Album Review: Neal Morse - The Restoration: Joseph Pt II

Before the intermission, Neal Morse was busy revealing the first album of this two-act set. If you remember, I was less than impressed by said album, and probably wouldn't be listening to this one at all if I didn't receive my copy of it during the holiday doldrums when there is little other new music to consume. As I have said several times in recent years, Neal and I have drifted quite far apart. The last time I truly loved a record he was involved in was probably the two records he was a part of in 2014. Yes, it's been that long since I haven't been frustrated in some respect by his output.

This two album set is something I truly don't understand. For one thing, it sits in an uncomfortable place in Neal's catalog. There are moments where he is obviously channeling his prog side, but the majority of the album is his horribly bland idea of what constitutes rocking. Even for musical theater, this stuff is fairly lame. For another thing, as I mused about last time, I don't know what the point of re-telling the story of Joseph in musical form is. There's no one other than Neal's most die-hard fans who are ever going to choose to listen to this instead of the world-famous Broadway production of "Jospeph & The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat". This is a reboot of something that is still popular, which means it's unnecessary on every level.

I'm a fair person, and all of those concerns can get put aside if the songs are good enough. I can nit-pick issues with the Neal Morse albums I do love, but those things aren't important when the overall product is satisfying. These recent rock operas Neal has been inspired to write may mean a lot to him, but that doesn't come through on record. The stories are just re-tellings of The Bible, which is about as unoriginal as a story can get, and the music leans hard into dad-rock territory. There's nothing here that captures even a fraction of the territory "Sola Scriptura" was able to, despite being a double record with over two hours to find a few decent songs. I'll take Neal's questionable quotating about the Catholic church being a whore over the blandness of this every time.

It certainly doesn't help that with this being a concept album and a rock opera full of characters, I wasn't given lyrics or a rundown of who is supposed to be playing what part, so pretty much the entirety of the story is lost on this non-religious critic. I know that's on the label and not Neal, most likely, but it's not the first time an album with a story has asked me to transcribe the whole of the lyrics to figure out what the heck they're talking about. Nope. Not gonna happen.

Also not helping are some of Neal's production choices, like his penchant for throwing far too much echo and reverb on pretty much every vocal. On "All Hail", I think it's Eric Gilette who is singing, and his voice is buried in the mix with so many effects I can barely make out a single word he's singing. I was going to make a comparison, but I think it would be sacrilegious. "The Argument" takes a different approach, with a trademark overlapping vocal approach that obscured what each character is saying under the vocals of another. If you can't make out the f'n point, you're wasting my time, and that's my greatest pet peeve at the moment.

Let me ask a question. Why is there a 'reprise' of the overture less than halfway through this record? Are things running so hot we need a minute to cool out heels so we don't rock too hard, or has this been dragging on so long Neal knows we can't remember the main theme anymore? I know which way I'm leaning.

The question I really want to ask is why so many people who claim to be directly inspired by God wind up doing and making such lousy things. If God can do anything, why can't he find some better music to be represented by?

So yes, all of that is to say that this is yet another Neal Morse evangelical effort that has utterly failed to convert me to the cause. It was always a tall order, but I had been listening to his good records not long ago, and part of me was hoping we could go back to then. Nope. The only way that spending these two hours with Joseph sounds good is in comparison to spending the full four hours it takes to get through Neal's re-telling of "A Pilgrim's Progress".

I'm probably never doing either of them again.

Album Reivew: The Grandmaster - Black Sun

I often joke that hope is a 'four-letter word', which is the cynic in me trying to protect myself from saying something too sad, but like all jokes, there is also some truth in in. When it comes to the music scene, I have learned having hope in a new band is a fairly stupid thing to do, since this is no longer a world where you can trust in any sort of continuity. As hard as it is for people to make a living as musicians these days, the constant state of flux means every album from every band can almost be treated as its own universe.

The Grandmaster was the grand return of Edguy guitarist Jens Ludwig after that band basically got put to bed, and it grew into the one of these project records from Frontiers I've become most fond of. It's a wonderful bit of melodic metal, featuring great vocals, solid hooks, and Jens' trademark soloing. I very much would have been looking forward to a follow-up, but as seems to be the case with all of these groups, things got complicated.

For whatever reason, there was a change in vocalists, and it has completely killed this group for me. Nando was a roaring voice that had grit and melody, and anchored the songs perfectly. His replacement is Peer Johansson, whose voice does absolutely nothing for me. Listening to him on the opening title track is enough to make me band my head onto my desk. His higher-pitched tone is grating, his 'grit' sounds pretty bad, but it's when he reaches for all his power that his vibrato has the effect of sounding like an out of tune warble. It is deeply unpleasant.

"Watching The End" sounds very much like Edguy's "Do Me Like A Caveman", but it doesn't have the same charisma Tobi was able to give Edguy. Look, vocalists are damn important, and whether it's fair or not, the change here is too dramatic for me to ignore. It comes down to taste, but going from one of the better metal singers in the world to someone whose voice rubs against my grain is something no amount of songwriting prowess can overcome.

That brings us to the other issue here, which is that these songs are not as consistently melodic and memorable as the debut record offered up. I don't know if that is because the writing process had more of Jens' involvement and less of Alessandro Del Vecchio's, but there's something about this record which feels like it's trying to be more metal and less melodic. That might be what they wanted, but I don't think it makes for a better product, especially as trying to sound heavier brings Peer into the more aggravating range of his voice.

I find that a shame, because there are good songs here. "Learn To Forgive" and "Something More" are able to have big choruses while being heavier than anything off the first record. If they could have maintained that level of writing, there was potential here for something really good. Or at least something really good if Peer is your kind of singer.

My main takeaway is that your opinion of this record will vary greatly from mine based on whether or not you enjoy Peer's voice and style of singing. If you do, I can hear this record being a satisfying slab of melodic metal. If you're like me, however, the whole record exists under the pall of expectations, where I can't help but think the whole way through about how much more I would like it if Nando was still the one singing.

That means I'm not sure whether to call the record itself a disappointment, or the situation surrounding it, but either way I'm left wanting something a bit more than this. The Grandmaster's return is a risky gambit, and for me it didn't pay off.

2024; Album Anniversaries Part Deux

 Okay, Chris did this and then it inspired me to do the same.  Because a good idea is a good idea.

Them Crooked Vultures – Them Crooked Vultures (15th)

It’s hard to explain now how much hype surrounded this album; perhaps the most anticipated supergroup of my lifetime.  And yet, not too long after it was released, the album slid quietly into the ether, to the point where it’s almost an afterthought now.  What a strange cycle it was, some of that likely owing to the fact that the album was a critical darling, but was not exactly packed with accessible toe-tappers.  Either way, this one stands out for how large it was in the moment.  My wife still picks it for just about every road trip we go on together, so that’s got to count for something.

Alice in Chains - Black Gives Way to Blue (15th)

In the grand pantheon of great Alice in Chains moments, this represents both the last one, and the one that also will get swept under by the enormity of the band’s more recognizable catalogue.  The record is still as raw and emotional as it was then – the rare album about pain that’s hard to apply to a listener’s own plight, because the pain it speaks of is so obviously centered around the band.  This record served two purposes, one intentional and one maybe not – the final farewell to Layne Staley, and the true final statement of the entire grunge movement.

Clutch - Blast Tyrant (20th)

This was my favorite album for a long time, and remains the greatest achievement of Clutch’s storied career.  As another writer one opined – only Clutch could make a non-political political song, and Blast Tyrant, released in the fervor surrounding the invasion of Iraq the year prior, is in that same vein.  This is the gold standard for Clutch.

Dr. Dre – 2001 (25th)

I still can’t hear someone say “hold up” without thinking of the way it is said on this album’s most famous single.  Man, this album is a case study in rap history – a true genre luminary releases an instant classic, launches the career of another genre hero, and is simultaneously hugely impactful on rap for both all the right and all the wrong reasons.  There are, I’m sure, several aspects of this album worthy of examination by way of a doctoral thesis (no pun intended.)

Soundgarden – SuperUnknown (30th)

An all-time classic.  One of the last globally radio-popular albums that I truly loved.  It both perfectly encapsulated everything grunge was, and concurrently showed what it could be.  Not much more to say.

Offspring – Smash (30th)

Chris and I have differing opinions about how well this album has aged, and while I agree with him that the music sounds very much of its era, I think the message of the album withstands the test of time.  Now, is some of that because it speaks in broad, widely applicable generalities?  Sure, I’ll cede that point.  But that doesn’t make them any less poignant, and perhaps even more important in the image-driven, social-media era.  Except for that song about how angry Los Angeles traffic can make you.  That’s neither here nor there.

Nine Inch Nails - Pretty Hate Machine (35th)

In thinking about this record, I was mentally stuck on the number 35 – that can’t be right, this album didn’t come out before I was born…then I remembered that I turned 40 this past summer.  Crap.  Anyway, the older this album gets, the more ahead of its time it seems, even if the production doesn’t quite stand up to the more modern industrial advances.  Either way, to have this album transcend during the sunrise of the grunge era, and also launch a genre more or less all on its own, is a unique and profound accomplishment.

Metallica - Ride the Lightning (40th)

Still, to my mind, Metallica’s best album.  And yes, I recognize that there’s some gray area here because large portions of it were written by Dave Mustaine.  Whatever.  That doesn’t make it any less outstanding.

AC/DC - Highway to Hell (45th)

This isn’t AC/DC’s best album.  Depending on how I feel about “The Razor’s Edge” on a given day, it might not even be the band’s second best album.  But it does have the best single they ever wrote (“If You Want Blood,”) and there’s just something about it.  For all the quality of the two records that had become before, this was the first real statement by a band who would be my favorite band all through my teenage years.

Led Zeppelin - Led Zeppelin II (55th)

As my memory serves, the first album in my collection as I came of age that I could really just hit ‘play’ and let it ride.  Although I should mention that I openly loathe “Whole Lotta Love.”  Even with that though, the solo at the end is cool, and then everything from that point forward is Led Zeppelin, and indeed all of classic rock, at its finest.

Singles Roundup: Guns N Roses, Sebastian Bach, & Green Day

The first roundup of the year has some head-scratchers.

Guns N Roses – The General

You know how sometimes we complain about bands becoming nostalgia acts who just go out and play the same dozen songs until the end of time? Yeah, this is why that's not always such a bad thing. This version of Guns N Roses has been together for quite a while now, and they have absolutely nothing of worth to show for it. The only 'new' music they've made are a few updated versions of old demos that have been circulating among collectors for years, and let's be kind and say they aren't quite "Appetite For Destruction".

Let's now not be so kind and say that Guns N Roses is putting out music now that's even worse than "Chinese Democracy", for all of you who ridicule that album to this day. There's a reason why songs like this one didn't make that record, and Slash's presence can't do enough to make it interesting. The song is a slow drag with absolutely no energy, no melody, and vocals that show Axl didn't make good use of his decades in the studio. I'm not sure what the point of the track is supposed to be, or why it doesn't sound better, given how long it's been worked on.

Say what you want about Chinese Democracy, but it at least sounded like an album you could tell Axl wanted to make. I don't think even he gives a damn about this song. That's how it comes across to me.Sebastian Bach – What Do I Got To Lose?

To this day, Baz keeps calling for Skid Row to get back together, despite the other guys repeatedly telling him how much happier they are not to have him in their lives. I wonder how much of that is due to Baz not liking to make music anymore, since it's been a long time since he last put out a record. This song signals another attempt on his part, and it's rather interesting, in a way. Baz is working with people who know what they're doing, so the song itself is a nice blend of modern heaviness and old-fashioned hooks. Calling this an updating take on the "Slave To The Grind" sound wouldn't be far off-base.

What's also notable, since Baz keeps thinking his old band shouldn't be without his glorious voice... is that he doesn't sound so glorious anymore. He's fine through the verse, and the screams he started doing as he got older, but the chorus is rough. His higher register sounds like a lot of work and effort to hit, and the strain in his voice makes it more unpleasant to listen to than it should be. Baz won't like me saying this, but he's the weak link on this song. Would it be any different if he went back to Skid Row?

Green Day - One Eyed Bastard

This upcoming Green Day album is shaping up to be one weird experience. This time around, they give us another short burst that makes me scratch my head. The heavier chords are welcome, but the melody sounds quite similar to their own "Holiday". There's a sense of deja-vu in the chorus I can't quite shake either. And then there's a bridge where they literally use "ba da bing, ba da boom" as lyrics. Excuse me? I joked when "Look Ma, No Brains" came out that it was an odd rallying cry for an album, and that is carrying through. It continues to look to me like Green Day doesn't know how to pull themselves back from the cliff. How far down do we have left to go?

Album Review: Dymytry - "Five Angry Men"

It’s easy to want to like Dymytry.  There’s so much about the band that just feels right.  The presentation is sharp, the visuals are striking and evocative, the production on both of their albums has been top-notch, and the band’s burgeoning following in Europe should check all the boxes for a band that’s easy to fall for.  Especially on the heels of their debut “Revolt,” which didn’t break any molds, but promised that with a little maturity, greatness should inevitably manifest.

There’s something missing from their new album “Five Angry Men” though.  It’s damn hard to determine what that is, but there’s a spark that should ignite the flame of a passionate fandom that’s sorely lacking here.

To say that “Five Angry Men” is too calculating is wrong-headed, because no band should be criticized for having a thorough creative process.  And the album certainly doesn’t lack for authenticity, the band performs these songs as though they enjoy and are committed to them.  So it doesn’t sound fake, or anything truly incriminating like that.  Maybe the word for this record is ‘antiseptic.’  It’s just a little too clean, a little too predictable, a little too lyrically and thematically simplistic.  Having never heard the songs before, many of the lyrical rhymes and melodic permutations can be safely guessed by the listener.

That in and of itself isn’t necessarily a fault – we’ve spent pages here discussing that you can be a great artist by being transcendent at the familiar.  Still, “Five Angry Men” teeters too close to a sanitized, radio-clean Five Finger Death Punch for comfort.  (And it pains to mention but must be included – the chorus of “Wake Me Up (Before I Die,)” gets real Nickelback-y.)

Running down the tracklist of “Five Angry Men,” there is a temptation to brand several of the songs as store-brand versions of something else, but that’s not quite a fair criticism either, as there’s a whole stretch in the middle that resonates in a way the rest of the record doesn’t.

“Legends Never Die” is melodramatic in the extreme, and as much as that kind of affect often turns sour directly out of the carton, it works here.  The rubbery guitar tone helps separate the bridge from the giant, orchestral chorus and makes for an enjoyable quasi-industrial ballad, if such a thing can exist.  The record then careens into “Three Steps to Hell,” and the vaulted ceilings of “In Death We Trust,” both of which are the best examples of Dymytry flexing the muscles they use most.  Sure, there’s still a template of verse-big chorus-verse that’s hard to ignore, but this run in the middle of the record is where “Five Angry Men” gives glimpses of the kind of rock-industrial fusion that Dymytry is capable of.

Yet all that sounds like damning with faint praise, and maybe it is.  We talked at the end of last year about how Lord of the Lost, with their album “Blood and Glitter” finally put all the pieces together and made one great, cohesive effort.  Which is to say that Dymytry sits squarely where LotL was three years ago – they keep providing enough tantalizing morsels to hope for the future, but “Five Angry Men” isn’t a coming-out party.

2024; Album Anniversaries

Each time we turn the calendar over to a new page, we are faced with the reality of a new future, but also the coincidence of a new set of past events circling back around. The upcoming year is one with many album anniversaries worth taking note of, because sometimes the past tells us a lot about how evolution has been occurring, and also where it has gone wrong.

Whether all of these albums get a full essay exploring their music, their impact, and my connection to them, is up in the air. What isn't is that they are albums I am taking note of as the year begins, because my orbit is passing over where these records were discovered, and measuring that distance tells me something, even if I don't know what it is.

Bloodbound - Tabula Rasa (15th)

This album was a revelation when I first heard it. Unlike anything else power metal had offered up, this was a record I thought would be a point of genesis. The fusion of huge melodic hooks with instrumentation that borrowed from Soilwork's brand of death metal, there are ways in which this record set the stage for an entire branch of power metal. There are also ways in which this record set me up for disappointment, and may have even taught me that my interpretation of a good idea is far removed from what the wider world seems to think is worthwhile.

Killswitch Engage - The End Of Heartache (20th)

I never got far into the metalcore world, but even as an outsider it was clear how this record defined that entire genre. While a lot of who we are in our youth becomes cringe-worthy as we age, this record is one aspect of being a certain age at a certain time that only seems to echo deeper with time. We can argue whether the band ever did better than this (And in fact their self-titled album from 2009 is also celebrating an anniversary this year), but I don't think there's any debate the impact this album had on the metal world. It even marked me, which is an achievement.

Green Day - American Idiot (20th)

Much will be made of "Dookie" being a decade older than this, but I don't find discourse over that album very interesting. "American Idiot", however, remains fascinating. It is a record that never should have been made, never should have worked, and yet became the defining record of a generation. It also sits as perhaps the last real 'political' record to break through to the masses. Despite the world still being in turmoil, there was never another record that could do what this one did. That's worth thinking about.

Jimmy Eat World - Futures (20th)

My favorite album of all time will have been out for just about half of my life, and its influence on me has only continued to grow. What I take from this album is that emo can only mine so deep before it hits a raw nerve. The genre rarely ventured so far into the dark and the shadows, and for good reason. It takes expert hands to keep from falling off the ledge, and it's the tongue-in-cheek cynicism of most of the genre that waters down the impact so we can dose ourselves more heavily. "Futures" didn't pull its punches, and it needed to be a one-off for everyone's sake.

Morrissey - You Are The Quarry (20th)

The world would have been better off if Morrissey never saw a revival of his career. I'm not sure if I would have been. Perhaps I will figure that out in writing.

Tonic - Sugar (25th)

It was this record, and not "Lemon Parade", that cemented Tonic's greatness to me. I remember getting my first burned copy of the record, and being taken aback by something my nascent ears were not expecting. If not for this, I wouldn't have gone back and found the greatness in "Lemon Parade", nor would I have had my favorite band for all these years. That's certainly worth taking note of.

Weezer - Blue (30th)

Did this record create the idea of nerd rock? I don't know, but I know it was an early inflection point where I realized how desperately uncool I was. I was not part of the group scoffing at Weezer, nor the group who clung to them as heroes. I was somewhere lost, and it was only later I figured out how much Rivers and I had in common. It would be even later how much I hated myself for that fact.

Blues Traveler - Four (30th)

It amuses me how there are still plenty of people who, all these years later, don't realize what it says about them if "Hook" and "Run Around" are the only Blues Traveler songs they know or like. It also amuses me that the band would, later on, forget their own lesson and become cynical in an entirely different way. That doesn't diminish the impact this record had on me, or how John Popper's harmonica is still utterly unique to anything else I've ever heard. This nostalgia trip will likely need to be taken.

"The Different" Side Of VK Lynne

When you turn over the page, and you're trying to figure out which word to let the fresh ink of a Gothic drop-cap highlight as you start a new chapter, where do you start? That is the question VK Lynne is asking, as her solo career is emerging from the chrysalis, and her wings are ready to glisten in the sun. It is a different time than when she released the "Brain Waves" single, let alone when "Whiskey Or Water" came out. She is a different person, with a band's worth of experience to open new paths of creative wonder.

To anchor all of these whirling ideas, VK has tethered her mischief to her roots as a musician. The first taste of what "The Spider Queen" will be serving us is a cover, yes, but it cuts to the heart of who VK is. This song from Melisa Etheridge exists in the same fusion of blues and rock VK is steeped in, and there is psychology in the lyrics that reinforces thoughts I already had, and that perhaps remind us certain things are best said through the distance someone else's words allow.

"I'm free as a fire, and change is in the air," the song tells us. That is very much true, and there is subtext in those words I'm not qualified to read into, yet I can't help but think about. Being on your own can be liberating, but it can also be terrifying. Every choice has a world of possibilities, and every choice lands as your responsibility. In a band situation, the push and pull of personalities is a compromise that creates an identity that isn't quite any member, even if it is every member. On your own, you are laying yourself bare to the audience.

This song is a perfect fit for VK. When it was announced, I listened to the original version (Sadly, despite adoring "Come To My Window" and the other crossover hits she had, my knowledge of Melissa Etheridge's music never advanced past there), and I could immediately hear tones that echoed VK's voice. I don't know if I would say that about the other songs I know, but this one is natural, and perhaps has always been an Easter egg waiting for the moment it was necessary to sing.

VK's 'blues metal' vision imbues the song with a massive wall of guitars once things crank up, saturated to the point of the distortion feeling like walking out into the humidity on a hot summer day. There is weight in the simple chords, and that saturation is a white noise for VK's voice to cut through. She is piercing, howling a cry of both pain and excitement. For one chapter to start, another must end, and our feelings can be too complicated to be captured by anything other than sound. When you hear her voice, you might understand.

"You live and you learn, and you learn to hold on/And time will make it heal, and time will make it gone," we are told. Isn't that the truth. Whether those things become scars, or the synapses grow too far apart for the memories to still fire, the past loses its power when we build a new future. The memory palace is merely the adornment inside a snow globe we can let settle into an eerie calm.

New chapters and new beginnings allow us to redefine ourselves. Some of us aren't talented enough to paint a different expression on our faces, forever trapped in the confines of a narrow box. VK Lynne metamorphoses to escape those shackles, imbuing the power of fresh ideas. Blues metal is her latest, and from the sound of this song, it's about amplifying the power of emotions so they can break through even the toughest of exteriors. It seems to have cracked mine already.

"Don't you want to know what the dark and the wild and the different know?" the song asks. Yes, yes I do. Our spider queen is spinning a web like Charlotte, and in the center, I can read the message; Welcome.

"The Different" releases January 15th. Pre-save the song here!

Ranking Meat Loaf's Albums

I know what the numbers say, but it doesn't feel like I've been listening to Meat Loaf for thirty years. Ok, it actually does, since my memory of music doesn't go much further back than when I discovered the immortal Mr Loaf. The point is that Meat Loaf's music is rather timeless to me, so counting the years makes me feel older than any effect it might have on the music. Meat has been the constant in my life, no matter what I've gone through.

Not all Meat Loaf is good Meat Loaf, though, so today I'm going to put the records in order. My thoughts have been changing, even in recent days, so for my own sake I want to see exactly how Meat's music sorts out.

1. Bat Out Of Hell

I've spent these thirty years waffling on the question of which album is at the top. It pains me to write the list this way, since the sequel means more to me, but I can't deny which one I replay more often. There's something about how compact the epicness is on this record (I know that doesn't make sense), and those few moments that echo through time in a way nothing else Meat or Steinman would ever achieve. The 'wolf with the red roses' speech, the motorcycle guitar solo, Meat pleading for the end of time to arrive; those are moments caught so deep in the folds of my brain, no amount of time will ever shake them loose.

2. Bat Out Of Hell II (Back Into Hell)

What kind of weirdo was I that this was the first album I ever owned? The same kind of weirdo who still loves nothing more than telling people how obvious the 'that' Meat wouldn't do for love actually is. I've said more times than I can count how I trace back large portions of my personality to Meat and Steinman's music, and this is where it all started for me. While I was more of a Laurel & Hardy guy, compared to Steinman's Three Stooges reference, no record has ever been overblown enough to fill my empty husk the way this one did. It still does, even if it's more for special occasions these days.

3. Dead Ringer

It's no surprise the three albums penned by Steinman are at the top of the list. This one wasn't for the longest time, but discovering how wrong I was has been a wonderful way to recapture the flame of being a fan. This album has one of the few times I can stomach Cher, Steinman at his most musical theater, and the coda to "I'll Kill You If You Don't Come Back" is one of my favorite bits from all of these records. The line about homecoming queens "looking for magic in gymnasium lights" is evocative, and reminds me how different the experience was for me when I found myself staring dead-eyed into the ceiling lights on a certain night.

4. Couldn't Have Said It Better

How good is this record? Well, it's certainly a little flawed at the end, but the core of the record is so strong it more than makes up for the fact Meat sings a love/sex ballad with his own daughter. He was never an intellectual powerhouse, but that decision always makes me wonder if Meat ever paid any attention to what the lyrics said, despite his claims of being an 'actor' performing them. Anyway, this has some truly wonderful faux-Steinman songs that are the most fun I have with Meat.

5. Welcome To The Neighborhood

The two Steinman songs here are classics I prefer to the other versions that have been recorded, and perhaps Steinman's best line is found here. "There are no lies on your body, so take off your dress. I just want to get at the truth" is one of those things I wish I had written. But it goes beyond that, as Dianne Warren was the next best thing, and provided the best non-Steinman song Meat ever sang in the form of "I'd Lie For You (And That's The Truth)". That one has killed me ever since the first time I heard it. Ah, nostalgia.

6. Bat Out Of Hell III (The Monster Is Loose)

This has always been a weird one, because the half of the record not written by Steinman is better than the half he did. I love the facsimile, and there were still enough Steinman songs left to round things out. This would have been a fitting way to end his career, but things rarely work out so well. Meat finally getting around to recording "Bad For Good" should have been all the symbolism we needed.

7. Bad Attitude

The 80s were a bad decade for Meat, which we'll get to in a bit. The one bright spot was this record, where somehow Meat was able to find the songs to make a legitimately good record. It doesn't sound like the Meat we've come to know, but it was a different sound for a different time. Roger Daultry is utterly useless as a duet partner on the title track, but songs like "Cheating In Your Dreams" are wonderful, and work with the two excellent Steinman songs to give us both a reason to have not given up on Meat, but also a reason to hate what else he was doing at the time even more.

8. Hang Cool Teddy Bear

"I can barely fit my dick in my pants" is the worst lyric Meat ever sang, and the idea of him doing a record with writing contributions from The Darkness and an American Idol judge sounds so, so bad. For a long time I thought it was, although I've come to realize this record is actually trying to recapture what "Bad Attitude" had. It never quite does that, but there is charm to the Bon Jovi penned "Elvis In Vegas", and I can't help but laugh every time I think of how pathetically sad the pun is if you slur the title "Let's Be In Love" enough. Thanks, Britney, for the idea! Still, the bonus track "Prize Fight Lover" gave us the last essential Meat Loaf song.

9. Hell In A Handbasket

Not much to say about this one, other than it has decent cover art, and the opening song is good. It's forgettable otherwise, which wasn't as bad as things would get.

10. Blind Before I Stop/Midnight At The Lost & Found

The other 80s records are truly awful. Meat could barely sing at this point, and he couldn't afford to hire good songwriters. These records are the reason people thought his career was dead when "Bat II" shocked the world. These records would kill anyone's career, and there's no way in hell I will ever be enough of a collector to want to own these things. I won't even re-listen to them to rank which one I hate more.

11. Braver Than We Are

But the absolute nadir of Meat's career was his last record, which still depresses me. He wanted to go out with one more album penned by Steinman, but there just weren't enough songs left to do it. Steinman wasn't that prolific, and he recycled parts so much, Meat was reaching for scraps from musicals he wrote in the 70s. The songs aren't very good, but the problem is that Meat's voice was shot at this point. He sounded like he was already dead, but at least a corpse can't sing, which would have been preferable. I try to push this record's existence out of my head, but every so often I remember it, and I feel angry all over again. It would have been far braver to admit he couldn't do it anymore, and just retire with grace. Thank heavens we never did have to hear him croak through "What Part Of My Boy Hurts The Most", even if it's sort of the white whale of being a Meat Loaf fan.

Desert Island Discs, Revisited

Who doesn't love a good thought experiment? In this case, we're dealing with the classic situation of being stuck on a desert island with only ten albums to listen to for the rest of time. What do we pick? How do we decide? Those are questions we can take in many directions, as this is much more than simply asking what our ten favorite albums are. Here, we are trying to assemble a list of music that can fit any time, any mood, any situation we will find ourselves in. Other than being rescued, it seems. Is Gilligan here with us?

I did this one before, several years ago, and I thought it was interesting to see how the results have changed in the time since then. While several of the names are familiar, I have largely turned over the entire roster of albums, which goes to illustrate how much we change as time moves along.

These are my picks:

Tonic - Head On Straight

Previously, I would have picked "Lemon Parade" without a second thought, but I'm more cognizant right now of how much I actually listen to the albums I proclaim to love the most. In this instance, "Head On Straight" is the one I find myself reaching for the majority of the time, and it's the one I can keep listening to without getting tired of it. Maybe there's irony in the more limited sonic palate being more appealing when you find yourself in that certain mood quite often. Logic tells me this isn't the right choice, but it's the one I'm making right now. I suppose I need more heaviness (for Tonic, let's be real) if I'm going to be stuck.

Jimmy Eat World - Futures

Having most recently taken the crown as my favorite album of all time, I can't not include this one. There is something to be said for the diversity that "Bleed American" or "Chase This Light" have to offer, but nothing else they have done can match the atmosphere and feeling I get from "Futures". I imagine it will not often be the happiest of times on this theoretical island, and the album I reach for often when my mood turns dark is a necessity. The optimistic twist at the end has long been critical for me.

The Wallflowers - Breach

Food for the soul, food for the brain. While this is also one of my favorite records, it happens to be the one over my entire life that has put more words into my head than any other. So much of my own time spent creating and expressing myself comes from these songs, I'm not sure I would be the same person without it. I probably wouldn't be the same person going forward if I didn't have the record to remind me. There's something interesting about reciting lyrics and putting the mental pictures together, and this is the best art I know.

Green Day - Warning

Replay potential is hugely important, and there are few records I can listen to more often without getting bored than is true of "Warning". I don't know what it is about this record that makes it so, but it is my ultimate binge album. When I pull it off the shelf, I'm likely to listen to it three or four times before I consciously decide to leave it be for another stretch of time. It's almost the perfect encapsulation of that entire era of alternative rock and pop-punk, mainly because it uses only trace elements of those to construct power-pop. I'm a simpleton, I know.

Dilana - Wonderfool

Any list of this sort has to have my favorite voice, but choosing this record is a new one for me. It doesn't have the same emotional devastation, and it doesn't have my favorite song, but it does simply give me more. It gives me more time with her voice, more facets and elements to her power, and more room for the record to still grow on me as I spend the time memorizing every nuance. The novelty is still finding new ways to love her is what I find most attractive. If Dilana is the air I breathe, this record still has more of that 'new love smell' left for me.

Meat Loaf - Bat Out Of Hell

Another case where I have changed my mind, the original album now wins out over the sequel for this one specific purpose. The reason is rather simple. While both records are ingrained in the very core of who I am, being more concise means I find myself reaching for this one more often. As much as I love the sequel, and as much as it has meant to me, the full seventy-five minutes requires dedication to sit through. Whereas, I will never get tired of listening to Steinman's "wolf with the red roses narration", or rewinding things to listen to Meat pleading for the end of time. Huh, that's actually kind of appropriate, isn't it?

Dave Matthews Band - The Lillywhite Sessions

Things can become rather intolerable when I find the vessels in my head throbbing to the point I struggle to keep my eyes open. Music is often the last thing I want to engage with then, but there are certain sounds that soothe, with this record being one of them. It is very much a 'sad bastard' album, mired in oppressive gloom, but who doesn't have times when that is our reality? It can be nice to be reminded we are not the only ones to feel such a way, and that perhaps knowing the connection exists will allow some of that to escape and dissipate. Regardless, it is important to have something to listen to when sound can be painful.

Halestorm - Vicious

Like Dilana, I couldn't imagine being without access to Lzzy Hale's voice. Whether she is softly crooning the first lines of "The Silence", or screaming from the bottom of her soul, few sounds are more comforting to me than her voice. It's a rare thing to be able to get lost in the tone of someone's voice, but that is what happens for me with Lzzy, and why I sometimes call her the voice of my generation. Lzzy is almost as essential as water.

Graveyard - Hisingen Blues

My list is in need of more straight-ahead rock, and there is no better choice for that role than Graveyard. They are the most timeless band I know, which will serve me well if this is supposed to be a long-term situation. The only question is which record to pick, since they have several I could easily see myself listening to on a nearly endless loop. I settle here not just because I think it's their best record, but because I think it's the cleanest example of what makes Graveyard so great. I have to make no sacrifices by choosing this one, and the last thing I want to do is have regrets.

Kelly Clarkson - Breakaway

A dose of pure pop can go a long way, and I can't think of a pop record that pushes more of my buttons than this one. It rocks reasonably hard, the songs are stickier than tree sap on the bottom of my boot, and Kelly's voice made an entire genre of reality tv legitimate in people's eyes. I don't know how much room there will be for fun in this scenario, but whatever there is will need a soundtrack. That's what this record is for, and what it has always done. It is the citrus fruit staving off emotional scurvy.

And so, looking at the records I have picked, I feel like we have a satisfying little collection that reveals much of my musical personality. There are records and sounds I would have liked to include, particularly from the heavier end of the spectrum, but if I'm being honest with myself, this is a more accurate representation of who I am.

But the fun is that when I eventually do this again in a few years, the answers will once again be different. Not knowing exactly how is what makes this interesting to keep thinking about.

The Worst/Most Disappointing Albums Of 2023

If I am starting from the position that this was a bad year, then that means the bad music of a bad year must be even worse than usual, right? Actually, no. There was bad music, and some of it was truly terrible, but there was no more bad music than any other year. There might have been more truly disappointing ones, but that's a different case, and it's why I separate the two out when I make this list every year.

So let's start with the worst of the worst.

The Bad:

1. Avenged Sevenfold - Life Is But A Dream

I heard people praise this record, and it makes me think about that phrase, 'alternative facts'. I listened to this record, and I came away from it not even understanding if the band was trying to make an album. It sounded to me like a collection of ideas the band put in chronological order, with them thinking it was somehow clever to present riffs as they came up with them. This record is not clever, or well-written, or any good at all. In fact, I'm going to say there isn't much in the way of actual songwriting to be found here. The band glued pieces of trash together to form 'found art', and we're left wondering if putting a toilet in the middle of an empty room counts as an artistic statement. I say no, it's just fittingly called crap.

2. Primal Fear - "Cancel Culture"

I think this is a first, but I'm going to single out one song from Primal Fear. "Cancel Culture" pissed me off, and is some of the worst political analysis I've ever heard from musicians. Yes, that's really saying something. So why is it so bad? It isn't because I disagree with their take on whether people should be allowed to say anything they want with no repercussions, but rather because they declare that an audience deciding they don't want to support someone because of what they say is "the death of democracy". Believe what you want, but the people using their voice and wallet to support who they want is the very definition of democracy. Primal Fear sound like butt-hurt whiners who believe they are entitled to our money and attention, no matter what they say. Sorry, but no. That's not how any of this works.

3. Virgin Steele - The Passion Of Dionysus

I'm not going to waste much time on this one. Let's just boil it down to a couple of sentences and say this record is beyond amateurish. It's poorly written, and even more poorly recorded. The instruments sound like a 1980's synth played everything, the mix has no shine on it at all, and the vocals make me question if David Defeis still has a working larynx. It's just so cheap and pathetic.

4. Sermon - Of Golden Verse

Speaking of pathetic, this anonymous band is a good example of why some bands use that gimmick. I wouldn't want to put my name on this record either, as it spends forty minutes dirging its way through sound that contains nothing resembling a good song. It was pitched as being something grandiose and important, but that's a misspelling. It's actually impotent. Very much so.

5. Paramore - This Is Why

That sounds like the answer to a question no one asked. I certainly didn't, and I wish I could forget everything they're saying. Look, I don't mind that Paramore went in a more pop direction. I wasn't enough of a fan to be bothered by that, but they could at least do it well. This isn't well done, as Hayley writes some of the most monotonous, repetitive, and asinine lyrics and melodies. It's more annoying than catchy, and when she advises we tune out of current events, it feels incongruous with the fact that tuning out is how we go backwards and lose the progress the world has made.

The Disappointing:

1. Creeper - Sanguivore

This record made me even more angry than the actual worst one of the year. Why? Not only did I love the first two Creeper records, but this album being a vampire love story dedicated to Jim Steinman is exactly the sort of thing I should eat up. Unfortunately, after a fittingly wonderful opener, the band segues into bland and tuneless 80s goth rock. Not Gothic, but goth. They have shown me they are actors who take on a different role for every album, and this time they made their 'Waterworld' style dud. It not only offends me as a Steinman fan, and as a music fan, but it makes me reassess their earlier works, since now I don't know if they ever gave a damn about those either. Who the fuck even are Creeper?

2. Spanish Love Songs - No Joy

Critical consensus pushed me to "Brave Faces, Everyone", and for good reason. That record was a powerful emo statement, and delivered pain, catharsis, and damn good songs. So on this record... they go 80s? I don't get the shift in style at all, as the power of their music is replaced by wimpier guitars, twinkling synths, and songs written to sit in the weak and warbling part of the vocal range. I hoped the first single was just a joke about how hard it is to follow up a great record, but it wasn't. They fell into the trap, and it snapped right through the bone. And they called the record "No Joy", on top of it all. Could they at least make me work for the insult? This one was so easy it was actually sad.

3. Neal Morse - The Dreamer: Joseph Pt I

I haven't seen eye-to-eye with Neal's music in a while, but I thought maybe throwing himself into another religious project would re-ignite his fire. Nope. This is another long concept album filled with Neal's second-rate material that makes me pine for the days when he could make me sit through twenty-minute prog epics just to hear one killer melody. There isn't a single one on this record that matches anything from his best days, and at this point it's just sad to hear how far we have drifted from each other. Also; Who decides to make a two-part concept album (Yes, there is a second part of this coming soon that could wind up on next year's list) that tells the same story as the already wildly successful "Joseph & The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat"? This is never going to replace that, so it feels like a waste of time.

4. Motive Black - Autumn

I loved Motive Black's first single. But thanks to COVID, it took three years before their full record came out. When it did, it was mostly old songs from the singer's previous band re-done, and none of those songs were any good. This is why I don't often like when bands do nothing but release singles. One song here and there isn't enough to know whether or not we mesh. I wasted far too much time waiting for a record on the false hope of one song. If they had put it out sooner, I could have thrown them into my mental trash bin so much earlier and moved on to better things.

5. Foo Fighters - But Here We Are

I'm not going to say that they shouldn't have made an album so soon after the unpleasantness. I might be thinking it, but I won't actually say it. What I will say is that for this sounding more like a classic Foos record than anything in many years, it also sounds like a hollow version of that sound. The melodies aren't great, the one song drones on too long without doing anything, but mostly it just sounds like the band doesn't have it in them to rock right now. That leaves the record feeling rather tired and flimsy. I would have expected them to either go heavy on emotion, or heavy on anger, and this feels like it has neither. It's the most passionless record about personal tragedy I may have ever heard. What a shame.