Audio Zealot

Arctic Monkeys: Live at the Hollywood Palladium

2011-06-06T22:47:00.001-07:00

Last year, in a late-night moment of weakness (OK, on a drunken impulse), I purchased a ticket to see the Arctic Monkeys, knowing there was a very slim chance I would actually attend the show. It was a $20 ticket for small show at a biker bar venue in the middle of Death Valley, 4 hours away from where I live. Though the investment was not large, I woke up the next morning and laughed off the foolish notion that I would drive 8 hours round trip for a single show. I’m a fan, but I’m not that big a fan… of any band.

Still, I love those seclusive Monkeys, and the fact is they schedule very few US tour dates. When the announcement came that they would return to Southern California for a date at the Hollywood Palladium on June 3, I jumped at the chance to see them this time around (not requiring travel to the far corners of the state!) With only 11 shows across the US to promote the release of their new album Suck It and See, I was thrilled to have the chance see them in the small, sold out venue.

One of Arctic Monkeys greatest strengths in the studio is magnified in their live show; they seamlessly shift tempo within songs, providing energetic ebbs and flows. Their audience may be swaying gently in one moment, while eagerly awaiting that upcoming chorus where they will jump in the air, shake their fists, and shout out loud. At the heart of this strength is drummer Matt Helders; holy hell, the force is strong in this one! “Brianstorm,” off of their album Favourite Worst Nightmare is among the most lightning-fast drumming you will ever hear, and to witness that song live is proof that Helders is indeed as quick and precise as the studio version suggests. Throughout the show, I was continually amazed by the puppeteer effect Helders’ playing had over the movement of the crowd.

The enthusiastic crowd did not let up on energetic outpouring throughout the entire set, even when the band played the less familiar songs of their new (unreleased) album. Clearly, I was not the only one who had been live streaming the new material off of the Monkeys’ website. In an hour and a half set that was an even mix of about 4 songs from each album, the band played new songs “Brick by Brick,” “Don’t Sit Down ‘Cause I’ve Moved Your Chair,” “She’s Thunderstorms,” “The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala,” and “Reckless Serenade” to a crowd that already knew the lyrics. Naturally, the night’s highlights and the songs that stirred the greatest fervor were old favorites “Still Take You Home,” “The View From the Afternoon,” and the especially fun “When the Sun Goes Down.”

The Arctic Monkeys are quite impressive, with all band members playing well off one another’s strengths. The rhythm section is so versatile, and when it slows tempo and allows the lead guitar to weave in bluesy, acid rock riffs, the result is the sexier, more controlled sound that marks their evolution with each new album from angsty townies to world traveling rock stars. The new album has a mellower feel than the earlier albums, a consequence of more thoughtful and diverse arrangements in which the rhythm section and guitar playing trade off and compliment each other well.

As I’ve said before, and it bears repeating, Alex Turner is a smart and witty lyricist. He often writes from an observational viewpoint. In a crowded room of people, he is likely the wallflower, quietly drinking in the interactions of those around him, and taking careful note of appearance and body language. I have yet to scour the lyrics of the new album, but my initial impression is that it does not reflect his best lyrical work. However, I think a move toward lyrical simplicity is intentional here; it fits an early 1960 retro-rock feel that permeates the new album. A song like “Brick by Brick” has predictable wordplay and is lyrically repetitive, but such qualities make it one of the catchiest “throwback” songs on the album.

Members of the Arctic Monkeys, just 19 years old when they wrote their first album and became national treasures in England, demonstrate growth and maturity with each new album release. Some fans may miss the more aggressive sound of early albums, as the band continues to explore psychedelic, blues, and surf rock genres. But if you drop a naysayer into the middle of Friday night’s mosh pit I think they would find that the band has not abandoned their old sound at all. A mix of old and new material flowed seamlessly together to create a satisfying, well-balanced live experience.

-AZ

Interview: The Silent Comedy

2011-04-20T19:01:00.000-07:00

I am particularly fascinated by certain sociological characteristics of rock and roll bands – the nomadic lifestyle, the personal and working relationships behind the creativity, and the inspirations that drive that creativity. There is another pattern of interest- a correlation between a devoted and deeply connected fan base with a band’s ability to use principles of religious congregation in the writing and delivery of their music. I’m not talking about a particular denomination or belief, but rather, a mastery in rallying a community together, inspiring a feeling of belonging, and facilitating that cathartic release of energy at a rock show that parallels the historic use of religion for that function.

Going into my interview with San Diego-based band The Silent Comedy, I knew they had a unique insight into these three themes – a nomadic existence, a sense of broader community, and integration of music and religion – that long preceded their life as a working band. On a sunny day in Santa Barbara, brothers and band founders Joshua and Jeremiah Zimmerman sat with me in the park and shared some of the profound life experiences that shaped their worldview, and now offers layers of depth to their songwriting craft.

Jeremiah and Joshua, sons of a Pentecostal minister, spent their early years in Orange County, California. When Joshua was 12 and Jeremiah was 15, their parents sold all possessions and uprooted the family to South Asia to pursue missionary work and to scout a location to open a holistic medicine clinic. For two years, the brothers and their parents, along with another family, lived out of backpacks, moving from India, Nepal, Thailand, and then on to parts of Europe and the United States. I asked them to talk to me a bit about how those experiences shaped them as songwriters and as traveling performers.

Jeremiah: It was a very strange experience to have at that age, not doing anything in a permanent way, getting rid of everything and just becoming vagabonds for a while. Some places we would roll in and leave the next day, some places we would stay for months. And the bug for touring came from that. I am happiest when on the road.

Joshua: We became completely placeless and we made peace with the fact that we were not going to see any of our friends. You really become kind of anchorless. And that is something that people have said about our music.

When asked whether the musical traditions of the places they visited had an influence on the sound of the Silent Comedy:

Joshua: It wasn’t necessarily the musical traditions of wherever we were, but it was more of a feeling. And also just the dark aspects – our outlook on the world changed drastically when we went on that trip. To go from an affluent upper-class area to having no possessions, being on the streets of Calcutta… I don’t think I had ever seen a dead person before. We went to Mother Theresa’s Home for the Dying and they were carrying a body out when we arrived. Kids on the street without jawbones (a deformity of malnourishment) would hold on to your clothes, begging for money.

Jeremiah: And there were some situations that felt hostile. We were in Dehradun (India) during elections and people were getting killed on Election Day, and there was just a lot of tension. At a young age to experience that, it changes you fundamentally. The difference between being aware of the things that are going on in other parts of the world when you are in the States, versus experiencing it firsthand – you realize the enormity of problems that exist in places where everyday life is [wondering] “will I make it through today?” So that did influence our sound, I think, just experiencing that that kind of uncertainty in the environment around us.

Joshua: Coming back to Orange County, it was tough to acclimate. We were a bit removed… you know, we’ve always been weird. We see in our music now; we just can’t embrace the norms of subject matter that people write about, like love songs. We can try to write love songs but they come out a little warped.

Part of the “placeless” feel of the songs in the Silent Comedy catalog is that they conjure imagery of migratory characters from a different time in American history, notably late 19th/ early 20th Century – Wild West prospectors, Prohibition-era bootleggers, Vaudeville performers, and traveling preachers. So where does this imagery come from?

Jeremiah: Our dad was a minister in the Assemblies of God, a Southern Pentecostal denomination and so the whole tent-revival-snake-handling stuff – they weren’t as crazy as that - but still in that tradition. So we grew up in that environment.

Joshua: We try to get to deep human issues in songwriting, like the dirtiness of humanity mixed with the desire for redemption. The tent revival thing was huge during the Great Depression. So when we think of the events that evoke those forces in the world, we naturally go back in time because to sing about the grinding pressures of life, its not that you missed your morning latte, it is more about immediate survival.

On writing songs that are imaginative storytelling vs. autobiographical:

Joshua: I always thought it was a really cool thing to write songs that are totally in character. [“Exploitation” from the perspective of a sexual victim] is about the human trafficking trade. My dad is involved in an organization to stop human trafficking and I was interested in the work that they do. I read case studies on their website and that song came out as a way of kind of purging my brain from the horrific details from those case studies.

Joshua: Some songs, you take what has happened in your life and you put it in a fictional context, because sometimes it’s easier to not be as confessional. Like the song “49” is a real personal situation transposed into a situation that occurs during the Gold Rush.

Jeremiah: I think some vagueness is good. I don’t ever want to be so specific (in autobiographical songwriting) that I am the only one who can relate what I’m talking about.

In addition to Jeremiah (piano) and Joshua (bass), who are the primary vocalists of the band, the Silent Comedy is also comprised of Justin Buchanan (banjo and mandolin), Chad Lee (percussion), and Tim Graves (Guitar and Harmonica). Their live show, probably best described by Joshua as a “whiskey-fueled tent revival,” is a boisterous dancing-stomping-shouting celebration that leaves the crowd feeling like participants, not just spectators. An appreciation for showmanship and inclusiveness, which the brothers acquired from years of attending Pentecostal tent revivals, shines through in the Silent Comedy’s live performance.

Jeremiah: Being raised in that kind of church environment where the crowd is involved and everyone is participating and raising their hands, it was always a pet peeve of mine at rock shows when the cool kids would be standing there with their arms crossed. If you’re going to be there and be into music, just drop the act, get into it, be a little foolish. If people are going to come out to see us, we have got to be worth seeing, and I think that some of those early (tent revival) experiences inspired that. That kind of showmanship, those traveling preacher types are great at that.

Joshua: It’s one thing to see a band whip people into frenzy, it’s even more incredible to watch a single guy, without a band, whip people into frenzy. There is a lot of force behind it. If we had been brought up in a different religious tradition, we would have a different approach to it. In Catholicism or Anglicanism, people come to sit and observe and hear someone talk, but in Pentecostalism people don’t come to observe. It gets chaotic and energetic. People come to have an experience, and that is what we bring to the music.

The Silent Comedy indeed delivers a phenomenal live experience, and I came away from it with an overarching feeling inclusiveness. It was as if their sound was the equivalent of outstretched arms, beckoning the crowd closer so that we could all, collectively, stomp harder and sing louder. Many bands, probably without realizing it, erect a wall between them the audience, a division between performer and spectator. I found the Silent Comedy to be refreshingly accessible, both in conversation and also as performers. They clearly operate under the philosophy that they are part of a greater community that includes the new faces of each town they visit. It is no surprise that they are collecting new loyal and devoted fans with every live show.

I may be a heathen, but I’ll worship in the church of the Silent Comedy any day of the week. And twice on Sunday.

-AZ

The White Stripes.

2011-02-08T17:40:00.000-08:00

Since the White Stripes announced their break up last week, I have struggled to find the words to celebrate what that band has meant to rock and roll over the last decade, and what it has meant to me personally. It feels inappropriate to eulogize a band in which the dominant personality, Jack White, continues to prolifically make music in other bands. Further, in band eulogy it is commonplace to overstate artistic genius. While Jack White is a mad genius of sorts, the White Stripes were flawed, and they purposely strived for imperfection. Fortunately, they came into our lives at a time when a resurgence of dirty imperfection in rock an roll was sorely needed, and that is why they are often credited as modern saviors of rock.

To appreciate fans’ heartsick reaction to word that Jack and Meg White would no longer make music together, one must recall the bleak landscape of rock and roll when the Stripes emerged on the music scene. By the late 1990’s, popular music had become a homogenized mess of boy bands, pop tarts, and whatever awful category of music includes Creed, Limp Bizkit, and Linkin Park. Record labels had seemingly hijacked artistic freedom, and music making was reduced to a formulaic process that left little variation in finished product. Everything new and emerging at the time felt fake, dishonest, and shallow. Fans of grittier guitar and drum-driven rock relied on new releases from old favorites, bands who had emerged in a different time and had managed to hold on to their creative integrity.

Then came along the White Stripes, a duo that shocked every sensibility accustomed to the tidy, glossy, buffed and polished state of music at the turn of the millennium. Meg and Jack - a drummer of basic skill and simplicity, and a guitar master with a raw and grating vocal - were anything but polished. But their calling card of a simple drum beat as the backdrop to killer guitar riff – an obvious formula that had been dormant for too long – was the freshest sound the world of rock music had heard in years. The simplicity of the White Stripes – two people with homegrown style, making heartfelt blues-rock, without back-up singers, dancers, and entourages – offered a stark realization of how so many musical acts had lost focus of what is most important: the music.

In a previous post, I expressed my gratitude for the White Stripes and the pivotal role they played for me as a music fan. Prior to my introduction to them, I was stuck in (mostly) a classic rock rut, listening to the same music I had loved for years, made decades before. I felt hopeless that a band from my generation would come along and live up to the songwriting integrity of the music I was raised on. I have said before that my journey as a music fan thus far can be divided into two eras: before I discovered the White Stripes and after I discovered them (specifically, that line drawn from first listen to the “Elephant” album). They were the bridge that linked my love of classic rock, including Led Zeppelin and Bob Dylan, to a new period of music discovery that has come since that first listen to “Elephant.” Simply put, the White Stripes were the first band to come along that made me believe in my own generation of music makers.

It wasn’t just the music that made the White Stripes so intriguing. It was a dichotomy between the brash, honest, in-your-face quality to their sound, and the enigmatic image in which Jack and Meg presented themselves to the world. A divorced couple, claiming to be siblings, they had an on-stage chemistry that was hard to pinpoint as familial, friendly, or outright sexual. Meg’s painfully shy demeanor in interviews, her inability to look up from behind a curtain of hair and a voice so inaudible that she required subtitles, gave the viewer the uncomfortable feeling that she was not a participant by her own free will. Contrast with Jack, part bluesman prodigy, part cunning businessman, driven, eccentric, provocative, perhaps even a bit tyrannical. To witness their public interaction begged the question “What the hell goes on with those two behind closed doors?” Image and interpersonal dynamics are always a component of fan interest in a band, and the White Stripes remain a mystery in that regard.

As Jack and Meg White end their career together, they leave as their legacy a few important lessons and reminders: 1) With imagination and the right equipment, two people are capable of captivating audiences at the world’s largest venues and rocking harder than most bands two or three times their size. 2) Cool is a premium in this industry, and the coolest thing a band can be is enigmatic. There is a fine line between keeping fans interested and sharing too much, and the White Stripes leave current and future fans puzzled by their eccentricity as a duo. 3) Sometimes rock and roll is a dish best served raw, and all of the imperfections in a live experience – a guitar slightly out of tune or a note sung off key – assert that human error is preferable to technological perfection.

And so, the book on the White Stripes is closed and put on the shelf. While Jack continues with a number of projects, the reclusive Meg may slip off into hiding, only coaxed out now and again to appear as a guest in the studio or on stage. But the core philosophies of the White Stripes live on, both through Jack White’s ongoing projects, and in new bands that have and will been inspired by the Stripes. In the history of rock and roll, we can peg their influence on the genre right up there among the greats.

-AZ

My Most Played Albums of 2010

2010-12-30T18:18:00.000-08:00

This humble website is a diary, the place where I document the music that gets under my skin and leaves a lasting impression in my heart and mind. Therefore, as 2010 comes to a close, I feel compelled to discuss the albums that got the most play this year at Casa de AZ. This is not a compilation of the best albums released this year, but you will find plenty of those from various music magazines and bloggers.

This is not a "Best Of" list because I do not enjoy reviewing albums; the critical dissection of an album's components tends to take the fun out of the listening experience. But also, I do not believe that an album must be perfectly written or flawlessly produced to become a meaningful soundtrack to a time and place in your life. Rather, an album can become special to the listener for a various subjective reasons; perhaps it plays background to joyful times spent with people you love, or offers comfort during anxious or troubled times. So, with that, I give you the albums that made up my 2010 soundtrack. Some I consider near perfection, others… let’s just say were perfectly imperfect. Each of them found a place in my mind, some a place in my heart, and a few will still stay with me for many years to come.

Two albums this year stood apart from the rest, and it comes as no surprise that those two albums are popping up on all the rock critics’ year-end lists. One album offered the ideal blues-rock soundtrack to a sunny day barbecue and drinks with friends, and turned a long-established-but-little-known working band an instant household name (The Black Keys). The other highly acclaimed album once again verified that the world’s biggest indie band continues to bleed out thought-provoking themes with passion and integrity (Arcade Fire). Those albums were a cut above the rest.

Most of the albums I enjoyed this year were met with lukewarm reception by critics and have not been featured prominently on year-end lists. To be perfectly honest, despite keeping them in heavy rotation throughout the year, I admit to my own less-than-totally-awestruck reaction to a few of them. But love and loyalty – to a voice or to a style – kept me playing them again and again. One near and dear band produced the soundtrack to my Summer 2010 road trips (The Gaslight Anthem), while another album was a highly anticipated solo effort to which I was sentimentally attached before the very first play (Brandon Flowers). One album, a sophomore effort, did not stack up to the artist’s debut, but her talent and wordsmith ability kept me listening anyway (Laura Marling).

Fortunately, the year introduced me to a number of new bands that caught my attention and made me excited for future releases. A couple of newcomers produced catchy “retro” albums that put a refreshing spin on decades-old music genres by including brass and organs to their sound, one in the style of 1940’s big-band (April Smith and the Last Picture Show) and the other channeling a 1960’s Motown sound (Fitz and the Tantrums). Another new favorite dealt out gritty blues-garage rock with catchy hooks and harmony (TAB the Band). A criminally harsh rating from Pitchfork - the most cynical online publication in the music world - piqued my interest in one new band (Mumford & Sons). As I anticipated, that album’s greatest crime was its overtly romantic themes and overuse of the words “soul,” “love,” “heart,” and meteorological metaphors. I, however, found those flaws to be endearing and beautiful. Lastly, came the “dark horse” album, swooping up my attention in this final month of the year and dominating my holiday playlist with it’s grabbing intro song and surprisingly coherent mix of post-punk, indie, folk, and soul genres throughout the album (Transfer).

A year ago, I had never heard of half of the bands that turned out my most played new album releases. Therefore, 2010 was year of discovery, and I hope that many of the bands that made up my year’s soundtrack have the staying power to continue to produce great new music in the future. It is exciting to think of the new talent that 2011 may bring; as with the start of each new year, I eagerly await to be sonically amazed.

My 2010 Most Played Albums:

1. Brothers, The Black Keys
2. The Suburbs, Arcade Fire
3. American Slang, Gaslight Anthem
4. Songs for a Sinking Ship, April Smith and the Last Picture Show
5. Zoo Noises, TAB the Band
6. Sigh No More, Mumford & Sons
7. Flamingo, Brandon Flowers
8. I Speak Because I Can, Laura Marling
9. Pickin’ Up the Pieces, Fitz and the Tantrums
10. Future Selves, Transfer

-AZ

Looking For Love… In a Music Subscription

2010-11-29T17:43:00.000-08:00

It’s been a long time since I fell in love, since I found that heart-fluttering infatuation that leaves you awe-struck, inspired, and feigning for more. In its absence, the landscape seems a little more drab and colorless. And so, with the fear that discovery of my greatest loves are but a thing of the past, I put my 20th century notions of courtship behind me and embraced the modern ways of cyber-searching for love. I go online, create a personal profile, and begin my quest. Wait, I am talking about music… right? YES! Yes I am! I signed up for my first online music subscription with Rdio, and so it begins, a renewed commitment to search for new musical love affairs.

I don’t know what took me so long to get a music subscription, but it might be the best $5 I spend each month. I jokingly compare the search for good music to frustrations of dating, the latter I admit to knowing nothing about. But the fact is that there is a lot of very bad music out there, and sometimes you have to kiss many frogs, so to speak, before you find a prince. Not only that; music is so subjective that even your most trusted tastemakers – friends, bloggers, etc. – will highly recommend music that will not please your personal palette. Therefore, a music subscription offers commitment-free access to explore new music to your hearts content! It is the ultimate tool for the music populist – don’t take other peoples word on what good music is, just look it up using your preferred music subscription service and decide for yourself.

Only a few weeks in to my subscription, I have not yet found any new favorites. However, I have enjoyed getting to know a few of this year’s new releases without shelling out the dough. Here are some of the albums that I have been playing, via my shiny new music subscription.

Pickin’ Up the Pieces, Fitz and the Tantrums
A funkified, modernized Motown sound. Great male and female vocals, vibrant horns, and a lead singer that sounds a bit like Daryl Hall (not that I’m holding that against him). In fact, this album is my favorite find so far, and I will purchase it for my library.

The Lady Killer, Cee-Lo Green
One-half of Gnarls Barkley, Cee-Lo was the vocalist on the catchy Gnarls tune “Crazy.” What is not to like about a whole album containing that soulful vocal? Also, he managed to turn a song called “Fuck You” into a benevolent-sounding and very catchy pop song.

My Beautiful Dark Twisted, Fantasy, Kanye West
This is the most hyped album of the year and ridiculously praised by the music community. Kanye’s inability to pen lyrics that are not a self-indulgent pity party about how misunderstood he is reminds me why I will never understand the allure of hip-hop. But hey, I tried.

Mt. Desolation, Mt. Desolation
Very listenable, country-tinged rock; complete with delicate guitar play, pleasant vocal, and folk storytelling. I can’t say this album blows me away, but I do continue to play it.

Out of Our Minds, Melissa Auf der Maur
The best thing to come out of 90’s alt-rock bands Hole and Smashing Pumpkins is multi-instrumentalist Auf der Maur. Out of Our Minds is a concept album that plays like a graphic novel fantasy. Sounds nerdy, right? The music and production is beautiful, grandiose, and feels destined to be the score for a dark, off-Broadway musical.

With the end of the year rapidly approaching, “Best Of 2010” and “Top 10 Album” lists are popping up all over the web. A music subscription from one of the various providers – Rdio, MOG, Spotify, Ping – is a great alternative to buying artists’ albums you’ve never heard based on recommendations.

-AZ

Why Arcade Fire Is Worthy of All That Praise

2010-10-11T19:13:00.000-07:00

I finally saw for myself, and all I had heard was true; Arcade Fire is indeed extraordinary. They deserve every accolade that each new album, each breathtaking live performance, yields. Whatever one may feel about their sound, they are, irrefutably, a band that stands head and shoulders above contemporaries in quality of artistic expression and the pure joy that radiates from their stage performance. While their songs document the angst of a generation, their live performance reminds us that life happens in this exhilarating moment, as we sing and dance with friends and strangers.

Sometimes blatantly, sometimes inadvertently, rock and pop music provide a cultural account of a given time and place. Some popular music serves only for entertainment, providing escape and frivolity, while offering clues about the collective mindset of a particular time (think Disco). But, it is the music that is purposeful in its social documentation that we typically consider “art.” Artists survey the cultural landscape, challenge us to face what we may instinctively turn from, and create beautiful and poetic starting points for discussion. Remarkably, Arcade Fire does not sacrifice any of the entertainment value of their music by filling it with provocative themes. They successfully marry the frivolous and the somber, the whimsical and the weighty, becoming this generation’s most socially conscience “art” band in which people actually want to listen.

With the release of Arcade Fire’s third album, The Suburbs, they have solidified themselves as the rock and roll documentarians of this era. The band has packed more meaningful commentary into a single album than most artists convey in a lifetime of work. It is stunning, honest, and heartbreakingly pinpoints the collective anxiety of a generation that is economically unsettled and missing a sense of community in the midst of a hyper-connected digital age.

As someone who came into social and political awareness before social media networks became our communication, before the 24-hour news cycle became our information, and before reality television became our entertainment, I understand the sentiment conveyed by lyricist Win Butler on this album. He indirectly asks these questions: Have we lost our attention span for thoughtful discourse (“We Used to Wait”)? Have computers stripped us of meaningful human connection with one another (“Deep Blue”)? Is a cultural gap between the “modern kids” and older cohorts widening (“Rococo”)?

I use to write. I used to write letters. I used to sign my name. I used to sleep at night before the flashing lights settled deep in my brain. –“We Used To Wait”

Often presented as a foreboding dream - the word “dream” occurs consistently throughout the album - songs follow themes of lonely detachment in the modern age, environmental doom, the decay of the middle class suburbs, and a longing for a simpler era. Even though the album alludes to profound concerns about the direction we are heading, it is written from a personal voice and an inclusive viewpoint. Therefore, it does not come off in the least bit preachy or self-righteous. It is observational, even confessional, and the sadness and longing in the songs precludes it from feeling activist or political.

Can you understand why I want a daughter while I’m still young? I want to hold her hand and show her some beauty before this damage is done. –“The Suburbs”

The shift in tone from the Neon Bible album to The Suburbs, with respect the theme of capitalist greed, is notable. Released in 2007 to a climate of mounting frustration with Bush-era politics, Neon Bible was a call to arms for the citizenry to wise up to, among other things, the dangerous marriage of government and big business. I would not label Arcade Fire an activist band, but there was unmistakable anger and frustration in Neon Bible, with traces of finger pointing. However, the introspective nature of the new album suggests that Win Butler no longer relates to the problems he sees from the outsider perspective he took on Neon Bible. It would seem that maturity and a few years of self-reflection between albums has led him to take ownership of the problems around him, even if they are not his alone to bear. Ultimately, this makes the message more relatable.

You never trust a millionaire quoting the Sermon on the Mount. I used to think I was not like them but I'm beginning to have my doubts. –“City With No Children”

For all the seriousness embedded in Arcade Fire songs, their live show is the most joyful outpouring of energy I have witnessed, both by the band and from the audience. Looking down at the stage, it seemed like the band members were bright and colorful wind-up dolls, dancing and playing with exaggerated whole-body movements. Each owned all parts of the stage as they switched instruments and remained dynamic throughout the entire set. Regine Chassagne is particularly magnetic in stage presence, as too is Will Butler; both showing amazing energy as they played a multitude of instruments and danced around the stage (or in Will’s case, ran through the audience with his drum).

From the opening song until the unbelievable closer, “Wake Up,” the audience was on its feet chanting the words and clapping the beats. I had heard for years that an Arcade Fire show was a truly unique experience; what made it special was the feeling that those musicians wanted nothing more in that moment than to be playing for us. Arcade Fire is a band that clearly loves making music together, and they would be giving the same enthusiasm playing to a house full of guests as to a stadium full of concertgoers. It is not often that you walk away from a show feeling honored to have bared witness to a performance, but that is how I felt leaving the show that night.

I’ll leave you with links to a fantastic BBC Culture Show documentary on Arcade Fire, which includes live clips and an interview. It is a couple of years old, from the release of the Neon Bible album, but it is well made and really captures the spirit of the band. I hope you enjoy these watching this short documentary, and also hope you have the opportunity to catch their phenomenal live show!

-AZ

BBC The Culture Show Documentary: Part 1

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (Thanks @jennyhaze!)

Latest Earworm: Band of Skulls

2010-09-24T10:26:00.000-07:00

Any name recognition that the English trio Band of Skulls has in the United States likely came last year when one of their songs was selected for the most recent Twilight movie soundtrack. Since I continue to ignore all things Twilight-related, I arrived late to discover this great rock and roll band. Instead, it was a 30 second sound bite for the new Ford Mustang commercial that piqued my interest and led me to Band of Skulls. Although the band name implies dark, gothic death metal, the likes of which only 15 year old misfits would enjoy, they actually have a classic guitar sound that ranges in genre from garage to blues rock, with nice variations in tempo throughout their debut album, Baby Darling Dollface Honey.

Band of Skulls is made up of Russell Marsden (guitar and vocals), Emma Richardson (bass and vocals), and Matt Hayward (drums). Marsden and Richardson share vocal responsibilities, both convincingly delivering hard-edged vocals on the faster songs and creating lush harmonies on the more tranquil songs. From start to finish, listeners will hear a mix of classic blues rock (Led Zeppelin, Hendrix, Rolling Stones) and contemporary garage rock (White Stripes, Yeah Yeah Yeahs) influences; songs range from drum and bass-heavy guitar riff tunes to sweet acoustic ballads. The vocal blend of male and female add rich depth, and even an eerie quality, to each song. Marsden and Richardson trade verses on the stompy “I Know What I Am” and meld harmonies tightly in “Fires.” “Honest” is a beautiful song that resembles some of Led Zeppelin’s delicate tunes, like “The Battle of Evermore.”

Band of Skulls are not stylistically reinventing the wheel, nor are their songs lyrically profound. Many of the lines are catchy but repetitive, and their sound is fairly derivative of the bands I mentioned earlier. But their arrangements, though familiar, still sound fresh and interesting, and the bottom line is that they are fun to listen to. Check out their website to hear a few of their songs. They just may become your next favorite band to pop in the car stereo, roll down the windows, crank up the volume, and drive a little bit faster than you should.

-AZ

Brandon Flowers Live at The Troubadour

2010-08-19T17:11:00.000-07:00

When I didn’t get a ticket to the Brandon Flowers show at the Troubadour in Los Angeles during the regular sale, I had come to terms with the fact that I would not be attending one of the five intimate shows he was playing in the U.S. to kick off his new solo album. The regular ticket sale sold out in minutes, and strict box office regulations enforcing that the purchaser of tickets must be present for entry, put a heavy damper on resale purchase options. So, when 5 hours prior to show time, a generous offer came my way – someone I’d never met had an extra ticket and was offering it to me at face value – I jumped at the chance to take it. Even though it meant I would drive two hours to Los Angeles with hopes that the too-good-to-be-true stranger was not flaky, creepy, crazy, or dangerous.

As I stood in line at the venue, with a surprising number of people in the same boat (waiting to see if tickets promised by strangers would actually come through), I realized that my practical, sensible self was at complete odds with the personality traits needed to make this experience enjoyable. All around me, bidding wars were happening . . . a ticket sold for $160, offers for $250, online price of $400, then came word that someone was asking $600 for one ticket on Craigslist. THIS WAS CRAZY!!! Was a total stranger really going to sell me my ticket at face value when the person in line right next to me was offering hundreds of dollars? The answer is YES, he did!!! Although he had been offered ten times the amount of face value, he showed up and honored our original agreement. I only detail my experience of getting inside the venue because, while some people thrive on this kind of hassle and anxiety about whether they will get into a show, I genuinely hate it. Had it not been a Killers/Flowers gig, I would not have been motivated to go under the circumstances.

Once inside the venue, I wondered why we had all gone to the trouble of waiting in line for doors to open. There was not a bad view in the house. While a painful, but mercifully short, opening comedy act was on stage the crowd was distracted by the knowledge that Flowers and his band were hanging out in the windowed room above us. He approached the window briefly and stepped away, causing the crowd to anxiously look up for him to appear again throughout the rest of the opening act. It was only a matter of minutes after the comedy act finished that Flowers, four musicians, and two back-up vocalists hit the small stage. They launched into a 10-song set that featured eight new songs, one Killers song, and a cover of “Bette Davis Eyes.”

Many of you reading this are Brandon Flowers fans, have been following coverage of his first shows, and probably seen videos. I can’t put into words anything that you have not seen for yourself on You Tube. You know that Flowers makes nervous and jittery comments between songs, and that he often clutches his heart and closes his eyes as if pleading that you believe every word he sings. You know that, as a slow burning song reaches a climactic end, he rocks aggressively forward and back on his feet. All of the quirks and characteristics of his performing style were magnified in a venue where furthest view was no more than 50 feet away. Perhaps because of that intimacy, the show had a mellower feel than a typical Killers show. Also, the new collection of songs are introspective and contemplative in theme, and that they were unfamiliar to the audience probably also contributed to a more reserved reception.

Flowers told Spin magazine this week that embarking on this solo effort has renewed his admiration for his band mates in the Killers. While watching the show (prior to the Spin article), I actually wondered if that was the case. A longtime Killers fan will not hear live versions of these songs without questioning how much stronger they would be with the full force of the Killers rhythm section behind them. After only two shows on the road, I realize that it is unfair to compare Flowers’ touring musicians to the eight years of experience the Killers have playing with each other. During the band hiatus, Flowers wanted to keep making music, and so he is starting from scratch after having years of phenomenal chemistry and live energy with the Killers. It can’t be easy for a self-proclaimed perfectionist.

One thing I have come to look forward to in a album release involving Brandon Flowers is the “what the F*CK?” reaction that I inevitably have toward one of the new songs, when I think “this song is either very good or very bad, and I can’t tell which it is.” I never discount any of his songs outright because 9 out of 10 times, a song I disliked at first listen becomes likable, or even a favorite. This was the case for me with “Bones,” “Tidal Wave,” “Joyride,” and several other songs that I now adore. Flowers is a songwriter that experiments with the styles of his predecessors. Doing such does not always seem natural or fitting, but he nonetheless challenges fans to expand their musical palate and to expand their notion of the type of songwriter he is. So far, a song called “Swallow It” is the frontrunner for the “what the F*CK?” award this time around, and not only because of the title. It’s a bizarre Lou Reed-style song with an unusual cadence to the vocal. Perhaps 6 months from now it will be my favorite? It’s happened before.

In the meantime, there are many other songs on the upcoming album that are becoming fast favorites. “Jilted Lovers and Broken Hearts” is a classic Killers-style dance rock song with a great, catchy hook, and “Magdalena” is an upbeat tune with a hopeful and inspiring lyrical theme. “Hard Enough,” the beautiful, real-life love song, speaks to the challenges of keeping a long-term (and maybe long-distance) relationship in balance. It had stunning background vocals during the live show, and I am looking forward to the studio version of the song featuring Jenny Lewis on vocals. From Flamingo, I think we can expect a balance of both familiar and experimental styles.

Flowers remains one of my favorite live performers because he is earnest, heartfelt, and palpably vulnerable on stage. I am very grateful that I got to see him up close at the Troubadour, and want to again thank the good guy (@Jerko) who offered me his ticket. Here is video (not taken by me) of Flowers performing “Losing Touch.” It’s not one of his new songs but it is some of the best video of the night, not only because of the quality, but because Flowers is infinitely more relaxed and happy for this song in the knowledge that the crowd knows it and it is enthusiastically received.

-AZ

Nico Vega’s Live Show Still Haunts Me

2010-07-26T20:30:00.000-07:00

It has been more than a week since I paid a $10 door charge, walked into a largely empty venue, and became utterly captivated by Nico Vega’s amazing live show. The fury and intensity of the performance I witnessed that night left a lasting impression on me. The trio from LA made up of Dan Epand on drums, Rich Koehler on guitar, and Aja Volkman as lead vocalist, packs an astonishing amount of unbridled power. The on-stage chemistry between band members is a provocative mix of familial interaction and palpable sexuality. The fact that the crowd was small and subdued seemed not to matter. The band interacted with the crowd, with Aja talking, making eye contact, and grabbing hands of people in the front row. Yet it felt as if Nico Vega was performing for their own entertainment as much as for ours, and had they been in a living room alone, they would play with the same raw intensity.

As I watched Nico Vega perform, my sense of time and place dissolved. I felt transported by the occult-like nature of the stage theatrics. Aja’s eyes, wild and darting, arms flailing and pointing at the audience as she wailed in narration of their songs. She stomped and danced around stage barefoot in circles, as if participating in an ancient pagan ritual summoning the gods. The audience might feel the howling wrath of a woman possessed in one moment, and in the very next be enveloped by tender vocals and the welcoming smile of a maternal figure. All eyes transfixed on the captivating front woman to see what form she would take next. Watching the primal nature of Nico Vega’s performance left me feeling like I had fallen in a time portal and landed in an unknown past or future.

For as much intensity that was generated on the stage that night, the band looked like they were having a great time playing together. Aja would lean against Rich, dance around him, or sing to him, as he played his guitar. She also went behind the drum kit and picked up some sticks to play along with Dan. They were smiling throughout the show and visibly enjoying their time on stage.

It is pretty rare to come across a stage performance that is as compelling as what Nico Vega offers. I don’t own Nico Vega albums, and I am not greatly compelled to listen to the recorded versions of their songs. They are a band whose energy, sexuality, and guttural emotion come through in performance, with the visual aesthetics adding tremendously to their songs. I cannot understate the intensity of their live show; when they come back to perform to my town, I’ll be there.

It was difficult to find a video clip that even comes close to capturing the energy of a live show, but the one below will give you an idea. Even if their music is not what you typically enjoy, I recommend catching their show if they come through your town. They will haunt you, in a very good way.

-AZ

Catch 'Em on the Rise: TAB the Band

2010-07-15T19:33:00.000-07:00

A couple of months ago, while wading through the muck of new band mediocrity in search of some good old raucous rock and roll, I finally stumbled on a goldmine: TAB the Band. The tip came from the Twitter music community, where I become introduced to many of the young bands that fly under the radar of major music publications but have talent that far surpasses most household-name acts. The tagline of TAB’s Twitter account reads “Rock is back… in the form of us.” Yes it is.

One of my favorite things about rock and roll is that is connects fans of different ages by a common love for the music. On many occasions, my enthusiasm for older bands has served as my connection to other rock enthusiasts from generations not my own. No matter how many decades separate two rock fans, you can always find a hardy debate over the merits of one Beatles album over another. My initial thought upon first hearing TAB the Band (besides “damn, these guys rock!”) was that they have great potential for multi-generational appeal. Their music has a distinctively bluesy, classic rock sound but feels fresh in its arrangements and delivery. I was instantly hooked - and because TAB’s sound is reminiscent of 60’s and 70’s blues-rock bands like the Yardbirds and the Rolling Stones, I knew my parents would enjoy their music too. (Which they do.)

TAB the Band can probably most closely be compared to early Rolling Stones. It has the same dirty, bluesy garage sound that is pretty equally guitar and drum-driven. The vocal similarity of Adrian Perry to Mick Jagger, is also a factor in the similarity in sound. However, it is evident that their influences are broad. Songs with heavier bass and percussive tones hint at some punk influence, while other songs are a bit more folk-rooted, with a strong emphasis on vocal harmonies.

The band is made up of Adrian Perry on vocals and bass, Tony Perry and Lou Jannetty on guitars, and Ben Tileston on drums. Not only do they make great music, TAB is admirably navigating their career under “double edged sword” circumstances: brothers Adrian and Tony Perry are sons of Aerosmith guitarist Joe Perry. While having a famous rock father has undoubtedly offered guidance in pursuing a career in the music industry (and likely instructional cautionary tales), TAB seems to be diligently paying their dues and staying clear from all coattails. In addition to working day jobs (Adrian is an Intellectual Property lawyer in NYC), the band is financing their summer tour through Pledge Music, a platform for fan donations to fund the making of an album or support touring with portions of the proceeds going to a charity. Depending on the amount fans pledge, they receive audio recordings or band merchandise. I think it says a lot about a band that probably could take advantage of family fortune or personal ties but chooses instead to carve its own path toward success. But why shouldn’t they? The music speaks for itself.

I hope that TAB the Band gets the exposure needed to introduce them to new music fans, young and old, because I think their sound has universal appeal. One thing is certain; they will come into success well deserved and on their own terms.

-AZ

Here is the band's Pledge Music site and check out the video below for their latest single “She Said No (I Love You)”

Gaslight Anthem: The Everyfan's Band

2010-06-18T11:15:00.000-07:00

I have debated this philosophical question about music: does all music - and all art forms for that matter - have heart? I would like to believe that all music comes from a personal and authentic place and, whether or not emotion resonates, is in the ear of the each beholder. While this is a nice thought - and all artists may have the best intentions - not all music is equal in this department. Some songwriters write more personally and bare more soul. Some musicians play like their lives depend on winning over every last audience member. Some bands are driven to uphold a standard set by the rock heroes who inspired their path. Some music has more heart - much more heart - and that is what I think of every time I listen to the Gaslight Anthem.

This week, the Gaslight Anthem released “American Slang.” With this third album, the band retains all of the passion and heart of the previous albums but demonstrates a more mature and controlled delivery. The earlier Gaslight songs, from the “Sink or Swim” album, were firmly planted in the punk rock genre. Brian Fallon’s raw vocal on that album fit well with the aggressive drum-driven instrumentation. Since that album, they have added elements of post-punk, American folk, and classic rock, while largely retaining their punk sound. Beginning with “The ’59 Sound” album, and now with “American Slang,” the band has become much more skilled at crafting melodies that compliment the lyrical weight of the songs. On every album Brian Fallon has written thoughtful and poetic lyrics, and it now feels like the instrumentation has eased up ever so slightly, from the aggressive punk rock of the earlier days, to allow the songs the breathing room they deserve.

The new album does not disappoint. It solidifies what I have come to believe is the soul of the Gaslight Anthem and what gives their music so much heart: they, and Fallon in particular as the band lyricist, view the world through a rock and roll kaleidoscope, reflecting in each album shades of tribute and admiration for rock and roll’s intimate and powerful grip on each of us. Their love and passion as devoted music fans radiates through each song, suggesting the belief that rock and roll is our teacher, philosopher, and our constant companion through sorrowed or joyful times. The authenticity of their albums comes from the highest level of respect for the impact that rock and roll has in our lives.

You took it all gracefully on the chin, knowing that the beatings had to someday end / You found the bandages inside the band and the stitches on the radio -Boxer

“The ’59 Sound,” the Gaslight Anthem’s sophomore album, was my first exposure to the band a couple of years ago. I was hooked by the very first listen because I felt that I was hearing a musical manifestation of my own fandom. That album was a treasure trove of clues and references to Dylan, Springsteen, Petty, and many kings of Motown, some very obvious and others less so. Not only is that album musically outstanding, the lasting impression it made for me is that this is a band that understood what it is to be humbled by the emotion that a single song is capable of triggering. Like me, they seemingly found escapism in lyrics and comfort in melody.

Did you grow up lonesome and one of a kind? / Were your records all you had to pass the time? -The Queen of Lower Chelsea

With “American Slang,” the band brings all elements of instrumentation in balance with the vocal in a way that lends more emotion to the delivery of the songs. The rhythm section, made up of drummer Ben Horowitz and bassist Alex Levine, has found a much broader tempo range on this album, and comparing the tempo on songs like “The Queen of Lower Chelsea” and “Orphans” demonstrate that variation. Alex Rosamilia delivers excellent guitar lines throughout the album, but in particular on “Stay Lucky” and “Old Haunts.” In fact, “Old Haunts” is pretty close to perfection in my book with (relatively) delicate guitar work and lyrics like God help the man who says “If you’d have known me when…”/old haunts are for forgotten ghosts.

Much has been made about the similarities in sound of the Gaslight Anthem to Bruce Springsteen, with good reason. Like Springsteen, the Gaslight Anthem is a blue-collar band from New Jersey. They write poetically versed, energetic rock songs about simpler times, and the hopes and broken dreams of the everyman. I think the most important similarity is more elusive, and has to do with the silver lining the listener is able to take from a Gaslight song. More than how they sound, or where they are from, the comparison with Springsteen may have more to do with how the music makes us feel. Like Springsteen, the Gaslight Anthem reminds us that restlessness, forsaken dreams, and loneliness are all fundamental experiences of the human condition; we are not alone in feeling them, and there is something better yet off in the horizon. And in the meantime, find your escapism in music - just throw on some Miles Davis and let “The Cool” wash over you; you’ll feel better.

We were orphans before we were ever the sons of your songs. –Orphans

The new album is not homage to the Gaslight Anthem’s influences, as was “The ’59 Sound.” Really, you can only make an album so boldly in tribute once in a career. Nonetheless, the clues are there. With greater subtlety, “American Slang” still reveals the Gaslight Anthem as a band of die-hardest of music fans that will continue to churn out the heartfelt soundtrack of our own music fandom.

-AZ

Related Post: The Gaslight Anthem: Bands Paying Homage

Post-Punk Style Bassists

2010-06-04T12:05:00.000-07:00

I’ve come to accept that anytime I see a “Top Bass Players” countdown, it probably won’t have any of my favorite players listed there. I understand why, too. Many of the players that end up on countdown lists are impressively fast, often slap-style, and worthy of a 2 minute mid-song solos. Funk, progressive, and metal or hard rock genres do serve to highlight the speed and range of a talented and aggressive bass player, and that is why such greats as Flea and Les Claypool, deservedly, always make the lists.

My preferences in bass players are those who play the post-punk genre of rock and roll. I love those warm, melodic bass lines that are the backbone for songs by Joy Division, the Smiths, the Cure, similar bands that emerged in the late 70’s and early 80’s, and the revisionist bands that popped up in just the last decade. I realize why they are not included in “best” lists- they are not the fastest, or have the most range, and they certainly do not “shred.”

Still, it always surprises me a little that the bass players of the post-punk style of play never get much love; I (admittedly, a bass whore) hear the bass guitar as the primary sound within this fantastic genre of music. I have yet to find a very clear definition of what characterizes the post-punk genre of rock music; some descriptions seem to merge every genre under the sun that occurred in England within a specific period of time, which - as the name suggests - followed the punk explosion of the late 70’s. I may have a narrow view of what is the post-punk sound: heavy and prominent bass and drum, punctuated by lighter and intricate guitar work, and sometimes accompanied by synthesizer sounds. Some might say that darker lyrical themes are also a signature of the genre, but I think that both light and dark lyrical themes run through all genres, post-punk included.

What I hear more than anything, and feel is the signature style of the post-punk genre, is the bass playing. The bass guitar does not play a supporting role to the drumming; it plays a starring role in the overall sound. It independently drives the melody as a rhythm guitar would in other genres, creating the rhythmic pattern that serves as the song’s foundation. Post-punk playing rests in the middle between percussionist-supporting bass playing and lead-guitar style bass playing. The players that end up on “Greatest Player” lists tend to play in a more prominent lead-guitar style. However, one ambassador for the post-punk style should be on more “Greatest Bass Player” lists, and that ambassador is Peter Hook. As the pioneer of post-punk bass playing, he launched a unique and much imitated sound in rock and roll.

Every now and then I like to share my overall appreciation of bass players and, although they may not be considered the best, the post-punkers are my sentimental favorites. Below are a few songs with awesome bass lines from some fantastic post-punk and post-punk revisionist players.

Peter Hook (Joy Division) – “Disorder”
I could pick any song in the Joy Division catalog to highlight Hook’s playing. I love how his playing brings levity to Ian Curtis' dark lyrical and vocal style. What else can I say? He is the man.

Andy Rourke (The Smiths) - “This Charming Man”
The Smiths were a tough sell for me because of Morrissey’s voice. I listen because of the guitar work of Rourke and Johnny Marr.

Simon Gallop (The Cure) – “Just Like Heaven”
As a kid, I didn’t know who the Cure was, but I knew it was fun to dance around to this song. I now realize the bass is the reason why.

Mark Stoermer (The Killers) – “Jenny Was a Friend of Mine” Live
Stoermer is a versatile player. He, along with the rest of his band drifts in and out of genres. “Jenny” feels like a post-punk style song to me, and it is one of my favorite of his bass lines.

Carlos Dengler (Interpol) – “Evil”
This is a great, thought-provoking song that I probably would not have paid much attention to if not for that bass intro. It is speculated that the song is about serial killers Rosemary and Fred West, hence the title.

Alright, that’s enough of the post-punk genre for a while. I’m going to go listen to some Charles Mingus.

-AZ

In Defense of Stevie and Lyrical Obscurity

2010-05-26T16:48:00.000-07:00

This week Stevie Nicks turns 62 years old, and this means two things for me. First, by acknowledging her birthday, I will undoubtedly be reminded by a loved one of the South Park episode where Stevie is impersonated by a goat, kidnapped by the Taliban, and does a stage performance (in goat-form with a chiffon skirt) singing “bah, bah, bahh.” Damn you, South Park. But second, and more importantly, her birthday gives me license to unabashedly praise her in all her fairytale-telling, gossamer-wearing, la-la-land living glory.

Stevie has long been an easy target for mocking and parody by the cynics of the rock and roll world. Last night I read through every album review that Rolling Stone magazine ever gave Stevie’s solo work. I don’t recommend it for other Stevie fans. It is harsh criticism, and it is the primary reason I soured to the magazine years ago. To appreciate Stevie’s words and her image, one must be willing to suspend reality, embrace the fantasy world she lives in, and come to terms with the notion that great lyrics can sometimes be nonsensical as long as they convey a mood or a feeling. This is something that rock critics have never accepted in Stevie’s songs, and as a result, she has not been taken seriously for her fantastic songwriting.

I like lyrical obscurity in songwriting, and I don’t think a songwriter should be discounted because their lyrics lack clarity. The songs that do not reveal all of the writer’s truths are the songs that stay with you over the course of time and take on different meanings as you grow and change. Stevie writes almost entirely about relationships, but she leaves her words open to interpretation by the listener and their own relationships. “Landslide,” “Has Anyone Ever Written Anything For You,” “Silver Springs,” “Storms,” “Sara,” and the list goes on… are songs that the listener can apply to any number of relationships in their life: to a lover, a child, a parent, a friend. Landslide will comfort the teenager struggling to get over the break-up of a first love, but then take on a whole different meaning to that same person when, 20 years down the road, they look into their child’s eyes. And the song’s meaning likely had many incarnations in between.

Stevie also is a master at putting words together in a way that conveys mood through imagery:

You could be my Silver Spring / Blue-green colors flashing / I would be your only dream / Your shining autumn, ocean crashing (Silver Springs)

And a black widow spider makes more sound than she / Black moons in those eyes of hers made more sense to me (Sister of the Moon)

The ones you dream of / The ones who walk away / With their capes pulled ‘round them tight / Crying for the night / Cry for the Nightbird (Nightbird)

She out in the distance sees him against the sky / A pale and violent rider / A dream begun in wine (The Highwayman)

Track a ghost through the fog / A charmed hour and a haunted song (Angel)

What does it all mean?!?! It doesn’t matter if her words are puzzling. As fragmented and obscure as her lyrics can be, they paint a pictures in the mind. You may not know what she was writing about in some songs; nonetheless, you know what she was feeling. Not all of Stevie’s songs are crafted in the style of a medieval fairytale. She has written many straightforward country-style tunes, and is quite talented in writing for that genre. “That’s Alright,” “Rose Garden,” “Enchanted,” and “Leather and Lace” are a few examples of her country-style songs. At the request of country singer Waylon Jennings, Stevie originally wrote “Leather and Lace” for Jennings to duet with his wife Jessi Colter. Jennings also produced very convincing country versions of “Rhiannon” and “Gold Dust Woman.”

I do understand some criticism of her albums. Although I think Stevie has consistently written great lyrics throughout the years, the overall quality of her finished music has depended on who was producing her albums. She fell prey in the late 80’s to some unfortunate instrumentation, as many artists did. I also understand that her lyrical style, as well as her vocal style, is not palatable to everyone.

Despite never being the critics’ darling, Stevie is intensely beloved by her fans, respected and admired by the countless artists she has shared the stage with, and continues to reach out and mentor young songwriters. For all of the fanciful tales she has told through song, she is as authentic a writer and a performer as they come. Her songs, her audience, and performing with her peers are the great loves of her life, and we are lucky recipients of that passion and dedication.

Don't listen to her, listen through her...

-AZ

The Brandon Flowers Solo Project

2010-05-03T11:59:00.000-07:00

I have now had a few days to process the announcement last week that Brandon Flowers would be branching out from his fellow Killers bandmates to embark on his own solo project. I couldn’t believe how shocked I felt to hear news that was not in the least bit shocking. A solo album comes as no surprise; fans and journalists have been speculating this move for months. I recall a fantastic interview Flowers gave Jonathon Ross last year when the Killers performed on his show. The lone awkward moment of the interview came when Ross questioned Flowers about the Killers songwriting process. Following Flowers reply (that he writes all of the lyrics and all band members write the music), Ross said “So, you really could go it alone quite easily.” It was a fairly lighthearted moment, but an uncomfortable shrug from Flowers and a camera shot of the rest of the band sitting backstage was all the foreshadowing I needed to tell me that a solo announcement was in the near future.

What threw me for a loop was the anticipation and build up to the announcement. Following a 4-day countdown clock on the Killers’ website- during which time the fan community hoped and speculated on the possible release of Killers B-sides, rarities, live recordings, or cover songs- the news of a solo project seemed bittersweet to those who recognize a delicate balance that all four members strike together. But what fans were hoping for was another taste of what we have already had, and knew we loved – perhaps outtakes from the Day & Age album or more live recordings from that tour. For me, the shock came because my mindset was stuck in the past, but as I should well know by now, the Killers don’t do the past. They embrace change with each new project and they always move forward. The hiatus announcement that came months ago should have officially closed the most recent chapter in the Killers book, but really, it took the Flowers solo announcement to bring that reality home.

Any apprehension I have about a Flowers solo project goes back to the band member balance I mentioned. Although guitarist Dave Keuning seems (almost) on par with Flowers in terms of flamboyance and ambition, I’ve always had the feeling that Killers drummer Ronnie Vannucci and bassist Mark Stoermer are musically, and possibly also in band promotion, a grounding force for Flowers. They not only provide a masculine balance to the gold-lame-feather-wearing faction of the band, I would not be surprised if they are also the force that reins the band in when the threat of overexposure looms. Musically speaking, Vannucci and Stoermer keep Flowers firmly planted in the rock and roll genre. Without the weight of the Killers heavy rhythm section to ground him, I suspect that his solo style will float off into synth-y Pet Shop Boys land.

As much as I will miss not hearing the other band members on this project, I really am excited about any new material that Brandon Flowers gives us. The thing I find most endearing about him as an artist is his earnest, ongoing effort to be excellent at the two things that do not seem inherently easy for him: writing lyrics and stage performing. From the very first album, he has shown flashes of genius in his ability to write great lyrics, and over the years he has demonstrated increasing consistency in doing such. Flowers is a student of the game, both as a songwriter and a performer, taking cues from the greats and styling them to be uniquely his own. His continuous evolution at both tasks gets to the heart of the tremendous devotion of his fans. The conviction and vulnerability he brings to his music makes him wholly relatable. With each album we watch him become more skilled and comfortable in his songwriting and performing roles, fans feel invested in his journey, and we root for his success.

When I first heard the name of Flowers solo album - “Flamingo” – I questioned, not for the first time, his heterosexuality. It turns out that Las Vegan mythology may have lent itself to the name of the album. An insightful blog post by a Killers acquaintance and fellow Las Vegan Rodney Pardey (aka Michael Valentine), explains the significance of the Flamingo Hotel in Las Vegas mythical history and provides a theory for the album title. To summarize (really, you should check out the whole article), the Flamingo was the first Hollywood-style glitz and glam hotel in Vegas. It was a break from the modest, dusty establishments of Wild West Vegas, meant to attract glamour and money from Los Angeles visitors. If within Brandon Flowers resides dichotomous Vegas personalities, then Sam’s Town (the Killers sophomore album) and Flamingo may just be the artistic representations of those personalities. Sam’s Town is the working class, dust under the fingernails Vegas, and Flamingo is the spare-no-expense, extravagant sequined personality. Pardey’s article also points out that the Flamingo was built miles from the Downtown center on a stretch of a lonely highway- possibly significant to the album name as representing the lone break for Flowers from the rest of the band on this project.

Everything that Brandon Flowers creates is well crafted with attention to detail, hometown sentimentality, and purposeful rock and roll myth building. It is exciting that fans will soon see the next phase in a fascinating music career. Flamingo does not yet have a release date, but with any luck, we’ll have a Killer back on tour by summer!

-AZ

Childhood Nostalgia and Two Country Legends

2010-04-10T16:21:00.000-07:00

There is no voice that evokes childhood nostalgia for me more than Willie Nelson. When I play his music, I am instantly transported to the contented security of my youth. My dad played the Red Headed Stranger album frequently, and the songs from that album are the earliest recollection I have of lyrical storytelling. Willie’s rich, heartfelt vocal triggers memories of dinner parties winding down in the late night hours as a young child, falling asleep on the couch to sound of laughter from my parents and their friends from the other room. I associate his voice with the grin on my father’s face as he and Willie serenaded to me “Blue Eyes Crying In the Rain” and I associate his storytelling with the “Red Headed Stranger” lyric quoted many times to me over the years:

The Yellow-haired lady was buried at sunset
The stranger went free, of course
For you can’t hang a man for killin’ a woman
Who’s trying to steal your horse

The appreciation for Willie Nelson’s singing that I learned as a child has, indeed, grown into the great respect and admiration that I have for him as a songwriter and a storyteller now; I still listen to him frequently. I was raised on a mix of classic rock, folk rock, and old country music, but with the exception of Willie Nelson and Johnny Cash, none of the country music stuck with me into adulthood.

That said, I do have a strong affinity for Merle Haggard, and although I rarely listen to him now, his voice is also strongly evocative of childhood memories. My earliest recollection of listening to Merle Haggard was driving through the Sierra Mountains with my father and brother for an annual backpacking trip. I was probably about ten years old. I had no notion of what an Okie from Muskogee was, but I had spend enough time in San Francisco to know that Merle Haggard was insulting the Californian in me (although, he too is Californian). But, if my dad - a reformed shaggy-haired hippie like the ones Haggard was singing about - was OK with singing along, then I guess I could too. Merle has the quintessential country-singer voice, confessing tales of regret for past wrong doings.

And so thanks to my father, the two richest voices in country music are forever seared in my mind as the soundtrack to a stable and happy childhood. For years, I had heard Willie albums and I had heard Merle albums, but I don’t recall hearing them sing together until I was 23 years old, 3,000 miles from home, and homesick as hell. That’s when I heard “Pancho and Lefty” for the first time. I played it into the ground that year, drawing every ounce of comfortable familiarity from Willie’s vibrato and Merle’s deep baritone. It’s ironic that a song about betrayal and ill-fated endings can provide such consolation; perhaps it is the undertone of solitude in the song that made me feel less lonely and homesick at the time. Nah, I give all of the credit to the character and integrity of those voices and the happy memories I associate with them.

Thanks Dad.
-AZ

Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard Live “Pancho and Lefty”

Interview: The Builders and The Butchers

2010-03-23T13:06:00.000-07:00

As a tourist in New Orleans, I happened to be exploring one of the city’s famed above-ground cemeteries when I received word from The Builders and The Butchers that they would meet me for an interview before their show later that evening. Wandering between the cement and stone tombs, beneath moss covered trees, set an eerie tone that was an appropriate prequel to the unique Southern gothic style of music I would hear that evening.

The Builders and The Butchers hail from Portland, Oregon but their sound is a distinct mix of the American roots styles - including folk rock, blues, and a bit of bluegrass – that we typically associate with the American South. The banjo, mandolin, melodica, and basically any object that can serve as a percussive or vocal distortion instrument are all part of their musical arsenal. The lyrical themes of their songs are dark and conjure imagery of forsaken places, corruption and injustice, and death and haunting spirits – seemingly channeling the checkered past and tormented ghosts of the South.

Before The Builders and The Butchers took the stage at the House of Blues New Orleans, I sat down with lead vocalist and guitar player, Ryan Sollee, and bass player Alex Ellis. We chatted about the songwriting process, their upcoming album, and life on the road as touring musicians.

AZ: Hey guys! It’s a pleasure to meet you. I want to start off with asking about your story as a band. I know that you are all from Alaska. Did you grow up together?
Alex Ellis: Some of us did. I didn’t really know any of the guys. It was kind of a fluke that we all met up.
Ryan Sollee: Portland seems like a city where a lot of Alaskans migrate. Of all the people I know who have left Alaska, I would say 60-70% ended up in Portland. It’s just a place where Alaskans come because of networks of friends or family that are already there.

AZ: How does the songwriting process happen for this band?
RS: Well, I’ll bring a basic song structure to the band of a verse and chorus, but try to keep it pretty malleable. The record we just finished recording is the first time we had really long, intense practice sessions, where we buckled down and focused on perfecting a live-style recording of an album. Every album we’ve done has used a different recording process.

AZ: There is a real authenticity to your sound; there didn’t seem to be a lot of studio production magic going on. The Salvation album is polished, but it maintains a feel that you were all just in a room playing together.
AE: Well the last record [Salvation is a Deep Dark Well] did for us, I think, have some “studio magic.” Our first album [self-titled] was basically just a few mics in a room, and the album we just finished was basically recorded live.

AZ: And so you have finished recording your third album?
RS: Yeah, a couple of the songs are already mixed, most are unmixed. When we get back to Portland after this tour, we will put the finishing touches on it.
AE: It is the same basic instrumentation that we’ve used before, and the [lyrical] themes are expanded on, so it will be familiar, but not at all an attempt to recreate a previous album. I’m really proud of it.
RS: There is keyboard on this album, more organ and piano sounds, and also more intricate guitar work. We used less string and trumpet sounds than on the previous album. I think the result is less grandiose and more down-home. We didn’t have a lot of outside influence with this one.

AZ: Do you have an estimated release date for the next album?
AE: (turns to Ryan) I was just going to ask you that. Now I’m interviewing you. (laughs)
RS: Probably the fall. But I don’t know. The last time around it took a year to find a label that was interested, and the industry climate seems worse now that it was then. But we are shooting for a fall release.

AZ: Ryan, I read that Johnny Cash and Tom Waits are two of your influences. What about the rest of the band? Does everyone draw from similar musical inspiration?
RS: No, not at all.
AE: We’re all across the board.
RS: I actually am the only one that really, really likes Tom Waits. I think everyone likes Johnny Cash. But the kind of music that everyone listens to is vastly different.
AE: I’m really into Motown right now, and we’ve got a guy that likes electronic music, we’ve got a metal-head, one that likes jammy stuff. We can never agree on road music so everyone just wears earphones.

AZ: How is the current tour treating you?
RS: Well, we had a car wreck just before Austin and had to replace our van, so that of course was not fun. But now we have a better van, so that is the silver lining. And then we played Austin and the show was really great, so we are ready for the rest of the tour to go well. The group of people we are on tour with [headlining band Rx Bandits] is great.
AE: We tend to do tours where we are matched up with different sounding bands [Rx Bandits are a ska-punk band], and that’s OK because there is some crossover between audiences.
RS: Playing for different audiences help with word-of-mouth and getting your music to people who wouldn’t hear it otherwise.

AZ: And you have embraced social media outlets like Facebook and Twitter?
RS: Yeah, somewhat. I still feel a little lukewarm about it. (laughs)

AZ: When you were in Austin, was your show part of South by Southwest?
RS: We were there a few days before the music part really started so, no; we just played a single show. We played SXSW a couple of years ago. It was nice this time to come and play to Austin, and not the flood of outsiders that come for the weekend. It’s almost become like Spring Break.

AZ: I’m interested in the life of a touring musician. What is a typical day like on the road?
AE: It’s hard to set blocks of time aside for yourself. Fortunately, I was able to visit a friend for the whole day yesterday because I wasn’t needed to help out with any stuff with the band, but having that kind of time to yourself is rare. Driving takes up so much time and the club situation is like “hurry up, then wait” – get there early to set up and then wait around until the show starts. So you are a little tethered to the location. You don’t have much choice in food. The only entertainment is beer, but that makes you feel worse the next day. I don’t mean to talk down on it- because it is really fun and this is the choice that we have made, to live this life – but it is not as glamorous as people may think.
RS: I think people may assume, when they see you on stage at a nice venue, that you have hotels and that you may live a lavish lifestyle. But really, nearly every single night on tour we sleep on the floor. We can afford to get a hotel room just one night of the week. That is a luxury, and that’s like a Motel 6.

AZ: What does your summer schedule look like? More tours? Festivals?
RS: It is still up in the air. We are thinking about going to Europe. It depends on whether we can release the last record over in Europe, and if we can, we will tour over there to support it.

AZ: Well, you are set to take the stage in just a little while now. Thank you so much for sitting down and talking to me.
AE: Are you staying to catch the show?
AZ: Yes! Of course! My first Builders show, so I’m looking forward to it!
RS: Thanks, it was nice meeting you. I’m gonna go grab some jambalaya!
__________

The Builders' Live Performance

The Builders and the Butchers play with uncompromising fury and enthusiasm. Throughout the course of their set, I saw band members stomping, clapping, and all participating in back-up vocals. While you could say that the quintet includes a vocalist/guitarist, lead guitarist, bassist, and two percussionists, such categorization would be inaccurate because they all play various instruments. Individuals switched instruments for songs, from banjo to keyboard, or from percussion to mandolin, all demonstrating their versatility as musicians. Sollee has a unique vocal style that may be an acquired taste for some, but his passion and delivery is a perfect match for the lyrical themes of the songs.

I thoroughly enjoyed the set. The only negative that I walked away with was the feeling that – contrary to the enthusiasm Ryan and Alex expressed for being on tour with the Rx Bandits – it might not be a sound strategy to tour with a band that draws such a different audience. Perhaps unique to the show I attended, and the fact that it was an all-ages show, the young crowd did not demonstrate the enthusiasm and attention span that felt the performance deserved. Or perhaps it was the asshole next to me that kept shouting “bring on the metal!” (which was weird because metal was not on the menu that night) that soured my view of the crowd. Still, it was a good turnout, and I do hope that some audience crossover is happening for the Builders on this tour.

Since a video reveals more than I ever could in a few short sentences, I will leave you with this live performance of my personal favorite “Down In This Hole” (not from the New Orleans show). You can purchase their newly released live album, Where the Roots All Grow, on their website from the link below. Thanks again to Ryan and Alex for graciously answering my questions!

-AZ

Link to purchase studio or live albums by The Builders and The Butchers.

My Loathe Affair with Ambient Dream-Pop

2010-03-11T19:37:00.000-08:00

So far, I have not used this forum to talk about the music that I don’t like. The creation of Audio Zealot was inspired by my passionate enthusiasm for the music I love, and I would much rather write from a place of admiration. But frankly, it’s a rock and roll dry spell out there, and I am feeling under whelmed and uninspired by the majority of music that I have come across in recent months. As I await new album releases from trusted favorites, which may not come for a while– I have listened to countless new bands in search of music that excites me. What I have found is a musical climate that is oversaturated with spacey, ethereal dreamy pop music. While the genre is not new, it seems that the last few years have produced a steady increase in bands making music suitable for sleep-induced hypnotherapy.

It’s not that the music is bad or the bands are not talented, it’s just that it is an all-out assault on my rock and roll sensibilities. Why don’t these songs have choruses? What’s with all of the monk-style chanting? Why are the lyrics so boring and repetitive? Is this band trying to Clockwork Orange me? There has got to be subliminal brainwashing going on here!

My irrational aversion for this genre of music that is only exasperated by the fact that dream-pop is the darling of indie music right now. Dream-pop, electro-pop, shoegaze - whatever label people call it – is everywhere: in every hybrid car commercial, in hip boutique stores, at your local coffee shop. I have spent countless hours listening to highly acclaimed albums that fall under the dream-pop or electro-pop category, trying to adjust my ears to enjoy it, or at least trying to understand the hype. While advertisements and coffee shops are perfectly acceptable places for ambient music, I can’t understand why rock music publications are promoting the hell out of albums from this genre.

Remember when Brian Eno, Moby, and Bjork were quirky anomalies? It now seems like every other band out there is creating chaotic ambient sound and calling it music, and this music is wholeheartedly validated by many rock music critics. Because dream-pop has virtually no appeal to me, I want to make sense of why this trend has taken off. Why are so many bands making dream-pop, and why do people want to listen to it?

I think what bothers me most is the nagging notion that if music is an artistic reflection of social and cultural trends, what does this spacey, synthetic sound say about us right now? Generally speaking, what I hear in this musical trend is coldness, emotional detachment, and technologically produced sounds that feel wholly inorganic. Sonically, it feels dispassionate and soulless, and lyrically it reveals little insight, poeticism, or storytelling. If this genre were a map for youthful social or cultural trends, I would say that we exist in environment that puts little value on narrative means of expression, and that we are emotionally numb and disconnected.

I purposely did not single out any bands here for a couple of reasons. I don’t want to specifically direct any negativity because I do respect the vulnerability of an artist to share their creative passions with the masses. Also, it is really the genre of music that I don’t enjoy, and plenty of fans and critics indicate that any bands I would name here are, in fact, talented and worthy of accolades. Lastly, I’ve never been to a live show for my non-mentioned artists. Perhaps the cold and artificial feel may come from too much studio production, and it melts away when these bands perform live. I suspect, to some degree, that is the case.

Nonetheless, I don’t envision much staying power with artists who create the purest forms of ambient dream-pop music, lest they find a way to broaden their sound to incorporate other genres. Then again, that’s what people said 25 years ago about hip-hop and look how that turned out.

-AZ

New Artist: April Smith and The Great Picture Show

2010-02-24T17:29:00.000-08:00

The release of April Smith’s new album, “Songs For a Sinking Ship,” comes on the heels of a fantastic live performance that I was lucky enough to witness a couple of weeks ago when she and her band came through my town. You get the feeling that April Smith is on the cusp of bona-fide success; or at least, she would be, in a world where fan-funded talent, independent of a major record labels, won Grammys. But I digress. April is getting a lot of love from the music press these days and she deserves it. And to those accolades, she can now add the full endorsement of this little known Zealot.

I learned about the New Jersey-native April Smith several months ago when I stumbled upon video of one of her live performances. I was intrigued by her stage presence, the ease with which she traded banter with the band and her audience and, most importantly, THAT VOICE! I was not disappointed when I saw their performance in person. A talented and entertaining band supports April’s great songwriting and powerful voice. Watching them play together was a pleasure because they appeared to be having a fantastic time. They have a big band feel at times - using an upright bass, an accordion, and even April’s mouth-made horn sounds – but they also switch out instruments for a more guitar rock sound for some songs.

April radiates good ol’ spitfire sass, and that is one of the reasons she is so much fun to watch and to listen to. Her songs have a nostalgic feel to them, but also an acerbic edge: for example, in answering whether or not she still thinks of that past lover: “Bitch, please . . . I’ve got better things to do” (Stop Wondering), or the love song written from the point of view of being committed to an asylum (Bright White Jackets). Throughout album, the dichotomy between the sweeter love songs (Movie Loves a Screen, Colors) and the darker, defiant songs (Terrible Things, Dixie Boy) offer the listener a wide range of emotions with which to relate. Overall, nothing on the album gets either too sweet or too dark; it is all lighthearted, tongue-in-cheek, good fun.

It is also worth noting that April’s new album is entirely fan supported through Kickstarter, a website in which artists identify the amount of money needed to fund a project and fans and friends pledge money to meet that goal. The result is 100% artistic ownership of the finished product. I love this concept, for many reasons. First, I appreciate any trend toward greater populism in the music industry; it breads more creativity and greater diversity. Second, listeners can be assured that they are getting a finished product that is creatively controlled by the artist, and not the result of cutting room compromises between an artist and their management. And third, in theory at least, this method of funding and production elevates the role that music fans play - from just a consumer of music to active participant in the process - and to some degree makes the band-fan relationship more of a two-way street than it has ever been before.

“Songs For a Sinking Ship” is a great album with the heart of a community of friends, fans, and very talented musicians behind it. I wish April Smith and the Great Picture Show the best of luck as they make their way around the country touring the release of the album. Stop by her website to check out her videos and see if she and the band are playing a city near you. She’ll hook ya!

-AZ

April Smith Music Site

Performance of "Stop Wondering"

Bands Paying Homage: Eddie Vedder to Tom Petty

2010-02-05T11:42:00.000-08:00

A couple of months back, I wrote a post about how the Gaslight Anthem honored Joe Strummer with a great song about the first time Brian Fallon heard the Clash, and the profound effect that discovering their sound had on him. As I mentioned in that post, I find it so heartwarming to hear famous musicians pay homage to the artists who inspired them. They have sold records, become famous, toured the world, and perhaps become jaded in certain respects; yet, when they hear a well-loved song they are humbled by the impact that song initially had on them. It is a reminder that no matter what paths we take in this life - successes we have, failures we endure, lessons we learn – we can play an old song and become instantly transported to an innocent, more naive, place and time.

All great songwriters were once inspired by artists who came before them: Dylan had Guthrie, Van had Lead Belly, Petty has Elvis, and so on. In the Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers documentary, “Running Down a Dream,” Eddie Vedder talks about hearing “The Waiting” for the first time as an adolescent. The best part of this clip, and one of my favorite parts of the whole documentary, comes at the very end when Vedder says the following:

I don’t know if an artist completely understands, or needs to be reminded sometimes, how deeply these songs affect people . . . in such a way, that when you hear the song, you know where you were - and even the feeling in your gut - when you were 14 hearing that song. And the artist - if they can accept that, that’s a potent thing. What a gracious situation.

It doesn’t translate in text as powerfully are watching the interview, so check it out! The clip also includes a portion of the live performance of “The Waiting” where Vedder joins Petty and the Heartbreakers on stage. Vedder is a perfect vocal match for this song, and I have to say, I think I actually prefer him to Tom in this case. Below the clip, you can also find the link to the entire performance of the “The Waiting.”

-AZ

Full performance of "The Waiting"

Hiatus Aside, I Believe In The Killers

2010-01-28T13:22:00.000-08:00

The Killers’ fans are a little nervous lately. The band recently confirmed that they would be taking a well-deserved hiatus following six years of non-stop recording and touring. Naturally, the rumor mill is working overtime with unsubstantiated speculation of solo projects or band break-up. While solo projects are a plausible option for a band that may desire different things from a period of hiatus, any talk of a break-up by journalists, bloggers, fans, or otherwise cannot be supported by any messages given by individual band members or people close to them.

If you have read my essays before, you know that I am a big fan of the Killers. But not only do I enjoy their music, in observing the choices they have made in the past several years, I have a lot of respect for them as a unit. I think they make smart decisions and I have confidence in the band’s future; here are a few reasons why you should too:

THEY DON’T PUBLICALLY AIR THE DIRTY LAUNDRY.
The Killers have taken the hometown mantra to heart – “What happens between us, stays between us.” Chalk it up to loyalty, maturity, strict band policy, or just old-fashioned class – they keep it all in the family. When you fight in privacy you can say things that cannot be taken back, but when you make even the slightest disparaging comment publically, not only can you not take it back, you can also be assured that journalist after journalist will raise the issue again. A public feud will elevate band resentment and cause irreparable damage to internal relationships. Even when Flowers made the comment that Sam’s Town was one of the best albums in 20 years, causing a shit-storm of backlash against the album, none of the other members dwelled on that mistake or publically assigned blame for making the comment.

THEY HAVE A KILLER WORK ETHIC.
I get the feeling that a Killers hiatus will be measured in months, not years. This band has been extremely prolific since their debut, and they often credit their working class background with their drive to push themselves harder. Whether together in the studio or working on side projects, I believe that - creatively, at least - they won’t be on hiatus. Further, it was reported that the band members worked alone in the early stages of the Day & Age album and then electronically shared ideas for the other members to work off of. They have already developed a system to make music together while they are apart. Not to mention, they own their own recording studio in Las Vegas.

THEY CONTINUE TO EXPLORE NEW GENRES.
This is a band that seems to have a collectively open mind about sound exploration. Each album the Killers release has been uniquely different and has demonstrated a willingness to branch out in a different direction. If Dave Keuning said to the rest of the band “Hey guys, I’m trading in my Strat for a Dobro”– well, it is not hard to imagine that we would be treated to one hell of a Killers blues album. Like any relationship, the key to longevity is to grow together and to foster individual interests. If the Killers are, in fact, as open-minded in the studio as their resulting products seem to suggest, then band members have a judgment-free environment to pursue various creative outlets. Further, because their sound changes, they can’t really be pigeonholed as “electro-pop,” “Americana rock,” or any other label. I think this serves them well as they continue to evolve.

THEY HAVE A SKY’S-THE-LIMIT PHILOSOPHY.
Ask Lou Reed or Elton John to join us in the studio? Sure! See if Tim Burton wants to direct our video? Why not? The Killers make things happen because, from the very beginning, the word “can’t” is not in their vocabulary. Not only do they aim high, they are not afraid to do things that may seem uncool to the indier-than-thou crowd. But no matter how high their ambition is, the Killers are grounded by their authenticity. This is a band where everything – the music, the videos, clothing, stage design – is creatively homegrown.

THEY WALK A FINE LINE, AND HAVE EXCELLENT BALANCE.
Compared to past decades, it is so hard now for bands to retain the mystique that is critical to keep fans interested. Overexposure may get you well-known fast, but it isn’t the key to longevity. The Killers are selective about TV appearances and interviews and generally don’t seek out publicity that does not involve stage performance. They have a Twitter account and keep fans informed and interested without sharing too much. Further, the discretion and loyalty of the band’s touring musicians and crew is admirable; many also have Twitter accounts and they give fans a taste of the touring life without revealing anything about the inner-circle.

THEY SEEM TO GENUINELY APPRECIATE THAT WHAT THEY DO IS BIGGER THAN THEM.
The ability to make music that connects deeply with people is a powerful gift and the Killers have revealed a true humility and realization of this fact. I am not a member of any fan communities, yet I find myself envious of members of the Killers fan community, the Victims. Even as an outsider, I have witnessed the unbelievable bond that fans have formed with one another over their common love for the music. When you wade through the public declarations of love for Brandon Flowers, you see fans connecting over the issues we all face: career dissatisfaction, family obligations, and the day-to-day grind. I recently watched a video tribute that the Victims made in honor of the death of a fellow Victim. It’s quite remarkable.

There are probably several bands that demonstrate some of the qualities mentioned, the Killers just happen to be my favorite example. Who knows how close to the mark I am with these observations; no one knows what goes on within a band’s inner circle until someone comes out with a tell-all exclusive. I sincerely hope that never happens. What I do hope is that the Killers enjoy their time off the road with friends and family, find fresh inspiration during their hiatus, and surprise us all with a fantastic new album before too long. Hey, at the very least - come December - we can always count on a new Killers Christmas tune!

-AZ

“Insider” 1985: The Live Recording I Can’t Do Without

2010-01-20T15:44:00.000-08:00

Growing up, I think I had a negative view of duets. Not that I gave them much thought, but something about them harkened visions of Sonny and Cher, Donny and Marie, the Carpenters, or other saccharine-sweet musical duos. Duets were something that variety show acts did, maybe country singers (Kenny and Dolly), but not rock and rollers. Then I heard the live recording of “Insider” from Tom Petty’s Pack Up the Plantation album, featuring Stevie Nicks; it not only changed my view of how two voices can come together and compliment one another so perfectly, it became one of my all-time favorite live recordings.

Stevie has often said in interviews that one of her great joys in making music is singing with other people and trying to replicate Everly Brothers-type harmonies. Outside of her work with Fleetwood Mac, she has collaborated with many artists in duets or singing background harmonies. Have you ever heard John Stewart’s “Gold” or Walter Egan’s “Magnet and Steel”? Both have awesome Stevie background vocals. Tom Petty does not share the microphone as often, but he also is capable of singing a tight harmony vocal. Among the superpowers that made up the Traveling Wilburys, his voice is often most prominent in many of the choruses of Wilburys song. Of all the people Tom Petty and Stevie Nicks have sung with separately, they most frequently have collaborated with one another. It is interesting that two unusual, unconventional voices can come together so beautifully.

I have listened to this live recording of “Insider” hundreds of times over the years. The opening notes of the song evoke the same involuntary reaction in me every time – my eyes close and I inhale deeply - as if I am preparing myself for the flood of emotion the song will bring. Then come the goosebumps when, several seconds into the song, you can hear a surge of applause from the audience as Stevie joins Tom on stage.

Tom originally wrote “Insider” for Stevie to record for a solo album, but then decided he did not want to give it up to her. It is the most beautifully bitter song he’s written; it’s about heartache, about being left behind by someone because you didn’t measure up. The kind of insecurity and inadequacy one feels from being on the losing end of a breakup is so evident in Tom and Stevie’s voices here. Stevie’s vocal is especially heartbreaking. This live version reaches a level of emotion that was not captured in the studio recording of the song. What I would give to have video of this performance . . . but for now, the audio will have to do. Click the play button below.

-AZ

Classic Clips: Peter Tosh Performs "Johnny B. Goode," 1983

2010-01-08T13:01:00.000-08:00

I have mixed feelings about reggae music. It was one of the first styles of music that I fell in love with as a kid, and I associate it with sunny, carefree days. However, reggae has a fairly simplistic formula and, if not complemented with decent lyrics, great vocals, and blending with other genres, it can be extremely stale. In Southern California particularly, there is an over-proliferation of uninspired reggae acts. It has been a long time since I have heard a new act that did not sound like a carbon copy of every other reggae band. Is it possible that reggae is a genre of music that had a short-lived creative pinnacle? Will anyone ever do it as well, or better, than Bob Marley or Peter Tosh?

My appreciation of Peter Tosh had a rocky beginning. Many a night I would awake from peaceful sleep to hear his music blaring through the living room wall, to which I would curse his name. That said, the joys of cohabitation are a topic for a different essay, by a different writer. Despite the residual negativity I still feel when I hear the opening notes to his “Captured Live” DVD, I think Peter Tosh was an intriguing and dynamic performer.

Tosh, in many ways, was the anti-Marley: militant, provocative, and divisive. He did not inspire warm fuzzy feelings of “one love” and “give thanks and praise.” He had his own messages to promote, but they were not of unity. In comparing Tosh and Marley’s stage presence, it is clear that Peter Tosh had a king-sized ego. The “Captured Live” concert has him prowling the stage in his finest sultan garb and preaching Tosh-wisdom between songs. Fortunately, he can back that ego up with a rich, baritone voice that I happen to love. If any voice is going to wake me in the dead if night, I suppose his will do just fine.

Here is Tosh performing Chuck Berry’s “Johnny B. Goode” from the 1983 “Captured Live” concert.

-AZ

My Debt of Gratitude to This Decade in Music, Part II

2009-12-30T14:56:00.000-08:00

Part I of this essay declared my gratitude for music that came out of the early part of the past decade. Before I discuss some of the music that came into my world in the latter part of the decade, I think it is important to mention the change that has occurred over the past 10 years in consumer access to new and exciting music.

Around the time the new millennium rolled around, I discovered something that turned my love for the music of Stevie Nicks into a full-fledged obsession: I found her fan-generated web page. Not only did I learn then that there was a whole community of people who shared love for her music, I could go back and read every article ever published, every interview she ever gave. It was a treasure trove for the musically obsessed mind. It was around this time that Napster was gaining user momentum, and I was thrilled to discover I could obtain rare demos and live recordings from the cyber-community of music fans. In 10 short years, the online music community has exploded into an abundance of social networking sites, on-line magazines, and blogs where music lovers can sample music, watch live performances, and connect with one-another. Needless to say, I would not be the hyper-tuned-in music fan I am today without the technology of MySpace, YouTube, Twitter, Last.fm and the countless magazines and blogs I visit weekly.

And let me just say, YouTube is a beautiful thing. To listen to music is one thing, but to view live clips of the music physically coming from a band or a singer can take your appreciation of that music to a much greater level. YouTube gives us up-close views that only the optimal concert experience can yield. Let’s face it – most of us are deprived of our optimal concert experience by geography, finances, or just being born in the wrong decade. Fortunately, YouTube allows us the ability to experience music in a more intimate way. YouTube can be a band’s best friend or its worst enemy; for better or worse, it reveals the authenticity in their playing, stage presence, and charisma. I have never been to an Arcade Fire concert, but I know they are a breathtaking live show; I have seen the video. Although video can never be the same as actually being there, YouTube is free and accessible to the masses, and it conveys the emotion of a performance well.

In addition to all of the changes in how we access music and view performance, the cool thing about the past decade in music is the breakdown and meshing of genres. Bands are pulling textures from all sorts of influences to create fresh sounds. The result is hybrids of rock, electronic, classical, blues, funk, cabaret, and various other genres. This is not the time for music purists. Bands may change their sound significantly from album to album, even from song to song within the same album; the challenge they have is in maintaining cohesiveness.

The Killers have been especially meaningful to me in recent years because the diversity of genres and influences is heavily represented in their songs, and they wear their own music fandom on their (opulently decorated) sleeves. As a band that repeatedly pays homage to the bands that have inspired them, they talk openly about their influences, continuously experiment with different musical styles, embrace the recording of cover songs, and collaborate with incredible artists. Because of the Killers, I have revisited artists and bands from past decades that I had earlier dismissed, for example ELO, David Bowie, and Lou Reed. The way in which the Killers blend styles and genres, for me, acted as a “101 Guide” to older artists, and made them more palatable then they were to me previously. Discovering their music opened my mind to many new sub-genres of rock and roll, and for that, I am grateful.

Muse is another band that completely revived my interest in rock music this decade. Their blend of hard rock, classical symphony, and electronic music was so fresh and new to my ears. Muse is the mad-minded professor of the rock world right now. Every album is crafted like a magnificent opus, and the themes of their songs include conspiracy politics, metaphysics, literature, and philosophy. Each new album they release is both sonically and socially thought provoking. I have not been to a Muse live show and I will not rest until I see the mad professors in action. 2010 will be the year.

The later half of this decade has introduced me to many young bands, and I look forward to following many promising careers into the next decade. Arctic Monkeys, Gaslight Anthem, White Rabbits, and Howling Bells are just a few examples of bands that have impressed me with excellently written albums and legitimate, authentic playing. As this decade comes to a close, music lovers have a lot to be excited about for the immediate future of rock and roll. A strange mix of authenticity and fantasy permeates the musical climate, and rather than existing separate from one another, they are increasingly present within artists’ work. Music by bands like MGMT and Phoenix is genuinely artistically crafted, but there are fanciful, playful elements to their songs.

For too long, rock music has taken itself too seriously. Sub-genres were strictly classified and a divisive snobbery among music fans has divided us in the past. That is not to say that music elitism does not still exist, but it is breaking down. Social networking, and the ability to sample music from new artists, is creating a music environment that is more populist and fan-driven. Bands communicate directly with fans, inform them of live shows and offer access to free or inexpensive downloads. Fans can decide for themselves what they like and what they don’t like. Increased populism in the industry is making the roles of the record executive and the rock critic increasingly obsolete. I believe that an environment where executives and critics have less clout will ultimately foster more creativity, less fear, and greater risk taking on the part of artists.

Bye 2000’s! I will remember you fondly. Bring on the New Year, the new decade!

-AZ

Classic Clips: Fleetwood Mac, Tusk Tour 1979 “Angel”

2009-12-26T12:12:00.000-08:00

Much of what makes bands so fascinating is that they are traveling families, and no matter what dysfunction stems from weeks, months and years on the road, their love of making music together is often the only stabilizing force that keeps the unit from imploding. Further, the chaos and tension among members can often breed fantastic, creative honesty. Fleetwood Mac is my favorite example, and probably the most documented in rock music, of the unifying power of music among a group of people who can no longer stand the sight of one another.

During the time Fleetwood Mac was making the Tusk album, the band was past the initial pain of dissolved relationships, and had moved right on to fury, spite, and jealousy. Tusk is my favorite Fleetwood Mac album because it is so raw; in it, you feel Lindsay’s bitter resentment, Stevie’s misplaced martyrdom, and Christine’s optimistic will to push through to a better place and time. Although I think Tusk has some of the career-best songs by all three songwriters, I always felt Tusk, as a complete album, was disjointed and did not flow well – like each song was constructed in total isolation. To Lindsay’s credit, despite his longstanding anger toward Stevie, he has always been the best producer for her songs – taking the skeletal poems and melodies she crafted and adding rich, layered complexity. As a musical team, they are magic.

Below is the greatest live clip I have ever found of Stevie and Lindsay. It is from a documentary of recording and touring for Tusk. The Tusk tour produced one of the most dysfunctional moments in Fleetwood Mac history (that is publicly known) when, during a show in New Zealand, Lindsay began mocking Stevie on stage as she sang; the incident ended in an all-out physical backstage brawl. But sorry - this is not that clip; this clip is from the same tour, filmed around 1979-80, but shows a lighter side of the band. This is a live performance of “Angel,” and demonstrates palpable joy in making music even through the darkest hours of a band in complete turmoil. Whatever wars were fought once Stevie and Lindsay stepped offstage, the latter half of this clip has them smiling, sharing the microphone, and dancing. It’s truly a classic!

-AZ

My Debt of Gratitude to This Decade in Music, Part I

2009-12-19T12:38:00.000-08:00

I am profoundly grateful to many bands that have come out of the past decade. The 2000’s have been an exciting time of musical discovery for me personally, a period in which I embraced my own generation of musicians and, for the first time, fell in love with new music as it was released. I always felt left out of the music scene, intimidated and out of touch because all of the music I connected with was made years before I was born. Why couldn’t I get excited about the music that came out of the 90’s? After all, it was the time when I first fell in love with rock and roll.

I was in high school when Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and the rest of the grunge movement blew up. I bought that music, and liked it, but I can’t really say that it excited me or that I felt connected to it. I would much rather listen to Led Zeppelin, Van Morrison, Tom Petty, Bob Marley and Fleetwood Mac. And so it was that the classic rock staples of the 1970’s saw me through my high school years and into college. So when 2000 rolled around, I was bored and musically uninspired. I anxiously awaited new releases from my trusted favorites, but was frustrated that I was relying on my parents’ generation to provide music that I could relate to.

I can divide my music fandom into two eras: before I discovered the White Stripes and after I discovered the White Stripes. Theirs was the sound the abruptly jerked me into the new millennium and started me on a path of discovery of new and exciting rock and roll. I’ve wondered if I was first introduced to the Strokes, if their sound would have had the same impact. Though I love the Strokes, I think not. I don’t believe any other band besides the Stripes could have provided the bridge between classic and contemporary rock that I needed to open my ears and to open my mind. The White Stripes had the garage sound that new bands, like the Strokes, were producing in the early part of the decade, but their songs had the unmistakable influence of Jimmy Page-style blues-rock that was needed to draw me in.

I also owe a debt of gratitude to my brother, with whom – ironically - I share essentially no musical common ground. Despite his proclivity for hip-hop, he came to visit me one weekend in 2004, armed with what must have been every newly released rock album. I vividly remember hanging out in my living room for the better part of that weekend, playing through his music library and getting excited about music for the first time in years. In that weekend, I was introduced to The Killers, Franz Ferdinand, Modest Mouse, and many others that ultimately left a lesser impression on me.

The decade in music started bleakly, with a seemingly unending parade of pre-packaged pop tarts and boy bands, heavily focused on image and void of homegrown substance. Fortunately, rock fans didn’t have to wait long for reasons to feel excited about music again. Bands like the White Stripes and the Strokes striped rock down, essentially leveling it and rebuilding the foundation, and put the focus back on what was important: quality songwriting and authentic playing. And while those bands had an element of seriousness in their image and their playing, by mid-decade, bands like the Killers and Franz Ferdinand were following suit but filling an additional void: they were making great rock and roll colorful and fun, danceable, and thoroughly addicting.

Much has changed in music, and the delivery of music, since mid-decade. Rock music has also inspired me and brought a lot to my life in the past five years. Because the latter half of the 2000’s introduced me to more great bands than I can cover in this post (some of which, like Muse and Arcade Fire, I discovered late in the game), I am dividing this essay into two parts. Please check back in a few days to read Part II of My Debt of Gratitude to This Decade in Music!

-AZ

Fallen Down the (White) Rabbit Hole

2009-12-08T18:20:00.000-08:00

Lately, I cannot get enough of White Rabbits. I am not accustomed to falling so hard and fast for a band. I usually like to take things slow, get to know a band, and listen casually before things get so serious that I would devote a whole blog entry to them. I am beginning to fear an unhealthy attachment forming. But, as with Alice falling down the rabbit hole, I shall surrender myself to the experience (mind alteration not required).

Although they released their debut album, Fort Nightly, back in 2007, the White Rabbits are brand new to me. I bought both the Fort Nightly album, and their most recent release, It’s Frightening, a couple of months ago after hearing some sample songs on their website. I instantly loved their songs, and although I have racked my brain for comparisons to other bands, I really can’t think of any.

The White Rabbits’ sound is fresh and unique; it is drum and bass driven rock that incorporates piano, guitar and - although I cannot find it credited anywhere - I swear I can hear brass on some songs. Although they mix elements that might be compared to other bands, when it comes together, the result is a sound all their own. The strongly percussive style is very tribal, and that is the foundation of their songs. Most of the percussive sounds are deep, but there is diversity in that they also range from snare drums to shakers, giving their songs a “world beat” flavor. The piano is a prominent instrument, but unlike a band like Coldplay, where the piano drives the melody of a song, the White Rabbits use the piano as a punctuation, to highlight the other instruments. Its role is simplistic, hard-hitting, and used for emphasis.

What I really appreciate about the White Rabbits is that it doesn’t sound like a lot of studio magic went into the production of their albums. It sounds like six guys hammering out authentic jams. The lead vocal has a slightly raspy quality, and the background harmonies are strong. Lyrically, they are OK, but it is really their musicianship that makes the White Rabbits an exciting band. Check out their Letterman performance of “Percussion Gun” below. I look forward to following the path of their career to whatever Wonderland it may lead.

-AZ

Abroad and Technologically Limited

2009-12-01T03:48:00.000-08:00

Hello Fellow Music Fans! Sorry for the delay in a new post. I am traveling abroad right now, but check back next week to read the post I am currently working on! In the meantime, you can visit my Twitter page (see link on left side of this page) to read music-related observations from the journey.

-AZ

Inspiring Life-Long Fans

2009-11-20T15:12:00.000-08:00

As a music fan that has developed strong and lasting affinity for my favorite songwriters over the years, I have given a lot of thought to what qualities an artist/band has that promotes deep and meaningful fan connection. And it isn’t just the qualities that the songwriter has - a devoted fan also possesses attributes that enable them to be profoundly moved by music at an elevated level than the more casual listener. Personally speaking, I believe that my fandom is fueled by an analytic and obsessive mind that - once inspired by the music or words - must dig deeper to question the meaning behind the art by revisiting lyrics, reading interviews, and mining for clues. I dream in lyrics, and they often follow me throughout my waking hours. My music obsession is at once a great love and a debilitating foe (particularly when Beyonce released that fucking “Single Ladies” song). But I digress.

Far more interesting are the qualities that some musicians possess that set them apart from other musicians in fan admiration. Every band has fans, but what separates the bands that produce great music that is fun to listen to from the bands that produce life-changing music that has a profound and inspiring effect on their listeners? In evaluating my own fan experience - and also observing the fan culture for artists that I don’t personally connect to strongly, but that seem to evoke very strong emotion in fans - I have drawn the following conclusion. A songwriter’s willingness to reveal vulnerability - lyrically, vocally, and through performance – is a quality that cannot be faked, and I believe it is the single most important component in creating music that resonates deeply with fans.

The ability to authentically reveal vulnerability is the key to greatness for any artist, no matter what artistic form they use. For a singer-songwriter, it is an especially critical quality because, not only are they producing the material (as the writer), they are also channeling the emotion (as the performer). Whether it reveals itself in lyric, in the tremor of a vocal, or in the form of nervous ticks during performance, the ability of a songwriter to uncover his or her own vulnerability offers the audience the human element that is critical to forming a deeper connection to the music.

Whatever you may think of Morrissey (vocally, he’s not one of my favorites), he is a prime example of an artist who bares all his self-doubt, narcissism, and regret within the lines of his songs. He typically writes in the first person narrative, not passing off emotion to other characters, but instead leaving himself completely exposed. His songs are dripping with a self-absorption that I can’t really appreciate, but his fans eat it up and he has one of the most cult-like followings in rock music.

Other songwriters are subtle in their openness by using characters to channel their own personal experiences and emotions. A writer like Springsteen can be perceived as writing more with empathy than vulnerability because the joy and heartbreak of his characters may not translate as his own personal experience. However, that does not make him any less endearing to fans. People connect deeply with the characters in Springsteen’s world because they portray basic human emotions that we all know– restlessness, loneliness, yearning, desire, and disaffection. It doesn’t matter if the vulnerability belongs to Mary, Wendy, Candy, Sam, or any of the other dozens characters Springsteen has created. HE KNOWS how they feel, and he knows how you feel, too. Springsteen is unquestionably worthy of all of the accolades and adoration he has received over the years. He writes about human fragility with the same Old Soul clarity that I attributed to Van Morrison.

One of the newer bands that has developed a fiercely loyal fan base, in addition to landing themselves on most music publications’ top ten lists for the decade, is Arcade Fire. Arcade Fire produced two of the most beautiful, honest, and musically stunning albums in recent years. String instruments, heartfelt lyrics, Win Butler’s ability to vocally convey emotion, layer together to create a humility and rawness that is so attractively genuine to the listener. Arcade Fire is a relatively new band but already fans have formed a deep connection to their music that will sustain the life of their career as a band.

Lastly, I want to mention a couple of my favorite songwriters that perform with such openness and vulnerability, that I didn’t truly fall in love with their music until I saw it physically come out of them. Is it strange writing about Stevie Nicks and Brandon Flowers in the same paragraph? Probably, but they happen to be - as performers - my sentimental favorites. Seeing Stevie perform ‘Rhiannon’ with such fury, or the heartbreaking ‘Has Anyone Ever Written Anything For You,’ was pivotal for me as a fan. She has an amazing ability to connect with live audience and you feel as you are watching her that she is graciously handing over her heart for those few hours. Her fans sense her undying devotion and they are as loyal as any fan community out there.

Performing is not second nature for Brandon Flowers, and I think that he seems outwardly nervous and jittery, endears him to fans. There is a lot of realness to him. He uses bravado on stage, but equally there are moments of sincerity and vulnerability, gesturing and singing with such emotion that you feel he is begging, pleading with you to feel his words the way he feels them. I had bought and regularly listened to the Killers first two albums before I was aware of how they perform. The Killers, like Arcade Fire, are a young band with a hugely devoted fan community. And to witness them live is spectacular, just ask a Victim.

Of course, there are many qualities that attract fans to different musical artists. I like all kinds of music that I may not be sentimentally attached to, but that makes for great listening. Some of the best musicians and bands convey a detached coldness that, although is a quintessential rock and roll attitude, does not cultivate the kind of fan adoration of artists who open themselves up a little more. So many great artists that I didn’t get to! Help me write the next chapter! Who are your sentimental favorites, and why? I would love to hear from you!

-AZ

Classic Clips: Otis Redding at Monterey Pop Festival 1967

2009-11-11T18:21:00.000-08:00

Otis is at the top of my list for musical talent gone from this earth too soon. Every time I hear that voice, I wish for the 40 more years of fantastic material he would undoubtedly have produced, had his plane not crashed that December day in 1967. It is also a shame that there is not more video footage of Otis because, while just listening to him feels like every emotion is coming across in crystal clarity, to watch a performance reveals him as a truly genuine and heartfelt entertainer. This footage from the Monterey Pop Festival of him performing “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long” and “Satisfaction” was taken just 6 months before his death. His energy and excitement leap off the screen and show that, although his time was short, he is one of the soulful greats.

-AZ

Dylan's "Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts"

2009-11-05T17:45:00.000-08:00

Most Bob Dylan fans can point to a favorite Dylan lyric, song, or album, and offer their own assertion: “THIS . . . THIS is why he is THE Rock Poet, THE Master Storyteller.” And the diversity in what any group of fans will tell you is astounding because, of course, he has written many wonderfully crafted tales. My favorite Dylan story is the one he tells of Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts.

Musically, there really isn’t anything special about the song. In fact, it could probably be outright tedious for many listeners. It is an 8 and a half-minute, ragtime style song with 15 verses and no chorus. But as with most Dylan songs, it isn’t the music that makes it special, it is his calculated weaving of the tale. Calculated, because this is a song about deceit and murder in which there are few known conclusions, several perceived outcomes, and a whole world of open interpretation left for the listener. I know that I will never solve the mystery of this story, and yet I listen intently time and time again for any clues I may have missed the first one hundred times I listened.

There is too much to this story for me to detail, so if you are not familiar with the song, read the lyrics or have a listen by clicking the play button below before reading further.

So . . . Dylan’s a tease, huh? What is interesting is that much of the detail in this story is supposed, but not definitively stated, so on a superficial level the listener understands what happened. On first listen, you likely come away from the song thinking: Big Jim’s dead, Rosemary stabbed him, she got the gallows, Jack ran off with the money, and Lily is left without both of her lovers. But that is an outcome based on assumption, because only these absolutes are stated: Big Jim was stabbed, Rosemary is accused of a crime, and the Jack of Hearts is “missing.” The rest is speculative.

And, oh, how fans have speculated on this puzzle that will never be solved. Reading listener interpretations of this song reveals that no two people have the same perceived outcome of what happened, or even of who are the true villains of the story. THIS IS WHAT MAKES DYLAN A MASTER STORYTELLER – the clues he does not give the listener are equally important to building intrigue as the clues he does give! Did Big Jim shoot and kill the Jack of Hearts? Was it really Rosemary who stabbed Big Jim? Was Rosemary executed? Was Lily an outlaw who orchestrated the whole thing? Were Rosemary and Lily mother and daughter? All of these missing pieces can be resolved in our own imagination; Dylan has given us the ability to shape shift the outcome at our will.

In addition to the mysterious outcome, the weaving of Old West themes – a cabaret-style saloon, outlaw gangs, and especially poker and gambling – paint a vivid picture of the scene. Cards and gambling are referenced throughout the song; Big Jim is referred to as “the king” who owns a diamond mine, Rosemary is a “queen without a crown,” and of course, there is the Jack of Hearts. Although we will never know, I believe that Lily was the Ace of Spades – the “death card” - in this game; the character that deceived them all and came out of the story unscathed.

-AZ

I’m A Bass Whore

2009-11-01T12:54:00.000-08:00

I know - I can’t believe I went with that title, either. OK, moving on . . .

Consider me an avid devotee of bass players everywhere. Where I have discerning tastes in vocalists and lyricists, my slutty ears will open wide for just about any sound emitted by a bass guitar. Even when the playing is not great, I still like it; and when the playing IS great, it is usually the primary reason that I am listening to a band in the first place. I am a sucker for all kinds of bass sounds and playing styles: hollow and jazzy, slap percussive, distorted, deep and low, or high and melodic. I will take them all.

I love the versatility in bass sound and playing. It is typically thought of as a rhythmic support instrument that bridges percussion with the more melodic guitar and keyboard sounds. In serving this function, it really is responsible for setting the mood of the song, and often in such an understated way, that many listeners may not even realize it’s role in doing such. Conversely, the bass can have a very heavy-handed impact on the sound and is the cornerstone of genres like funk and reggae. Ron Blair from Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers is an example of understated, bare bones, rock and roll bass playing. From time to time, his playing is featured more prominently (what would “American Girl” sound like without that bass line?), but for the most part, he serves a support role in a band where guitars and keyboards are the main driver for the overall sound. On the other end of the spectrum is Flea, whose slap-bass style is the trademark of the Chili Peppers overall funk sound, and is, by no stretch of the imagination, “understated.”

My favorite bassists fall between those extremes, and though they are all unique from one another, share the quality of playing guiding roles, or at least very distinguishable roles, in songs they play. Peter Hook stands out for me because he is one rock bassist that - if he were performing solo, just him and his guitar on stage – I would buy a ticket to see him. I think Hook was most responsible for determining the mood of any given Joy Division song. Whether his playing was low and somber like in “Atmosphere” or “Twenty-Four Hours” or high and upbeat like in “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” I think he deserves a lion’s share of the credit for any versatility Joy Division had in conveying mood.

Andy Rourke, along with Hook, is a player that I can put into the “why I listen to that band” category. I did not immediately like the Smiths, mostly because Morrissey’s voice was an acquired taste that took me a while to embrace. What kept me coming back to the Smiths was the guitar work of Johnny Marr and Andy Rourke, and particularly the way they played off one another so well. I wouldn’t say that there is a great deal of versatility in Rourke’s sound, which is generally high and melodic, but it does make slight transitions that cross over into funky (“Rubber Ring”), twangy (“Panic”), and outright pop-y (“This Charming Man”) at times.

That brings me to Mark Stoermer, who is one of the more versatile bass players in rock right now. He and Ronnie Vannucci make up a chameleonic rhythm section, and they are the key to the Killers’ ability to dabble in so many rock and roll styles. Stoermer’s playing has varied from album to album, as has the Killers’ overall sound. I love the basslines that he created for “Jenny Was a Friend of Mine” and "Midnight Show,” from the Hot Fuss album. The songs are lyrically dark, and the basslines prominently stand out and accentuate that mood. For live performances of songs from Sam’s Town - an album with a lot of fast American-style rock songs - Stoermer demonstrated the skill and precision to play quick, repetitive notes that are so tight in supporting Vannucci’s drumming.

Songs from the Day & Age album show Stoermer coming into his own as a groove player; when I listen to that album, I can’t help but wonder which of those songs may have originated with his bassline. “Joyride?” “This Is Your Life?” It seems like his playing may be an increasing driver in the songwriting process for the Killers. Perhaps it always has been, but the bass “personality” is revealing itself a bit more in the Killers’ most recent work.

Lastly, I want to mention Chris Wolstenholme, of Muse. He creates sounds that are so different that I am intimidated to write about it, but I will do my best with my lack of technical vocabulary. In his playing, individual notes become almost undetectable because they blend together to create a continuous, distorted backdrop for a lot of Muse’s songs. It is Wolstenholme that gives Muse songs a digitalized, modern industrial sound and, were it not for his style and equipment, the band would lose a key factor in what distinguishes them from many of their contemporaries. Anyone ever wonder what he would do with a Hofner Beatle Bass in his hands? No? Just me, then.

Well, that was just the tip of the iceberg, a few of my favorite bassists. They never get enough glory for diverse melodic and rhythmic role they play in crafting our favorite songs. There are many bass players that I would have loved to mention, both well and lesser known, but I probably exhausted the readers’ attention span back on paragraph two. As I am continually drawn to and inspired by all types of playing, I’m sure it won’t be long before round two of the bassist love-fest begins.

-AZ

Classic Clips: U2 with Brandon Flowers

2009-10-26T19:56:00.000-07:00

This duet is from Las Vegas, 2005. Bono was suffering from vocal problems and asked Brandon Flowers, from “the swankiest rock and roll band on the planet,” to join him in singing “In A Little While.” I have never been particularly inspired by U2, but I don’t deny the power they have in creating moving, emotive music. I will confess that it is Brandon who makes this video for me. His voice is so clear, yet there is a tremor to it that I just love.

This was a big, big moment, indeed, for the still new-to-the-spotlight Flowers. Two years prior he was a bellhop at a local casino, and here he is, sharing the stage with the biggest rock band in the world. I really enjoy the way Brandon runs with this opportunity. His nervousness is palpable in the beginning of the song, but he isn’t shy with his gestures and emotion. He out-sings Bono even on his best day, and is obviously not afraid to match one of his idols in stage presence. Oh, and it is a beautiful song.

-AZ

Van.

2009-10-22T19:55:00.000-07:00

When I was 14 years old, I had a secret admirer. One day I opened my front door to find a single red rose and a Van Morrison cassette tape. It happened in the first weeks of my freshmen year, and I was attending a large school with lots of new people. My admirer, whom I had never met, somehow found out that I was a Van Morrison fan. Although I did not fully appreciate it at the time, that gesture was one of the most innocently romantic things anyone has done for me. It was old school, puppy-love-style romantic. I’m glad he didn’t know that I was also a Red Hot Chili Peppers fan, because the Blood Sugar Sex Magik tape on my front door just would not have conveyed the same sentiment.

Van became my first true musical love a few years before that that cassette found its way to my doorstep. I had heard a Van Morrison song in a movie, asked my parents who it was, and promptly raided their music library for his albums. I instantly fell in love with Van’s words. Some kids doodle through their boring classes – I scribbled his lyrics. I believe his ability to weave phrases that, not only conjure pictures in the mind’s eye, but also convey emotion through imagery, is what makes him a great songwriter. His frequent reference to nature – running water, tree-lined streets, rolling greenery, misty landscapes - give even his up-tempo songs a tranquil quality. Listening to his songs and recounting his words was my teenage escapism. And it‘s my adult escapism.

However, more impressionable to me than his words was the impact of his voice. The effect his sound initially had, and still has, on me can only be compared to a mythological siren call. When I hear that voice, it intensifies whatever emotion I may be feeling. Van has punctuated the fullest and happiest moments in my life - the moments when I am dancing, sharing wine, laughing, and making love. His voice has also carried me through my emptiest, loneliest moments – offering the cathartic release needed to push through the sadness. It amazes me how Van sounds like celebration, grief, joy, isolation, gratitude, and empathy all rolled together. In Van’s music, I don’t hear anger, bitterness, or spite. Perhaps that is why whatever the mood - elated or forlorn - he always offers comfort.

At the risk of sounding like I have any religion whatsoever, I will admit that – particularly when listening to various musical artists – I entertain the plausibility of reincarnation. Of Old Souls and Young Souls. Van feels to me like a soul who has lived many lifetimes. It is my preferred explanation for how - at 23 years old - he wrote Astral Weeks, an album with all of the heartache and pain, hope and compassion, and a depth of understanding of the human experience that 23 years of living could not possibly yield. And not just the lyrics - his delivery of the album, with its vocal ebbs and flows and bizarre repetition of words and lines, suggest an intuition for how the listener needed to experience the album. Van seemed, from very early in his career, to have a fundamental understanding of how we feel music and he crafted delivery that would have the greatest impact. The vocal, the cadence, and the lyrics marry perfectly to define the emotion of a song.

I don’t know much about Van Morrison, the man. I don’t think many people do. He is reclusive, suffers from stage fright, and has been rumored to be temperamental and hard to work with. His songs reveal a fragile soul, lonely and isolated, but they also reveal an understanding that we are all lonely and isolated at times. His songs are equally a celebration of joyous moments and the small, beautiful details that occur in daily life and must be observed and savored.

Well, there you have it. In five paragraphs I managed to cover teenage secret admiration, reincarnation of the soul, and one legendary songwriter. Proof enough that I did none of those topics the justice they deserve. That’s OK, I’ve got time in the future to elaborate - maybe even lifetimes.

-AZ

Classic Clips: The Raconteurs

2009-10-16T11:30:00.000-07:00

The Raconteurs could not be more appropriately named to convey their gift of narrative, and “Carolina Drama” must be their crowning achievement in storytelling. Jack White is not just singing a song here, he is telling a story with great craftsmanship, and we should be sitting around the campfire roasting marshmallows as we listen.

The song has no chorus, just verses that build in intensity to a final dramatic ending. Both the studio version and the various live versions give me goosebumps every time I listen; great narrative complimented perfectly by the bluesy guitar and haunting vocals. This is one of my all-time favorite story-songs.

-AZ

The Joyful Zach Gill

2009-10-13T18:12:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I attended the world premiere of the new Jack Johnson film, and the familiar face took me back to my college days. I am not referring to Jack; although I did attend UC Santa Barbara at the same time he attended, I was not aware of him at the time. No, the friendly, familiar face that took me back was Zach Gill, the multi-instrumentalist with a soulful voice, featured prominently in the film.

The first time I saw Zach play, at a house party in my college town of Isla Vista, was the first time I recall witnessing sheer joy radiating from a live music performer. To this day, I don’t think I have seen another musician project such bliss on stage. It was a small party that his band, Django, played that night - maybe 20 or 30 people - and there are not specific details that I remember, except for an outstanding jam session of “Layla.” However, I do recall the gratitude I felt in that moment for being in the presence of people, whose love and celebration of music was wonderfully infectious. Zach and the other members of Django were different from the many bands in town. These were not Business-Econ majors getting drunk and slinging around the guitar; they were budding career musicians. You could tell that, whether they “made it” or not, they would be in it for the long haul.

Not long after that night, Django became Animal Liberation Orchestra (ALO), relocated to San Francisco, and have spent the past ten+ years making music and touring. I have seen them play live a few times over the past decade, at festivals and small clubs, and each time they projected the same celebratory vibe that I first witnessed in college. Not only do they play music that makes people feel good, the music comes from a place of genuine happiness. You can see it on their grinning faces.

The new Jack Johnson film follows the songwriter through a European tour. But more importantly, the film highlights a group of friends (which includes G. Love, Ben Harper, Matt Costa, and Mason Jennings) that love playing music together. Zach’s stage presence in the film is highly entertaining – playing the piano and accordion with exaggerated movements, and performing the “old man” dance before the cheering masses. He and Jack have a great yin-yang going and Zach is, indeed, an integral part of Jack’s live show.

Since my alma mater has never been a first-class athletic powerhouse, I am filled with Gaucho pride (yes, the Gauchos) that it turned out some fantastic musicians, musicians that still find joy and inspiration in playing together. Below is a clip from the film, featuring some of Zach’s funky stage antics. I dare you not to smile while watching . . .

-AZ

Classic Clips: Arcade Fire

2009-10-10T17:46:00.000-07:00

Because we have not seen or heard much from Arcade Fire lately – and I miss them - here is the quirky and brilliant elevator performance of “Neon Bible."

-AZ

Alex Turner, the Lyricist

2009-10-09T17:30:00.000-07:00

At some point I will write about the Arctic Monkeys as a complete unit because every component of the band is outstanding. Each instrument in their playing is highlighted, yet there remains a harmony in the way it all comes together; somehow the guitars, bass, and drums are each prominently featured while retaining an overall sound that is clean, precise, and uncluttered.

I am going to focus on the word play of their songs because I believe that Alex Turner is shaping up to be the best rock lyricist in the game right now. His use of language and poetic sensibilities are not taught or acquired - this is an inherent gift. All he needs to solidify his place amongst songwriting greats are fresh experiences to inspire him, and continued desire to write about those experiences.

The Humbug album has infinitely more personal subject matter than we have seen in previous Arctic Monkey albums. The first two Arctic Monkey albums also had great use of language, but told observational stories about strangers, groups of partygoers, or people about town. Increasing intimacy in Turner’s songwriting revealed itself in the Last Shadow Puppets album and it has continued to evolve for the Humbug album. (NOTE: Miles Kane shares writing credit for the Last Shadow Puppets album. There are two distinct lyrical styles at play on that album, and I would venture to guess that Turner is responsible for the more verbose songs.) For Humbug, Turner reveals an endearingly vulnerable side – and in the process, writes an incredibly sexy album.

What makes this album sexy? It is about a guy that has freely submitted himself to a dominant lover. He willingly surrenders all control of his body and his heart, with the ominous feeling that he will get crushed. This affair will inevitably end badly for him and it seems that his fatalistic feelings about the future contribute to the excitement of the relationship. Evidence of his deferential status in the relationship is everywhere; In Crying Lightning he is “approaching your throne,” in The Jeweller’s Hands he sings, “If you've a lesson to teach me, I'm listening, ready to learn”, in Fire and the Thud he pleads “If it’s true you’re gonna run away, just tell me where, I’ll meet you there.” My favorite lyric of the album is in Dangerous Animals:

You should have racing stripes
The way you keep me in pursuit
Shopping the heal of your boot
And you press it in my chest and you make me wheeze
Then to my knees you do promote me

Turner has come a long way from the confident teenager who wrote Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not. That is not to say he lacks confidence now (you have to have confidence to perform My Propeller). But his writing reflects the humility of someone who has seen the world, gained experience, and perhaps had his heart squeezed a bit. Early on, he demonstrated tremendous maturity in his writing and it will be exciting to follow his career as he continues to hone his craft.

-AZ

Pity the Rock Critic

2009-10-05T17:21:00.000-07:00

I am going to go ahead and sabotage any future chance of being asked to guest blog for a music magazine and say what’s on my mind: I think the job of the rock critic is kind of bullshit. Let me explain.

First, I understand that music criticism once served a valuable purpose in helping the consumer decide where to spend their hard earned money. There are a lot of choices out there and guidance is good; album reviews give listeners a quick synopsis of the flavor and emotion of the sound, instruments used, and to liken it to other familiar music.

Let me also say that there are excellent music critics out there, critics who understand that their most valuable role is to articulate what a listener can expect to hear once they purchase music. The problem is that far too many critics overstep this role and feel that it is their responsibility to label an album good or bad, better or worse, a success or a failure. This is where the bullshit part comes in to play - because music, like any art, is largely subjective.

Music can be analyzed to some extent. A trained ear will hear subtleties in the melodies and complexities in arrangements that the lay listener may overlook. An experienced listener may identify whether a sound is original and unique. It is on these qualities that a critic can judge an album. A critical analysis should not be based on a reaction to the artist’s image. Nor should it be based on the perceived intent of the artist in creating the music, and whether the critic believes the artist achieved that intent. Too often, I see those factors dominate an album review.

Albums carry meaning and value to the listener, not because they are immaculately crafted, but because they evoke feeling, provoke thought, and are pleasing to the subjective ear. They are commentary - both social and personal - for a particular time and place, and that is why connection to an album is formed. To over-intellectualize music defeats its purpose and ability to speak to us on an emotional level. When I read a scathing review, I can’t help but wonder if the job of a rock critic drives away any of the original joy one once had in listening. Can you ever appreciate music the same way once you are trained to listen so critically and so cynically?

Perhaps album reviews are valuable to music industry insiders (after all, the commercial fate of an album can rest on its reviews). But reviews are nearly inconsequential to music fans. Today, there are many ways for a fan to sample music before they buy it, and individuals can now judge for themselves what music is worth the investment. It is an increasingly populist music environment – and with that, the rock critic’s opinion is becoming more obsolete. I believe that somewhere, from the great beyond, Lester Bangs is smiling.

-AZ

Stevie’s Rhiannon

2009-10-02T10:55:00.000-07:00

Stevie Nicks has written so many wonderful songs, many of which will never see past the demo stage of the songwriting process. Fortunately, for the die-hardest of fans, these songs float about cyberspace and can be easily accessed. Over the years I have collected dozens of obscure, raw piano demos that are poetically beautiful and performed in total simplicity: just an artist, her piano, and her emotive voice. Of all of Stevie’s famous and obscure songs, it is perhaps her most famous song that means the most to me.

“Rhiannon” has been the single most influential song in my life. To me, it has always represented certain ideals: freedom, strength, self-assurance, and independence, wrapped in unapologetic femininity. The song itself, through almost 35 years of live performance, is an organic, living entity. The live “Rhiannon” of the early days is raw and rebellious, performed with a furious energy that, over the years, has been replaced with a more controlled power. “Rhiannon” has always been wise, but there is now calm where there once was fury. As an adolescent, a teenager, an adult, the song continues to evolve with me and take on different meaning throughout the stages of my life.

I’ve always been captivated by Stevie and relate to the fine line she walks between strength and vulnerability. She is a powerful force, but is such without compromising one iota of femininity. She is heartbroken but defiant, lovelorn but optimistic. She is on the loosing end of a love affair gone sour, while seemingly in total control. Her voice will turn from a soft quivering plea to an angry rebellious wail. For me, there is no other woman in rock music that so perfectly embodies the female dichotomy of power and fragility.

Below is a live clip of “Rhiannon” from the Rosebud performance in 1976. Mick Fleetwood once likened Stevie’s performance of “Rhiannon” to an exorcism. The entire clip is breathtaking, but skip to 5:00 to see the transformation to a woman possessed!

Dream on, silly dreamers . . .

-AZ

Bands Paying Homage: The Gaslight Anthem to The Clash

2009-09-28T16:53:00.000-07:00

I am inspired when I hear a song or watch an interview in which an artist pays homage to bands and songwriters that have influenced their life and career. It is a reminder that, no matter what success and fame comes a band’s way, they are still able to hear a favorite old song and be humbled by the power that song first had over them.

How many of us recall introduction to a sound that rocked our world unlike anything we had ever heard before? For me, it was Led Zeppelin, and I was 14 years old. For many of my peers at the time, that sound was Nirvana. It’s heartening to know that even Jimmy Page and Kurt Cobain experienced the same rush of falling in love with music. Page was inspired at an early age by the blues music of the American South, and Cobain famously made lists of the music that inspired him, ranging from The Stooges to Leadbelly. Although as individuals we are emotionally affected by different sounds and genres, the power of that emotion is a common ground that connects us; we are all fans.

One of the least veiled tributes is the song “I’da Called You Woody, Joe” by the Gaslight Anthem. It is a punk song that, surprisingly, tugs the heartstrings because it is such a sincere tribute Joe Strummer of the Clash. It also describes a feeling I personally recall so vividly – the complete and utter awe of hearing something profound for the first time. This is Brian Fallon singing about the Clash's influence on his virgin ears:

And then I heard it like a shot through my skull to my brain,
I felt my fingertips tingle, and it started to rain,
When the walls of my bedroom were tremblin' around me,
This ramshackle voice over attack of a bluesbeat,
Tellin' me, he's only looking for fun.
And this was the sound, of the very last gang in town.

As heard by my wild young heart,
Like directions on a cold, dark night,
Sayin', "Let it out, let it out, let it out, you're doing all right."
And I heard it in his chain gang soul.
It wasn't just the same sad song.
Sayin', "Let it out, let it out, let it out, you're doing all right."

Fallon goes on to sing about the comfort the songs bring him as a constant in life through good times and bad. You wouldn’t typically associate the Clash with “comfort” and that’s what’s cool - one man’s chaos can be another man’s comfort! That is what makes the listener experience so personal; songs evoke different feelings in all of us, and that is the reason fans forge deep connections with songwriters. In naming the song “I’da Called You Woody, Joe,” I believe Fallon is expressing the kinship he felt with Joe Strummer, even if he had never met him. If he had met Joe, he would refer to him as a friend would - by his nickname, “Woody.”

Below is the music video for “I’da Called You Woody, Joe,” where you can hear the song in its entirety. I will explore the topic of “Bands Paying Homage” on future posts. There are several examples of songs that reveal band fandom, so feel free to comment or email me your favorites!

-AZ

The (Joy) Division Between Dark and Light

2009-09-25T17:21:00.000-07:00

Writing about Joy Division is tricky because they are the most analyzed and revered band of the post-punk movement. However, most articles you read about Joy Division lead the unfamiliar listener to believe that their music is too depressing for an emotionally well-adjusted person to enjoy. Yes, if you focus only on Ian Curtis’ lyrics and vocal, there is quite a bit of weight there (obviously). The brilliance of Joy Division though, is that the weight of the lyrics and vocal are often juxtaposed with upbeat rhythm and melodies.

The Ian Curtis and Jim Morrison comparison is an easy one because of their similar baritone voices and stripped-down lyrical style. But Joy Division certainly shares other similarities with the Doors. The trademark high bass lines of Peter Hook serve to uplift Joy Division songs and shine light on them in the same way Ray Manczarek’s keyboard playing does for the Doors. Hook and Sumner’s playing add levity to the moodiness of Curtis’ singing. Despite their very different sounds, both Joy Division and the Doors have a rare hypnotic quality and frequently cross over from dark to light, or project both simultaneously.

I recently read a quote by Editors frontman, Tom Smith, expressing his frustration for how his band is constantly characterized as “dark.” What he said resonated with me:

“...dark is interesting, dark is exciting, dark can be funny, there’s real life in the dark, real life IS dark. When an album feels like this, the fragments of hope and love that do occasionally shine through shine through ten times brighter than they would normally do so."

YES!!! So true.

It’s hard to come by a clear definition of what “post-punk” and “post-punk revival” mean exactly, but I believe the answer lies somewhere in the interaction between light and dark, joy and pain, and the existence of both within the same song. When I listen to Joy Division, I hear all of the complexity and emotion that is part of the basic human experience. I believe that emotional complexity is a key component to what has made them such a sustainable, meaningful influence on musicians and fans over the past three decades.

-AZ

Bring Back Midnight Show!

2009-09-23T16:18:00.000-07:00

It is impossible to single out a favorite concert clip of the Killers (but I’m going to try to anyway). They are so phenomenal live and they don’t take their audience for granted. They play like they are giving it their all every time they go on stage, and you can’t say that for all bands. I have only seen them in smaller venues but it seems that they shine the brightest on the big festival stages.

Lately, the band is dusting off some old favorites from Hot Fuss – Believe Me Natalie and Change Your Mind. Although I won’t be attending another show on this current tour, I am still lobbying for the return of MIDNIGHT SHOW!!! This is one of my all-time favorite Killers songs and it gets no love! It is fast, dark, and you are hard pressed to find a more poetic description of death by strangulation than in the lines of that song. Lyrically, it’s just brilliant.

I am posting this clip of the Killers playing Midnight Show at Glastonbury 2005. It is faster than the studio version and it highlights how energetic and polished their playing was, even before they had a few years of touring under their belt. Mark and Ronnie are especially blowing my mind here. If you have not seen it in a while, it is worth another watch, and if you’ve NEVER seen it . . . Enjoy!

-AZ

The West Beach Music Festival

2009-09-21T19:23:00.000-07:00

As a huge fan of the rock music embraced by UK music fans, it’s fair to say that I am green with envy as I witness, via the internet, the coming and going of the festival season on the other side of the Atlantic. I live vicariously through the numerous UK fans that are lucky enough to have the summer season chalked full of massive festivals that take place within reasonable pilgrimage distance. That’s not to say that we don’t have great of music festivals in the States, it’s just that unless you make it to Coachella or Lollapalooza, you aren’t going to see big international acts play the same stage.

Yesterday, however, I got over my UK-envy and reconnected with my California roots at the West Beach Music Festival in Santa Barbara. California music festivals have a sound and a culture all their own: a sun-soaked mix of cultural diversity, wafting smells from taco stands mixed with burning weed, chicks in bikinis, and the blend of surf-rock, skater-rock, reggae, punk, ska, hip-hop, dance and Latin sounds. West Beach, in its third year and 14,000 fans strong, takes place on the strip of sandy beach between the wharf and the harbor.

This is not a concert review. I did not see the headlining acts, including Ben Harper and G-Love, who I have seen play live before. But thanks to a well-connected friend, I was able to attend the sold out Sunday show featuring Santa Barbara’s own Rebelution, and SoCal favorite, Pepper. I enjoyed Rebelution, think they have a good reggae-rock sound and are very listenable. My attention span faded a bit during Pepper’s set; they sounded like Sublime to me, down to the vocal styling, but with less provocative lyrics. But hey, Brad Nowell died 13 years ago and every new decade of California college students needs their own Sublime-like sound. It’s the perfect backdrop to that beachside kegger.

As California reggae-rock grooved on in the background, I walked around, ate some food, drank some beer, looked at the art, and soaked up some sun. It wasn’t Glasto, but it felt good to embrace my own Left Coast festival culture. It was a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon - the festival-goers were happy, mellow, and everyone seemed to be feelin’ irie.

-AZ

P.S. Chatting up a Spicoli look-alike is pretty much as one-sided a conversation as you might imagine.

The Mad Minds of Muse

2009-09-18T15:23:00.000-07:00

Ahhh, it is good to be a Muse fan. Every few years we are treated to a jaw-dropping display of ear candy that rushes the bloodstream like a double shot of Jack. As a bonus, we also are reintroduced to that familiar brand of vocabulary that inevitably follows every Muse release – “bombastic,” “epic,” “shamelessly ambitious,” “conspiratorial,” and the new one now popping up, “laughable.” And so with this week’s release of The Resistance, we have another round of critical analysis.

Muse has always proven to be an easy target for criticism because of the grand scale of their sound. The reviews have overall, been pretty positive. Strangely, I think the fans have reason to be proud of the negative reviews; the silver lining - in even the most critical reviews - reveals that, whatever critics think of the new album, they generally feel that:

Muse’s talent is indisputable, and there are few bands in the world that can match their skill and creativity;
The band pushes boundaries and they continue to evolve with each new album;
Their use of genre overlap challenges conventional notions of modern rock and roll;
Muse is a one-of-a-kind original in a time where homegrown originality is hard to come by.

I adore Muse, but their albums are not ones I typically love cover to cover, and this one is no exception. If Muse has multiple personalities, I personally prefer the up-tempo, bass-heavy (Uprising) and the spacious, more breathable (Undisclosed Desires) personalities to the operatic personality (EURASIA! – SIA! –SIA! –SIA!). I have a bit of an aversion to Queen, but I have to respect that Muse totally out-Queens Queen on this album. The magnitude of the sound that these three guys produce is phenomenal. I think NME had the best quote about The Resistance when they wrote “when they go unapologetically batshit insane they’re untouchable.” I couldn’t agree more.

Without a doubt, Muse is one of the most compelling bands of our time.

-AZ

The AZ Axioms

2009-09-17T17:01:00.000-07:00

As my first post, I thought I would take the opportunity to reveal some AZ philosophy, just to give you an idea of who I am as a listener, a writer, and a fan. So here goes . . .

If singers don’t write and perform their own songs, I’m just not interested. I can’t get behind American Idol. If that makes me a music snob, so be it.
I love language. Lyricists are my poets and I am old school when it comes to writing. You’ll find slang and swearing here - but sorry, no text language. NO JGMNT 2 TXTERS ;-)
I refer to my favorites by first name. Van (Morrison), Stevie (Nicks), Tom (Petty), and the Bobs (Dylan and Marley) have inspired and comforted me since I was very young and I guess I feel a kinship toward them.
When I really connect with the work of a songwriter or band, there are never “good” albums or “bad” albums, only ones for different moods. Naturally, I still do have favorites.
I believe in lyrical obscurity. I don’t know what Stevie meant when she sang about “a charmed hour and a haunted song” and I don’t care. It conveys an image, a mood . . . and it just sounds cool.
I am a sucker for a kick-ass bass line and I believe that bass players as a group, excluding Paul McCartney, are criminally underrated.
I believe the songs that completely turn you off upon first listen, serve the function of stretching your brain and expanding your musical palette. We often don’t like what is new and unfamiliar; a second listen is usually required.
I believe there is too much negativity surrounding music forums. People don’t seem to realize that year after year - album after album - artists have the courage to bare their soul to the listening masses. If you don’t like something, move along. No need for the vitriolic rant about how “the new album is shit” and “they haven’t been good since 2004. ”

I write about the music I like and don’t waste time on the music I don’t . . . And with that, Audio Zealot is born. I hope you read my posts and email me your thoughts and new music suggestions.

Be well and listen with an open heart. -AZ