[[ hah! oops. already reviewed as #188. I guess I'll leave this here -- 7/24/18 ]]
--
I'm pretty sure this had been sitting on my mp3 player unnoticed for months, until one train ride home I went, hey, what's this? Have I heard this? I pretty quickly found out, no I had not.
[[ correction: I had. ]]
And I was immediately glad I did. And then I was gladder still.
This is a good album, with plenty of signature No Age moments, sounding more stonedly sentimental and gorgeously noisefucked than ever; the 1-2 punch of Fever Dreaming and Depletion is, in particular, an asskicker.
But the reason these work so well is the album that lead up to them, and follows them. This is an perfectly paced album, pulling you through the ups and downs of buzzsaw peril and fuzzsaw ambiance at all the right moments, smothering you in tension, smothering the tension in hugs. The overall effect was pretty stunning.
Caveats: this was heard through headphones, loud beyond loud, on trains home on a late night. This is somehow the perfect setting for this album, and its wholly possible that your mileage (and, in fact, my future mileage) [[ and in fact my past mileage! ]] will vary. But in a record of my first impressions, this one knocked my socks off the way I have been wanting Deerhunter, Wavves, and previous No Age to for years. The newgaze/buzzpop/slackpunk/post-alternative/whatevver album of my dreams is, if fleetingly as a dream, finally here 4.5/5
You might like this if: you like noisy ambient pop punk on the order of Deerhuner/Wavves/A Place to Bury strangers and happen to be on a train, with your headphones on, and don't mind some hearing loss. [[ its weird I used to do this ]]
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Thursday, September 15, 2011
#398 Battles - Gloss Drop
I actually cannot remember how I decided to look these guys up again, I wasn't really all that into Mirrored, but something outside my usual circles got me excited enough about this album to check it out.
Thing is, I really wanted to like Mirrored. The live drums, the offkilter Health-like energy, but other than Atlas, it just didn't end up moving me overmuch, just didn't quite have enough structure. Here though, it works, weaving some perfect electronic/rock balances together: ostinato that straddles trancy loop and rockist riff, buildup flow that straddles raveup techno and proggy extravagance, minimal spaciness against shoegazey density, experimental twist pitted against sudden guitar shredline, and on top of it all a crisp set of live drums that just pops and pops.
The overall effect strikes a really delightful balance of background and foreground, between atmosphere and energy that makes it nearly perfect work music. And then there are great pieces of swervy contrast, like Wall Street's switchback from skittery bleeps into a great Genesis organ-and-guitar-wall, moments that keep you on your toes and give you something to look forward to. I don't love the two vocals-featuring tracks at the album's core, and I think that this is one whose flame will dull to a persistent but unspectacular ember, but it's caught me nicely enough to earn the very high end of 4/5
You might like this if: You like rockist techno like Justice and Daft Punk, but don't might something a bit more jazzy and sprightly. You like live drums in your electronic beepbox.
Thing is, I really wanted to like Mirrored. The live drums, the offkilter Health-like energy, but other than Atlas, it just didn't end up moving me overmuch, just didn't quite have enough structure. Here though, it works, weaving some perfect electronic/rock balances together: ostinato that straddles trancy loop and rockist riff, buildup flow that straddles raveup techno and proggy extravagance, minimal spaciness against shoegazey density, experimental twist pitted against sudden guitar shredline, and on top of it all a crisp set of live drums that just pops and pops.
The overall effect strikes a really delightful balance of background and foreground, between atmosphere and energy that makes it nearly perfect work music. And then there are great pieces of swervy contrast, like Wall Street's switchback from skittery bleeps into a great Genesis organ-and-guitar-wall, moments that keep you on your toes and give you something to look forward to. I don't love the two vocals-featuring tracks at the album's core, and I think that this is one whose flame will dull to a persistent but unspectacular ember, but it's caught me nicely enough to earn the very high end of 4/5
You might like this if: You like rockist techno like Justice and Daft Punk, but don't might something a bit more jazzy and sprightly. You like live drums in your electronic beepbox.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
#397 Neon Indian - Era Extrana
Brit randomly played this in the car on the way back from cut / copy. Didn't even know they had a new one out!
Something was lost in the transition though. The first album had this humble, clumsy, lo-fi charm to it, the songs sounding strangely ancient despite their obvious 80's-via-aughts influences. Here things are much more polished, and even in places where they aren't they feel intentionally roughed up, seemingly wanting to press certain buttons, sound like m83/cut copy/starfucker, all of who do this kind of thing better.
There's also something weirdly disconnected about some of the electronic flourishes and squiggles, which often scurry off over and around the track, without really being connected to it rhymically or melodically or structurally, sounding outside the rest of the song somehow. This leads to a more quirky sound, but it feels a little tacked on, like someone went and pinned some extra flair onto an otherwise lumbering song.
Its a perfectly good album, and maybe it suffered from being heard in the middle of hanging out with 80's revival-obsessed Brit, and seeing cut / copy, the drums, and starfucker live over the span of 3 weeks. Maybe I was just overloaded on this kind of sound, but for whatever reason it really didn't move me 2.5/5
You might like this if: you like vaguely noisy, fairly pretty, slightly dancy 80's revival, with a squiggly edge, and haven't already overdosed on the sound.
Something was lost in the transition though. The first album had this humble, clumsy, lo-fi charm to it, the songs sounding strangely ancient despite their obvious 80's-via-aughts influences. Here things are much more polished, and even in places where they aren't they feel intentionally roughed up, seemingly wanting to press certain buttons, sound like m83/cut copy/starfucker, all of who do this kind of thing better.
There's also something weirdly disconnected about some of the electronic flourishes and squiggles, which often scurry off over and around the track, without really being connected to it rhymically or melodically or structurally, sounding outside the rest of the song somehow. This leads to a more quirky sound, but it feels a little tacked on, like someone went and pinned some extra flair onto an otherwise lumbering song.
Its a perfectly good album, and maybe it suffered from being heard in the middle of hanging out with 80's revival-obsessed Brit, and seeing cut / copy, the drums, and starfucker live over the span of 3 weeks. Maybe I was just overloaded on this kind of sound, but for whatever reason it really didn't move me 2.5/5
You might like this if: you like vaguely noisy, fairly pretty, slightly dancy 80's revival, with a squiggly edge, and haven't already overdosed on the sound.
Monday, September 12, 2011
#396 Wugazi - 13 Chambers
Slate, of all places, had an article that mentioned this (free!) album, seems promising.
I used to bristle when people would talk about Girl Talk making mashups: for a lot of people the term evokes taking two songs and combining them, which has historically been pretty boring, and fails to improve on either of the original tracks (I'm looking at you Grey Album). I much prefer the ADDJ mashup that revels in transitions, tripleups, and party dynamics for energy.
What we have here is the 2-track approach, taking (as you probably guessed by now) 1 each of a Wu Tang song and a Fugazi song. But in this case, it actually works. The two bands are a good match: Wu Tang is a diverse group that mixes bobbing energy and tension, and the same goes for Fugazi on each count: menace is matched with frayed guitars, clean riffs with hopscotch ryhme lines. And most importantly, the overall structure is restless and exciting - there may only be two tracks per track, but each is full of builds, drops, twists and surprises.
While it lacks some of the ADDJ cotton candy constant delight, it works as a nice piece of rock rap done right, full of frustration and release. Probably my favorite 2-track mashup album I've heard 4/5
You might like this if: you like hooks and melodies under your rap and want something to bob your head to.
I used to bristle when people would talk about Girl Talk making mashups: for a lot of people the term evokes taking two songs and combining them, which has historically been pretty boring, and fails to improve on either of the original tracks (I'm looking at you Grey Album). I much prefer the ADDJ mashup that revels in transitions, tripleups, and party dynamics for energy.
What we have here is the 2-track approach, taking (as you probably guessed by now) 1 each of a Wu Tang song and a Fugazi song. But in this case, it actually works. The two bands are a good match: Wu Tang is a diverse group that mixes bobbing energy and tension, and the same goes for Fugazi on each count: menace is matched with frayed guitars, clean riffs with hopscotch ryhme lines. And most importantly, the overall structure is restless and exciting - there may only be two tracks per track, but each is full of builds, drops, twists and surprises.
While it lacks some of the ADDJ cotton candy constant delight, it works as a nice piece of rock rap done right, full of frustration and release. Probably my favorite 2-track mashup album I've heard 4/5
You might like this if: you like hooks and melodies under your rap and want something to bob your head to.
#395 The War on Drugs - Slave Ambient
Pitch'd! The day they stop being so consistently good at picking BNM albums is the day I'll stop looking.
It's a solid, curiously absorbing album, considering how boring it is. The songs are mushy and repetitive, like a washed out, echo-chamber Wilco got a Scottish Bob Dylan to sing some songs for them while they laid out relentless motorik*.
The real strength of this album, though, is its overall pacing and composition, which gives it that tricky boring/absorbing quality. The (long, but just barely not too long) Your Love is Calling My Name is followed by a pretty ambient palette cleanser, and another ambient diversion follows just when it's needed a few tracks later, and another a few tracks later still. These contrasts left me feeling restless, but pulled me back again and again to the center.
It also helps that subtle shifts nudge the dense, mushy sound hither and tither, from the U2 anthem Come to the City to the Springsteen-via-Arcade-Fire pulse of Baby Missiles. The beats are constant, but the swooping tone of the sentiment winds new paths through the swamps, climaxing in the brilliantly crisp Blackwater, which sheds just enough of the album's reverb muck to emerge triumphant without betraying the road it closes.
I don't see this as a repeat listen for me, but I admire the way it overcomes its apparent shortcomings with grace. Could be a grower 3.5/5
You might like this if: You're feeling patient and wistful, and want a ghostly echo for a companion for 45 minutes or so.
*New my blog drinking game: do a shot every time I mention Krautrock or Motorik. Ever since I first encountered the sound I kind of started seeing it everywhere. But it totally applies here, especially on the doggedly churning Your Love is Calling My Name.
It's a solid, curiously absorbing album, considering how boring it is. The songs are mushy and repetitive, like a washed out, echo-chamber Wilco got a Scottish Bob Dylan to sing some songs for them while they laid out relentless motorik*.
The real strength of this album, though, is its overall pacing and composition, which gives it that tricky boring/absorbing quality. The (long, but just barely not too long) Your Love is Calling My Name is followed by a pretty ambient palette cleanser, and another ambient diversion follows just when it's needed a few tracks later, and another a few tracks later still. These contrasts left me feeling restless, but pulled me back again and again to the center.
It also helps that subtle shifts nudge the dense, mushy sound hither and tither, from the U2 anthem Come to the City to the Springsteen-via-Arcade-Fire pulse of Baby Missiles. The beats are constant, but the swooping tone of the sentiment winds new paths through the swamps, climaxing in the brilliantly crisp Blackwater, which sheds just enough of the album's reverb muck to emerge triumphant without betraying the road it closes.
I don't see this as a repeat listen for me, but I admire the way it overcomes its apparent shortcomings with grace. Could be a grower 3.5/5
You might like this if: You're feeling patient and wistful, and want a ghostly echo for a companion for 45 minutes or so.
*New my blog drinking game: do a shot every time I mention Krautrock or Motorik. Ever since I first encountered the sound I kind of started seeing it everywhere. But it totally applies here, especially on the doggedly churning Your Love is Calling My Name.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
#394 Yo La Tengo - Fakebook
Continuing the trip through Yo La Tengo's considerable catalog, this time with a well regarded album regarded an outlier in their catalog.
Here, the band's signature drones and heaviness and expanse are traded in for an entire album of spare, folky pop. As a further divergence, the album is mostly covers, and obscure ones at that - I may have some holes in my background, but I was still surprised that I only recognized The Kink's Oklahoma USA (and I only heard that a couple months ago!). Its a willfully obscure collection, to the extent that it barely reads like a cover album.
None of these songs would have been out of place on IANAoYaIWBYA's between-drone breaks, full as they are of bouncy pop moments, frail boy vocals, frail girl vocals, and plucky guitars. The thing that really makes it work is the excellent curation; the choices may be obscure, but they result in a remarkably cohesive covers album, with legitimate inter-song emotional arcs and strong themes of loves lost and found. Its all listenable and kind, rather sweet, stopping just this side of twee. Not what I traditionally look for in a Yo La Tengo album, but a perfectly agreeable listen that shows off the band's considerable musical wit in whole new ways 3.5/5
You might like this if: you want a sweet, curiously anachronistic bundle of lovelorn tunes, sung Yo La Tengo style, and won't be too disappointed when the drones and atmosphere fail to show up.
Here, the band's signature drones and heaviness and expanse are traded in for an entire album of spare, folky pop. As a further divergence, the album is mostly covers, and obscure ones at that - I may have some holes in my background, but I was still surprised that I only recognized The Kink's Oklahoma USA (and I only heard that a couple months ago!). Its a willfully obscure collection, to the extent that it barely reads like a cover album.
None of these songs would have been out of place on IANAoYaIWBYA's between-drone breaks, full as they are of bouncy pop moments, frail boy vocals, frail girl vocals, and plucky guitars. The thing that really makes it work is the excellent curation; the choices may be obscure, but they result in a remarkably cohesive covers album, with legitimate inter-song emotional arcs and strong themes of loves lost and found. Its all listenable and kind, rather sweet, stopping just this side of twee. Not what I traditionally look for in a Yo La Tengo album, but a perfectly agreeable listen that shows off the band's considerable musical wit in whole new ways 3.5/5
You might like this if: you want a sweet, curiously anachronistic bundle of lovelorn tunes, sung Yo La Tengo style, and won't be too disappointed when the drones and atmosphere fail to show up.
Monday, September 5, 2011
#393 Yo La Tengo - I am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass
Loved ICFtHBaO and Painful, but I think I was a little intimidated by the size of this band's catalog, never knew where to start. Why not here?
My favorite kind of Yo La Tengo song is the dense builder, heavy with texture and pulse, beamed into my brainstem via subliminal channels. Think Autumn Sweater, We're an American Band, Big Day Coming, and the too-short Superstar-Watcher. The album kicks off with a great new entry onto that list as Pass the Hachet, I Think I'm Goodkind winds through 10 minutes of relentless bass and drone-washed, tin-tunnel straining. There's a couple more like that peppered throughout, with The Room Got Heavy serving as the album's delightfully nightmarish lynchpin, followed much later by the album's epic closer.
Elsewhere YLT stretch their legs a bit more, bopping through baroque, poppy, slightly experimental numbers that evoke what I think Belle and Sebastian sound like*. And then there's frail little pieces of gorgeous like I Feel Like Going Home and the psychobilly 50's stomp of Watch Out for me Ronny. All over the map.
It's actually a good structure, with those 3 classic YLT drone numbers serving to anchor the experimental forays. I don't much enjoy the bouncier bits in isolation, but as a whole, it works as a lower calorie, slighty less rich Yo La Tengo experience, better, perhaps for tanktops than Autumn Sweaters, but a legitimate Yo La Tengo album. Which, is good 4/5
You might like this if: you like sweet pop, pretty drone rock, and plenty of what falls in between. If you like Belle and Sebastian (??)
*I don't actually know B&S nearly as well as well as several ladies I have known have suggested I should. Just can't get into them. Sorry ladies!
My favorite kind of Yo La Tengo song is the dense builder, heavy with texture and pulse, beamed into my brainstem via subliminal channels. Think Autumn Sweater, We're an American Band, Big Day Coming, and the too-short Superstar-Watcher. The album kicks off with a great new entry onto that list as Pass the Hachet, I Think I'm Goodkind winds through 10 minutes of relentless bass and drone-washed, tin-tunnel straining. There's a couple more like that peppered throughout, with The Room Got Heavy serving as the album's delightfully nightmarish lynchpin, followed much later by the album's epic closer.
Elsewhere YLT stretch their legs a bit more, bopping through baroque, poppy, slightly experimental numbers that evoke what I think Belle and Sebastian sound like*. And then there's frail little pieces of gorgeous like I Feel Like Going Home and the psychobilly 50's stomp of Watch Out for me Ronny. All over the map.
It's actually a good structure, with those 3 classic YLT drone numbers serving to anchor the experimental forays. I don't much enjoy the bouncier bits in isolation, but as a whole, it works as a lower calorie, slighty less rich Yo La Tengo experience, better, perhaps for tanktops than Autumn Sweaters, but a legitimate Yo La Tengo album. Which, is good 4/5
You might like this if: you like sweet pop, pretty drone rock, and plenty of what falls in between. If you like Belle and Sebastian (??)
*I don't actually know B&S nearly as well as well as several ladies I have known have suggested I should. Just can't get into them. Sorry ladies!
#392 The Magnetic Fields - i
A friend listed this among their favorite albums and I realized that I'd never heard it despite (mostly) liking 69 Love Songs and (somewhat) liking Distortion.
Stephin Merritt is a tough pill to swallow: endlessly morose, powerfully prolific, alternately heavy and frail, and generally seductively difficult as singer-songwriter types go. At least Young and Dylan and Darnielle have the decency to just throw down an album that bristles with obvious prickers, but Merritt is a silk bag of unhinged scissors. Plus, man, the man knows his way around a melody, can build an unassailable atmosphere from the frailest parts, and can spin a hell of a vocal turn. The strengths are most prominently on display on I Don't Believe You, with its gorgeous [guitar? mandolin??] solo and hitched lyrical lines, where the meaning doesn't pivot into place until 5 or 6 words after the mid-line punchline.
This is actually probably the most solid of The Magnetic Fields' albums that I've heard, remaining engaging throughout. The effect is cumulative without being oppressive, cathartic at least as often as it's crushing, building a damaged castle, brick after wounded brick, occasionally pausing to knock it to pieces. There are some missteps, some songs where Merrit doesn't seem to have much to do but repeat the name of the song (ok, ok, 'evil twin', 'late at night', got it) and the band doesn't seem to have much interest in providing much spark.
This seems like a very positive review as I write it. Fact is, the singer songwriter scene still isn't something I'm all that into, so we're still only going to end up at 3.5/5
You might like this if: you like lovelorn singer-songwriting, with lush, crushing production and lush crushing sentiment to match.
Stephin Merritt is a tough pill to swallow: endlessly morose, powerfully prolific, alternately heavy and frail, and generally seductively difficult as singer-songwriter types go. At least Young and Dylan and Darnielle have the decency to just throw down an album that bristles with obvious prickers, but Merritt is a silk bag of unhinged scissors. Plus, man, the man knows his way around a melody, can build an unassailable atmosphere from the frailest parts, and can spin a hell of a vocal turn. The strengths are most prominently on display on I Don't Believe You, with its gorgeous [guitar? mandolin??] solo and hitched lyrical lines, where the meaning doesn't pivot into place until 5 or 6 words after the mid-line punchline.
This is actually probably the most solid of The Magnetic Fields' albums that I've heard, remaining engaging throughout. The effect is cumulative without being oppressive, cathartic at least as often as it's crushing, building a damaged castle, brick after wounded brick, occasionally pausing to knock it to pieces. There are some missteps, some songs where Merrit doesn't seem to have much to do but repeat the name of the song (ok, ok, 'evil twin', 'late at night', got it) and the band doesn't seem to have much interest in providing much spark.
This seems like a very positive review as I write it. Fact is, the singer songwriter scene still isn't something I'm all that into, so we're still only going to end up at 3.5/5
You might like this if: you like lovelorn singer-songwriting, with lush, crushing production and lush crushing sentiment to match.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
#391 The Who - My Generation
It's funny the stuff you miss. I've listened to plenty of The Who's output, but in the midst of my year-by-year catchup project I noticed I'd never given their debut a proper playthrough.
I heard about The Who's legendary stage presence, with all its madness and fury, years before I heard any of their non-single tracks, so I remember being surprised at how tame it actually was. The Who Sell Out and Quadrophenia are perfectly respectable, well-respected albums, but the delivery is more warped and arty than blunt and brutal. Here, though, I see a bit more of their proto-punk side, particularly the rollicking opener Out in the Street, the inexorable sputtering lashout of the title track, and the pre-Waits sneering blues swagger of I'm a Man, which flames out in spectacular climax. The James Brown covers are also telling, as the band seems to strive for a bit of his infernal fury.
There's also seeds for the later, more composed work though, with flittering pianos, vocal harmonies, and spare, upbeat poppy structures cropping up throughout.
As an album, it hangs together pretty well, seeming like a missing link between earlyish Beatles, earlyish Stones, and early-to-middleish Kinks. A solid slice of 60's rock, and a missing piece I'm glad to have cleared up 4/5
You might like this if: You like earlyish Beatles, earlyish Stones, and early-to-middleish Kinks and have somehow missed this before now.
I heard about The Who's legendary stage presence, with all its madness and fury, years before I heard any of their non-single tracks, so I remember being surprised at how tame it actually was. The Who Sell Out and Quadrophenia are perfectly respectable, well-respected albums, but the delivery is more warped and arty than blunt and brutal. Here, though, I see a bit more of their proto-punk side, particularly the rollicking opener Out in the Street, the inexorable sputtering lashout of the title track, and the pre-Waits sneering blues swagger of I'm a Man, which flames out in spectacular climax. The James Brown covers are also telling, as the band seems to strive for a bit of his infernal fury.
There's also seeds for the later, more composed work though, with flittering pianos, vocal harmonies, and spare, upbeat poppy structures cropping up throughout.
As an album, it hangs together pretty well, seeming like a missing link between earlyish Beatles, earlyish Stones, and early-to-middleish Kinks. A solid slice of 60's rock, and a missing piece I'm glad to have cleared up 4/5
You might like this if: You like earlyish Beatles, earlyish Stones, and early-to-middleish Kinks and have somehow missed this before now.
#390 David Crosby - If I Could Only Remember My Name
Still part of my lost years year-by-year trawl, this time jumping all the way to 1971. There's a few earlier ones still lined up, but it turns out I've actually heard more of the 60's biguns than I thought.
This is an album where the cover sums it up pretty nicely, all the hippie dippy trippiness implied by Crosby's floating face, all the languid vibe implied by the sunset, and all of the fire implied by the oranges and reds and yellows themselves, decomposed. The latter rears its head in the lurching swagger and drawl of Cowboy Movie and the proto-Zeppelin crawl of What are Their Names.
But the highlights are actually the moments, harmonious in sound and sentiment, that form the album's shimmering backbone, that flicker and stun like a sunset off the sea. The singular highlight is definitely Laughing, which sets a blueprint for the best Yo La Tengo and Songs: Ohia songs to come decades later. It builds on nuanced bass, layered guitars and flowery sentiment, but then cracks open into one of the finest musical moments I've heard in years, as high vocals and high guitars take the song higher and higher. I could listen to the 3:30-4:30 sequence for hours, and practically have, lately.
The rest of the album doesn't quite rise to those transcendental peaks, but it follows the same blueprint: lush, a little ridiculous if you think about it, but sublime if you allow yourself not to. Really quite gorgeous and perfectly executed as an album, with perfect flow and presence.
Other than Laughing, I don't know that it stands out to me. It fades into the background a bit, swooping effortlessly from track to track, from line to line, on the back of perfect harmonies that turn the songs to mush, but I'm not convinced that's such a bad thing. Definitely a find. Maybe I'm just in the right mood, and I suspect it will fall off for me, but my instinct is to set this on the low end of 4.5/5
You might like this if: you have patience enough for a bit of flower child goofiness, and long for harmonies, interlocking guitars, lush production and beauty.
This is an album where the cover sums it up pretty nicely, all the hippie dippy trippiness implied by Crosby's floating face, all the languid vibe implied by the sunset, and all of the fire implied by the oranges and reds and yellows themselves, decomposed. The latter rears its head in the lurching swagger and drawl of Cowboy Movie and the proto-Zeppelin crawl of What are Their Names.
But the highlights are actually the moments, harmonious in sound and sentiment, that form the album's shimmering backbone, that flicker and stun like a sunset off the sea. The singular highlight is definitely Laughing, which sets a blueprint for the best Yo La Tengo and Songs: Ohia songs to come decades later. It builds on nuanced bass, layered guitars and flowery sentiment, but then cracks open into one of the finest musical moments I've heard in years, as high vocals and high guitars take the song higher and higher. I could listen to the 3:30-4:30 sequence for hours, and practically have, lately.
The rest of the album doesn't quite rise to those transcendental peaks, but it follows the same blueprint: lush, a little ridiculous if you think about it, but sublime if you allow yourself not to. Really quite gorgeous and perfectly executed as an album, with perfect flow and presence.
Other than Laughing, I don't know that it stands out to me. It fades into the background a bit, swooping effortlessly from track to track, from line to line, on the back of perfect harmonies that turn the songs to mush, but I'm not convinced that's such a bad thing. Definitely a find. Maybe I'm just in the right mood, and I suspect it will fall off for me, but my instinct is to set this on the low end of 4.5/5
You might like this if: you have patience enough for a bit of flower child goofiness, and long for harmonies, interlocking guitars, lush production and beauty.
#389 Robert Johnson - King of the Delta Blues Singers
My thorough roll through 1969 got me thinking, let's do this up right, really plug all the holes left in my rock and roll background, born, as I was, 30+ years too late. I'm not quite in the mood for anything really reeeally early, so 1961 was as far back as I made it, to this very highly regarded, foundational blues compilation.
This is an album where you really need to know a lot about rock, the guitar, the blues, and everything to really get it. I think a lot of the draw is subtle, in knowing that Johnson did it first, in knowing that some little trick is actually quite a tricky trick on the guitar. I know a lot about rock, but maybe I just don't know enough, or maybe I just didn't pay close enough attention, or maybe I'm just not quite enough of a guitar wonk, but I didn't find myself loving this as much as I feel like I'm supposed to.
I recognize some of the greatness. The key is to realize this is one guy and one guitar, weaving proto-Lightning-Bolt double parts in some places, pulling pluck-strum-something-in-between-strum-pluckity-pluck-pluck-strum-and-back whoops and whirls and warps and woofs again and again. And on tracks like Preaching Blues, there is a absolutely a raw energy that I admire a lot, and even enjoy.
But, well. I feel like maybe this is great, but I don't feel like its great to listen to. It's reedy, erratic, mono, grating, really. It feels like a silent movie, where you watch it and respect it, but struggle to be as fully engaged as you would with something a bit more full-featured, and a bit more tied to your own actual reality. Maybe I'm bad at culture, and maybe I'll look back at this years from now and cringe (which is part of the fun of this blog, I suppose, the record of evolving impressions), but I didn't much enjoy this, and don't see revisiting it until, perhaps, I feel like I've obtained whatever muso insight is needed to appreciate it. I mean this mostly sincerely, but, admittedly, maybe a bit backhandedly. Guess I just don't get it 2.5/5
You might like this if: you want a history lesson on early blues, some deft guitar playing, and don't mind if the sound of it hurts your ears a bit in the process. If you have a record player and can rummage up a copy. I feel like this would potentially be a lot sweeter on vinyl.
This is an album where you really need to know a lot about rock, the guitar, the blues, and everything to really get it. I think a lot of the draw is subtle, in knowing that Johnson did it first, in knowing that some little trick is actually quite a tricky trick on the guitar. I know a lot about rock, but maybe I just don't know enough, or maybe I just didn't pay close enough attention, or maybe I'm just not quite enough of a guitar wonk, but I didn't find myself loving this as much as I feel like I'm supposed to.
I recognize some of the greatness. The key is to realize this is one guy and one guitar, weaving proto-Lightning-Bolt double parts in some places, pulling pluck-strum-something-in-between-strum-pluckity-pluck-pluck-strum-and-back whoops and whirls and warps and woofs again and again. And on tracks like Preaching Blues, there is a absolutely a raw energy that I admire a lot, and even enjoy.
But, well. I feel like maybe this is great, but I don't feel like its great to listen to. It's reedy, erratic, mono, grating, really. It feels like a silent movie, where you watch it and respect it, but struggle to be as fully engaged as you would with something a bit more full-featured, and a bit more tied to your own actual reality. Maybe I'm bad at culture, and maybe I'll look back at this years from now and cringe (which is part of the fun of this blog, I suppose, the record of evolving impressions), but I didn't much enjoy this, and don't see revisiting it until, perhaps, I feel like I've obtained whatever muso insight is needed to appreciate it. I mean this mostly sincerely, but, admittedly, maybe a bit backhandedly. Guess I just don't get it 2.5/5
You might like this if: you want a history lesson on early blues, some deft guitar playing, and don't mind if the sound of it hurts your ears a bit in the process. If you have a record player and can rummage up a copy. I feel like this would potentially be a lot sweeter on vinyl.
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