It may be the worst time of year for new releases and gigs, but the music news is as amusing as ever.
Is there anything funnier than Mariah Carey getting dumped from her contract? In the last year, her reputation has headed in the exact opposite direction as her breasts -- way, way down. Sure, $28 million will ease a lot of the pain and embarrassment. But it's difficult to feel sorry for her. She was nuttier than a fruitcake long before she was medically diagnosed as such. Her wickedly ditzy interviews made the guest actress commentators on Iron Chef look like CJ Cregg in a briefing room on The West Wing. For years, her videos have been a living, breathing advertisement for Temptation Island. She was jettisoned so swiftly from EMI that I can't make up my mind if it's more hilarious or scary. It's scary because a proven commercial success like Mariah, who I has the third or fourth most #1 hits in the history of music, was dumped like day old bread at the first sign of weakness. She'll probably return strong in a year or two, but POP is about the bottom line, and in two years, EMI could release 329 albums by boy bands and make their money that way before that gravy train dries up.
Also, Starsailor have garnered themselves a notable superfan in Phil Spector. He invited the band to his house, and they stayed for two hours. Before you shrug your shoulders, please note that Spector is probably the second most reclusive man in the world after Osama bin Laden. And he wants to work with Starsailor. The man's last production was in 1980. As a Spector worshipper, I'm both excited and jealous at Starsailors' good fortune (particularly because they're not all that great, they're reaching like mad to be a hybrid of 1995 Verve and Radiohead and falling far short, but mainly due to the not-easily-attainable high quality of those bands in that year).
Actually, the Spector-Starsailor pairing would be a good idea. It would churn out shimmery amped-up folk pop, sort of like the sound of Sigur Ros' "Agetis Byrjun" playing cover versions of Slowdive. But if Spector really wants to make himself useful, he should grab the nearest revolver, three of his bodyguards, get on a plane to the UK, go to Kevin Shields' house, stick a gun in his ear to wake him up at three in the afternoon, drag his ass down to the studio, and start making an album. First of all, it would be the greatest album ever. If there was a 1990's equivalent of Phil Spector, it was Kevin Shields. On the flip side, if there was a 1990's equivalent of Phil Spector, it was Kevin Shields. That is, the album would take 100 years to make and cost more than Microsoft is worth, provided that those two perfectionists could spend five minutes together without killing each other.
Sunday, January 20, 2002
The soundtrack for "The Royal Tennenbaums" hasn't left my CD changer since I bought it. Now, that was only three days ago, but still. Black comedies are one thing, but this is a black soundtrack. With the exception of the 91-second head rush of the Ramones "Judy is a Punk", and a few of Mark Mothersbaugh's tongue-in-cheek playful interludes (i.e. "Pagoda's Theme") this is an album of dark, disturbing retro-pop posing as a cash-in companion to a major motion picture. It's one thing for a soundtrack to carry morbid symphonic weight, i.e. emotion rattling films such as "Schindler's List", "The Last Temptation of Christ", any war film, and about a million others. It's an entirely different seduction when you employ not one, but two Nico songs. The last time I checked, Nico wasn't the sort of chanteuse whose name and music are prone to drip thoughts of "Hollywood Glitz". Ditto Nick Drake. Ditto Elliot Smith's moody, empty, delicate "Needle in the Hay". And who was the genius who chose the Velvet's "Stephanie Says", the most criminally overlooked uber-classic in their deep back catalogue?
In fact, the whole CD is like a collection of jewels in the rough made by a vinyl-obsessed loner, whose sole purpose was to cull a soundtrack full of artists that never show up on Hollywood soundtracks. It's less a soundtrack that a mix tape traded between profoundly sensitive goth teens in love. Hmmm. Maybe there's a Hollywood film in there after all.
In fact, the whole CD is like a collection of jewels in the rough made by a vinyl-obsessed loner, whose sole purpose was to cull a soundtrack full of artists that never show up on Hollywood soundtracks. It's less a soundtrack that a mix tape traded between profoundly sensitive goth teens in love. Hmmm. Maybe there's a Hollywood film in there after all.
Thursday, January 10, 2002
I sat through a "Biography of Grunge" on MMM last week. "Sat through" is a very diplomatic way of putting it. The program was awful, it was nothing more than a rapid-fire barrage of name dropping, soundclips, and quick facts. With the exception of the soundclips, the same ends could have been accomplished using a basic list of chronological events, the kind that appear in the appendices of history books. There was not a single mention of WHY grunge happened, i.e. WHY rock lacked soul and emotion in the 1980's, WHY Nirvana left from the middle of nowhere into mega-mainstream success, WHY people got bored of grunge in the mid-1990's (note to "Bio" producers: the "overexposure" excuse is overused to the point of no longer having any meaning, please be more specific next time if you want to make novel insights).
The main thing I took away from this program is how downright crappy most of grunge was, and how AWESOME Nirvana were compared to all their contemporaries. I was completely unenthused with grunge when it broke, so unfortunately, it wasn't until a few months after Kurt's death that I realised how great Nirvana really were. Now, hearing their songs alongside those of every other grunge band only accentuated how much brighter they shone (and still do shine) in comparison.
Oh, and I was glad about a couple other things: not a single mention of poseurs-extraordinaires Stone Temple Pilots. And they made fun of Silverchair.
Next time, maybe they'll think of mentioning the greatest grunge album ever made, that being Teenage Fanclub's "Bandwagonesque". But I doubt it.
The main thing I took away from this program is how downright crappy most of grunge was, and how AWESOME Nirvana were compared to all their contemporaries. I was completely unenthused with grunge when it broke, so unfortunately, it wasn't until a few months after Kurt's death that I realised how great Nirvana really were. Now, hearing their songs alongside those of every other grunge band only accentuated how much brighter they shone (and still do shine) in comparison.
Oh, and I was glad about a couple other things: not a single mention of poseurs-extraordinaires Stone Temple Pilots. And they made fun of Silverchair.
Next time, maybe they'll think of mentioning the greatest grunge album ever made, that being Teenage Fanclub's "Bandwagonesque". But I doubt it.
Monday, December 17, 2001
TOP 10 ALBUMS OF 2001.
1. SPIRITUALIZED -- LET IT COME DOWN. Jason Pierce is one of the finest musical geniuses of our lifetime. Deal with it.
2. LABRADFORD -- FIXED:CONTEXT. The band retreated from their shimmery, orchestral trademarks, headed into the studio with Steve Albini, and emerged with an album so full of lingering, tantalizing empty space that it was practically agoraphobic. Everything moves in slow motion, as the album passes by in some of the most lethargically forever thirty-seven minutes you'll ever hear. A brooding, meloncholy gem.
3. MOGWAI -- ROCK ACTION. Not as intense as their live shows but every bit as epic. "Young Team" had more fury, "CODY" had more conviction, but "Rock Action" carries more emotional weight. If they can put it all together on the same record, you can't help but feel that Mogwai, one day, could make the greatest album of all time.
4. DEADBEAT -- PRIMORDIA. Rumbling basslines and swampy (ahem) effects quake throughout this expansive masterpiece. The influences loom large (i.e. Chain Reaction) but this is darker and nastier than just about any predecessor. And it's painfully minimal in the best possible way.
5. DRUGSTORE -- SONGS FOR THE JETSET. Drugstore, who hadn't been heard from in years, returned from their brief brush with B-list stardom and got back to basics with a folky, lo-fi, understated gem that reminded you why anyone had cared about them in the first place. The album likely sold fewer copies than Mick Jaggers latest solo effort and will unfortunately be forgotten, if it hasn't been already.
6. A SILVER MT. ZION MEMORIAL ORCHESTRA AND TRA LA LA BAND -- BORN INTO TROUBLE AS THE SPARKS FLY UPWARD. At first, the expansion of ASMZ from a trio to a collective seemed to blanket the serenity that had been their trademark. Upon further listening, more turned out to be less. That is, they use more instuments to play fewer notes, with incredibly effective results.
7. NEW ORDER -- GET READY. Say what? The years best pop album was made by New Order? As infectious as anything they've ever done, "Get Ready" is "Brotherhood" squared and forces the dredging of the phrase "dance-rock" from the cuss words of yesteryear. Who cares, New Order invented the damned thing anyhow.
8. ARAB STRAP -- THE RED THREAD. The years' most distinctive Verve release. It may ramble (beautifully) in its weakest moments, but when its on, it invokes pangs of contempt, disgust, lust and longing, all at the same time, and often with reference to the same person.
9. PULP -- WE LOVE LIFE. The impossible has happened. Five years ago, who would have guessed that Pulp would be making some of the most challenging music in pop? This album, like its predecessor, will take months to fully digest. What makes the world go round? Sex, class struggle, fame, and now nature.
10. MARKUS GUENTNER -- IN MOLL. A fine extension of the "Regensburg ep". Gas-like beats crop up in spurts, but mainly this is beatless, serene, twinkling ambient music of the highest order. A grower, to be sure.
1. SPIRITUALIZED -- LET IT COME DOWN. Jason Pierce is one of the finest musical geniuses of our lifetime. Deal with it.
2. LABRADFORD -- FIXED:CONTEXT. The band retreated from their shimmery, orchestral trademarks, headed into the studio with Steve Albini, and emerged with an album so full of lingering, tantalizing empty space that it was practically agoraphobic. Everything moves in slow motion, as the album passes by in some of the most lethargically forever thirty-seven minutes you'll ever hear. A brooding, meloncholy gem.
3. MOGWAI -- ROCK ACTION. Not as intense as their live shows but every bit as epic. "Young Team" had more fury, "CODY" had more conviction, but "Rock Action" carries more emotional weight. If they can put it all together on the same record, you can't help but feel that Mogwai, one day, could make the greatest album of all time.
4. DEADBEAT -- PRIMORDIA. Rumbling basslines and swampy (ahem) effects quake throughout this expansive masterpiece. The influences loom large (i.e. Chain Reaction) but this is darker and nastier than just about any predecessor. And it's painfully minimal in the best possible way.
5. DRUGSTORE -- SONGS FOR THE JETSET. Drugstore, who hadn't been heard from in years, returned from their brief brush with B-list stardom and got back to basics with a folky, lo-fi, understated gem that reminded you why anyone had cared about them in the first place. The album likely sold fewer copies than Mick Jaggers latest solo effort and will unfortunately be forgotten, if it hasn't been already.
6. A SILVER MT. ZION MEMORIAL ORCHESTRA AND TRA LA LA BAND -- BORN INTO TROUBLE AS THE SPARKS FLY UPWARD. At first, the expansion of ASMZ from a trio to a collective seemed to blanket the serenity that had been their trademark. Upon further listening, more turned out to be less. That is, they use more instuments to play fewer notes, with incredibly effective results.
7. NEW ORDER -- GET READY. Say what? The years best pop album was made by New Order? As infectious as anything they've ever done, "Get Ready" is "Brotherhood" squared and forces the dredging of the phrase "dance-rock" from the cuss words of yesteryear. Who cares, New Order invented the damned thing anyhow.
8. ARAB STRAP -- THE RED THREAD. The years' most distinctive Verve release. It may ramble (beautifully) in its weakest moments, but when its on, it invokes pangs of contempt, disgust, lust and longing, all at the same time, and often with reference to the same person.
9. PULP -- WE LOVE LIFE. The impossible has happened. Five years ago, who would have guessed that Pulp would be making some of the most challenging music in pop? This album, like its predecessor, will take months to fully digest. What makes the world go round? Sex, class struggle, fame, and now nature.
10. MARKUS GUENTNER -- IN MOLL. A fine extension of the "Regensburg ep". Gas-like beats crop up in spurts, but mainly this is beatless, serene, twinkling ambient music of the highest order. A grower, to be sure.
Thursday, December 13, 2001
When I finish putting together my list of the year's top albums (weekend-ish), I'll have some explaining to do.
So I might as well cut to the chase and start explaining right now.
For someone who hums and haws about techno as much as I do, two albums in the Top 10 might seem a bit scant. Considering the time and money I spend on techno music, a mere 20% of the year's best albums would indicate that I'm either wasting my effort, or there just aren't many great techno albums out there.
I blame it all on the vinyl. Maybe it is true that there haven't been many great techno albums this year. But there's been a load of great techno. The best of it was released on vinyl. So, in past years, the solid techno stomp of Planetary Assault Systems or K-Hand's transcendent "Detroit-History" may have been top 10 shoo-ins. But when most of the stuff I buy comes in the form of ridiculously killer twenty minute assaults from labels like Kennziffer, then my standards sway significantly toward the direction of impossibly high quality. Take the best twenty minutes of Michael Burkat or Green Velvet, and it fares magnificently next to any vinyl release I've heard. Such quality is difficult to sustain over an entire album.
Perhaps it's no surprise that those Top 10 albums are both by artists who I first discovered through their vinyl releases.
So I might as well cut to the chase and start explaining right now.
For someone who hums and haws about techno as much as I do, two albums in the Top 10 might seem a bit scant. Considering the time and money I spend on techno music, a mere 20% of the year's best albums would indicate that I'm either wasting my effort, or there just aren't many great techno albums out there.
I blame it all on the vinyl. Maybe it is true that there haven't been many great techno albums this year. But there's been a load of great techno. The best of it was released on vinyl. So, in past years, the solid techno stomp of Planetary Assault Systems or K-Hand's transcendent "Detroit-History" may have been top 10 shoo-ins. But when most of the stuff I buy comes in the form of ridiculously killer twenty minute assaults from labels like Kennziffer, then my standards sway significantly toward the direction of impossibly high quality. Take the best twenty minutes of Michael Burkat or Green Velvet, and it fares magnificently next to any vinyl release I've heard. Such quality is difficult to sustain over an entire album.
Perhaps it's no surprise that those Top 10 albums are both by artists who I first discovered through their vinyl releases.
Tuesday, December 11, 2001
TOP 10 GIGS OF THE YEAR.
1. Mogwai/Bardo Pond, Phoenix Concert Theatre, May 27. My ears are still ringing. Loudest gig ever, and a damned fine emotional rollercoaster.
2. Arab Strap, Lee's Palace, April 13. I walked out of the venue longing for love. I didn't find it.
3. Philippe Cam, SAT (Montreal), June 1. The triumphant peak of Montreal's MUTEK experience, and also the most danceable (despite the absence of beats).
4. Godspeed You Black Emperor!, Opera House, September 27. This gig said more to me about what Sept. 11 was about than the last two months of CNN put together.
5. Spiritualized, Kool Haus, October 29. Once they hit their stride, it was breathtaking. Thinking about those versions of "Let It Flow" and "Don't Just Do Something" still gives me goosebumps.
6. Low, Lee's Palace, February 12. The quietest gig ever. A beguiling way to get lost in simple songs for an evening.
7. Mitchell Akiyama/Polmo Polpo, Now lounge, November 25. Akiyama's set was stripped-down minimal bliss, and Polmo Polpo played for more than 20 minutes!
8. Depeche Mode, Molson Amphitheatre, June 16. Is there any such thing as a bad DM gig? Proof positive that their post-1990 output deserves just as much acclaim as their pre-1990 output, regardless of what the retro-copyist fans wearing faded blue jeans were thinking.
9. Do Make Say Think, Ted's Wrecking Yard (RIP), September 16. Getting DMST out of church and into a proper cramped venue where they could blast the doors open made all the difference in the world.
10. Autechre, Opera House, May 9. The gigging equivalent of those challenges on Survivor where they have to stand on a log for eight hours. If that doesn't sound like your idea of fun, then obviously you weren't there. Oh wait, maybe you were.
1. Mogwai/Bardo Pond, Phoenix Concert Theatre, May 27. My ears are still ringing. Loudest gig ever, and a damned fine emotional rollercoaster.
2. Arab Strap, Lee's Palace, April 13. I walked out of the venue longing for love. I didn't find it.
3. Philippe Cam, SAT (Montreal), June 1. The triumphant peak of Montreal's MUTEK experience, and also the most danceable (despite the absence of beats).
4. Godspeed You Black Emperor!, Opera House, September 27. This gig said more to me about what Sept. 11 was about than the last two months of CNN put together.
5. Spiritualized, Kool Haus, October 29. Once they hit their stride, it was breathtaking. Thinking about those versions of "Let It Flow" and "Don't Just Do Something" still gives me goosebumps.
6. Low, Lee's Palace, February 12. The quietest gig ever. A beguiling way to get lost in simple songs for an evening.
7. Mitchell Akiyama/Polmo Polpo, Now lounge, November 25. Akiyama's set was stripped-down minimal bliss, and Polmo Polpo played for more than 20 minutes!
8. Depeche Mode, Molson Amphitheatre, June 16. Is there any such thing as a bad DM gig? Proof positive that their post-1990 output deserves just as much acclaim as their pre-1990 output, regardless of what the retro-copyist fans wearing faded blue jeans were thinking.
9. Do Make Say Think, Ted's Wrecking Yard (RIP), September 16. Getting DMST out of church and into a proper cramped venue where they could blast the doors open made all the difference in the world.
10. Autechre, Opera House, May 9. The gigging equivalent of those challenges on Survivor where they have to stand on a log for eight hours. If that doesn't sound like your idea of fun, then obviously you weren't there. Oh wait, maybe you were.
Sunday, December 09, 2001
Tuesday, December 04, 2001
After two straight years packed with more sparkling jewels than a DeBoers warehouse, this year seems a bit flat with regard to brilliant albums. There's been no shortage of *good* stuff, but where is the *great* stuff?
I am at a loss to explain why there have been an unusually large number of Verve releases this year. I first used the term "Verve release" to justify the inclusion of Drugstore's "White Magic for Lovers" in my 1998 top ten. The term is named after Wigan's finest disbanded prog-rockers, (The) Verve, who produced a few inconsistent albums, but when they were on, they were ON.
"Verve release", def.: an album characterized by a wide disparity between the strongest and weakest material, in which the strong material represents the clear majority of the total album and is strong to the point of near-godliness, whereas the (minority) weaker material evokes relative indifference.
I have often used two-thirds as my typical "clear majority". For two-thirds of "Urban Hymns", Verve showed why they were one of the top three or four bands in the world. But with songs such as "One Day" and "Catching the Butterfly", they were mortal.
Verve releases are typically not great albums. "White Magic For Lovers" is a good album, but both of Drugstore's other albums are better. Depeche Mode's "Ultra" is one of their best albums, but it is also a Verve release, as is this year's "Exciter", not to mention 1993's "Songs of Faith and Devotion". Before that, they did much better with the uniformly great "Violator" and "Music for the Masses".
Slowdive's "Just for a Day" is a fine album, but its best material doesn't even touch the best material on the follow-up, "Souvlaki". The latter is the greatest Verve release of all time. Thus, Slowdive are a rare exception -- a band whose best work was not only an outstanding album, but also a Verve release. Remember, an important mark of a Verve release is the disparity: "40 Days", "Alison" and "Here She Comes" just cream "Melon Yellow" and "Sing".
As I was saying, 2001 has been chock full of Verve releases. Perhaps the best of the lot is Arab Strap's "The Red Thread". As a prelude, I should mention that ordinarily, the disparity of the material and the track ordering have no clear correlation. With "The Red Thread", things begin relatively unmemorably, then gain considerable momentum leading through "The Devil-Tips". Then, about two minutes into "The Long Sea", over an aching guitar riff, Aidan Moffat pants the classic line "23 years of foreplay led up to this", and that precise moment signals the passage of this album into fifth gear, and the remainder is nothing short of the bee's knees.
New Order's "Get Ready" contains some awesome songs, but much like "Republic", they are mainly packed near the beginning, with the quality slipping noticably by albums' end.
I am at a loss to explain why there have been an unusually large number of Verve releases this year. I first used the term "Verve release" to justify the inclusion of Drugstore's "White Magic for Lovers" in my 1998 top ten. The term is named after Wigan's finest disbanded prog-rockers, (The) Verve, who produced a few inconsistent albums, but when they were on, they were ON.
"Verve release", def.: an album characterized by a wide disparity between the strongest and weakest material, in which the strong material represents the clear majority of the total album and is strong to the point of near-godliness, whereas the (minority) weaker material evokes relative indifference.
I have often used two-thirds as my typical "clear majority". For two-thirds of "Urban Hymns", Verve showed why they were one of the top three or four bands in the world. But with songs such as "One Day" and "Catching the Butterfly", they were mortal.
Verve releases are typically not great albums. "White Magic For Lovers" is a good album, but both of Drugstore's other albums are better. Depeche Mode's "Ultra" is one of their best albums, but it is also a Verve release, as is this year's "Exciter", not to mention 1993's "Songs of Faith and Devotion". Before that, they did much better with the uniformly great "Violator" and "Music for the Masses".
Slowdive's "Just for a Day" is a fine album, but its best material doesn't even touch the best material on the follow-up, "Souvlaki". The latter is the greatest Verve release of all time. Thus, Slowdive are a rare exception -- a band whose best work was not only an outstanding album, but also a Verve release. Remember, an important mark of a Verve release is the disparity: "40 Days", "Alison" and "Here She Comes" just cream "Melon Yellow" and "Sing".
As I was saying, 2001 has been chock full of Verve releases. Perhaps the best of the lot is Arab Strap's "The Red Thread". As a prelude, I should mention that ordinarily, the disparity of the material and the track ordering have no clear correlation. With "The Red Thread", things begin relatively unmemorably, then gain considerable momentum leading through "The Devil-Tips". Then, about two minutes into "The Long Sea", over an aching guitar riff, Aidan Moffat pants the classic line "23 years of foreplay led up to this", and that precise moment signals the passage of this album into fifth gear, and the remainder is nothing short of the bee's knees.
New Order's "Get Ready" contains some awesome songs, but much like "Republic", they are mainly packed near the beginning, with the quality slipping noticably by albums' end.
Monday, December 03, 2001
Stereolab's newest, "Sound Dust", is far from their best work. However, a long and seemingly lost prophecy of theirs came unfortunately true this year. 1992's "Lo-Fi" ep is Stereolab's most criminally ignored release, probably because none of the material featured there ever appeared on any of the lauded "Switched On" compilations. But it's one of the best releases they've ever had -- it expands on the formula of their early singles and their debut album "Peng" by chugging out four of the loudest, nastiest, and catchiest two-chord monsters that they ever recorded.
On the track "Laisser Faire", Laetitia sings the following:
It will come to us as a shock/but we're letting it happen/people with their carelessness/goverments with their laisser faire/ ... the world is becoming more right-wing/ ... I can feel it more and more/within ten years we'll have a war
The 'Lab have made thinly-veiled comments about US imperialism in other lyrics (i.e. "Wow and Flutter") but this one made a far stronger declaration, taking precise aim to the point of making an actual prediction (and it's a far better tune as well). In 1997, somebody asked Laetitia during a web chat if she still believed there'd be a war in five years. At the time, the threat of world peace breaking out seemed a greater possibility than at any other time in my lifetime, and in my opinion, pop's most famous Marxist avoided giving a direct answer.
And now, this.
On the track "Laisser Faire", Laetitia sings the following:
It will come to us as a shock/but we're letting it happen/people with their carelessness/goverments with their laisser faire/ ... the world is becoming more right-wing/ ... I can feel it more and more/within ten years we'll have a war
The 'Lab have made thinly-veiled comments about US imperialism in other lyrics (i.e. "Wow and Flutter") but this one made a far stronger declaration, taking precise aim to the point of making an actual prediction (and it's a far better tune as well). In 1997, somebody asked Laetitia during a web chat if she still believed there'd be a war in five years. At the time, the threat of world peace breaking out seemed a greater possibility than at any other time in my lifetime, and in my opinion, pop's most famous Marxist avoided giving a direct answer.
And now, this.
Friday, November 30, 2001
The year in review will start today!
DON'T CALL THEM COMEBACKS. One of the best things about New Order's latest, "Get Ready", or almost any New Order album for that matter, is how much it sounds like New Order. This New Order album kicks off with the single "Crystal", which begins with a delayed intro of keyboards and soaring female vocals. Then, the beat kicks in, and within ten seconds of that happening, you hear the completely unmistakeable guitar playing which can only belong in a New Order song. In this way, New Order are a lot like Aphex Twin, in the sense that anyone who's ever been a fan of New Order can hear a new New Order song and know before now that it's a new New Order song, even if they've never heard the song, because it's part of the magic of New Order that everything they do sounds so much like New Order, which isn't to say that all New Orders' stuff sounds the same, because that's certainly not true, since New Order have been one of the most fearlessly original bands in the post-punk era. New Order's are just one of those artists that you can immediately recognize as themselves (and Barney from New Order's aforementioned guitar playing just screams "New Order!", it's as distinctive to the New Order mystique as Hooky from New Order's more vaunted bass playing). The funny thing is how New Order sound more like New Order as they age. For instance, "Technique", their most original album, kicks off with "Fine Time", which at the time, sounded nothing like New Order, until you got a few minutes into it, at which time Hooky's New Order bass playing came to the forefront and you could breathe a sigh of relief and say "Ahh, now THIS sounds like New Order" and then further relax as that unmistakeable New Order guitar playing breaks open the second track, "All the Way". On the other hand, when New Order's 1993 album "Republic" (which was looking to be the last New Order album, much more so than all the other times when it looked like there wouldn't be any more New Order albums) was released, I'd also recently bought New Order's 1983 album "Power, Corruption, and Lies", and I would play tricks on friends by playing "Leave Me Alone" and those in the know would immediately ask "Is this New Order?", and I would say "Yes, it is New Order, but it's from 1983" and they'd say, "No way, it sounds exactly like New Order", and I knew that they meant it sounded so much like 1993 New Order, even though it was 1983 New Order. Similarly, with "Get Ready", New Order have made "Brotherhood Part II" just like New Order made "Power, Corruption and Lies Part II" with "Republic". That is, the latter two albums displayed New Order's dance-y tendencies embedded those records' rather dour overall mood, while the former two are extremely guitar heavy, collectively comprising New Order's most rocking statements to date.
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The new Curve album, "Gift", can't be considered a comeback record. For one thing, they never really left the music business. In 1994, they announced they'd be taking a "hiatus" and repeatedly stressed that Curve were not breaking up, but basically everyone ignored that and considered the band to be broken up for the next five years. Well gosh, Debbie Smith went off and joined Echobelly, and goodness knows when your guitarist runs off to join a legendarily successful and groundbreaking band like Echobelly then you'd better just call it quits [note: that was sarcasm]. Anyway, if Curve had a comeback album, then it was certainly 1999's "Come Clean", which had them plunging headlong into the electronica boom and making an album laced with thundering neo-industrial beat. In other words, it sounded nothing like the Curve we'd ever known, even though the actual results were patchily successful. At the time, I likened it to Sonic Youth's "A Thousand Leaves". Both bands engaged in new (for them) musical textures, which seemed the result of skimming ideas from the bands that in turn had been influenced by them many years earlier.
"Gift" is a return to Curve's classic sound of 1992-3. It still sounds remarkably contemporary, in no small part due to Garbage, Republica, et al having made careers out of ripping off Curve and helping to preserve their memory in the process. Like other Curve albums, there is some unnevenness in the material, as usual, the high points are truly remarkable. "Perish" may be the best thing they've ever done. And I'm not just saying that because Kevin Shields plays guitar on it.
No really, I'm not.
Stop looking at me like that.
DON'T CALL THEM COMEBACKS. One of the best things about New Order's latest, "Get Ready", or almost any New Order album for that matter, is how much it sounds like New Order. This New Order album kicks off with the single "Crystal", which begins with a delayed intro of keyboards and soaring female vocals. Then, the beat kicks in, and within ten seconds of that happening, you hear the completely unmistakeable guitar playing which can only belong in a New Order song. In this way, New Order are a lot like Aphex Twin, in the sense that anyone who's ever been a fan of New Order can hear a new New Order song and know before now that it's a new New Order song, even if they've never heard the song, because it's part of the magic of New Order that everything they do sounds so much like New Order, which isn't to say that all New Orders' stuff sounds the same, because that's certainly not true, since New Order have been one of the most fearlessly original bands in the post-punk era. New Order's are just one of those artists that you can immediately recognize as themselves (and Barney from New Order's aforementioned guitar playing just screams "New Order!", it's as distinctive to the New Order mystique as Hooky from New Order's more vaunted bass playing). The funny thing is how New Order sound more like New Order as they age. For instance, "Technique", their most original album, kicks off with "Fine Time", which at the time, sounded nothing like New Order, until you got a few minutes into it, at which time Hooky's New Order bass playing came to the forefront and you could breathe a sigh of relief and say "Ahh, now THIS sounds like New Order" and then further relax as that unmistakeable New Order guitar playing breaks open the second track, "All the Way". On the other hand, when New Order's 1993 album "Republic" (which was looking to be the last New Order album, much more so than all the other times when it looked like there wouldn't be any more New Order albums) was released, I'd also recently bought New Order's 1983 album "Power, Corruption, and Lies", and I would play tricks on friends by playing "Leave Me Alone" and those in the know would immediately ask "Is this New Order?", and I would say "Yes, it is New Order, but it's from 1983" and they'd say, "No way, it sounds exactly like New Order", and I knew that they meant it sounded so much like 1993 New Order, even though it was 1983 New Order. Similarly, with "Get Ready", New Order have made "Brotherhood Part II" just like New Order made "Power, Corruption and Lies Part II" with "Republic". That is, the latter two albums displayed New Order's dance-y tendencies embedded those records' rather dour overall mood, while the former two are extremely guitar heavy, collectively comprising New Order's most rocking statements to date.
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The new Curve album, "Gift", can't be considered a comeback record. For one thing, they never really left the music business. In 1994, they announced they'd be taking a "hiatus" and repeatedly stressed that Curve were not breaking up, but basically everyone ignored that and considered the band to be broken up for the next five years. Well gosh, Debbie Smith went off and joined Echobelly, and goodness knows when your guitarist runs off to join a legendarily successful and groundbreaking band like Echobelly then you'd better just call it quits [note: that was sarcasm]. Anyway, if Curve had a comeback album, then it was certainly 1999's "Come Clean", which had them plunging headlong into the electronica boom and making an album laced with thundering neo-industrial beat. In other words, it sounded nothing like the Curve we'd ever known, even though the actual results were patchily successful. At the time, I likened it to Sonic Youth's "A Thousand Leaves". Both bands engaged in new (for them) musical textures, which seemed the result of skimming ideas from the bands that in turn had been influenced by them many years earlier.
"Gift" is a return to Curve's classic sound of 1992-3. It still sounds remarkably contemporary, in no small part due to Garbage, Republica, et al having made careers out of ripping off Curve and helping to preserve their memory in the process. Like other Curve albums, there is some unnevenness in the material, as usual, the high points are truly remarkable. "Perish" may be the best thing they've ever done. And I'm not just saying that because Kevin Shields plays guitar on it.
No really, I'm not.
Stop looking at me like that.
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