Album Review: Lordi - Screem Writer's Guild

Thank the... Lordi. After putting out an album that imagined Lordi having existed for fifty years, and then upping the ante by turning each of those singular experiments into their own albums, at least this is only a single album. Frankly, I got pissed off at Lordi for what they have been doing lately. There wasn't a chance in hell I was going to listen to a dozen albums of Lordi trying to be something they aren't. I don't get paid to do this, and that was the only way Lordi would ever be worth that much of my time.

The other thing about Lordi is that even when they are sticking to what they do best, I've yet to hear them deliver a full album that I can enjoy from start to finish. They are a singles band, which is fine, except for the fact they put out so many damn albums. Filler is more than filler when it makes up 90% of your total material.

Speaking of filler; On an album that is fourteen tracks long, Lordi opens things with more than a minute of build and noise you can't skip past, which just makes the first song a prime candidate to be skipped, even though it's pretty good. It's these sorts of decisions that make music so frustrating to listen to. I'm giving the band my time and attention, and they go out of their way to make it harder to enjoy the good parts of what they do. Since my patience gets shorter every year, I'm far more prone to hold this against the band, and it's not as if they're starting in my good graces to begin with.

Then after one track, we get a minute long spoken-word interlude. It's as if they are trying to piss me off, and it's working. I never understood why Bruce Dickinson put the one minute build track second on "Accident Of Birth", but I was able to get past that one, because it's a classic album where everything else absolutely slays. Lordi doesn't have that advantage. The first two tracks both push me away, and I know they aren't a good enough band to deliver ten great songs to win me back.

The other thing I find questionable is having the album more-or-less thematically dealing with classic horror movies. I get the Lordi schtick, but when Ice Nine Kills has been getting actual mainstream attention for doing the same thing with 80s slashers and the like, it almost feels like Lordi is trying to jump on the bandwagon. It's the wrong time for this particular theme, no matter how much it fits their aesthetic.

One the full album is absorbed, we're firmly in typical Lordi territory. There are a couple of really good chorus hooks, there's some campy fun, but most of the album slides in one ear and out the other, like a neti pot cleaning my head out of any memory of the band. Lordi is absolutely one of those bands that is enjoyable enough to listen to when the music is on, but who you never feel any pull at all to play when you aren't prompted to.

If you like hooky metal with these kinds of gurgling rough vocals, I would still recommend the album Apostolica put out over Lordi's work. It isn't as tongue-in-cheek, but it also doesn't have the annoyance factor. That's what always bugs me about Lordi; the nagging feeling they could do so much better if they just got out of their own way. They get swallowed up by their concepts, rather than just making great music, and it's led to them always being a disappointment. Here included.

Quick Reviews: Ad Infinitum & Kamelot

Do you like your metal melodic and spit-shined to the point they have absolutely no grit on them at all? This week is for you.

Ad Infinitum - Chapter III: Downfall

The first two Ad Infinitum albums were both quite good, but have fallen into that category of records I have never gone back to. Melissa Bonny is a great singer, and they write solid songs, but I can't say I have thought about a single song of theirs in between the release of the albums. I don't know why that is, and I don't know if it's going to change with this third album.

I think it might have something to do with the pristine production, which is so perfect is tends to cover up the bits of a band's performance we used to call personality. The guitars and drums are nearly robotic in their precision, which is impressive, but it doesn't do much to give the riffs any kind of swing or groove to latch onto. Musically, this is almost a canvas painted with a base coat so close to white you can't tell anything is there.

That leaves everything up to Melissa to deliver memorable melodies, which she proves herself capable of. Top to bottom, I would say this is easily the strongest Ad Infinitum album yet. Whether she's going for a poppier approach like on "Upside Down", or a more ethereal tone like on "Somewhere Better", these songs are direct and to the point about winning you over with plenty of hooks.

Only time will tell if this album endures better than the previous two, but it's starting off at a higher point. Definitely recommended.

Kamelot - The Awakening

This is one of those interesting cases where a band's profile seems bigger than ever, despite it feeling like their best work is long behind them. Kamelot has been treading the same water in the same way for many years, but their fans can't seem to get enough of it. Myself, I can't say I've ever been won over by them. I thought "Ghost Opera" was a good album back in the day, but whether it was their particular style, or Roy Khan in particular, I didn't find myself going back to their music at all. I thought switching Khan for Tommy Karevik would have made a big difference, but I was sorely mistaken.

Tommy has definitely made the role more his own over his tenure, but the scope and saturation of Kamelot's music doesn't give his voice as much room as he has in Seventh Wonder. The production on albums like this is so pristine, and so massive, it actually works against the music. Everything is so loud, the dynamics get swallowed up, and I got tired of listening to this before the album was close to done.

Kamelot is good at what they do, but they are going for an atmosphere that doesn't really mesh with my own attitudes. Couple that with just how similar the records have been, and it's a recipe for me to gloss over whatever is going on here. If you feel like you've heard this all before, it's because you have, and Kamelot doesn't have enough of my attention to overcome that.

Meat Loaf "Couldn't Have Said It Better" Twenty Years Ago

"I love it when a plan comes together."

I grew up watching reruns of "The A-Team" every weekend, and the words of Hannibal Smith have always been lingering in the background. No matter how dire the situation, no matter how ridiculous the tools at your disposal, a plan could be devised to get out of whatever hole you were in. I don't think the show was trying to teach us lessons about perseverance, and they certainly haven't all been taken to heart, but I would like to think there was more to the show than shooting tires and flipping cars.

Sometimes, it's hard to see any plan at all, or at least any way it can ever succeed. Meat Loaf's comeback with "Bat Out Of Hell II" was something no one could have seen coming, but it was putting all the old pieces back together at the exact right time. Looking back, it makes sense that two people who caught the world off-guard would be able to do it again.

Meat Loaf continued his success by hiring people to copy what already worked. While I adore "I'd Lie For You (And That's The Truth)", Diane Warren was brought in to write the best Jim Steinman song he never wrote. She had just as much flare for the dramatic, so the plan was easy to understand. It worked, and it would have made a lot of sense for the next chapter to continue on in that direction.

But it didn't. Meat Loaf's next album was constructed from a plan that never should have gotten off the drawing board. With half the record written by Nikki Sixx (yes, that Nikki Sixx) and his collaborators, it sounded at the time like perhaps the worst idea I had ever heard. It's funny, though, how expectations are often our worst enemy, because the resulting album is my favorite of all the records Meat Loaf put out after he and Steinman realized they would never capture that magic a third time.

"Couldn't Have Said It Better" is one of Meat's less heralded albums, and it's not hard to see why. It came out at a time when he was even less cool than he ever was, and it lacked the massive levels of ham and cheese that allowed him to survive in the pop mainstream as long as he did. It was a straight-laced affair that spoke to the die-hard Meat Loaf fans, so long as they wanted him to rock out more than ever.

Maybe it should have made sense that a hair metal icon would understand how to translate his genre's absurdity to Meat Loaf's. As would be evidenced even further on "Bat Out Of Hell III", Sixx and his crew had fresh ideas and a better sense of how to make a Meat Loaf record at that time than whatever Steinman leftovers would be unearthed in the coming years. You might not think of Meat Loaf as a harder rocker, but the increased presence of guitars on this record played into the big man's big voice.

The title track served as the first single, and is perhaps Meat's finest duet. Yes, I say that in all sincerity. He and Patti Russo were always perfect foils, and the extra volume Sixx's arrangement affords them amplifies the drama of their call-and-response. They belt the song as only they can, the defiant streak of the narrators pours through, and the line "you said nothing at all/well, I couldn't have said it better myself" is a sarcastic quip from the Steinman playbook. Throw in the shredding guitar solo, and we were hearing the future of Meat Loaf.

The other songs from that half of the record drip with the usual Meat Loaf drama. They revisit the want/need/love quandary of "Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad", this time asking why the first two aren't enough. Listening to these songs, it's clear the love the writers had for Meat's legacy, as they hold true to the past while forging a new future. With a song contributed by Dianne Warren as well, there is so much available on the record that should have achieved more than it did.

But like every Meat record that wasn't overseen by Steinman, there were the questionable decisions and song choices that kept things from reaching the heights they should have. I have no idea why they included the barely-a-song "Do It!", or why Meat recorded a cover of "Forever Young" to cap things off. But the most puzzling choice of all was singing "Man Of Steel" as a duet with his daughter. The song comes across as a love ballad, and is lovely... until you stop and think about their relationship. He is singing about "making love to you all night long" WITH HIS DAUGHTER. I understand Meat sings his songs as characters, and envisioned them as little plays, but even miming a romance with his own child is beyond creepy. It's no wonder the song was a failure as a single.

At the time the record came out, my own tastes were trending heavier, so this was the exact record I needed to hear. It kept me grounded in my musical roots, but showed me where I would be heading as well. In a way, perhaps no album better served as the fulcrum between two periods in my life. I was changing, Meat was changing, and the convergence was quite fortuitous.

Twenty years on, I don't have particular memories of that time springing to mind when I put the record on, but I still regularly pull it out and get swept away in the question of 'what if?' The plan worked on this album, but it was soon abandoned. When this record failed, Meat started picking up whatever scraps of Steinman material he could find, and we didn't get to hear what the last phase of his career could have been. In these songs, I hear a vibrant new Meat Loaf I wanted to spend the next decade-plus seeing grow into a hulking monster of dramatic rock. Instead, we got dull records, bad concepts, and the unfortunate song where he sang about barely being able to fit his dick in his pants.

In a way, this was the end of Meat Loaf as I had always known and loved him. So perhaps I should say nothing more, because I couldn't say it any better myself.

Album Review: Fall Out Boy - So Much (For) Stardust

There has always been an air of inauthenticity to Fall Out Boy's music. That was true during their classic era, where the sarcasm and wordplay of their lyrics pointed to them being assholes in a way I don't think they (or at least three of them) were. They hid what they were saying, if they were saying anything at all, under a facade as thick as the eyeliner the emo scene was famous for. That carried over to their post-hiatus work, where the drastic shift into being pop-chasing hit-makers never felt like they were the same band at all. It culminated in "Mania", which was so desperate to sound modern, I don't know if anyone actually thought that was who these people are at the core of their musical hearts.

And so, hearing this record is a 'return to form', and the record that could have come after "Folie A Deux", that inauthenticity rears its head again. After fifteen years of doing anything but sounding like Fall Out Boy, to revert back to what they were after a collosal flop of a record feels like them doing what they think they need to in order to stay relevant.

I'm not complaining about that, by the way. I cared so little about Fall Out Boy during the second act of their career, having them sound like what I remember is gift enough for me. If all they wind up doing is giving me musical comfort food, that's just fine. But do they do more than that?

I find it interesting that an album where the band gets back together with their own sound is preoccupied with heartbreak. Lyrically, these songs are a breakup album, but musically, it's an album about getting back with an ex. I don't think that was intentional at all, but it's fascinating psychology how the end of one phase can send us back to the comfort of something old and familiar. Did we change for the wrong reasons, or are we reverting back to see if there was another path we could have taken instead? We don't always get answers to these questions.

Fall Out Boy does come close to answering them on this album. This is a return to the past, but within the context of years of evolution. The guitars are back in full force, but this is no rehash of their classic trilogy of albums. These songs are not emo or pop/punk in that way. This is still an album written in the more pop-leaning style of their later work, but dressed up to more closely resemble Fall Out Boy. In that sense, it's exactly what the band was aiming for; an album that could serve as the transition between their eras we never got to hear.

What this album tells me is that it was primarily the abruptness of their change, and not the pop songwriting itself, that killed the Fall Out Boy so many of us loved. "Heaven, Iowa" isn't any different than "Centuries" was, but there's more to the arrangement that connects the song to who Fall Out Boy used to be. When you sever the connection with the audience all at once, you lose much of the benefit of the doubt. When it frays on its own, people are able to hold on longer, so they might just make it far enough to reach the other side with you.

I'm not saying if this record had come out after "Folie A Deux" we would have all kept loving Fall Out Boy all along. We would have better understood what they were doing, though, and that can at least make the disappointment easier to handle. That works in reverse, as well. This record is rebounding from such a low point that nearly anything it does that sounds better will be viewed as a miracle.

It's easily the best Fall Out Boy album in fifteen years, but it isn't a great Fall Out Boy album. The lyrics rarely have the clever snark of the past, instead sounding sincere in a voice that has never once shown it can be such. The songwriting has hooks, but the pop kind that don't have the propulsive energy of their best work. I don't know if I would say any song on this record would be rated above more than one or two songs from the entire "From Under The Cork Tree", "Infinity On High", and "Folie A Deux' trilogy. Being better than "Save Rock & Roll" or "Mania" isn't an honor.

That leaves me feeling torn about how I feel. On the one hand, it's nice to have a Fall Out Boy album I can listen to and not feel depressed about. On the other hand, I'm still disappointed by how much of a gap remains between where they once were and where they now are. But maybe I should have expected that all along. When you wrap your album in a cover that looks like a piss-take, you're clearly not fully invested in doing something great. And this isn't.

Fall Out Boy is back, but like an old candy they had to reformulate to meet the current nutritional standards. Is that what we want, or would we have been better off letting go and moving on?

Sophomore Triumphs, Not Slumps

We all have heard about the 'sophomore slump', where the task of following up a lifetime's worth of writing with another album in just a couple of years proves to be too much for some artists. That's certainly understandable, but what is more interesting are the songwriters who manage to improve under the pressure of expectations. Writing your second album is where you prove you have legs, where you show you're going to be able to regularly write great songs, creating a career as opposed to a flash in the pan.

So which second albums did the best job of taking a step up from a debut? That's what we're going to discuss today. I will put this caveat on things; while I'm saying each of these albums is a major step up from the debut, I am not saying these are necessarily the best albums in the catalogs. For at least one of these, it is absolutely the case the third album is the one I would easily call their best.

There are also a few albums you might think would make the list, but I'm going to be leaving off. First among those would be Elvis Costello's "This Year's Model". It's a great record, and in many ways it defined Elvis even to this day, but I find myself going back to "My Aim Is True" even more. The two records are pretty much on the same level, so I can't say there was a step up, even if most other people do. Also missing the cut will be Weezer's "Pinkerton". This one isn't because I am a "Blue" defender, but rather because "Pinkerton" has become such a problematic album in my mind. I love the production, and it's a better set of melodies from start to finish, but the lyrics are so awful I feel dirty listening to the album these days. Just for the skeevy feeling it gives me, there's no way I can say it's an improvement over the debut.

Now on to my picks.

The Wallflowers - Bringing Down The Horse

Have you ever listened to their debut album? I didn't think so, because it's mostly a forgotten relic that was buried in the wake of their success. They started out even rootsier, but with songs too long and self-indulgent to be engaging over the long running time. "One Headlight" was more than a turning point, it was a moment in time when we could hear Jakob Dylan find his voice as a songwriter. They stripped things back, focused on the core of the songs, and put out an album that completely redefined what we thought they were capable of.

Rainbow - Rising

When you can put out a record only thirty-five minutes long that is still considered a stone-cold classic, you're operating on a whole different level. The band's debut had a handful of legendary songs, but with a couple of clunkers, covers, and instrumentals, it's a flawed beast. That isn't the case here, as Blackmore and Dio elevate their game to the point some people claim this record may have invented the idea of power metal. This album has "Stargazer" on it, and that the rest of the record doesn't cower in its shadow is a testament to how great Rainbow was.

Transatlantic - Bridge Across Forever

I always complain about bands that waste our time. Transatlantic were still finding their footing on their debut record, and they wasted nearly twenty minutes with a cover song. I don't know why, but thankfully they followed that up with my favorite prog album of all time. They were all in their heyday as writers, and they had so many ideas they could barely stitch them together into these epic songs. Prog might piss me off these days, but this is one of the rare times when self-indulgence makes perfect sense.

Fall Out Boy - From Under The Cork Tree

We can debate which of the big three Fall Out Boy albums is the best one, but for me there's no question "Take This To Your Grave" was an embryonic album that was merely setting the stage for what was to come. The band sounded heavier, hookier, and Pete's lyrics found the right amount of asshole snark. They might have sounded like people you wanted to punch in the face, but the songs made you punch the air instead. If "Saturday" was the only thing they did, there would have been more broken noses, methinks.

Kelly Clarkson - Breakaway

As I have said many times, I think this might just be the best record the pop mainstream I listened to may have ever produced. Pop is a singles genre, and Kelly gave us an album where ever single song could have been a single. Nothing on the somewhat bland debut could possible touch what "Since U Been Gone", "Behind These Hazel Eyes", and "Because Of You" managed to achieve. That doesn't even take into account the amazing deeper cuts, where Kelly burned through half a career's worth of potential hits in one album cycle.

Singles Roundup: Sweet & Lynch, Jax Hollow, Powerwolf, & Metallica

Let's see what the jukebox has in store for us this time.

Sweet & Lynch - You'll Never Be Alone

I've never been fond of Michael Sweet as a singer, and this song is a perfect example of why. This is a song about being there for the person you love, which ostensibly makes it a supportive love song. He comes out of the gates singing at full volume, belting in a way that doesn't carry much emotion besides volume. It's an approach with no nuance, which translates to the lyric. He sings, "I want to be your rock, an anchor you can't move." I know what he means, but taken literally, the words he uses are saying he wants to tie her down and never let her grow and move in new directions. Being someone's anchor is not a metaphor you should want to take on voluntarily, and it turns this song into a comedy of errors.

Jax Hollow - Wallflower Girl In Bloom

This song is a delightful twist of expectations. Rather than more soulful blues, this is a peppy acoustic number wherein Jax is awed and amazed by the wallflower girl when she steps out of the shadows and into the light. There's some slick acoustic guitar playing that can slide past without realizing how precise Jax needed to be to pull it off, and her vocal tone embodies the sense of wonder. From these two singles, it seems Jax is growing into her own as a writer and performer, and the best sounds like it's yet to come.

Powerwolf - No Prayer By Midnight

Bands like Powerwolf find themselves in a tough spot, because everything they do sounds like everything they've done. Powerwolf knows their sound, and they write songs to fit it. That's a great thing, because they never disappoint. It's also a bad thing, because they never invite the possibility of disappointment. This song is a typical Powerwolf single, with the same quick vocal delivery that has hooked us for many an album cycle. They do what they do so well. I just wish they would switch things up with something slower and more dramatic a bit more often.

Metallica - If Darkness Had A Son

Three for three, Metallica continues to underwhelm. As the songs they have previewed get longer, my patience gets shorter. There are a couple of good ideas in here, but the song stretches so long they get ridden into the ground. The repetition of the song's main idea is a death sentence, which can't be rescued by the rather dull chorus, and is given last rites by Kirk Hammet's flailing wah-pedal solo. We know from their own documentaries they write songs by collecting riffs and stitching the ones in the same key together. That has never sounded like a worse way of working than leading up to this new record. I don't know if I could sit through more than an hour of this at one time.

Album Review: Redemption - I Am The Storm

There aren't many vestiges left of the brief time I spent interested in what the prog scene had to offer. It feels like a bit of a fever dream now, the sort of thing that doesn't seem like it could have been real. In the time since, I have certainly grown weary of prog, tired of length and complexity without the 'songs' to make the indulgence worth the effort. With so many other options, spending time listening to music that doesn't know how to get to the point lost its appeal, when I could spend that same time listening to more songs that do things better.

There were a few prog albums that have managed to remain favorites, even as I have changed. Redemption had a couple of them, and were easily my favorite prog metal band... for a while. That changed when Ray Alder was replaced by Tom Englund, as his voice didn't speak to me at all on his first outing with the band. I'm giving them another chance, but maybe it's just a way for me to feel better about moving on. Let's find out.

The album opens with the two pre-release singles, which are classic Redemption, for both good and bad. The prog-meets-thrash riffing of the title track is right in the band's wheelhouse, but the introduction of a spoken word break is the sort of indulgent thing I've never been able to look past. If those words are important, why not turn them into an extra melody to enhance the song? I'm not putting a record on to listen to people talk. Then there's "Seven Minutes From Sunset", which sounds like Redemption at their best... because the chorus gave me a severe sense of deja vu. The instant Tom broke into the melody, it took me back to "Damaged", and I haven't ben unable to hear it since.

Then there's an even bigger issue. At least on the promo I was listening to, we get two different versions of "The Emotional Depiction Of Light", and two cover songs as well. The Seven actual new songs here would be enough on their own, so I don't know why they felt the need to throw this extra stuff on, cluttering up the album. At least when they put a cover song on "The Art Of Loss", it was only one track. Here, three of the ten tracks are completely unnecessary. If I was grading this like a test, that's thirty percent right off the top. We're close to a failing grade before even assessing if the actual new material is any good.

I can't claim to be a fan of "The Emotional Depiction Of Light", where the big cresendo involves multiple layers of Englund's voice dancing around the stereo field, but they're all sung so softly and mixed so low they come out nearly inaudible. It's supposed to be the key melodic bit of the song, but it turns into a mess of nothingness. If there is a melody, it gets consumed by the production choices, and the song can't hold my interest after that.

There was something special about Redemption from "The Origins Of Ruin" through "The Art Of Loss", but I hear very little of that anymore. Between the covers, the odd decisions, and Englund's voice simply not appealing to me, Redemption is an entirely different band than the one I used to love. I think the main takeaway for me is this; if Redemption is right that "[they] are the storm", then I'm ready to find some shelter.

Album Review: Necropanther - "Betrayal"

It’s taken a disproportionate amount of time to pen this review, in no small part because it’s been difficult to pin down what the real thoughts and reflections are about the album.  It was well within intent to have this done and dusted before the album’s release on March 3rd, and yet here we are, still without completely cogent ideas, but with enough to go on.

So, we’re just gonna start talking, and hopefully amidst the rambling sentiments there will be some themes that give a decent picture of what Necropanther’s “Betrayal” both is and isn’t.

For starters, this is thrash in the new millennium, borrowing heavily from death metal, both distant and recent, yet keeping the core of simple, accessible riffs that became the hallmark of thrash forty years ago.  

Stripping away the vocals from Necropanther, it’s easy to see a spiritual successor to the bright-but-brief phenomenon that was Power Trip.  Let’s drill down for a second into what is surely the album’s best song, “If You Can Count,” which ohbytheway, is representative of the climactic speech delivered by Cyrus in the most memorable scene in “The Warriors,” upon which the whole album is loosely based (and also upon the Greek myth that the film is in turn based on.)  Guitarist/vocalist Paul Anop noted that “Betrayal” is the first time he’s really allowed himself to stretch into solos, and the effect transforms Necropanther into something more than just another new age thrash/death band.  The solo he unleashes toward the end of the song is more rock than metal, more Van Halen than Slayer, and however brief it may be, in stands in stark juxtaposition to the rest of the song.  It serves as the perfect bridge into the twin guitar outro, which is again notable for its brevity.

Skipping ahead to “Revenants,” we encounter much of the same pattern.  Does anyone remember the 2010 album by As They Sleep, called “Dynasty”?  That was a middling record, but it was punctuated by one sublime, transcendent single, “Bedlam at the Nile.”  It took the better part of a week to figure out where the song construction of “Revenants” was familiar from, and finally there it was.  This new track by Necropanther inverts the formula, going with the grindy bit first, followed by the galloping riff, and then grinds back out, but the dance steps are similar.

As “Betrayal” proceeds it dips more and more into the death metal patterns of recent years, sounding at many points similar to Vaelmyst’s recent “Secrypts of the Egochasm.” We mention this only because the combination of these albums, and their combined utilization of melodic riffs and solos flayed out over the nailbed of frenetic drums, lends hope that perhaps the next wave of great American thrash/death is nigh.  Some years ago, it was believed that Lazarus AD might be the flagbearer for that march, and then Power Trip in their turn, but for reasons either confounding or heartbreaking, the wave crashed against the rocks and receded.  Hope springs eternal here.

“Betrayal” bears the hallmarks, intentional or accidental, of some other albums from relative yesteryear, like the aforementioned Lazarus AD’s “The Onslaught,” and even the barest hint of Prototype’s progressive metal “Catalyst.”  

And so it’s easy to recommend “Betrayal” as a satisfying and accomplished listen for all fans of either death or thrash, no matter the personal preferred stripe….and yet.

For all its accomplishment, both in technical merit and in so low a concept as simple enjoyability, there is a certain je ne sais quoi that holds the production back.  It’s almost as though the album is equal to the sum of its parts, no more and no less.  It is difficult to find the ‘ah-ha!’ moment that makes truly brilliant albums shine.

That said, and this in no way clears the muddied waters of this humble review, this review was published when it was simply so that it could be run reasonably near the album’s release.  Listening to “Betrayal” hasn’t stopped, and every subsequent pass yields some new find, some minor discovery, or at least paints the pictures in different relief.

There is no conclusion because there is not yet a firm conclusion.

Album Review: Miley Cyrus - Endless Summer Vacation

As I have said many times, I am not much of a pop music fan these days. Other than having no choice but to hear whatever Taylor Swift is working on, I am rather disconnected from the scene. It was a happenstance of evolution, wherein the trends changed in one direction and I chaned in the other. I hold no grudge against what's going on, but I suppose there is a part of me that feels a bit saddened to not be able to find in the music even a hint of what most people do. Even if I don't agree, being able to understand the conventional wisdom would be welcome.

For a moment in time, that happened. When "Flowers" came out and began to take over the world, I gave it a shot, and I found myself finally agreeing with everyone else (Ok, not everyone - several critics I pay attention to all found it bland and uninspired). Miley had made something I truly loved, and I could hear in her voice the star she has somewhat inexplicably always been.

That's the thing about "Flowers". It isn't a flashy song, nor would I say it is the most 'pop' of pop songs, but to my ears it is the best vehicle Miley has ever had for her voice. Everything from the tone of the production to the 'eff you' attitude of the lyrics served as a perfect canvas for her rough-and-tumble voice. In the wrong hands, it could be too much, but this was absolutely perfect.

That gave me both excitement and pause as the album approached. Excitement, because perhaps this could be the rare pop album I would find myself enjoying. Pause, because getting my hopes up based on one song in an entire career is foolish. And indeed it would be foolish, as "Endless Summer Vacation" is the sort of album that makes me want to love it, but than smacks me in the face to remind me how painful pop music can be.

Divided into two halves, they give me entirely different feelings. "Flowers" leads off the first, and those five songs tap into the same laid-back coldness. The production is demure, and Miley's voice does all the heavy lifting. Her lyrics about being tired of dealing with all the shit, and not wanting to look back and remember things being better than they were, fit her voice like a glove. Her tone is splendid, and I'm completely bought in.

The problems come at the end of the first half, with "Handstand" serving as the transition. It rides a bed of soft noise, with spoken word lyrics that build to nothing. It's the sort of transition that should have ben thirty seconds, but instead goes on for more than three minutes. It is the snooze button of the album, but really is the point where I can turn it off.

The second half of the record is more pop, more energetic, and entirely boring. As the production adds layers, Miley's voice sinks into the mix. She sounds more anonymous, and all the beauty of her rasp dissolves into the speakers. Couple that with songs that lean heavy on their repetition, with choruses that deliver the same line again and again, and suddenly this vacation feels like work.

By dividing the album in half, Miley is essentially presenting us two EPs. That might feel artistic, but it also means the differences in her approach is made all the more stark. As an EP, the first five songs here would be a fantastic release. As an EP, the last six songs would be a mildly enjoyable release. Together, they make for an album so frustrating it leaves me with a sour taste in my mouth. The best work of Miley's career is weighed down by extra pop fluff that doesn't fit with the tone. This is one of the rare cases where I would actually prefer this release to be an EP, because if Miley only had five songs leaning into an approach, it would have been more satisfying to hear them as a self-contained unit.

If all that sounds conflicted, it is. How I wish it wasn't.

"Sing The Sorrow", Echoing Twenty Years On

I never went through an emo phase. I listened to the Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance singles as they came out, but at that time I was in a completely different state of mind. What I find interesting is that as those records begin to reach their twentieth anniversaries, I am listening to them more than ever, and better understanding the whole appeal of the movement.

Even at the time, AFI seemed to be operating in a different lane than the other bands seeping into the mainstream. They were not trying to be clever and cheeky with their puns, nor were they using imagery to be a soundtrack to the silent horror of the past. No, AFI was the tortured soul of an artist being presented to us through anthemic punk and melodramatic poetry. "Sugar, We're Going Down" and "Helena" might have been just as infectious as "Girl's Not Grey" was from this record, but only one of those songs tugs at you with the weight of saying something profound. Or at least giving us the impression it is.

There is pretension in these songs, but it is the overblown over-compensation for not being able to fully explain what pain feels like to someone else, and not in the 'look how clever I am' way. I love those classic Fall Out Boy records too, but they wink-and-nod so hard a you the face staring back is distorted and unidentifiable. AFI took the same elements of emo, but wrapped them up in a delivery that makes us feel like we aren't alone staring up at the night sky and the "Silver And Cold". That is what I have come to see as the strength of great emo; the ability to find community in sadness, to at least rob it of the power to isolate us from everyone else.

That is why the album's immediacy and pop-punk hooks are so important. Rather than wallowing in the kind of tortured howling that pushes away everyone who isn't at the depths of their dispair, these songs are able to span from one end to the other of the sine wave created by placing a smile next to a frown. Everyone was able to find something in this music to embrace, and that diversity lets us find the connections that tie all of us to the same experience. It makes no obvious sense for this music to appeal to the various groups and sub-cultures it does, so we perhaps see bits of ourselves where we would not otherwise look.

"From Under The Cork Tree" was the album that put all of this music on the map for me, and it's the most technicolor of them. Fall Out Boy was painting with a wider palate, smearing clownish colors on their faces for the laughs. My Chemical Romance made "The Black Parade", which tried to use epic scope to put our various levels of issues and depressions into perspective. AFI was more focused, using the narrow scope of colors and sounds to burn the feeling into us every time we listened to the album. And listen we did, again and again.

Danny's voice shifting from soft crooning to raspy screams was the Jekyl and Hyde in us all, where the same feelings of pain were sometimes enough to make us scream, and sometimes too much to speak of. Of the records I've been talking about, this is the only one that feels like real and personal emotion, the kind we feel on a visceral level. There is less detachment between us and the music, so when the drums play a march as they lead into a rousing chorus, it captures the swell of a fit of rage in a way the others can't.

Records that get better with age are an exception to the rule. "Sing The Sorrow" is one of them, as every year I feel the music more than I did the last time. It was the last of these emo albums I found myself getting into, but it's the one I can honestly say is the most human of them. One might be the more fun album to revisit, another the bigger artistic statement, but "Sing The Sorrow" is the most important of these albums, because it's the one that still feels relevant to life's journey. Sometimes we do need to bleed ourselves of the toxicity in us, and that is a job "Sing The Sorrow" does better than anything else of its time.

Quick Reviews: Phantom Elite & Demons Down

This week's two-fer is:

Phantom Elite - Blue Blood

There are so many new bands popping up, I feel bad for how many of them I forget before their next album comes around. When I was opening this new Phantom Elite album, it wasn't until I read the accompanying press materials that I realized I had listened to their previous one. Like so much music, anything that doesn't do something special to catch my attention gets swallowed by the never-ending torrent of releases. I feel bad about it, but it's largely out of my control.

With this album, I'm not sure if that will change. Their music is thoroughly modern and heavy, mixing those deep djent riffs with big choruses. Marina is more than capable as a singer, and it's easy to hear this album fitting in with the current trends of the scene. And therein lies the problem; Phantom Elite sounds like a combination of what is popular, and not as much like a band with their own unique personality. When they shift from ultra heavy riffing on one song, to an almost trip-hop beat during the verses of the next, and throw in some screaming in the next, the pieces don't feel like they all come from the same puzzle.

After a while, the bouncing between sounds loses its novelty, and it becomes a drag on the album. As soon as you hear something interesting, the band shifts gears into something completely different. It's hard for me to stay engaged when every second I'm worried they're about to pull the rug out from under me. We don't want everything to sound exactly the same, but there is a degree to which when I put on a record by a band, it's because I want to hear the band's sound. Phantom Elite doesn't have one, and that's why I ultimately get bored of this record. And probably why I had forgotten the last one.

Demons Down - I Stand

I feel a bit sorry for James Robledo. When his band Sinner's Blood put out their album, I really liked it, and I nearly put it on my year-end list. Since then, he has been on what seems like half a dozen records, trying to get two or three other projects off the ground, all the while the band that caught my attention has done nothing. He is quickly turning into Ronnie Romero, who is a hired-gun I cannot bring myself to care about in the slightest, because he will seemingly sing anything that gets put in front of him.

He's a talented singer, but when the impression I get is that he doesn't have any connection to what he's singing beyond the signature on the recording contract, how am I supposed to care? Romero recently commented that in a decade he's has a career it would normally take thirty years to achieve. That might be true in quantity, but almost none of his work has made any sort of impact, because his omnipresence makes it hard to get invested in any one of them in particular. Robledo is headed down that road, and we all know who to blame (hint; the same people are responsible for both men's situation).

With three members of House Of Lords in the band, it's pretty obvious what this is going to sound like. It's lovely melodic rock with plenty of keyboards, that kind of music that is a bit too heavy to really be AOR, but isn't what you would really call 'heavy' either. Again, if you know House Of Lords, you know what I mean here. The good news is that I do enjoy that style, and this album is actually done better than the last two or three albums from that group. In particular, Robledo's voice has more body and depth to it, so the melody doesn't feel as shrill as it hits your ears.

This record is very familiar, but it's done very well. I enjoyed it.

Morrissey vs The Smiths

Influence is a hard thing to wrap our heads around sometimes. The Smiths were around for just a few short years, but they put out a host of music that continues to echo through time. Morrissey has been a solo artist for over three decades, but no matter what sales success he achieves, his solo music is never going to endure in the public consciousness the same way. It is The Smiths, for better or worse, that has the upper hand in that department. It may be Johnny Marr's guitar playing, it may be Morrissey's messaging being more efficient, or it might just be that it's easier to separate the band from the man, when the man is as problematic as Morrissey.

I came to Morrissey's music only after he was a cultural relic attempting a comeback, so that timing will undoubtedly impact the way I hear all of this music. The Smiths are a relic of a past I was too young to remember, a seismic record of an event that never altered my path.

As I think about everything Morrissey has done, I begin from this conclusion; Morrissey was never as smart, or as good a lyricist, as his reputation suggests. There are the occasional lines here and there to catch my ear, but by and large he is a post-punk in the way he makes an effort of sounding like he puts no effort into his work.

On some of the biggest hits he has ever been associated with, like "How Soon Is Now?" and "Shoplifters Of The World Unite", he practically repeats entire verses rather than come up with something else to say. He is the kind of writer who thinks being inspired by a book means his own lyrics are literary, completely twisting the role of artistry in the proceedings. On a song like "November Spawned A Monster", when he says of the wheelchair-bound character, "so ugly, so ugly", are we really supposed to act like he is uttering something profound? There is no discernible social commentary about the way life is designed with little accommodation for people who are not fully able, nor does he offer up any rebuttal to the narrator to defend her worth and gifts as a person. All he has is a clumsy line about the "wheels underneath her".

Likewise, later on he would write songs calling America a "big fat pig" for never having a gay President, while on the same album he titled a song "All The Lazy Dykes". Clearly, Morrissey thinks only in three minute intervals, and has no philosophy all of his work can be grafted onto. And let's not forget the masterful poetic couplet in "The More You Ignore Me The Closer I Get"; "I'm sitting at the bar/with my head on the bar". Or the chorus to "Hairdresser On Fire", where he sings, "You're always busy. Really busy. Busy, busy." True artistry there.

But I'm getting off-topic here. Despite his shortcomings as a lyricist, Morrissey has one of the most oddly charismatic voices, and he has in fact wielded it on some wonderful music. It may have taken me a long time to come to terms with that, but both The Smiths and Morrissey the solo artist have a compilation's worth of amazing songs I have found myself listening to again and again in recent times.

But which is better?

Working in the favor of The Smiths is how they burned bright and burned out. They were not around long enough to decline into self-parody, and their best songs are easily the best Morrissey ever helped to pen. "How Soon Is Now?", "Shoplifters Of The World Unite" and "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out" are a trio of songs that simply can't be beat. The entire world of depressing sad-sack indie-emo can be traced in large part to those songs, and none of those bands have ever been more effective in sounding like philosophy majors who have finally understood the big questions of the universe can never be answered, no matter how much yelling and reasoning we do.

Working in the favor of Morrissey's solo career is his longevity, as the amount of music he has made lowers the bar for his success rate. None of his early records hold up very well as full entities, nor do his latest works, but dotted throughout are songs that can't be denied. "November Spawned A Monster" is a classic even as it is irredeemable, while "Every Day Is Like Sunday" and "The More You Ignore Me The Closer I Get" are Morrissey writing melodic songs in a way he seldom would.

That's the thing about Morrissey. The man loves to hear himself talk, and he writes like it, but that means his songs often come off as diatribes more than melodic nuggets. He may come up with a great single on nearly every record, but the rest of the tracks are the tuneless ramblings of a man who thinks everything he has to say it too important to get covered up with petty things like a melody. It makes his career both incredibly frustrating, but also easily digestible. When boiled down to compilations, all the Morrissey I could ever need fits in tidy playlists.

So what is the tie-breaker? Ah, that's the thing. Despite being around for four decades, I think Morrissey has only made one album I truly love as a full-length. I have written before about my attachment to "You Are The Quarry", and it's that record that tips the scales. I can make a best-of for either side and barely see a difference in the quality level. Beyond that, I don't need to listen to anything more from The Smiths. With the solo work, I would be disappointed not to hear "You Are The Quarry" ever again, let alone the glorious B-side "Friday Mourning".

I am tempering my praise, because Morrissey is one of those people who I have to fight my feelings to enjoy. The man does not make it easy to be a fan, both musically and with his personality. What kind of sullen word nerd would I be if I didn't have a bit of Morrissey in me?

I don't know if I'll ever come to embrace any of that old music I have more or less written off, or if he could ever catch lightning and make something I like again, but right now the scale tips slightly in the direction of Morrissey outweighing The Smiths.

Singles Roundup: Manowar, Illumishade, Elegant Weapons, & Jelusick

Let's start this week with a doozy.

Manowar - Laut Und Hart Stark Und Schnell

I believe I have said previously that Manowar is on the 'dead to me' list, but this song is so awful I feel like saying something about it. Manowar has always been terrible, and this is no exception. Despite owning a studio, the recent Manowar productions have been flatly unacceptable. This song sounds like it was recorded in 1983, which was a time when Manowar had to be the loudest band on the planet, because that was the only way to make a record sound heavy. This just sounds amateurish... and that's the bright side. Lyrically, the song is mostly in German, which leads to an uncomfortable bit where it sounds like Eric is singing "Manowar, giant smell." I wasn't able to stop laughing before he got to the one English line, "if you don't like us, go to hell." All the false bravado, the body oil, and the loincloths, have never been able to make this bunch of posers into a fraction of the big manly men they want to be. 'Like us or go to hell' is not being tough, it's being a whiny little child who is trying to convince us we're wrong for not recognizing their greatness. To use the old line about not wanting to be a member of any club that would have me, being excluded from the world of Manowar is one of my proudest achievements as a music fan.

Illumishade - Hymn

The second single in recent times finds the group a bit more restrained in their approach. The symphonic elements are tucked a bit further back, and used more as a quick punch of drama, as opposed to drowning the entire song in it. That gives even more room in the mix for Fabienne's voice, which rings with nearly unparalleled beauty. There's something incredibly charming about how her voice blends in with the mix, selling the melody like a red-tag sale on a designer item. Symphonic metal is tough to pull off, but Illumishade continues to make it look easy. If these songs are harbingers for something bigger coming our way, the sky will be precious with how silver the linings appear.

Elegant Weapons - Blind Leading The Blind

When you combine the member of Judas Priest who wasn't there for any of the classic stuff with a singer who doesn't write songs, that seems to me to be a recipe for disaster. And yet, much to my surprise, this first song from their new project is actually quite good. The vocal is mixed far too low in the mix, which is expected for a guitarist's band, but otherwise they give us a much stronger and hookier song than I would have expected. Compared to what Vivian Campbell's band Last In Line has offered up in advance of their forthcoming album, this is light years better.

Jelusick - Reign Of Vultures

Dino Jelusick is breaking free of the hired-gun model with a band named after himself, so presumably we are finally getting to hear him as he intends. This song certainly gives me an impression. It starts off heavy and modern, and then turns into an almost hair metal chorus. While it does give him room to use his cleanest vocals alongside some gruffer moments, I'm not sure it really holds together as a cohesive song, and that chorus melody isn't very sticky at all. Perhaps 80s aficionados will like it more than I do, because hearing hair metal creeping in is usually a good way to get me to tune out.

Album Review: Trench Dogs - Stockholmiana

We use some terms in derogatory ways, even when a bit of logic would tell us they aren't that at all. For example, let's take the term 'bar band'. That gets thrown around as a pejorative, an indication of a band's supposed lack of top-line talent. But why? If we think about it, those bars the bands are playing in are packed every weekend by people listening to that music. Whether we want to admit it or not, more people listen to that kind of music than most of the more 'artistic' strains. We can call it the 'Nickelback Principle', if you would like.

So when I say Trench Dogs have the sound and spirit of a bar band, I don't mean it as a bad thing. In fact, the down-to-earth relatability is a big part of their charm. Unlike a lot of bands, they don't give us so much posing and posturing they put us off with their dedication to being edgy rockers. Sometimes music is just a soundtrack for a good time, often as we're doing something else, and that's just fine.

Trench Dogs caught my ear because their music fits into the same mold as the recent Michael Monroe albums I have enjoyed so much. There's a dirty old-school rock and roll approach to this music, but Trench Dogs do it with a laid-back charm where they aren't spitting venom or playing with piss and vinegar. Again, that is a good thing. Trench Dogs' music is more inviting, and opens itself up to fitting more tones and moods.

Writing a song about missing the feeling pumpkin soup used to give you is a far cry from the days of Guns N Roses. This is more about brown sugar, not Mr Brownstone. I like this, because it keeps in mind the classic 80s rock star look was patently ridiculous. There was a bit of theater of the absurd to the whole thing all along, and it seems to me that gets lost in the discussions about why rock is struggling today. Rock used to be so much about image that cutting your hair was a major headline. That kind of undercuts the whole idea that rock was all about the music, and being 'real', now doesn't it?

There isn't much better in rock than finding yourself in a song-along, and that's what a track like "Wine Stained Eyes" is able to do. It's a perfect use of backing vocals, using them not as a gang chant, but as a communal experience where we're all getting swept up in the moment. It's those kinds of hooks that rock is so often missing out on, and it's the reason Trench Dogs succeed as much as they do. These songs are ingratiating, and extend a hand like an old friend.

No, Trench Dogs don't break any new ground on this record, but let's put this in perspective. If you dig a hole, you might strike gold, or oil, or water. You might also wind up with a giant pile of dirt. Sometimes doing what you know is going to work is the right thing, especially if you can do it better than many of the people already doing it. That's what Trench Dogs are doing; playing sticky old rock and roll better than a lot of the bands that get all the attention for it. "Stockholmiana" is a charming record that's a good bit of fun. It doesn't need to be anything more than that to be a winner.