#Record Scratch Album Review

[slavghoul]

Full article from Metal Hammer 12/2022 that I posted an excerpt from in the previous post. BTW, Impera landed #1 on Metal Hammer’s list of best albums of 2022!

--

It was January 2022, and we found ourselves sitting in the empty lobby of a snug Seattle hotel, overlooking the sunset over Puget Sound while soft rock wafted through the PA system. Across from us was Ghost frontman and mastermind Tobias Forge, and we spent nearly two hours talking about music, family, dogs and the steady ascension of Ghost from spooky Swedish underground band to arena filling titans. But mostly we were there to talk about Impera – their fifth album, then still two months away from release.

In the run-up to an album coming out – particularly one with a highly acclaimed predecessor, like 2018’s Prequelle – artists tend to convey palpable anxiety as they prepare to relinquish control of their work to the world. Not so with Tobias, who radiated ease and comfort. Impera had not yet seen the light of day, but he had already moved on. Looking back at that period today, he explains, “As soon as I am done making a record, I’m pretty much fed up with it. I don’t want to hear it, I don’t want to know about it, I just want to forget about it. Once it hits the ears of people, depending on how it’s being received, that’s where you start from scratch again.”

Following Ghost’s North American tour with Volbeat and Twin Temple, Impera was released on March 11. It seamlessly blended pop-savvy songwriting with elaborate arrangements and steady torrents of anthemic pop metal riffage that created a wormhole back to the lighter-raising, arena-rock majesty of the 80s. From the glass-shattering scream that opened Kaisarion to the synth-rock squall of Watcher In The Sky, it delivered one guitar-powered banger after another.

It was enough to land Ghost their first No.1 position on Billboard’s Top Album Sales chart – their fourth Top 10 overall. Even bigger, in terms of vinyl and CD sales, Impera scored 2022’s biggest first-week sales for any album, of any genre. With more than 62,000 copies sold in the US alone, it easily bested The Weeknd’s February CD release of Dawn FM. In fact, Impera claimed the biggest first sales week for hard rock vinyl since Pearl Jam’s Vitalogy in 1994.

Critics united in swift and lusty praise. It might have felt heretical at the time, but many early reviews rated Impera as besting Prequelle on all fronts. Our very own Dave Everley wrote: ‘Impera wins on bolshiness, bravado and skyscraping songs alone. Ghost have turned in a modern metal classic with an arena rock heart. It turns out the Devil doesn’t have all the best tunes. Tobias Forge does.’ It’s safe to say any plans of “starting from scratch” were shoved to the back burner.

Ghost’s official Imperatour headlining run took them back across North America and then to Europe. Despite the lingering ravages of Covid across the live music industry, they thrived. “I am very happy that we managed to orchestrate a somewhat functioning but very successful album launch”, says Tobias. “We managed to nail 70 shows with just one cancellation. I think in this day and age in this year, that’s fucking great!”

Across the globe, stages were filling up with shows that had been booked many years prior. “We had to cut and paste a little with our touring schedule, because this past summer was basically filled with 2020’s line-ups,” says Tobias. “That made our scheduling a little… I wouldn’t say sparse, but we had breaks that were longer than normal. There are so many bands that are doing these weird dances. The last year of releasing an album into the void, with no touring and cancelling here and there and everywhere, and people having to rethink their lives, basically… We’ve been blessed not to have done too much of that.”

Logistics aside, somewhere along the line, that cultish little band from Sweden – the one with the creepy frontman singing about Satan and plagues and empires – went mainstream. Propelled by Impera’s momentum, the band tapped into new levels of cultural saturation thanks to appearances on mainstays such as Jimmy Kimmel Live.

“TV always brings you in front of new people”, says Tobias. “We did [The Late Show With Stephen] Colbert a few years ago, and every time you do something like that, you obviously expose yourself to a new scene of viewers. And that’s always great, unless you completely shit the bed on the air. Ha ha ha! I think we did do a few things this year that brought in a whole slew of new people into our fanbase.”

But ever the realist, he adds, “You might have a spike of people checking you out… but you don’t really notice if things like that had any effect. It’s not like the day after, all of your shows are now sold out and there’s a double night booked into every show you’re doing. It’s such a slow process that you don’t notice until a half year later when new fans come in and say, ‘I saw you on Kimmel’ or ‘I saw you with my dad.’ I wouldn’t say that being on Kimmel changed everything. It’s been slow, step-by-step, but it builds new branches onto the same tree and you keep growing higher.”

And higher they grew. In July, Mary On A Cross – originally released on the 2019 EP, Seven Inches Of Satanic Panic – was used in a Tiktok tribute to the show Stranger Things. The ripple effect was staggering. The song landed in the Top 10 of Spotify’s Viral 50 Global chart. As of this issue, the hashtag #Maryonacross has notched up well over one billion views. Ghost eventually released an official, slowed-down version of the song and the two versions combined now claim more than 180 million Spotify streams and counting. “For us, the Tiktok thing was or is just a giant bonus”, he explains. “That was never something that we planned.”

Surely the unplanned waves of publicity will ferry over legions of new fans, for whom an embarrassment of riches awaits. “One thing that I felt proud over, was the fact that we’ve been around for 12 years,” says Tobias. “We’ve made five records, a bunch of EPS, and I am glad that there seems to be a song that has a way to suck people in. And if they go into our world and like it, there is plenty to find. If you like Mary On A Cross, you can just jump on the train and go where we already are heading.”

It’s been an uncommonly good year for heavy music, but for Ghost it’s been more than a success – it’s been a coronation. Despite their demoniacal appearance and transgressive lyrical themes, they have negotiated the near-impossible task of attracting mainstream audiences while holding fast to the diehards in metal who have been there from the start. It creates the enviable problem of facing a new year with new pressures and heightened expectations. But Tobias has a plan.

“We’re doing a lot of touring again”, he explains. “On previous album cycles we’ve done four legs in America and two or three in Europe and repeated. We’re going to go into every territory next year, but there’s going to be one European tour, one American tour. We are going to do a little bit of everywhere. There’ll be a little bit of something up in upper Asia, on the far end there – a very well-established country with a lot of pop cultural fascination, and the home of videogames. And there’s going to be something in the Oceania world, and there might be something south of Panama, and there might be something slightly north of Panama. It feels pretty solid.”

He cryptically adds, “We’re going to come out with a little bit of change before that – good change. We’re not going to go silent. Some things are public, other things not in public view, but there are a lot of things brewing.”

We are journalistically bound to inquire about the next album and, unsurprisingly, Tobias remains mum. In January, he told us, “Everything I’m doing now is for the next record. I have a vague idea what that will be like and a vague idea of the title and the colour scheme.”

For now, that will have to do, but rest assured that as we all continue to enjoy the masterpiece that is Impera, Tobias is already hard at work, figuring out dramatic new ways to blow our minds. But he still allows himself the odd moment to stop and take it all in.

“To be able to make all of the shows that we’ve done, and to have a record that did fairly well, I think the sum of it is pretty fucking awesome,” he smiles. “I’m very thankful. It was a lot of hard work and a little bit of luck.”

[sonarryx]

elliott smith – XO (review)

i purchased my copy of XO in pretty rough shape, with a few visible scratches on the disc and plenty of wear and tear on the case. it was definitely a risk, but i wanted to listen to this album and this was the only copy i could find (i tend to get all my CDs from local in-person sources, very rarely ordering them online). i'm lucky that the CD played with no issues, because i fell in love with this album right away and only loved it more with each listen.

there's a clear level of care and intention that went into the recording of this album. i can't help but step back and admire when everything about a record goes right. it's just incredible. i could gush about XO all day. elliott smith deserves all the hype he gets and more.

track one, "sweet adeline," is a perfect setup for everything that follows. i love a good slow burn opener that reaches its peak in the back half of the song. the one song i knew from this album, the titular waltz #2, is still a great song, but not a lot has changed on repeated listens—i like it about as much as i did before.

my one and only gripe with XO is what i can only compare to the sound of a recorder in "baby britain," an otherwise good song that was disrupted by the high-pitched, out-of-tune monotone sound in the second half of the second verse. (you can also hear the same instrument in brief isolation at the very end of the song.) the liner notes provided no hints as to what it was (unless it was a particularly unfortunate-sounding flute), and a little poking around on google didn't immediately get me any answers. it seems to sit more toward the front of the mix on the CD from my car speakers than it does on spotify/through my headphones and laptop speakers, so you won't hear it as quite so disruptive if you go test it out for yourself.

a rundown of my favorite songs on this album:

"bled white" is an upbeat little tune with a lyrical structure i just adore. 10/10 driving song. this one could very easily become a comfort song for me, and it's definitely going on my driving playlist!

i am a sucker for a good chord progression, and "amity" is where it's at! it's a short one, and it's probably the heaviest on the album, musically speaking. i just love each and every piece of this song, but especially the swell at 0:53. it's perfect.

"bottle up and explode!" wins affection on the title alone, and the song itself does not disappoint. i'm extremely pleased to have this song in my life. the bridge at 1:50 is a very smooth way of kicking the song up a notch, though it does fall short of actually exploding.

there's a fantastic horn-line groove in "a question mark" that we're prepped for at the end of "bottle up and explode!" with a silly little sax riff. i have to admit, i interpreted the opening lyric as "i've got a question, mark" about some guy named mark, not the actual punctuation, and i think i like hearing it that way better. dunno who mark is but he sounds like a dick to me.

final thoughts: most of what i've heard about elliott smith is all about how miserable his music is, and while i completely understand why that's the narrative, the music is just so well-done that it's hard for me to genuinely wallow in the misery of the lyrics. towards the end of the album it gets a little more dismal, but the main emotion i come away with is satisfaction. it's just a fantastically well-done album, start to finish.

[is-she-suffering]

8/2002 - KERRANG! Magazine - Tales of Ordinary Madness

Katie Jane Garside has been dogged by rumours of anorexia, insanity and suicide. But Queen Adreena's frontwoman insists she's more alive than ever...

IT'S AUGUST 26, 2000, and Katie Jane Garside is dead. Or rather, the rumour circulating backstage this afternoon at the Reading leg of the Carling Weekend Festival is that Katie Jane Garside is dead, having taken her own life last night. Her band, Queen Adreena, were due to headline the Carling Premier Stage this evening. It would have been their most high profile show to date. Perhaps the pressure was just too much for Katei Jane, the backstage liggers mused as they sipped lagers around white plastic tables. Perhaps we were all to blame for pushing little, fragile, damaged Katie Jane into the spotlight again so soon. Poor Katie, they sighed. Another round anyone? It's now August 16, 2002. Katie Jane Garside is sipping mineral water in the sunshine outside a chic East London hotel. For a dead girl, she's got an awful lot to say this afternoon. "I only knew that I was supposed to have committed suicide when I read the review of our gig that night in Kerrang!," she says cheerfully. "My band apparently knew the rumour was going around, but they decided against telling me. They thought that it might confuse me. They might have been right."

IN 1991 - famously 'The Year That Punk Broke' - Katie Jane Garside was tipped for greatness. Her band Daisy Chainsaw - a disturbing yet beguiling London-based alternative rock quartet - had just breached the Top 40 with their debut single, 'Love Your Money', and fanzines and style magazines alike were captivated by her faux naïf innocence and little-girl-lost sensuality. But as stardom beckoned, Garside got spooked, bailing out of the business in order to find herself solitude and expansive beauty of the Lake District. Returning to London a few years later, Garside put together Queen Adreena with former Daisy Chainsaw guitarist Crispin Gray, exchanging her pop-punk past for infinitely darker, stranger, psycho-sexual territory. 'Taxidermy', the band's 2000 debut album, was hailed in the pages of this magazine as "the most startling rock debut of the year, a record full of volatile emotions and uncommon beauty". Katie Jane Garside was, emphatically, back. Talking to Garside is an incredibly intense experience. She's thoughtful, polite and not without a sense of humour, but in her desire to make sure she's understood - or perhaps, more accurately, make sure she's not misunderstood - she can be exasperating company. When she's struggling to get to the kernel of her ideas, she plays with the small purple flowers on the table in front of her, or plays with her ring or musses her long tresses while she thinks. When she's really struggling, she flaps her arms distractedly by her sides like a bird, lays her cheek against the cold white metal table, closes her big liquid eyes and leaves vast pregnant pauses between words. She apologises a number of times for "not being coherent". At times, you fear she might start to cry. All in all, it can be quite unsettling. Today Katie Jane is dressed in her trademark thrift shop chic, an impossibly short, fashionably moth-eaten mini-dress. Less than 72 hours after the completion of Queen Adreena's first UK tour of the year, her arms and legs are covered in bruises and bloody scratches, a testament to the extreme physicality of her live performances. She describes her present environment as "cataclysmic". "Everything not essential is getting razed to the ground," she says. "And the things that are needed are getting extremely defined. I've made an active decision to change things." Analysing her own character circa 'Taxidermy', Katie Jane will admit to being "very off the planet", and "cushioned against reality". All to aware of her reputation as some ethereal, faerie princess, for the past few years she feels she's been denying herself life. With Queen Adreena's mesmerising new album 'Drink Me', she claims to be "using things like violence and sex to beat myself into existence". "I need to know that I exist," she says. "It's like I'm slamming myself into my body, wanting to be alive in the here and now. Hence the violence of this record." Today Garside absolutely refuses to get into the specifics of the last few years of her life. She is incredibly guarded, to the extent that when she divulges something as routine as where she lives - Highgate, North London - she'll quickly say, "But don't write that". She lives on her own - when pressed she'll admit, "I'm not sure that's such a good idea actually, because it can eat you. The walls so close in," - but when asked about her day-to-day life she mumbles "too much information already". "I can't give you specifics," she maintains. "I can't. It's time to hold things back, really. I don't want to give people my diary, I don't want someone picking through my knickers. Maybe I don't want people to know what I mean. I want their instinctive reaction to what I do. What's important is not what I say, but what I do."

QUEEN ADREENA - and here, with no disrespect to Gray, bassist Orson Wajih, and drummer Pete Howard, we mean Katie Jane Garside - polarise opinion like few other bands. If you want proof, check out the thread dedicated to the band on the Kerrang.com message board right now. One K.com user, posting as 'GJH' writes, "KJG is my fucking princess. She is amazing. Every time I see them (Queen Adreena) live I feel every emotion possible while listening to music". The opposing view is succinctly, if somewhat brutally, argued by one 'Rabidtart' who writes, "I had the misfortune to watch them live this past weekend at the Bulldog Bash, and it was a prime example of why they shouldn't let the mentally ill out into the community. It was more embarrassing than anything else, watching a practically naked woman, who is quite blatantly barking mad, freezing to death and screaming unintelligibly down a microphone for 30 minutes. This wasn't art or musically challenging, and no way at all did it rock. It was just horrific." Time and time again, the word "mad" is used in connection with Katie Jane Garside. Now, music journalists are not qualified to make psychiatric judgments on anyone, let alone musicians they've spent less than one hour with, but there are times, such as when Garside repeatedly talks about "annihilation" and "meltdown" and the "claustrophobic" nature of modern life, that you find yourself wondering about her mental state. Frequently, it's uncomfortable just listening to her working through things. There's the sense that really you shouldn't be here. At one point during our conversation, the singer notes with curious pride, "I am everybody else, I am not myself. I'm a chameleon in the face of other people". No offence, but your words would suggest to me that you've no sense of your own worth. "Yeah," she agrees, letting the word hang in the air for a full 15 seconds. "Well that's very perceptive. And how do you live with that?" It sounds like there's a lot of unhappiness in you. "The problem stems from having no sense of anything consistent in life," she murmurs quietly. "I've had a pretty erratic life, all in all. I lived on a boat for a number of years," - Garside spent her early adolescence on a ship moored in the Caribbean - "and having six miles of water beneath me and infinity above left me without definition in a way." But can't contemplating the vastness of the universe make you think that leading one's own life is pointless and insignificant in the grand scheme of things? "But then what do you do?" she protests. "Do you just lie down and die? The only thing that's always been there for me is my voice, is singing. You can sing yourself out of oblivion, and that's what I've done on many occasions. Sometimes it's like I'm the only thing that is alive and everything else is created by my imagination. I don't want to go down this route really, but fundamentally I think this is where schizophrenia happens..." So in your mind, you're either God or nothing? "Exactly. I don't like that polarity at all, and one person very close to me is very worried about my belief in that." Have you ever considered that the world of rock 'n' roll might not be the best place for you, Katie? "But, in a way, that's the most protected environment I could be in," she demurs, "because for me it's a self-created reality. To stand on the edge of a stage is like standing on the edge of a cliff, I'm always testing myself." And is that a pleasurable thing? "It's a leap of faith, I wouldn't say it's pleasurable. I exist in the spaces between polarities - light and darkness, euphoria and terror, quiet and loud. The point where those opposites meet has a frisson which throws you into other worlds. That's where i seek my being."

CYNICS MIGHT see Katie Jane Garside as a fake, an icon cleverly constructed to appeal to the underdog, the troubled and fragile. In her lyrics, which often allude to self-destructiveness and dislocation, sexual obsessiveness and revulsion at her physical form, you can find parallels with the writings of the Manic Street Preachers' troubled guitarist Richey Edwards. Like Edwards before her, Garside is too smart and too individual to accept the role of quixotic poster child for the disaffected. "I don't accept that responsibility," she insists. "This is my journey and it's for me alone, essentially. I'm not an evangelist, I'm not here to save anybody. I do it for myself in order to define myself in order to define myself." Again like Richey Edwards, it's evident from Garside's lyrics - with their references to "protruding hips and skull and spine" - that she has issues with her self-image. Her discomfort in addressing the subject, or again her fair of being misinterpreted, is painfully obvious. When I mention self-mutilation, she quickly says, "I play in a rock band, that's my solution. I dance hard, I play hard, transformation is possible through that". But when I mention anorexia, Katie Jane stares into space in silence for a full 29 seconds before asking for another question. Okay, do you think you're a pretty girl? "Now you're being cruel," she says quietly. Well, I mean, you've got a photo session today, so you must have made a conscious effort to look good? "Or look bad," she smiles weakly. "Same thing really." But you didn't leave the house today thinking, 'Yeah that looks bad, that's the look I'm after...'. "People think I do look bad," she shrugs, pouring another glass of water into her glass. "I get so much shit in the street. I inspire disgust. I must be doing something right. Am I looking for a reaction? I'm sure I am somewhere. I like to fuck with people's sense of what a pretty girl is, of what is a respectable fuck. I mean Kylie is the squeaky clean respectable fuck, where everything smells nice and pretty. And life doesn't you know, it doesn't. I have to dive into that nature and expose it." If Katie Jane Garside has any identifiable 'problem', it's simply that she thinks too much. The majority of us crave a quiet life, and pondering every last detail of our existence - as Katie Jane is wont to do - is a sure-fire recipe for being driven to distraction. It's easy to dismiss and demonise those who continually pose uncomfortable questions, but that surely is the entire raison d'etre of the true artist. Katie Jane Garside's art is about forcing herself out of that safe comfort zone, a lifestyle and existence she sees as "a very somnambulistic place". "I have allowed myself to fall off the cliffs and i have hit the rocks," she says, again using vague terms but leaving you in no doubt she's alluding to some painful personal traumas. "I can't see an end in sight, but I won't stop fighting. "I've been living in a treehouse for too fucking long. I want to play among the real people now. I don't want to be above it all. I want the blood and bones. I want those footprints in the fucking sand. But it's tough getting down. It's so much more comfortable up in my head."

IT'S TIME to take our leave of the complicated, challenging Katie Jane Garside. She smiles when our time is up, but insists she enjoys having her psyche probed. I've a final simple equation for her: Katie Jane Garside = Mad. Agree or disagree? "What do you think?" I'd say 'No'. But I think I could sit here for 10 hours and not get to the real you. It's hard to tell whether Katie is pleased or displeased with this response. "Okay, I'd most definitely put a big fucking huge 'X' beside that equation," she responds after another lengthy pause. "The idea of being mad is madness itself. I could never allow that. What I do might cause more chaos than resolution, but I'm completely fine with that."

Paul Brannigan

[perexcri]

there’s nothing more cruel than to be loved by everybody but you - [byler week - day 5]

yeah so i thought this fit the secret identities thing until i wrote it and realized it uhh. isn’t quite that. so enjoy whatever this is i guess - lots of miscommunication and a fun set-up for potential enemies to lovers

also it’s my personal headcanon that Will is a music snob, so if you don’t like that then uh,,,,i guess skip this one idk

title from: wilson (expensive mistakes) by fall out boy

dedicated to: the listening party for fall out boy’s new album that i went to last week in a city an hour away from me; i came up with this stupid idea on the drive there! indie record store in [city redacted], you were very nice, and thank you for having a decent selection of poetry i could pick from :]

Don’t ask Will how this ended up being his job, because he honestly doesn’t know. One day, they had a meeting for the university’s queer artists’ zine where he was complaining about everyone’s responses to the new U2 album (yes, it sounds different from other U2 albums, but obviously if you look at the lyrical and metatextual themes of Achtung Baby, it’s still very much U2), and then BAM–suddenly he’s in charge of doing the cover art for the zine and writing music reviews.

Sure, he could probably turn it down, but nobody else will take the job.

Also, he’s pretty sure they wouldn’t do it right, because, as much as he loves this group, their music tastes are…well…not everybody has an older brother like Jonathan Byers who makes sure they grow up with proper music opinions.

So, if anything, Will does this to keep the spirit of reviewing and recommending underground artists in New York City alive for the zine, and also because he doesn’t think anybody else could do it justice, no offense to them.

But Will is loathing this job for their upcoming edition. He’s sitting in that weird liminal time between class periods where people are in the chaotic throes of rushing around or throwing their notebooks open to prepare for the lecture; his elbows are pressed into the desk that’s just a little too small, and his head is in his hands. He’s staring down at the one submission he’s been putting off for precisely three semesters, because the president of the zine said it needed to be done before they moved on to new submissions, so could you please just lower your standards for one night and go listen to them play so you can write the damn review?

The Fellowship of the Ring, the submission card reads in faded pencil. Scratched under it in the slightly-fresher ink of the zine’s president’s pen, it reads: Thursday - The Purple Hall - 8 PM.

And, God, Will wishes this show was just gonna be a live reading of the Tolkein book. It would be so much better than what he knows it actually is.

The Fellowship of the Ring is a local, up-and-coming act in the underground venues of the greater New York City area that everybody loves because they sound like Nirvana and, you guessed it, throw out Tolkein references like they’re Led Zeppelin. They’re huge on college campuses, where students pass around live-recorded tapes of their supposedly-legendary performances all the time, gushing about how even the bass sounds, the peeling shrieks of guitars, the way the vocalist wavers between grumbles and ethereal, falsetto howls. They even gush about the lyrics and how they truly capture the experiences of Western youth in these first few years of the new decade: malaise, boredom, this sense that there is no great struggle for the future left for them, only an endless drowning in comfortable excess.

Will had even seen a girl with the band’s logo tattooed on her shoulder.

Which is…fine. He guesses.

If you like shitty music, that is.

See, that’s the fundamental problem here: Will likes doing these silly little reviews for live music around New York because half the time, the music is passably decent, and even if that doesn’t work, the lyrics can make up for it. There’s so much creativity in the air, and people are doing so much with it.

Not The Fellowship of the Ring, though.

Where everybody else sees innovation, Will sees reductivity; where everybody screams about the charm of the lyrics and the pop culture references they sneak in, Will sees a demeaning pandering to an audience. Every single time he has been subjected to the squawks and out-of-tune guitars of The Fellowship, he’s spent his time thinking he would be better off to save himself the time and just listen to Nirvana’s Nevermind for the millionth time, because that’s all The Fellowship’s trying to do, anyway, and at least then Will could listen to something good.

Yeah, Will hates The Fellowship of the Ring, and now he’s squeezing his temples so hard that the letters on the submission card are beginning to swim in his vision.

“Hey!”

Thankfully, Will is saved by his very friendly, incredibly good-looking neighbor in History of the American Constitution, Mike Wheeler.

“Hey!” he says, trying to gain back the energy that seeing The Fellowship’s submission card had unwittingly drained out of him.

And honestly, seeing that flash of Mike’s smile and how the fluorescents dance in his eyes, Will feels like he has enough energy to power the sun now, even if they are going to have to sit through yet another lecture about Article II–whatever the hell that means.

“What’s got you so down?” Mike asks, head tilted to the side, some of his hair tumbling into his eyes, and all Will wants to do is push it away–

But, no, he has to have a coherent conversation right now, so he shakes his head and tries his best to return Mike’s smile. “Oh, nothing…Just something for that zine I work on.”

“Oh, yeah!” Mike snaps his fingers, causing some of the buttons on his jacket to rattle together. He always wears a leather jacket no matter the weather or the rest of his attire, and today, paired with plaid pajama bottoms, held-together-by-duct-tape converse, and a baggy Care Bears shirt, it shouldn’t work, but in Will’s eyes, it does. “I think I saw one of those around! I wanted to grab a copy, but somebody else did before I could get to it.”

“I can bring you a copy of the next issue,” Will says, then, remembering the task at hand, groans and puts his head back in his hands. “That is, if I even survive it.”

“What, are they making you skip classes for it?”

“No, worse: they’re making me listen to a band I hate.”

Mike winces. “Yikes.”

“Yeah.”

“That sucks.”

“Right?”

“Can’t you just, like…push it off?”

“I did. For three semesters.” The professor wanders in with a mumbled greeting and a steaming cup of coffee in hand, and Will lowers his voice in anticipation of the lecture beginning. “That’s why I have to do it now.”

“Maybe it would help if somebody went with you?”

Despite having flirted with each other mercilessly all semester during this one shared class of theirs, they haven’t hung out much outside of it, so to be faced with the possibility of something that could potentially be labeled as a date between them is shocking. For a moment, Will can forget about the future torment awaiting him Thursday evening at The Purple Hall’s listening stage, and he thinks that maybe, just maybe, having somebody to talk to over the drone of the lazily-played guitars could make the evening slightly more bearable.

“Yeah,” Will finally says, a grin stretching across his face. “Of course. Yeah, that’d be awesome!”

Mike returns the look twofold, and one of his legs begins to bounce. “Awesome! When is it?”

As the lecture begins, Will resorts to a torn piece of notebook paper, like he’s a kid passing notes in class again to survive the boredom. He scribbles The Purple Hall - Thursday 7 PM, then hands it to Mike, who responds with a quizzical look at the paper, scratches something out, and hands it back to Will.

The Purple Hall - Thursday 7 PM 6?

Will shoots him a thumbs up, prays it wasn’t too awkward, and then folds the sheet of paper up and sticks it in his pocket.

And if he carries it around there for the rest of the week, then that’s his business alone.

---

The pros: this is one of Will’s favorite music venues, there’s several bands to look forward to tonight, and Mike seems wholly invested in the idea of this being a date, if him leaning closer and the playful hand on Will’s knee mean anything.

The cons: Will has to listen to the fucking Fellowship of the Ring in approximately ten minutes.

He’s able to put the thoughts off for the first hour. After all, The Fellowship isn’t set to perform until 8–he and Mike had met at 6 as planned, and Will has spent the first hour and a half trying to be blissfully unaware of the torturous fate awaiting him.

Even as his skin begins to crawl at the thought of having to hear those plucky, out-of-tune guitars and the lead singer screeching about the Gulf War under the guise of Star Wars references, he does feel a little settled. Mike’s fingers are surprisingly warm, and the alcohol they’ve been nursing makes his chest glow with warmth. It’s easier to laugh, to be focused solely on Mike and these wonderful, looping conversations they’ve found themselves ensnared in.

“This one’s good!” Mike half-shouts over the drum solo of the current act, consisting of just a drummer and a bassist crooning over their heady rhythms. They’re called the Jazz Squares, or something like that. Whatever.

At least they’re not The Fellowship.

“The drink or the band?” Will queries. His own head’s spinning with the beer he’s been sipping on for the better part of an hour, and he already feels lightheaded, because he’s a lightweight, and Mike’s got something to do with these pulses of courage thumping in his chest, right?

“Both!” Mike takes another long sip from his Jolly-Rancher-blue mixer. Will had asked him what was in it earlier, and all Mike had responded with was Coconut-something and a whole lot of rum!

They’ve talked about so much already–their families, their majors, their hobbies. Mike comes here a lot, he reveals, and he mentions that he plays guitar, too. He keeps it a playful secret when Will asks for more information, though: how long have you played? Do you write, too? Are you in a band, because I could put you in the zine if you wanted–

It’s a surpriseee, Mike had drawled in response, a stupid grin twisting his mouth as his fingers had vacated Will’s knee momentarily just to ruffle through Will’s hair.

As the Jazz Squares’ set finally dies down to some spotty applause (this is more of an alternative scene, after all, but a gig is a gig), Will lets out a groan, melodramatically knocking his forehead into the table, and finally drags out his notebook.

“What’s that for?” Mike asks, eyebrows high on his forehead.

“For that review I have to do,” Will grumbles.

“But isn’t that act on in, like, two hours?”

Will blinks a couple of times. He supposes he hadn’t actually told Mike which group he was here for, but he thought the fact that he originally proposed a meet-up time of 7 would have communicated enough that it was somewhere around then. “Um, no? I didn’t say anything, I guess, but I think they’re up next.”

Mike’s fingers begin to nervously tap on what remains of his electric blue potion. As his and Will’s gazes snag together for several heady seconds, he purses his lips, then throws back the rest of his drink, swallowing the last of it in just a couple of gulps.

Will slowly draws his notebook out, flipping to the page he had specifically marked The Fellowship of the Ring with a disheartened, frighteningly life-like frowny face scrawled next to it. “Is something wrong?”

Mike drags his wrist across his mouth, smearing any remaining drops of blue onto his leather jacket’s sleeve. “So this band you hate that you have to review…It’s The Fellowship of the Ring?”

“Yeah.” Will taps the top of his paper. “I didn’t say anything, but…Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“Um.”

Will quirks an eyebrow up. “I mean, do you like them? That’s fine, of course, I mean–people have different tastes and what-not. I’d just have to seriously question your judgment in all matters music-related, I guess.”

“Um,” Mike repeats, fingers now tapping a dangerously fast staccato against their bartop table. It makes the remaining beer in Will’s bottle slosh around. “Um…This is bad.”

“What? Are you a super fan or something?” Thanks to the alcohol, Will feels bold enough to scrunch his nose up with disgust. “I mean, fine, whatever. But seriously, if you want a second date, I’m gonna take you to a record store so you can hear some actually decent music. If you’re impressed by that fucking band’s reductive bullshit, you’ll be positively amazed by a group like The Clash or Smashing Pumpkins or–hell, even fucking U2–”

“Excuse me!” the MC calls over the mic; when the feedback whines, he takes a second to tap at the mic, then announces: “Calling everyone’s favorite up-and-coming group, The Fellowship of the Ring, for soundcheck–their set starts in five!”

The club erupts into raucous cheers. Will has to hide the involuntary groan of annoyance he lets out behind his hand.

Mike casts a nervous glance at Will, then pushes his chair out and looks like he’s going to walk away, the buttons on his jacket clicking together. He nearly trips over the saggy laces of his converse, and through the tears in his jeans, he almost looks like he’s shaking.

“Hey, wait!” Will says, reaching forward and grasping Mike’s wrist. It makes the other guy stop, a blush creeping up into his cheeks, and Will tries to push down his distaste for the band and lets out a sigh. “Listen, I’m sorry–I was being stupid. It’s just a band, after all. If you like them, that’s fine, and I will…” he swallows here, and it hurts, taking on this insurmountable task of trying to push his music-snob’s pride down. “I won’t make fun of you for it. I promise.”

Mike blinks a couple of times before a reassuring grin overtakes his features. “Uh…Nope. That’s okay, Will. It’s not for everyone. I wasn’t like…trying to run out on you or anything.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I’m still gonna be here.”

“Then why are you getting up?”

Mike points at the stage, where a drummer and bassist are setting up their instruments, their eyes scanning the room in search of their infamous guitarist and singer. “Didn’t you hear? We have soundcheck. The set starts in five.”

Will slowly nods. “Yeah. Then the next act starts, and I have to scratch down whatever notes I can think of for them, and then we can get back to our date.”

Mike stares at him for several seconds.

And then it all catches up with Will.

“Oh, shit–”

Mike’s grin turns into something playful, his eyebrows shooting up beneath his bangs. “Can’t wait to read your official review of my fucking band’s reductive bullshit!” he says with a two-fingered salute, then spins around to make his way to the stage. He’s bathed in the dim lighting of the stage, hunching over his guitar the second he straps it around his chest, and Will wonders how somebody who was brave enough to wander around in a leather jacket and a fucking Care Bears shirt and look that good could be involved in a band that’s just–

This bad, Will finishes for himself as Mike strums his first cord, its electricity shaking the walls of the club, and he begins yet another signature Fellowship song that’s nothing more than various John Hughes and horror movie quotes juxtaposed over warring drums and guitars.

Of course Will would be stupid enough to fall for the lead singer of his most-hated band in the greater New York City area.

[black-arcana]

Watch: SCORPIONS Joined By DORO For 'Big City Nights' Performance At 2024 WACKEN OPEN AIR

German hard rock legends SCORPIONS were joined by Doro Pesch for a performance of their classic song "Big City Nights" this past Thursday, August 1 at the Wacken Open Air festival in Wacken, Germany. Fan-filmed video of Doro's appearance can be seen below.

During an April 12 appearance on SiriusXM's "Trunk Nation With Eddie Trunk", SCORPIONS guitarist Rudolf Schenker confirmed that there was no more talk of retirement within the band, as there was back in 2010 with what was purported to be a final album and a farewell tour that never quite took hold. He said: "You have to think about that what we didn't know when we made [that] farewell tour [almost 15 years ago], it was exactly the time when WhatsApp came up, when all this new technology [on the] Internet came, that people watching the SCORPIONS on WhatsApp and seeing young kids between 16 and 24 or whatever, [they were] finding [out about] the SCORPIONS. So, and what was happening on the final tour, on the tour, kids were in front of the stage. We said, 'What's happening here?' The older [fans] were up in the balcony or whatever, and we said, 'Hey, it's a complete new feeling on stage.' So then 'MTV Unplugged' came and then we said, 'Hey…' The chemistry was right, no question about this. That's a very important point, when the band has a great chemistry. And then you have fun when you go on the road."

Last September, Rudolf also seemingly dismissed any talk of possible retirement but acknowledged that SCORPIONS would not be able to continue indefinitely. The 75-year-old guitarist told Vikram Chandrasekar of Tales From The Road: "It's not a never-ending road. The road will be finished sooner or later; it's up to you and to our gods. But in 2025, that could be a great time for our 60th anniversary. 2025, it's the time when SCORPIONS is 60 years old. So, then, to celebrate 60 years of SCORPIONS could be a possibility, because I'm in contact with our very old drummer, who was playing on [SCORPIONS' 1972 debut album] 'Lonesome Crow', and the bass player, and use them also on stage to see the different kind of states we went through. Because we are very much connected still in all the different musicians, and that shows again, when we can make it, that music is always there for making friendships."

Back in May 2022, SCORPIONS singer Klaus Meine told Jorge Botas of Portugal's "Metal Global": "We scratched that word [retirement] out of our [vocabulary]. It's not there. We don't think about it and we don't talk about it and we take it as it comes.

"We're just growing older and we do what we do and we hope our fans enjoy it as much as we do," Klaus continued. "But who would have thought we're still around after celebrating 50 years of being recording artists — our first album came out in 1972 and now 'Rock Believer' looks like it hits the big time with the fans and so many positive reviews from all over the world. And after all these years, who would have thought? And it's a wonderful thing.

"But all we know is [that] the road ahead is way shorter than what's behind us," Meine added. "And we never take it for granted — we never take success for granted. We work hard on what we do because we still love it and we still enjoy it. But it's what it is. And I think every artist knows what I'm talking about, because to go out there, play a great show for the fans and not let 'em down, it takes a lot of preparation, takes a lot of work. And being the singer, you try to make sure your pipes are in a good condition.

"It's a lot of things," Meine said. "And we don't know what the future will bring. Take a look at the next corner, and you never know what's going on. But right now, life is good. We have a great new album out there. And we have a lot of fun. We enjoy it."

Meine previously discussed SCORPIONS' aborted retirement in a 2018 interview with SiriusXM. "The thing is we have a much different view now," Klaus said. "And it's a young generation — that's the fuel that keeps us going, and it's really motivating.

"To be honest, every other year, you take a look around the corner: 'Can we do this?' 'Can we still deliver on the same high level, the way we used to do it?'" he admitted. "And that's the only way, and it's only fun if you can go out there and play a great rock show, wherever you do it. Like in the last couple of weeks, we had so much fun. But then you get sick on the road, like I did last year with the severe laryngitis. What can you do? There's not a chance. And then sometimes, of course, you ask yourself, 'How long can we do this?' Especially for singers — and I know I'm not the only one. But it's always, sometimes you ask yourself, 'Klaus, c'mon, how long can you keep up this level?' And then you go out there, everything feels good."

Circling back to SCORPIONS' 2010 "farewell tour" announcement, Klaus told SiriusXM: "Of course, we had our moment of doubt when we said, 'Okay. Maybe we should retire. Maybe this is a good moment.' And then we realized we were wrong, because there's still a lot of sting in the tail, so to speak, and it still feels good. There's such a demand for the SCORPIONS, and we're one of the few bands who play this global stage. If there wasn't this kind of demand, of course, there's no point after so many years, and you'd better go, 'Well, I go home and take it easy.' But there's such a strong demand and that really feels good and challenging — it's a challenge. Of course, you don't do it for the business. It's a good business, yes, but you don't do it for the business and for the money — you do it for the fun, you do it for what's inside of you, what's in your blood, what's in your veins, and that's the rock and roll music. And you wanna go out and play in front of an audience, because that's what it's all about."

SCORPIONS' only continuous member has been Schenker, although Meine has appeared on all of the band's studio albums, while guitarist Matthias Jabs has been a consistent member since 1978, and bassist Paweł Mąciwoda and drummer Mikkey Dee have been in the band since 2003 and 2016, respectively.

SCORPIONS' latest album, "Rock Believer", was released in February 2022. The album was recorded primarily at Peppermint Park Studios in Hannover, Germany and was mixed at the legendary Hansa Studios in Berlin, Germany with engineer Michael Ilbert, who has earned multiple Grammy nominations for his mix work with producer Max Martin on albums by Taylor Swift and Katy Perry.

[fantastickkay]

Album Review of the Week: Cher - Backstage (1968)

1968's Backstage is Cher's fifth album and first commercial failure. The album and its two singles failed to chart at all. While it is not specifically noted, this may also be the beginning of the end for husband Sonny Bono being her main producer.

This is an album of covers, and while most have great vocal delivery, some leave me scratching my head as to why the song was chosen at all in the first place!

We start on a high note with Go Now. This is a great track, perfect for any strong vocalist - like Cher. The instrumentation is a little too much, very whimsical and does not really match the mood of the song. Lots of organs, indicative of the times. Her vocals, as great as they are, could have been mixed better. It sounds like they were recorded on a rather cheap microphone. There are points where they suddenly become quite loud.

Carnival (Manha de Carnaval) is another gorgeous tune. I really enjoy the soft guitar - this time, the music matches the tune. This has a really nice lounge feel (although the vocals are mixed a little loud, again).

It All Adds Up Now brings up the tempo. I especially enjoy the vocals on this track, we get some nice flourishes here and there!

Reason To Believe has some great violin going on! Makes an otherwise boring ballad fun to listen to!

Here comes the sitar! Masters of War makes use of the instrument that The Beatles had popularized for the West. Is it executed well? No, not at all. One short riff is repeated throughout and the vocal melody/mixing actually makes it rather irritating to listen to. Lyrically, it is a pretty good anti-war song, complete with threats of violence! This is very of its time in a not-so-good way.

In a crazy pivot, we end side 1 with a cover of The Lovin' Spoonful's Do You Believe In Magic? It has a subdued tone that I enjoy, her vocals are mixed better in this one and sound great.

Organ vibes are back with I Wasn't Ready, although they are done much more tastefully this time! While Cher sounds good, this does sound more like a rough vocal demo than a finished product.

A House Is Not A Home is a pretty ballad and quite well done in comparison with the rest of the album. The strings are gentle and Cher's vocals are lovely.

Take Me For A Little While was one of the singles. I can understand why radio did not embrace the track. It's fine, but is not on par with what was popular at the time nor interesting and different enough to break the mold. I do really enjoy the chorus, however. The vocal layering sounds really nice!

The Impossible Dream (The Quest) is a very popular song that has been covered numerous times over the years. (Most notably by Niles the Butler in the Nanny, just kidding!) This version is nice, but there is not really anything special about it.

According to Google, The Click Song is a traditional song of the Xhosa people of South Africa. Why Cher did a song in an African language baffles me. Even worse, it was the lead single for this album!! Obviously, I'm sure, I don't know this language well enough to judge her delivery although some YouTube comments are quite scathing.

The album closes with Song Called Children, a whimsical ballad. Once the instruments really kick in, the song is quite cute. Has some nursery worthy instrumentals, although it kicks back and forth from slow to fast at a dizzying pace. At times it is a slow piano ballad, then the fast violin kicks in every so often.

While Cher's vocals are quite good, the mixing, overall production and song selection help me understand why this album did not do very well. Go Now, It All Adds Up Now and Do You Believe In Magic are the only real standouts.

[doomedandstoned]

SATIVA ROOT Muster Thunderous Groove For ‘Kings of the Weed Age’

~Review by Billy Goate~

Artwork by Armin Schweiger

Many of us have seen at least one silent movie in our time, probably Nosferatu or maybe even the prophetic Metropolis. On a whim, I decided to take a chance on another silent film one night, and settled randomly on a one-reeler called An Unseen Enemy from 1912. The plot concerned a home assailed by a veiled gunman, and what made it special was long sequences without any title cards. Actors would be talking to each other and I'd be perplexed wondering, "What are they saying now?" Then the most remarkable thing happened: my imagination started to kick in. It was as if I were viewing something happening in a neighbor's house across the street and my mind was scraping to fill in the salient little details.

A similar thing happens when I listen to instrumental metal, whether shorter tracks (The Death Wheelers) or long form compositions (Clouds Taste Satanic): my imagination becomes invigorated in the absence of words. Music, after all, is a storytelling medium. With the right solo, a skillful musician can have their listeners spellbound. Now that's a little harder to do with slower modes like doom, but as many of us have learned from experience there are revelations to be had from investing eartime in the slow 'n' low (think Dopesmoker).

Before us stands 'Kings of the Weed Age' (2023) by SATIVA ROOT from Salzburg, and knowing their point of origin I have to conjecture that there's something special in those Austrian waters, as I've encountered more than a fair share of stellar bands there (Savanah, TarLung, and most recently psychedelic garage rockers High Brian and The Heavy Minds)...not to mention that Salzburg is Mozart's birthplace.

While Sativa Root is a far cry from Wolfgang Amadeus, they are similarly masters of their medium. The record begins with bells ringing ominously through the city square, and one imagines this all happening under an eerie sky lit only by the moon glowing through pregnant clouds. Attention is fixed upon the apocalyptic sounds of The Riffer reverberating across cobbled streets.

Sliding strings grimace and groan, accenting the soft strumming of "Weedotaur." A pensive melody is heard and then two-minutes in crunchy, downtuned machinations are turned loose. Riff and rhythm converge for a theme that's vaguely familiar to the genre, though bands always do it a bit differently. Mammoth Weed Wizard Bastard's "Les Paradis Artificiels" comes to mind, and Sativa Root likewise has a flair for dramatic, even worshipful, moments.

"Megalobong" is dark and towering, with low-end notes hammering out a brooding melody. At 3:15, the mood shifts. The band sputters and fumes, then gets all frustrated and grindy, like an animal scratching off pesky little fleas. By 4:30, smoke is released to emphatic notes of ultimate doom. Out of this the guitar speaks, turning into a furious, glistening monologue backed by some excellent drumming.

Stoner humor is evident in many of the song titles, including "Assassins Weed," where the bells return accompanied by windy streets and the gentle desert plucking. By the end of the two-minute mark, the bass swells with girth, drums burst with sulfur and fire, and twin guitars weave and dodge like rivers of lava. The longest of the six tracks, this near 13-minute behemoth had me gazing back at the album cover art -- both are quite ominous.

Sativa Root and Doomed & Stoned have a history spanning 10 years, when we reviewed their first EP. Then in 2018, I did a big piece on their debut full-length Oneiroid. It's good to have them back (now a four-piece) for a second full-length, which boasts six tracks for about 55 minutes of runtime. Their music is more than just heavy, it's consequential. And, yes, it would make a damned fine soundtrack for many a silent film.

Give ear...

Kings of the Weed Age by Sativa Root

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[krispyweiss]

Album Review: Grateful Dead - Wake of the Flood: The Angel’s Share

Given all the difficulty Phil Lesh had when trying to teach “Unbroken Chain” to his bandmates, it’s no surprise the Grateful Dead ignored the song for more than two decades before finally playing it live in 1995.

Fans were ecstatic when the song finally made it to the stage. But, truth be told, the Dead had as hard a time with the “Unbroken Chain” in ’95 as they did in 1973.

The group began working on what was known as “Phil’s Song” during sessions for Wake of the Flood. As outtakes released on the digital-only Angel’s Share edition of that LP make clear, Lesh stumped his comrades with the song’s complexity, causing Jerry Garcia to complain he wasn’t having a good time.

“It’s not supposed to be fun, it’s supposed to be right,” an exasperated Lesh tells the guitarist.

“It turns around,” Lesh had said to the band earlier. “I’m telling you, it turns around so that what was the offbeat is now the one.”

Surrounded by multiple takes of the songs that would make up Wake of the Flood - “Unbroken Chain” was held for From the Mars Hotel - “Phil’s Song” is a highlight. Other insightful gems include the band, with sax player Martin Fierro in tow, poring over the sonic blueprints to construct Keith Godchaux’s “Let Me Sing Your Blues Away” from scratch and the stunningly delicate and intricate ensemble playing across four stabs at “Weather Report Suite” and three earlier takes dubbed “I Am the Rain.”

As with the previously released Angel’s Share editions of Workingman’s Dead and American Beauty, the consecutive iterations of album tracks including ‘Mississippi Half-Step Uptown Toodeloo,” “Stella Blue,” “Eyes of the World” and “Pistol Shot (China Doll)” can grow tedious; mercifully, “Row Jimmy” appears but once.

Donna Jean Godchaux must’ve added her parts toward the end of the recording process as she is a non-factor on this bonus LP, which previews the 50th-anniversary edition of Wake, slated for Sept. 29. Instead, listeners are treated to tentative vocal performances as the band works out the music, paired with chatter, false starts, aborted takes and related ephemera. This makes Wake of the Flood: The Angel’s Share a fascinating one- or two-time listen to the Grateful Dead in raw form. But it’s not something for regular spinning.

Grade card: Grateful Dead - Wake of the Flood: The Angel’s Share - B

9/5/23

[mywifeleftme]

349: Joe Jackson // Look Sharp!

Look Sharp! Joe Jackson 1979, A&M

I have a general sense that Joe Jackson was, at least at one time, a little huffy about how retrospectives on his career focus so heavily on his early new wave records. (Is this true? I dunno, I didn’t get to 349 reviews in this series by sourcing all my claims.) Trouble is, the immature “Angry Young Man” music of his debut Look Sharp! is by some distance the best stuff Jackson ever did, despite the restless stylistic diversity of his later years. Being a man of a certain age myself (43), I can now understand how it would be disheartening to think I’d done my best work as a 22-year-old idiot, the rest of my life perceived as a failure to maintain that standard. On the other hand, I haven’t done any “best work” as yet, and the prospects of ever doing so are starting to seem remote…

You can never be sure how much artists are blowing smoke when they tell you to your face/screen that they think their new album is better than their most popular classic, but when that classic is as good as Look Sharp! is…ah, Jackson’s gotta know right? I often forget just how much punch the record packs before it makes its way back on to my table, but then I drop the needle and start to seriously wonder whether there was a better top-to-bottom record by any of the singer-songwritery new wavers—Lowe, Parker, and Costello very much included. It’s that undeniably heavy Costello influence that probably especially galls Jackson, as this is essentially a punked up, Vox organ-free refinement of Elvis’s first two records. But by ’79’s Armed Forces (released just weeks before Look Sharp!), Costello had already essentially abandoned that sound, and no one before or since scratched that My Aim is True itch like Jackson and his band do here.

The Joe Jackson Band gives the Attractions a run for slick, compact punch (especially superhero bassist Graham Maby), moving adeptly from sophisticated ska pop (“Fools in Love”) to jagged new wave (“Look Sharp!”; “Happy Loving Couples”) to thrashing pop punk (“Got the Time”; “Throw It Away”). Though it’s not my favourite song on the record, there is something slightly brain-busting about the existence of “Is She Really Going Out with Him?” on an LP from 1979, given that it could absolutely have come out unchanged in 1997 and been an alternative radio smash. In fact, one thing Joe may have on Elvis is that (in my opinion) Look Sharp! had more direct influence on a swath of ‘90s band than Costello’s comparatively sour original article: “Is She Really Going Out with Him?” alone contains like the complete DNA of Ben Folds, Weezer, Jimmy Eat World, Sugar Ray (who even had a hit covering it) and much of the guitar contingent from the Now That’s What I Call Music! comps.

349/365

[sinceileftyoublog]

Olivia Rodrigo Album Review: GUTS

(Geffen)

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Olivia Rodrigo had wanted to title her second album "GUTS" since she was making her debut, SOUR, because she was interested in the various colloquial contexts in which we use the word. No, you're not going to find the singer-songwriter's second album on the shelf next to Exhumed's back catalog--referring to entrails is about the only meaning Rodrigo doesn't conjure from the word. She mentions "spill your guts," and the album certainly has the same diaristic quality as her first record. She also brings up the phrase "hate your guts;" lo and behold, at times on GUTS, Rodrigo foregoes the sarcasm and facetiousness of SOUR for full-on diatribes and revenge fantasies. But the connotation that stands out most to me, listening to the record for months after it's now come out, is one of courage. Simply, it takes a lot of guts to make an album like this.

From the start, Rodrigo sets up the unrealistic expectations she's under, physical and behavioral, both as a young woman and as a celebrity. On the Joan Didion-inspired, dynamic and choral "all-american bitch", she sings "I'm grateful all the time / I'm sexy, and I'm kind / I'm pretty when I cry," fully aware that she's encapsulating a caricature more than a real character. Appropriately, she spends the rest of the album contradicting the idea of the ideal feminine. Knowingly regretful, she hooks up with an ex on the stuttering power pop jam "bad idea right?" She's jealous of a "dazzling starlet, Bardot reincarnate" on the layered and ghostly "lacy", her vocals and producer Dan Nigro's synthesizer skyward before they come crashing to a painful, realized whisper. On piano and strings ballad "the grudge", she posits that while "It takes strength to forgive...I don't feel strong." Rodrigo swims in imperfection.

Rodrigo's deep dive into her own humanity, though, sets her up for longer lasting strength. For every lambast of "bloodsucker" and "fame fucker," iconic as they are, there's a line like on "logical" where she sings, "I know I'm half responsible / And that makes me feel horrible." Synth rock standout "love is embarrassing" is especially impressive, as Rodrigo collates all the cringiest things she's ever done--the type that would keep most people up at night--and turns them into a singular anthem of teenage awkwardness. On "making the bed", she realizes that as much as she's resentful of certain aspects of her life, from the toxicity of the music industry to her penchant for social errors due to homeschooling, she has the ultimate agency to change things. She's stated the song was the hardest on the album to write, and the delicate balance between blame and acceptance is palpable. There are even multiple layers to "get him back!" Sure, Rodrigo wants "to meet his mom and tell her her son sucks," but she also wants to reconnect. Otherwise, why would she care?

Ultimately, GUTS has proved to be one of the most rewarding pop records of the year due to its sheer humanism. You can find solidarity in a song like "pretty isn't pretty", a shimmering dream pop standout instrumentally wedged between "1979" and Alvvays, one that decries the extent to which capitalism promotes unrealistic standards, beauty or otherwise. But it's closer "teenage dream" that ensures the album ends not on a bang, but on a relatable wince. Small moments, like the pseudo "you're not from around here" record scratch after the first chorus, build up the unease to emphasize Rodrigo's final moment of self doubt: "They say it gets better / But what if I don't?" Kudos to Rodrigo for putting to words and music what we're all thinking all the time.

[poppletonink]

Review: bad idea right?

The second track of Olivia Rodrigo's sophomore album GUTS is a musical masterpiece of the modern era. Inspired by 90s pop punk, Olivia is undeniably in her Avril Lavigne era, with many parts of the track being reminiscent of Lavigne's Girlfriend. It opens with a record scratching, which immediately alludes to the retro tone that will follow throughout this upbeat, pop piece. The song tells a tale of a patchy relationship between exes - of falling back in love with someone that you shouldn't, so much so the universe tries to drag you away. Olivia discusses drowning out your thoughts for a toxic relationship that probably shouldn't continue; how when she looks at her ex she "can't hear [her] thoughts". She knows that it's a bad idea, but she can't help but ignore all common sense and fall in love with him all over again. It's a tale of stupidity in love and regrets to a catchy, punk beat and arguably the best song of the GUTS album.

[freddie-mercury-rising]

Queen a Day

Day 28: Stone Cold Crazy from Sheer Heart Attack

This song has been called “thrash metal before the term was invented” (by Q magazine). If you have friends who don’t know many Queen songs, and you let them listen to this one, they’ll be floored! It’s fast-paced, almost frenetic, and hard core. I happen to love it. 

For your information, I listen to the Live at the Rainbow 1974 version of this song most of all, because who in their right mind can resist Freddie wailing and spitting lyrics in that tight-black outfit, flicking his glorious hair around and bending and twisting all over the stage? But for this review, I’ll be talking about the studio album version. 

The album version of this song starts heavy. It's guitar moaning and wailing, and scratching. It's frantic drumbeats.

Then, Freddie comes on, with this sort of hard, gritty voice that really does not sound like his usual tone. He's fast. It's almost like he's rapping those lyrics.

"Crazy...stone cold crazy you know!"

BRIAN must be going absolutely ape-shit on the guitar on this. Really, I wonder what he was thinking. Besides just loving doing something so completely different than their usual prog-rock.

Freddie's voice is so unique and let me tell you, I wish I was a fly on the wall during this recording while he tried to sing all those lyrics, at such breakneck speed. SEXY as hell, seriously.

Imagine, the same man sang "Good Old Fashioned Loverboy" and "Killer Queen" also sang this piece of metal.

Get you a guy who can do both.

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Jesse Kivel

Photo by David Katz

Jesse Kivel has been making indie rock music since the aughts, first in the hyper-literate band Princeton with his twin brother Matt and later in synth-dance-y Kisses. Now living in Maine and newly a dad, he recorded his best material yet in the second solo album, Life and Death at Party Rock. In her review at Dusted last month, Jennifer Kelly wrote, “Kivel has suddenly scratched below the surface, finding an unexpected, melancholy beauty in loosely collated daydreams. Life and Death at Party Rock haunts rather than pleases.” Here’s what Kivel has in his listening queue.

Bobby McFerrin — By The Sea

My friend Michael passed me this video years ago and I was just blown away by the talent, skill and concentration displayed in this performance. A lot of times we focus on the recorded version of a song, but in this case, Bobby makes a simple song transform into a technical feat of emotion and beauty.

Oasis — Live by The Sea (full concert)

Oasis was the band that changed everything for me. My brother and I would pretend to be Noel and Liam, snarling and playing Noel’s simple yet powerful solo's. We also snagged all of their live concert videos, including this one. Nothing beats Liam’s swagger in this moment and the energy and excitement this group could bring.

Alessi Brothers — Seabird (live)

This song was on a compilation or mixtape I received a while back. Gorgeous vibes and perfect to play in the early evenings. Also, keeping up with the brother/identical twin theme that has defined my life and creative output.

Linda McCartney — Seaside Woman

One of my wife Zinzi’s favorite songs, this tune has incredibly energy and feel. The lyrics are a touch problematic, and I truly can't be sure that Paul didn't write this one. He is basically singing through the entire thing, and it sounds like his vibe. Regardless, it is a lovely tune and I really like Linda’s solo record.

Beck — Guess I'm Doing Fine: Sea Change

Easily my favorite Beck record. It speaks to some of the natural textures and feelings I was trying to put on my new LP. This record reminds me of visiting a college in Atlanta. I slept over on campus and this record helped me sleep in a strange/unknown environment.

Don Gibson — Sea of Heartbreak

An iconic and classic tune, covered by everyone from Jonny Cash to Van Morrison. Gorgeous and simple, like many of those late 50’s/early 60’s tunes of yesteryear.

Phil Phillips & The Twilights — Sea of Love

I am 38 so most of my friends and peers know the Cat Power version of this. I have love for that cover as it exposed me to the original. I love the crisp and focused way the original is recorded. Eerie and slightly haunting, it is a beautiful tune.

Jesse Kivel — Overgrown Ocean

I would be nothing if not a shameless self-promoter :) This song is about visualizing myself crashing down into Penobscot Bay on a Cape Air Cessna. I wrote the lyrics to this song on my first flight with Cape Air which was incredibly foggy and overwhelming. As we cut through the clouds, an overwhelming calm reached me, and the lyrics are a meditation on death and finding peace with it.

Dennis Wilson — Pacific Ocean Blues

Growing up in Southern California, all I can say is I can relate to Dennis and the blues that often can accompany living in the region. The relentless sun and lack of seasons can really do someone in. Dennis, to his credit, correctly points out over and over in this song that the Pacific Ocean is blue. I appreciate his clear-eyed perception here.

Wilco + Billy Bragg — The Secret of The Sea

Wilco and Billy Bragg both have loomed large in my early musical education. Separately with their early records and then this Woody Guthrie collaboration. My brother and I went to Tulsa to visit Guthrie's museum a few years ago. While the Dylan one was put together more tastefully, I just remember relating to Guthrie as all his notebooks had endless amounts of mundane lists. This captured my heart as this is essentially all I do with my notebooks as well.

[brittanagirlcrush]

I need to rant

So, feel free to totally ignore this but if I don't get this out I will continue obsessing and that's not getting me anywhere.

I'm a writer. Whether I'm good or not is up for debate - I think I am. I write stories I like to read and my grammar/spelling/mechanics are usually pretty good. I've had (mostly) positive feedback on my stories.

I have absolutely ZERO problem if you have a piece of constructive criticism for me. Something doesn't make sense? Something is problematic? I screwed up on the timeline? Cool, let me know. You have suggestions on what I could have done differently? Cool. I'm not saying I'll take these suggestions but I am 100% okay hearing them.

I end up ranting about non-constructive criticism. People who guest comment stuff that doesn't contribute to my growth as a writer or my understanding of a mistake I may have made.

Case in point:

Recently, someone commented about my handling of Santana's ED. Now, I left all of that intentionally vague (like, so vague I probably could have gotten away with not putting a TW for ED but I did so "just in case") for several reasons:

1) I'm not 100% behind the idea that Santana had an ED. I know that's not the prevailing opinion of the fandom but I am more of the opinion that Santana was body conscious (or self-conscious) but not to the point of an ED. I think, and this is simply my opinion, that the fandom locked onto Naya's ED and took whatever was in canon to bolster the opinion that Santana also had one. Yes, there is canonical evidence that Santana had an ED but there is also canonical evidence that she didn't.

B) I have some of my own issues with food and weight so I really didn't want to research and delve into ED. It was one (rather short) scene and I will never mention it again in any of my fics.

HOWEVER,

The person who commented was polite and articulate and I appreciated their criticism.

My only intent was Santana going from too thin/scrawny from poor diet and too much/the wrong kind of exercise to being healthy from eating a healthier diet and exercising more moderately. Thus, the change in her appearance. Working with a counselor was her way of working through all of Sue's brainwashing.

I just felt that Santana would have been self-conscious about gaining weight, not necessarily because of an ED, simply because of who she is and how she was raised.

So, if that commenter is reading this, thank you.

Now, onto the reason for this rant.

If you don't like a song, cool, I get that. Not everyone is going to like every song. Telling me it's a terrible song and seems like my song choices were self-indulgent; not helpful.

Also, Santana sang "She's Mine" ... a country song from 1987 ... I don't think "(Everything I Do) I Do It For You" ...

a number one hit for Bryan Adams (for 16 weeks) in 1991, was featured in the movie Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves,

Oh, wait ... it was also released by Brandy in 1998 on her album Never Say Never (which also featured The Boy Is Mine with Monica - you remember that song, right? Santana and Mercedes sang it together in Season 1) ...

is really that much of a stretch to think Santana MAY know that song.

Whether it's a terrible song or not is debatable.

For the record; most of my song choices end up being totally random.

Saying my writing is "ableist" ... not helpful. I had to look up ableist. Then I had to re-read my fic. And I still have no idea what that comment meant. How was it ableist?

Onto the comment that kind of made me scratch my head:

"The dialog (especially from brittany) reads like a tumblr rant and not at all like natural human speech"

It was a review for The Spaces In Between. I re-read my fic and, I am unsure if the person meant ALL of the dialogue or just Brittany's rant in the last chapter. I will be the first to admit that sometimes I get the voices wrong. But I thought I did okay with TSIB.

If it's just Brittany's rant in the last chapter, then it was exactly what I wanted it to be. A rant. A word vomiting rant of epic proportions. Because Brittany was pissed. Look at her face in IKAG. She was angry and Brittany (oddly, much like myself) doesn't get angry. She gets annoyed or irritated, vents it quickly ("I do love you. Obviously you don't love you as much as I do or you would put on this shirt and dance with me!") and lets it go.

However, long fuses can still be lit. Brittany spent a good portion of Season 3 not talking to anyone but Santana (she even mentions it in Promasaurus). She was pissed and she bottled it up. For Santana. Because Santana needed her. But when those long fuses get lit they will, at some point, explode. The wrong thing, said by the wrong person, at the exact wrong moment and BOOM.

It's not supposed to be coherent and "natural human speech". It's not something Brittany does - Santana does insulting rants - Brittany doesn't. So, when it happens, it's not "natural"; it's angry and messy and very un-Brittany-like. (People are always surprised when I "go off" IRL because "that's just not like you").

Oddly, this "rant" isn't angry. It's annoyed. If you don't like my writing, don't read it. I (mostly) write for me but I know there are seven or ten people out there who enjoy my stuff so I write for them as well. If you have something constructive to say, I'm glad to hear it. If your only goal is to tear me (or, really, any fic writer) down for the sole purpose of upsetting me - I gotta wonder - who hurt you?

Ok. Now that I've vented my spleen about this nonsense, I can get back to my "real" writing.

Chasing the Dream isn't going to write itself (sadly).

[cuttothefront]

Walking Reviews

Tony Touch Presents: The Def Tape

I’m very thankful that the streaming platform algorithms suggest things for folks to listen to cause there would be no way to keep track of what’s coming out. This record was another pleasant surprise. It fully took me back to when Tony Touch first got a major label deal with The Piece Maker series, capitalizing on his success in the mixtape arena.

This feels like a resurrection of that first major label energy, this time with a bunch of Def Jam artists on it. I think I’m still thrown to learn who is on Def Jam these days. I’ve definitely aged out of keeping track. The album starts with a classic Tony Touch tome of “Yes DJs can spit too!” as he’s joined by Doo Wop and DJ Scratch along with Lil Fame and AZ. Redman joins on the next track and the nostalgia continues. Recently separated Jeezy and Rick Ross join for a misguided track next. And then it’s back and forth with loads of guests for the rest. Jadakiss and Freddie Gibbs give brightly inspired rhymes. Dave East & Teyana Taylor do a cute update to All I Need. Conway The Machine and Benny The Butcher do their usual. And the best selection is often combing the hits of the past which adds to the nostalgia aspect. As mixtapes go, it’s a 7/10.

[taraolssons]

okay i’m done with my first listen, here’s a quick personal (and very subjective) review: hello you, body paint, perfect sense, and sculptures of anything goes are my standout tracks atm. i do think this album needs the tbhc treatment, where things settle into place after a few more listens, and you find all the little nuances in the instrumentation and all the lyrics that pop up in your brain at random intervals.

that being said, i don't think the car overtakes tbhc for me, there's just something about that album that scratches a particular itch in my brain. i mean the madlad put a taqueria on the moon, what more could you want?! right now i don't find a whole lot about the car that is truly memorable, i'm not sure where i'd place it on my ranking of all their albums. then again, the rest of their discography has an advantage this new record doesn't, which is time and familiarity. so my true rating will arrive in 6-8 business weeks lol, for now i'd give it a 7/10, maybe?