John Allman

In 1975, my parents made a fateful decision, the first of many, that set me upon my chosen path. They took me with them to see "Jaws." In the bathroom, after the movie ended, my Dad said he heard a young voice saying over and over, "Smile you son of a bitch." He opened the stall door to find his 5-year-old son gleefully blasting the bowl with urine the way Roy Scheider blew up the air tank in the shark's mouth. Two years later, they took me with them to see the King, Elvis Presley, mere months before his unfortunate death. Elvis wasn't on his A game as he stumbled through a two-night, sold-out stand at the old Charlotte Colosseum. But we had floor seats, row 22, and my mother was shrieking like a schoolgirl. Women everywhere in the arena were freaking out. I just remember thinking, why is the big man in the jumpsuit cussing so much on stage? That's right - Jaws and Fat Elvis, my earliest memories of film and music, two defining moments in my young life. Today, thankfully, I have evolved from those humble beginnings to have an appreciation for most cinematic and musical genres. But my heart remains rooted in those formative years. I still love horror more than any other type of movie, and I choose to remember Elvis from his Sun Records days, long before the white jumpsuit, when he was full of swagger and fire, helping build a label defined by the all-time greats.

Feb 132013
 

What’s “too long” in rock and roll?

I suspect 16 years would likely qualify, but Soundgarden doesn’t sound like they missed a beat in the past decade and a half without releasing any new material.

King Animal, the band’s first album since 1996’s Down on the Upside, kicks off appropriately with the raging rocker, “Been Away Too Long.”

And, truth be told, as soon as the first words spew from Chris Cornell’s mouth – ‘you can’t go home, no/I swear you never can’ – you realize that it has truly been too long since these guys got together and jammed.

Soundgarden was always the black sheep kid brother of grunge purveyors Nirvana and Pearl Jam. They were noisy, unkempt (remember Cornell’s mane of black hair) and angrier than the more radio-friendly Seattle-area bands that broke big. I can only imagine being at one of the band’s early shows when they ripped through “Big Dumb Sex,” a visceral, almost violent anti-love song if ever there was one.

I still remember my first Soundgarden CD – a live EP of tracks off 1989’s Louder Than Love. And I bought the follow-up, 1991’s Badmotorfinger, on the day it was released. Those were the days when you would hole up in your room, headphones on, reading the liner lyrics to songs like “Rusty Cage,” “Outshined” and “Jesus Christ Pose.”

I didn’t begrudge Cornell & Co. when they finally broke in 1994 with Superunknown, their most accessible and commercial record, but I did get sick of “Black Hole Sun” after the 5,000th radio play and “Spoonman” just didn’t have the same staying power as past cuts.

Last summer, I totally geeked out when I realized that Soundgarden’s first new song since I was in my mid-20s (!) was attached to Joss Whedon’s “The Avengers,” and the track, “Live To Rise,” was a perfect anthem for the superhero epic. Cornell admitted in interviews that the decision was strategic – how many older bands release new material these days that fails to get the attention it deserves because mainstream radio sucks and MTV isn’t interested in promoting any band that was formed more than 6 months ago. This was an immediate opportunity to rejoin the collective music consciousness after nearly two decades away.

“Live to Rise” isn’t on King Animal, and that makes sense.

King Animal is less about a standout track and more about a pervasive feeling that permeates from its collective force. It’s almost, dare I say, a concept album. Even the strongest tracks– Been Away Too Long, Blood on the Valley Floor, A Thousand Days Before, Black Saturday – fold nicely into the larger canvas. You know how some albums, that one good song immediately stands out? This is not that album. It’s dense and rugged, like a detailed novel that doesn’t scrimp on long passages just to progress the plot.

The band’s signature sound hasn’t lost a step. If you close your eyes while listening, you’ll swear it’s 1991 all over again. Cornell’s voice is still as much a blunt instrument as Kim Thayil’s guitar or Matt Cameron’s drums. They may be older, but they haven’t lost that edge.

Even fans who liked Soundgarden’s more accessible hits like “Black Hole Sun” and “Fell on Black Days” will find something to enjoy here, particularly on tracks “Halfway There” and “Rowing”

King Animal  isn’t a cash-in. It’s not a reunion for these guys to feel relevant. Soundgarden remains a vital group with something to say.

Soundgarden – Been Away Too Long
Soundgarden – Blood on the Valley Floor
Soundgarden – Black Saturday

Soundgarden’s Official Site, Soundgarden on Facebook, Soundgarden on Spotify, Buy King Animal

Dec 192012
 

The latest album by The Gaslight Anthem is a return to the glory of Sink or Swim and The ’59 Sound, which is a relief.

American Slang, the band’s 2010 release, was a good album, but it just didn’t capture the energy and passion that Brian Fallon & Co. exude so well on their most memorable tracks. There was no “We Came to Dance” or “Great Expectations.”

American Slang felt like a stab at mainstream acceptance. Handwritten feels like a defiant middle finger to the establishment and an acknowledgement to longtime fans that the boys won’t be compromising from here on out.

Handwritten kicks off fast with the stunning “45,” a quintessential Gaslight anthem, ahem, about conflicted angst and the eternal struggle to grow.

And much like Sink or Swim, the disc just keeps chugging, each track launching forth from the last, fueled by an urgent drumbeat and staccato blasts of guitar. The title track, “Handwritten,” is a definite keeper. “Here Comes My Man” and “Mulholland Drive” are slower-paced story songs that would fit perfectly with the best of The Horrible Crowes, Fallon’s side project.

The standout tracks, for me, are “Too Much Blood,” a deeply confessional take on artistic aspiration, and “Desire,” a worthy companion to the aforementioned “Great Expectations” on any best-of playlist.

Here’s the deal – The Gaslight Anthem has its detractors, sure, and the comparisons to Bruce Springsteen are as inevitable as the band’s fixation on girls, cars and a blue-collar aesthetic.

But I will take Gaslight all day, every day, over lukewarm wannabes like The Killers who simply ape the storytelling technique of a Springsteen or a Bob Dylan but never once sound like they’ve lived, much less believe, the words that are raging from their mouths.

There’s something about this band that just grabs me. It’s like the first time I heard The Old 97s. Some bands you just love from the first song on. Needless to say, for me this is Essential Listening.

The Gaslight Anthem – Handwritten
The Gaslight Anthem – Mulholland Drive
The Gaslight Anthem – Desire

The Gaslight Anthem’s Official Site, The Gaslight Anthem on Facebook, The Gaslight Anthem on Spotify, Buy Handwritten

Nov 292012
 

I got into a discussion recently with a co-worker who loves The Smashing Pumpkins.

He remembered seeing Billy Corgan on stage at The Ritz in Ybor City several years ago. He described his emotional connection to Gish and Siamese Dream.

So I recommended he check out the Pumpkins’ newest disc, Oceania. I told him it reminded me of the band pre-Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, back when it seemed like Corgan was speaking directly to me, whispering confessionals in my ear, through songs like “Today” and “Disarm.”

(Quick confession of my own: My all-time favorite Pumpkins track is actually “Drown” off the Singles soundtrack.)

So my colleague went out and bought Oceania, and absolutely hated it. Passionately, vocally hated it.

And yet, here I am, recommending to you, the masses, that you give this album a chance. Here’s why: This is the best lineup that Corgan has assembled since the heyday of James Iha, D’arcy Wretzky and Jimmy Chamberlin. And it’s the best that Billy has sounded in years. He actually, honestly, sounds loose, free and poetic once again.

Oceania kicks off with a double-slice of classic Pumpkins guitar rock before settling in. Corgan has always been a master of maneuvering through blasts of distortion to mine canyons of quiet before erupting with scathing vitriol or unexpected melody.

And to be honest, Oceania is at its best in the quieter moments. Songs like “The Celestials,” “Pinwheels” and “The Chimera” remind you of the beauty that Corgan used to capture effortlessly without forsaking his love of full-throated rock. “The Chimera” is the standout, worthy of mainstream radio appreciation.

The wild card here is the divisive, near-10 minute title track.

It’s over-ambitious, full of rock star excess and prone to unnecessary, selfish flourishes – all hallmark criticism of Corgan when the Pumpkins decline officially kicked in post-1995, but the words still manage to claw out from the rubble to offer a plaintive, very personal admission:

No one can love you

‘Cause no one can free you

Lovers can’t touch you

‘Cause lovers might reach you, yeah

I’m so alone, so alone

But better than a wretched world

Better than a broken pearl

I’m so alone, so alone

But better than I ever was

It’s unclear if Oceania marks the next phase of Corgan and the Pumpkins’ career, or a proper coda after 2007’s wretched Zeitgeist, a bloated mess of an album.

If it is indeed the first step in the next direction, it’s a good one. Oceania isn’t a perfect album, and Corgan may be too far removed from the days when he could easily tap into our collective conscience and deliver a blistering sermon, but there are moments that remind you what it was like to have Billy in the pulpit, the place we needed him then and still want him to be.

The Smashing Pumpkins – The Celestials
The Smashing Pumpkins – The Chimera
The Smashing Pumpkins – Pinwheels

The Smashing Pumpkins Official Site, The Smashing Pumpkins on Facebook, The Smashing Pumpkins on Spotify, Buy Oceania

Jun 122012
 

Wrecking Ball, the 17th studio album by Bruce Springsteen, arrived with the expected hoopla and hype because, well, Springsteen is one of the last true musical legends still consistently making mainstream,widely-accepted rock and roll.

Hell, he’s even become prolific of late, releasing six albums in the last 10 years, more than any other decade in his 40-plus-year career.

What the early advances failed to mention was that Wrecking Ball is easily the best album Springsteen has released since 1987’s Tunnel of Love.

And while a lot of advance press touted Wrecking Ball’s emphasis on the current economic and political climate, they didn’t acknowledge how adept Springsteen has become at furthering the lessons learned from great folk icons like Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger.

First and foremost, write good, solid songs. And to this end, Wrecking Ball stands out – not for its radio-ready anthems, although there are several of those – but for the consistency on display, track to track to track.

And secondly, cloak the message whenever possible so that it seeps easier into the collective conscience, thereby allowing the seed to take hold and grow.

There’s so much to digest in Wrecking Ball’s 13 tracks thatI’ve decided to do a song-by-song breakdown with thoughts. It’s a bit of a deviation, but I think this album warrants the extra ink.

1 – “We Take Care of Our Own”: Think “Born in the U.S.A.,” but the stripped down version found on Tracks, the version where you realize the genius of what Springsteen had done. Most people misinterpreted “Born in the U.S.A.” as a rallying cry. It was a scathing indictment. Consider “We Take Care of Our Own” to be its sequel, playing like an uptempo, stadium-ready anthem. It’s really a shiv in the kidney of American politics, calling out the failed federal responses to disasters born of God and greedy bankers.

2 – “Easy Money”:  In the 22 years since the Chicken Man got blown up in “Atlantic City,” a lot has changed.  The narrator still has a girl. He still wants her to get dolled up to go out. But he no longer sounds remorseful or anxious about what he has to do, or who he has to rob, to pay bills that no honest man could pay.

All them fat cats/They’ll just think it’s funny

I’m going on the town now/Looking for easy money

3 – “Shackled and Drawn”: At once a celebration of blue collar workers, and a statement about how the middle and lower class have become the 21st Century equivalent of indentured servants. “Up on Banker’s Hill the party’s going strong,” Springsteen sings, while down below the masses keep “’trudging through the dark in a world gone wrong.”

4 – “Jack of All Trades”: Another stand-out track, and another testament to the blue-collar mentality that has been lost in recent generations. “The banker man grows fat,” he sings, “The working man grows thin.” The thing that resonates here is the expert wordplay. Not only is Springsteen a jack of all trades, he can do this and fix that, but he becomes a willing weapon, a vigilante, exemplifying the lengths that people are now willing to go to survive and the need to find an outlet to spew forth the venom that has been sown in our hearts from disappointment and rage at our government, our leaders, our lives.

If I had me a gun/I’d find the bastards and shoot them on sight

I’m a jack of all trades/We’ll be all right

5 – “Death to My Hometown”: The last time Springsteen visited his hometown was 1984, in the final cut off Born in the U.S.A. It was a somber, bittersweet look at childhood innocence and a dying way of life, full of shuttered factories and boarded up windows on Main Street.  What a difference 28 years makes. “Death to My Hometown” kicks off like a drunken Irish sing-along at a raucous wake, but Springsteen’s laser-precision lyrics have never been more carefully aimed. This may sound like a raucous celebration, but it’s one of the bleakest portraits of American decline that he’s ever created, complete with shotgun blasts in the background.

No shells ripped the evening sky/No cities burning down
No armies stormed the shores for which we’d die/No dictators were crowned
High off on a quiet night/I never heard a sound
The marauders raided in the dark and brought death to my hometown, boys/Death to my hometown

They destroyed our families’ factories and they took our homes/They left our bodies on the plains
The vultures picked our bones

6 – “This Depression”: Remember what I said about cloaking the message?  This is a classic example, with nary a word spoken about bankers, thieves or bastards. Just a love song, framed by today’s grim reality.

7 – “Wrecking Ball”: Essentially a song about Giants Stadium, “Wrecking Ball” transcends its sports subtext to fold nicely into a concept album about the devastating financial, emotional and societal damage wreaked by the lingering economic crisis. Few songs can marry such divergent themes as a country’s insistence on self-flagellation and its inexplicable ability to weather any storm. And therein lies the beauty of what Springsteen accomplishes. He fuses Woody Guthrie’s ability to pen damning indictments of current and global issues with P.T. Barnum’s knack for whipping a crowd into a sustained frenzy. The buoyant sense of hope that emerges is the musical equivalent of being swept up by the holy spirit in church. “Wrecking Ball” should be included for years to come as one of The Boss’s best tracks ever penned.

8 – “You’ve Got It”: Much like “Valentine’s Day,” off Tunnel of Love, seemed in stark contrast to the 11 songs that had preceded it, “You’ve Got It” doesn’t fit at first with the overriding theme. That doesn’t mean it’s not a good song or deserving to be heard. The sheer optimism is just jarring.

9 – “Rocky Ground”: The most overtly spiritual song on the album, a mixture of scripture and allegories that directly tie back to today’s crisis. This would have been a standout track on The Ghost of Tom Joad or The Rising. Even the oddly placed rap three minutes in doesn’t feel cliched or a desperate grab for relevance. It works.

10 – “Land of Hope and Dreams”: I first heard this song way back in the year 2000, the only time I got to see Springsteen in concert. it’s a fantastic live track, but finally released on an album, it fits perfectly with the overall theme. “Land” seamlessly merges Bruce’s two best traits, the epic six-plus-minute story song filled with visual imagery and the deep faith that has imbued his later work. Plus you can’t help but smile when the Big Man’s sax comes blasting through.

This train/Carries saints and sinners

This train/Carries losers and winners

This train/Carries whores and gamblers

This train/Carries lost souls

This train/Dreams will not be thwarted

This train/Faith will be rewarded 

11 – “We Are Alive”: Another quiet, softly stated ballad that tricks listeners. It starts out as a pretty song, a la “Secret Garden,” then morphs into a western-fueled sing-a-long complete with “The Big Valley”-era brass and hand claps. I love the refrain, “We are alive,” that swells and builds into a mantra of hope.

12 – “Swallowed Up (In the Belly of the Whale)”: Springsteen goes back to the Bible, but this time Jonah’s whale symbolizes much more. This is a dark, difficult listen, filled with a hopelessness that’s palpable.

13 – “American Land”: This is the second song to blast off like an Irish jig, touting the prosperity and future awaiting immigrants in America. Is this a signal that hope ultimately prevails? Or is “American Land” a misplaced prologue, or worse, a bloody joke.  Springsteen doesn’t show his hand, which is fitting.

This may be the last song on the album, but it’s not the end to this story.

The end remains to be written.

The end remains to be sung…

Bruce Springsteen -Easy Money
Bruce Springsteen -Death to My Hometown
Bruce Springsteen -Wrecking Ball

Bruce Springsteen’s Official Site, Bruce Springsteen on Facebook, Bruce Springsteen on Spotify, Buy Wrecking Ball

May 222012
 

Today is World Goth Day and we shall post accordingly…

140 Character Reviews is an occasional reoccurring post where we take a highly anticipated album and record our impressions of it track-by-track as we hear it for the first time. We withhold the right to change our minds a few listens later.

I’ve been a Marilyn Manson fan since Antichrist Superstar. I’ve seen him in concert three times, most recently playing a double-bill with Slayer where he held his own. I consider The Golden Age of Grotesque to be an incredible album, the highwater point where Manson found a way to fuse his spooky carnival barker and his anarchistic weirdo without trying to be everything to everybody goth. That said, his last two albums, Eat Me, Drink Me and The High End of Low, have not been the commercial successes he likely wanted, even if they did produce a handful of really strong songs. Born Villain is his eighth studio album.

  • Hey, Cruel World: This blasts off with urgency, although the track, as a whole, is a little uneven. It’s not nearly as good as “This is the New Shit,” or “If I was Your Vampire,” as far as opening songs, and ranks somewhere behind “Devour.”
  • No Reflection: Very strong track. The kind of song that would play great live. I particularly like the “Ra-oh-ha-ha-ohhhh” refrain.
  • Pistol Whipped: Best song so far. Classic, controversial MM song about a twisted couple who co-mingle sex with bloody violence.
  • Overneath the Path of Misery: Distorted spoken word intro that kicks into a nice NIN-inspired blast of dark electronica. There’s a lot going on here. It’s like a slice of crazy between two pieces of moldy bread, but it kind of works.
  • Slo-Mo-Tion: Sounds like a lost track from Mechanical Animals. MM rails against reality TV, I think, while experimenting with different chord breaks. Too weird to be a single, for sure, but not awful.
  • The Gardener: Bizarre spoken word song about not fitting in. Very experimental. Not great.
  • The Flowers of Evil: Halfway mark. This is definitely an album for headphones. Nearly every song has spoken murmurs or noodling in the background.  Best chorus of any song so far, but not the best song by far.
  • Children of Cain: Part of me wants to dismiss this as Glenn Danzig trying to pen a Led Zepplin-esque epic. Part of me likes the phrasing that Manson has crafted. Final feeling – indifference.
  • Disengaged: More talking, followed by screaming. Awful chorus. First song I skipped through. Nine songs in, and so far I only like two of them.
  • Lay Down Your Goddamn Arms: I wanted to love this song. It hooked me immediately through the first chorus, then lost me, then hooked me again, then lost me. Totally frustrated when it’s over.
  • Murderers Are Getting Prettier Every Day: First knock-down, hard rocking song on the disc, but by the halfway mark, I was still on the fence. Not a good sign. Am I getting too old to appreciate MM?
  • Born Villain: Another missed opportunity. A title track called “Born Villain” should be a Grand Slam for Manson. It’s a bunt single. At best.
  • Breaking the Same Old Ground: Prophetic summation for this album? It’s starting to look that way. This ballad pales compared to “The Nobodies” or “Long Hard Road Out of Hell.” Manson needs a new shtick, and I’m saying that as a fan.
  • You’re So Vain: Third good song on the album, and it’s a cover. Manson has a way with interpreting other artists. This ranks right up there with his version of “Tainted Love.” I see this getting lots of airplay, which is deserved.
  • No Reflection (Radio Edit): Clocks in 1:25 shorter than the unedited version. I prefer the longer version, but the radio edit is strong.

Final thoughts: Manson should have ended the album with “You’re So Vain,” so he went out on a high note. Out of 14 new songs, I only liked three. The good news is those three songs are really good. The bad news: Most of the album left me completely indifferent. To call this a major disappointment would be an understatement.

Marilyn Manson – Sweet Dreams (AIV thinks this was the best song MM ever recorded and would even say that it’s better than the original)