Thursday, July 12, 2012

album review: 'write me back' by r. kelly


Short version: it's good but just shy of great. R. Kelly is always a compelling performer, but it feels like he was on autopilot for this album, and it doesn't quite strike the same gold its predecessor did. Give it a listen, but I'd check out his 2010 album 'Love Letter' first.

It's always interesting to speculate on the questionable sanity of pop artists.

For some people, it's easy. Despite Katy Perry's questionable choices in men, it's obvious from press interviews that's she's quite sane. Jay-Z, likewise, is very much a sane musician and businessman. Same with Usher, and his protege Justin Bieber - they're quite rational, all things considered. In fact, I'd argue most pop acts, given their commercial focus, can be deemed quite sane and rational. 

And then, of course, you have the artists who have questionable sanity at best, or to be blunt, can have their mental state summarized as a blend of mixed nuts and batshit. These are the artists who delve into weirdness and strange spectacle without prodding, and whose antics off-stage are often solid proof of their fragile contact with reality. Some artists really straddle the line, and indeed it's tough to gauge the difference between insane talent and genuine insanity (that'd be your Lady Gaga and Ke$ha analogues), so often times you have to look to more than just the character they play in their music, but also who they are in real life. 

Let's take Kanye West, for instance. The man is a gifted musical producer with incredible and often strange ideas for his music. But the off-the-wall statements, his bizarre rants on Twitter, the incident at the 2009 VMAs with Taylor Swift, and that incredibly bizarre album sampler/art film Runaway that he somehow wrote, directed, starred in, and funded all by himself - all of these suggest a man with amazing talent, but also that something important was knocked loose in his brain. And I don't even think I need to go into the history of a man like Prince, who has done so many off-beat and weird things with both his music and his personal life that I really don't have time to describe them all. Suffice to say, when you have seriously talented artists who might not have all their marbles in a row, the brand of insanity from their actual lives can bleed into their music, and add a real spice to all of their music. 

And with all the talk of insanity, I have to talk about R. Kelly.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

album review: 'days go by' by the offspring


Short version: you know what, this is, for once, the easy part. This album is a soulless, worthless, desperate cash-in by a punk band that grew up and lost their edge and sense of humour. If you're a fan, avoid at all costs. If you're not a fan, keep avoiding. 

Long version...

And here we come to the last review in the trifecta of terrible tunes, and despite my general tiredness and antipathy towards people who somehow like this music, those aren't the emotions that dominate my mind right now.

No, right now, I'm just sad. Genuinely disappointed and sad, because of all three albums that I reviewed, this one sucks for the worst possible reasons, reasons that you can't easily dismiss as incompetence.

Guys, The Offspring's Days Go By sucks not because of laziness or arrogance, but because it's an album by a band out of time, struggling desperately to keep up with the times and failing miserably because they just aren't the same people they were ten or fifteen years ago. In short, they grew up, and just aren't fun anymore.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

album review: 'overexposed' by maroon 5


Short version: an album that's bitter, detached, and genuinely unpleasant to listen to. Worse still, the entire exercise comes across as completely insincere when in comparison with the one truly genuine song on the album. Top it off with a real loss of unique sound and some horrible lyrical choices, and you have a real mess of an album from a band who is capable of so much better.

Longer version...

It's always interesting to take a step back away from the typical pop music scene and consider the genres that influence it at various points. At points, rock music has been dominant, at others R&B or hip-hop or rap. At some points, there have even been influences from the indie scene or the country scene, particularly recently. 

But what becomes more interesting that even that are the acts that influence the music scene and the pop acts. These are the bands that push the boundaries, try something new, experiment with concepts or production techniques or interesting sounds. Sure, the experiments sometimes fail, but the attempt can be important as well, as it could be worthy of analysis to try and figure out why things didn't work out.

And today I'm going to talk about Maroon 5 - a band that once had a unique sound and looked to influence pop music, and then completely sold out and lost it. I can't say I'm all that surprised or all that disappointed.

Monday, July 9, 2012

album review: 'fortune' by chris brown


Short version: even by the low, low standards of dance music, I can't recommend this album. Easily in contention for one of the worst albums of the year (not just by me, either, the critics are panning this album), and if society had any taste, it would end Chris Brown's career. I have nothing kind to say about it, so if you like rants, keep reading.

Longer version...

Ugh, I hate this. I really don't want to do this.

Seriously, I don't. I was actually seriously considering combining the three reviews I planned for this long weekend together, and not because of any profound thematic connection or even a shared genre. No, I was going to combine them all together because I don't want to have to put myself through this three times in a row. 

I mean, it's not often you see this sort of thing. Three albums released within days of each other, none of which I can comfortably say reach any sort of good. And in this particular case (with this album), this is the kind of bad that spirals down clear past 'So Bad It's Good' into the void of dispassionate loathing and hatred.

And on the topic of dispassionate loathing, let's talk about Chris Brown.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

movie review: 'ted'


Short version: Yeah, I know that this review is late, and I should be talking about Chris Brown. Fuck that, I don't care, I just saw the movie, and I want to talk about it. As it is, it's a great comedy with Seth MacFarlane finally bringing his A-game. Great acting from the leads on a utterly conventional and unessential plot, but still definitely worth seeing as it's probably one of the funniest movies you'll see this year. Go see this movie. 

Longer version...

You know, you can't talk about Ted without talking about Seth MacFarlane, and you can't talk about MacFarlane without talking about Family Guy, so let's get this part out of the way quickly (I've never watched American Dad or The Cleveland Show, so I can't and won't comment on them). Yes, I liked Family Guy. I think the first five seasons are damn excellent with some clever gags, some surprisingly deft dialogue, some quirky subtext, and some actual genuine heart you wouldn't expect. My favourite character is Brian (obviously), with Stewie and Peter being close seconds. I found the show to be genuinely entertaining, a great way to waste time, and the more clever of the pop culture references always amused me. 

And then... something happened. It was after it had been moved to Adult Swim, and after 'Blue Harvest', the first Star Wars themed episode, but I can't quite pinpoint the exact moment when it happened. What I do know is that after that point, Family Guy stopped being the consistently funny and occasionally heartwarming show I liked and became something else. And that something else was darker, more cynical, and loaded with the kind of anti-humour gags that only work on Adult Swim when you're baked out of your mind. The show began relying much more heavily on cut-away gags that rarely worked as well as they should have, and even some of the novelty episodes began feeling phoned in (this was present in both 'Something Something Dark Side' and 'It's A Trap!', the followup Star Wars episodes). It began in Season 6 and then actively got a lot worse in Season 7 and 8 - suddenly, outside of a few glimmering moments like 'Brian & Stewie' and the 'Road To...' episodes, the show got a lot less watchable. The show became a depressing, angry shell of its former self, and I really found it unpleasant. And plenty of critics agreed, attacking the show for its reliance on cheap shock humour, bad cutaway gags, and terrible pop culture references. Even Seth MacFarlane admitted he wasn't a fan of what Family Guy had become.

So when Ted was announced, a film that Seth MacFarlane wrote, directed, and starred in, I was a little nervous about how good it could possibly be. I was sure that some of the traditional Family Guy tropes would be there, but which would he include, and which would work? Would it be like Tim & Eric's Billion Dollar Movie, a critical flop because it took the excuse of an R-rating and cranked up the scatological humour without a better script, using the higher budget to make everything bigger and more stupid? Or would it be like the excellent Simpsons movie, a show that harkened back to the best of the source material, simply making it bigger and better along the way?

Saturday, July 7, 2012

album review: 'synthetica' by metric


Short version: an intriguing, but flawed album from a band I can recognize is good, but I've never quite liked. In this review, I try to figure out why with mixed success, and take a look at a pretty good album that's missing the thesis statement that would elevate it to greatness.

Here's an odd question for you all: have you ever found something - be it a video game, a movie, a television show, a band, a song - that you've realized is quite good, but is just missing something to make them a favourite of yours? Maybe it's a flaw in the art design, maybe it's a bad character, maybe it's an awkward control, or maybe it's just a personal foible - hell, you might not even be able to distinguish what the flaw is, but you know it's there. You can fully recognize why other people like it, and you can even respect the talent and effort that goes into that thing, but you just can't get behind it like everyone else. 

I can answer the question definitively for a number of things. I know that Lil Wayne is really good, but his meandering flow and hashtag rap doesn't connect with me. I know the Foo Fighters are a great band, but there's something about their delivery and performance that puts me off slightly. I know both of these acts are really good, sometimes at the very top of their genre, but there's something that's preventing me from liking them as much as I want to.

And in the indie rock scene, one of those acts that I wish I could like more than I do is the Canadian post-punk New Wave band known as Metric.

Friday, July 6, 2012

album review: 'down to the river' by monica munro

Short version: an indie folk/jazz singer/songwriter that you've likely never heard of, but who you definitely should be listening to. Strong points go to her excellent delivery, clever songwriting, and a few surprise stand-outs that elevate her above the usual conventions of her genre. Definitely one you should check out.

Those of you who actually read these reviews (and I have no idea who you are, by the way) are probably a bit perplexed by this name and album. Hell, after the shouty-then-sullen behaviour in my Linkin Park review (which is ironic, come to think about it), you probably I expected I was going to review Metric's new album before I went after Chris Brown.

And indeed, I am planning on taking on Metric's Synthetica next time before I pummel Chris Brown's Fortune, but this is a rather different review for me for a number of reasons, and while I will be just as characteristically harsh, I ultimately want to walk away from this review with a smile on my face (so make of that what you will).

Thursday, July 5, 2012

album review: 'living things' by linkin park


Short version: in which I finally get a chance to vent about rap metal and nu-metal (yes, it's been long in coming), and I get the chance to explain completely why I hate those genres with a burning passion. Oh, and then I review some album called 'Living Things', which was only distinctive in its ability to disappoint me. Wonderful.

How many of you remember rock in the mid-to-late 90s? Because I can say this definitively - having briefly revisted that era to do a bit of research, you don't want to.

I should explain this. After Kurt Cobain's death and the collapse of Nirvana, grunge rock lost market share, and while alternative rock pushed by bands like R.E.M. continued to hold some sway, there was a rush to fill the void with a variance of musical styles. Punk received a mild mainstream revival thanks to bands like Green Day, weird psychedelic/prog rock began making headway in the underground (like with the Flaming Lips, Radiohead and Porcupine Tree), and even ska got a brief, painfully short time in the limelight. Sure, bands like Soundgarden and the Foo Fighters and the Smashing Pumpkins were continuing what Cobain started, but towards the end of the decade, they would find their mainstream spotlight usurped by an unholy, haphazard blend of genres that touched off some of the worst trends in rock at the turn of the millennium.

Yes, I'm talking about rap metal.

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

movie review: 'the amazing spider-man'



Short version: well, it's okay. Realize that I've never been the biggest Spider-Man fan, but I will say that certain elements (like the leads and some of the aesthetic) really do work, but they're let down by an uneven supporting cast, some iffy effects, and a really problematic script. It's worth seeing, but it's not going to change your life. Warning: if you're a hardcore fan of Spider-Man, particularly of the Sam Raimi films, this movie will make you spit fire and brimstone, and while I can't say that you're not somewhat justified, you could do so much worse.

Longer version...

You know, I was all set to talk about all of the factors behind why this movie was made, and all the contributing factors. Having kept up to date on much of the press and buzz surrounding this movie, I couldn't help but feel both jaded and a little angry that it was being made at all. Even despite great casting and a hugely promising villain (I'll come back to this), I had a really bad feeling about this movie.

Because let's be honest here, this movie isn't being made because the writers wanted to try something special. This isn't being made because the Spider-Man story needs another fresh coat of paint with promising talent. No, this movie is being made because Marvel and Disney want the Spider-Man license back so they can team him up with the Avengers, and the only way Sony gets to hold onto the Spider-Man license is make a quick movie on the fly with the most affordable cast of stars they can scramble together. They threw Sam Raimi out and under the bus because he was difficult to work with on Spider-Man 3 (can't blame him, exactly, considering he wanted to use the Lizard or Vulture and was instead forced to use a shitty, shitty version of Venom - sorry, Topher Grace, but you couldn't have redeemed that), and they wanted to go for a darker, edgier sensibility. Immediately, this set off warning bells for me, because I know well that from the comics, making Spider-Man stories darker doesn't make them better. The fact that this seemed to be a remake for all the wrong reasons (drawing story cues from the Ultimate Spider-Man series in the comics) just didn't sit well with me.

And continuing on that thread, as much as I knew they had a great cast for this movie with Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone and Denis Leary and Martin Sheen, I still had misgivings. As much as I think Tobey Maguire and Kirsten Dunst aren't compelling leads, the supporting cast of Raimi's Spider-Man movies was phenomenal. I mean, James Franco, Willem Dafoe, J.K Simmons (who is awesome in anything and everything), Alfred Molina, Rosemary Harris, and Thomas Haden Church all gave great performances in the trilogy. Yes, sometimes the movies were a bit campy and silly, but that's Sam Raimi's sensibilities for you - he got the tone and style of the better Spider-Man comics down pat, even if Peter wasn't snapping off one-liners. 

And here's the other thing: for the most part, all three of the Raimi Spider-Man movies are pretty damn good. The second is widely considered one of the best superhero movies of all time, but I like the first one a little more because Willem Dafoe is awesome. But even the third one I'd still hold to being a good movie - just not a great Spider-Man movie (and that has to do with a lengthy diatribe regarding Sandman and Venom and a number of other factors that would eventually descend into a clusterfuck of nerd rage). Yes, it's over-plotted and a little stupid at points, but there are moments of genuine artistic genius in that movie (my personal favourites being the Sandman creation scene in the particle physics research facility and the clocktower scene). To me at least, there doesn't seem to be a need to retell the Spider-Man story - there's already been three good movies exploring it - unless, of course, you're going to do something new with it.

But enough dancing around the issue - all of you know the history behind this production, and you just want me to talk about the movie. And so with that in mind, I went to see The Amazing Spider-Man on a stormy night, trying desperately to shove the misgivings out of my heart, and...

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

album review: 'avenged sevenfold' by avenged sevenfold (RETRO REVIEW)



Short version: it's a retro review that finally gives me the chance to vent on a genre I haven't talked much about. Suffice to say, the album left me with a lot to say, and I can't guarantee it's all pleasant. But then again, considering how much Avenged Sevenfold is a butt of bad jokes on the internet, you can't really be surprised about that. 

There are some bands, particularly when viewed in retrospect, have had their music and reputations change somewhat. Viewing them outside of the trends they were riding, one can appreciate them with fresh perspective, find nuances and influences outside of their sphere, and perhaps grant them more respect.

And then there's Avenged Sevenfold.

Monday, July 2, 2012

movie review: 'rock of ages'



Short version: it's a glorious disaster of a film, both parody and completely straight. There's no surprise this film is failing catastrophically at the box office, and there are some good reasons for that. The leads aren't very good, the songs aren't great, and the storyline is a mountain of cliches - but then again, if you've seen the musical, you'd know with the last one that that's the point. So yeah, it's another 'So Bad It's Good' movie, and... ah, hell, I enjoyed it. I had a lot of fun, and frankly, though  I can't see the movie is anywhere close to good, some scenes in that movie are kind of glorious. Plus, Tom Cruise gives one of his best performances in decades.  

Longer version...

Let me tell you a story.

I first got into heavy metal when I was about fourteen, mostly due to the fact that I had heard people had made songs about characters in the fantasy novels I was reading (the Dragonlance series, for those who care). Now since most of this metal was inspired by fantasy, it tended towards the power and symphonic genres, and for the most part, it was cheesy as all hell. I can admit this - bands like Nightwish and Blind Guardian and Kamelot and Dragonforce and Within Temptation have a certain factor of ridiculousness that makes them easy as hell to make fun of. It's an easy joke, and it's one I don't have much of a problem with. Now granted, there will always be stuff that will rise above genre and achieve acclaim, but suffice to say there's a reason why metal is seldom treated with any respect, even in an era where pop, country, and even techno have critical acclaim.

However, the Adult Swim show Metalocalypse often touches on a theme that tends to be unexplored in the discussion of heavy metal, or indeed most hard rock of the past forty years. This theme is simple: that kind of music might be silly or cheesy or a little ridiculous, but if you're the right mindset, it can be epic and powerful and just as moving as the more serious and critically accepted grunge and alt rock most people prefer. The thing is, most people can't get into that headspace, mostly due to their disdain for metal as a 'low' musical genre, or their own pride preventing them from being a part of the 'joke' and potentially being laughed at for the acceptance of actually liking something silly. In fact, you can stretch this general concept to cover a lot of material - the bubblegum pop of the 90s, anything tinged with fantasy or sci-fi, or even musicals.

Continuing my story from above and fast forwarding a few years, I began listening to a lot of musicals in the fall of 2009, and around that time I discovered a jukebox musical called Rock of Ages. It was a musical filled with hit songs from the hair metal era, and I rapidly took a liking to it. What made the musical special - at least to me - was that it seemed to be in on the 'joke' - it accepted the cheesiness and silliness of the hair metal era (doubled by the fact that the songs were in a musical, of all things) and played things for laughs, but it also ran with the fact that in the right mindset, the music was fucking glorious. It didn't matter that Don't Stop Believing or Here I Go Again or We Built This City were overused, corny, and often times a little silly - they were going to play it straight and for the people who could get into it, it would be glorious and epic and fun. Remember fun rock music? It was like that before the early 90s came along and told everyone in the rock industry that they had to be serious, and maybe (just maybe) the simultaneous declines of rock of all striipes on the charts is because nobody is having any fun anymore.

For another example, do you want to know why I find it so damn hard to get into the Foo Fighters? It's because on every bloody track I try to listen to, Dave Grohl and his band aren't having fun - they're being all morose and serious and bitter, because ROCK MUSIC IS SERIOUS BUSINESS. You know, say what you want about Nickelback, but at least the damn band is learning from their post-grunge roots and is trying to add more glorious silly fun to their act (it's what made 'This Afternoon', a late single of their Dark Horse album, halfway listenable). They aren't really succeeding, but at least they're trying.

So now we come to Rock of Ages, the movie, a film set in 1987, the peak of hair metal. The storyline is cliched to the point of ridiculousness - young people trying and failing to make it big in the metal scene - and about the time when everybody begins tuning out or groaning with exasperation, Alec Baldwin (playing Dennis Dupri, the hard-edged bar owner) turns up and ruthlessly lampshades the entire damned movie. At this point, Rock of Ages is sending you a message - even though the movie will continue to take itself seriously, you certainly shouldn't be. 

Sunday, July 1, 2012

album review: 'believe' by justin bieber

Short version / opening: I don't know who to blame for Justin Bieber. Or what to do with him. And from his newest album, I can say this definitively: neither does anybody else.

I mean, who do you hold responsible for Justin Bieber at this stage right now? Do you blame the kid himself, a poor but musically talented kid who got unbelievably lucky thanks to YouTube and is now becoming a product of the pop star universe around him? Do you blame Usher, who made him his protege and has cultivated elements of Bieber's image and personality in ways that would come back to haunt him? Do you blame the producers who are desperately trying to pin down what Justin Bieber should become, trying every option they can in a whirlwind of A-list production, guest stars, and half-formed musical ideas? Do you blame Justin Bieber's managers, who haven't provided him nearly enough guidance to prevent the fame from going straight to Bieber's head and turning him into a little entitled shithead with a cockiness he hasn't earned? Do you blame Selena Gomez, his far-more-talented girlfriend who has somehow managed to walk the line between innocence and sluttiness with a deft touch beyond most of her contemporaries and predecessors (Demi Lovato, Lindsey Lohan, Miley Cyrus, Hilary Duff to some extent, Britney Spears, the list goes on), and who clearly hasn't helped Bieber become less of a douche? Do we blame Bieber's protege Carly Rae Jepsen for releasing one of the most irritatingly juvenile and catchy songs of the year with 'Call Me Maybe' (which is now the number one song on the Billboard Hot 100 - kill me now), and who has been publically criticized for dressing like a preteen girl, far younger than her age of 26?

No, at this point, while I am going to place blame on all of these people for this album and what Bieber's become in the past few years, the real blame needs to be placed on Justin Bieber's rabid, preteen-to-teenage female fanbase, the girls who create mobs who throng Justin Bieber and spur the paparazzi to chase him with unparalleled fury outside of Brangelina and allegations that John Travolta might be gay. The girls that buy tons of Bieber merchandise to replace their Hannah Montana fixations and call themselves Beliebers (ugh, that word hurts to write). And the girls who have tastes so nebulous and fleeting that in the desire to appeal to them, the producers and writers of this album have completely abandoned any thematic conceits to create an album so unfocused and schizophrenic that I half-expected guest starring spots from Tony Bennett, Andrew W.K., and Eminem.  Sadly, none of those guest stars showed up, because Tony Bennett was too busy working on some new jazz album, Eminem was working double-time between helping push Slaughterhouse and finish his eighth album, and Andrew W.K. was going to a My Little Pony convention to speak on a panel of 'In The Flesh: What Would Pinkie Pie Do?' (this is totally true, by the way, look it up - you can't invent shit like that).

Saturday, June 30, 2012

album review: 'looking 4 myself' by usher



Short version: a very good collection of singles about sex that unfortunately lack the coherence to be a truly great album. Still, outside of a few hiccups, Usher does a pretty great job singing elegantly minimalistic songs about sex, sex, and more sex. Also, sex.

When Michael Jackson stopped making pop music, there was immediately a race in the pop culture scene for his replacement, and while a number of artists were aspiring for the crown, it very quickly came to pass that only two artists would have a chance in hell of rising to the occasion.

The first contender was Justin Timberlake, and with Timbaland, he found his Quincy Jones. And for a while, Justin Timberlake seemed to have the race sewn up convincingly. Emerging as one of the few surviving artists of the boy band collapse in the early 2000s, Timberlake had the right mix of swagger, charisma, bombast, and sexuality that made him a good contender, and his release of Futuresex/Lovesounds in the mid-2000s cemented his dominance as a pop star. 

Now granted, I've never liked the majority of the music that Justin's produced in his solo career. With a few exceptions, Justin Timberlake's music has lacked the soul necessary to assert dominance in the pop star world. And maybe it's just me, but Justin Timberlake has never seemed to try all that hard. He lacks the rawness that made so many of Michael's singles and albums work so damn well. To him, a genuine triple-threat, music and stardom came naturally, and thus I've always been disappointed that Timberlake has never pushed himself in his experimentation. Now granted, he has experimented, but never in a way that I found particularly compelling - it's all too slick, all too controlled, and never quite achieves the epic scale that he should.

Well, it seems like Justin himself agreed with me, because after doing a few jokey (albeit brilliant) videos with The Lonely Island, he seems to have departed the pop star universe to pursue roles in movies, where he's established himself as a pretty damn great actor. And that leaves us with only one candidate for Michael's throne: Usher.



Okay, I've got to be honest here, I've always really liked Usher. The man has a great voice, is a superb dancer, and a ton of charisma. Even with his early songs, the man always sounded genuine, and that earned a lot of points with me. He's confident without the need to brag, and he's always deserved his spot in the pop star A-List, at least in my opinion. Of course, it's also helped that the man solidified his claim to pop stardom with the fantastic Confessions album in 2004, but I bought into him earlier with his hit 'You Remind Me' in the early 2000s, which won me over with some slick production and Usher's genuine charm. Overall, I was all set to support Usher all the way through the rest of the decade.

And then... something happened. Some have blamed his marriage, some have blamed a lack of ideas, some have blamed his repeated collaborations with Black Eyed Peas frontman and wannabe-auteur/hack will.I.am, but in the end, I'm not sure of whom the blame truly lies (I'm fairly certain it's will.I.am, though). What I do know is that for a period of about six years, from 2005-mid-2010, Usher stopped being good in a shockingly immediate way (I blame will.I.am). Part of it, I will admit, was the embrace of Autotune, and while I'm not against the use of Autotune in ways to enhance one's personality (Ke$ha, T-Pain) or to convey specific themes and styling (Kanye West), I don't like it when good singers feel the need to use it, or when lazy singers (see Jason Derulo and Katy Perry) use it to cover up their inability to hit a note (or, you know, will.I.am). So like the Backstreet Boys, Usher began using Autotune, and like my favourite boy band, his music suffered for it, reaching a low with 'O.M.G.', featuring will.I.am, one of the clumsiest and stupidest songs to come out of 2010 (which I'd argue was a really, REALLY bad year for music - thank you so much, will.I.am).

However, I will give Usher some credit, in that his 2010 album Raymond v. Raymond wasn't terrible. It wasn't great - the abundance of bad singles completely overlooking the fact the album was a breakup album didn't help matters - but there were a few gems in the pile. And upon closer examination, I was rather psyched when I heard the opening singles for Usher's new album that dropped a few days ago. Not only had Usher opted for a more mature, complex style, he'd also dumped the autotune and bad production, and looked prepared to engage in some pretty serious themes. 

And then the opening song was a club song courtesy of production from will.I.am, and Usher was singing with Autotune. Fucking wonderful.

And believe you me, 'Can't Stop, Won't Stop' is fucking horrible. Arguably worse than O.M.G., the beat is recycled garbage the Black Eyed Peas would have embarrassed to put out, and the lyrics are fucking wretched, to the point where I refuse to type them in this note on the fear that they'll make my readership collectively stupider by reading them. Suffice to say, it failed cataclysmically as both a dance song and a sex song, and considering this is coming from one of the most successful singers about sex since Prince, that's saying something.

And it's clear from the opening tracks that Looking 4 Myself (and yes, that's the title of Usher's brand new 'single-and-loving-it' album) that this album is going to be chiefly loaded with songs about sex - but to be fair, this isn't a bad thing. I made the Prince analogy earlier, and the reason it fits is because Usher, like Justin Timberlake, can sing about sex and make it sound adult and sexual instead of juvenile and pornographic (unlike, say, Chris Brown, who feels the best way to sing about sex is write a song called 'Wet The Bed' - dear god, I wish I was kidding). 

So after the horrible opener, Usher immediately hits two hits straight out of the park with 'Scream' and 'Climax'. The first song is a club sex song, but it works pretty much because the lyrics aren't stupid and Usher can carry a song like this in his fucking sleep. And honestly, it's probably one of the best club sex songs I've heard in a long time. However, his latter song, 'Climax', is fantastic not just because it emulates Prince-esque falsetto, but because the restraint on the song gives Usher a chance to make a song that's pure sex. This is one of the few times where sexuality can carry a song, an object lesson to every R&B singer in the industry now.

In fact, 'Climax' contains two important traits that symbolize the entire album: overarching themes of sex, and constrained minimalism. Fortunately, unlike the era of minimalist R&B (2002-2005), Usher's production is modulated to precisely the right scope to nail the theme of the track. So while 'Climax' and 'Dive' are epic in their broad emptiness, quieter tracks like 'What Happened To U' use their stillness to create a much more contrained atmosphere. Part of this is aided by Usher's impressive layering of harmonies - instead of relying on heavy overproduction to create a wall of sound, Usher uses a much more delicate touch, overdubbing his voice multiple times to create a powerful chorus that still manages to fit the atmosphere of the songs.

Now, granted, the minimalism does slip at points, but even the more heavily produced tracks like 'Scream' or 'Numb' have an impressive air of restraint, blending modern synths (with a thankful lack of dubstep drops) with a feel that's more analogous to Prince's Purple Rain than anything produced by anyone else in the industry. What's more, when Usher does choose to use instrumentation, he doesn't shy away from raw electric guitar or keyboard, tightly constrained to create the potent sound he wants. In an era where raw silence and pacing is abhorred by the music industry, it's a welcome change. The big exceptions to that trend are the first track and the Euro-trash house-inspired final track 'Euphoria', which was produced by the Swedish House Mafia (and it shows), but I'll even give it some points for having more restraint and class than most modern house music.

Do I have any complaints about the instrumentation? Eh, the reverb is abused on a few tracks, but I can forgive it for the reason that it's used to augment the empty minimalism that aids the album's atmosphere. Less easy to forgive are some of the unnecessary synth choices, the most glaring was the choice for a really annoying electronic plinking that bleeds over 'Lessons For The Lover' and detracts from a pretty impressive multi-part harmony on the chorus. 

But moving away from the instrumentation, what can I really say about the lyrics or the themes of the album? Surprisingly, not much - namely because this isn't as much of an album as a series of sexually charged singles. The majority of songs seem primed to be played in the bedrooms of young couples looking for ambient sex music (with the exception of 'Sins Of My Father', which is an odd standout that has a bit more lyrical complexity and a real noir feel, but the sweet bass line and multipart harmony means it's still useable in the ambient-sex-music role as well). Some of them are danceable enough, but in a way that seems to imply explicitly sexual dancing that translates into sex later. 

Now I've made the argument that sexuality isn't an excuse for artistic creditability, and that I've castigated bands like the Pussycat Dolls for simply playing on sex appeal to sell songs. So am I a hypocrite for then not having much of a problem when Usher publishes an album that is effectively the soundtrack for sex in 2012?

Well, here's the point that redeems Usher in my eyes: quality. On the majority of songs on this album, Usher's production is top-of-the-line, and the man is seriously vocally talented, with the technical skill to manage a multi-part harmony on his best tracks. There is so much constraint and control on the album, not a single wasted moment on his better tracks, and there's an elegance that's impossible to fake. Compare to, say, the Pussycat Dolls, or Chris Brown, both who sell explicitly sexual material. The problem is here is that while the production is okay on some of their tracks and the vocals might be decent, there's no artistry or creativity, nothing to distinguish the Pussycat Dolls from Girlicious or Chris Brown from any one of his imitators. It also helps that Usher has dignity and poise for his sexual anthems that add a welcome layer of maturity that I'd even argue Ludacris and Lil Wayne don't have. 

So yeah, am I going to say that I'm a little disappointed Usher didn't experiment with differing themes besides sex, sexuality, and more sex in his lyrics, or explore a more coherent overarching theme for the album as a whole? Yeah, a little bit. Am I annoyed that the album isn't quite as strong as it could be, due to its lack of broader experimentation besides flirtations with minimalism, constraint, and multi-part harmony? Yeah, a little bit. 

But I can't deny the truth of the matter: in refining his craft on this album, Usher has probably produced one of the best albums that's universally about sex in a long time, and with songs like 'Climax', he's got it down to an art form that outstrips his nearest competitors by miles. Definitely a step in the right direction, and definitely the right - if explicit - step for Usher. He's still got work before he's ready to take on Michael's vacant throne, but he's getting there.

Move over, Justin Timberlake: in 2012, Usher's bringing sexy back.

Friday, June 29, 2012

album review: 'strange clouds' by b.o.b.



Short version: a promising album with moments of true brilliance, but hampered by unnecessary guest stars, compromised production, studio interference, and B.o.B.'s lack of creative assertion. Overall, a good album, but it could have been a great one.

Today, I'm going to talk briefly about the breakdown of regionalization in rap music. 

Now, as utterly pretentious and completely boring as that might sound, it's actually something that says a lot about the evolution in hip-hop and rap music over the past twenty to twenty-five years. Considering most of you reading this probably weren't alive or old enough to care about this sort of thing, let me make this very explicit: back in the 80s and 90s, it mattered where your hip-hop and rap came from, and each region developed their own distinctive style. 

The first two regions that really grew were the East and West Coast. Driven by developments in New York and L.A., this was where the first real differences in the genre grew up. On the East Coast, lyrical dexterity was prized, with multisyllabic rhyming and complex wordplay. This is the coast that spawned Biggie and Jay-Z and Public Enemy and Nas, politically charged poets that greatly elevated their craft. On the West Coast, we had the explosion of gangsta rap and G-funk, driven by marijuana and great beats, inspiring artists like Snoop Dogg, Ice Cube, Dr. Dre, and Tupac Shakur. Suffice to say, the highly charged mid-90s were rocked by the feud between both coasts, escalating to a peak with the deaths of Biggie and 2Pac within months of each other. 

But in the mean time, we also had the growth of rap across other sections of the United States. The first big growth was Midwest hip-hop, driven by N.W.A. and the gangster rap explosion, but the broader diversity of the Midwest led to greater experimentation, such as the speed rap pioneered by Bone Thugs-n-Harmony and Twista and the horrorcore experiments of Eminem, Insane Clown Posse, and Three 6 Mafia. But I'm not here to talk about Midwest rap, or indeed any of the coastal rap movements.

Nope, today we're going to be discussing Southern rap, which is where the artist I'm reviewing today hails from. It's the youngest of the movements, and it also tends to be one most dismissed by critics (unfairly so, but I'll get to that). Granted, there have been a few critical success stories to emerge from 'the Dirty South', like Ludacris, T.I. and Lil Wayne, but most of the genre tends to get dumped upon for not nearly being as intelligent or interesting as their counterparts. It also doesn't help matters that crunk, the 'purple drank' movement, and Miami bass all came from the region - say what you want about the music of those movements, they weren't particularly lyrically dextrous or all that interesting outside of the initial fad. It also tended to be interesting to see how artists would distance themselves from the Southern scene as they got older. Lil Wayne has never rapped about the 'Dirty South', and while Ludacris and T.I. have always had some vestige of a connection to their roots, their later music had a much more pronounced West Coast vibe. It didn't seem that many rappers really wanted to embrace the southern style and culture with any intelligence or gravitas.

Except for one band: OutKast.

Thursday, June 28, 2012

album review: 'what we saw from the cheap seats' by regina spektor



Short version: a frustrating album with some interesting ideas and a few stand-out tracks, let down by some annoying production, haphazard lyrical quality, and questionable delivery. Still, it's worth a look. Also, I deliver a lengthy diatribe about two genres of music I generally dislike. If you like rants, this is a good one. Long version...

There aren't many artists that I can say I despise. On that list... well, we have Jason Derulo, Chris Brown, the Pussycat Dolls, Evanescence, Rick Ross, Slipknot, Foster The People, 3OH!3, 3 Days Grace, Creed...

Okay, maybe the list is a bit longer than I thought, but my point is that there is a set of three artists that I despise for different reasons than those in the list above, and all three of these artists have a first name beginning with J.

Yes, I'm talking about Jack Johnson, John Mayer, and Jason Mraz.

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

album review: 'the flaming lips and heady fwends' by the flaming lips



Short version: it's incredibly weird and the mix of the psychedelic and avant-garde will throw some people off, but in terms of beautifully coherent and powerful art, you're not going to find a better album this year. Highly recommended.

Have you ever contemplated the end of the world?

It may seem like a vague, strange, almost-silly question, drenched in unfortunate implications and terrible pop culture (particularly in this year), but it's something that's fascinated the thinkers, great and small, throughout time. Everyone wonders what the end of the world would be like, what will happen to this tiny planet suspended in the galactic cosmos. Less often is the question of what one would do at the end of the world, and outside of Seeking A Friend For The End Of The World, a Steve Carrell/Keira Knightley movie that's currently one of my most anticipated movies of the summer, most people don't have good answers to the question. Why?

Well, perhaps because the question is loaded, because you're not only forced to contemplate your death in the question, but the chance that everything around you, everything you've ever cherished and loved, will be gone with you. No memories left behind, no fond recollections, no legacy, no... nothing. It was what Melancholia tried (and arguably failed) to capture - the possibility that everything you've ever done will amount to precisely nothing as everything you define as existence collapses and vanishes around you - ultimately, what does everything mean then?

The closest I've ever heard to capturing this vision was the prog/space metal epic from Ayreon 01011001, but that album's themes were more linked to the greater questions of human existence and the significance of life, lacking the necessary focus to truly contemplate this question in any significant detail. I'd also argue the album, while very strong, didn't quite nail down the necessary emotions to truly encapsulate what makes this question so significant. That album, loaded with bombast and intensity, didn't quite capture the little emotions, the quiet thoughts that were necessary to make the question truly resonate. Because, like it or not, not all of us have the courage or force of will to stare straight into the apocalypse with open arms.

The Flaming Lips have the courage, and with their newest album, The Flaming Lips and Heady Fwends, they probably do the most thorough and deep exploration of the question that I've ever heard, with collaborators on every track to lend additional facets to the digression.

And it's glorious.


Tuesday, June 26, 2012

opening post

Greetings, everyone.

This online journal is a place where I might comment on music, TV, movies, video games, novels, or anything else that suits me. I cannot promise the posts will mean much, or will attract attention beyond those curious about my ramblings, but it only takes an instant to start a pulse, and in a society such as ours, a pulse can change the world.

I have no aspirations for such lofty goals, but you never know what might happen. As it is, please don't hesitate to read and comment freely - I'm always interested in whatever people say. 

Welcome, folks, to the spectrum pulse. Let's make it count, folks, it's going to get loud.