Album Review: Firewind - Stand United

As time wears on, it has become apparent to me that Firewind was a 'one and done' type of band for me. I absolutely love "The Premonition", and that has become the only Firewind album I ever find myself going back to. The others Apollo sang on are still good, but I never feel drawn to them, and I have been unable to get into anything since he left. That's probably on me, rather than them, but it's disappointing when a record you feel is doing something special turns out to be the outlier in a more generic timeline.

Maybe that's what bothers me so much about Firewind these days. Gus G gets talked about as being a guitar hero, but I don't quite know why. He's a talented player, but what music has he made that is inspiring the next generation of guitar players? Firewind isn't that big of a band, most of his playing fits into the generic style of power metal, and he wasn't even allowed to write a single riff when he played with Ozzy. I don't get it.

It also annoyed me when Apollo first left that Gus wrote an entire album with his producer, rather than with the band. That move really made it clear Firewind is almost a solo project with more name value than Gus has on his own.

So now we come to the new album, where I think the reaction will come down to what I'm calling a very 'love it or hate it' voice in Herbie Langerhans. I can absolutely understand how people will hear him as an aggressive singer who makes Firewind sound harder and heavier than ever before, but his style of grit being performed at that register is uncomfortable to my ears. He was ok on Avantasia records as a guest star, but listening to him for an entire record becomes an endurance test for me. I have a thing with singers. What can I say?

The songs themselves are fine enough power metal, trying to balance the desire to be heavier than average with the need to remain melodic. "The Power Lies Within" manages the feat of marrying a stomping Sabbath-esque riff with the hookiest chorus on the record. If they could do that time and again, they would be doing something well worth hearing. That style is far more interesting than the paint-by-numbers power metal songs, which can't be salvaged by Gus' playing. I've never been that interested in guitarists who can throw a hundred notes into eight bars of a solo, and Gus has a tendency to use speed to cover up the fact he's not playing a hummable melody.

All of this is to say that Firewind is moving in the right direction, but it isn't the way I'm headed. This record is certainly an improvement over what I remember of their recent work, and power metal fans should eat this stuff right up. There are plenty of solid songs, and the record does what it aims to do. As I said before, I'm never going to be able to be as positive as perhaps I should, simply because I don't enjoy the actual sounds the record is giving us. If there was a different voice singing these songs, I would be telling you this could wind up being the one power metal record that seems to always sneak onto my year-end list. However, I can't say that with any degree of honesty.

Don't let my hangup stop you, though. If you want to hear power metal doing what power metal does, but done well, give the record a try. I can note the difference between being good and being good for me. Maybe the line will be thinner for you.

Album Review: The Requiem - A Cure To Poison The World

Apparently, there has been an emo revival I haven't been made fully aware of. I was never an emo, and I wasn't really listening to that stuff during its heyday, but I've found in recent years it has been a nice way of washing out the bitter taste of how rock music has been moving away from my tastes. The Requiem is part of this revival, and this record is a nostalgia bomb for anyone who remembers the days of AFI and My Chemical Romance making it cool to be a drama geek.

This record is basically a fusion of "Sing The Sorrow" and "The Black Parade", with plenty of gang vocals and furiously strummed guitars, and a singer who could easily take the lead on a stage production of the latter of those albums. The difference is that by being influenced by those records, The Requiem is narrowing the focus to the lessons that have been learned. At only 36 minutes, they have distilled their songwriting into bursts of energy that are less concerned with setting the stage than in killing once they're on it.

The Requiem has managed to find the knife's edge where they are writing hooky sing-alongs that remain music for outsiders. There is a pop element to how infectious these songs become with repeated listens, but you'll never mistake them for being pop. The band is too cool to remain anything but uncool, in the mainstream sense. What they do is give those of us who look back fondly on that time a fix of what used to be, and what rock seldom is anymore.

"Cursed" is one of the best songs I've heard so far this year, a true emo anthem, but it's far from the only great song here. Whether the band is pulling from their punk roots, or wringing the anguish from a ballad, they deliver the hooks and melodies that remind us most outsiders would like to be invited in, although on our own terms.

When wallflowers slink back into the shadows, it's because there is something comforting about being wrapped up in a color that matches your mood. The Requiem paint their songs with the cheap bottle dye and dollar-store eyeliner that tries to cover up the color in our lives. It makes us feel better about not being the extroverts using the spotlight as if it provides the Vitamin D we all need, but it's not enough for us to forget that there are still people underneath the masks we apply.

All of that is a way of saying that there's something comforting about this record I think needs to be felt for yourself, rather than explained through my tortured metaphors. "A Cure To Poison The World" is the sort of record that will appeal to anyone who thinks melodrama is the only kind of drama, and who like downbeat music just for the joke of it matching their outlook on life.

The Requiem have given us an utterly charming record that gives me some faith that I haven't yet reached the point of being so jaded as to hate everything. I can't help but love this record for everything it is, everything it reminds me of, and the fact it can actually get me to crack a smile. Will it be the best album of the year? Time will tell, but right now it might just be the best record I've heard so far.

What's the world come to when emo is the happy highlight?

Album Review: Ihsahn - "Ihsahn - Studio Version"

Inevitably, some musicians wear out their welcome.  Their career spans too many years, crosses too many generations of audiences, or simply becomes stale as living becomes comfortable and new ideas come slowly or fade away into the clutter.

Ihsahn, by contrast, continues to stay vital as he hurtles toward fifty years old by continually challenging and expanding his horizons, this time, with a totally novel twist, even as the base music itself leans heavily into his black metal roots.

“Ihsahn” the album comes in two flavors – the studio album (as read about here,) and the orchestral album, which is simply the stripped-down score of the first.  You know, we say ‘simply,’ but consider the implications of what’s being said here.  Ihsahn went out and wrote an extreme metal album while collaborating with a symphony orchestra for the duration of the act.

Plenty of artists have tried their hand at symphonic albums.  Metallica, famously.  Serj Tankian, for another.  Hell, London Philharmonic took it upon themselves to produce symphonic albums for Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd (both of which are pretty good, though the Zeppelin one is stronger.)  So, Ihsahn didn’t create a revolutionary idea, but he did revolutionize the idea by charging an orchestra to keep pace with his home base of black metal.

The success of Ihsahn’s plan is evident early, as “The Promethean Spark” gallops ahead, sounding at its base like something from the latter days of Darkthrone, but the addition of the staccato violins in the blank spaces of the main riff lend a depth and presence to the sound that is thoroughly uncommon in this brand of music.  Sure, Dimmu Borgir and Cradle of Filth and a pile of others have gone down this road to some degree, but the symphonic backing has always been manufactured.  The authenticity of “Ihsahn” is its strength – a truly organic melding of genuine symphony and metal.

Skip down to “Twice Born,” and the same kind of symbiosis of music that we talked about above rings true, but it’s by this point that the realization dawns that what Ihsahn really has done, and we mean this as a true compliment, is make a symphony sound small.  Not to say that it’s a chamber quartet or anything, but other bands who have gone the symphonic route have leaned heavily into the backing of the orchestra, which Ihsahn doesn’t do.  He instead forced them into his mold, made the strings fit the specific role he had for them, and still made his own guitars sing and dance in partnership with their newfound friends, rather than in competition, or worse, subservience to them.  (Parenthetically, it strikes that listening to the second version of this record, the strictly orchestral one, may be a sparse experience.  But that’s neither here nor there.)

“Ihsahn” is not always an easy listen – those without the ear for more extreme forms of metal may still find some of the constructions difficult - but even at its low moments the album is always at least academically interesting.  About three minutes into “Blood Trails to Love,” there’s a layered, almost jazz-y interlude that sounds out of place, but not in a bad way; it’s just a permutation of the two forces coming together in a unique way, leading to an unexpected, and thereby disjointed portion of the record.

There are, on the back end of the record, a couple of cuts that wander too long and get lost in the woods, so to speak.  Perhaps the temptation of working with all these elements was too overwhelming not to try and compose a singular opus, and there is some nobility in the attempt.  It’s not that these songs are bad, they’re just not interesting in the face of the far more novel fusions in the first half of the record.

Full marks to Ihsahn for pulling this monumental task together.  When his eponymous album sticks to task and keeps the durations down, he’s written as intriguing and compelling an album as any in the last few years.  Inconsistency is the worst criticism one can level at the record, and there are far worse sins.  Certainly the great moments, and even the merely good ones, are worth the time and examination.  Ihsahn, to this point, refuses to overstay his welcome.

Singles Roundup: Dragonforce, Cold Years, & Whom Gods Destroy

The release of interesting singles has been pretty slow, so let's deal with the few we do have:

Dragonforce - Wildest Dreams

Metal covers of pop songs are often fun, but sometimes they reveal just how lame metal can be. This is a perfect example of that phenomenon. "Wildest Dreams" is a wonderful song, and is easily Taylor Swift's most sensual track. Listening to the original, her vocal is sultry, and the sense of lust and longing palpitates through the recording. You could easily describe it as 'hungry', and it would be a fitting term.

Dragonforce took all of that... and turned it into absolute garbage. Not only do they speed through it so much that the hook get squashed into nothing, it's delivered with all the passion of breaking down the scientific fallacies in a random episode of Star Trek. Mark Hudson's vocals are devoid of anything resembling a personality, turning this 'wildest dreams' into something so boring it sounds like a rote story you tell your therapist to keep them from asking about what you're really thinking.

Look, my criticism isn't about them daring to besmirch Taylor Swift, it's that they're covering a song they clearly don't understand in the slightest. I've heard fun metal covers of Adele songs, and even Taylor's "Blank Space". There is absolutely a path to do this, and it's amazing to me that Dragonforce has decided to show the world that they will invest the time and energy arranging and recording a song they actively drag down and make worse.

For all the talk metal fans like to partake in about how great the musicians are, and how terrible pop artists are (Let's be honest; Taylor has gotten a lot of flack over the years for not being an 'elite' vocalist), Dragonforce is taking a massive shit on their own case. Sure, they might pick the riff faster than anyone who has played on a Taylor Swift record could, but they play with absolutely zero feel, zero heart, and with zero concern for what the song actually requires. And then there's Hudson, who is in every way over than volume an inferior singer to Taylor Swift. She was able to breathe life into a simple song, giving it depth with the emotion of her performance. Hudson sounds no different than if he was singing about Pokemon. Utter fail.

So if you want to know everything not to do when covering a song, this is a perfect example of it. If you can't play it or sing it better than the original, you're only going to make yourself look foolish. Not all attention is good attention. Learn that lesson.

Cold Years - Roll With It

One of the biggest surprises of 2022 was discovering Cold Years, who came from nowhere to nearly win Album Of The Year. Needless to say, after loving "Goodbye To Misery" that much, their new record is one of the more anticipated releases of the year. The first single from that record is here, and it offers up something to think about.

Spanish Love Songs segued from a pitch-black album to the rosier "No Joy" last year, and I feel like Cold Years is doing something similar. The darker undertone of "Goodbye To Misery" is replaced with a bit more bounce, and a bit of shimmering guitar in the background of the mix. With a vocal that's also cleaner, it all adds up to a song that's more carefree and almost breezy. By the time Spring rolls around, perhaps it will be the perfect sound for the impending change of seasons. Listening to this song right now, I'm left a bit perplexed. The elements are here, and I certainly like the song, but I'm in a place at the moment where I'm not sure I like seeing the light starting to beat back the darkness.

We'll have to see how this goes.

Whom Gods Destroy - Over Again

Single number two from this project is deeply concerning. As feared, the lesson Bumblefoot and Derek Shirinian seem to have taken from Sons Of Apollo is that being even heavier is the best path forward. That is clearly not true, both because the fans of their generation are not gravitating towards bands of that style anyway, but also because these guys aren't all that good at it. Sure, they can tune down the guitars and beat out some sludgy riffs, but for what purpose? Despite being 'virtuoso' players, they lack the requisite songwriting skills to make use of those talents.

This song is heavy for the sake of being heavy, with Dino barking through the verse before the 'chorus' is him straining his voice to bend the nothingness of the composition into a melody. He sounds uncomfortable pushing his voice to overcome the tepid song he's been given, and the rest of the band isn't doing anything to support him. It's a song that screams at us to be impressed by their talent, no matter what that talent is doing. Bumblefoot is also a part of Art Of Anarchy, and they just put out a record with a lot of very similar guitar playing, but the difference in how the music comes across when you have a singer who doesn't sound like he's passing a kidney stone is immense.

Album Review: Amaranthe - The Catalyst

Just a few weeks ago, I talked about the new Metalite album by mentioning how that band is intertwined in my mind with Amaranthe, and here we find ourselves with new Amaranthe music as well. I don't know whether this is happenstance, coincidence, or a plan to create a bubble both can ride to higher highs, but what I find is that having the two bands releasing music so close together creates a mental comparison I can't avoid. It doesn't happen all the time, but it certainly does happen occasionally that a pair of records will come out in short order, and one of them is diminished for no reason other than being the lesser of the two. It becomes a case of grading on a curve, which isn't always fair.

Since I started listening to both bands, Amaranthe has been the one setting the curve. They are the elite of hyper-pop metal, but they also show the limits of the genre. While they consistently produce records that are filled with sticky melodies and huge hooks, there's something about the impersonal nature of all of it that leaves me feeling disconnected from their music. As good as it is, I don't find myself going back to Amaranthe very much between new releases.

That's a bit of a mystery to me, to be honest. Elize Ryd is a fantastic singer, the band hits all the right marks, and they write exactly the kind of catchy melodies I always say I'm seeking out. Amaranthe should be one of my favorite modern bands if that's all true, which it is, and yet the perfection of it all becomes a bit boring. The band is clinically tight, the production is spotless, and I suppose that leaves everything sounding a bit too clean and polished for what metal is supposed to be. There's a lack of human connection to be made with music that sounds too good. Being too good for your own good... ironic, I know.

Maybe it shouldn't be a surprise my favorite song on the record is "Stay A Little While", the semi-Broadway number that slows things down just enough for the clean vocals to shine, and for even the guitar solo to carry more emotion. It's the only time on the record where it feels like the band reaching out to us, and I love it. The heavier, faster pop numbers are great for their purpose, but it's the ballad that draws me in.

Let me stop sounding so down, since that isn't the case. Amaranthe once again delivers song after song with a blend of power and hook few bands can even approach, let alone match. In this style, they continue to reign supreme. No offense to Metalite, but hearing the two records in close succession reaffirms to me just how high Amaranthe has raised the bar. You can throw a dart anywhere at this track listing and hit a... hit.

The toughest thing would be to compare this to their previous albums, because there is practically no difference between them. If you already love Amaranthe, this record will deliver everything you expect. If you're on the fence, I'm not sure this one will push you off in either direction. Amaranthe is who they are, and they're exceptionally good at it.

The oddest thing I can say about them is that the are the antithesis of a mood band. Certain music is perfect for when you're in a particular mood. Amaranthe is perfect for when you're in no mood at all. Does that make them the refined white sugar of the candy-coated pop metal world? I don't know, but Amaranthe has not yet failed to make me smile while I'm listening to them.

Album Review: Illumishade - Another Side Of You

There are only so many bands that come along as you get older that give you the feeling they could be something a cut above what else is out there in the scene. I had that feeling with Illumishade, as the first batch of music they put out was a fascinating blend of modern metal, hints of folk, and haunting vocals. They were already laser-focused on songwriting, and there was something special about some of the songs on their debut record. Unfortunately, that was marred a bit by the fact the album was incredibly short, and padded out with a few segues and interludes. It felt like it should have been a killer EP, rather than a diluted album, which gave me a bit of pause in coronating them as the next big thing in melodic metal.

This sophomore effort delivers even more of what makes Illumishade so great. The first full song "Elegy" sets the stage with the heavy rhythmic guitars giving way to Fabienne's siren voice, building to a soaring chorus that sounds rather joyous. They throw a spanner in the works as the second half of the song slows to a sludgy crawl, only to rise once again in the beautiful hook. Putting that right at the start of the album shows confidence, and tells us the band is not afraid to try a few new things along the way.

That is certainly true on "Enemy", where the guitars leading into the chorus fall into a glitchy tone that sounds out of rhythm with the rest of the band, the sort of thing that is probably progressive when broken down with time signature math and whatnot, but sounds like momentum running into quicksand to my ears. The song recovers, but the stumble does keep it from reaching top speed.

It can be hard to weave a melody atop a mathematical musical bed, and there are a few occasions when Fabienne and the music don't meld together into perfect harmony. Or perhaps they're trying too hard for that effect, because the feeling I get listening to the record is also one that the band is holding back, and I'm not entirely sure what. Something about these songs just doesn't have the same sensation of getting swept up in their melodic sound that their debut record did. I can still listen to "Rise" and feel a tingle when Fabienne breaks into that chorus.

That's what I wanted to hear more of, and I'm still wanting. These are good songs, and it's a good record, but there's a 'spark' I'm missing out on. It could be as simple as the band's own stated intention of being a bit more 'modern' than before. I'm not known for being interested or invested in rhythmic assaults, so there is less beauty in the music to compliment Fabienne. What worked so well before was the sweeping atmosphere that buoyed her lilting vocals. She's doing all the heavy lifting this time, and the breeze is too much background noise.

So what I can say about Illumishade is that they are still an immensely talented band, and they haven't lost their way. They have merely taken a road with scenery I'm not as interested in seeing. "Another Side Of You" is another side of them, and while it's nice to hear them spreading their wings, some of us will always like the first impression the best. I have to be honest and say that's what is happening here. I like this record, but I loved the songs on their debut. The difference is degrees, but it only takes the right one to change phase.

Happy F'n Valentine's Day

There's much that can be said about Valentine's Day, but I don't want to get into the societal expectations of what many consider to be an invented holiday. I want to look at my own feelings regarding the day and what it means, and what impact my musical upbringing may have had on that.

I've mentioned countless times how my first (and still biggest) musical hero was Jim Steinman. As I have gotten older, I have taken note of personality traits I can trace back to his music, but I can't say whether they were created by the music, or merely amplified. As this holiday rolls around, my thoughts turn to the very idea of love songs, and what they teach those of us who have learned everything we know through the experiences of others. I suppose that leaves me rather open to being given the wrong impression.

It all started with the word 'that'. When it was used by Meat Loaf, it became a mystery about love which felt like even Hercule Poirot could never solve. Love was presented to us as an epic melodrama, where you weren't doing it right unless you were willing to run into the fire of Hell itself. But it was more than that, as the puns also made clear passion and pleasure were just as important. When Steinman wrote that "some days it never comes, and these are the days that never end," he was saying getting your rocks off was just as important as putting one on her finger.

Likewise, when "Paradise On The Dashboard Light" reaches its climax (I know, it's a lot of cum jokes), love is treated as the secret password to get into the sex club he really wants to join. When the character realizes what he's done, he would rather have time itself end than have to wrestle with what love really means. Meat's 'faded Levi's bursting apart' and how the 'surf's up, and so am I' are more evidence that love and sex were so intertwined by Steinman, I'm not sure he ever understood the difference.

I bring that up because it is the music I was listening to in my youngest days, and those were the messages I was absorbing without knowing what any of it meant. How much of it seeped into my subconscious and twisted the way I think about this issues?

I've had the same worry about Weezer's "Pinkerton", and I've written about that subject before. The good news on that front is that I know exactly what toxic attitudes that record would have put in my head, and I can catch myself when thoughts of that kind begin bubbling up. I am far from perfect, but I'm aware enough to catch myself and be a better person than that.

When it comes to love, I am not. I can't break free from the thought that yes, 'loving [me]'s a dirty job', only this time no one's gotta do it. See, most love songs set unreal expectations in the form of asking too much from us in the fairy-tale sense. They paint pictures of lovers moving heaven and earth for their paramour, signing over their souls in acts of devotion. There's something rather noble about wanting to be that much in love, about wanting to perform superhuman acts to make that special someone happier than they ever imagined possible.

The music I was listening to painted a different picture, one that showed love as a burden we carry to get what we really want. It's a cynical way of looking at things, but I am a cynic. Was I always, or did the music point me there? I have no idea, and trying to untangle that knot is more than I'm ready for.

The point of all of this is to say that while yes, I hate Valentine's Day for reminding me of all the things I don't have, there's also a part of me that hates the day for feeling like I don't even understand what those things are anyway. No matter how many love songs have been heard in the ensuing years, and even how many I tried to write myself, I can't escape the initial programming that set me up for failure. When the music told me love was an unintended consequence, the burn scar from the fires of lust, I never had a chance.

So as I'm thinking about this, Jim Steinman's music might still be my north star, but I realize now the compass was broken long ago.

Happy f'n Valentine's Day, indeed.

The Top Ten Blues Traveler Songs

Often, we mark time with music, and use albums as the chapter headings for segments of our lives. "Four" was the first CD I ever owned (my only previous musical attachment was on cassette), and in the thirty years since then, Blues Traveler has always been a voice in the back of my head when I think about both myself and music. Recently, I have found myself on a bit of a binge once again, so I figured it was time to boil down all these years into a list of my absolute favorite Blues Traveler Songs.

In chronological-ish order:

But Anyway (from Blues Traveler)

No matter how many years pass by, I've never found myself really getting into the first record. Something about the jam and funk imbued within it doesn't quite mesh with my personality. The exception to that is this song, which I think hit me originally because of the rapid-fire delivery sounding akin to another song on this list I already loved. The lyrics about toilet seats and eye cancer are so bizarre I find them charming, and this song was a zygote (see what I did there?) of ideas that would come to term later on.

Optimistic Thought (from Travelers & Thieves)

I seem rather enamored with these wordy songs, which I have been told shows up in my own writing. This one bounces along as the words form an almost endless path of cobblestones for us to travel, and I love the idea of disgracing life being considered an optimistic thought. This one gives me the feeling of a renaissance fair, and though I would never go to one, this at least makes it feel welcoming.

Sweet Pain (from Travelers & Thieves)

I've been playing this song on repeat. Maybe it's because I'm a wordsmith who hides in the shadows, but the story of Cyrano being used to explain the frustration of being unable to express yourself openly is something that resonates with me. It's a slyly deep lyric, married to the sweet jangle of twelve-string guitar, and an absolute bellowing roar come the bridge. It's something I can't replicate for myself.

Conquer Me (from Save His Soul)

There are definite eras in the discography, and this song was the turning point. The way a blues riff became a rock motif, the focus of the writing, and the sticky melody, all point toward what "Four" would soon become. The tale of this mountain climber not only reached a high point on its record, but showed from the summit there were new lands soon to explore.

Run Around (from Four)

The success of this song was a surprise, and became a North Star that grew dimmer as the universe's expansion drifted it further away. Maybe a semi-cynical story song with a harmonica solo never should have become popular, but indeed it did, and something about it just sounds like my youth. All you need are four chords and an idea, which this song shows with aplomb.

Hook (from Four)

The bitter cynicism of this song rings a bit different today, given how the next thirty years played out. It became a bit prophetic, but I can still listen to this and feel like I did the first time I 'got it'. John Popper was absolutely right that the hook is all that matters, but he also throws in his best harmonica solo (one of my favorite solos of any kind, to be fair), and that rapid-fire bridge that has been humiliating karaoke singers ever since. The truth never goes out of style.

Canadian Rose (from Straight On Til Morning)

This song is the saccharine chaser to the bitter taste of the previous two entries. They are built from the same elements, but with the spotlight pointed in opposite directions. The best Blues Traveler pop songs are the ones that were never intended to be pop songs, and this is a perfect example of that.

Pretty Angry (from Bridge)

When I think about songs that use grief to fuel art, this comes to mind first and foremost. As this one builds and builds, the loss is palpable, and the instinct to wish things unfolded differently is beyond natural. Coming to the realization, after all the emotion and the raging, that it's a waste of time not to move forward is both crushing and hopeful. Maybe things were never the same again, but something good came out of the pain.

After What (from Bastardos!)

There's no grand reason why I love this song so much. It just happens to be a great tune with a great melody that stands out to me as the best song of the back half of Blues Traveler's career. I don't want to make it sound like they fell off dramatically, so perhaps that gives this one the nod.

Christmas (from A Very Special Christmas)

This is an interesting choice, because I tend to say I hate Christmas music. This has been my favorite Christmas song for a long, long time, for that exact reason. The lyric that starts, "Comes a time for Christmas and I really have to ask, if this is feeling merry how much longer must it last?" is something I quote every year. Getting me to embrace holiday music is such a tall task this one more than earns a spot on the list. It's one of the few songs that sounds honest about what the holidays mean to some of us.

Quick Reviews: Hannah Wicklund, Magnum, & Any Given Day

Let's do a threesome! Wait a second..... that didn't come out right.

Hannah Wicklund - The Prize

Last year brought us a Graveyard album that dove into the slow and dark side, and this album almost feels like the counterbalance to that one. Hannah's sound is that of the blues, filtered through saturated guitars, but with a layer of bright melody adding depth to that cerulean shade. Hannah's voice is a treat, with a tone that alternates between grit and bellow. She is the anchor for these songs, giving them both the pain and beauty of life, while the guitars bristle with a hint of fuzz. They create a wash of sound she can cut through, like the mint on a pillow that melts into the softness of a cushy bed.

All that would be nice, but for naught, if the songs didn't deliver. That is where Hannah brings in the comparison to Graveyard, as she is in that rare category of bluesy, vintage style artists who can still deliver songs with strong hooks and melodies that beg to be revisited. Whether it's the simplicity of the title track, or the soul-infused thunder of the closing "Sun To Sun", these are songs that are polished to reflect the dirt of the production. It's a perfect blend, and an album that punches well above its weight.

Magnum - Here Comes The Rain

This album is a difficult one to talk about. I was prepared to let it be, as I've talked enough about Magnum over the years, but it's hard to ignore this after the news of Tony Clarkin's passing. It shouldn't come as a shock when someone who has been in the business for roughly fifty years passes on, but to have it come right as their latest album was about to be released felt like cruel timing. That makes this the last Magnum album (or at least it had better be), and it puts someone like me in a tough spot.

Why? Because this Magnum album is not one of the greats. They have been vacillating between really good and disappointing albums for a while, perhaps because of the mechanical regularity at which they were putting them out. Their previous album righted the ship, and was the best record in a long time. This one tried to rock a bit harder, and it simply didn't have the grandeur and the sweeping melodies I want from the band. Yes, I feel a bit sheepish criticizing an album during the band's mourning period, but honesty doesn't become any less honest. I'm just a bit sad my last memory of Magnum is going to be a disappointment, rather than the triumph we had the last time 'round.

Any Given Day - Limitless

When I first heard Any Given Day, I was amazed at how they were able to use a metalcore base to out-Tremonti the solo project from Mark Tremonti. The vocal tone made the comparison impossible for me to ignore, but Any Given Day was heavier when heavy, and hookier when hooky. Their last album was the best bit of metalcore since the classic Killswitch Engage days. This new one, then, has a lot to live up to. I can't say it does.

The pieces are still in place. The heavy parts are still crushing, and there are plenty of radio-friendly choruses for us to love. So what's wrong? It starts with the single "H.A.T.E.", which is rather cringe-worthy, but it seeps into the rest of the record. More than before, I'm hearing echoes of 'bro-ness' that are off-putting. This record sounds much more like a band posturing, puffing out their chest, and trying to whip out how tough and manly they are. That doesn't hold any appeal, and it drags down the good parts of the record for me. This one is a solid record, but it's one not good enough for me to look past the flaws.

Singles Roundup: Billy Joel, Kerry King, Thundermother, & Masterplan

While we wait for the first single from Taylor Swift's upcoming record, let's deal with these first:

Billy Joel - Turn The Lights Back On

I'm old enough to remember buying "River Of Dreams" on CASSETTE back in the day, so that's how long ago I started listening to Billy Joel, which I find funny, since I pretty much only listen to the hits (the 80s hits, to boot). So to have a new song after all this time is something rather fascinating, and rather hard to wrap my head around. I can't help but wonder why he's doing this now, what motivated him after all this time to write something again. Creativity is something hard to restart after it's been turned off, so this is one of the bigger surprises in a long time.

It's a song that reminds me of Elton John's late career. It's simple, piano-driven, and not at all trying to be 'current'. Billy is ok with sounding like himself, and sounding... mature. That's the right move, as him trying to capture "Uptown Girl" again would be a bad move. His voice sounds really good for his age, and it fits the song. The problem is that Billy has always made everything sound schmaltzier than it is, and with a song already leaning in that direction, it's bordering on being a bit too much. It's nice to hear, but I'm not sure any song can make us happy after three decades of waiting.

Kerry King - Idle Hands

Slayer is dead, and now Slayer lives. Look, all you need to know about this song is that it's Kerry's way of letting us all know he never wanted Slayer to end, and they only retired because Tom Araya got tired of doing it. This song is no different than any of the last couple of Slayer records, right down to recruiting a vocalist who is able to sound quite a bit like Tom when he screams. Those Slayer records weren't setting the world on fire, and an entire record with no detours provided by Jeff Hanneman is not something I'm looking forward to. I don't know if I'll actually listen to the record, but after hearing this song, I feel like I already have. That's not a good thing, right?

Thundermother - Speaking Of The Devil

The proof is now in, and Thundermother somehow was able to perform mitosis. They split, and we've gotten two bands of pretty much equal sound and quality. The Gems have the amazing vocals without the songs to support them, and Thundermother's new configuration does a good job of re-filling the roster, again without a great song to prop them up. This is actually a solid song, and better than their last record, but they've almost always been stuck in the AC/DC mold of riffs and wailing, without a lot of hook. This song is enjoyable enough, but I'm not finding it all that memorable. Their drama has stuck with me more than their music.

Masterplan - Rise Again

Was their a clamor for new Masterplan? I know their debut album got a bit of talk because of the 20th anniversary, but I hadn't heard the band's name in many years. It's been eleven years since their last album, and that's enough time for everyone to forget and move on. I did, and hearing them again feels like going back in time. What makes matters worse is that they're popping their head up after all this time, coinciding with the talk about their debut, and this is the latter lineup that doesn't have Jorn Lande. So... they're trying to remind us of the downward trajectory they took before taking their break? Interesting theory, and an uninteresting song. At some point, I might have to give up on covering metal, because this ultra-generic stuff isn't doing it for me. Back to the drawing board, guys.

Album Review: Ryujin - "Ryujin"

 

Power metal feels in so many ways like a dead genre.  Which is not to say that the genre bears no more fruit or lacks in popularity, but simply that the genre feels like it’s at the end of its evolutionary cycle.  All the riffs have been shredded, all the vocals have been operatic and grand, all the songs about fantasy and striving for some great and noble purpose have been written and celebrated around whatever grand campfire.

It follows then, that to make a true mark on the power metal genre in any form, the premise must be both totally unique and flawlessly well executed.  Powerwolf is the standard-bearer for this kind of revolution, but they’re hardly alone.

Exhibit A, Ryujin and their eponymous album, which intends to inject some life into the ‘samurai metal’ splinter genre that the band had previously championed under the name GYZE.  Part of this is the infusion of melodic death metal tenets woven into the fabric of the music.  Combining this with the inclusion of indigenous instruments and unique guitar tones accomplishes the goal of being totally unique against a staid landscape.  But is the execution on par?

Sometimes the answer is yes!  Four cuts in, the album shines brightly with “Raijin & Fujin,” as brisk and speedy and vital a power metal banger as has been written in years.  It boasts a six minute run-time, but never feels dry or dead-ended, moving between cinematic set pieces and fiery solos with easy aplomb.

The album isn’t just a technical demonstration, though – it varies the songwriting to such a degree that the listener is taken immediately from a song that would sound at home in the heart of DragonForce’s storied catalogue (but with way more shamisen,) to a melodramatic and ultra-corny but completely compelling power ballad in “The Rainbow Song.”  Every stereotype of cloud-parting-sunshine-metal-ballad that’s ever existed is wrapped up in this cut, and despite the obvious saccharine ridiculousness, the song is an instant singalong classic and brings an easy smile to all around.

Skipping down to the title track (and continuing the great metal tradition of synergy between band, album and song name – the song “Iron Maiden” on the album “Iron Maiden” by the band Iron Maiden…see also Black Sabbath,) and we see again an accomplished side of Ryujin, this one mixing in a completely clean guitar tone with some pentatonic-scale backgrounds and a real flavor for what we’ve come to think of Eastern-sounding music.  It is in these longer songs where Ryujin excels most, as they explore the space with confidence and yet still manage to keep the songs on the rails.

The issue though, is that there’s not enough of these songs to propel the album into greatness.  We’ve pretty much discussed the best moments the album has to offer, and what remains isn’t bad by any means, but never becomes something more than the baseline of a hundred different flavors of power metal (even if “Saigo No Hosi” seems like it might be a karaoke favorite.)

Ryujin’s new record could have been truly great if they’d pushed the envelope with Eastern influences on each cut, rather than selecting just a few to parse them in.  There’s great talent here, but too many cuts (“Dragon, Fly Free,” “Scream of the Dragon,” “Gekirin” to name a few,) never blossom into something we all haven’t heard before.  It’s a shame, because it causes the album to fade into the pastiche of the genre(s) around it, thus taking attention away from the select moments that truly soar.

My Favorite Songwriters

I may sound like the proverbial broken record, but there's a reason I keep saying "it's all about the songs". That's because it is. Without great songs, it doesn't matter how good someone's voice is, or how blistering their solos, because those are not the ways we (or at least it's true for me) consume music. Music is given to us in song form, and being able to translate talent and ideas into great songs is a skill many either never develop, or they don't put enough care and craft into.

I know exactly what it takes to write a great song, and what is mere window dressing distracting us from a mediocre starting point. Writing songs doesn't just challenge you, it teaches you about the music you listen to. I can focus on what is important, because I know from experience what those elements are. Songwriting is a form of magic, conjuring a diamond from the ether. The greats make it look simple, but having an artistic voice that resonates with listeners is a rare feat.

Today, I will tell you about which songwriters have those voices. These are the writers who, time and again, have written songs that have made an impact on me, and sharpened those edges when time threatened to soften and erode the creases we mistake for smiles.

Jim Steinman

If I'm ever forced to pick the one person whose music has meant the most to me, who has spoken to more more than any other, and whose influence I feel is the strongest, it would be Jim Steinman. It was "I'd Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)" which made me fall in love with music, and the two (at the time) "Bat Out Of Hell" records were everything to me for a long time. Now, it extends beyond that. I won't say everything he ever did was genius, but so many of his songs are what I think myself to be. I am melodramatic, I am sarcastic, I am self-deprecating, and so too are his songs. Jim's work has always been the overblown voice in your head narrating life as if it was a Broadway musical. Whether it's "Bat Out Of Hell", "Bad For Good", or even a forgotten gem like "Tonight Is What It Means To Be Young", Steinman's music is often the soundtrack to my soul.

Emerson Hart

For more than twenty years, I have maintained Tonic is my favorite band, and my faith in that has never wavered. Emerson's songs, both with Tonic, and on his solo album "Cigarettes & Gasoline", are the ones that propelled me to become a musician myself. I love the way Emerson builds rock songs from the simplest collection of notes, and how he manipulates the voicings of chord shapes one note at a time. There is a bluntness to his writing that can be taken as rudimentary, but it's an understanding of what does and doesn't need to be in a song. I love "Liar", even if the riff is just three notes. Like that, Emerson's songs are honest expressions that you don't need to gussy up an idea to make it seem more impressive than it is. Saying something plainly can often be the most powerful way. That's a lesson I often forget.

Elvis Costello

What is amazing about Elvis is his fearlessness when it comes to doing something new and different. His penchant for wordplay and sticky melodies in his early years are what I remain most drawn to, but "King Of America" is the record I may have learned more from than any other. Elvis is a songwriter who knew if you had a clever way to say something, it could cut through the tropes and conventions. Having a unique voice is just as important as knowing how to best use it. Whether you're telling a story or a truth, you need to spin a tale of interesting words well worth listening to. There are many stumbles along the way, but from "Alison", to "Oliver's Army", to "Man Out Of Time", to "Either Side Of The Same Town", Elvis kept pulling rabbits out of the hat long after we knew how the trick was done.

Tobias Sammet

There are few songwriters in the metal world who not only understand that a catchy melody is a good thing, but who can consistently write them. No one does it better, or more often, than Tobi. My journey into metal started when I heard "The Headless Game", and it continued as Edguy and Avantasia grew and developed. I loved the epicness of "The Pharaoh", the stinging heavy pop of "Dying For An Angel", and even some of the dark horse picks like the absolutely absurd "The Pride Of Creation". No one else has better illustrated that my loves of heavy guitars and hooky melodies can coexist.

John Popper

I was eleven when Blues Traveler's "Four" came out, and I didn't understand the underlying anger of the record. I also didn't understand why 'shiv-shank a yuppy' was a line on the next record. But that's actually the beauty of John Popper's writing. Whether it's an allusion to Cyrano in "Sweet Pain", or a nursery rhyme in "Let Her Or Let Go", he always throws a hundred words against the wall to see which stick. The sheer verbosity of his lyrics and melodies inspired me, and can still amaze me. Serpentine windings can lose their focus, but so many Blues Traveler songs manage to be frenetic while still being sticky tunes.

Jakob Dylan

You'll notice a theme here, where words are quite important to me. That is never more true than talking about Jakob Dylan, whose poetry on The Wallflowers' "Breach" showed me a new window into songwriting. We only need to look at "I've Been Delivered" to find all the inspiration we'll ever need. The abstract poetry is a marvel, and when it culminated in the line, "I can't fix something this complex any more than I can build a rose", I was sold. Music is wonderful, but it is incomplete without the right words to go along with it, and it is Dylan's poetry that most mirrors my own. From "One Headlight", to "Some Flowers Bloom Dead", to "From The Bottom Of My Heart", his songs have said more than words can say.

Jim Adkins

The most recent addition to this list, what Jim Adkin's songs do better than anyone else's is echo with emotional resonance. There is something to his voice, and the way it bends around simple pleas, that no one else quite matches. He was never better than when writing Jimmy Eat World's "Futures", an album that aches with both nostalgia for the past, and the pain we want to go back and feel again. But it's more than just one record, no matter how much I love it. The way "Dizzy" reminds us that having the world revolve around us would actually leave us reeling is fascinating, and so many of Jimmy Eat World's other songs know how to wring emotions out of even the steeliest of people. I'm rather awed by it.

VK Lynne's Bouquet Of "Plastic Roses"

I wrote a line in a song about a muse once that talked about how the greatest feat of strength I could ever manage would be to bend her lips into a smile. It takes work and effort to pull the corners of your mouth up into a display of happiness, while the gravity of life fights to keep you feeling flat. The energy it takes to maintain a smile is why joy dissolves as quickly as a rainbow after a storm, while pain lingers on the ground in puddles that leave a trail of footprints for miles.

These feelings become even more complicated when family becomes involved, which I ascribe to our simplistic conventions of thought. We (as a society) tell ourselves that family is everything, and that we must love our families because they are the people closest to us. But does unconditional love for someone simply because they share more of our genes make any more sense than rooting for a sports team just because they were the closest one to the town where you grew up?

"Plastic Roses" dives into these issues, and about how some of the 'gifts' we are given by our upbringing are destined to be with us forever, much like a plastic ornament that won't decompose until long after we are gone. We can shove them in a closet, or give them away, but in the back of our mind we know they are still out there waiting for us to come back upon that happenstance.

Looking back on life explains the fitting motif of this song, whose bits of lead guitar borrow a feeling from "Every Rose Has Its Thorn", or at least that entire era of rock. They were around at the right time, after all. The song's verses are chapters of the story, each showing a new scene in which pain is transferred from one person to another, as if Isaac Newton actually discovered the true scientific reality is that pain is energy, and as such can never be destroyed. We pass it on to others to alleviate our own suffering, because we aren't always strong or wise enough to suffer for those we are supposed to love.

That is made clear in the opening scene, set at a wedding, where we are reminded that love really is a choice. Oh, it might feel inevitable, or a matter of fate, but it's something we decide to embrace every day. When you think about it, that actually makes it more special. If love was part of some divine plan, all we would be doing is following a path set out for us, riding the moving sidewalk with all the purpose and direction that entails. But if we have to choose to love, and every day we make that same decision, it's a constant reaffirmation that out of the myriad possibilities for how the universe can unfold, this is the one we want to explore.

Looking at things from that perspective makes family dynamics even sadder when they fall apart. I have family I am more or less dead to, and in their absence I have often thought about whether or not I'm supposed to feel bad about how things have turned out. In the end, I came to the realization that any kind of relationship is reciprocal. When someone doesn't show you love, no, you shouldn't feel bad about building a life that can support itself without them.

This is where developing as a blues singer is put to startling effect. VK's voice shifts from resignation to anger, from crooning to belting, all the while finding ways to pierce our armor. The sad stories seep in around the unsealed edges, while the fire inside is able to burn straight through the metal plate that protects our heart. The lead guitar weeps, but the rhythm builds into a thunder of pent up emotions, a powerful storm striking from above.

It's rare for a song to give us so much to think about, so many questions we can ask ourselves. That's one of the things that separates good songs from great ones.

So if "Plastic Roses" has VK Lynne dipping a bit into the sound of glam, it's because she's making herself up to show that the pain of the past might always be there, but in time we can paint over it so others will never see, and perhaps the memory can occasionally be forgotten when we look in the mirror. Those artificial reminders will never die, but they can be redefined.

Just so long as we don't pass them off as a Valentine's Day gift, but that's a story for another day.

 "Plastic Roses" releases on February 15th. Pre-save it here!