People Still "Make Believe" It Was Weezer's Lowest Moment

The Weezer fandom is one of the weirdest I have ever come across. They are dedicated to the band, despite being disappointed, angered, and outraged over nearly everything they have done over the last twenty-five years. The band makes gigantic mistakes, puts out records people are humiliated to listen to, and yet Weezer fans can't seem to quit the band. For whatever reason, no matter how much people feel let down, they continue to stand by their band.

The biggest flashpoint came with "Make Believe". After people were disappointed by "The Green Album", but ultimately came around to realize how great it was at achieving the intended goal (even if people hated that goal), "Make Believe" is the record where people never seem to have left behind the initial hate.

I, of course, am one of the few defenders of that record, even as I find myself wanting to distance myself from Weezer as a whole. The band has veered in and and out of 'dead to me' territory, and yet that has nothing to do with their most reviled album. So why do people hate it so much?

The answer to that is pretty simple; "Beverly Hills". Despite being a huge hit, I think we can all admit it's a pretty terrible song. Rivers lyrics are an abysmal ode to how great it is to be rich, the song is so simple it can be played with one finger on the fretboard, and his almost rapping cadence takes the wink-and-nod joke of "Buddy Holly" to ludicrous proportions. It's a song that should be a ridiculous parody of culture, showing how shallow and empty it all is.... except Rivers was being completely genuine. To open an album with an ode to wanting maids scrubbing your floors is exactly the sort of thing that makes Rivers so easy to hate. That the song is also absurdly repetitive and vapid only makes matters worse.

The album's other single, "We Are All On Drugs", didn't help matters. It's supposed to be a metaphor about our addictive personalities with regard to our phones, technology, and other assorted indulgences. That doesn't really come through when Rivers is screaming "we are all on drugs!" The other lyrics about Mercedes Benz's didn't help, once again shining too bright a spotlight on Rivers' nerdiness, and his complete failure to use slang without sounding like the biggest poser in the world.

"Freak Me Out" might be the most laughed about song, as it was written about being scared of a spider. It's a laughable subject for a song to be about, and fans made no efforts to hide their contempt. I think "Hold Me" suffered a similar fate, sounding so desperate and clingy that it bordered on pathetic.

But let's be honest here; Rivers has always been a terrible lyricist. People thought him using the word "homies" made him clever, and that name-dropping Kerouac made him smart, but they were little details hiding in a sea of teenage poetry. By the time "The Green Album" came out, and you tried to decipher just what the heck "Hash Pipe" was about, it was clear Rivers was putting almost no effort into his writing.

It's funny that "Make Believe" is a more honest record than either "The Blue Album" or "The Green Album", because that means it is closest in spirit to "Pinkerton". It seems no one liked that Rivers was meditating, and trying to be a more present person, because "Make Believe" did what people had been wanting from him. We were seeing more of Rivers' true self once again. And this time, when he wasn't as miserable as the people listening to the records, they felt abandoned.

But with all of that negativity, I still find myself defending "Make Believe" more than most people. When you start from the position that Rivers is a terrible lyricist, and you know going in that he's going to annoy you the whole time with terrible lines, you can focus on his knack for writing catchy songs. That's what he delivers pretty well throughout the record. "Beverly Hills" is insufferable, but it's also sticky like a driveway on a hundred degree summer day.

"Pardon Me" has all the chord changes that made "Falling For You" an old favorite, he sings "Peace" with more passion than just about anything he ever did outside of his misanthropic years, and "Perfect Situation" is such a perfect song that it can survive even without a chorus. Even the spider-centric "Freak Me Out" is a mellow song whose melody would be absolutely beautiful if you weren't laughing at everything Rivers was singing. And then there's the closing "Haunt You Every Day", which is a more powerful version of "Only In Dreams", showing a side of Rivers other than the frustrating wannabe rock star.

Sure, "Make Believe" is a deeply flawed record. I would never say it wasn't, but let's also look at what followed. "The Red Album" was spiraling out of control, "Raditude" still can't be explained, and "Hurley" felt like a joke even before it was released. Maybe "Make Believe" is looked at as the start of Weezer's darkest days, but if I'm drawing the line, it sits on the right side of it. "Make Believe" has far more in common with the band's first three albums than what would come after.

Perhaps "Make Believe" was a poor ending to Weezer's best chapter, but the sound is unmistakable. If you listen to the record in that context, and you can ignore Rivers as much as possible, I don't think there's much difference between this record and the far more accepted "Maladroit". They're sort of sister records, and I don't think either one is the evil twin.

No one loves "Make Believe", and I'm not going to say I do either, but it's far from the train-wreck people make it out to be. Weezer's entire career is sort of playing Russian Roulette with the gun pointed down. Sometimes the gun goes off, and they shoot themselves in the foot. I don't think this was a direct hit.

My Top Twenty Albums Ever (2022 Version)

Every few years, it's interesting to sit down and see how taste changes as we age. While we tend to hold consistency up as a sign of moral clarity, it's foolish to rely on an answer simply because it has always been the answer. Facts change, and so do opinions. There is nothing to feel shame about in acknowledging that who we are now is not who we once were, and the music we favor now isn't always going to be the same music that fueled our youth. Trying to adhere to some old perception of who we were for no other reason than to avoid charges of having changed our minds is a dangerous form of self-delusion.

We might be the same people we were, but we are not the same. As such, it's only natural that we look back on a lifetime of music from different angles, depending on where we are in life. The light coming through the prism shines a different color from each vantage point, and so too do records sound different from each stage of life.

As I sit down to this task yet again, my thinking has moved in the direction of my actual listening. I don't want to put records on the list because they have always been there, or because I have some esoteric assessment of why they are great. I want to reflect what are 'the classics' of my life, but I also want to give proper due to the albums I find myself still listening to regularity. The albums I can't get enough of, despite having heard them so many times, should be the ones rising up the ranks.

That was the aim, and that was the reasoning behind the biggest decision I've ever made in assembling these lists. But we'll get to that in a bit.

-ish. Kelly Clarkson - Breakaway

Apparently, this is my favorite pop record. It's also why I try to never discount the means an artist might undertake to generate a name for themselves. She may have started on a reality show, but this album showcased her as an unbelievable voice, who at least for that moment in time had exquisite taste in picking the right songs to sing. I think this is also why I hate pop today.

-ish. Alyson Avenue - Presence Of Mind

European AOR isn't a genre I'm all that fond of, as a lot of it can be too soft an fluffy. But with saturated guitars and Anette Olzon's cutting voice, this album is a melodic gem. It's just pop enough, just rock enough, and jam packed with unforgettable songs.

-ish. Bruce Dickinson - The Chemical Wedding

Iron Maiden are legends, but I have always preferred Bruce's solo trilogy to anything they have done. This album is the crowning achievement, a monumental slab of crushing metal with soaring melodies, and a poetic undercurrent that puts it on an intellectual level we don't often hear from this kind of music. It's drama at its finest.

-ish. Dan Swano - Moontower

The greatest death metal album ever, and quite frankly, probably the only one I ever need to listen to again. With it's approach often described as 'Rush meets death metal', it turns the conventions of the genre on its head, and throws in the best melodies ever growled. Swano's performance puts nearly every harsh vocalist in history to shame, and he soured me on all those who can't rise to his level.

-ish. The Jayhawks - Hollywood Town Hall

The Jayhawks, for a brief period, were the perfect combination of folk and fuzz. They shouldn't have worked the way they did, but the blend of Gary Louris and Mark Olsen, both as singers and guitar players, found the gaps where black and white can sit side-by-side without blending into grey. It's Americana at its absolute best.

Those are the records that just missed the cut, for various reasons. Several of them have been on previous iterations, and the only factor relegating them to this stature is my having not listened to them as often as those that will come later. They are fantastic records, but circumstances of mood have led to them being less present in my listening habits. My opinion of them hasn't changed any, and I could easily make a case for any of them over some that rank above them. This is all based on momentary feelings, after all.

20. Dave Matthews Band - The Lillywhite Sessions

My first pick is controversial, since it isn't an actual album. Still, I'm going with it, because writing about it for the twentieth anniversary last year reminded me of how important this collection of songs has been. I have been listening to this more in the last few months than I had in years, and it still kills me.

19. Halestorm - Vicious

The newest entry on the list is an interesting case. Do I think it's their best album? I'm not sure if I do, but it's the one I find myself putting on more than the rest. The songs that get to me are just too good, and there are moments when Lzzy's voice tears right through me.

18. Graveyard - Hisingen Blues

I often say I don't understand the blues, which is true, but listening to this album is one of the few times I think I could.

17. Elvis Costello - King Of America

Somber and simple, I love how this record is able to feel honest, even if it isn't, simply by stripping away the facade of the character. I still find great inspiration in the craft.

16. Edguy - Tinnitus Sanctus

Of all the power metal in all the gin joints.... wait, that's not right. What is right is that this black sheep continues to be the power metal with the strongest legs, the one album I keep going back to. It's fun without being silly (most of the time), and it feels like it actually matters, which not a lot of power metal can do.

15. Killswitch Engage - The End Of Heartache

This album defines an entire genre, and even though I never went much deeper, it also defines a period of time in my life. I vividly remember the first times I heard this record, how I was struggling to understand it, and how it eventually made all the sense in the world. I've long thought the 2009 album was better, but I find myself gravitating back toward this one lately.

14. Meat Loaf - Bat Out Of Hell

One of the first albums I ever owned on cassette (ugh), I always thought it was crucial, but flawed. What I discovered over the last year, with the deaths of Jim Steinman and Meat Loaf, is those supposed flaws have mellowed with time, and now the album is to me the classic it has always been to everyone else. It still gets trumped by its sequel (spoiler alert), but the gap is closing.

13. Fall Out Boy - From Under The Cork Tree

Maybe I just love puns? I never had an emo phase, per se, but I've had more of a relationship with it lately than I did when it was at its peak. There are other albums that fit that mold, and give me the same feeling, but none of them do it with quite the power and panache of this one. They sing, "you're a classic, like a little black dress." How true.

12. Green Day - Warning

My prime example of an addictive album. I got through waves where I won't listen to this for a long time, and then I will put it on half a dozen times in a week. There is something to Green Day's take on classic power-pop (that's what it is - let's be honest) that feels as vital as a cup of coffee in the morning. The blood may not be pumping, but it's flowing, which is more my speed.

11. Black Sabbath - Heaven & Hell

You'll notice I'm not, at my heart, really that much of a metal person. This album is, almost always, my pick for the best metal album ever made. Ronnie James Dio is incredible, but there was something about the combination of his persona with Tony Iommi's riffs that was magical. I can pretend I'm a headbanger.

10. Matchbox 20 - Yourself Or Someone Like You

As I've mentioned before, I can remember the exact scene when I knew I needed to get this album. Twenty-five years later, things came full circle, and that connection was too strong for me to ever think "Mad Season" is the more important album to me. They were never cool, but neither was I, and I still feel the same as I did when I first was listening to this one.

9. Graham Colton Band - Drive

Thanks to the old days of mislabeled files, I found myself listening to Graham Colton. He wrote one of my favorite songs ever (which doesn't seem to exist anymore), but it's the one and only album he made with his band before trying to be a pop star that echoes on through time. If a facsimile can still be a masterpiece, this would be the proof.

8. Dilana - InsideOut

As if I needed to say more than "Falling Apart" is my favorite song of all time, this album is a rollercoaster of sounds and emotions, which culminates in the memory of finding purpose. I wouldn't say this is when I found religion, but if anything has ever made me spiritual, it would be her.

7. Graveyard - Lights Out

An album I have routinely called a 'time machine', this one lets me feel what it must have been like for those classic rock fans who can't shut up about how everything has sucked since 1979. It's a simple album that strips the music down to the basics so we can be amazed at how much can be built from so little. It's one of the most amazing feats of rock and roll I've heard.

6. Tonic - Head On Straight

I've always loved this record, but it wasn't until I started to pay attention to my listening that I realized just how often I still reach for this one. Other than "Irish", I could listen to this record practically every day without ever growing tired of it. At times, I have.

5. Dilana - Beautiful Monster

I've already said everything I can say about this record, at least until its anniversary comes up and I need to find new words. So far, I haven't done any better than saying Dilana's voice resonates at the same frequency as my soul, and it's never been a stronger phenomenon than here.

4. Tonic - Lemon Parade

Maybe I stuck to my guns too long with this one, and I simply didn't want to admit it could no longer balance on the sharp tip that is the apex. What I realized recently is that for as much as I love this record, I don't have the same gut-level response to it I do with many others. Often, I want to feel something, and that's not what Tonic is necessarily for. Tonic is for when I want to remember why I became a musician myself.

3. Meat Loaf - Bat Out Of Hell II

When I talk about getting 'swept up' in music, this album is the one that best embodies that feeling. It always has. I can put it on, and whether I'm transported back to being a kid or I'm looking back as an adult, something about Jim Steinman's songs transports me somewhere else. It's sort of funny how someone so obsessed with Peter Pan was able to write an album that sort of stops time when I listen to it.

2. The Wallflowers - (Breach)

The more time that passes, the more I find myself understanding what I want out of music. This record, more and more, checks all the boxes. It defines an entire side of my personality, and no matter how many times I listen to some of the poetry in these songs, they still sparks new images in my mind.

1. Jimmy Eat World - Futures

My answer to this question had been the same for over twenty years, but when I look at myself now, this is the album that I see hanging around as my aura. There have been countless cold and rainy days where my mind was wandering into the darker recesses, and the only album that felt right to listen to was this one. Nothing else hits the spot the same way as the perfect blend of sugar masking bitter undertones. That sums me up, in some ways, so perhaps this was an inevitable conclusion.

Singles Roundup: Nordic Union, Ozzy, Taylor Swift, & Ascendia

Let's dip into the pool of new singles once again.

Nordic Union – In Every Waking Hour

I was excited to hear a new Nordic Union album was on the way. Of the projects Erik Marensson is involved in, this is the one that has satisfied me the most. His sugary writing being paired with Ronnie Atkinson's gravelly voice is perfect in a way Eclipse can't be, and they come out of the gates with another winner. They straddle the line between rock and metal, as does Ronnie's voice. That's true both of the music and the vocals, and it explains why this works so well. What could be a fluffy little AOR song sounds so much more powerful, and it's that power drilling it into our heads. They haven't failed yet.

Ozzy – Patient Number Nine

I know, I know, I shouldn't even be talking about this. I hate Ozzy as much as ever, and there's no way I'm going to say he sounds anything more than alive as a vocalist here, but I am rather surprised to find the song itself isn't so bad. No, it doesn't really sound that heavy, and it isn't befitting the 'Price Of Darkness', but it's far better than the material he was putting out in the Zakk Wylde era. If anyone else was singing it, I might just recommend this one.

Taylor Swift – Carolina

Oh Taylor, all good things come to an end. "Folklore" is absolute genius. "Evermore" was still really good. Continuing on that path for this new song has gone further than ever into the sparse folk sound, and what got removed was all of the interesting Taylor-ish melodies. The sound is the same, but there's so little to the composition here, I was zoning out even before the first chorus hit, which was not nearly strong enough to bring me back. The winning streak is over already, as Taylor can no longer make indie sound interesting.

Ascendia - This War

It's been quite a while since Ascendia put out their one and only album, which was one of the best albums that somewhat fell under the prog-metal umbrella of that time. With amazing songs and strong baritone vocals, they were something unique. That record is still fantastic, so having them finally return should be a welcome development. Well.... this song doesn't sound anything like that Ascendia. Gone is the melodic approach in favor of something more modern and hard-hitting. Even the vocals don't sound the same, almost as if they're being sung an octave higher. I don't get this at all. Everything I loved about them is gone, and this replacement sounds almost generic. What a shame.

Album Vs Album: Pinkerton vs Futures

Being an album that defines a generation is a burden, as well as a gift. While it ensures the album will live on in the public consciousness as time goes on, it slows or outright stops the process of re-contextualizing the album for the next group of fans to explore the music. What spoke to one generation is not guaranteed to have the same effect on the next, but sitting atop a golden pedestal puts those records out of reach, beyond the scope of criticism. While a negative attitude toward an album is nearly always viewed as being needlessly contrarian, taking that negative turn against an album of such importance can almost feel like heresy.

For people coming of age in the mid to late 90s, especially those who were outsiders or otherwise 'weird', Weezer was a revelation. Their emergence on the scene was the beginning of 'nerd culture' becoming a part of the mainstream, with "Buddy Holly" capturing the awkwardness of being unpopular, uncool, and unable to use modern slang in a way that didn't elicit laughter. Hearing Weezer was a signal to those people they weren't alone, they weren't as weird as they thought themselves to be, and they didn't have to hide who they were.

But we aren't here to talk about Weezer's "Blue Album". That record was the first statement, but Weezer's true importance to that generation came with their next record, which for many people opened the door to the music we now call 'emo'. It was the first time many heard such detailed expressions of pain and frustration, the first time many heard themselves reflected in the music they were listening to.

"Pinkerton": As far back as I can remember, this album has been the cherished north star of nerd culture. Both a commercial and critical failure, "Pinkerton" nevertheless hit people in their souls, speaking to them in a way no hit record ever could. Rivers Cuomo was in crisis as he wrote the songs that would make up the album. He was suddenly famous, his plan for a sci-fi concept album was not coming together, and he had enrolled in Harvard while going through painful physical rehabilitation. It was a recipe for bitter and angry music, as his existential crises stripped away whatever filter had (or should have) been put between his mind and his pen.

What so many love about "Pinkerton" is how it sounds like Rivers' journal being put to music. The lyrics tell of the frustrations of being rejected, dotted with detailed observations of his life as he went through out-of-body experiences. The stream-of-consciousness lyrics of "El Scorcho", where Rivers describes watching underground wrestling on television, are treated as a fit of artistic genius. They are not, but the level of detail isn't the real issue at hand.

Rivers Cuomo has always been a master at one thing; writing hooky songs that figure out the earworm formula. "Pinkerton" is no different than his "Blue Album" in that regard. The sound may be dirty and dingy, but the melodies on "Across The Sea", "Pink Triangle", and "Falling For You" are classics for a reason. Rivers the musician was in full flight during this period, not yet jaded enough by success to have given up trying. There's an obvious reason why "Pinkerton" spoke to so many people.

Unfortunately, how it spoke is the problem. Rivers the musician was on top of his game, but Rivers the lyricist was not. Beyond his chronicling of the mundane, "Pinkerton" is a catalog of toxic attitudes, all directed at the women in (and not in) his life. Rivers reduces women to a list of sexual conquests, uses domestic violence as a metaphor, lusts over a barely legal girl, blames his mother, pleads for a lesbian to sleep with him anyway, and conjures a rape fantasy. I have explored all of this in more depth here, but the legacy of "Pinkerton" is not complete without understanding how so many people who would now be labeled as 'incels' have grown up listening to Rivers casually and thoughtlessly tossing out so much misogyny.

"Futures": Coming out nearly a decade later, when Weezer's influence in promoting emo culture had already come and gone, Jimmy Eat World was speaking to a new generation of outcasts. "Bleed American" was a "Blue Album" for that next group of fans, crossing over to the mainstream to introduce emo to people who were going to need it. That record would become entwined with 9/11 as the title was stripped away in the wake of that day, and while the parallels are far from exact, the band's newfound stature, combined with the trauma of that event, were not altogether foreign from the mindset that gave rise to "Pinkerton".

Both albums deal with youth, and the confusion between love and lust when the concepts haven't solidified to a point we can understand. The difference is in attitude. Rivers felt sorry for himself on "Pinkerton", blaming everyone other than himself for his predicament. "Futures", on the other hand, has no blame to be cast. Jim Adkins realizes in his lyrics that bad situations sometimes happen no matter what we intend, and holding on to whatever good we can find in the moment is sometimes the best we can do.

The songs on "Futures" are heavier than anything on "Pinkerton", both emotionally and sonically. The production of the record is immaculate, the guitars thundering, and Adkins' voice soaring with the clarity to reveal every ounce of pain he's putting into the performance. The heavy songs are powerful, bristling with angsty energy and propulsive hooks, while the softer songs swell with emotion, feeling as soft as the velvet lining for our emotional caskets. Adkins songs admit the drugs and women involved aren't the long-term answer to happiness, but they get him through this day to the next, so they are as important as the love he hopes to find one day.

When he implores at the end of the record, "don't take away the ending, the one thing that stays mine", it is both the optimistic turn telling us we can still control our story, and ultimately the most depressing thought we can have. The only thing we control is tomorrow, because we can never escape the past.

Reaching a verdict here is easy. "Pinkerton" was a vitally important record to me, as it was for so many others, but the years have not been kind to it. It's difficult to look back with any degree of fondness on a record that introduced so many toxic thoughts to impressionable listeners who weren't ready or able to wall themselves off from the messages. "Pinkerton" should be disqualified on that basis alone, but I don't need to do that. "Futures" is a record that grows deeper and more nuanced the more it's listened to. It's a healthier way of processing the issues involved in coming of age, without the biter aftertaste that doesn't let us forget what progress has been made. But this isn't just about lyrics. "Futures" is more compelling as a musical experience. It has more power, more shade and color, and just as much that will etch itself into your memory. Jimmy Eat World essentially took a flawed album, and made a better version of it in every way. Like "Pinkerton", "Futures" is often underrated and underappreciated, but the true fans know what a monumental record it is.

The Winner: "Futures", in each and every way.

Album Review: Oceans Of Slumber - Starlight And Ash

It's always interesting when a band leaves metal behind. Questions will arise as to why they did it, and whether the original or new sound is the band's 'true' identity, but I think it's important to remember that we are not static creatures. We live, and through that experience we change. Asking anyone to stay exactly as they were for the entirety of their lives is stupid. Sure, you have bands like Motorhead who do that, but we can also ask if that was just a cynical business ploy to give the fans what they wanted over and over again.

Oceans Of Slumber are leaving behind the vestiges of doom metal that percolated through their first two albums, now tagging themselves as 'New Southern Gothic'. There are still a few hints of the dark heaviness of doom, but the music is now more acoustic, more centered on bluesy folk, and more akin to a Southern take on where Opeth has been in recent years. I can hear similarities in some of the guitar arpeggios, but Oceans Of Slumber, despite their name, are far more lively in bringing this sound to life.

The key to that is, of course, Cammie Beverly's voice. She has a vocal power Opeth never has, and she injects her performances with more colors and shades. Her tone sits between your typical rock singer and a deep blues bellow, which makes her a perfect fit for this record. Where Opeth can sound sleepy doing this, Oceans Of Slumber are patiently biding their time to explode.

"Starlight And Ash" is a powerful album, but in a different way than you might expect. There are moments, like the chorus of "Hearts Of Stone", that are heavy, but they are heavy because of the dynamic swell they provide from the quiet verses. Like a horror movie using a jump-scare, the band plays with dynamics to let the songs ebb and flow, twisting and building into something far more interesting than if they were plodding big doom chords all the way throughout.

The metal fans won't like to hear this, but by leaving much of that behind, Oceans Of Slumber has a wider array of sounds and emotions they can play with. Metal can be rather limiting, and the volume of it can make it hard for songs to express or evoke much of an emotional response. The feeling I get from this record is that Oceans Of Slumber wanted that connection, both to the music and to the audience, and this was the best way for them to achieve that. It would have been easy to make another heavier record, to continue their upward trajectory, but they went down the less traveled road instead.

That being said, every change comes with growing pains, and there are a few here. For one thing, even though the songs largely stay in the 4-5 minute range, the pacing of them can sometimes make them feel even longer than that. The slow burns are effective, but when every song is doing that, the record feels like it could use a bit more energy dotted in to keep things moving along. The other thing is the cover of "House Of The Rising Sun" near the end of the record. That song is such a cliche of Southern music, and it's been done hundreds of times already, it doesn't add anything here the rest of the record hasn't already done. It doesn't surprise in any way.

What that means is that Oceans Of Slumber have changed course, and they're definitely headed in the right direction. This new sound fits them wonderfully, and they show the potential for the devastating emotional crescendos they will be capable of. What they need is a bit of time to fully grow into this identity, and to learn how to best exploit it. All the pieces are hear, and it makes for quite an interesting listen, but there is a bit more honing of the songs that needs to be done before the band reaches their final form. I believe they can do it, and when they do, it will be glorious.

This is the first step to that end.

Singles Roundup: Emerson Hart, Allen/Olzon, Avantasia, & Megadeth

Let's see if you can spot the theme for this week's collection of new singles.

Emerson Hart – I Look For You

Across Emerson's solo work, a trend has been developing. With each release, his songs have been getting more subdued and more subtle. As he has further differentiated between his solo work and Tonic, it has gotten a bit more difficult to embrace them both. This song is an example of that, as it sounds like a classic Emerson Hart song, until you stop and realize the chorus of the song is the quiet part, the bridge is the only bit with some energy, and the song's biggest hook is the instrumental bit. It isn't a song that hooks you in at all, proving to be maybe a bit too subtle, at least as the first single promoting a new EP is concerned. I still enjoy it, but it doesn't have the power "To Be Loved" had last year.

Allen/Olzon – Army Of Dreamers

Following an album that came in at #2 on my list (though it should have been #3 in retrospect) isn't easy, and this song proves it. It's classic Magnus Karlsson songwriting, and both Russell and Anette sound great, but does it measure up to their first album? Honestly, no, and that's mainly because the mix fails on what was the best thing about this project. This song is one of the duets, but Anette's voice is put so much higher than Russell's in the chorus that we're missing the blend that was so magical. Just righting that little wrong would make this so much better.

Avantasia – The Moonflower Society

I wasn't all that fond of the first single Avantasia released, and I'm not sure how fond I am of this one either. It's certainly better, as it leans less heavily on the power metal cliches, but there's an overpowering feeling of familiarity that is bothering me. There are at least three bits in the song that feel more than reminiscent of past songs Tobi has written. It almost feels like an intentional reel of some favorite old moments, but I know that's not what was going on. It may be a sign of a creative malasise (which we all go through), and that's very worrying.

Megadeth – We'll Be Back

I've never been much of a Megadeth fan, and this song reminds me of why. Fans will absolutely love it, but not me. He thrashes through guitar riffs, and snarls his trademark vocals (for whatever they're worth), but it's not much of a song. The chorus of the song is incredibly flat, and rather boring, followed up by the song stopping entirely for a second before it jets off in another direction. Even if I liked the pieces, it feels like lazy songwriting to not have some sort of transition there. But that's sort of what Megadeth always was. It's always been a band about guitar playing, where Dave lucked his way into a couple of good melodies over the decades. Now that he doesn't have those anymore, the band has almost no appeal to me.

EP Review: Yours Truly - Is This What I Look Like?

Yours Truly was already on my radar with their first two EPs. I don't remember how I came across "Too Late For Apoogies", but it quickly became one of the few EPs to make a real impression on me. I loved their sound, and Mikaila's strident voice, and by the time they released "Afterglow", I was already saying they were one of the new bands to watch. They had the potential to become one of the shining stars in our musical sky, a southern cross guiding our way.

"Self Care" was what I had been waiting for, a full-length album that showcased more facets of the band's sound. It was everything I could have hoped for, updating the sound of pop-punk with more emotion and introspection. It was my clear-cut Album Of The Year, and it elevated Yours Truly exactly the way I envisioned. But what's interesting is how they are choosing to follow up on that success, which comes in the form of this new EP. The band is getting a bit more experimental with these songs, and they're giving us only a bite-sized taste of their next chapter. Is that enough?

I'm not sure how to answer that question, because I can make the case for both 'yes' and 'no'. Let's take those one at a time.

The answer is 'no', because EPs rarely feel like complete musical statements to me. Even with seven songs, the experience is over fast enough that I keep thinking there is more of this current mindset that needs to be said. The band explores this new sound, but I'm not sure if they have dug deep enough to fully get to the bottom of it. These songs take on a different aura, turning down some of the harder rock influences in favor of a more modern and rhythmic approach. The hooks don't rise as high, the riffs don't hit as hard. The songs are a bit more subtle, preferring to ingratiate rather than burst through the door.

Because of that, I need to hear more. With a few more songs, I would better understand the how and why of the shift in tone, and perhaps the result would alter my reaction to the music. Something similar happened with Halestorm, where I didn't fully understand the shift they made with "Into The Wild Life" until I heard "Vicious" three years later. It took me two albums to fully embrace that change, and I'm thinking the same is true here, and I'm not going to completely buy-in to what Yours Truly are doing until I hear what comes next.

The answer is 'yes', because I'm not sure if I want a full album of this new style. I still like what Yours Truly are doing, and they are doing it well, but I don't connect with it the same way I did the songs on "Self Care". With the change in guitar style, I miss the power of the heavy chords. The backdrop isn't as powerful, which undercuts some of Mikaila's singing. She can't go all out the same way, which hinders the emotional resonance of her voice. They write songs about issues, and getting past them, and these songs don't have the same outpouring of her soul (in audible form) I heard before.

So this EP leaves in an uncomfortable place, where I definitely like what they are doing, but I can't say it isn't a disappointment when compared to what they had been doing before. The band started high, and rose even higher, but this EP feels like a step back down. Perhaps that is necessary, and the next great chapter simply can't be reached in a straight line from where they were, but this detour isn't quite the road I want to go down.

This is a case where good is overshadowed by great. What a thing to complain about, huh?

"Cigarettes & Gasoline" & Time

When you're young and you have a limited collection of music to listen to (a reality people will never know again - thanks, streaming), every record becomes absolutely vital. I can't begin to count how many times I listened to those first albums I got, and that does bring in questions of whether I loved them because I love them, or if I loved them because they were all I knew. In the end, it doesn't matter how things came to be, because knowing the past doesn't change it. Even if time machines existed, the past would remain the past, or else the very conditions that led to the time machine's existence would not have happened. I'm getting a bit too deep here, aren't I?

By the time I was expanding my horizons, there was one truth about music I had settled on; Tonic was my favorite band. It wasn't a linear development, but by the time they took a break after "Head On Straight", there was no other band who meant more to me. They are responsible for me being a musician, and for what the last twenty years have meant to that entire facet of my identity. I learned the ropes of writing songs from Emerson Hart, so when Tonic was put on the back-burner for a solo career, I was not heartbroken. Writers are often more important than the particular path they are taking, and if a schism was going to happen, it would be for other reasons.

This chapter was introduced with the single, "If You're Gonna Leave", which is the one song from his solo career Emerson says he could have been a Tonic song. He is right about it fitting with the band, but I would disagree with him about it being alone in that category. Even on just this record, there are several others that could have fit the same bill. Perhaps our perception is driven in part by his desire to separate himself from the band's identity at that time, and my desire to keep them tied together.

The other aspect to that differing view is that, at the time, I was not attuned to what we now would call a 'songwriter's album'. Those collections of songs that were meant to showcase the range and variety of an artists' tastes and abilities were an integral part of the 70s that Emerson was influenced by, but were not a part of the music scene I was privy to. Not knowing any better, I perhaps heard something different than what was intended. There are times when not being astute and knowledgeable has its advantages, and that may have been one of them.

When I got the album, those two most Tonic sounding songs were the ones that captured my attention. "If You're Gonna Leave" and "I Wish The Best For You" were the most familiar songs, and were obvious choices to be the songs used to bring listeners in. Emerson has always been a simple songwriter, but without the layers of guitars Tonic used to build soundscapes, it was made more apparent. Let's get one thing out of the way right now; when I say Emerson's songwriting is simple, that is in no way a criticism. Simple songs are actually the hardest to write, because they don't have superfluous elements to distract us if the core composition isn't strong enough. When you have a song that is little more than a strummed chord pattern and a melody, it has to be great on its own. Those are the songs that separate a great songwriter from one who uses the studio to make themselves sound like one.

Having heard Emerson playing those songs with just an acoustic guitar and his voice, there's no doubt how good they are. But those are the easy songs to explain, because they are essentially Tonic songs, if the band was being played on 70s AM radio. What was more interesting was hearing the songs like "Devastation Hands" and "Flying", which were fully immersed in a much older sound than I was used to. Emerson's voice anchored them to what I already knew, and the elements of classic rock that dominated "Lemon Parade" had already served as a harbinger of where things could end up. Without knowing it, the move on this record had always been hinted at.

"I Know" is one of the most interesting songs, mixing the record's most guitar-focused sound with a composition rooted in power-pop. It was a new wrinkle, but it felt familiar at the same time. So too did the skittering rhythm of "Friend To A Stranger" and the programmed percussion of the title track, which closed the record with the biggest diversions from the artist we knew. Their placement at the end of the record stood out as perhaps an arrow pointing to what the future would be, but that turned out not to be the case. They were curious songs, experiments that could not have been attempted if group consensus was required.

Despite being simple, "Cigarettes & Gasoline" is a daring album, because it left behind the pretenses of a rock band for something far intimate and personal. This is the first time we really felt like we knew who Emerson was as a person. Both the lyrics about his family, and the variety of sounds he used to tell them, revealed more than he could with Bob Rock cranking the amps as he did on "Head On Straight".

My lasting memories of the record are three-fold. First, there are those songs that have played in my mind countless times over the last fifteen years, sounding as much a part of me as a part of Emerson. Second, my horizons were opened up by the nature of the record, and what it told me was out there I had not yet experienced. Third, no matter how many times I have listened to "Vanity" over the years, I still hear a blank instant where I swear the keyboard is making a mistake and trying to correct itself before the take gets cut off by the producer. It's the sort of little moment you would think would ruin the song, but instead it makes it impossible to forget.

A few years later Tonic would reconvene, and they would put out another album I love just as much. But if you ask me which album is more special, and which album means more to me, it would be "Cigarettes & Gasoline". By wading into new waters, it stands apart as something unique, and it's things that are unique we learn the most from. Fifteen years later, I'm still figuring that out.

The Rock Culture... Of Decay

Has the rock and metal world always been secretly regressive?

I know we think of it as being music for outsiders, music that promoted individuality and embracing ones weirdness, but that's not really what it ever was. There has always been a much darker vein running through rock history, and it's only on occasion that it shines in the light where it becomes too obvious to ignore.

I'm asking this, because my recent experiences talking to other fans has made me doubt how many people associated with the music, both in the industry and as fans, care about anyone or anything beyond themselves.

This stems from my assessment of the first half of the year, and my once again mentioning how much Serious Black pissed me off with their song, "Out Of The Ashes". That track, on an album called 'deeply personal' by the band, sees the lyrics calling a woman a 'fucking whore' who is nothing to look at without her makeup, all because she chose to step out and leave the guy who comes across as feeling entitled to her devotion because he spent money on her.

If that's the way he treats her when he's angry, is it any wonder why she would leave?

Some other fans were not only unbothered by the language, they cheered how it pissed off 'the woke'. Further inquiry led down a path of political discussion, wherein it became clear that the attitudes cheered in the song, and espoused by the fans of it, are those of domination and humiliation.

The key takeaway was that anyone offended by this song should just shut up and live with it. So what if it espouses a hateful attitude toward women, wherein the songwriter feels entitled to slut-shame her because she didn't want to be with him anymore? So what if anyone who knows the members of the band could figure out who the song was about, and possibly harass her to her face? So what if the song is yet another example of toxic and hateful speech hanging in our culture, affecting us in subconscious ways we can't understand?

As long as the man giving off strong incel vibes feels better, everyone else is unimportant.

I raised the question at the time the song came out as a single, as to exactly how everyone through the band, production, label, and PR, all had no qualms whatsoever with this language. Now that the record has been out for months, and both critics and fans have not raised a single issue with it that I have seen, I'm left asking a different question; what the hell is wrong with us?

There's a direct line we can draw between this language and concrete action. When such misogynistic language is widely accepted, it's no wonder society has turned regressive and tried to curtail women's rights. When ridiculing 'the woke' engenders cum-stained high fives, it's no wonder LGBTQ people are being targeted in almost every sense.

Serious Black are nobodies, and their song isn't going to have any impact. Practically no one is going to hear it, so I'm not worried about damage being done. But it's indicative of the larger issue, and how we are not doing enough to be accepting of everyone, of treating everyone with respect, of demanding better of ourselves.

But this isn't a unique story, or even a new one. To this day, one of the most prominent radio personalities in the rock world still brings Ted Nugent on his show, and laughs with him as though he's everyone's 'funny uncle', despite him having written a song about raping a child.

The so-called 'glory days' were never that. While white men were being lifted up and brought out of the shadows by the power of rock, Nugent and Jimmy Page were allegedly having relationships with underage girls. They were viewed as idols regardless, and even now are legends, despite being what we would today call sex offenders. That isn't even to mention groupie culture, where rock stars were celebrated for treating women as a commodity, but the women were never afforded that same respect if they assembled quite the roster of conquests. The 80s were no better, when Motley Crue and many of the other hair bands spent the entire decade treating women as nothing but sex objects, even though so many of them were stealing hair and makeup looks from those very women. In the 90s, Courtney Love got blamed for Kurt Cobain's decisions, just like how Yoko Ono got blamed for breaking up The Beatles.

It's clear these strains of thought have always been present, but at least we can say they weren't fighting against a more tolerant culture at the time. As we have evolved, and hopefully become better, much of the music world hasn't. What were once whispers have become screams, what was once rumor has become a proud fact.

And here I sit, disheartened by how few people in the scene give a damn about anyone but themselves, by how many can laugh at how casually demeaning language gets thrown around, by how open and downright proud some of these people are of their toxicity.

A while back, I lamented that it was getting to be impossible to be both a music fan and a good person. As I watch the continued acceptance of this garbage, I have not been dissuaded of my initial point. I don't know if I want to call myself a fan, if these are the sorts of people it lumps me in with.

Album Review: Blind Channel - Lifestyles Of The Sick & Dangerous

Linguistics are fun, but sometimes you walk into things with the wrong expectation because of them. In a race to be original, words are put together that either shouldn't be, or don't belong. So while I give Blind Channel credit for labeling their music as 'violent pop', I know even before listening to their album that I'm not really going to get that. There isn't any way for music to really be violent, and what they mean is that they are intending to blend pop hooks with a heavier, dirty rock sound. That sounds like it should be an appealing blend, but when it turns out to not be 'violent', I'm going to have to say the band's bluster is a notable failure.

"Opinions" opens the album with a rap cadence and a not-quite trap beat, which doesn't blend all that smoothly into the heavier rock chorus. That part of the song is nice, but the way the title is sung initially caught my ear as repeating the word 'penis' instead. Laughing at a song that isn't trying to be funny isn't the best of starts, but that's where I was.

"Dark Side" has the same blend of hip-hop and alternative metal, but this time with a verse featuring vocals that emulate a barking dog. It's another cringe-worthy moment that makes me laugh, and it certainly doesn't sound the least bit 'violent' to my ears. I suppose cartoons can be violent, but this is more an anvil falling on Wile E Coyote's head than it is a realistic looking bit of blood and gore.

"Don't Fix Me" ups the energy, which is a welcome change of pace, but then the rapid-fire lyrics make reference to Miley Cyrus, and I wonder why they want to tie their music down to a certain moment in time like that. One of my favorite prog epics did the same thing by including a lyric about Britney Spears, and despite her ability to stay in the public eye, the song sounds like a relic because of it. Blind Channel's album threatens the same thing before we even get to the halfway point.

By then, the album's pattern is clear. Personally, I get absolutely nothing out of the rhythms of the verses, so there isn't enough in these songs to appeal to me. Sometimes a hook can be so good I'll overlook parts of a song I would otherwise have a problem with, but these songs don't reach those heights. The choruses are pretty good, but they aren't at a level where they can elevate a song. If this was more standard rock music, they would make for a perfectly fine album. But being constructed the way these songs are, I can't give very high marks.

Blind Channel falls into that category of bands who sell us something they can't deliver. When I read the description of what they were trying to do, I was intrigued. When I listened to what it actually entailed, I was not entertained. Set expectations low, and you can always clear the bar. Blind Channel didn't heed that advice, and because of it, this album is a chore to listen to.

Heading "Straight On Till Morning" For Twenty-Five Years

The first CD I ever owned was "Four". I remember walking into the now defunct store in the local plaza, looking through the racks of CDs on the shelf, and finding that electric green cover imprisoned in the hard plastic shell albums were kept in back then. My neighbor had played the album so many times when we would work up the nerve to do a backflip on his large trampoline, with "Way To Fall" being about as apropos a song as could be for that purpose. It was already tied to good times, and even if I wouldn't understand the record until much later, those years were filled with countless replays, especially of "Hook".

When it was finally time for the follow-up, the first hints came in the form of "Carolina Blues", which was not at all what a casual listener such as myself was expecting. There was almost no blues to be found on "Four", despite the band's name, which led me to feel a bit betrayed when the cyclical lyrics of the song tried to show me the roots of the band's sound. It was an odd choice for a single, which makes complete sense to me now, and it set up the band's conflict between trying to be themselves and trying to generate another hit to sustain their success.

"Most Precarious" was that attempt, which many people see as pandering to the charts by attempting to re-write "Run Around". The song would never become a hit, which would be a theme moving forward, but it did serve as the tying thread between the two albums I could use to find my way into this bigger, more varied world.

Success often allows for indulgence, and that's what this record was all about. They explored the blues, going furthest with the closing "Make My Way", a dirty and bitter song that seriously tested the patience of those who wanted to hear more 'three minute ditties' from the band. To this day, it joins "Mountain Cry" in their catalog as songs I have never connected with on any level. I wanted the hooks, if you pardon the pun, and the quirkiness that made Blues Traveler stand out from the others.

That would reveal itself in short order. "Felicia" spit out rapid-fire lyrics over a bouncing groove I still can't quite label. No one besides John Popper would write a line about his 'coy facade of vast indifference'. That was perfectly in line with the way he talked in "Hook" about if he were to 'sing with inflection'. They are both lines that require you to pay attention, to know a bit more about language than much of the monosyllabic lyricism that filled the short and snappy melodies of the pop charts. What would you expect from someone who wrote "Sweet Pain" referencing Cyrano De Bergerac?

"Psycho Joe" would be an eye-opener, not just because it told the story of a criminal being executed, but for being the first time I ever heard the term 'shiv-shank'. What did you learn from the music you were listening to at the age of thirteen? I learned those terms, I learned I could not keep pace with Popper's lightning quick lyrics in the second verse of "Business As Usual", and I learned albums can be quite messy affairs.

While "Four" held together with attitude and production, "Straight On Til Morning" was a universe expanding in every direction, an album in the same sense a lifetime of photographs from different places and times are when put on the same sheets of paper. Loving one song meant nothing about the next, and figuring out whether you loved the album required a slide-rule for the math. "Four" was an easy album to form an opinion on, whether you wanted the context behind it or not. This time, though, was an entirely different beast.

To this day, I'm still not sure if I know how I feel about the album. There are times when I think it's the best thing Blues Traveler ever made, and there are other times when I grow beyond frustrated with the few tracks I hear veering too far from the center. Maybe getting this record at the age I did, and having years to absorb what I was hearing, gave me perspective on the ways music could surprise, challenge, and disappoint. This album did all three of those things, and still does.

It's funny for me to look back at this record now, and to note how much a seriously flawed album is still a part of me. There are so many albums today I listen to that I would easily say are better as a whole, yet they don't make the same kind of impact on me. Many of them slough away with the slightest breath blowing on them, and yet many of these songs are indelible. This isn't "Peter Pan", and I'm not saying this lost boy will never grow up, but some feelings never age. Maybe that's the lesson I'm supposed to take from all this.

Album Review: Rxptrs - "Living Without Death's Permission"

It’s been a while since the British metal scene produced a band that felt poised to make real marks on the worldwide metal scene.  The One Hundred certainly had a moment, but then that all fell apart.  Evile and Orange Goblin have both been standard bearers in their turn, but both are coming up on two decades of service (and more.)  So it is with some excitement that Bristol natives Rxptrs come on the scene with their album “Living Without Death’s Permission.”

Much like so many recent metal luminaries, Rxptrs succeeds as a product of genre bending, and a comfortable sense of when the music needs to reach outside the margins to create the proper aural image.  It’s a skill that comes with no small amount of bravery, as fans of the respective genres often balk at a crossover and being something less ‘pure.’

Which is, of course, bullshit.  But there it is.  To illustrate the kind of blending we’re talking about, consider the song “The Death Rattle,” which calls to mind just a little big of the swing of fellow Commonwealth members The Living End, who in turn were inspired by The Stray Cats.  The same song also is reminiscent of a little-known Annihilator track called “Speed,” which in its turn sounded like a cast-off Van Halen track.  So already, we’ve tied Rxptrs, consciously or unconsciously, to four different bands from four different splinter groups.  And that’s before we bring up the song’s multi-tracked, gang-chorused outro.

In more contemporary terms, Rxptrs lives at the intersection, however improbable, or BRKN Love, Dead Poet Society, and Beartooth, employing in equal measure the rock sensibility of the first, the hardcore emotion of the second, and the big riffs and metal songcraft of the third.  There’s also a passing vocal resemblance to one-and-done New Jersey punk band I.D.K, (not to be confused with the rap artist of the same name,) but that’s hardly a contemporary reference (though their album “Til Death Do Us Part” is available on Spotify, somewhat to my genuine shock.)

Before we get into the laudable parts of “Living Without Death’s Permission,” there will be detractors who will decry the clean vocals and emotional appeal of the choruses that seed throughout the album, but that, much like the rejection of genre definition mentioned above, is simply where metal is right now.  And it honestly should have been expected simply by looking at the calendar – we are coming into a generation of musicians who could have come of age while listening to “The Black Parade” and similar records, so we should expect no less from the artists who were thus inspired.  The choices for metal ‘purists’ (there’s that term again,) are to either embrace the creativity and direction of the artists, or live in a bunker huddled up close to their favorite music of old.

Anyway.

There is little question that “Living Without Death’s Permission” is a front-loaded album.  “Burning Pages” screams from the starting gate with a machine-gun lyric and a crusher of a breakdown.  The acceleration continues through the single “Rock Bottom is a Stepping Stone,” which is an honest headbanger just as a function of displaying a powerful downbeat.

“Dead Awake “Pretty as the Drugs We Take,)” is where the comparison to BRKN Love feels most apt, as listeners of both artists will be reminded of the Canadian band’s “Toxic Twin.”  The song diverge as Rxptrs launch into a hardcore breakdown that serves as just another example of the genre switching which propels their album.

Within the first minute of “Demons in My Headphones,” there’s a section leading into the first chorus that’s a pull from metal, with staccato lyrics and a muted riff that chugs with adrenaline.  The only regret of that one ten-second portion is that it only happens once on the song, and really, on the record.  That brief snippet of songwriting is something Rxptrs should isolate and explore, because it just plain works.

After the aforementioned “The Death Rattle,” there’s three more songs, “Cold Ground,” “The Frail” (which is a popular single,) and “Let Me Die How I Want,” which we mention in a group only because this is where some of the originality of the album starts to fade.  There’s nothing wrong with these songs per se, but they fall into more established tropes of hardcore power ballads, so this trinity at the end is take-them-or-leave-them depending on personal taste.

Let’s not lose focus, though.  “Living Without Death’s Permission” throws seven haymakers right off the start of the album, and on a ten-song record, that’s a hell of a percentage of punches landed.  Whether Rxptrs represents the start of a new British wave of metal is too early to be determined, but they are an enjoyable bellwether for where their respective genres sit in conjunction to one another, and where that combination is going.

The Spider Accomplice Dare Us To Be "Rebels And Riders"

The great benefit to any activity that drowns the senses is that it takes your mind off the scattershot life has fired in your direction. Being able to shut off your thinking for a few moments is a wondrous thing, not just just because it lets a breath go by without having to think about why we're bothering with the process, but because it gives us the strength to fight once we switch ourselves back on. Being a rebel and being a rider are two sides of the same coin, the yin and yang of caring too much about the fate of our lives.

With it being a few days now past the end of Pride, and with every right imaginable now sitting below Damocles' sword (which I can only imagine is what we would see if certain Supreme Court justices were to lift their robes to show off their 'stuff'), being a rebel is an act of survival. The machine is firmly in control, and it is squeezing the essence from us, until all that's left is the colorless pulp they can refine into 'good Christian soldiers'. But I digress.

Rebellion doesn't have to be violent, nor does it have to have a particular political message. Sometimes, raising your fist and simply telling people you're going to continue to live your truth is all the rebellion that's necessary. Right now, standing up for yourself, no matter what form of weirdness you inhabit, is as much an act of rebellion as anything. The Spider Accomplice are reminding us of that with "Rebels And Riders", the first single from their upcoming album, "The Venomous Montage".

The band is rebelling by putting out an album in a time of shortening attention spans. It's a risk to put so much time, energy, and money into a full-length project, but the band is damning the torpedoes and going full speed ahead with their biggest and boldest musical statement yet. In a time when it's easy to let ourselves get dragged down by the day-to-day hopelessness (which happens to me faily often), they come roaring out of the gates with a summer anthem of glorious fun. If you took Lady Gaga's "The Edge Of Glory", and ran it through an alt-rock sieve, this song is what you would end up with. I have never driven a convertible, and I don't have the hair for it either at this point, but this song is what you would want to be playing as you soak up a few of life's pleasures... while you still can.

Arno's guitars are a wall of sound, with a polished glow that blends crushing heaviness with shimmering Edge-esque arpeggios in the verses, while chimes give a definite Springsteen vibe to the song. It's as if we took the 80s view of America, brought it into the future, and couched it in pounding drums and candy-coated melodies so it can cross over and break through the cultural divide.

The band has been flirting with this all along, but "Rebels And Riders" is fully embracing the hints of pop melody that have always been caught in the corners of their web. The blues might connect more on an emotional level, but for making a grand statement, nothing works better than a big, hooky pop song. There's a reason why, no matter how much I hate "Born In The U.S.A.", it's an enduring classic of the genre. Circumstances dictate nothing is going to be able to approach that level of cultural absorption, but the feeling created by "Rebels And Riders" is the same. Broadway, here the Spiders come?

VK sings to us that, "in the space that divides, compassion languishes and dies". That is the problem, now isn't it? We have vast differences in culture between groups of people, and the veneer of civility we used to wear has been stripped off for 'Casual (Hate) Friday'. We no longer have to pretend to care about people who are not like us, or even accept that seeing them on the street is a fact of life. We live in silos, only knowing what we already want to know, firing the missiles at anything that offends us.

What "Rebels And Riders" reminds us is that we don't have to succumb to our worst tendencies, and we don't have to accept that every man (and woman) is an island unto themselves. No matter how alone we feel, there are other people who share our values, share our perspective, share our belief that we would all be better off if we could band together and remember how important mutual respect is.

To wrap all of that up in a three minute pop song that has the effortless joy of summer is just a bonus. I don't know what else "The Venomous  Montage" has in store for us, but if this song is any indication, that spider's silk is going to be reeling a lot of us in.

There is still time to contribute to the Indiegogo campaign to bring "The Venomous Montage" to life. Find out more, and contribute, here!

Album Review: Dampf - "The Arrival"

 

It’s a little embarrassing that this is as good as it is.

Not because of anything to do with the talent of musical acumen of Martin Erikson better known by his stage name E-Type (and who has taken on the moniker A-Tron here,) who has had a successful career in his chosen genre, but just because it doesn’t feel right that a man who has never spent much time composing heavy music can roll in and achieve something many artists never approach.  And just to add context, to read the press surrounding the album, it was composed practically on a dare.

There will be those who will dismiss Dampf outright, because of E-Type’s admission that he wanted to explore the possibility of combining pop melodies with dark music.  As soon as the word ‘pop’ enters the conversations, close-minded purists will shut their ears and turn their backs.  Markedly to their detriment in this case.

Several years ago, we had occasion to speak with Spider from Powerman 5000, who addressed this very issue – we’re paraphrasing, but the upshot of the conversation that was Spider had been summarily accused of forsaking much of his supposed roots in an attempt to write metal pop songs.  To which he confessed that he was, and that it was in fact damn hard to do so.  The challenge of trying to write melodies that will appeal to a broad base, particularly in more aggressive styles, is not one to be taken lightly.

We told you that story to tell you this one: Erikson, and by extension Dampf, has succeeded in this unlikeliest of attempts, and in the process composed a record, “The Arrival,” that makes an alloy of many of the best parts of Rob Zombie, Emigrate/Rammstein and Turisas.

Dampf is not without its own more established metal chops, as “The Arrival” is colored in the margins by the appearance of Tommy Johansson, guitarist from Sabaton, and…one of the bassists from Bathory…though it neglects to mention which one (and honestly, does it matter?) but in any event lends the proceedings a certain authenticity.  The steadying presence of Johansson is evident in the timely, chugging riffs of many of the album’s songs, from the break of the opening “Winterland” down through single “Who Am I.”  As much as we have taken Sabaton over the coals on this site, the contribution here works, as it never ventures close to the preening grandstanding of Sabaton’s monotonous drama.  

While all of the songs offer a little something, there are a few where the synthesis of elements truly stands out, beginning with the under-the-radar track “The Other Side.”  The burst out of the gate is ever-so-slightly reminiscent of Rob Zombie’s “The Great American Nightmare,” and while Dampf never sends both feet down that road, it’s a refreshing call back to a style of sludgy metal that is underutilized in the modern milieu.  Meanwhile, the whole thing cascades into an oversized sing-along chorus, which accentuates the juxtaposition of the big riff and the big vocal.

Now, if there’s fault to be found here, it’s one that all supergroups tend to fall into, particularly on a debut record – that the musicians are feeling each other out, and often writing and recording on a limited and conflicting schedule, so on and so forth.  To that end, once “The Arrival” find its formula, it tends to largely re-arrange similar pieces into seven or eight more songs.  Which is not necessarily a bad thing, and that’s where the ‘pop’ comes in.

All of these cuts, plus or minus a couple, are highly enjoyable and easy to listen to, which is rarely something we get to say in metal as a whole.  “The Arrival” is a pleasant ride, even as beats and guitars are blasting past you as loud as your sound system can handle (and take it as advice – this is best listened to very loud, just to soak in the fun of it all.)

Then, almost at the end, we get “From the E-ternity,” and for almost four minutes, we get a real, transcendent taste of what the amalgam of electro-dance and heavy metal might look like.  Nine Inch Nails and CueStack and Static-X and dozens of others have bitten at the fringes, but rarely if ever with as much pop sensibility.  On an album that shines brightly, this is the brightest star.

Don’t be scared away by the dance history of the man at the center of the project.  Moreover, don’t limit your in some kind of misguided personal stand against popular music.  Spend some time with Dampf’s “The Arrival.”  It’s a fun record.

Album Review: Beth Blade & The Beautiful Disasters - Mythos, Confession, Tragedies And Love

You don't always hear what will be influential when it comes around the first time. While I came to name Halestorm's "Vicious" Album Of The Year in 2018, I did not have any suspicion it would be a record with influence I would hear down the line. I thought it was great, obviously, and it helped me see some things in the rear view mirror a bit differently, but I was certainly caught by surprise when I came across the next album that took that same lessons and sound. I am not flat-footed upon hearing this new Beth Blade & The Beautiful Disasters album, though, both because I'm more ready for it, but also because I know Beth may be an even bigger fan of Lzzy Hale than I am.

Right off the bat, "The Outside" starts things off with a heavy riff and Beth belting as hard as she can. The similarity in tone to something like Halestorm's "Blck Vultures" is apparent, with Beth more than holding her own as a vocal powerhouse. Even from the previous album, she sounds as if she has grown more confident pushing herself. And when you start out with that slightly breathy vocal tone (which is something I've always loved), singing hard simply sounds like rock 'n roll.

She sounds her absolute best on "Hold Your Heart", the dramatic ballad (no, that's not a dirty word) where the acoustic guitars and extra space in the mix leave more room for her voice to reverberate through the speakers. The way the song progresses from a lone guitar and a falsetto vocal, to a powerhouse of strings and Beth at full roar, is perfect. It showcases the softer side, but it still absolutely rocks.

"Persephone" might be the focal point of the album, as it builds from a dark opening through multiple melodies, reaching for the biggest chorus it can find, and throwing in a few almost thrash breaks into the mix. And a key change, too. The band is going for broke on this one, and while you can't do "Stargazer" in four minutes, it has that same attitude of saying 'watch what we can do' about it. As fun as it is to just hammer out a song and rock, there's something to admire about going for something more.

Beth and the band are focused on trying to write big songs with big hooks, and that's what they deliver for the most part. I'm not sure "Ozymandias" works as well on record as it probably will live, but that's balanced out by songs like "Sacrifice", which nail what they're going for. There's plenty of songs like that, blending some rock 'n roll dirt with strong melodies. The closing "Still Not Asking For It" is definitely gritty, and wants to put a closing period on the record by not letting you forget what the band is all about.

If I'm going to nitpick, the one thing I would say is that for all the good Beth and the band do with these songs, the mix of the record is a bit flat. It could stand to sound a bit more powerful when the band revs up, and a bit more shimmering when Beth's vocals are center-stage. But like I said, that's nitpicking.

With Halestorm releasing an album of their own this year, and Beth Blade & The Beautiful Disasters following along, we're seeing the results of years of investment in getting women more involved in the rock scene. I couldn't be happier for that, since listening to Beth Blade is always going to be preferable to the next bro-rock group who haven't discovered how to break free from their rhyming dictionaries.

That's my way of saying Beth and this record have their own kind of charm, and if you give in to that, you're going to hear a record that embodies the good things about rock 'n roll. You can't say no to Beth, can you?