Last evening, the members of Phish played a few songs at the wedding of the band's old road manager Brad Sands. The quartet played staples "Suzy Greenberg," "Waste" and "Julius." Afterwards, Police drummer Stewart Copeland joined the Wedding Band for a rendition of The Police's "Can't Stand Losing You" and The Meters' "Fire On The Bayou."
A short clip of the festivities has already surfaced on YouTube.
The greatest songwriters that don’t get the credit they deserve:
Liz Phair
Juliana Hatfield
Stephen Malkmus
Jeff Tweedy
Matthew Sweet
Derek Webb
Ben Harper
Tom Waits (most know his songs, few know he wrote them)
Ryan Adams (he’s too often pigeonholed, thus ignoring beautiful way with words)
Elton John (commercial success has not eluded him, but the shear brilliance of his songwriting is rarely acknowledged and often overlooked)
This Is Dylan’s first plugged-in masterpiece. On Highway 61 Revisited he boldly reminds us of the power, the poetry, and the poise that often lies beneath the techni-color tapestry of an electric guitar. He also shows us why the quiet sedation of a single human voice and an acoustic guitar can be achingly poignant, even when the song lasts eleven minutes. Not to mention that the lyrics in every song are a carefully crafted practice in post-modernism.
Rediscover these Songs: “Like A Rolling Stone”, “Tombstone Blues”, “It Takes A Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry”, “Queen Jane Approximately”, “Highway 61 Revisited”, “Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues”, “Desolation Row”.
On Heartbreaker, Ryan Adams revealed a very complex, terribly damaged, and perpetually heartbroken man that continues to define his music even now eight years later. His voice aches with the boredom of disillusion and the unavoidable right of passage that is the agony of loss. As the CD spins and the music reverberates, you can almost smell the whiskey on
Rediscover these Songs: “To Be Young (is to be sad, is to be high)”, “My Winding Wheel”, “Oh My Sweet Carolina”, “Bartering Lines”, “Call Me On Your Way Home”, “Damn, Sam (I love a woman that rains)”, “Come Pick Me Up”, “Shakedown on 9th Street”
Liz Phair
Exile In Guyville (15th Anniversary Deluxe Reissue)
2008 ATO Records
How is it that I let a true American classic like Exile In Guyville ever slip from the front of my consciousness?
This is the album that broke molds, glass ceilings, and male egos all over early-nineties-alternative-rock-crazed-America. Without this album Alanis Morissette would be a “Where Are They Now?” former child star, waiting for Nickelodian to call about the “You Can’t Do the on Television” reunion show. If it wasn’t for Phair releasing this modest masterpiece – Jenny Lewis would still be playing second fiddle to Fred Savage in a 90 minute
Ultimately, all I’m saying is that this is a monumental album and with this release they have mercifully left it alone, mostly. With the exception of adding three songs to the tail-end as bonus tracks, this original indie-masterpiece is left entirely in tact. The raw sexuality in her smoky, deep voice remains affective fifteen years later - as it still radiates from the stereo speakers like that of a jazz singer in purgatory. The piercingly sparse arrangements sound like sanity on the cusp of shatter. And her notably brash lyrics feel torn somewhere between a sexually enlightened, confident woman, and a heartbroken little girl that is drowning in self-doubt.
Unlike most vault raiding collections, I have to admit this modest collection of bonus tracks is impressive. “Ant in
What is wonderful about this re-release though is the inclusion of the documentary Guyville Redux. Produced and shot by Phair herself she spirals back down into the genesis of this groundbreaking album – with absolutely no sense of pretension at all. In fact if anything it seems like the album is a long dissolved relationship that she is trying to reconcile a sense of closure with. The most fascinating part of the documentary is that in interviewing integral figures of the Chicago music scene including members of Urge Overkill and Material Issue, the owners of the iconic Matador Records, Steve Albini, and even John Cusack; they end up telling this album’s story and by extension they end up telling the story of the early 90’s music scene in Chicago.
Previous Albums:
Somebody's Miracle
Liz Phair
whitechocolatespaceegg
Whip Smart
Juliana Hatfield
How to Walk Away
2008 Ye Olde Records
Grade: A-
GPA: 3.6
By: Brent Owen
Juliana Hatfield is one of our most over looked female troubadours. She’s resilient, talented, and mysteriously charismatic. Her eyes stare sultry from behind her trademark red locks, seductively challenging you to come over and fix her.
On How to Walk Away, Juliana writes like a woman who has evolved. And since her career has returned to the indie scene from which she emerged in the late 80’s and early 90’s – this might be the first you’ve heard of her since her one episode story arch on My So Called Life. This doesn’t sound like sinisterly innocent girl that sang “Universal Heart-Beat”, “My Sister”, or “Spin the Bottle”. Her voice sounds hardened, experienced, and more confident – she doesn’t sound like a girl looking for answers, but rather, a woman who has come to terms with answers.
This record does feel like an instruction book where the consistently misunderstood Hatfield imparts value of her experience to anyone who will listen.
As a result of the new found confidence in her vocals, there also seems to be more confidence in her lyric writing as she injects a healthy sense of blunt sexuality into How to Walk Away. While she keeps the songs from getting raunchy or vulgar – but she gets a little bawdy a couple of times. “My Baby…” is a song about a relationship that has been drained of all things affectionate but sustained merely on meaningless sex. The emptiness and boredom with which she sings helps to drive this song’s theme deep into the psyche. And on the song “Just Lust” she writes an ode to the one-night-stand. Her emotional disconnect as the female narrator causes a jarring role reversal that makes the song almost disconcerting. We’re so used to the image of men acting out of lust that it’s almost unsettling to hear a woman singing about acting on the same motivation.
“Such a Beautiful Girl” rings of the beautiful earnestness that a younger Juliana was known for writing. The sparse arrangement, though, doesn’t seem to quite fit with the programmed drum machine that provides the all-to-steady backbeat throughout the song. Although I must say that it’s in this song that I feel Juliana captures her own essence the best when she sings: “She such a beautiful girl and she lives in an ugly world.”
Previous Albums
Sittin’ In a Tree EP (w/Frank Smith)
The White Broken Line: Live Recordings
Made In
In Exile Deo
Gold Stars
Juliana’s Pony: Total System Failure
Beautiful Creature
Bed
Please Do Not Disturb EP
Only Everything
Become What Your Are
I See You EP
Hey Babe
I was beginning to think that all was lost, Pop ruled the charts whether it be pop rock, hip hop, or the dreaded Pop Punk; it seemed that any music that had passion and grace was lost and gone forever. It seemed to have gone the way of the Dodo - but instead it had simply become allusive and improbable like Sasquatch or the Loch Ness Monster. It was there but well hidden. In the midst of this exile, it began to heal and grow again, to gather its strength for a triumphant return. At a time when bands like Fall Out Boy and Nickel Back were considered the “cutting edge of rock”, I seriously thought about taking my cd collection and holing up in a self-imposed exile at my own personal Fortress of Solitude. Only to resurface for the occasional alcoholic beverage and so I can yell at the neighborhood kids, bitterly ranting: “You call that Music?” Luckily for me it didn’t have to go that far. With the advent of music on the Web, wonderful bands can be found at anytime from any home; and not a moment to soon.
With bands emerging onto the scene like My Morning Jacket, J.J. Grey and Mofro, Drive by Truckers, The Hold Steady and Parlor Mob, I think we’re gonna be ok. If you haven’t had the luck to hear these bands yet, I suggest you go to your nearest independent record store or computer and check them out immediately. Along with these relative new comers some old friends have returned to put smiles on our faces and our fists once again pumping in the air. Led Zeppelin finally played a reunion show. Smashing Pumpkins released Zeitgeist; a record that knocked my fucking socks off. The Foo Fighters released their award winning Echoes, Silence, Patience, and Grace. The Black Crows released War Paint, their most progressive a magnificent record to date. And with the demise of one super group, an old favorite has reemerged with the reunion of Stone Temple Pilots. A lot of people might want to give me shit for my excitement over their return but all is fair in love and war; and I can’t lie I still have love for Wieland and co. And of course, there is the band that never really left, Red Hot Chili Peppers; they released Stadium Arcadium, a bold double album that was truly pleasing to the ear. Last but not least Weezer released its third self-titled album (aka “The Red Album”), and it’s currently in heavy rotation anywhere I go. I can’t get “Heart Song” out of my mind - I heart “Heart Song”…
O Shit, here comes Hanna Montana and the Jonas Brothers. The battle maybe won but the war has just begun
by: Chad PerryIf we were only to define an artist’s success by their role in the pop-culture lexicon then our view on all things creative would fit nicely into a little box. And as we all should know by now, nothing truly creative fits nicely into a little box...unless of course that box happens to belong to Pandora.
That having been said; enter: Pink Floyd.
Most people, when asked to name a Pink Floyd album tend to have quick recall based on commercial success, therefore it almost always comes back to Dark Side of the Moon (1973) and The Wall (1979). This means that people often remain oblivious to the seven albums they released before recording the landmark Dark Side album. That record, of course, would launch the band into the stratosphere and begin the most prolific and commercially successful period in the band’s career; but that is not where their story began.
The earlier albums are often overlooked by the careless listener and their singles rarely get any radio airplay, even from stations that claim to be classic rock or album oriented in their programming. I hope that the following musings on the early career of Pink Floyd’s will ignite a desire for some to seek out the origins of these icons.
Let us travel back to 1967 in
Following “Astronomy Domine” is “Lucifer Sam”, an equally compelling song about a mysterious, Siamese cat that is always by your side. The slight tempo changes as well as complex chord progressions are little nuances often overlooked by the casual music fan. And once the song is over, the question still remains: Is Lucifer Sam just a cat, or are you the one that is sitting beside something bigger?
The next two songs are “Matilda Mother” and “Flaming” and they aptly lead us further along on our journey, while continuing to delve into even more absurdist topics. And then we come to “Pow R. Toc H.” a piano based jazz tune that takes the album in a whole new direction; a direction of playful whimsy where anything can happen. The soft trickle of piano notes welcomes us like the slow burn after the first swallow of good scotch. No one is quite sure what the name truly means but we do know that at around the half-way point we are jerked back by that hallucinatory ride that is The Piper. Floyd finds the psychedelia without losing the dark, smoky jazz that welcomed us at the beginning of the song.
“Pow R. Toc H.” is much like the second hill on a rollercoaster, that breath you get at the crest of the second peak, just before once again being sent barreling down into a terrifying free-fall.
It truly is a slight breath right before “Take Up Thy Stethoscope and Walk” sends you hurling down the other side, through the loop and into the flats once again. The driving opening drum line and pop feel will wake up any listener who has truly had an out of body experience and will bring them back to lucidity.
After the awakening, be ready because the ride isn’t over yet. Instead you return to space by way of the musical ship known as “Interstellar Overdrive”. This is an ugly discordant mess that somehow managers to sound like music when logic and reason says that it shouldn’t. It sounds like the members of the band simply picked up their instruments and each began playing different songs at the same time.
Now that you are flung into the deepest reaches of your mind, you will meet Grimble Crumble who is the main character in “The Gnome”. And what do you expect gnomes to do but sit in their homes drinking wine? And once again the formidable question is raised - is this song about a gnome or is it about you?
Now onto “Chapter 24”, this is more of a movement than it really is a song, almost as if it belongs to a larger piece of work. It’s completed in six abstract stages and in the seventh we are returned to the beginning of the piece. “Chapter 24” is by far the trippiest song in the collection as it refers to the cyclical nature of the universe and our inability to break the cycle. The song also raises questions about the truths their parents asked them to blindly accept, such as: change returns success, action brings good fortune, and the fact the nothing can be destroyed completely. After listening to “Chapter 24” everybody should feel better about their position in the cosmos, because we are all part of something bigger.
Finally, “Scarecrow” and “Bike” close out The Piper. These two songs will ground the even best individual. The simple clip-clop sound of “Scarecrow” is reminiscent of the old nursery school songs that we all once knew. And “Bike” begins with the description of a bike that you would like but will never attain. The narrator has no house but does know a mouse named Gerald who just so happens to be a good mouse; and they know a girl that would fit into my world. Finally, the last 30 seconds of the album hurl the listener backward; once again through the wild ride from which they had just come, left to wonder where exactly they might land.
Listen. Enjoy. Take a trip with Pink Floyd and even if no “trip” is taken, you can’t help but follow the hallowed sound of a Piper all the way to the gates of dawn.
The Avett BrothersI'm not sure how The Avett Brothers do it - they make beautiful, irresistible songs that are so achingly personal that you can't help but feel uncomfortable as you squirm in your seat. On the second in the band’s “Gleam Series” of EP’s - there are only six songs but the brothers make every note count. What stands out initially here is that there seems to be a lingering darkness throughout all of the entire collection. But the band wades perfectly through these sparse arrangements by playing their own brand well-honed roots music.
The opening song “Tear Down the House” is an absolutely beautiful piece that takes the listener by surprise. It’s almost alarming as you listen to this kind voice with almost detached glee at his lack of sentimentality. The way he can be so callous but so serene in regards to his own indifference gives the song a palpable tension you might not expect.
By far the darkest of the songs is “Murder in the City”. Lyrically it’s almost a will and testament, giving his family instructions as to what to do upon his death. It’s not so much an alarming suicide note as it is a reflection on one’s own mortality. The last lines of the song are piercing as he leaves the family with these parting words: “And always remember there was nothing worth sharing, like the love that let us share our name.”
If you liked The Avett Brothers’ breakthrough album Emotionalism – then you will love these songs, as the band endears itself to you even more. You won’t find them to be as much fun but more sobering then the last time around, but you’ll still hear the group’s irresistible charm and revel in the morbid direction they have taken here. And if you aren’t familiar with this bluegrass/folk outfit, then you’ll probably appreciate these songs also – but you have to keep in mind that they aren’t always this miserable.
Previous Albums:
Emotionalism
The Gleam
Four Thieves Gone: The Robbinsville Sessions
Live, Vol. 2
Mignonette
A
Beach Boys
Coldplay
Viva La Vida or Death and All his Friends
2008 Capital/EMI Records
Grade: A
GPA (based on buyer ratings from Amazon.com): 3.6
I am secure enough in my manhood to openly admit that I really enjoy Coldplay and I always have really. Admittedly, in my mind they peaked with their 2002 opus A Rush of Blood to the Head, but that doesn’t mean I don’t continue to eagerly anticipate each pending effort with baited breath. Alas here we have it, the much anticipated Viva La Vida or Death and All his Friends. I’m glad to hardily say that: happily that this eclipses their mediocre (at best) 2005 release X&Y, a record that contained only a handful of decent songs and one of which was a hidden track tacked on to the end of the album.
But alas, with the help of the incomparable producer Brian Eno, Coldplay has returned to the looser, more urgent sound of their earlier releases. While X&Y felt polished with a thick coat veneer over each an every note, Viva La Vida feels slightly less controlled…in a good way. As if around any corner one might hear a skipped beat or a wrong note and even if such imperfections never pop up, it’s just nice to think that they might. Now the band certainly doesn’t feel as unhinged and raw as it did on A Rush… but it seems like a nice swing back toward that unfettered direction.
Chris Martin’s voice also seems much more impassioned than it did throughout most of the X&Y snooze-fest. He sounds vibrant, excited, and jovial – not forlorn, miserable, and weary as he did last time around. And his signature piano playing has returned after briefly being replaced by churning keyboards and generic synthesizers. It’s neat to hear a band experiment as they did last time out, but it’s even better to hear them return to what they’re best at once said experiment unmistakably fails.
Lyrically Martin seems to have also returned to the poignant simplicity that he trademarked on the band’s first two albums. “42” is absolutely a highlight, here Martin sings effectively: “For those who are dead, I’m not dead; I’m just living in my head”. And on the chorus he almost taunts his own ghosts when he sings: “You didn’t get to heaven but you made it close”. Then there is a song like “Reign of Love” where Martin’s voice sings with a sad fervor such effortless lyrics as: “Oh, I wish you had spoken up”. This moment of vulnerability hits almost as hard as when he sang the equally straightforward but compelling lyrics: “Take me back to the start” in the band’s classic song “The Scientist”.
While a lot of this album is a return to what the band does best, the swirling guitars on a song like “Yes” shows a band that is still not afraid to experiment outside their comfort zone. In fact this record generally focuses more on the band as a cohesive unit more than any of their previous efforts – Martin is not necessarily on full display from beginning to end here. Sometimes it takes a record like this to be reminded us of how talented each member of the band really is; and that the success or failure of the band does not rely on the most recognizable member, alone.
Eno has perfectly rubbed away some of the polish while still allowing one of the biggest bands in the world to make an appropriately grandiose album. It’s a difficult balance that in lesser hands could have failed. In fact in the Coldplay’s catalogue I have to say that Viva La Vida is second only to the untouchable A Rush of Blood to the Head. For the first time I see the band truly proclaiming itself as an honest musical alliance where everyone’s contribution is an integral part. With Viva La Vida, Coldplay has finally reached the stratosphere where they can justifiably be placed next to other beloved Brit-outfits like The Cure, Radiohead, and The Smiths. Those are bold words, I know; but I have faith in Chris Martin and his comrades.
Previous Albums:
X&Y (2005)
Live 2003 (2003)
A Rush of Blood to the Head (2002)
Parachutes (2000)
Willie Nelson 6/20/2008 Bennett Gordon Hall at Ravinia Festival Grounds,
Grade:
By: Brent Owen
It’s safe to say that there are few singers as prolific as ol’ Willie. There are few singers as resilient as ol’ Willie. And there are few singers as universally recognizable as ol’ Willie. All of these reasons and many more are exactly why everyone should see Willie at least once…he’s an institution. He hasn’t changed in fifty years and probably won’t change for another fifty years because with Willie it’s simply a case of getting what you get.
If nothing else, spending a night with Willie’s songs is kinda like spending a night with old friends. Nights which usually end up filled with lots of drinking, smoking, and pining over lost loves – but then again, what are old friends for?
Nelson takes the stage with his road wary band while the sun is still up. Most of these guys have been with him since at least the mid-70’s; the only exception would be the recent addition of a couple of his children to the line-up: his son is playing guitar and his daughter sings back-up. But once he breaks in to the opening song, his classic “
The band then continued to rip through the many of the countless gems in Willie’s catalogue, at a break-neck pace. They did faithful renditions of “On the Road Again”, “Always On My Mind”, “Ain’t It Funny How Time Slips Away”, “Crazy”, and “Blue Eyes Cryin’ in the Rain”. Willie also played some of his favorite duets “Whiskey for My Men (beer for my horses)”, “Mamas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Cowboys”, and “Good Hearted Woman (in love with a good timin’ man), of course these were sung without his partners Toby Keith and Waylon J
ennings respectively. But at 75, Nelson still has the uncanny ability to sing each song as if a day hasn’t passed since their initial recording. His voice is still affectingly thin and sweet, a
nd yet there is toughness to it that garners a certain respect from the most rigid of men.
Willie and
Með Suð í Eyrum Við Spilum Endalaust (translation: With a Buzz in Our Ears We Play Endlessly)
2008 XL Records
Grade: A-
GPA (based on buyer ratings from Amazon.com): 3.6
By: Brent Owen
The Icelandic collective that is Sigur Ros has become one of the most well respected bands in the industry and they’ve barely sung a word in English. It just goes to show that with albums this good the words don’t matter, because sentiment still seeps through.
The atmospheric feeling of Med Sud… paints countless snapshots of the band’s native land in the mind’s eye. These musical landscapes are so vivid you can almost reach out and touch snow crested hilltops, wind blown plains, and a dusk filled horizon frayed by the rippling tides.
The majestic radiance of this album is that it flows like an opera – from track to track we are taken from movement to movement feeling like someone is singing notes that were written down centuries ago. The perfectly suited crescendo comes with “Ara Butur” where it begins subtly with just a piano and a voice, but slowly and surely the tension builds until the song explodes into an exuberant climax featuring the London Symphony and the choir from the
This truly is a beautiful album and is very affecting in that fact alone, and while it proves that we can be moved without knowing the words – it would be nice to know at least what the words mean. Not that I want them to sing in English, but I wouldn’t mind seeing an English translation of the lyrics in the liner notes. There are times that you want to know if the emotion you pick-up from the song is at all accurate to what the singer is trying to convey.
So ultimately, while this album is touching and gorgeous there is still a part of me that longs to know what these beautiful voices are actually singing about. Beyond that I recommend you put this record on, close your eyes, and take a voyage to unknown lands with Sigur Ros at the helm.
Tom Waits
The Lemonheads
Robert Plant & Alison Krauss
6/18/2008 - Bennett Gordon Hall at Ravinia Festival Grounds, Highland Park, IL
Grade: Wow
By: Brent Owen
As the lights in the pavilion were dimmed, as the day slowly faded into night, and as Robert Plant and Alison Krauss took the stage; Bennett Gordon Hall was quickly and silently transported to a musical Neverland. Through the soft veil of dusk the band eased into the opening chords of the first song, “Rich Woman.” It became immediately evident that Krauss’ voice was as strong as an ox but as gentle as a lamb – she compliments everything and overpowers nothing. Then there is Robert Plant. The soulful voice of Led Zeppelin was in top form as his mystical voice blended perfectly with the fanciful tales of blues, gospel, and roots music that the top notch band was spinning from the stage. Plant truly is Rock n’ Roll’s Peter Pan.
The beautifully flowing set was filled with most of the Raising Sand album that the two recorded last year and peppered with reworked versions of some classic songs taken from both of their timeless catalogues. Their new rendition of the soulful, guitar heavy “Black Dog” is nearly unrecognizable in this arrangement – it’s slowed down to 
¼ time and Jimmy Page’s imitable guitar riff was replaced by a ghostly banjo line that reverberated long after the house lights came up. The band rumbled and rolled right through an energetically subdued rendition of “Black Country Woman” that was without question a highlight of the set. And the upbeat fan favorite “The Battle of Evermore” worked wonderfully as Krauss offered a sweet harmony to Plant’s classically sinister wail. Krauss and multi-instrumentalist (and music virtuoso) Stuart Duncan played a fiery, dueling fiddle solo on “Evermore” which ended up being a compelling replacement for an old-fashioned guitar solo.
When they played Tom Waits’ “Trampled Rose” the music slowly dripped down the nonexistent walls of the ampitheater like the legs of a good wine swirled inside a long stemmed glass. It was about ¾ of the way through the set and any remaining fragments of sunlight had long disappeared when Krauss started singing the gospel classic “Down in the River to Pray” from the O’ Brother Where Art Thou? soundtrack, a cappella. At this point everyone in attendance fell into a fragile hush that was as capable of cracking with each passing note as her soft and impassioned voice seemed to be. For that moment even the trees stopped rustling out of silent reverie. By the time they got around to playing their latest single, “Please Read the Letter”, Plant and Krauss’ increasingly interconnected voices had become a single resolute voice.
The humility of both renowned singers was apparent, if for no other reason than their constant willingness to let the road-tested band of Nashville’s finest, led by the incomparable T-Bone Burnett, to be on full-display throughout the entire set. It was their handling of the delicate mood changes within the music, from organic to lavish or moody to euphoric (sometimes all in the confines of a single song) which proved that this couldn’t have been done with just any ol’ group of musicians, there is definitely a special chemistry between these players. Burnett has certainly put together an ensemble that compliments one another like they’ve been playing together since birth.
Unfortunately though, we can’t stay in Neverland forever – we must return to our shadows and face the ever looming promise of age – but getting to hang-out with Robert Plant, Alison Krauss, and their musical band of Lost Boys for an evening was truly a magical experience that shouldn’t be missed.
(note: these photos are not from the Highland Park performance...since I didn't have a telephoto lens I lifted these from their Beacon Theater performance in NYC. But you get the point)
