Music
Section By Jeb D.
DANGER DAYS: THE TRUE LIVES OF THE FABULOUS KILLJOYS
My Chemical Romance
The last few times I’ve heard from Gerard Way have related to comic books: his own comic series The Umbrella Academy, which I quite liked, and My Chemical Romance’s cover of “Desolation Row” on the Watchmen soundtrack, which I quite didn’t. So it’s not surprising to find that the latest MCR album is, basically, a comic-book story of teenage paranoia. The setting is a “futuristic” (read: “really, we’re talking ’bout today–wink!”) society rife with pirate DJ’s and kids packing heat while on the run from Greedy Corporate Overlords, but that’s just window dressing for a carefully crafted set of rabble-rousing anthems of adolescent self-pity. Whether appropriating concepts from Bowie, harmonies from Queen, riffs from Green Day, or synth wash from Duran Duran, song after song is constructed around Bic-waving sing-alongs that will make this album an absolute monster in concert; expect to hear audiences bellow “Motherfucker!” in all the right places. There’s catchy bits here and there (the half-rap “Planetary (GO!)”, the guitar slash of “Pretty Poison”), but you’ve heard them all before and better. “Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na)” might be the single most annoying track this band has come up with yet (“Shut up and let me see your jazz hands“???), and songs like “Bulletproof Heart” and “SING” are so radio-ready generic that all you’ll remember is Way’s pronunciation of words like “hope,” which can’t be represented by any symbols I know in the English language. And lest you fear that somehow the whole thing is to be taken seriously, it ends with a source recording of “The Star-Spangled Banner,” which–wait for it–dissolves into screeching noise just as it reaches its climax. Didn’t see that coming, did ya?
ABSOLUTE DISSENT
Killing Joke
Huh. I had no idea that it had been almost thirty years since all the original members of Killing Joke recorded an album together. Well, regardless of who was and wasn’t playing, they’ve certainly had a huge influence on an awful lot of punk, goth, dub, metal and industrial bands over the years, so it’s appropriate that their new album feels like a summing up of KJ’s strengths: Walker’s fractured, skittering guitar lines, thick, thudding bass from Youth, Ferguson’s propulsive drumming, and Coleman’s roar of a voice over it all; given the fact that he basically bequeathed us the throaty gargle that characterizes much of today’s “adjective-metal” scenes, it’s actually kind of nice to hear the slightly cracked croak that has overtaken him, and which lends a welcome air of vulnerability-you might almost call it humanity-to his voice on songs like “Fresh Fever From The Skies” and “In Excelsis.” The album’s sound is familiar without sacrificing freshness or variety, from the Gang of Four-like groove of “European Super State” to the bouncy, almost poppy “Endgame;” and the concluding “Ghosts of Ladbrooke Grove” takes things out on a deep dub groove that, in context, sounds almost hopeful. If you mostly know KJ as just a name that your favorite band drops as one of their influences, here’s as good a place as any to rectify that.
SISTER SPARROW AND THE DIRTY BIRDS
Sister Sparrow and the Dirty Birds
The retro-soul field is getting more and more crowded these days, and it would appear from the evidence of this album that we’re into phase two: moving on from the expert recreation of a particular past era (Sharon Jones for example) to mining the entire history of R&B to develop a style that’s as comfortable with Dinah Washington or Sarah Vaughan as it is with Martha Reeves, which is where we find Arleigh Kincheloe, lead singer of Sister Sparrow and the Dirty Birds. Fronting a punchy horn section, with the funkiest of licks provided by guitarist Sasha Brown, this is a potent revue that doesn’t limit itself to any one genre. Kinchloe and her band are comfortable as they lay down the Famous Flames groove of “Quicksand,” reggae skank on “Boom Boom,” some hip-swingin’ samba on “”Baby From Space” and the swoony Tin Pan Alley romance of “Just My Eyes.” And fans of The Social Network will get a kick out of the absorption of “In The Hall Of The Mountain King” into the chorus of “Who Are You.” Kinchloe’s also got a nice view of the partying lifestyle of a rock and roll woman: “I stumble to my feet / Praying I could chance to meet. / The standards for a lady / But I’ve been such a sailor lately.” And there’s a stunning ache in her voice as she belts the simple plea “Why did you run out on me Eddy? / Why?” This has been a great year for neo-traditional female R&B vocalists (Eden Wells, Caro Emerald, Trixie Whitley, etc.); Kinchloe’s another worthy addition to the list.
WORD JAZZ: THE COMPLETE 1950S RECORDINGS
Ken Nordine
The term “beat poet” doesn’t exactly conjure up the picture of a button-down, crew-cut radio personality, but the most famous (and, save Ginsberg, arguably most influential) of the beat poets wasn’t a beat at all, but a Chicago disk jockey named Ken Nordine. Already established as a voice-over artist and narrator, Nordine (who still works and records today), emerged in the 1950’s with a unique style of free-form story, verse, and observation, usually spoken to accompaniment by jazz musicians Chico Hamilton and Fred Katz (who composed most of the music), or occasionally with nothing but the creative use of sound effects to punctuate his “word jazz.” He was highly influential on performers from Tom Waits to Garrison Keillor, and this collection presents his work at its newest and freshest. “My Baby” is an early piece that ends with kind of a limp joke, but tweaks the argot of the beats in a gentle way. “Hunger Is From” is a fascinating, goofy narrative on the pleasures of noshing that is a model for future stuff from The Firesign Theater, and both “The Sound Museum” and “Bury-It-Yourself Time Capsules” feature sly bits of commentary on art and consumerism. By the time he gets to the cityscape of “Faces In The Jazzamatazz,” Nordine is taking off into something truly experimental and impressionistic, and the chilling “Looks Like It’s Going To Rain,” accompanied by sound effects only, is like a Lake Woebegone story narrated by The Shadow. This set collects the complete original albums Word Jazz, Son of Word Jazz, and Next!, with informative liner notes.
Other Notable 11/23 Releases
Kesha, Cannibal. A song called “Blow” could potentially be about either of two interesting topics. This one isn’t.
William Tyler, Behold the Spirit. Gorgeous acoustic guitar soundscapes from a veteran session player, with occasional touches of brass and piano. Not recommended to those for whom structure is a priority.
Southern Culture on the Skids, The Kudzu Ranch. Maybe the most outright fun release of 2010, previously only a download, now available on CD: Rick Miller’s wacked-out white trash storytelling and John-Fogerty-Meets-Dick-Dale guitar are amply complemented by Mary Huff’s sultry vocals and fluid, swinging bass. And their live show was the party of the year.
Smashing Pumpkins, Teargarden By Kaleidyscope Vol. II “The Solstice Bare”. The music continues to come out in dribs and drabs (only four songs on this $25 list set), but by golly, these folks know how to commission a collector’s box.
Agalloch, Marrow Of The Spirit. Epic metal fantasia, painting bleak landscapes with monstrous guitar from John Haughm, Aesop Dekker’s doom-laden drumming, and a touch of whispering cello by Jackie Perez Gratz. Unfortunately, I will never know what it all may or may not be about, because Haughm delivers the vocals in the gargling rasp of a cartoon ghost from an episode of Scooby-Doo.
Kanye West, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. The gang’s all here (Jay-Z, Rick Ross, Nikki Minaj, Kid Cudi, Elton John, etc.) for a fascinating, darkly autobiographical, and inescapable song cycle on the fame that West damn well knows he deserves, and can’t help feeling guilty about.
Florence + The Machine, Between Two Lungs. Expanded 2-disk edition of last year’s Lungs, including live stuff, remixes, and something from one of those Twilight movies. Nice, but if you don’t already have this one, I’d say pick up the single disk.
Mason Jennings, The Flood. The singer-songwriter reclaims some of his early songs from old cassette tapes found in his dad’s attic.
Giant Sand, Blurry Blue Mountain. Gelb’s latest continues to not be Calexico, but the sound is close enough that I tend to wonder if Convertino and Burns left more because they weren’t interested any more in Gelb’s music, or just in Gelb. Either way, an album that goes down so easily that it’s barely there.
John Koerner, Spider Blues. Reissue of the 1965 folk-blues album by the guy whose guitar playing Bob Dylan idolized.
Nine Inch Nails, Pretty Hate Machine. Game-changing album is remastered, sounding even more amazing.
Calle 13, Entren Los Que Quieran. Even if this weren’t an amazing blend of contemporary hip-hop, pop, rock and Latin stylings (which it absolutely is), it’s a fucking brave gesture to make political music in Latin America these days… or any America, really.
David Wilcox, Reverie. I have to admit that “End Of The World (Again)” makes its point, but stuff like “Shark Man” and “Cast Off” gets pretty on-the-nose. Still, as overly-sensitive acoustic guitar guys go… well, he goes.
Various Artists, Canadian Celebration of the Band. Haven’t heard it yet, but when you have combinations like Neil Young with The Sadies, or Garth Hudson himself revisiting “The Genetic Method,” this has got to be worth a listen.