to that.

Meat Loaf's career and legacy are complicated, and I think my feelings right now are much the same. Nothing will ever make me feel more connected to my younger self, or even the core of who I am, than those classic Meat Loaf albums. Meat Loaf's music is essential, but these days I can't listen to it without recognizing where I hear myself is in Steinman's writing. If Meat Loaf is so important to me, it's because he was my introduction to the sound that speaks to me like no other.

Today is a sad day, to be sure, but not sad to the extent Jim Steinman's passing was. It's somehow fitting they are both no longer with us, because they have always been thought of together. I can think of them separately, but that's a bit of a shame. They were always better together, and now they are once again.

Quick Reviews: Kissin' Dynamite, Battle Beast, & Setyoursails

Since January has seen quite the flood of new releases, I figured I would take the opportunity to not only get some thoughts down on more records, but also make things a bit easier on myself. So here are some quick reviews of three albums coming out today.

Kissin' Dynamite - Not The End Of The Road

Here's an example of a band really stepping up. While they have done some good things in the past, this is easily their best and most consistent album yet. Filled with razor-sharp hooks and vocals that share a common tone with Myles Kennedy, this record nails the pop/melodic rock blueprint. It reminds me of H.E.A.T.'s epic "Tearing Down The Walls" album, and it's a better record for that style than anything that was released last year. Eclipse gets a lot of attention as one of the leaders of the melodic rock resurgance, but this record blows their effort from last year out of the water.

I'm not overly fond of the lyrical conceit of "Yoko Ono", wherein she stands in for any woman who ruins everything (because it's always a woman's fault to these people), and everything else is rather generic on that front, but you don't put on a record like this expecting a lot of brain power. This is all about fun and catchy songs, which the band is able to deliver in spades. For a good time, you can't do much better.

Battle Beast - Circus Of Doom

The best thing about a new Battle Beast album is getting to hear Noora's voice again. She is such a presence I want to love whatever she does. I don't, though. Battle Beast has been in a holding pattern, where despite Noora's incredible voice, the albums don't really stick with me. That was made even more apparent when she appeared on the Laurenne/Louhimo album, which I thought was one of the best records of last year. It was more memorable, despite being heavier, and it set a bar Battle Beast struggles to reach.

That's a relative assessment. In more absolute terms, "Circus Of Doom" is a good album that gives us plenty of melodic metal goodness. There are a couple of quirks along the way, but the core is Noora singing melodic metal with a strong pop influence. There's a bit of pop, a bit of 80s cheese, and just enough theatricality to give everything the nod-and-wink that makes it all in good fun. Battle Beast strikes me as a 'levity' band, and for that purpose, this record hits the mark.

Setyoursails - Nightfall

This modern metal band treads the same waters Infected Rain does, but they do it far better already. The formula goes back to the original days of metalcore, with the mix of harsh and clean vocals, but the music is updated for the modern, more tech and djent oriented sound. That gives the record a sound that is very dense, harsh at times, and without much breathing room. They're going for that sort of suffocation, but perhaps I'm getting too old for it.

They have loads of talent, and a strong vocalist in Jules. They're ability to craft a clean hook is what separates themselves from Infected Rain, or even Jinjer's most recent album. "Mirror" is one of the best songs of the year, and if they can find a way to capture that spark for an entire album, they can certainly make something great in the future. This record, though, is still a step behind that standout track. It's certainly a good record, and there's a lot to like about it, but the killer instinct still needs to be honed just a bit more.

Album Review: The Ferrymen - One More River To Cross

I'll start my commentary by saying this; I didn't think there would ever be a third album from The Ferrymen. Between the number of other projects these three are involved in, and the transient nature of these put together 'bands', I figured one or two albums would be enough (without some miraculous crossover appeal) for things to get packed up while everyone searched for a more lucrative vehicle. I was wrong on that front, and album number three comes at a time when much needs to be proven. Magnus Karlsson had an off year in 2021, releasing a metal opera and an album with Anette Olzon, both of which were disappointments compared to what I expect from him. Pairing back up with a singer I'm not fond of, I was afraid of the longest slump in his career.

The first couple of tracks, the singles "One Word" and "The Last Wave", didn't do much to dispel that notion. They hit the usual melodic metal notes, but without much spark or hook to them. Ronnie's voice still has an uncomfortable amount of rasp, which sounds odd singing these sorts of long, drawn-out phrases. It all feels too soft to really grab us the way Magnus' best songs do. The production isn't helping, where in the interest of sounding 'heavy', the guitars are loaded with so much gain they turn into a mush of on-key noise. When Magnus tries to dig into a riff, rather than hearing the percussive force of his playing, it's a fuzzy blanket thrown atop the notes.

The worst moment, though, is in the chorus to "Shut It Out", where the key note to the melody is in the absolute worst place for Ronnie. His voice sounds so shrill and unpleasant it almost doesn't matter what else comes after. That one note says it all; neither Magnus or Ronnie are tailoring these songs to fit what is needed. These songs could just as easily have been for one of Magnus' other projects, and it sounds to me like he didn't bother to see which ones fit Ronnie's voice before allotting them to each album.

That's the bad news. The good news is that like almost all Magnus Karlsson projects, there is still plenty of really good melodic metal to be found here. Songs like "Hunt Me To The End Of The World" build to strong hooks, and Ronnie can deliver them well when they fit his range. Personally, last year's Sunstorm album proved to me he's better suited as a rock singer than a metal one, and the best songs on this record feature him not pushing his voice so hard. When the focus is on melodic, and not metal, The Ferrymen are still good at what they do.

If I'm being honest, though, I have to say this still falls well short of the best Magnus Karlsson albums. This is no Allen/Lande, Allen/Olzon, or Bob Catley record. Those defined this sound for me, and this record is tracing the outline with a pen running low on ink. We get the idea, and it's still worthwhile, but we've heard the same thing done better before.

So I would say The Ferrymen have delivered a fine album to help get the year rolling, but it's not one destined to be remembered come the end.

Album Review: Ashes Of Ares - Emperors And Fools

I shouldn't take any delight in saying such things, but I find it hilarious that Matt Barlow left Iced Earth (one of the times) to be a police officer, while Jon Schaffer is likely to spend a considerable amount of time in jail for brainwashing himself with his ultra-patriotism. It's safe to say opinions have shifted, and everyone who has been kicked out of Iced Earth at one point or another looks a whole lot better for not being able to get along with Mr Sedition. That doesn't make me like their music more than I did or didn't, but they come off better as people.

Matt Barlow hasn't done anything I've found interesting outside of Iced Earth, which includes the first two Angels Of Ares albums. It's traditional heavy metal, which isn't terribly interesting in and of itself, but the execution has left much to be desired. That hasn't changed with this third album.

The first thing I couldn't help but avoid is the actual sound of the record. The mix is odd, with the vocals so far back at times Barlow is barely audible. He is the selling point of the band, and yet for much of "I Am The Night", I can barely tell whether he's singing or not. Maybe that was a nod to reality, as when his voice is more present, it's also clear he isn't in his vintage form. His vocals are more gruff than ever, often sounding strained to the point I wonder if he was in pain when recording some of these songs. His tone never resonated with me the way it did so many other people, but he doesn't even sound like himself anymore.

The guitars don't sound good either. They are a bit muddy, or perhaps it's the entire production that is, so it sounds like we're listening to the music through a foggy haze. Then there's how some of the lead guitar, especially in "Our Last Sunrise", sounds out of tune with the rhythm track. All of this combined means the record sounds rather amateurish, if I'm being honest.

The big selling point for this record is the eleven minute closer, which sees Barlow sharing vocals with his former replacement, Ripper Owens. It's good to see the two of them have no bad blood after perhaps the oddest singer switch in history, when Schaffer replaced Ripper in between the two records of a conceptual pair. Now that they get to make their own epic statement, it's revealed they have nothing to say. So much echo was slapped on Ripper's voice, I couldn't even understand a word he was singing, but the bits I picked from Barlow's performance leads me to think it's a song about getting piss drunk and then acting like a monster. Lovely. I didn't know they were going to sing about the making of this album. I kid...... not really.

This is one of those albums where the commercial aspect of the music business comes to the forefront. This album is being released because Matt Barlow is enough of a name, and has enough fans still, that there's money to be made selling some copies. On an artistic level, this record probably shouldn't be released as it is. The songs aren't very good, the performances are worse, and the production is terrible. If these were the pre-production demos, I would think they need considerable work to be turned into a solid album. As the finished product, I'm shaking my head and wondering how this was considered good enough.

The bottom line is this; "Emperors And Fools" is a strong early contender to wind up one of the worst albums of the year. It fails on every level, and can't even rub its success in Jon Schaffer's face. I won't be cruel and say it's a competition between the two as to who embarrassed themselves more, but the fact that the joke came to mind at all says everything.

Album Review: Elvis Costello - The Boy Named If

If you are a less adventurous fan, and you primarily like the 'classic' Elvis Costello sound (think "This Year's Model", which just got a new and interesting remastering earlier this year), the last forty years have been a tough road. Elvis has returned to a more 'rock' sound roughly once a decade. We had "Blood & Chocolate" in '86, "Brutal Youth" in '94, "When I Was Cruel" in '02, and "Momofuku" in '08. In between, we get all sorts of detours and adventures, but the sound that defines Elvis comes out very rarely, so it's interesting that so far he has managed to find the spark each time he pulls it back out.

Those records are easily my favorites from that time period, yet I know we are tempting fate. This album is the first in thirteen years to be primarily described as a 'rock' record, and I wondered if time and age were finally going to catch up to the music. Being older, being so far removed, and being focused on telling stories of various characters, there's a steep hill to climb.

The songs we get as previews played right into those expectations. "Farewell, OK", "Magnificent Hurt", and "Paint The Red Rose Blue" are all indeed stripped-down songs that play with the guitar and organ sounds of the old days, but they're written from a decidedly newer (which means older) perspective. There is more than a hint of his Americana raconteur period to the song structures, which loop through verses trying to paint a story, largely absent from the pithy commentary and sly word-play of my favorite songs. Elvis is definitely an influence on my own work, but if this album was the one I discovered him through, that never would have been the case.

The title track has echoes both of "When I Was Cruel", and also "Sunday's Best", but there's an entire section of the vocals slathered with so much echo the words blend into the background noise. That would always be annoying, but it's doubly so when considering it's supposed to be telling us just who the 'boy named If' is supposed to be. A similar thing happens at the start of "Penelope Halfpenny", where Elvis' voice is either pitch-shifted to sound more feminine, or he's red-lined the mic so much only half the performance is coming through. He sounds absolutely terrible in those moments, and while I understand it must have been an artistic decision to make some sort of point, it's hard to listen to, and it makes me want to forget the song even exists.

"The Difference" is an interesting song, taking cues from "Watching The Detectives" in how it utilizes a snaking guitar lead, a story about murder, and an instrumental drop-out as the key line is sung. The acoustic guitar, in particular, sounds fantastic as it introduces the drama. That might be the issue here. The old records sounded raw, but they were the best the limited equipment could do at the time. This record, by contrast, is expertly recorded while trying to sound like it isn't. The artificial distortion and effects don't sound as natural, obviously, and they can be laid on a touch thick at times.

I'm not saying this to be cruel, but to illustrate the difference between this record and "Momofuku". That record was recorded quickly, and sounds like it. It's rough around the edges in a charming way, and the energy of being put together in short order is easy to hear (even when Elvis wasn't giving directions to the band that got left in the mix). This record, though, is trying to capture that same spirit, without quite realizing why or how it happened. The songs are there, but the production is caught between what it is and what it wants to be.

"My Most Beautiful Mistake" might be my favorite song on the record, both because of the more melancholy feeling, but also the contour of the way Elvis spits out the lyrics at the beginning of what I suppose we would call the chorus. The fall and rise catches my ear, even if it isn't exactly a classic Elvis melody. In fact, there aren't any of those to be found here. If you're looking for songs with hooks the kind "Accidents Will Happen", "Shabby Doll", or "Chemistry Class" used to have, this record will let you down. The pop side of Elvis got sanded down and excised many years ago, and this is the record where it would have come in most handy. Many of these songs get right up to the edge, but then can't take the final step.

I mentioned the recent remastering of "This Year's Model", and I want to go back to that. Hearing that record in the new context was like hearing it again for the first time, and I think Elvis had the same feeling. This record, sonically, feels like that new version of the classic. The difference is in the songs, which are still drawing as much from his genre explorations as they do from his early days. It would be foolish to think it possible to go back in time, but when the record is being promoted as a return to rock, it comes with a few expectations. This is rock, but it's not the kind of rock Elvis Costello made his name on. The lead-up to the release made us think one thing, and then we hear another.

So what it comes down to is this; "The Boy Named If" has a few great songs on it, but at least right now I can't get over the feeling Elvis is trying too hard to be something he just isn't anymore. This is probably a record that will grow on me as I get the chance to put these feelings aside and figure out exactly where I think it's coming from, but I can't write about the future. I can only tell you what I think right now, and my current opinion is that while this is his best record since "Momofuku", it's not the flash of inspiration that one was. Let's call this exactly what my modest expectations were bracing for.

Album Review: Tony Martin - Thorns

Tony Martin has a reputation for being one of the forgotten talents of metal, and it's for good reason. While I like "Headless Cross" quite a lot, he was Black Sabbath's singer when the band was not cool, and was not at their peak. He was a great voice, but a lot of the material he was singing didn't make much of an impression. In all the years since then, whether solo or in collaborations, the same thing has happened. Martin's voice has remained a powerful instrument, but the songs he winds up singing are rather forgettable. Thus, we learn the lesson that talent alone is not enough to make a name or a legacy. Even the best performers need good songs, and Tony Martin has not written or been given enough of those over the years. Not even close.

So we come to his newest solo album, which promises to be one of his heaviest affairs, and establish a new songwriting partnership the likes of which he hasn't had since Tony Iommi. That's a high bar to set, even if those Sabbath records are not the most beloved. If "Thorns" is as good as "The Eternal Idol", I would consider that a major accomplishment.

The record opens with the first single, "As The World Burns", which was not an encouraging first statement. It's heavy, sure, and Martin still has his voice, but it's the kind of generic metal that thinks attitude is more important than good songwriting. It took hearing the song a couple of times until I could even figure out what the chorus section of the song was. It doesn't have a strong melody, or any kind of a hook at all. The guitars drop out, and Martin cries out about the world burning, but it doesn't build to anything interesting.

"Black Widow Angel" is the same kind of Sabbath-ian metal, with a lumbering main riff that's pretty good, but a melody that once again falls flat. It doesn't help that Martin's lyric in the chorus sings of him being the "black hole son", which whether you want to call it a pun regarding the Soundgarden classic or not, is distracting. Also distracting is the breakdown in place of a solo, where the song almost takes on a dance beat, only to go right back into the quasi-doom without much of a transition to explain why the song took that detour.

"Damned By You" is probably the best track here, sounding similar in vibe to "Cross Of Thorns" from the Sabbath days, but not quite as much of a ballad. The highlight is the lead violin, which adds a lot to the atmosphere of the track. It's a shame it only appears in the intro and the outro, because an album like this with more prominent use of that kind of drama would be incredibly interesting.

Less interesting is "No Shame At All", where Martin sings about a woman having sex in cars in the mall parking lot. Seriously. And this guy is in his 60s. Ugh. We seem to now live in an age without shame, but a little of it goes a long way, such as not putting out a song with a lyric this pathetic.

By the time the album is done, two things are pretty clear; Tony Martin is still an underrated metal singer, and he has the level of acclaim he deserves. Every album he appears on, he manages to put together two or three good songs, but he never has been and never will be the kind of writer who gives himself full records of great songs. What he needs is to team up with Magnus Karlsson, whom he has done the occasional song with, and let him write an album of Sabbath styled tracks. That seems like the only way Tony Martin is ever going to have another album that properly showcases his talent.

If he's left to write it for himself, the odds aren't very good.

Album Review: Magnum - The Monster Roars

Consistency, they name is Magnum. The English stalwarts have been releasing albums with clockwork regularity, getting our January's off to solid starts just about every other year. Sometimes, that's as much as there is to say about a new Magnum record. For as much as I do appreciate the band, and like a solid portion of what they do, none of their recent records have struck me as being vitally important. I love "Princess Alice & The Broken Arrow", and there are always songs on the others that only Magnum can give us, but after two dozen records, asking them to wow and amaze is too much. So long as they give us some solid entertainment, they're doing their job.

I have to admit I was worried about their ability to do so, considering that neither of the advance singles held much appeal for me. "No Steppin' Stones" especially was a let-down, where it seemed the songs was more focused on pointing toward the horn section than a classic melody. The new twist was nice, but without a better song in which to place it, I wasn't coming away very impressed.

The record's opening, if you didn't hear anything prior to release, is much the same. The title track relies on a chorus that has none of the grandeur of Magnum's best work. It feels like an attempt to be more modern, with a heavier rhythmic aspect to Bob Catley's vocals, but that just isn't who Magnum are. Their music is old-fashioned, but that's what we want from them. It's what they're good at, frankly, and this song proves it by showing us the opposite.

The songs that are classic Magnum deliver exactly what we want and expect. "Remember" is a great example of the melodic swell Magnum trades in, and when the chorus of "The Present Not The Past" hits, the cascade of backing vocals is darn near magical. I don't quite understand why they left so much buzzing from the acoustic guitar in the verses, but the payoff is worth the distraction.

The best song on the record is "Your Blood Is Violence", which not only nails the power and pageantry of classic Magnum, it gets in a great line about "your voice [being] a deadly sin". Some might say it plods, while others might say it's schmaltzy. Exactly. That's why it's so great. Magnum has always come with a hint of camp to their appeal, and being a dose of levity in a world of rock that can often take itself way too seriously is one of the reasons Magnum has been able to stick around for fifty years. Staind will not be able to sing about daddy issues when they're approaching their seventies, while Magnum can continue taking the piss out of things for as long as they like.

What can you really say about a Magnum album at this point? It's hard to make an album that garners attention and acclaim when you have twenty more of them people have lived with for so long. Magnum, though, keeps on keepin' on. While there are moments they stumble a bit, this record feels to me like the highs are much higher than the last couple, so the ride is a more interesting one than some of their other recent albums. Do I think this will be one of the best albums of the year? No, I don't. What I do think is that it's a damn fine Magnum album that has enough really good songs to more than justify itself.

Album Vs Album: Springsteen Edition

The Boss. We rag on him every year around here, but it's hard to deny the stature Bruce Springsteen enjoys in the pantheon of American rock music. Few artists are as enduring as Springsteen; for his longevity, for his marathon concerts, and for his both popular and critical acclaim. Whether you like the guy and his music or not, it's hard to have avoided him altogether.

Like just about any legacy artist, there is one album that stands out above all others when we talk about his career; "Born To Run". His breakthrough hit record has spent over forty years as a cultural touchstone, as a soundtrack to the youth and now middle-age of his fans, and as one of the greatest albums of all time, if you listen to the critical consensus. But is it? Let's investigate.

"Born To Run": It's easy to see why this album is held up as the gold standard of Springsteen's vision of America, and why it remains beloved. Opening with "Thunder Road", the piano figure and Springsteen's voice full of 'character', was opening the world up to a new vision of cinematic rock n roll. He painted stories with his lyrics, telling the tales of the struggling middle class trying to get by in a world designed to crush them. In a song without a chorus, Springsteen kept every second as important as the next, even giving fans a mystery over what Mary's dress was doing that kept people engaged for decades. The title track emerged as one of the most enduring classic rock anthems of all time, where lyrics that talked of "suicide machines" and called the characters "tramps" became a rallying cry of optimism for a generation looking to escape the Vietnam/Nixon malaise. Then there is "Jungleland", one of the first mainstream rock epics, which may have single-handedly made the saxophone an integral part of the rock pantheon. Taken as a whole, the album expanded the possibilities of rock n roll, painting with both broad strokes and realistic detail. It was a swing for the fences, and it connected.

"Darkness On The Edge Of Town": Following up the epic statement of hope, Springsteen turned his focus inward, and concentrated on the shadows that crept in from all corners, threatening to choke that optimism. This record kept the bright and lively production choices, but tore into society for all its shortcomings. From the opening of "Badlands", through the closing title track, there are few moments of happiness to be found. Even when he sings of believing in "The Promised Land", it comes in the form of the kind of belief necessary to endure the hardships of life. In the world of this album, the streets are on fire, the town is dark, and the wasteland sits at the city limits. Even Adam is taken to task, for his son being the world's first murderer, and questioning if parenting ruined humanity from the very start.

Putting the albums side-by-side, we get a yin-and-yang. One is the sun shining bright in the sky, while the other is the moon reflecting a silvery and mildewed facsimile of that light. Which is the more important album in rock history is undeniable. Which is the better record is real question, and I don't think it's much of a competition.

"Darkness On The Edge Of Town" is the record that should be Bruce Springsteen's legacy, and the record we should be celebrating. Stacked up song-for-song, it's a stronger, more compelling record in every sense. "Thunder Road" is a beautiful song, but "Badlands" is every bit the cinematic opening song, but with more passion and a more satisfying compositional structure. "Born To Run" is the most classic of anthems, but "The Promised Land" not only has the stronger and more satisfying hook for a communal experience at a concert, but it is a song about resilience and the power of the human spirit, rather than the power of an engine as a weak metaphor. It's a healthier way of dealing with our flaws and faults. "Born To Run" almost comes across childish in this context.

There is more to consider than just that, however. "Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out" is a repetitive rocker, as is "Adam Raised A Cain", but it never seethes with the same kind of venom to show the cyclical form is akin to a repeated stabbing, to overkill. Despite being the brighter album, "Born To Run" is less energetic, and simply less fun. "She's The One" and "Meeting Across The River" are inconsequential filler meant to bridge (pun intended) from one epic tent-pole to the next. They feel that way too. "Prove It All Night", on the other hand, is also a flimsy song intended to bide our time until we get to our destination, but it has some spark, and it doesn't drag along like a songwriter allergic to having a little bit of fun. Even the most morose moments, like "Racing In The Street", are melancholy with a melody, letting the sadness echo in our heads in a way we can't escape. That is far more haunting than any memory I've ever had of "Born To Run".

My verdict is clear, and resolute. "Darkness On The Edge Of Town" is far and away the better record, doing everything "Born To Run" was aiming for, but with more sustained success and excellence. "Born To Run" is remembered more fondly because it had the hit single, and the crowd favorite, but it doesn't have the same depth, either in the track listing or in the themes and lyrics. To use the American pastime as our final metaphor, "Born To Run" is a singles hitter that gets on base in front of the big bats, while "Darkness On The Edge Of Town" is the clean-up hitter bringing everyone home.

Winner: "Darkness On The Edge Of Town"

Album Review: Infected Rain - Ecdysis

I hate to put bands into competition with each other, but sometimes there isn't a better narrative to explain what it is I'm trying to say. In this case, Infected Rain and Jinjer occupy very similar places in my mind. Both are modern bands of the most aggressive nature, that just so happen to introduce just enough of a melodic break to bring their music back toward the mainstream to a degree that broadens their horizons. In the previous album cycle, while the world was focused on Jinjer, I thought Infected Rain was doing the same thing in a better way. Jinjer stepped things up on "Wallflowers", so now the question is whether Infected Rain is keeping pace to rightfully say they are underrated.

That's an easy claim to make just one song into the record, as "Postmortem Pt 1" throws everything at the wall. The buildup is electronic, the verses to the song are a harsh groove, and the chorus opens up into a smooth and melodic counterbalance. Lena's voice does it all, shifting from a harsh scream that retains clarity, to a beautiful clean vocal that absolutely nails the melody. One of the common shortcomings of bands trying to do this comes from not having a voice that can powerfully hit both sides, but Lena has no such problem. She is only getting better.

Infected Rain's issue is not an imbalance between their abilities on either side of the spectrum, but in how they balance those two areas. When they follow in the framework of half harsh, half clean, they do some compelling work. When they take on a song like "Fighter", where the clean vocals are only a whisper in the bridge, the songs can drag a bit. Something like that is missing the push and pull, the ebb and flow dynamics that make the songs that much more engaging.

Unfortunately, Infected Rain falls into the same trap many bands of their ilk do, where they either can't consistently write great hooks, or they water them down in order to retain their metal credibility. They give us just enough to tempt us into thinking they could be the next band to cross over and appeal to everyone, and then they close the curtain and focus on their harsh side to the detriment of the music. It almost feels like they have bought into the line of thought I have heard expressed too often than 'heavy' is a synonym for 'good'.

With these dozen songs pushing the record toward the hour mark, the need for more dynamics and hooks is made clear. The aggression works in small doses, but gets old well before I make it through the entire running time. I keep waiting for something my ear can catch onto, something to say the screaming in my face was to prepare me for 'this', but those moments are few and far between. Instead, the record feels like a lot of set-up without much payoff. It's delayed gratification than never seems to come.

When the album is over, I'm left disappointed. I have heard promise in Infected Rain before, but I didn't get as much of it from this record. Their sound is developing, but not in the way I would hope it would. All that matters is if they are happy with the music they are making, but as all I can do is recount my own reaction to it, I have to say they are moving further away from me with this record. Which is ironic, considering that Jinjer took a step closer with their last album.

The more things change, eh?

Album Review: Wilderun - Epigone

When Opeth made their big shift, it was sort of the end of an era for more than just them. The bands that copied their approach were suddenly old-fashioned, and the influence was even more obvious than before. There was a gap out there that needed to be filled, and I'm not quite sure anyone managed to do just that. In all my recent writings, I have talked about Soen being what Opeth could have been if they ditched the death, but stayed metal. That did the job for me, but it's still only one facet of Opeth's equation. Wilderun are making their own attempt at continuing what would have been the natural evolution of Opeth, which makes their success so important. There is obviously a need, and a desire, but can they pull it off?

With this album, Wilderun is also making a shift towards a softer, more progressive rock direction, but there are two differences that make their evolution work; 1) It doesn't sound so infuriatingly old, and 2) They leave enough of their metallic past in the mix to leave us a trail of breadcrumbs showing how we got here.

"Exhaler" opens the record as an acoustic guitar and a crooning voice, a four minute meditation of beautiful sounds that try to entice you into the record. That maybe didn't need to be followed up by a similarly soft opening to "Woolgatherer", but the delay before we get to the metallic guitars makes them even more satisfying to hear. Combined with the string accompaniment, the mix of instruments makes for a lush and lovely sound. The band has taken melodic death metal and symphonic prog, and mixed them in a way that maximizes their power. Over the course of fourteen minutes, the song ebbs and flows through melody, folk, and hints of growling. The focus is clearly on the softer moments, but the roar of guitars is used just enough to make the space between the notes echo louder.

"Passenger" is where the band gets back to truly being metal, segueing into a mix of death metal and clean vocals that feels like a call-and-response between the past of their influence and the future of their destiny. It's here we can most clearly hear the thread of their identity being unspooled. Death metal is such a minor component to the ten minutes of the song, but that fury isn't missing when absent. The sound the band manages still holds that essence, even if they pull back from extremity more often.

Now, for all that good I've been talking about, there are some things we need to talk about as well. Like Opeth before them, some of the transitions between sections of these songs can be a bit rough. When one suddenly stops, for the next to pick up in a completely unrelated way a second later, it feels like a lack of care being put into the songwriting. We need more connective tissue to tie things together, rather than have some of these lengthy tracks feel like mosaics. Also, while the band creates some beautiful instrumental backdrops, and the vocals are very nice as well, the melodies themselves need more punch. For as much as the sound of the album is glorious, I don't find much of the record immediately memorable.

I know, this is progressive music, so that isn't always the key thing. But actually it is, because without that appeal to make me want to listen to the record again and again, the more adventurous and sophisticated elements go for naught. I won't quite say Wilderun is completely guilty of this, but this is a record I find myself appreciating more as a sonic painting than as an album. It sounds amazing, and I can get swept up in some of the swells, but it also comes across a bit flat. I need a riff I can sink my fingers into on a fretboard, or a melody the voice in my head will sing back to me over and over. That's what's missing.

That means "Epigone" is one of those albums I'm glad to hear, but still don't hear quite enough from. Wilderun is doing some great things here, and their evolution of the prog and death metal combination is exactly what we need, but there's still an element of hookiness needed to elevate this from very good into greatness. "Epigone" is wonderful for what it is, but I just want a little bit more.