Saturday, September 20, 2008
The haters are incorrect...
...the new Metallica album, DEATH MAGNETIC is excellent. EASILY the best thing they've done since 1986. More on this later. Going to watch the UO Ducks play on some blue turf now.
KISS vs. EVERYONE ELSE: Really Bad music, pt. 1
In 1978, when KISS played at the Memorial Coliseum in my hometown of Fort Wayne, Indiana my mom wouldn’t let me go. It took a long time for me to forgive her for that, but now I must express my deepest gratitude for her salient decision. You see, KISS is terrible. Awful, really.
Verily I say unto you that I am, fully, a metal apologist. No doubt about it--before Jerry G. and the boys got their hooks into me, I was a proud member of Metal Nation. I am far from being a KISS apologist, however, as they totally suck ass. I have a theory intended to prove that their suckiness isn’t just my opinion, but an objective fact. This corollary is not for the weak of heart, as I’m going to examine some bad--really bad--tunes here. Abandon all taste, ye who enter here.
Here’s the idea: think of the worst song you’ve ever heard. Got one? OK, now think of the worst KISS song you’ve ever heard. 99.99% of the time, the KISS song is worse. Don’t believe me? Read on.
Case 1: "She’s Like the Wind" by Patrick Swayze VS. KISS "Heaven’s on Fire"
Looks like an unfair comparison on paper, doesn’t it? It isn’t--Swayze doesn’t get a pass on this selection from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack. It’s not art, and to my mind the following lines are some of the most obviously hackneyed "poetry" attempted in the late 20th century:
She’s like the wind through my tree
She rides the night next to me
She leads me through moonlight
Only to burn me with the sun
She’s taken my heart
But she doesn’t know what she’s done
Pretty awful, right? Correct, but they don’t approach the level of horror put forth by Gene, Paul, and company. To be fair, the band's use of theological metaphor is rare in KISS land. Heavy-handed to be sure, it simultaneously evokes aspects of both C.S. Lewis' and Anton LaVey's relative humanist stances. In other words, a hamfisted comment on the duality of human sexuality. It doesn't get any more obvious than this:
Feel my heat takin’ you higher, burn with me, Heaven’s on fire
Paint the sky with desire, angel fly, Heaven’s on fire
Not only is the lyrical content suspect, but this has one of the ALL-TIME LAMEST excuses for a guitar solo ever recorded. Not to disrespect the late Marc St. John, but you’ve got to be kidding with that solo. It’s about as exciting as a root canal.
Case 2: "Barbie Girl" by Aqua VS. KISS’ "Lick It Up"
I’m not going to try and convince you that the uber-annoying "Barbie Girl" is anything less than one of the worst songs written by humans. Until squirrels or ferrets can get their shit together with ProTools, consider this to be the exemplar of all that is wrong with modern music. Grating and flat singing? Check. Putrid beats sampled from garbage cans or cash registers? Check. An overwhelming sense of entitlement, combining all the worst parts of materialism, self-centeredness and vapidity? Oh, hell yes.
KISS’ "Lick It Up" was infamous for its debut of the band sans makeup, which is scary enough. Also, their dunderheaded attempt at double entendre is just sad. Hey guys--for that to work, you have to be at least partially sly and imply something, not hit the listener over the head with it. They also get penalized big time for straight up redundancy in this tune as well. I don’t know what else to say, except that Vinnie Vincent is WAY better than Ace Frehley.
CASE 3: "I Saw Red" by Warrant VS. KISS’ "Beth"
I kind of feel bad for taking Warrant to task, as it’s tantamount to beating up on the elderly. Did anyone like them back in the day? I don’t remember, but I do remember this video getting lots of MTV airtime. It is a visual lamentation of a universally demoralizing situation: the emotional pain catching your lover en flagrante delecto with another. Hence, the seeing red and closing the door. Look, Mr. Cherry Pie, stop being such a puss. Get angry, do SOMETHING! Oh my Jeebus this is some serious schlock here:
The great irony of "Beth" is that drummer Peter Criss sings the damn song, and he is easily the worst vocalist in the band. Which is saying something. "Beth" also reached 7 on the Billboard chart and remains the band’s highest-charting single to date. I remember seeing KISS perform this live on the Jerry Lewis Telethon and wondering why they weren’t spitting fire and blood all over the place. Now THAT would have been kickass.
Ya see? KISS is always worse. Now, here’s a completely ridiculous Vinnie Vincent Invasion video for his non-hit, "Boyz Are Gonna Rock." Enjoy!
Verily I say unto you that I am, fully, a metal apologist. No doubt about it--before Jerry G. and the boys got their hooks into me, I was a proud member of Metal Nation. I am far from being a KISS apologist, however, as they totally suck ass. I have a theory intended to prove that their suckiness isn’t just my opinion, but an objective fact. This corollary is not for the weak of heart, as I’m going to examine some bad--really bad--tunes here. Abandon all taste, ye who enter here.
Here’s the idea: think of the worst song you’ve ever heard. Got one? OK, now think of the worst KISS song you’ve ever heard. 99.99% of the time, the KISS song is worse. Don’t believe me? Read on.
Case 1: "She’s Like the Wind" by Patrick Swayze VS. KISS "Heaven’s on Fire"
Looks like an unfair comparison on paper, doesn’t it? It isn’t--Swayze doesn’t get a pass on this selection from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack. It’s not art, and to my mind the following lines are some of the most obviously hackneyed "poetry" attempted in the late 20th century:
She’s like the wind through my tree
She rides the night next to me
She leads me through moonlight
Only to burn me with the sun
She’s taken my heart
But she doesn’t know what she’s done
Pretty awful, right? Correct, but they don’t approach the level of horror put forth by Gene, Paul, and company. To be fair, the band's use of theological metaphor is rare in KISS land. Heavy-handed to be sure, it simultaneously evokes aspects of both C.S. Lewis' and Anton LaVey's relative humanist stances. In other words, a hamfisted comment on the duality of human sexuality. It doesn't get any more obvious than this:
Feel my heat takin’ you higher, burn with me, Heaven’s on fire
Paint the sky with desire, angel fly, Heaven’s on fire
Not only is the lyrical content suspect, but this has one of the ALL-TIME LAMEST excuses for a guitar solo ever recorded. Not to disrespect the late Marc St. John, but you’ve got to be kidding with that solo. It’s about as exciting as a root canal.
Case 2: "Barbie Girl" by Aqua VS. KISS’ "Lick It Up"
I’m not going to try and convince you that the uber-annoying "Barbie Girl" is anything less than one of the worst songs written by humans. Until squirrels or ferrets can get their shit together with ProTools, consider this to be the exemplar of all that is wrong with modern music. Grating and flat singing? Check. Putrid beats sampled from garbage cans or cash registers? Check. An overwhelming sense of entitlement, combining all the worst parts of materialism, self-centeredness and vapidity? Oh, hell yes.
KISS’ "Lick It Up" was infamous for its debut of the band sans makeup, which is scary enough. Also, their dunderheaded attempt at double entendre is just sad. Hey guys--for that to work, you have to be at least partially sly and imply something, not hit the listener over the head with it. They also get penalized big time for straight up redundancy in this tune as well. I don’t know what else to say, except that Vinnie Vincent is WAY better than Ace Frehley.
CASE 3: "I Saw Red" by Warrant VS. KISS’ "Beth"
I kind of feel bad for taking Warrant to task, as it’s tantamount to beating up on the elderly. Did anyone like them back in the day? I don’t remember, but I do remember this video getting lots of MTV airtime. It is a visual lamentation of a universally demoralizing situation: the emotional pain catching your lover en flagrante delecto with another. Hence, the seeing red and closing the door. Look, Mr. Cherry Pie, stop being such a puss. Get angry, do SOMETHING! Oh my Jeebus this is some serious schlock here:
The great irony of "Beth" is that drummer Peter Criss sings the damn song, and he is easily the worst vocalist in the band. Which is saying something. "Beth" also reached 7 on the Billboard chart and remains the band’s highest-charting single to date. I remember seeing KISS perform this live on the Jerry Lewis Telethon and wondering why they weren’t spitting fire and blood all over the place. Now THAT would have been kickass.
Ya see? KISS is always worse. Now, here’s a completely ridiculous Vinnie Vincent Invasion video for his non-hit, "Boyz Are Gonna Rock." Enjoy!
80's albums worth reconsidering
You know all those critcs' lists of essential albums? Sure ya do--they're almost always topped with Sgt. Pepper's, followed closely by various and sundry Stones albums, some Zep, and so forth. I read those lists religiously as a youth, and can say unequivocally they influenced my musical tastes. I'd never have discovered Astral Weeks otherwise, nor likely even know a damn thing about Moby Grape or Gram Parson's Byrds output.
But those lists omit a crucial link of how the current musical environment got to where it is today. So to that end I give you two of the missing links to better assess today's schlocky pop/rock pablum. Bear witness:
Def Leppard, Hysteria (1987) Mercury
It's hard to know where to begin on this disc, so rife is it with Mutt Lange's edited insanity and untasteful rococo production. Is that a drum track, or yet another guitar overdub? Is that even a guitar under all those compressors and Eventide Harmonizers? Clearly, DL had something to prove after drummer Rik Allen lost an arm in a car accident and undoubtedly they proved it: you can make everything sound like Simmons drums if you throw enough compression on it and overdub it a gazillion times. Their reward? Not only one of the biggest hooky tracks ever made by humans ("Pour Some Sugar on Me") but a couple of equally radical production examples that prophecize the digital manipulation of everything from GarageBand to Gorillaz. Oh, and every single tune has Joe Elliot's voice quintupled. Amazing stuff. Seriously, it is. [number of possible ringtones: the whole album]
2 Live Crew, As Nasty as They Wanna Be (1989) Luke Records
What we have here is arguably one of the most offensive yet influential hip hop albums ever produced, delivered by dudes who are (at best) marginal rappers with minimal flow skills and dubious handles. I doubt they even have all of their teeth. But with titles like "Me So Horny" and "The Fuck Shop", as well as my fave deep bass cut, "Get the Fuck Out of My House," do they need them? Not at all: from an innovative and superb double sample of both "Full Metal Jacket" and "These Boots (Are Made for Walkin')" as well as a barely camoflagued Van Halen I rip, this album gets it all going on. I heard this about 17,548 times between 89-91, mostly at parties and it always got things going. I still wouldn't want my mom to catch me listening to it, as the lyrical content is straight-up neanderthal with Casio/Radio Shack 808 kicks. Again, this is unimportant: I'll bet this would still work to get the party going, and as Kid Rock once queried, "who's not down with that shit?" [number of possible ringtones: at least 3, probably at least 10]
Much love to The Melvins
I'm listening to the Melvins' A Senile Animal, and I have to say it is superb. Easily one of their best, with two drummers, even! I know the Melvins aren't everyone's cup of tea, and that's fine. You're either in the Melvins' boat, or awash in the sea of human detritus where you belong--it makes no nevermind to the Melvins.
When I DJ'ed the metal show in college (WVUR 89.1 FM, every Friday from 9pm to midnight, sponsored by Paul's Automotive), we received some borderline unlistenable promos, including the infamous Gluey Porch Treatments (on long-since lost vinyl, of course). This is way before Kurt C. and company ever made a peep outside of Olympia, WA, like '88-'89. Honestly, given the state of underground metal at the time, Matt L., Steve P. and myself thought The Melvins were a joke. Had to be--there was no way a band could (or should) actually play that slow. What the hell? It sounded like Black Sabbath IV played on 16 RPM at the bottom of a swimming pool, a sharp contrast to the oft-spun Slayer, Death, Sodom, Anthrax, Megadeth, Nuclear Assault, Mekong Delta, Voivod, Sacred Reich and all the other thrash stuff we were spinning at the time.
Fast forward to the post-Nirvana Pacific northwest, and everything that entailed as a fan of heavy music living here circa 1994: yep, that'd be grunge. I always liked that those flying the flannel wore their metal influences so proudly on their respective sleeves, if you will. Bafflingly, The Melvins were lumped into this subgenre (more likely from their Aberdeen roots than their musical style). It's around this time that Stoner Witch came out, and something clicked. The Melvins finally made sense: perhaps it was better songwriting or production (since it certainly had nothing to do with their still mostly-unintelligble lyrics), but that disc ripped my head clean off.
Sometime in 1996 (October 8th, according to Wiki), the Melvins played a 3 set monster show at the mighty La Luna. I knew the band allowed taping of their shows and brought a friend's Sony D2 along with a stereo condenser mic to capture the event, but was almost thwarted by doing so by Monqui security. Once I finally got to the front of the throng of (mostly male) concertgoers waiting for admittance, the conversation went like this:
Security Guy: What's in the backpack? Mind if I take a look?
Me: No, not at all...A tape recorder and a mic. I'm gonna tape the show.
Security Guy: You can't bring that in here! That's bootlegging! NOT allowed, dude...
Me: You sure about that? I'm pretty certain The Melvins are OK with it...
Security Guy: (chuckling) Well, you'd have to ask the band...
Me: Oh, sure. That's cool. Take me backstage and I'll ask Buzzo or Crover. Or can I just ask the soundguy, Old School? Look, I'm sure it's OK...
Security Guy: (visibly puzzled)...umm...I dunno, maybe I should hold onto your bag...
I eventually retrieved the soundguy, who set them straight and got the gear back for me. Taped the mic to the post in the middle of the room about 7 feet up and set the db level to -10. It was awesome, but the sound pressure was so intense at that particular location even with the cut it was still incredibly distorted.(**see addendum) Oh well. I guess some of the best musical moments are lost to the ether, never to be heard again, and undoubtedly 3 man gong solo in the third set of this show easily qualifies as one of these. Too bad I was the only one taping the damn thing.
When the Melvins signed to Mike Patton's Ipecac label a few years later and announced their plans to release a 3 album cycle (The Maggot, The Bootlicker, and The Crybaby), one of which would include a set of covers with guest vocalists, I was pretty fired up. I mean, Hank Williams III singing his grandfather's "Ramblin' Man"? Leif Garrett doing "Smells Like Teen Spirit"? Patton and Tool (the whole band) getting all freaky? Wow. The record store where I worked at the time had used copies within about a week of their respective release dates; allowing me to pick up all three on the cheap. Too weird for the general public, and no crossover potential, I guess.
As of 2006, the newest incarnation of the Melvins emerged: two drummers, with Buzzo's interminable Iommi-on-quaaludes guitar playing, and yet another bass player who's unfamiliar. A Senile Animal is a long album, by Melvins standards, but it's one of their best. It contains aspects of The Melvins that make them so original, daring and tight. Experimental enough to place them outside of the mainstream, A Senile Animal contains riffs which make all that shit on KUFO's playlist for the past 10 years sound fake, pretentious, pussified and downright lame by comparison. Check it out. I can't say enough good things about it.
Anyone have any good metal tips for the 2K8? Please advise
**addendum: Loud as it was, The Melvins show holds a very distant second to the loudest show I attended at La Luna: good ol' trip hop weirdo Tricky holds that title, from his Pre-Millennium Tension tour. An incredible show, but so loud the subwoofin' bass moved the organs in my chest cavity with every 808 kick, and gave me motion sickness. I left early, and puked when I walked outside. Seriously. That's some LOUD fuckin' music. However, the all-time loudest show I ever saw (regrettably, without hearing protection--I was 17 at the time) was Yngwie Malmsteen's Rising Force with special guest vocalist Joe Lynn Turner. I'm pretty sure that was how the ticket read, along with special guests Lita Ford and Black 'n' Blue. Anyway, Yngwie's guitar tech couldn't pick up his scalloped-neck Strat for a line check without initiating an endless feedback time tunnel, and I should've known what I was in for right then. A friend of mine, Kevin McD (who later would marry my youngest brother Patrick and his wife, Heather) stood dead center in the front row and was escorted from the show for flipping Yngwie the bird for the first 4 songs, right during the intro to "I'll See the Lights Tonight." Hilarity! My ears rang for about 3-4 days straight after that, effectively rendering the crisp high end of my tender ears a vague memory from that point forward. Ah, youth.
When I DJ'ed the metal show in college (WVUR 89.1 FM, every Friday from 9pm to midnight, sponsored by Paul's Automotive), we received some borderline unlistenable promos, including the infamous Gluey Porch Treatments (on long-since lost vinyl, of course). This is way before Kurt C. and company ever made a peep outside of Olympia, WA, like '88-'89. Honestly, given the state of underground metal at the time, Matt L., Steve P. and myself thought The Melvins were a joke. Had to be--there was no way a band could (or should) actually play that slow. What the hell? It sounded like Black Sabbath IV played on 16 RPM at the bottom of a swimming pool, a sharp contrast to the oft-spun Slayer, Death, Sodom, Anthrax, Megadeth, Nuclear Assault, Mekong Delta, Voivod, Sacred Reich and all the other thrash stuff we were spinning at the time.
Fast forward to the post-Nirvana Pacific northwest, and everything that entailed as a fan of heavy music living here circa 1994: yep, that'd be grunge. I always liked that those flying the flannel wore their metal influences so proudly on their respective sleeves, if you will. Bafflingly, The Melvins were lumped into this subgenre (more likely from their Aberdeen roots than their musical style). It's around this time that Stoner Witch came out, and something clicked. The Melvins finally made sense: perhaps it was better songwriting or production (since it certainly had nothing to do with their still mostly-unintelligble lyrics), but that disc ripped my head clean off.
Sometime in 1996 (October 8th, according to Wiki), the Melvins played a 3 set monster show at the mighty La Luna. I knew the band allowed taping of their shows and brought a friend's Sony D2 along with a stereo condenser mic to capture the event, but was almost thwarted by doing so by Monqui security. Once I finally got to the front of the throng of (mostly male) concertgoers waiting for admittance, the conversation went like this:
Security Guy: What's in the backpack? Mind if I take a look?
Me: No, not at all...A tape recorder and a mic. I'm gonna tape the show.
Security Guy: You can't bring that in here! That's bootlegging! NOT allowed, dude...
Me: You sure about that? I'm pretty certain The Melvins are OK with it...
Security Guy: (chuckling) Well, you'd have to ask the band...
Me: Oh, sure. That's cool. Take me backstage and I'll ask Buzzo or Crover. Or can I just ask the soundguy, Old School? Look, I'm sure it's OK...
Security Guy: (visibly puzzled)...umm...I dunno, maybe I should hold onto your bag...
I eventually retrieved the soundguy, who set them straight and got the gear back for me. Taped the mic to the post in the middle of the room about 7 feet up and set the db level to -10. It was awesome, but the sound pressure was so intense at that particular location even with the cut it was still incredibly distorted.(**see addendum) Oh well. I guess some of the best musical moments are lost to the ether, never to be heard again, and undoubtedly 3 man gong solo in the third set of this show easily qualifies as one of these. Too bad I was the only one taping the damn thing.
When the Melvins signed to Mike Patton's Ipecac label a few years later and announced their plans to release a 3 album cycle (The Maggot, The Bootlicker, and The Crybaby), one of which would include a set of covers with guest vocalists, I was pretty fired up. I mean, Hank Williams III singing his grandfather's "Ramblin' Man"? Leif Garrett doing "Smells Like Teen Spirit"? Patton and Tool (the whole band) getting all freaky? Wow. The record store where I worked at the time had used copies within about a week of their respective release dates; allowing me to pick up all three on the cheap. Too weird for the general public, and no crossover potential, I guess.
As of 2006, the newest incarnation of the Melvins emerged: two drummers, with Buzzo's interminable Iommi-on-quaaludes guitar playing, and yet another bass player who's unfamiliar. A Senile Animal is a long album, by Melvins standards, but it's one of their best. It contains aspects of The Melvins that make them so original, daring and tight. Experimental enough to place them outside of the mainstream, A Senile Animal contains riffs which make all that shit on KUFO's playlist for the past 10 years sound fake, pretentious, pussified and downright lame by comparison. Check it out. I can't say enough good things about it.
Anyone have any good metal tips for the 2K8? Please advise
**addendum: Loud as it was, The Melvins show holds a very distant second to the loudest show I attended at La Luna: good ol' trip hop weirdo Tricky holds that title, from his Pre-Millennium Tension tour. An incredible show, but so loud the subwoofin' bass moved the organs in my chest cavity with every 808 kick, and gave me motion sickness. I left early, and puked when I walked outside. Seriously. That's some LOUD fuckin' music. However, the all-time loudest show I ever saw (regrettably, without hearing protection--I was 17 at the time) was Yngwie Malmsteen's Rising Force with special guest vocalist Joe Lynn Turner. I'm pretty sure that was how the ticket read, along with special guests Lita Ford and Black 'n' Blue. Anyway, Yngwie's guitar tech couldn't pick up his scalloped-neck Strat for a line check without initiating an endless feedback time tunnel, and I should've known what I was in for right then. A friend of mine, Kevin McD (who later would marry my youngest brother Patrick and his wife, Heather) stood dead center in the front row and was escorted from the show for flipping Yngwie the bird for the first 4 songs, right during the intro to "I'll See the Lights Tonight." Hilarity! My ears rang for about 3-4 days straight after that, effectively rendering the crisp high end of my tender ears a vague memory from that point forward. Ah, youth.
greetings and salutations
Welcome to my personal blog for all things ranty, be they musical (most likely), political (sometimes) or personal (rarely). I might post about a great meal, the last poker game I played, or an unknown band's performance. I don't plan to format this too much, and would like to keep things relatively unfiltered.
The blog title is a nod to the legendary album by Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band. I remember reading somewhere that Kurt Cobain and Courtney love used to play it during sexy time, and he believed that in some alternate universe it's sold more copies than "Thriller." I can't really think of a better title for the blog, as I concur.
Initially, I'm going to repost some old blogs from my (albeit rather abandoned and ignored) myspace page and gradually move into the realtime blogosphere. Should be fun; I'm looking forward to it.
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