Hello to all of you twelve people who are reading this blog when I don’t update it–and to the one mystery person who reads it when I do update. (I think I know who you are, mystery person. You rock.)
On January 26, the Ozzman cameth to the Borders in Columbus Circle. Here’s what it looked like.
Here is the full transcript of my conversation with Ozzy:
Me: Hello, Mr. Ozzy.
Ozzy: (looks up from my book that he is signing) ‘Ello. (Smiles) Where’re you from?
Me: Houston…?
Ozzy: Wha?
Me: Houston, Texas.
Ozzy: (smile fades into frown) Aow. (goes back to signing book)
The End.
It made my day. What also made my day is the Black Sabbath mix that @DoctorNerve burned for me. Why have I waited until now to get into such awesome songs? I’ll tell you why: residual fear and guilt from my Southern Baptist upbringing. Luckily, in his new autobiography, Ozzy explains that Sabbath never had any intention of associating themsevles with Satanists. In fact, he talks about avoiding them when they stalked him at hotels. So, that’s good news for me because it means I can listen to lyrics like “My name is Lucifer, please take my hand” and think, “Oh, he’s just joking, haha.” Guilt absolved.
(Says quick prayer of spiritual protection. Thank you, God.)
(No, really. I do still say prayers of spiritual protection. They are comforting, and they work.)
Amen.
Incidentally, the book (I Am Ozzy) is fucking hilarious. Who knows how much of it the Ozzman actually wrote himself; I wouldn’t be surprised if Sharon was his ghostwriter for much of it. But it’s an entertaining read. I recommend it.
If I’d heard the Mastodon and Gossip albums earlier, my votes might have been slightly different. But here’s a hip hip hooray for the 15 people besides me who awarded points to The Black Crowes: “Hip, hip, hooray!”
I’m reading through all the Best of 2009 lists on Lala.com; the lists are compiled by publications and websites like Spin, Paste, PopMatters, etc. And I haven’t heard of more than half of these bands. And something tells me that if I were to listen to all these albums, most of them would be the mansy-pansy easy listening shit that calls itself indie rock nowadays. Somebody correct me if I’m wrong.
The one diamond in the rough I found that I seem to have missed in 2009 is Crack the Skye, by Mastodon. Three cheers once again for metal bands from Georgia. After hearing a couple minutes of the first track, I was sold. I downloaded the whole album, and so far it’s pretty great. I can usually tell by sampling a fraction of an album whether or not I’m going to like it. Some people would call this jumping to conclusions. I say, I know what I like, and I know when I hear it.
Is the problem with me? Is it my ADHD need for extreme stimulation that causes me to have a hard time appreciating low-fi tunes by Grizzly Bear or Morse code loops arranged into hippie-dippy trips by Animal Collective? I couldn’t care less about music like that. I’ll take classical music or opera–both of which I love–over Tegan and Sara any day of the week. I want to hear passion in my music. Bring on the aggression.
How could I have forgotten (in my previous Christmas post) last year’s Christmas EP by the Raveonettes? It’s not their best material, but it’s more interesting than most Christmas carols.
Notice I say “favorite.” I’m not claiming that they’re earth-shatteringly good; few–if any–Christmas albums are, after all. These are the ones I can listen to without wanting a stiff, brandy-spiked eggnog to get me to the end of the record. Not that these albums wouldn’t be improved if listened to with a stiff, brandy-spiked eggnog firmly in hand. A beverage like that can make any experience twice as enjoyable. Unless you’re lactose intolerant, in which case, for you, there’s this wonderful product.
x
Amy Grant – Home for Christmas
This might actually be Amy Grant’s best album ever. Her deep, folksy voice is well-suited to the acoustic accompaniments. The best track is the last one (“Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring”), which is completely instrumental and features the London Studio Orchestra and some fierce violin soloing by Mark O’Connor.
x
x
x
x
Michael W. Smith – Christmastime
On this album, it sounds as though Smith took a cue from Grant’s Home for Christmas (above) and delivered his own, similarly-balanced blend of spiritual, traditional, and original songs. The fifth track is a standout: with “Hope of Israel,” Smith creates a haunting, minor-key piano melody that opens into a full orchestral arrangement. Truly beautiful.
x
x
x
Various Artists – Holiday Songs for Snow and Mistletoe
And you thought this was going to be all Christian artists, didn’t you? Nay. And verily I say unto thee, Old Navy hath more than affordable fleece. They’ve also ventured into the secular holiday mix CD market. This particular one (shown at left) is my favorite. It cost less than $10 when I bought it about eight years ago, and it includes classic songs by great jazz artists (Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Lou Rawls). There’s only one undeniably annoying song on the record: “Baby, It’s Cold Outside,” by Johnny Mercer and Margaret Whiting. I’ve always found that song to be kind of sexist, and Margaret Whiting doesn’t help things by sounding like a naive idiot. But apart from that song, the album is quite listenable.
x
Savatage – Dead Winter Dead
This is the album that started it all: my borderline-tasteless Savatage addiction. But you really should give this album a chance. Just try to forget about the overplayed radio hit “Christmas Eve (Sarajevo 12/24),” usually credited to the Trans-Siberian Orchestra (i.e. Savatage’s eventual, unfortunate incarnation as a touring extravaganza of perpetual Christmas). And try to forget that the band’s sound was outdated, even in 1995 when the record was released. If you can forget all those things and listen with an unbiased mind (I know; it’s hard), you may find yourself head-banging your way through the holidays.
xxxx
Mitch Miller and The Gang – Holiday Sing-Along with Mitch Miller
You may have been thinking that this list wouldn’t get any worse than 90s metal that sounded like it belonged in the 80s. But guess what? It’s worse. Oh, it’s much, much worse. I declare with pride and pleasure that this is my favorite Christmas album of all time. This opinion is due in part to the fact that I have fond memories associated with it (my parents have it on cassette tape), but it’s also because this collection has just about every jolly, non-religious Christmas classic imaginable–and an elfin-sounding backup chorus, to boot. This is truly one of those love-it-or-hate-it recordings. Either the accordions and the vocals by “The Gang” (which sounds an awful lot like Mitch, Mitch, and more Mitch) will drive you up the wall, or you will learn all the words by heart. You will listen to it as you decorate your tree. You will insist on subjecting your family to it as you all open presents on Christmas morning each year. You will not care that many people consider the music intolerable…because it just wouldn’t feel like Christmas without it.
Once you’ve heard them all, Christmas songs can be incredibly annoying. My least favorite is “Happy Xmas (War is Over)”, by John Lennon, Yoko, and The Plastic Ono Band. I support the “war is over” sentiment. But I get annoyed by the children’s choir, God bless their hearts. (Random thought: how old are those children now? Who are they? Did they meet Lennon when they recorded their part of the song?)
I also don’t like the opening lyric, “So this is Christmas…” It sounds like John sat down to write a Christmas song and started brainstorming and just went with the first thing that popped into his mind, i.e.:
xxx
(JOHN sits cross-legged on a Tibetan rug. Incense burns next to him.
There’s a piece of paper on the floor. JOHN holds a pencil.)
JOHN
So…this is Christmas…Hmmm…
(scratches head, thinks)
Well, that could be the first line, I guess.
(writing)
“So this is Christmas.”
(Pause.)
And…uh…Fuck me, I don’t know. What have I done this year? Oh, hey, that could be the next lyric.
(writing)
“And what have you done…”
(Thinks some more.)
What rhymes with done?…Better go with the obvious.
(writing)
“Another year over…And a new one just begun.” Yeah, that works. Well enough, anyway.
(Lights a joint. Takes a drag. Thinks. Exhales)
And.
(Pause.)
Soooo…
(Pause.)
This is Christmas…
You can see where I’m going with this. Bottom line is, I hate that song. Oh–and isn’t it annoying that the title is “Happy Xmas”, not “Happy Christmas”? It’s like John is so intently imagining there’s no heaven, no hell below us, and no religion, too, that he can’t be bothered to write the word “Christ.” If it irked him all that much, why didn’t he write a song called “Happy Holidays” or “Happy Winter” instead?
One final complaint. The chorus “War is over, if you want it” is a logical impossibility. I’d bet money that most people listening want war to be over–but wanting by itself cannot, unfortunately, end anything. The people who want war are the ones who keep it going, and the people who don’t want it are at the mercy of those who do. It’s sad, but true. So I get irritated by that chorus because I want war to be over, and yet it’s not.
Much is often said about guitarists, drummers, singers–about who the “greatest of all time” is or was, about who the “greatest” of the moment might be. But pianists are frequently overlooked, perhaps in part because there aren’t many truly excellent ones in popular music. It’s arguably easier and definitely less painful to pick out a melody on a piano than it is to master even the most basic chords on a guitar. Anyone who has strained to reach an F major chord on a guitar can appreciate the simplicity of the same chord on the piano. And anyone who has spent any amount of time at a piano can admire the dexterity involved in crafting a terrific solo, unexpected chord progression, signature style, etc., on the piano.
OH thinks it’s important to recognize the most skilled piano-playing artists of the moment. So here they are. This is not a list of all-time greats; it’s the movers and shakers of the present. Or, as Jerry Lee Lewis might say, the shake-rattle-and-rollers.
10. Trent Reznor
Surprised? Although Reznor is best known for grinding, distorted industrial rock and pissed off lyrics, he started out as a pianist. A prodigiously good one, so the story goes. For the most part, the world has yet to hear first hand these impressive piano skills that Reznor is rumored to have. Sure, he’ll tease us with a little keyboard melody here (Ghosts I, track 1), a handful of chords there (“March of the Pigs”), but we’ll have to keep waiting for the day when he unveils his more advanced abilities.
9. Alicia Keys
Classically trained (at least until she graduated high school at 16), Alicia Keys has an undeniably unique style of songwriting. Her songs mix blues with pop and hip-hop sensibilities, a combo that made her a chart-topping artist at age 20. Oh–and she sings well, too. Each of Keys’s tunes, if a bit repetitive in an R&B loop kind of way, reveal a soulfulness that has always sounded wise beyond the youthful years of their composer. (Embedding of this song was disabled. Otherwise, it would be posted here.)
8. Patrick Wolf
Precocious, a bit egotistical, and incredibly prolific, 26-year-old Wolf has released four albums in the past six years and has a fifth one slated for 2010. Stylistically, he’s all over the map; you could probably describe his songs in terms of music from just about any other era and not be too far off the mark. Roxy Music, Bowie, and even The Killers seem present and accounted for. If hearing The Killers in Wolf’s music implies he’s as heavily influenced as they are by better and more important bands of that past, so be it. At least Wolf is a better keyboardist than Brandon Flowers.
(For Patrick at the piano, go here. For cooler stuff, see below.)
7. Amanda Palmer
AFP (that’s “Amanda Fucking Palmer,” as she refers to herself) is nothing if not original. She has developed to perfection her trademark Kurt Weill-meets-Black Flag-meets-The Smiths aesthetic, turning her artistic identity into a sort of indie brand with an undyingly devoted cult following. As a musician, Palmer has progressed since The Dresden Dolls debuted in 2001 and continues to find odd ways of putting chords in succession while still somehow making musical sense. It’s unfortunate that she and drummer Brian Viglione have disbanded the Dolls: separately, they are interesting; together–live–they are extraordinary.
6. Matt Bellamy
He sings in a dramatic falsetto. He rips on the guitar. He composes orchestral arrangements on the recent The Resistance. He sings in a dramatic falsetto with a guitar slung over his shoulder while playing the piano in an orchestrally arranged song–live. It’s a bird. It’s a plane. It’s Matt Bellamy of Muse. Enough said.
5. Casey Dienel
At 24 years old, Dienel is the youngest musician on this list. After studying classical vocals and classical composition at the New England Conservatory of Music, Dienel dropped out–but her music hasn’t suffered for it. She released a solo album in 2006 and subsequently formed a band, White Hinterland, whose 2008 debut was grossly overlooked and under-reviewed. On Phylactory Factory, Dienel flirts in her high-pitched, girly voice with jazz piano riffs and deceptively light-hearted lyrics. Deceptive because this is seriously well-crafted music by a relative newcomer who clearly knows what she is doing. (Fun fact: White Hinterland released a more experimental EP, Lumiculaire, later in 2008. The lyrics are mostly in French. And it’s one of the best stoner albums of the year. Don’t quote me on that.)
4. Tori Amos
Ok, I’ll be honest: I’m writing this from the point of view of someone who doesn’t listen much to Tori Amos but who respects her songwriting abilities, based mostly on hearsay and limited personal encounters. (Personal encounters with the music, that is. Not with Amos herself. For instance, I think “Spark” is a badass song. And Amos saw the beauty in “Smells Like Teen Spirit” before a lot of other people did.) I’ve heard concert accounts of her playing more than one piano simultaneously. I can’t deny that she’s a pianist force to be reckoned with, even if her lyrics are a bit overly serious for my tastes.
3. Regina Spektor
Regina Spektor’s music is quirky, anti-folk, unpretentious catchiness. And then she throws in something serious (like “Laughing With” from Far or a fantastic cover of Lennon’s “Real Love”) and punches you right in the gut. Her lyrics are playful and mysterious, creating Edward Gorey-like worlds with recurring themes. (The name “Mary Ann,” literary allusions, and multiple languages continually appear). See her live, and hear a rare phenomenon: a singer who sounds better in person than on a recording. And, as a pianist, she’s capable of more than her simple arrangements allow us to hear–she began playing the piano as a child and eventually studied at the Manhattan School of Music. Perhaps someday she’ll throw a little Rachmaninoff into her concert repertoire.
2. Rufus Wainwright
As if it’s not enough that he’s of a fine musical pedigree (son of Loudon Wainwright III and Kate McGarrigle), as though it’s not enough that most of his songs are glistening gems of lyrical and instrumental (and, yes, sometimes excessively theatrical) artisanship, Rufus Wainwright has now written an opera. In 2008, the Metropolitan Opera allegedly revoked Wainwright’s commission when the artist insisted on writing the libretto of Prima Donna in French instead of English. The Palace Theater of Manchester debuted the opera in July 2009. Prima Donna received mixed reviews at the Manchester International Festival, but nevertheless, OH is looking forward to seeing Rufus perform selections from the work at the New York City Opera on Thursday.
1. Ben Folds
His dork-rock style has lost some of its novelty, and his most recent solo album Way to Normal (and the fake pre-release version) and tour were disasters. But, you have only to listen to Ben Folds Five’s debut album from 1995 to understand why Folds tops this list. In a word: showmanship. Folds’s jazz/rock skillz are par excellence, but they’re also some of the most abusive in the biz. Fists, elbows, and feet are all fair game when it comes to body parts with which he’s willing to beat the piano. Folds is at his best best by himself or with a small band; the number of musicians and goofy visual distractions onstage made his last tour a ridiculous pseudo-hippie/college-pop hybrid. Strip away this camp and newfound psychedelia, and what you have is still the most impressive, improvisationally free pianist in rock right now.
Below is an email I sent to Jon Pareles at the New York Times in response to his review of Wild Beasts at Joe’s Pub on 9/8/09. I can probably now scratch the Times off the list of places to pitch music articles. Oh, well. At least I got my opinion out there.
***
Dear Mr. Pareles,
I’m glad to see that the Times covered the Wild Beasts concert at Joe’s Pub. The originality and (for lack of more apt word) ballsy-ness of the band’s sound deserves every recent notice it has received.
With all due respect, however, I think that comparing them to U2 and Morrissey is an easy, obvious description of music that seems to have a more complex array of influences. Are you not hearing Berlin-era Bowie / Brian Eno in the arrangements? What about the fact that the Klaus Nomi-like falsettos rival those of Muse’s Matt Bellamy–who until now has had that vocal range cornered but who also can’t be mentioned without acknowledging the Thom Yorke similarities.
I think that reducing the lyrical subject matter to “nothing less than the human condition” is a cop-out, but that’s probably because I always think that phrase is glib way of glossing over specificities that a writer doesn’t want think about long enough to identify in more detail. What else would any lyrics by any artist be about, if not “the human condition”? The lack of oxygen on Pluto? (Even that could be metaphorically applied to humans, I’m sure.) If the songs refer to “invention and destruction,” what prevents the inclusion of an example of some of those lyrics? The article’s word count?
I also think that the band’s British origins contribute to their being unafraid to approach camp and melodrama–though with their serious performance demeanor, they never completely step over those lines. England has a history, moreso than the U.S., of producing bands who write fey-sounding waltzes (like “The Club of Fathomless Love”, on Limbo, Panto) as readily as up-tempo rock songs. Just as Queen, Bowie, Mott the Hoople, Muse, etc., began their glam-ridden or -influenced careers in the U.K., so, I believe, Wild Beasts could not have come from anywhere else. It is interesting to note the amount of attention this first NYC show by Wild Beasts has garnered, as well as the amount of nervousness the band members confessed to feeling at Joe’s Pub. They are an all-male band with often-effeminate vocals. Politically speaking, mainstream America squirms in discomfort when men aren’t behaving in a stereotypically masculine way. Is it any wonder that Wild Beasts materialized in a country that typically embraces gender-bending musicians without anxiety; that they worried about their American reception prior to their New York debut; that they are becoming “cool” in the U.S. only after Europeans have deemed them acceptable?
I realize that, as a journalism student who should be making friends in this industry rather than criticizing people at the Times, I am not doing myself any favors by writing this email. But I kind of can’t help myself. I feel impassioned when I hear music that makes bold choices, that blends styles of predecessors in a new way to create something truly unique. This doesn’t happen often enough in music today. While I am pleased that a major newspaper is paying attention to a very small yet significant musical niche, I wish that the review had afforded to this band more pointed comparisons, detailed examples of the songs’ subject matter, and a broader context in which to frame the emergence of such a unique sound.
This is a new column called Head to Head. In it, I will pit two albums by different bands/artists against each other. Most likely, these albums will have been released on the same day. But not necessarily. Each album will be evaluated based on the same five criteria, listed below. There will be one winner and one loser–and probably some pissed off detractors.
TUESDAY 9/8/09 – MONOTONIX VS. WILD BEASTS
VS.
Criteria #1: Evolution
Monotonix’s debut album, Body Language (2008), was an unclassifiable mixture of hard rock, metal, Gogol Bordello, and Borat. Where Were You When It Happened? is more of the same, but it finds the band owning more boldly this only-half-ironic sound they’ve created while amassing a cult following in their wake of abused trashcans and littered venues. What this means for a band that sounds fine in the studio but must be experienced live: instead of stretching a mere six songs (from Body Language) into a full set, the Tel Aviv trio now has eight more songs, all heavy with dirty crunchy riffs, to supplement their soundtrack for performative chaos. The final result should be either longer shows or shorter jam sessions. Either way, the new material will bolster what is already a solid, if limited, catalog.
On the other end of the spectrum–the far, far other end–Wild Beasts has mellowed out almost all traces of camp in their über-indie sound. The band’s debut, Limbo, Panto (released in the U.S. less than a year ago, in November 2008), was a ballsy blend of David Bowie’s 80s detachment and Klaus Nomi’s disturbing falsetto. One thing is still true: Hayden Thorpe and Tom Fleming, who share lead vocals, can SING. At their NYC debut at Joe’s Pub this past week, both Thorpe and Fleming as well as bandmates Ben Little and Chris Talbot, missed nary a note or a beat. Let me be clear: the singers, switching seamlessly between upper and lower vocal registers glossed with vibrato, did not make a single tonal mistake. They sound just as good in person as they do on recordings. Given the vocal difficulty of their songs, this is an incredible skill. (Who taught these guys to sing, anyway??) Thorpe and Fleming now rival Matt Bellamy of Muse as the most consistent falsetto vocalists of the moment.
Kudos aside, however, the new album Two Dancers seems more to the tastes of stuffy Pitchfork folk for whom subtlety so often automatically equals monumental greatness. While Limbo, Panto took risks with borderline over-the-top tunes, such as the three-quarter timed “The Club of Fathomless Love”, Two Dancers takes almost no risks at all. It’s more inoffensive background music than ear-catching statement.
Here’s what I mean in plainer terms: I had never heard of Wild Beasts until a few weeks ago, when, prepared to enjoy a mojito behind the Kunsthaus Tacheles in Berlin, I stopped, distracted by what I heard playing over outdoor speakers. I had to ask three bartenders what I was hearing before I got my answer. It was Wild Beasts, and it was their first album, and when I went home, I immediately downloaded it and listened to it over and over again, astounded. A month later, I was excited to download the band’s sophomore album. When I listened to it, I was content but no longer excited.
Where Monotonix has amped up the volume a notch or two, Wild Beasts has toned it down. This is not to say that a band should become increasingly dramatic with each album. They should, however, in my opinion, become more self-possessed. With a new album, Monotonix offers us an emboldened consistency; Wild Beasts offers brilliance watered down.
Criteria #2: Accessibility / Listenability
Wild Beasts is easily more listenable to the average set of ears. It’s soothing, even-toned, etc. Monotonix is for those about to rock. And we salute you.
Criteria #3: Is it GOOD?
Yes, and yes.
Criteria #4: Fun Factor
It depends on your definition of fun. If you like to wear big, black glasses that are not prescription and contentedly bop your head to the music, then Wild Beasts is more fun for you. If you like to break things, you’d likely prefer Monotonix.
Criteria #5: Personal Bias
I break things.
Winner: A close call, but I have to give it to Monotonix. However–if it were Limbo, Panto vs. Where Were You When It Happened?, the edge would go to Wild Beasts with Limbo, Panto. But that album’s not in the ring. We’re fighting with Two Dancers. And the two dancers weren’t quite there when it happened.
In addition to naming “Crazy in Love” (by Beyonce ft. Jay-Z) the fourth best song of the past decade, Pitchfork has completed the assemblage of a hodgepodge list of songs, allegedly the top 500 in the past decade, the top 20 of which seem to have been randomly selected by a lotto machine.
Crimes for your consideration:
-”Crazy” by Gnarls Barkley is ranked one place higher than “Hey Ya!”, by OutKast.
-Some chick named Annie, who doesn’t have red hair and a plucky dog, holds spot number 17 for a song called “Heartbeat.” I’m sure I’ve lost some hip cred by not knowing who she is, but based on the song sample, I don’t care to find out.
-Will everyone who plays Rock Band please get over “Maps” already? It’s always been my least favorite song by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. I think the reason people like it is that it’s one of the only YYY songs that the average person can sing. Try screaming your way through “Rich”, from the same album (Fever to Tell, 2003), or sighing your way through “Black Tongue” and its chorus of fake orgasms, and you’ll see that much of the Yeah’s best music is impossible to karaoke to if you’re not Karen O. Hence, the “Maps” popularity: easy vocals, easy guitar solo, and lyrics vague enough to mean something to anyone. Boring.
-Pitchfork’s number 1 spot goes to OutKast, for “B.O.B.”, a song that most people (especially people who read Pitchfork) haven’t heard until now.
I submit to you my list of the top 20 songs of the 2000s:
…It’s going to take me a long time to come up with 20 songs and rank them against each other. In fact, I would have run this post a lot sooner, but it’s been sitting in my draft folder for a couple weeks because I’m not sure I’ll ever come up with a satisfactory list of 20 songs. I’ll let you know if I ever get around to completing such a monumental task.
Beyonce? Seriously?
