Album Review: Edward O'Connell - Feel Some Love

Last year, when I finally picked up a copy of Elvis Costello's "This Year's Model", I was surprised to see it was a newly remixed version of the record. It didn't sound exactly like I remembered, but there was something even more glaring about hearing it in this new context; it sounded.... weak? As one of the albums that set off a whole era of new-wave power-pop, hearing this cleaner version revealed just how little power the songs had when they were recorded. The limitations of the time gave us something we can't quite recreate now, even when we have more skill and talent available to us. It's just something interesting to think about.

I say this because Edward O'Connell's two albums have been akin to a continuation of that era of Elvis' career. Both records featured lovely power-pop with a similar tone of voice, and more than a little bit of sarcasm in the lyrics. There's something lush and soothing about the sound of them, something even Elvis himself was rarely able to achieve. So what does the third album bring us?

Starting off with "Golden Light", the album feels like an old friend coming back into your life. There's something soft and warm about this music, where it lopes along just enough to get your toe tapping, while the vocal harmonies echo the voice in your own head trying to sing along. Maybe it isn't 'cool' in whatever trend we're currently in, but it's the sound of a good time, which is rather timeless.

The layers of acoustic guitars and pianos give depth to the production, while the country-ish electric guitars alternate between extra texture and lyrical soloing. In that regard, there's an echo of The Jayhawks around the "Hollywood Town Hall" era, which is another of those sounds I've seldom heard replicated, let alone done well. It's nearly perfect on "I've Got A Million Of 'Em", where the weeping guitars nail the tone of the song, which also subverts expectations. The title implied to me a sarcastic kiss-off, having a million punch-lines, but it took things in the opposite direction instead. A little surprise is always a good thing.

The story of "Florida Man" dips into the age-old question about what motivates people to do stupid things, as exemplified by the meme. The answers are usually fairly simple, at least when sober, and get summed up by the line, "Was he distracted by love, or the tattoo on her birthday suit?" It also sort of ties into the theme of "All My Sins", where it's our faults and flaws that make us who we are, and things would be far too boring if we were always prim, proper, and well-behaved. We need some excitement, and someone else to laugh at.

All along, the album is a relaxing, feel-good experience. It's fifteen songs of charm, where you get sucked into the mood and tone. It's a syrupy record where the consistency is like having every bite of the waffle properly smothered, letting the sugar coat your palate. And then, when your senses might be a bit overloaded, it gives you a tart finish. In this case, that comes in the form of "MFC", which I won't spoil for you. Let's just say the acronym was exactly what I thought it would be after the first line of the song hit my ears. Certainly an unexpected way to cap things off.

I haven't listened to a lot of power-pop lately, because a lot of it doesn't sound like it understands at least one half of that term. Perhaps this record is a bit soft as well, but when it has so much effortless melody to it, that doesn't matter. Verses that could be choruses, choruses that up things even more, and a bit of whimsy to top it all off. This is the most laid-back of the three albums, but it still delivers. It's the sound of a wry smile.

Album Review: The Spider Accomplice - The Venomous Montage

The montage. A staple of 80s movies, what better way was there to condense time into a singular moment that told a lifetime's worth of story as fast as the frames of film could pass through the camera? The montage was an admission there is more to us and our stories than we can ever tell on our own. The details of life are what make us who we are, but they are too much for any other person to bear the full weight of. We abridge our stories so we can make ourselves known, always keenly aware that information will expand as soon as it hits the vibrating energy of our minds. Our stories are, in essence, like those old sponge toys that grew when you sprayed them with the garden hose.

The Spider Accomplice embrace the power of the montage for their first full-length album, as it does exactly what is promised (and what I had secretly thought possible - though without any foreknowledge); this collection of songs condenses the last few years of the band's whirling creativity into a single document of the past, present, and future, tied together.

Each song on this album takes us in a different direction, to a different point on the orbit we take around each other. Sometimes, we return to familiar territory, while at other times we find ourselves looking into the cosmos for the specks of star dust that will complete us.

In the opening "Breathing Daydreams", VK sings "there's no looking back anymore." The album starts with the end of the montage, where the band, glistening with the sweat of their heroic training, stands triumphant atop the stairs, their outline drawn in black against the golden glow of the sun. But how did they get there?

That is answered with the rest of the album, where we travel through their history to visit important moments, seeing how they echo through time. The album uses its scope to revisit several of the singles released in the time since the "Los Angeles" trilogy ended. "Crawl", "Keep", and "Clinging To Your Skin" appear again, showing the genesis of the band's current skin. "The Dichotomy" was, metaphorically, VK and Arno shedding their initial skin for something far brighter and more dazzling. These songs that came later were the pigment darkening, spotting that exterior with lines and brush strokes seemingly drawn by God herself.

"Crawl" remains one of the most remarkable examples of the modern power ballad, blending pounding drums and VK's immense vocal power into a force that can indeed scream across the landscape of nature as she does in the similarly remarkable video. That song, more than even the others, is where VK and Arno began to hit so hard the chain holding the heavy bag could no longer hold up against their power.

"Fight" is the natural follow-up to that idea, where our heroes are feeling invincible, and are ready to take on all comers. It's a spunky, cocky little song where VK belts and Arno shreds, showing off while the competition catches their breath off to the side. The camera pans over and sees narrow eyes glaring with jealousy as the hierarchy is revealed.

That is when we travel all the way back to the beginning, to see just how far our heroes have come. A new version of "Butterflies In A Beehive" is that fulcrum, taking a familiar favorite and adding in the sounds and textures the band has developed in the years since we first heard it. Arno's guitars have more texture, and crunch with a heavier tone that sets the strings as the subtle depth giving us a swell we don't always notice until we can feel it reverberating in our chests. Great songs are great songs, and seeing how this one has emerged from its chrysalis to spread its wings as an immense and dramatic number tells us just how far we have traveled together, even as the journey has felt so short.

On "Kaleidoscope", VK sings that "the Queen is out for blood," and indeed she is. The song is as sprawling as the fractals that determine our vision, deconstructing composition in an act of chaos not unlike the mad cackle she unleashes when the song is ready to explode. Their confidence seeps through, as it has grown track by track. And what would any proper montage be without an 80s soundtrack? That's what "Fire The Sorrow" provides, with synths that echo from that formative decade. The only difference between this song and "Blinding Lights" is the number of streams each one is going to get.

"Maybe I've forgotten where I was, or maybe I've never really known," VK says to open "Shards Collect". Our montage ends with our heroes reflecting on the journey that has taken them to this point, understanding every scene in between is important for forging us into the people we are. While some of those shards continue to stab at us, the wounds never fully healing, we would not be the same people without them. Pain guides us as much as a moral compass can, and it is harder to ignore. We do not have to be defined by those moments, but they are a source of fuel. The question is whether we drag the charcoal across our skin to trace our scars, or whether we burn it to light our path to a better place.

A montage takes those questions and boils them down to a reel of highlights, skipping over the existential crises and stop-and-start failures that litter the highway as the tires try to dig into the cold asphalt. There is a beginning and an end, and often we forget what comes in the middle, even though it is the hero's journey that defines the very nature of the epic story. What "The Venomous Montage" does so well is remind us of that fact, spending forty minutes taking us through every step of the journey, so we understand exactly what it took to achieve glory. In movies, montages condense the story so we don't have to face the immensity of the struggle head-on. Here, the montage condenses the story so we can measure the distance traveled more easily.

We've come a long way, and this venomous stop tastes pretty sweet.

Album Review: Queensryche - Digital Noise Alliance

I love when a band's press releases can't even get their own story straight. You would think someone should be reading these things over to make sure they aren't completely contradictory, and yet sometimes we get a situation like the one this new Queensryche album provides. In fact, it's the only reason I'm bothering to write about the new record at all.

In the press release, they say, "Queensryche has always been a forward-thinking band." Though they have been accused of going off the rails several times, I'll grant them it's probably fairly true. Or at least it was, because the description that came along with this record also says the band sat in the studio and pulled out the very same amps they used back on "Empire" and "Rage For Order". Pulling out your old gear to get the sounds you used to use is the very definition of not being forward-thinking. So which is it?

One could easily argue this whole chapter of the band's history with Todd La Torre fronting them has actually been an exercise in looking backwards, trying to recapture the band's signature sound at the expense of the very forward-thinking mentality they say was the core of their identity. It was the right business move, and it has certainly pleased enough of their fans, but it does make them a very different entity than they were, even at the worst moments of their previous incarnation.

As has often been the case, I am rather underwhelmed by what I'm hearing. Not only is there not a hint of the 'progressive metal' tag they were often hit with, incorrectly I would argue, but the echoes of the past do them no favors. The guitars might be pulling in old sounds, but when "Behind The Walls" finds La Torre's voice distorted in such an obvious and artificial way, it draws comparison to the days when Geoff Tate was considered one of the best singers in all of rock. The performance would have been clearer back then, and better for it.

I also hate the underwater, echoing effect put on his voice in "Nocturnal Light". Look, his tone is often difficult for me to listen to as it is, but piling effects on top of it just makes it insufferable to the point I'm not going to bother trying to look past it. I don't know why singers like to hide their voices like that, but I wish it would stop. I want to hear them, not a bunch of plug-ins from Pro Tools.

But all of that is needless nit-picking, since the songs themselves don't do enough to make the album worth listening to. They will probably please Queensryche fans, because they hit the right tones from the past, but I don't hear enough good melodies to carry through an entire album. For both the good and bad, it sounds like a metal album from the mid 80s. That's not my scene.

For this particular approach, I would say go listen to the recent A-Z album instead. Similar pedigree, similar sound, but that album sounded much more like they enjoyed what they were doing.

Album Review: Borealis - Illusions

Off the top of my head, I can't think of many cases where a band exists that sounds so much like a more famous group, but I like them better than their fore-bearers. I'm sure there are a couple, but it's the sort of thing that doesn't happen very often, because even when we claim originality isn't all that important, the first to do something get to occupy a different space in our minds. It might not be important to the quality of the music, but it's easier to remember something the first time you encounter it.

Borealis has, ever since I first heard them, existed mainly in my mind as a band that sounds nearly identical to Evergrey. Given what I have written about that band over the years, you would think that wouldn't be a good thing. Perhaps it isn't, but the times I have listened to Borealis have been far better than almost all of my experiences with Evergrey. They build from the same colors, but the end result looks completely different.

The core of Borealis' sound is found in the vocals, with a deep tone similar to that of Tom Englund. The band also plays the same semi-progressive brand of metal, with guitar tones borrowing from the same basic amp settings. If you played both bands on shuffle, it wouldn't always be obvious which you are listening to.

The different between the two is, at least to my ears, the way they build melodies. Other than the brief (and usually hated) period where Evergrey tried to be more modern and streamlined, they have relied more on Englund's charisma than hooky melodies. That works for the people who absolutlely love his voice, but I am not one of them, so I have often felt their music come off rather cold and impersonal. That's odd, since his emotion is what everyone loves about him.

Borealis doesn't try to wallow as deeply in their own tears, and I think that's what makes their music work. Rather than being heavy in an emotional sense, their music has enough energy to it to support the heavy guitars without them sagging into a sad mess. Borealis' music is big and powerful, with bellowing vocals that are necessary for the scope of what they are doing.

The only downside to all of this is that this album continues the story from their previous album, so if you're trying to pay attention to what these songs are about, you need to be fully versed in a different album to get the whole message. I hate that sort of thing, both because I have severe doubts this story is interesting enough to stretch over nearly two hours of music, but because it also keeps people from jumping on board. I am a writer, so I love lyrics, but when an album tells me right off the bat I need to do homework to understand it, I'm inclined to say 'forget this', and move on to something else. It's like Coheed & Cambria, where I know they do some cool stuff I would enjoy, but there isn't a chance in hell I'm going to sit through eight albums of storyline just to know what in the world they're singing about.

If you liked Evergrey's album from earlier in the year, I would tell you to listen to this one, because I think it's far better. If you've never gotten the hype for Evergrey, I would still say this one is worth a shot, because perhaps you will hear in Borealis what everyone else seems to hear in Evergrey.

And yes, I know I shouldn't spend so much time talking about another band, but when they sound almost like clones, it's hard not to. At least in this case, Borealis comes out the winner, so it's not such a bad thing.

Singles Roundup: Skid Row, Avantasia, Ascendia, & Stryper

This week's collection of singles show that there isn't always a bright side to look forward to.

Skid Row - Time Bomb

Even when a band makes a good decision, it can still be a disappointment. This song is a great case in point. Erik is a great choice to be the band's newest new singer (I'll leave the drama alone). His voice is great, and I love his work on H.E.A.T.'s "Tearing Down The Walls", but this song is cringe-worthy. The heavy riff is pretty good, and Erik sounds really good through the verses. After an ok chorus, Erik goes into a line saying, "tick, tick, tick, tick, boom." Ugh. Not only does it sound stupid, but P.O.D. already did that twenty years ago. Behind the times, indeed. Hard pass.

Avantasia - The Inmost Light

Well, I'm definitely losing my enthusiasm for the upcoming album. This new song might be the least interesting of them all, being quite short, being too traditionally power metal, and being a showcase for Michael Kiske. Sure, I don't like his voice, but there isn't enough song around him to even care. The chorus comes and goes with almost no hint it was the chorus, and it once again shows me that Tobi has been far better at writing hard rock in the last fifteen years than power metal. My expectations have been appropriately lowered.

Ascendia - Parasite

Speaking of lowered expectations. I was quite quizzical when I heard Ascendia's comeback single, and I am similarly confused now. I know bands change and evolve, but it still sounds like such a hard shift from the first album to this. That might be ok, but the shift is to something far less interesting, and arguably not done as well either. The music has been streamlined, but this is another example of a band trying to write poppier songs, but failing to do so. What made them unique has been subsumed by a far more generic take, and I just don't find this nearly as appealing. They can't wring the same drama out of the mainstream that Light The Torch has, just as an example.

Stryper - Transgressor

Why do older rock musicians feel like they have to continually get heavier to prove they haven't lost anything? Stryper has been on that road for a while now, and it still feels weird coming from them. Michael Sweet's shrieking is painfully dated, and painful to listen to as well. "Painkiller" was thirty years ago, and people only thought it was cool then because they wanted to wash "Turbo Lover" out of their ears. Stryper doing the same thing doesn't have that same impact, especially when they are doing banshee screams about how you're going to wind up in Hell if you don't follow the Lord. I could write a lot about that, but I'm not going to bother, since this is only Stryper we're talking about. Michael Sweet freely admits he churns these things out, and I don't know if I can come up with anything better to say about the quality level here.

Album Review: The Wonder Years - The Hum Goes On Forever

I know there's no such thing as perfection, but there are albums with such glaring flaws, it's hard to understand why I like them despite the shortcomings. Very few albums are going to be song after song of nearly flawless beauty. I understand that, and a lot of my favorite records absolutely have low points I would change if I could. But those are usually one song on a record, not nearly half the track listing. When an album fits into that half-and-half range, I usually tend to dismiss them.

But every once in a while I find myself still listening, even when I know I would rather not sit through half of the thing. Can the pull of the great half of a record be enough to make up for that much dead weight?

That's what I've been asking myself about this new album from The Wonder Years. My attention was caught by one of the singles, and since I have been in a rather emo frame of mind this year, I gave the record a chance. From the very first time through, it was clear to me this was a record of halves. There are the up-tempo rockers where the emotion cascades through the melodies. Those tracks are fantastic. Then there are the slower, droning songs, where finding a melody is nearly impossible. Those tracks are a drag.

I've often wondered what it is about those sorts of songs that appeal to bands, where they feel such songs need to be included on their albums. All of us who play an instrument have hit upon an interesting riff and played it endlessly until we got it in our fingers. I've never confused that with writing a song, nor have I thought anyone would want to hear that same thing again and again and again, ad nauseum. But that's what songs like "Doors I Painted Shut" and "Songs About Death" are all about. They both come across as tone-setters, but they are stretched out into full songs, and as such ask for far too much of our attention. Combine those with the slow ballads, and five out of the dozen tracks could be cut without missing a thing.

When the band puts their power and energy into things, the results are amazing. "Wyatt's Song", "Oldest Daughter", "The Paris Of Nowhere", and "Lost In The Lights" are big, slightly dirty songs that use pop melody and emo vocals to establish a human connection between all of us. They remind us whatever we are feeling, there are others going through the same thing. Music can be that arm wrapped around our shoulder we most need.

Then there's the closing "You're The Reason I Don't Want The World To End", which builds a cathartic ending from the small moment of finding someone's glove in the pocket of your coat. When things seem their bleakest, it's the little details where we can find hope, and this song is a lovely reminder of that. It works wonderfully as a release of everything that builds up through the record, and it's the sort of thing emo can deliver that a lot of other genres simply can't. At least when it's done well.

Those good songs indeed do it well, so much so I've written this many words trying to explain how the bumps in the road have the jolts forgotten when the horizon is in sight as often as it is. This is one of those interesting albums I know I shouldn't be quite as fond of as I am, and yet, I have found myself playing it every day this week. That's hard to ignore.

Album Review: Destrage - "SO MUCH. too much."

It’s time to put my money where my mouth is.  Not so long ago as part of one of our long, rambling and occasionally poignant conversations, Chris and I, as we so often to, turned the lens to the faults that we perceive among the music editorial community.  Namely, we were analyzing the tendency of journalists to forgive all faults of favorite artists, and hand out high grades with what feels to us like specious examination.  I referred to it at the time, to turn the euphemism, as ‘playing for the name on the front of the jersey.’

Now, as if I haven’t already to this point, I’m going to commit a cardinal sin of journalism and make the story about me, at least for this next little bit.  (This, by the way, is a sin I seem to commit with increasing frequency.  Apologies for that.)

Destrage, hailing from Milan, Italy, is one of, if not straight up who I believe to be the best band working today.  Their combination of musical prowess and creativity and way-past-the-margins writing is unparalleled in the world of heavy music right now (Turisas could easily have held this title for longer if they’d bothered to make any new music in the last NINE YEARS.  I’m not bitter, I promise.)

And so we come to “SO MUCH. too much,” the latest album from the metal inventors.  The last two Destrage albums were both my selections for Album of the Year, and the third, “Are You Kidding Me? No.” was a hair’s breadth behind at number 2 (trailing only Red Eleven’s “Round II” by the thinnest of margins, and if you ask me on a given day, I might have them flipped.)  So in a year where there’s been a lot of albums I like, but few that I love, I was ready for Destrage to save the year and sweep everyone off the table, on this, their first record since parting ways with Metal Blade and moving to 3DOT Recordings.

And there’s a lot here to like.  There’s piles of stuff on “SO MUCH. too much.” that is laudable and praise-worthy.

And yet.

If I’m being honest, this album is not quite up to the part of their previous efforts.  Let’s take a walk through the bad stuff first, since I need that as background context for when we launch into the good stuff.

What Destrage has always excelled at, over and above everyone else in the business these days, is that no matter how far into madness the band ventures, and same as ever, there are deep forays into the musical abyss, there’s always been a rope tied around their waist that anchors them to digestible and accessible moments that fans can rally behind.  Normally this comes in the form of vaulted, majestic sing-along choruses with simple structures and gigantic hooks that are easy to sink into.

And I think that’s the piece that’s missing here, or more appropriately, the piece that’s missing with the band’s usual consistency.  Taking even the first single, “Everything Sucks and I Think I’m a Big Part of It,” wanders into a bunch of scattershot paths, but never circles back to collect the pieces and tie them together before jumping off the next cliff.  The otherwise sublime “Venice Has Sunk,” would have been an all-time classic if it had come back to Earth just a little.  Frustrating.

And yet, there are still plenty of reasons why this record stands out from the pack and is a worthy entry.  First and foremost, let’s highlight “Private Party,” dropped into the center of the album and featuring a guest appearance from confirmed crazy person Devin Townsend.  Destrage has at various times in their career (“Not Everything is Said” and “Before, After and All Around” come to mind, as well as “Rage, My Alibi,” if for content and not music,) colored their sound with something five percent akin to the best moment of Alice in Chains, and “Private Party” uses a similar vocal harmony to use that affect, but turned on its experimental metal ear.  The song is, in many ways, Destrage’s “Dance Macabre,” the song that fits the idiom and is infectious to listen to, but sits way out on the boundary.

We talked about “Venice Has Sunk” briefly, but let us take a second just to highlight the truly inspired musicianship and songcraft.  While the cut lacks the big chorus, the sheer talent of the band shows through in every moment.  “An Imposter” was a better KMFDM song than KMFDM wrote on their album this year, and starter “A Commercial Break That Lasts Forever,” reminds us all just how capable of Destrage can be when dropping the hammer.  The airy, melodic vocals juxtapose nicely against the violent backdrop to create a sound only Destrage has mastered.

And then, to cap off, we get a cover of the largely forgotten but accomplished Stone Temple Pilots cut “Vasoline,” and if the litmus test of a cover song is if a band can put their own spin on a classic, then Destrage succeeds here with flying colors.

Still, the album feels a little thin.  Once you get past “Private Party,” there’s “An Imposter,” which is good but not great, and the aforementioned cover, but the remaining songs on the back half of the record don’t reach or grasp with the customary strength we’ve come to expect from Destrage.

What we’re faced with here is an album that doesn’t quite slake the thirst for new Destrage material for those of us who were anticipating this record, but only because it falls a step below the impossibly high bar the band has set for themselves.  Relative to much of what else has come out this year, “SO MUCH. too much.” stands on a platform all its own.  But I have to be honest – is this a contender for the list of top albums to come out this year?  Sure.  But is it going to take home the crown?  Nope.

Being a Critic, And A Musician

In a sports context, we often hear people write off criticism by saying the people talking have never played the game, so their take is rather irrelevant. In some cases, this can indeed be true. There are absolutely nuances to a game that people who haven't played it will never know. For instance, how does the lay-person know if a football play was actually an RPO, as opposed to a shotgun run designed to look like it? Or if a throw was intended to be slightly behind the received, as opposed to being errant? We don't, and it would be nice if analysts could be more honest about what they do and don't know.

We don't hear the same thing in music as often, but it does come up from time to time. It usually doesn't take the form of claiming anyone who can't play a riff can't comment on whether or not one is interesting to listen to, but the more basic air of 'who are you to criticize?' definitely comes across.

Let's answer that question.

I am a critic, and I would argue it's by nature, although my particular academic training also pointed me in that direction. The combination of the two has imbued in me a sense of taste I won't call discerning, but will instead call narrow. I look for and note weaknesses, and I'm not as willing to spend my time praising things that don't live up to my standards.

I am also a musician, and that is where my standards derive from. I've been writing song for about twenty years now, and I'm at a place where I'm rather comfortable with my own abilities in that regard. I am no performer, but when it comes to sitting down with a guitar and a piece of paper, I am rather confident in what I can do. Saying that, when I am listening to new albums, and I can't help but think to myself that I write better songs, how am I supposed to talk in reverent terms about what I'm hearing?

This all comes down to taste, and I'm sure most people would disagree with my assessment of my own talents, which is fine. The point I'm making is that when I am critical of an album, whether it's because of a terrible lyric or a flat main hook, I am trying to speak from experience. I know what works for my ear, and I also know which roads taken by songwriters are easier than others.

To give an example; while it's easy to get impressed by a prog epic filled with flashy playing, there's another side to that story. Technically proficient players can easily spit out riffs and solos full of fast runs, but slowing down to deliver a melody a listener can remember is truly difficult. It's the difference between the solos in "Sweet Child O' Mine" and "Arpeggios From Hell". The same thing is true with singers, as often a vocalist with a powerful voice will write a melody where they are belting long notes. It's impressive technique, but is it as interesting a song as what Taylor Swift can do with far less power or range? I would say not. Talent often gets in the way of songwriting.

I'm not saying any of this to make myself look good. I know I am but a middle-of-the-road songwriter whose music is never going to be anything more than a source of pride for myself. The point is merely to say that if I am at that level, and the music being promoted to me is only at or below such talent, it's no wonder to me why I tend to be more critical than a lot of other people in this field.

You don't have to be a critic to be critical of music, but I have found there was definitely something that changed in the way I thought about music once I started making it for myself. Knowing some of the under-the-hood mechanics does make it harder to like as much of what I hear as I used to, but it also gives me a deeper appreciation for the people who can consistently create great music.

Take of this what you will. Maybe I'm still talking out of my ass most of the time. My perspective makes it hard to see.

Singles Roundup: Emerson Hart, Avatarium, Candlemass, & Nickelback

Emerson Hart - Everything's Broken

This one hurts a bit to write. I mentioned when Emerson released the first single from his upcoming EP that I've been less interested in each of his solo releases, as he and I seem to be diverging. This is the massive blow to the face that proves the point. I'm not sure I understand what to make of this song, which is almost entirely centered on a doomy riff and background vocals, which is unlike anything he's ever written. I get experimenting, but putting out a song that doesn't even sound like yourself is going to be a tough sell. I know it is for me, as this song is already fighting it out as perhaps my least favorite he's ever written. I'm at a loss.

Avatarium - Death, Where Is Your Sting?

I wasn't as fond of the first single Avatarium released for this record as I wanted to be, but this song turns things around. The band's doom roots are still there, but their affection for classic rock takes center stage, which is as it should be. They are at their best when they blend dark heaviness with a more traditional melodic sheen. It even has a bit of a folk feel to the melody when the chorus opens up, and we are once again greeted with the feeling of a midnight campfire. They are able to take the foreboding of doom, and give it a silver lining. That's the power of Avatarium at their best, and this is a fine example of it.

Candlemass - Scandanavian Gods

This makes for a nice juxtaposition, as Avatarium shares lineage with Candlemass, and the end results are wildly divergent at this point. I won't drive home the same point about them yet again, but this latest chapter of the band's history is making a strong case that they should have retired when they announced it. I know doom is repetitive, but I'm struggling to find more than a minute's worth of ideas in this song, and even those aren't good ones. The song drones on with the most boring chords, and no sort of hooky melody at all. Honestly, it sounds like doom being written by people who have done nothing but listen to doom all their lives, but had never tried writing a song before. Candlemass is supposed to be so much better than this.

Nickelbck - San Quentin

Nickelback have always been a bit meat-headed, and that's never more apparent than when they want to prove how much they actually rock. That's what this new song aims for, but I don't think it succeeds at all. First of all, Nickelback doesn't rock. They can be heavy, but it's the artificial kind where you can tell they're trying to jazz up a mediocre songs by turning the dials higher. The guitars sound fake, the gruff vocals sound fake, and the lyrics tell the story about being driven to commit acts of criminal destruction by rock and roll. I thought we did away with the psychological connection between songs and people being complete assholes long ago, but I suppose not. No one is going to be burning anything down because of the power of Nickelback, and it just sounds so ridiculous for these guys to be taking this approach. They were pretty good at writing pop songs with a hint of rock to them. They're not good at trying to rock so hard they put you in jail. Give me a fucking break.

Album Review: Michelle Branch - The Trouble With Fever

Sometimes, an album will teach you things about a subject you don't know all that much about. Other times, an album will leave you with more questions than anything, making you wonder if you have been in the dark all along. That's the way I feel after listening to Michelle Branch's newest record. It serves now a far different role, but it was written as an album of love songs to her husband. As Whitesnake once posed; Is this love?

I ask that, because I don't hear love in these songs. I don't even hear a sound that makes it sound like Branch is even warm to humanity, as a whole. The album is dripping in a hollow tone, dripping with an echo that feels cold, punctuated by synths that break through the noise like a crying child in the middle of the night. Ok, maybe it does take love to embrace that bit of life, but that's not the way it sounds listening to the album.

"All You Wanted", from her first album, is one of those songs that has hung around in my mind for twenty years. It make my list of my favorite songs ever, and I still pull out my guitar often and strum along to it. While I was never obsessed with "The Spirit Room" as an album (although I do need to go back and give it another chance - I think I was missing something back then), Michelle Branch has always been a nice memory of a specific time in music.

That's what makes this record so difficult to listen to. I know what she is capable of, because I've heard her pull it off so well, and these songs with this production seem to suck the life out of her. The booming aspect of her voice isn't used at all. Her sharp tone that made it sound like she was singing something that truly mattered to her feels absent as well. This record comes across rather dour, and without songs that invite you to listen back to them again. If this is love, it is fleeting, and it is insular. Whatever she is feeling in these songs, it doesn't resonate with me.

Maybe this is a lingering effect of getting involved with the indie-rock scene, where a lot of those people like doing weird things for the sake of being weird. Maybe these songs would sound better if the noise was cleaned up, and a bit more polish was put on the recordings. I don't think it would make much of a difference, but maybe it would be just enough.

As it stands, I'm left confused by Michelle Branch. Not only is this an album I didn't enjoy listening to, and not only is it an album that doesn't sound at all like what it's supposed to be, but it's also an album that leaves me questioning the very meaning and existence of love.

I guess that's something.