Music

Ondi Timoner, the documentarian behind the excellent DiG!, is apparently unrolling a new documentary about religious cults called Join Us (sorry, free registration required).

If you’ve not seen DiG!, I highly recommend it–it traces the awesomely melodramatic rivalry between the Dandy Warhols and the Brian Jonestown Massacre, two bands vying for the limelight. The real star of that documentary is Anton Newcombe, the musician behind BJM; he comes across simultaneously as a raving loon and an intensely talented musician. DiG! is entertaining in a look-at-the-train-wreck sort of way, and it introduced me to music I’m still listening to years later. I suspect that Join Us will be worth checking out as well.

So word has it that Hillary Clinton’s campaign theme song is “You and I” by Celine Dion. (Think VERY VERY carefully about whether you want to click that link. Just sayin’.) Angels and ministers of grace, preserve us.

This is unacceptable. Fellow Americans, I hereby vow that if I ever run for office, the official song of my presidential campaign will be “Eurotrash Girl,” as performed by Cracker:

Of course, I’ll use the 8-minute album version, not the 5-minute Youtube version that’s been dumbed down for the unwashed masses.

[Note: I thought it might be fun–for me, at least–to review some of the more obscure bands in my music library. More interesting than hearing me drone on about the latest U2 album, right? Well, here goes.]

Back in 2000, I came across, entirely by chance, an indie Christian industrial band called Aleixa. I took a chance on their latest album at the time, Disfigured, mostly out of curiosity at what “Christian industrial” might sound like. As it turned out, the album ended up with a permanent spot on my favorites list.

To my great disappointment, Aleixa disbanded not long after that album. They had recorded one previous album in 1996, but due to the band’s general obscurity I was never able to track down a copy. So imagine my surprise when just the other day I came across Honey Lake, Aleixa’s first album, in the $1 bin at the local used music store.

Honey Lake falls into what you might call the “industrial synth-pop” genre: hard guitars laid over a moderately complex, and often danceable, electronic beat. What really grabs your attention, though, are the ethereal vocals by Laurel Snapper, whose voice both complements and contrasts with the guitars and beats. The individual songs vary musically from harder, more industrial crunch to catchier dance tunes.

Lyrically, the album is pretty dark and emotional for a Christian band; many of the songs are bleak and spiritually troubled, delving into topics like depression, suicide, anger, and self-esteem. There are certainly glimmers of hope throughout, but many songs come across as cries for help from somebody facing spiritual despair. “Spark,” for instance, opens with this:

i’ve got a knife that’s up in the kitchen
i’ve got a knife that’s ready to take the plunge
i’ve got a knife that’s ready for marriage
i’ve got a knife that wants to have some fun

i’ve got a life that ain’t worth living
i’ve got a life that i wanna give back
i know you’ll be better off without me
there’s too much pain baby there’s too much pain

The very next song, “I Could Murder,” opens with a creepy sample of a cheerleader squad chanting “M-U-R-D-E-R K-I-L-L” and goes on to lament the potential for evil inside everyone: “I could murder / I could kill / there is something, something inside me”.

Other songs reach more successfully for hope, but it’s often hope that lives on in spite of pain; there’s no hokey reassurance that accepting Jesus into your heart will make your life A-okay. What comes across in the course of the album is a more subtle exhortation to hang in there despite whatever you’re suffering or experiencing, because one day (but not today) that pain will be wiped away. In one of the closing tracks, “Some Things Will Never Go Away,” Snapper makes one of the album’s few explicit references to Jesus Christ:

i can’t change what i feel inside
i can’t change what’s here in my mind
it won’t go away i think it’s here to stay
to weigh down on me
feeling lost again i’m waiting outside
i know that jesus is the way
i know that jesus is the way

It’s an angsty, melodramatic, but real-life faith, at least compared to the squeaky-clean theology found in much of CCM. I don’t think these lyrics would be considered unacceptable today, but ten years ago they caused enough controversy in the Christian music market that many Christian music stores declined to carry the album. (Their second and last album, Disfigured, is a bit more open about the band’s Christian faith, but also includes one song taking an angry swipe at Christians critics who complained about Honey Lake’s dark tone.)

So what do I think of all this? I think Honey Lake is a fine, fine album. The music is catchy and interesting, the lyrics are relevant and provocative, and hearing Snapper’s sweeping vocals makes me weep for the day that Aleixa disbanded. That praise aside, Honey Lake does feel less polished than Disfigured; some of the songs are much better than others, and in general there is a sense throughout Honey Lake that Aleixa is still working out its signature sound.

Disfigured is the album to start with if you want to hear them at their best, but Honey Lake is definitely worth picking up if you at all enjoy their music (and if you’re lucky enough to stumble across it; as far as I can tell, both albums are quite out of print). Aleixa is one of the lost treasures of CCM; one can only hope that Kevin 151 and Laurel Snapper, the figures behind Aleixa’s music and vocals respectively, will one day join forces again.

There’s never been an album I’ve anticipated as hotly as Maroon 5’s followup to 2002’s Songs About Jane. It bothered me a little, since such anticipation generally elevates an album to unachievable heights of expectation, which just kills it for me when it finally comes out only to disappoint. But the band made it very difficult to not build an enormous cache of expectations, given a full touring schedule (M5 is a fabulous live band) and five loooooooong years since a stint in the studio.

I’m happy to report, however, that IWBSBL does not fail to impress.

It’s a very different album from SAJ, though there are plenty of similar elements. The funk is funkier; Adam’s vocals are higher, almost a caricature of himself; the sexual innuendo is spread throughout, going well beyond simple suggestion. The music is more electronic throughout, as is evident on the first single, “Makes Me Wonder”. “Wake Up Call” is probably the best “pure Maroon 5″ song: forward keyboards, big beats, Adam waxing about the man he just shot dead after finding him with his girl. Other signs of greatness are “Kiwi” (which is a not-so-thinly-veiled reference to oral sex, but is just a great musical song) and the finale, “Figure It Out”, which is probably the most creative effort on the album (featuring cowbell drumming!). There are more songs on IWBSBL that feel more like filler than on SAJ; all in all, it’s a little hit-and-miss, but the hits are big hits, while the misses are more just mediocre, not bad.

If you liked Songs About Jane, and you’re good with more electronic funk (think Jamiroquai), AND you aren’t daunted by very sexual (but not vulgar, for the most part, which is odd) lyrics, I can wholeheartedly recommend It Won’t Be Soon Before Long.

Although Dream Theater is one of my favorite bands, I don’t follow Dream Theater websites, news, or forums to learn about their upcoming releases; I like to be surprised once a year or so to stumble across a new album while browsing the music store. That’s how I came upon Systematic Chaos, their newest effort, earlier this week.

One thing I love about Dream Theater is that they know what they do well, and they tend to stick with it. Apart from a brief stray into slightly more “alternative rock” territory with 1997’s Falling Into Infinity, they’ve been plugging along almost since the beginning with their signature style: hard and surprisingly agile progressive metal. Albums filled with 10+ minute metal epics and long instrumental showing-off do not make for a lot of radio airplay, but if prog metal is your thing, nobody does it better.

Systematic Chaos does not buck this trend; right out of the gate they’re Doing Their Thing with “In the Presence of Enemies,” a 25-minute epic (spread across two tracks) with heavy guitars, symphonic pacing, and sweeping vocals to match any of their past half-hour pieces. The lyrics paint a picture of brooding and nebulous spiritual struggle–a bit grimmer and more theatrical than Dream Theater’s typical fare, but it works very well.

“Forsaken,” “Constant Motion,” and “The Ministry of Lost Souls” are all strong examples of Dream Theater’s style (although “Ministry” is the only one of the three that strikes me as particularly memorable). “Repentance” is a continuation of a piece from an earlier album, and is an extended reflection on regret and the need for forgiveness in our everyday lives. “Prophets of War” is a perhaps obligatory anti-war piece, but as with most of Dream Theater’s social-commentary songs, it gives the impression of reasoned passion rather than mindless anti-establishment rage. Lyrics throughout the album are interesting and mature. The songs are complex and reward multiple listens; on each subsequent listen, one can try to follow another of the many different interweaving song elements: guitars, drums, keyboards, vocals. Key changes, tempo shifts, and long instrumental interludes are everywhere.

All in all, Systematic Chaos is a great album. As you may have gathered, it’s a pretty typical Dream Theater album; if you like or dislike Dream Theater already, this album won’t change your mind. It’s Dream Theater doing what they do best. And judging by Systematic Chaos, they’re still at the top of their game.

It’s Friday afternoon, the sun is finally visible after a week of April snow, and I’m having an awful time getting anything done. So I think I’ll treat you to one of my favorite rock tunes from the ’90s–”A Walk” by Bad Religion:

The video’s kinda cheesy in a mid-90s way, but the music makes me want to crank up the stereo and start wailing away on the trusty ol’ air guitar. One of the reasons I love this song so much is that it contains one of the best put-down lines in the history of rock:

I don’t need to live in your stinking zoo
you can’t even feed the animals donated to you
your storage sheds are ramshackle; flies decorate the walls
and you expect me to die here in this shit-filled tiny stall?

Next time somebody insults you, just fling the ramshackle state of their storage sheds back in their face! I think that verse makes more sense if you imagine that it’s being sung by an abused zoo animal, or something. Anyway, rock on, my religion-disliking friends. Rock on!

Oh, and the subject of Bad Religion comes up so infrequently here that I must take the opportunity to share a related link: a Christian college professor’s dialogue with the lead singer of Bad Religion.

This is, I’m told, a new Radiohead song that’s cropping up in concerts:

It’s a bit hard to judge a song based on a low-quality capture of a concert performance, but… I like it a lot. Hypnotic melody, classic Radiohead vocals, interesting guitar, uh, noise. Like some of my other favorite Radiohead songs, it’s haunting.

The viral-marketing campaign for the upcoming NIN album is quite elaborate and exceedingly cool. Dang, I’m really looking forward to this one.

Hey, what do you know–the guys from The Jesus and Mary Chain have apparently formed a new band, with a few additional members. It’s called Sister Vanilla, and from the two tunes I’ve found online, it sounds a heck of a lot like classic J&MC, which is to say, it’s really good:

• Jamcolas

• Can’t Stop the Rock

(Both songs found at this 3Hive post.)

“Jamcolas,” especially, sounds like it’s straight out of a J&MC album–simple and catchy hook, fuzzy guitars, driving beat. It’s taking me a bit to get used to female vocals, but I think it all works.

Two things about this post:

1. My wife doesn’t understand most of my music. Prince and CAKE top the list of artists she would just as soon see dead; as such, I find myself continually re-listening to them to see if they’re really as good as they seem in my mind.
2. I don’t listen to a ton of “new music”. I’m not the avant garde type. Thus, most of my music reviews will cover years- or even decades-old music. Hopefully, somewhere in there, I’ll cover a band or album that you might have missed the first time around—chances are, I did.

Prince personifies the pomp and circumstance of the mid-80s. His over-the-top productions capture the excess of the decade; the sexuality drips from his music to the point of absurdity. Many would write him off as an 80s act, signifying that his work belongs with the rest of the forgettable music churned out in the era that defined one-hit wonders. To relegate him to the trashpile with the likes of Kajagoogoo, though, is to ignore the impact his music had when it was released, and to deny the fact that he was a fabulous musician, irrespective of his contemporaries.

Purple Rain is arguably the last great album, chronologically, in Prince’s colorful repetoire. From start (the bizarre eulogy in “Let’s Go Crazy”) to finish (the haunting “Purple Rain”), the album is superbly varied. It evokes images of a fainting James Brown with his cape, an androgynous Little Richard… all mixed with something much darker.

Nowhere is the darkness more evident than in the signature song of the album, perhaps of Prince’s career: “When Doves Cry”. Amidst the typical sexual imagery, the chorus belies a creepy undertone:

How can you just leave me standing,
Alone in a world that’s so cold?
Maybe I’m just too demanding
Maybe I’m just like my father—too bold
Maybe you’re just like my mother
She’s never satisfied
Why do we scream at each other
This is what it sounds like when doves cry.

This is typical of the entire album: the sexual is mixed with the somber. Sandwiched between a song about a sordid encounter with a random dominatrix and a confusing confession of undying love is a song about an abusive home and its effects on Prince’s relationships. No offense, but this is no “She Blinded Me With Science”.

If your parents were anything like mine, there was no way they were going to allow Prince in the house, and certainly nothing like “Darling Nikki”. I’d say that unless you’re still morally opposed, Purple Rain belongs in your CD collection as the one of the best of the otherwise-mediocre 80s.

P.S. For the record, I adore 80s music, including stuff by Kajagoogoo and Thomas Dolby and the rest. My goal, though, was the differentiate the frou-frou stuff of the 80s from this album, which is absolutely epic.