video review: 'a.m.' by arctic monkeys

So the second wave of album releases has begun, starting off with an album from a band that I never really liked. So with that in mind, does this mean I can overcome my issues and talk about what will likely be a divisive album? Let's find out!

album review: 'a.m.' by the arctic monkeys

Everybody has specific 'sounds' that they don't like. Nails on a chalkboard, the rasp of metal against rocks, the chipmunk voice effect, basically some sound that just sets your teeth on edge and just leaves you with a sour taste in your mouth. It's not often something you can help either, it's a gut instinct, it's a subconscious emotional reaction to something in the sound that just makes you feel queasy or just triggers that element of dispassionate loathing. And as a music critic, this impulse is absolutely infuriating, because it often prevents me from being as objective as I'd like when evaluating the material. It basically prevents me from doing my job effectively, and given how hard I've strove to be professional, it really bothers me.

And if we're going to talk about a band that leaps to the top of that list in my mind, the Arctic Monkeys would be that band. 

I know it's crazy. I can't explain it, no matter how hard I've tried. Something about this band, whether it's lead singer Alex Turner's vocals or songwriting, just gets on my nerves in ways I really can't comprehend. I'm going to try and intellectualize this instinctive reaction in some way, see if I can parse some of it out, because the more calculating and rational parts of my mind are telling me that I should like the Arctic Monkeys. The guitar work is catchy and interesting (for the most part), they're good songwriters, and hell, Alex Turner isn't that far from Billy Joe Armstrong in his vocal delivery, so where's this antipathy coming from? What is it about this band that alienates me so much?

Well, if I were to hazard a guess, I'm thinking some of it comes from two factors, neither of which are all that fair to the Arctic Monkeys, at least in terms of judging their execution. The first is in the subject matter and the delivery - Alex Turner comes across as acerbic and bitter and sour in both the songwriting and the delivery right out of the gate, starting on that first album Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not. And what strikes me as out-of-place is that the target of said anger seems to be the activity of going out and partying and having a good time. And sure, I get where said subject matter could easily be reinterpreted with a dark or sarcastic twist, but Alex Turner seems like the douchebag who stands morosely at the bar after you drag him out and then spends the rest of the night complaining, arguing with the bouncer, being a creep with girls, and blaming it all on you at the end of the night. It'd be like dragging Morissey and Severus Snape to a nightclub. And sure, I'll give props to the Arctic Monkeys for executing that sort of song so well, but that sure as hell doesn't make it remotely pleasant.

And here's the other unfortunate and probably unfair thing: it's really, really hard for me not to compare the Arctic Monkeys with Franz Ferdinand. Maybe it's the similar guitar work and strong technical songwriting that the two acts share, but every time I listen to the Arctic Monkeys and their acrid brand of unpleasantness, I can't help but think that those dudes over in Franz Ferdinand just sound like they bring a much better party. I get that there's a place for bitterness in music and arguably the Arctic Monkeys execute their morose emotions better than most, but it sure as hell isn't an enjoyable or moving experience in the slightest.

One of the other interesting factors with the Arctic Monkeys is that the band has followed something of a similar career trajectory to Franz Ferdinand, starting with two strong, critically-acclaimed albums right out of the gate (the second being strongest in my opinion), before attempting to switch things up a bit for their third album. For the Arctic Monkeys on Humbug, they slowed things down and attempted to make their instrumentation sound a bit more grandiose - but at the same time, many of the lyrics that went by too quickly to fully sink in on previous albums now had plenty of room to breathe and reveal the unpleasant truth: the narrator Alex Turner writes is an asshole. Maybe it has something to do with the pseudo-not-trying delivery or the fact that every single one of the songs are full of needling little insults, but it really reveals a whole new layer of ugly unpleasantness reminiscent of Ethan Hawke's character in Reality Bites: the snide jackass who is so smart he has chosen to only interact with the world via smug observations. And what's really grating is that more often than not, we're supposed to sympathize or at least identify with the narrator because a lot of his observations - crass as they might be - are at least intelligent, and we're supposed to shove to the back of our mind the fact that he's really quite the asshole, which is framing I find hard to accept. 

Now all of that being said, I do think the lyrics improved a bit on the next album, Suck It And See, mostly because the poetry got a little more benign and, dare I say it, mature. Some of the snide petulance had faded from Alex Turner's delivery (not all of it, mind you), and with the songwriting as sharp as ever, he grew marginally more tolerable and the album was significantly less unpleasant for me to listen through. But at the same time, I kind of missed the high-energy instrumentation from those first two albums, and while I still think the Arctic Monkeys wouldn't quite be my thing if they had returned to that instrumentation (while keeping the better tone and lyrics), I do think it would have incorporated the best of both worlds. As I said, I can recognize talent and solid work when I see it, and while there are issues with the Arctic Monkeys that still get on my nerves and prevent me from liking them, I know that some of these issues are my issues, and what is key is separating my issues with legitimate grievances.

So with that hefty challenge in mind, what do I think of the newest Arctic Monkeys album, A.M.?

video review: 'trouble will find me' by the national

So, I normally post these as an edit to my typical review posts, but I want to try something new by having the videos on the main page. If you have any comments regarding the reviews, make sure to let me know whether or not you prefer the old format.

So, in case you didn't take a look at the written album review, this is my retrospective review of The National's album 'Trouble Will Find Me', and where I finally deliver the smackdown on Mumford & Sons. Fun stuff!

album review: 'trouble will find me' by the national (RETRO REVIEW)

So here's the rant you've all been waiting for, the topic of which I'm sure has been seared into your mind since the very beginning: why I, like apparently every other music critic, thoroughly hates Mumford & Sons with the hatred of a thousand suns. The faux-folk rock band that deserves to be consigned into the flaming abyss, the band that co-opted the image and earnestness of folk rock and turned it into shameless commercialism, clearly one of the worst acts to have every blighted this world today. And I, as a critic with reputably harsh standards, clearly must hate them with extreme force, right?

Well... no, not really. Make no mistake, Mumford & Sons aren't a good band, but they sure as hell aren't the scourge of all music as a slew of would-be hipsters have branded them. They have some natural talent for catchy-as-all-hell melody lines and memorable harmonies, they have a mostly distinctive sound, and they sell all of their material with gutwrenching sincerity (which, believe it or not, goes a long way with me). To me, I've consigned to the rung of 'painfully mediocre', right next to Nickelback (don't even start).

Hmm, come to think of it, Mumford & Sons does seem to strike me as rather similar to the post-grunge act that ruled the rock airwaves throughout the early 2000s. Both bands have a lead singer that sounds like he's delivering his lines directly from his colon, both were accused of selling out to the tasteless masses (believe it or not, this was actually true for very early Nickelback), and both made music that somehow lodged itself in our brains like tapeworms. 

But what I think is most indicative of the similarities between these two bands is a very important concept that I've been skirting about for a while, but haven't found the right time to talk about until now: artistic framing. This is most often conceived as a device for literature and film, where the context can be adjusted depending on how the scene is written or shot, and which can be used to powerful effect by talented directors and great writers. One of the reasons, for example, while many people despise Twilight isn't for the misogyny or the stalking or the Mormon undercurrents, but because said elements are framed in such a romantic light. In the hands of any sane writer, Bella's story could have easily been written as that of a thriller or a melodrama between a very stupid girl and her vampiric stalker, but Stephanie Meyer sets up these events to feel romantic and attractive to Bella, and thus the reader - you know, abandoning appropriate context in favour of the author's wish-fulfillment fantasy.

And believe it or not, this becomes a big issue in music as well. A lot of alarmists tend to look at acts like Eminem and Kanye West and see terrible, reprehensible human beings promoting messages of misogyny, homophobia, and violence - and yet both artists have made it clear from the very beginning that they aren't role models and that nobody should aspire to be like them (hell, Eminem wrote several songs about it). They (or at least their artistic personas) are assholes, and we shouldn't so much glorify them as recoil from or pity them (that's the one big reason that I give a pass to Relapse, an album that seems designed to make Slim Shady look as pathetic and wretched as possible). Of course, the question then becomes that some people will interpret the surface themes of the album anyways and follow their manifests of hatred anyways, but that's a trickier topic for another day.

So coming back to Mumford & Sons and Nickelback, the same problems with framing crop up here too (albeit significantly more with Mumford & Sons). We're expected to buy into these acts as having sensitivity and/or more heartfelt emotions, and it feels completely disingenuous with Nickelback's humourless and sour delivery and Mumford & Sons' consistently terrible lyrics. You don't buy into the emotions they're trying to convey because some element of their framing completely shatters that immersion. It's why I'd argue Nickelback has actually slowly been getting a bit better over the years: they've actually embraced the fact that they're douchebags, and are just rolling with it to create douche-bro party anthems that at least feel authentic (if a little gross).

Mumford & Sons, unfortunately, haven't quite reached that point of self-awareness, which I think is one of the big sticking points for me with the band. They deliver all of their material with the heartfelt earnestness of a man proposing marriage in the mid-1800s, but their lyrics are rife with lines that undermine this earnestness at every turn, which makes it look all the more like a pose (also, their music has little-to-no instrumental texture and the production is pop as all hell, but that's another issue). And more than once, I've wished that we could find that band that had all of the earnest sincerity of Mumford & Sons, but had the lyrical context and texture and was framed in a way that made sense or added additional depth.

Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to The National, the indie post-punk act for which I was waiting. Now I suspect that many of you actually already know this band (particularly if you watch Game of Thrones), but I just discovered this band and considering they're easily one of the best acts I've discovered in a long time, I want to talk about them at length. Make no mistake, considering my luck approaching indie acts this year, I was more than a little surprised by how incredibly solid The National was, particularly when placed in competition with their lesser contemporaries, and they pushed a lot of important buttons for me.

For starters, the lyrics were audible and high enough in the mix to make out, and occasionally there was some real emotive poetry hidden behind the clever turns of phrase. I wouldn't quite say it's as descriptive or lurid as that of Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, but it's not trying to be either. The National is very much a 'mature' act, and like Deep Purple from earlier this year, they transform that maturity into a real strength that adds poignance to their lyrics. You can tell through the placement of the vocals that The National began as an alternative country act, and the importance placed on lyrics and the 'older' subject matter comes through here as well. More importantly, The National are smart enough to frame their songs intelligently, making sure that if their song's narrator could be interpreted as an asshole or a prick or a loser, he's appropriately positioned in that regard, supported by both lyrics and instrumentation. And considering how many songs The National writes about sad-sack losers who have screwed up their lives, they've nailed the formula down to a tee.

But what I find significantly more interesting with The National comes through on the other underlying theme of the majority of their work: upper class Americana, and the existential ennui that comes with it. Admittedly, The National do a very solid job speaking to all demographics, but with the highly literate songwriting and richer instrumentation, it's very clear they're targeting a certain college-aged yuppie hipster group within popular culture. And as with before, it comes back to the framing for why this works, both skewering the nastier elements of these subcultures (racism, classism, misogyny, antiquated value systems, etc.) and still writing music for the more perceptive of the audience to find the distinct sadness in said characters. In comparison to Vampire Weekend (who treat their privilege like a family heirloom only they are allowed to play with), The National are more blunt and don't hesitate to cast their narrators as just as sad, pathetic, desperate, and lonely as anyone else, and it's a testament to their excellent instrumentation that you're actually able to sympathize instead of scoff with derision at 'white people problems'.

All of that being said, I do have a few issues with The National. The band has occasionally recycled instrumental themes (which can get exasperating) and musical dynamics, which can lead to some songs running together. And as often as Matt Berninger has been compared to Nick Cave for his delivery and uncompromising framing, I'd argue he doesn't quite have the same emotional range in his voice that Cave does. Granted, he pulls off depressed and morose very well, but anger still occasionally seems like a foreign emotion to Berninger and that can get frustrating. On top of all of that, with similar thematic elements running through their previous five albums, it would be nice to see them switch up the formula, go for something darker or in a different vein entirely. Otherwise, it just feels like they lack imagination.

So, what do I think of their newest album, Trouble Will Find Me?

album review: 'silence yourself' by savages (RETRO REVIEW)

I didn't get into punk music the 'typical' way. I wasn't given an old punk record by a family member or dropped into that particular music scene by a group of friends or attended a party or concert where said music was being played. No, pretty much any exploration of punk music - and indeed of underground culture from the mid-70s to, well, now was entirely a self-driven endeavour.

Funnily enough, I started looking into punk from one of the harder-edged scenes on the fringes of the genre: anarcho-punk. Coming out of an anarchistic high school phase, I was actively listening to Chumbawamba and started to get intrigued about their contemporaries. So one day, I picked up two four-disc collections that I highly recommend to this day as a great sampler of music of the time: No Thanks! The 70s Punk Revolution and Left Of The Dial: Dispatches From The 80s Underground. And I honestly can't count the number of bands I got into thanks to these two multi-disc sets, exposing me to several entire genres of music that I had never heard on mainstream radio or any of the clubs I frequented.

Interestingly, there was only genre that seemed to span both disc collections - and it wasn't punk music. No, it was the dark, brooding, complex, oft-inaccessible genre of post-punk, composed of the leftovers of the punk revolution and a gateway to all manner of weird, twisted music that I fell in love with instantaneously. These were acts like Wire, Bauhaus, Sonic Youth, The Sisters Of Mercy, Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds, Television, Joy Division, The Cure, Siouxsie & The Banshees, The Chameleons, and more. These are among some of the most critically acclaimed acts of the 70s and 80s, and they pushed the envelope of music further than ever before.

It's not entirely surprising, then, that as 70s nostalgia returned through this year (to say nothing of the rise of darker, industrial-flavoured music across the charts), post-punk would make a return appearance. But while Nick Cave did release a mind-blowing album this year with Push The Sky Away, it wasn't so much a post-punk revival album as a moody piece of atmosphere alternative rock from an elder statesman of the movement. 

Instead, we got a debut album from a new act that had been swelling in the underground since 2011, just waiting to explode with a mission statement scrawled in block capitals.

The band was simply called Savages, the debut album was titled Silence Yourself, and it is goddamn awesome.

Youtube review after the jump

30 years of anarchy: a chumbawamba retrospective - 1982 - beginnings

Some one-hit wonders are just that - they release a single song off a single album, and then disappear into the ether, never to be heard of again. But most aren't - in fact, VH1 has made many a show investigating the one-hit wonders since the beginning of recording, digging into their history and the people who created the music, often times ignoring the music that band made before and after the one-hit, and almost certainly ignoring the politics and views that shaped the music as a whole.

This isn't going to be like that. Not just because this band had a thirty-year run spanning multiple genres and labels, but because Chumbawamba epitomized the best of their genre: good punk musicians and artists that actually had something to say, and were clever enough to say it well. You'd be surprised how truly rare that is.

But even great things must come to an end. On July 9, 2012, the band Chumbawamba announced they were splitting up after a thirty year run. It wasn't with a bang, or a whimper - it simply was. The group had reached a parting of the ways, the best possible way for a group to split. 

But then a thought struck me and gave me pause - did anyone care? Who remembered this band? Who cared now? Sure, the band has a Wikipedia page, but who would bother to maintain it, to chronicle and analyze the strident political message of a band of anarchists? They represented a piece of ephemeral punk culture - would it be like so many other punk acts, lost to anonymity and irrelevance?

Well, it won't happen on my watch. I still don't know who reads this blog, but on every Saturday, this will be my project: a chronicle of the music of Chumbawamba, and an analysis of the political messages behind them. I can't promise that it'll be complete, mostly because some of the music is already lost, but I will try. 

Why am I doing this? Well, Chumbawamba is one of the great forgotten bands - and if it's up to me to be the lone chronicler, I'll do it. Pop culture - particularly punk pop culture - is ephemeral in the best of times, and if I can capture a snapshot of one of the most successful anarchist acts of all time, someone might remember, and maybe the dying embers of punk will be stoked again.

So let's travel back to 1982 - the beginning.