album review: 'yours truly' by ariana grande

Believe it or not, I am not a teenage girl.

I know, right? It's so hard to tell, particularly given my music tastes! I mean, I like  Ke$ha and Avril Lavigne (well, most of the time) and Colette Carr and Natalia Kills and I used to watch Glee and I'm one of the three internet critics who gave Demi Lovato and Selena Gomez a fair shot and probably the only one who'll provide that same courtesy for Miley Cyrus! I guarantee you that a whole swathe of the reviews of Miley's material will focus on her oh-so-controversial VMA performance instead of her actual music, or will completely ignore the fact that she was tied to one of the best songs of the year ('Ashtrays and Heartbreaks' by Snoop Lion - not kidding).

But that got me thinking again - why do I like this music in comparison with my general distaste for the typical material teenage boys usually like (all the hard rock and associated genres of metalcore and electrocore)? But really, the answer was pretty simple: outside of hip-hop and rap (and even occasionally within that genre), I have a seriously hard time suspending my disbelief and buying into the ridiculous facades of masculinity that these bands like to promote. Even back in 2007 when I was a teenager, I was listening to Nightwish and Blind Guardian and I was much more impressed by their force of personality and subject matter than the whinging and swaggering self-aggrandizement of the metalcore, hard rock, and screamo scenes. Yes, I'm not going to deny that there occasionally was scraps of talent in those scenes, but I never found it remotely compelling.

So why do I, unlike some critics, tend to give the artists aimed at the opposite gender more of a pass? Well, if I look a bit closer, I can say that most of the acts that I like as a part of that group tend to be gunning for the same 'toughness' appeal, going for confrontational, but the ones I like also add flavours of nuance to that confrontation besides plain anger (which is probably the reason I'm no big fan of Beyonce or Carrie Underwood). And you know, maybe it's just me, but it sounds a lot more real and emotionally complex coming from Ke$ha or Pink or Avril Lavigne (well, most of the time), and part of it is because I think they're genuinely trying harder. Let's be honest, most guys don't have to try all that hard to sound intimidating or angry or to impose their presence, and with rare exception, the record industry tends to respond with some skepticism whenever women attempt to match their male counterparts. Yes, it's aggravating and unbelievably sexist (don't even try denying this, guys, the shit women go through in the record industry is miles worse than anything most guys go through, particularly if they're working in a male-dominated genre like rock, rap, or metal), but that means the ones that succeed work all the harder (or they sell out). And I like seeing effort in music, and I respond well to it.

Ariana Grande, on the other hand, doesn't appear to fit the mold of a female pop singer I would normally like. Leaping straight from the teenage sitcom Victorious and styling herself as a pop/R&B act most closely imitating Mariah Carey (I'll come back to this), Ariana Grande notched her first big hit this year with 'The Way', which only seemed to play up the fact that she was a young, girly teenager (even though she's 20), all bubbly and excitable and very, very innocent. In other words, she seemed to be taking the polar opposite route of her contemporaries in Selena Gomez and Miley Cyrus and was downplaying her sexuality in order to preserve her fanbase following her over from her shows. Okay, not a bad plan, considering how brutally Miley's fanbase revolted when she made her transition from Hannah Montana. But at the same time, I didn't really have high hopes for her debut album, Yours Truly, expecting it to be the sort of cheaply-produced, High School Musical-esque dreck that catered to the lowest common denominator of her fans. Did I get what I expected?

video review: 'trouble' by natalia kills

Jesus, I'm exhausted - lot of reviews in a short time, and I'm not even done yet. Ariana Grande still waits in the wings, and I'm more than aware that this is only the first wave in September. 

Either way, here's the review of the new album from Natalia Kills, complete with a bit of a rant on trends within record labels and an examination of how this album compares with one of my favourite albums from last year (and long time readers of this blog should know exactly which one that is). 

In any case, I need food and sleep. Next review comes tomorrow.

album review: 'trouble' by natalia kills

If I were able to disregard certain artists just by looking at their record label, it would save me a lot of time.

I should explain. While you typically have your huge record labels - Universal, Warner, and Sony - you also have your smaller labels that are dedicated to putting out a specific style and format of music, and can sometimes even be headed up by the lead artist on the label, or were even founded by said artist (Dr. Dre in the case of Aftermath, for example). And with this rough categorization and the knowledge that certain producers work across multiple artists on the same label, you can detect trends that crop up in the music of artists signed to these labels, and if you dislike those trends, you have an easy target to blame.

And recently, the label Cherrytree Records has come up in my line of fire more than once. This is the record label who put out LMFAO and the Far East Movement, and they handle the distribution of La Roux, Robyn, Ellie Goulding, and bizarrely Marianas Trench in the United States (Marianas Trench should really be on Fuelled By Ramen by now). They also gathered considerable fame for putting out Lady Gaga's first two albums, The Fame and The Fame Monster.  They pride themselves as being a label for up-and-coming artists and for promoting what they call 'alternative pop'. Okay, noble goals to be sure, and I can get behind that, particularly if they're promoting a more baroque or riskier style in their pop music.

The problem with Cherrytree Records is that their producers are seldom ever up to the task of matching their artists' creative ambitions, which can lead to glossy instrumentation that approaches interesting material, but lacks the skills behind the production board to truly elevate it beyond shallow, occasionally disposable pop music (obviously there are exceptions to every rule). And when your artists have no desire but to make the shallowest and most vacant of material, or they lack the talent to make anything greater (looking at you, LMFAO and Far East Movement), you end up with a label with a reputation for superficial flash but little underneath.

But let me be fair here. There's nothing wrong with shallow party music if it's executed well, and so far this year, Cherrytree did deliver with Colette Carr's Skitszo (an album that, much to my surprise, has remained pretty solid for me throughout the year), and thus, I was at least a little interested when I heard about the sophomore album from Natalia Kills. So, out of curiosity, I checked out her first album Perfectionist, to see what she was like, and...

Well, she's pretty good but if I'm looking for the classic example of an artist who is handicapped by the production weaknesses of her label, Natalia Kills would be a prime example. She has a pretty good voice and some interesting lyrics that actually put a bit of meat in her claims to be inspired by Kate Bush, but her attempts at a gothic darkwave sound on that album fall flat no matter how hard she tries, mostly because the sound feels distinctly derivative of and/or sampled from older darkwave and industrial acts like Sisters of Mercy, Depeche Mode, and especially Nine Inch Nails with a hint of the same gloss Lady Gaga's material was splashed with on The Fame Monster. I have the feeling that if Natalia Kills were given the producers behind Charli XCX's True Romance, she might have a better chance of realizing her vision - but at the same time, the other unfortunate thing she shares in common with Charli XCX is self-obsession. Natalia Kills has said she's a perfectionist and the album revolves around said desires, but at the end of the day, most of those desires appear to be for wealth and fame (with love discarded by the wayside), and none of it is made to sound all that exciting or attractive or all that interesting.  Yeah, she's a good lyricist and she's got some interesting ideas where to take said lyrics (some which raised serious questions, 'Acid Annie' in particular), but she hasn't quite sold me on why I should really care one way or the other. Now all of that being said, she's a much better lyricist that I expected and occasionally had a few songs ('Not In Love' and especially 'Broke' stood out for me on Perfectionist) that I found genuinely engaging, so there's definitely potential here if pointed in the right direction.

So, on that note, does Natalia Kills manage to make me care on her reportedly darker follow-up, Trouble? Normally, darker sophomore albums are the death knell of young artists' careers, but given that Natalia Kills was already heading in a darker direction, will she break the cycle?

video review: 'hesitation marks' by nine inch nails

Yeah, two album reviews in one day. This one's been in the works for a while, and I'm fairly happy with how it came out. I'm fairly certain I'm going to get ripped apart, though, mostly because I'm part of the apparent minority who thought The Fragile was absolute shit. 

Ah well. The trials of being a critic.

album review: 'hesitation marks' by nine inch nails

I'm going to say something that's borderline anathema to everything I stand for as a reviewer, something I never expected I would say and something I sincerely hope won't kill my credibility forever: sometimes, pure sincerity just doesn't work. Sometimes, it might be actually be the crippling blow that ends up throwing the entire album out of whack. And for somebody who has always prized sincere delivery in performance above most, this sort of conclusion is both enlightening and infuriating.

And for this unexpected revelation, I blame Nine Inch Nails.

Now let me make this clear, I don't think Trent Reznor's project is entirely without merit or is a 'bad' band, to say nothing of any of the slew of moral outrage that has been directed at the act over the past several years. My issues with Nine Inch Nails aren't linked to any aversion to their shock factor or their abrasive sound or the nihilistic subject matter (well, at least not entirely). As someone who listens to industrial metal acts like Ministry or Pain, I'm well-aware of Nine Inch Nails' impact on the industry as one of the pioneers of their genre.

And for the most part, Nine Inch Nails have earned that reputation, particularly in their instrumentation off of their first two LPs, Pretty Hate Machine and The Downward Spiral, the two albums that cemented Trent Reznor and his band in pop culture and in the eyes of the controversy circuit. The themes, particularly those on The Downward Spiral, were steeped in an examination of depression and self-loathing, and it's not hard to buy the underlying very real emotions that inspired songs like 'Closer' or 'March Of The Pigs' or 'Hurt'. And coupled with Reznor's uncanny knack for fusing industrial sounds with surprisingly catchy melodies, it's no surprise that Nine Inch Nails built their cult of personality that would permeate goth and alternative clubs all over the world.

But here's the problem: it's clear from every album Reznor has released since that he is haunted by the success of The Downward Spiral, and his attempts to replicate its success in differing forms have never managed to work, partially because Reznor can never properly detach from his material to provide that additional context and weight that made The Downward Spiral such a deeply affecting, influential, and critically acclaimed work. 

Of course, that doesn't touch the other big problem with Trent Reznor: he has never been a great songwriter. I'm not saying he's terrible or not talented - far from it, he has a gift for crafting memorable hooks that most industrial acts wish they could have - but to say that his nihilism has long ago stopped being compelling is probably underselling it. Now that's not saying that he hasn't tried to inject it with some degree of variety, but Reznor has a bad habit of returning to the same themes and cliches over and over again, and it very rapidly commits the cardinal sin of any nihilistic artwork: getting really boring and repetitive really fast. Forget buying into the 'HALOs' or Trent Reznor's cult of personality (which I'd argue he hasn't really earned), I had a hard enough time getting through the Nine Inch Nails discography over my vacation as a refresher because Reznor's songwriting regularly found ways to get on my nerves in a serious way. And most of the problem comes from the fact that Reznor is selling every single line with complete honesty and sincerity, which makes some of the more cringe-inducing lyrics even worse. If they were delivered with the slightest bit of additional nuance or a hint of irony, they might be more excusable, but too often they vary between being infuriating and just embarrassing.

Now granted, it wasn't as if Reznor didn't try to replicate his success with The Downward Spiral, which led to seriously mixed results. The first attempt was The Fragile and Things Falling Apart, two atrocious albums where any of the limited subtlety that Reznor had in his lyrics was pitched out the window in favour of swaggering, self-serving bravado and terribly out-of-place acoustic instrumentation in favour of catering to the late-90s obnoxious brats that bought into Reznor's cult without thinking. Forget the deeper context that informed The Downward Spiral or the motifs and symbolism - no, let's go for greater aggression and shock with a quarter of the subtlety. Things did improve in With Teeth, which held a tighter balance between inward and outward aggression, but the lyrics didn't really impress and the instrumentation seemed even less controlled. It was also on With Teeth that we got the first hint of Reznor's political edge, which fully manifested itself on Year Zero, an album that would honestly require a full-length review on its own to fully unpack. For now, I'll say that there was a lot of interesting ideas toyed with on Year Zero, but the execution was muddled and ultimately I was left distinctly confused and unsatisfied with the whole endeavour (although the Green Day fan in me loves 'Capital G' for its sheer blunt Bush hatred).

And really, I can directly trace the lack of satisfaction with later Nine Inch Nails less to the lyrics (which for the most part I tend to give up on) to the instrumentation. Instead of using electronica to create the distortion and more jagged segments of his music, he's chosen to rely on these heavy, feedback-swollen guitars that might create an impressive wall of sound, but lack the control that made his songs really gripping to me. I've gotten to the point as someone who listens to harsh, abrasive music that raw walls of distortion just doesn't impress me the same way if the tune is seriously lacking (and more often than not on later Nine Inch Nails albums, it definitely is). That's also where I tend to come down on his 2008 album The Slip, which once again failed to recapture that tightness that made Pretty Hate Machine and The Downward Spiral so effective (to say nothing of the lyrics, which might be the most minimalist and slapdash work I've ever seen Reznor put on record). At this point, I'd have a hard time pointing to any of Reznor's work besides his moody, ambient pieces (Ghosts in particular, which is unfocused but does capture the appropriate atmospherics quite well) as anything I can recommend. 

But this is 2013, and Trent Reznor is 48 - surely his songwriting has evolved into something new, particularly after a five year hiatus from Nine Inch Nails, right? Surely there's something worth liking here on Nine Inch Nails' new album Hesitation Marks, right?

video review: 'the 1975' by the 1975

So here's the video review. Pretty standard, but the one thing I did change was a slight increase to the size of the album image. I think for the most part it works, if only to add a bit more variety to the frame.

Now on to finally getting that Nine Inch Nails video done (also, why wasn't I informed that Janelle Monae was dropping a new album on September 10? September, why are you trying to kill me?)...

album review: 'the 1975' by the 1975

Let me quickly clarify something that's been annoying me back from the review of Deerhunter's Monomania, specifically in reference to vocals. For those of you who haven't taken a look at that review, I mentioned that one of my big pet peeves is that I tend to find it seriously annoying when artists bury the vocals behind production or vocal effects. To me, unless it is specifically done in order to enhance elements of the song, it comes across as a way to hide the lyrics from deeper examination and get on my nerves.

But what happens when you get a lead singer whose vocals aren't buried, but just hard to figure out because of his delivery? Well, as I mentioned in that review, I tend to be significantly more forgiving towards them. Now, of course I have my limits, but in terms of, say, growling or screamed vocals that you typically find in metal, I tend to be accommodating, both due to the fact that said delivery is typical of the genre and it can be reasonably easy to parse out once you're familiar with it. Or for another example, take Dexy's Midnight Runners, well-known for the quintessential 80s classic 'Come On Eileen' - lead singer Kevin Rowland's voice might come across as unintelligible barbaric yelps on first listen, but once you've grown accustomed to his delivery, his lyrics are actually fairly easy to parse out (and good thing too, because Dexy's is one of those bands that had a lot of interesting lyrics, to say nothing of just being awesome).

And it was of Dexy's Midnight Runners that I first thought about when I heard the opening single from new Manchester-based indie rock act The 1975, 'Chocolate'. Not only was it catchy as hell, but the vocals clearly sounded like they'd require some additional listens to fully parse out. And while I tend to go a little easy on debut albums, particularly when they're from indie bands that might not get another chance if they don't open well, I immediately thought the sound of 'Chocolate' was good enough that they might be able to impress without the benefit of lower standards.

So with that in mind, what do I think of The 1975's debut, self-titled album?

video review: 'colours in the dark' by tarja turunen

Whoops, missed putting this up last night. Anyway, here's my newest video review of Tarja Turunen's album 'Colours in The Dark'. I'm kind of flabbergasted that I spent the entire damn review pronouncing Tarja's name wrong, but to be honest, that's always the way I heard in pronounced, and I never even expected I was wrong. But then again, the translation of a 'j' to a 'y' is really common over there, and frankly, I should have known better. God, that's embarrassing.

Also, the fact I have a tan is really not showing up on screen. That's deeply annoying to me. Eh, you can't win them all.

album review: 'colours in the dark' by tarja turunen

It's really hard to talk about Tarja Turunen without talking about Nightwish. Yes, even her solo career.

I should explain for those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, and it's going to require a bit of a history lesson. Back in 1996, there was a keyboardist and insanely talented songwriter in Finland named Tuomas Holopainen, and he recruited guitarist Emppu Vuorinen and classical singer Tarja Turunen to form a band that would fuse classical symphonic music with heavy metal. In 1997, they (along with future symphonic metal titan Within Temptation) released their first albums, birthing a whole new genre of metal that would take them to fame and fortune. 

It was also one of the first genres of metal I ever explored, and Nightwish was one of the first bands I discovered that I really liked, which was in large part thanks to Tarja Turunen's soaring, powerful, operatic vocals. To put it another way, Nightwish is one of the few bands to cover 'Phantom of the Opera' and actually manage to match Sarah Brightman's incredible delivery. Throughout the late 90s and early 2000s, Nightwish made a ton of fantastic music that I still love to this day...

And then in 2005, Tarja Turunen was fired from the band through an open letter by Tuomas, and the fanbase split violently in two. Now as somebody with the benefit of context and hindsight, I can say that there was no party involved in this split that is completely innocent or deserves all of the blame. Tuomas was always a brilliant, introverted control freak who couldn't stand not getting his own way, and Tarja got used to being the face of the band and thus became a bit of a diva (whether or not it was encouraged by her husband, who has nothing but contempt for Tuomas, is an entirely different can of worms I don't want to touch).

But Tarja swore she was going to keep making music on her own, so the same year Nightwish released their comeback album Dark Passion Play with new vocalist Anette Olzon (which also happened to be one of the best albums of their career), Tarja also released her solo album My Winter Storm. One thing was for sure on both of those albums: neither Tarja or Tuomas were over the whole breakup thing, and were taking more than their fair share of complicated emotions regarding the whole affair. 

However, the important questions regarding that album from Tarja tend to get overlooked amid the hysterics, and I'm here to provide an answer to it: is Tarja's solo material any good? Well, to be blunt, it's better than I expected. Considering it was Tarja's first attempt to write songs on her own (with an arsenal of professionals behind her, of course), I was surprised how well many of the songs came together. And Tarja's voice is as strong and gorgeous as ever, and she has always had a lot of personality and energy in her delivery. The problem becomes that this album is automatically compared with Dark Passion Play, one of the best albums Nightwish ever made that still holds up today. Nightwish made a classic album of the symphonic metal genre, and My Winter Storm just can't compete with that, on songwriting or instrumentation (I'm not jumping into the pit of comparing the vocals of Tarja and Anette, and you can't make me).

Fortunately, her follow-up What Lies Beneath was actually a fair bit better, actually showing that Tarja's (and her collaborators') songwriting was only getting better, and Tarja was experimenting with differing symphonic metal sounds and styles, proving that she could indeed be a pretty potent solo act. Yeah, not all of the experimentation worked - the hints of more industrial sounds were especially hit-and-miss, and some of the tempo changes mid-song brought mixed results, but it was enough to give me a bit of hope that her newest album this year (released while Nightwish is in a bit of a complicated state as a band, having replaced Anette Olzon with Floor Jansen) could actually be something special.

So what do I think of Tarja Turunen's newest album Colours In The Dark?

video review: 'right thoughts, right words, right action' by franz ferdinand

So, here's the video review to accompany the text. Quite happy with this one, all things considered, especially considering I'm posting it from vacation and didn't precisely have much time to put things together.

Oh, and the album's terrific, get it if you get the chance.

album review: 'right thoughts, right words, right action' by franz ferdinand

Now here’s something about the music industry that really gets on my nerves: when pop acts don't like to be called pop acts.

Oh sure, you get the acts that don’t care one way or another, but there are a number of acts – particularly in rock and R&B – who will always attempt to qualify their genre as anything besides pop music. And really, it’s not surprising why – many people tend to denigrate pop music simply because of their preconceptions regarding its genre, believing that it’s ephemeral, inconsequential, and stupid. Worse still, being branded a pop act is still used by some critics as a verbal shorthand to dismiss some acts out of hand without bothering to delve deeper into their ambitions or context.

And to me, this just seems goddamn wrong. Pop is a genre, not a qualifier, and it shouldn’t be used to denigrate an act one way or another, mostly because some of the best and most celebrated acts of all time have spent portions of their lifespans in the ‘pop’ consciousness. Just because said music might have a conventional structure or an accessible sound does not mean it can or should be castigated by critics who are constantly hunting for the newest eccentricity in the indie scene. In fact, I’d make the argument (again) that writing good pop music, the material that’s actually well-written and catchy and has staying power while remaining mainstream-accessible, is actually much more difficult than random independent experimentation, because you’re working within a framework that actively resists attempts to change or push boundaries. It’s also one reason I tend to like Lady Gaga’s writing methodology even if I don’t always like her music: she’s trying to make things weirder and more baroque, but she has the streak of populism to stay within the current pop consciousness.

So when I make the statement that Franz Ferdinand is an indie pop rock act, I don’t say it in order to blast the band. In fact, I’d make the argument that their pop-centric songwriting is one of the best features of their music and one of the factors that makes them the critically-acclaimed indie acts of the past decade, not to mention one of my favourites. This is a band that has a strong pop sensibility, particularly in the construction of their hooks, and they have the impeccable songwriting and energetic delivery that gives them a real presence in the pop landscape. Or, to put it as acclaimed critic Nathan Rabin described them:

Listeners might get older, but pop music always stays the same age. It’s never quite old enough to drink, legally that is. (But it still knows how to party!) The inclusion of Franz Ferdinand’s “Take Me Out”... consequently feels like the birthday girl’s super-cool brother, who wears skinny jeans, does lot of coke, and spends several hours each morning trying to make his hairstyle look casual, crashing the party along with a smattering of his equally hip friends. It’s a terrific slice of 1979 New York (by way of Scotland)...

Pretty much, and indeed, if I was looking for an attitude to best describe Franz Ferdinand – that of a pop band with decidedly mature sensibilities and smarter songwriting – it would be that. So when the band exploded in 2004 (otherwise known as the first attempt for indie rock to break into the mainstream), it wasn’t really surprising that they were lumped with The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, the Killers, Modest Mouse, Arcade Fire, and others. Unlike most of the rest of these bands, Franz Ferdinand had a follow-up album waiting, and the second punch in 2005 with You Could Have It So Much Better was rougher, faster, and arguably even better. Like The Strokes on their first two albums, Franz Ferdinand had a unique sound (indie rock fused with a retro funk/disco blend that did ‘dance music with guitars’ far better than E.M.F. could have ever hoped for), hooks that were catchy as hell, and a lead vocalist with a lot of personality.

Unlike The Strokes, however, Franz Ferdinand were decent lyricists, and that led to their longevity persisting onto their third album Tonight: Franz Ferdinand in 2009, which many have deemed their weakest, yet still very strong in its own right. The songwriting was as strong as always, but to me the weaknesses were in the fact that the great hooks just weren’t there in the same way like they were back in 2004 or 2005. Sure, there was ‘Ulysses’ and ‘No You Girls’, but it started to feel like some of that spark was starting to fizzle. Worse still was the fact I got the feeling the band knew that spark was fading too, which led to their experimentation with electronic elements with mixed results.

So with all of that in mind, the band took another four years off and finally have come back with a new album this year. Has the time off been enough for the band to reclaim their spark?

video review: 'doris' by earl sweatshirt

I can't honestly say this is one of my best reviews, but that's mostly because I still don't quite know how to feel with Earl Sweatshirt. Still, I tried to review the album and I think it turned out okay.

The album is pretty damn good too.

album review: 'doris' by earl sweatshirt

I have an odd relationship with Odd Future.

Keep in mind it's not like I dislike any of the associated acts, because for the most part, from what I've seen of Tyler The Creator and Frank Ocean, I've liked what I've seen. Hell, I was almost on the cusp of reviewing channel ORANGE last year, arguably one of the best albums to come out in 2012. But I didn't review channel ORANGE and I probably never will, mostly because it represents a bit of a strange problem I have when approaching Odd Future-associated acts: I have no idea how on earth I'm supposed to feel about them. 

Let me try to explain this. For starters, as good as Tyler The Creator can be, I'm not quite sure whether I should buy into the exaggerated elements of his persona or treat them almost as a parody. There's something strange about the way he delivers his lines that's very much unlike Hopsin or Eminem, who are straightforward and direct in their assaults - Tyler The Creator just seems oddly comfortable in the way he goes to shock, and once you get your brain on the same wavelength, he lacks the same ability to surprise. It's even not that I don't doubt that said things he's saying are true, either, but I'm not sure how I'm supposed to react to them, which adds that extra second where I pause to think about that, which kind of stifles my enjoyment of his material. I definitely appreciate the rawer, rougher production on his beats, but too often his flow does nothing to engage me and his content tends to feel strangely distant. 

Frank Ocean also tends to feel distant and isolated (except on heart-wrenching songs like 'Bad Religion'), but that was half of the point with channel ORANGE, most of which I remember listening to in a spaced-out haze of heat exhaustion wandering through the woods outside my house. I'd argue that on the sensory overload alone, channel ORANGE is an incredible success - which really does a disservice to the lyrics, which contain some of the most incredibly descriptive, cripplingly honest poetry put on record in a long time. Combined with the fact that channel ORANGE had plenty to say about the state of modern youth, sexuality, faith, and love, and I'm not surprised at all that people fell in love with the album.

And yet... for some reason, it never truly landed with me beyond a few songs. It's not an album I return to again and again, and for the life of me, I don't really understand why. I want to love it, but yet I feel distant from it, unable to truly connect. Part of it might be that so much of channel ORANGE feels alternatively very personal and then very disconnected from everyone, a bit of a passive observer in his own life. And strangely, I feel the same thing with Tyler The Creator as well, even despite he and Frank Ocean's wildly different deliveries and choices of subject matter. And while it might make for impeccable and effective artistic framing, it also can make for a bit of an odd listening experience that might have kept me away for this past year. 

So will the same be true of Earl Sweatshirt, the oft-absent member of Odd Future who has finally released his debut studio album Doris? Will this be the Odd Future member I finally connect with, or the first I must unfortunately consign to the trash?

video review: 'paradise valley' by john mayer

Got to be honest, I'm pretty proud of this review, I think it came together well. In this review, I finally get my chance to take direct aim at John Mayer with his new album, and it's worth it. 

The album is pretty much crap, though.

album review: 'paradise valley' by john mayer

I don't like John Mayer.

I never really have, to be honest. Even since the beginning with a succession of critically acclaimed albums, I've never been a fan of the guy in any way, shape, or form. If I was being generous, I'd argue he's written maybe two songs that I like - three if I was pushing it. 

Now before the majority of you jump down my throat and call me just a troll who doesn't know what I'm talking about, let me explain this because, believe it or not, I do have a rationale for my dislike. For starters, John Mayer never really impressed me as a vocalist, particularly his range. He sounds very much like he's trying to imitate a softer post-grunge vocal technique, but the problem with singing in a hoarse, borderline rasp is that you do real damage to your vocal chords over time. And in comparison with most artists, he actually sounds better in his louder, higher range, when he's able to bring some energy to the table.

Unfortunately, this rarely happens, which leads to my second big problem with the guy: most of his music is mind-blowingly tedious. I've admitted a number of times that white guys with acoustic guitars aren't my thing, and John Mayer is one of the reasons why. While he's not a terrible guitarist, he's not exactly a virtuoso either and thus too often the melody lines of his songs sound very formulaic and similar to each other, which can make his albums get really boring really fast. This isn't helped by the fact that since he's limited his range thanks to his vocal delivery, his songs don't tend to modulate or grow or reach any sort of climax outside of a certain range of quiet reserve.

But on top of that, Mayer's hoarse delivery doesn't seem to lend itself well to truly emotional songs. Now I admit this might be a personal pet peeve (after all, I was informed that some people actually considered the emotions Luke Bryan conveyed were authentic), but to me there's a certain lack of 'closeness'. There always seems to be a certain guarded nature around Mayer's songs, that never really expose vulnerability, which immediately throws me off because it doesn't feel real. Place this in comparison with that sappy song from 2008 'Hey There Delilah' by The Plain White Ts. Now, I'll admit that song is clumsy, poorly written, and amateurishly performed, but it still manages to work for me better than the majority of John Mayer's discography because it feels genuine and sincere, emotions I have a hard time finding in Mayer's work.

Eventually, though, it all comes back to the songwriting, and I'll admit without shame that John Mayer is a much better songwriter than Jack Johnson or Jason Mraz. As I said, John Mayer has at least written songs I like ('Waiting On The World To Change' and 'Say'), but he's also written a whole ton of crap that doesn't hold up nearly as well. Part of the problem seems to be a serious lack of humour, as John Mayer delivers all of his songs with as much somber earnestness as his voice can allow. And I'll admit, at points it kind of works and I completely understand why so many people have fallen for this guy over the past decade - people respond well to that sort of thing.

But here's my sticking point: I don't buy John Mayer's sincerity in the slightest. Too often in his songs he paints himself as the sadsack loner who's just looking to serenade a girl with his guitar and oh-so-clever songwriting (most of which isn't nearly as clever as it likes to think it is). And really, that starts to come across as more than a little disingenuous when you discover that he's dated Jennifer Love Hewitt, Jessica Simpson, Minka Kelly, Jennifer Aniston, Taylor Swift, and now Katy Perry. And then coupled with that infamous Playboy interview in 2010 (which he attempted to brush off by saying he was just trying to be 'funny' before apologizing) and the scathing direct assault Taylor Swift launched with 'Dear John', it's hard to believe Mayer's attempts to sound romantic anymore. And yes, I will agree that Mayer is a better technical songwriter than Taylor Swift, but 'Dear John' at least sounds emotionally authentic and does a fairly apt job and describing who John Mayer really is behind the artifice. 

All of this comes together to paint an interesting, if unappealing, picture of John Mayer, reminiscent of that douchebag you meet in college who woos girls by strumming on his acoustic guitar (and is basically asking for a recreation of Animal House). And sure, I understand that's not the image he's trying to put forward of himself when he presents his material, but it's the same problem I have with Chris Brown: I can no longer separate the artist persona from the public persona in my mind, mostly because elements of said art only seem to reinforce that image!

But all of that being said, I do appreciate that John Mayer is at least trying to repair his image. I'll admit that his previous album Born And Raised was a little too self-aggrandizing, but maybe that was just a necessary transitory step. And hell, I've been surprised by acoustic acts earlier this year, maybe I'll get lucky twice. So how does John Mayer's new album Paradise Valley turn out?

video review: 'trap lord' by a$ap ferg

I talk about the new album from A$AP Ferg titled 'Trap Lord', and the reasons why trap music doesn't always work with me.

Oh, and outside of maybe two songs, the album's pretty mediocre. Sorry.

album review: 'trap lord' by a$ap ferg

Here's something you might not know: the term 'trap' often heard in rap and electronica is significantly different than you might think.

You see, in electronica and dubstep, 'trap' tended to refer to a specific type of instrumentation, complete with accelerating 808 drums, an excess of hi-hats, menacing string sections, and moody, darker layers of synthesizers. Now I'll admit right out of the gate that I'm not the biggest fan of this particular musical style, but I can definitely see its appeal, particularly when balanced out with the right lyrics. After all, cold, bleak minimalism can work if you have a performer with enough charisma or force of personality to back it up (which is rare enough in its own right, keep that in mind). 

Unfortunately, the definition of trap instrumentation is very different than what is typically considered 'trap' lyrics, which uses the term much more literally as a reference to the trapped lifestyles that many rappers struggled to escape, the traps created thanks to poverty, societal inequalities, or other such factors. And to be fair, the places where trap instrumentation and trap lyrics are balanced out can lead to some compelling symmetry within the song. Granted, it won't be much of my thing - to me, too much trap music goes for bombast over grit, which loses some texture - but I can appreciate it when it works.

The problem though, as one could easily say if looking at the Billboard Hot 100, is that this symmetry between trap instrumentation and lyrics rarely gets popular in a big way on the charts. Instead, many producers and rappers have co-opted the trap aesthetic and instrumentation to build their conventional rap songs about money, cars, and hos - and believe me, for often than not it doesn't work at all. This is actually for a fairly simple reason, believe it or not: it's hard to glamorize a lifestyle as attractive to the mainstream audience if you pair it with production and instrumentation that is bleak, dark, and makes it seem like the artist isn't having any fun. It makes the songs come across as astoundingly soulless to me, and often far darker than I suspect the artist intended. And sure, it'd be one thing if the rappers were looking to satirize their lives of partying and paint them as hollow or token, but it's clear that more often than not, they're entirely sincere.

And this isn't me coming down against vapid hip-hop either - when placed in the right context, superficial themes in hip-hop (or indeed any genre of music) can work just fine. Hell, this is all coming from the guy who'll defend crunk more than the majority of critics. As I've mentioned before, there's a place for shallow, hedonistic material, and while it might be indulgent, vacuous, or dumb as hell, it can occasionally be rather entertaining nonetheless (basically my general defense for most hair metal). The problem here doesn't come from the luxury raps, but the placement of said raps against a dour, humourless instrumentation that sucks away the possibilities of fun or awesome bombast.

So with all of that in mind, what could I hope to expect from A$AP Ferg, whose debut album is titled Trap Lord (very much analogous to T.I.'s Trap Muzik from 2003)? I've heard reasonable things about the guy from the underground, but I know exactly how much pressure to conform with the mainstream has ruined all too many rappers who had underground street cred. And while I wasn't intimately familiar with his mixtapes, I was a little encouraged that he somehow managed to dredge out Bone Thugs-n-Harmony from wherever they were and pull them onto the album. It couldn't be that bad, right?

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: 'crash my party' by luke bryan

Let's talk a bit about supply and demand.

See, it's very basic economics that if you have a lot of demand and the supply stays constant, the price will go up. Similarly, if you keep the demand constant and increase the supply, the price will go down. And you might not believe it, but a similar conceit applies to music - if you have an influx of artists who are making similar versions of the same basic genre and no added increase in demand, how much people care about said artists will decrease. And if you think I'm kidding, think back to the boy band explosion of the late 90s or the crunk boom of the early 2000s - there might have been a few standouts, but the music industry pumped out a lot of very similar artists in order to capitalize on presumed trends.

And really, that's one of the few explanations I have for the current massive influx of male country acts on the pop charts right now. As of now, there are about twenty unique male country acts occupying spots on Billboard's Hot 100 - that's a fifth of the chart. In comparison, there are precisely two female country acts (Carrie Underwood and Taylor Swift) and I have a hard time calling either of them pure country acts!

So how to explain this sudden influx? Well, if I were to hazard a guess, I suspect it might be partially linked to the indie rock explosion last year, where a more organic sound and 'greater authenticity' became more attractive to the mainstream public in the aftermath of the club boom. So at some point the industry executives looked up from their cocaine buckets and thought, "Well, we could go into the indie or folk rock scene and find some new acts - but oh man, they have distortion and a grittier sound and occasionally challenging subject matter and that just makes my brain hurt!" And then some bright young jackass in the board room thought, "Hey, what about those country guys? They're inoffensive and easy enough to market - we've been doing it for years, after all - and the country music scene is so polished it's practically pop anyways! Let's leave the folk rock to Mumford & Sons and Phillip Phillips, leave Kurt Vile twisting in the wind, and force Kacey Musgraves to tour with Kenny freaking Chesney if she wants to build any buzz! See, problem solved!"

Ugh. So there you have it, folks, the reason why we have over a dozen practically interchangeable male country acts dominating the charts. Sure, there's a few bright spots - Tim McGraw and Brad Paisley routinely have a fair amount of quality, and Lady Antebellum and the Zac Brown Band will always get a few crossover hits - but certainly not many. The pandering insincerity of it all makes me sick, even if it doesn't surprise me.

And speaking of acts that don't surprise me and also kind of make me sick, let's talk about Luke Bryan.

Now let me qualify this a bit and say Luke Bryan is better than the majority of his peers. For starters, he actually has a personality, some charisma, and a distinctive voice that has country flavour. I wouldn't quite say he has a sense of humour in the vein of Brad Paisley or Toby Keith, but he's sincere enough and his delivery tends to be believable. His instrumentation is a bit more of a mixed bag, but occasionally can have some real texture and rock energy. And better yet, he doesn't tend to engage in the heavy-handed political moralizing that taints acts like Jason Aldean and Justin Moore, preferring to have a much smaller, more intimate focus (there is still some southern pandering, but it's a modern country album, there'll always be that out of Nashville). Hell, I'd even argue that he's a reasonably talented songwriter, at least on a technical level.

Here's my big problem, though: Luke Bryan can really be an asshole, sort of in the same vein as Adam Levine from Maroon 5. He's not nearly as catty, but there definitely can be that undercurrent of leering douchebaggery that really rubs me the wrong way, mostly because of the delivery and framing of the songs. Take 'Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye' from his album Tailgates and Tanlines (which is just an album title that tells you more than you ever needed to know about Luke Bryan's priorities), which is basically 'One More Night' by Maroon 5 with a country twist. It's a song about a toxic relationship that only works when Bryan and his partner are having sex, but it's set up as being so romantic, when it reality it's unrealistic, sleazy, and a little misogynist, all traits that are amped to eleven on 'Country Girl (Shake It For Me)'. And look, I like my share of rap and hair metal debauchery, but when Luke Bryan tries to fuse in a call list of items of southern pride, it sounds both pandering and leering in the worst possible way. And then, of course, there's 'I Know You're Gonna Be There', where Luke Bryan cheats on his wife/girlfriend in plain sight of her just to make sure she still cares about him, with no consideration for his wife or the other girl (who he flat out admits he doesn't care about), and it's another song that's framed as him just testing her love. I honestly shouldn't have to explain everything that's wrong with that. (EDIT: I'm been informed by a trusted source that my interpretation of 'I Know You're Gonna Be There' is likely incorrect, with Bryan not referring to a current relationship, but an ex-girlfriend he's not over. I'm still of the opinion it doesn't make things better.)

But with all of that being said, I took a look at Luke Bryan's newest album Crash My Party, curious to see if some of the texture and good songwriting I liked made it over and the asshole behaviour had been dropped. For once, did I get lucky?

YouTube review after the jump