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Review (8/11/07)
Release Year: 1990
Painting pictures can be difficult. Not the type that involve your two-dimensional home and the questionable heights of your family members, but the type that involve deeply forested hills blanketed with snow undulating behind the charcoal grey rooftop enclosing a cozy evening had by a couple, hardly different than the ones they experienced for the past twenty years. Capturing the essence of the moment with thousands of brushstrokes is a daunting task, but an experienced artist will provide the viewer with an immense understanding of the work given an appropriate blend of color, altogether spastic and serene. The Cure’s Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me is to music as rich landscapes are to art, delivering a rush of emotion with vibrant notes instead of colors. Kiss Me is a loaded gun with styles of dance overlaying distortion, aimed at developing frustrating undertones to generally upbeat numbers.
Many of the tracks have extensive introductions that provide the atmospheric equivalent of a lush landscape (you may have heard the introduction to “One More Time,” cued during any movie when two long-lost friends run at each other in slow motion). They’re gripping set-ups with intricate shifts driven without the aid of Robert Smith’s haunting vocals. It’s difficult to rule out that he was born in a cemetery because his voice carries a uniqueness that seems to be supported by the dead. Slow and gloomy, Smith’s presence floats into a song like a worker checking in for the graveyard shift. Yet on other tracks like “Why Can’t I Be You?” or “Hot Hot Hot!!!,” Smith warps from his distressed persona into a grooving flamboyance. Though his transitions are convincing and provide for solid dance music, the album as a whole is noticeably awkward because of this contrast.
The first six tracks on Kiss Me are remarkable. Several others after “The Snakepit” are also worth mentioning in a casual post-punk discussion. They make for excellent singles but they are incredibly disjointed, giving the album an identity crisis. Some songs (“How Beautiful You Are,” “Torture”) are so entertaining, however, that they completely overwhelm any lack of cohesiveness.
Among the endlessly entertaining songs, variety is appreciated. “Shiver and Shake” is The Cure’s attempt at punk rock. They rival Ravi Shankar’s sitar with a similar South Asian tuning on “If Only Tonight We Could Sleep.” With “Just Like Heaven,” it appeared The Cure opened a new door in pop’s (the genre, not your nostalgic father) vault for greatest songs ever recorded. With over an hour of material, it seems like the fun never stops…but it does. The album trails off near the end and becomes stuffed with filler. It’s hard to imagine a track had to be cut from the original release as Kiss Me is already a behemoth. In the end you get more than what you paid for, but in this case it’s like eating one more spoonful of the chocolate chunk ice cream you really didn’t need.
Very often when I view art I become bored before I can fully appreciate the work and I end up walking away to save my knees some trouble from poor posture while standing still. Perhaps if Kiss Me were less overwhelming and emptied itself of superfluous songs, I would have stuck around until my legs were sore.
(Review) 7/27/07
Release Year: 1981
Everyone has the song that sparked their eternal interest in music, differentiating themselves from casual radio listeners, and submerging them into unexplored sonic territory. Mine was the Descendents’ “Weinerschnitzel,” an eleven-second musical trip to the drive-thru window that made as little sense to me seven years ago as it does now. While 3,000 miles away from home at a summer camp, a friend in the dorm came down the hall with two tiny computer speakers in hand, connected to his CD player and cranked to a maximum. I remember being told “Listen to this” as the lanky Quincy, who very much resembled Milo on the cover of several Descendents albums, played the track. When asked “Welcome to Der Weinerschnitzel may I take your order please?” the Descendents turn a simple ride to a fast-food joint into a ridiculous punk explosion. They respond with spurts of music, stamping each request of “Two large Cokes, Two large fries / Chili-cheese dog, large Doctor Pepper / Super deluxe, with cheese and tomato.” They’re then asked “Do you want Bill sperm with that?” They reply with a definitive “NO!” and the song is over.
Bill Stevenson is the Descendents’ drummer, and it’s likely an inside joke, perhaps involving mayonnaise. The reason I was so afflicted by this song is that it was completely different; I was used to oldies, Radio Disney, and ZZ Top, but I could not understand why someone would make a song that short and stupid. However, I was dying to hear the song again because I was confounded, and the fact that it was different than anything Art Laboe introduced to me also drove that urge. I would eventually wait until the end of summer until I finally picked up the Descendents’ Milo Goes to College, and the rest is history.
The Descendents’ Fat EP doesn’t really stretch to its length of five minutes, but what it lacks in length…really doesn’t matter. The EP contains the earliest of the Descendents’ work, as immature as ever, with a heavy bite at the end of its hooks. The honest and simple “I Like Food” stresses speed and hunger with a 17-second harangue. Although it may be too concise for its own good, its over the top delivery is fresh and delicious. The bottom line is that the songs are absolutely silly, borderline unnecessary, but indisputably original.
When the midget EP isn’t referring to food, “My Dad Sucks” and “Global Probing” handle adolescence and display the potential of the Descendents’ optimism that would work in full force on future songs like “Hope” or “Pep Talk.” The album’s greatest drawback is that it sounds unbalanced. The guitars are overtly loud, emphasizing the poor production of the album. They also strain and hide bass sections that would greatly improve the music. The noise doesn’t provide an edge as much as it provides irritation, which detracts from the EP’s value.
Despite being very simplistic and immature, the Descendents’ appeal is found in their raw and energetic approach. With a ridiculous flair, they increase their replay value and let the listener discover they have taste buds in their ears! Junk science aside, this album isn’t quite food for thought, but it may be filling if you’re used to small serving sizes.
(Review) 7/26/07
Release Year: 1981
With over 100,000 millionaires living within its boundaries, Orange County, California is one of the wealthiest counties in the United States. Better known as the O.C., it’s also a cesspool filled with ignorance, narcissism, and spoiled teenagers that is considered praiseworthy by MTV and fashion magazines. It should not come as a surprise then that hardcore punk emerged from this filth to counter every stroke of eyeliner.
The Adolescents formed in 1980 and released their debut Adolescents in 1981, before disbanding later that year. The lineup that came to fruition to produce their debut united the talents of bassist Steve Soto, guitarists Rikk and Frank Agnew, drummer Casey Royer, and lead vocalist Tony Cadena. Rikk and Royer were from Social Distortion, while Soto was formerly a member of Agent Orange, giving the Adolescents a mature collection of established O.C. musicians.
Starting a punk band takes some effort, but sounding better than lawnmowers and wind chimes is another story. To really make waves, the punk band has to be talented, unique, and controversial. Not only do the Adolescents meet each criterion on their self-titled album, they exceed them. Adolescents satisfies hardcore punk traditionalists and modern punk enthusiasts alike because Rikk Agnew is a beast on guitar, the album transitions between the tame and uncontrollable flawlessly, and every song is worth talking about. Even the monotonous tracks on the album “Rip it Up” and “Who is Who” manage to deliver an addicting chorus at blistering paces to avoid being qualified as filler. Other seemingly typical rushed hardcore punk songs like “Self-Destruct” and “Word Attack” are phenomenal because they accelerate with concise imagery of youth and turn corners around ferocious beats. The album’s weakest link is that as a re-release, its inclusion of the final three songs from the Welcome to Reality EP lack the same spunk heard on the original thirteen.
Perhaps the greatest sequence of punk rock songs in history occur on the album with “Kids of the Black Hole,” “No Way,” and “Amoeba.” “Kids of the Black Hole” epitomizes the scene at the time in a sensational fashion, while its lyrics rival the phenomenal music. Tony Cadena sneers with a potent youthful sincerity in a moment recollecting,
The nights of birthdays
The nights of fry
The nights of endless drinking
The knights of violence
The knights of noise
The nights that had to end for good, still not understood, by the girls and boys.
Cadena and crew knew the phenomenon and were well aware of its half-life. To surround these words of wisdom, a skipping drum beat and popping guitar riff create a ticking time bomb. Rikk Agnew then arrives to penetrate the walls of noise with a short solo that provides for the songs’ climax. “No Way” begins with a perpetual pounding, before a seamless gear shift into a few creative licks by Agnew. A backup harmony provided by Steve, Rikk, and Frank, only emphasizes Cadena’s screams of “No Way!” Immediately after, “Amoeba” starts into a hypnotic chant of its title, a prelude to a song addressing the irony of the scientists’ work. Such a simple creature with so little awareness of its surrounding environment is prominent on the slides of microscopes and in the bedrooms of O.C. homes. Its undeniable catchy rhythm and “Amoeba” chant possesses enough strength to hook listeners, but a lasting solo by Agnew between chants completes the song.
Adolescents is hardcore punk that will never be heard by the stubborn, simple-minded guys and gals basking in the sun on Laguna beaches. It combats ignorance, narcissism, and materialism with intensity, symbolic of hardcore punk’s glory days and a landmark in punk rock. It belonged to the kids of the black hole, and it’s still a weapon against our oblivious society today.
(Review) 7/24/07
Release Year: 2004
Donning matching attire, the punk rock cover outfit Me First and the Gimme Gimmes butchers or exalts your favorite classic hits, based on your perspective. During Ruin Jonny’s Bar Mitzvah, the Gimmes invade Jewish territory and provide a punk rock twist to the celebration, marking the transition of a young boy into adulthood, as well as the Gimmes’ transition from a studio to live album. This collection of punk veterans features members of Lagwagon, NOFX, Swingin’ Utters, and formerly No Use for a Name; guitarist Joey Cape, drummer Dave Raun, bassist Fat Mike, lead vocalist Spike Slawson, and guitarist Chris Shiflett round out the talent of Me First and relay good humor between each other throughout their performance. On Ruin Jonny’s Bar Mitzvah, these superheroes of punk rock favor fun over finesse, clowning over class, but a sloppy record full of genuine happiness only makes the Gimmes that much more enjoyable.
Solid musicianship is abundant in the Gimmes’ lineup but on more than one occasion do the Gimmes depart from a refined sound. Though this is the charm of many live records, cover bands should be held to a slightly higher standard. Notes are missed frequently, songs are restarted, and songs end prematurely. Songs like “Stairway to Heaven” are maladjusted, removing from the essence of the originals but allowing the Gimmes to do nothing more than entertain.
So who are they covering this time around? Is there a theme to the album as on other Gimmes albums, such as Love Their Country, Are a Drag, or Blow in the Wind? Not really, but there is not an unfamiliar song on the album as the Gimmes chose hits across genres to ensure that no one was left out of the loop. With the benefit of accessible tunes, the Gimmes shine brightest on “Come Sail Away,” “The Longest Time,” and “Superstar.” As covers, these songs keep the intrinsic values of their original counterparts and provide an additional musical element that makes each song equally or even more enjoyable than the original. With solid covers, the Gimmes are able to stylishly attract listeners without losing any respect, holding the originals up to their classic standing.
The Gimmes are also known to begin songs with familiar punk rock hits, or to mask songs with the structure of others. On Ruin Jonny’s Bar Mitzvah, a listener will notice that “Hava Nagila” warps for a moment into The Offspring’s “Come Out and Play” and that “The Longest Time” recollects Stiff Little Fingers’ “Suspect Device.” The most noticeable introduction is on “Superstar,” made famous by The Carpenters, with the notorious bassline featured on the Adolescents’ legendary “Kids of the Black Hole.” These touches of punk rock go further than paying tribute to the bands and add a clever uniqueness to the material. Well, the entire album is clever uniqueness.
Ruin Jonny’s Bar Mitzvah adds such a unique element to the album that you feel like you’re at the party, wearing your finest shoes, and ordering your fifth drink from the bar. Or was it sixth? The point is that there is a very intimate environment created by that same sloppy approach mentioned earlier. Each track is either casually enjoyable or awful to the point of pure amusement. At one point in the record, Jonny comes out and plays drums for the Gimmes’ rendition of Sloop John B, making for a fitting end to this album filled with sentimental and playful moments. And if you purchase the album itself, you can enjoy the party visually thanks to the bonus material and share a few more drinks at the bar after hours.
(Review) 7/22/07
Release Year: 1988
Bill Stevenson, Stephen Edgerton, and Karl Alvarez are the trio of musicians that have represented the Descendents and ALL for about the last 20 years. Together they propel each pop-punk powerhouse, promoting females, fishing, food, and fun. They also enjoy coffee. They’ve teamed with vocalist Milo Aukerman, the face of the Descendents, since 1987 and have also worked with a few other vocalists since 1988 to create music in the name of ALL. On Allroy for Prez, released shortly after Milo’s second hiatus, the face of the Descendents was changed and mascot Allroy was born; he modified the look of Milo on the Descendents’ Milo Goes to College cover by removing his glasses (revealing spiraled eyes), taking off his tie, and spiking his hair. Though ALL’s image was now slightly different from the Descendents, they would never succeed to differentiate their sound. There have been very few complaints.
Allroy for Prez is an EP exclusively filled with love songs. It’s a damn fine one as well, featuring a novel chemistry between Stevenson, Edgerton, and Alvarez. ALL’s vocalist on the album is Dave Smalley; he’s the versatile frontman of punk bands DYS, Dag Nasty, and Down by Law, emerging in the album as a student of love. His voice strains and lacks confidence, almost unrecognizable when compared to his later work where he sounds like he has taken a few shots of whiskey before approaching the microphone. This innocence only helps the album as this student of love rebukes his former affairs. As for Smalley’s back-up, they get their own time in the spotlight with an instrumental (a trend on some ALL/Descendents albums) that sets up the end of the album. They jam as expected with Stevenson and Alvarez breaking down Edgerton’s heavy riffs, sounding much like the theme song to a zombie invasion of a skate park.
Perhaps with a different song arrangement (the instrumental Son-O-Qua would fit much better at the end of the album) Prez would be just perfect. Speaking of “Just Perfect,” the album opener is the only confidently optimistic song on the album, making Allroy for Prez a very bitter and hopeful release. The bitterness permeates Alvarez’s bass as it playfully bounces over Stevenson’s beats, with a serious grudge from Smalley who resentfully opens “Postage” with the lyric “I want to forget the day we met, and the way I felt inside.” Even with the closer “Daveage,” Smalley painfully remarks “Well count me out of your plans / and you know that hurts me, man…Well I just can't believe / the things you said to me today.” His indignant adolescent tone is condemning and shadows his heartbreak. Through all of the negative vibes conveyed on the album, the best song on the EP may be “Wishing Well,” where Smalley wonders how he’d change the world given wishes that came true. The chorus is driven by Stevenson’s drumrolls and Smalley’s innocuous shouts, giving a refreshing moment on the album that gives Allroy for Prez its luster.
At only 20 minutes, the album is easily digested if needed before taking a final run to the ex’s house to collect your things, or before gripping the insides of your pockets on your way to asking someone out for coffee. ALL is notorious for creating catchy pop-punk, and Allroy for Prez exemplifies their natural ability to entertain the hopeless romantics in us all, however bitter they may be.
(Review) 7/20/07
Release Year: 1997
Jake Jackson is the clean cut guitar talent in the legendary Foo Fighters and the punk cover band Me First and the Gimme Gimmes. His real name is Chris Shiflett, which has caused some confusion amongst listeners attempting to connect the dots in terms of No Use for a Name’s history. Shiflett used to play with No Use for a Name (NUFAN) and was on Making Friends, NUFAN’s fifth full-length album. Shiflett decided to join the Foo Fighters in 1999 soon after finishing NUFAN’s More Betterness!, only after contributing to two albums in NUFAN’s catalog. Though his time with NUFAN was short, he did much to evolve their sound and helped create their best material. They emerged from an early career filled with grainy guitars, rushed songs, and poor transitions, and could have easily been mistaken for a confused metal band or D.R.I. When Shiflett arrived, they matured quickly, and it’s noticeable on Making Friends.
The guitars on Making Friends are incredible because they’re dynamic, whether they replace silence with a short interlude as heard on “Secret,” or function by setting an entire tone for a song like “Growing Down” or “Sidewalk.” Though what truly makes them special is that they’re also the most interesting part of any NUFAN song. The drums are nauseatingly repetitive though drummer Rory Koff lacks no talent whatsoever. His beats are either slow or fast, they sound great, but they follow a similar pattern and do not cure a thirst for variety. I didn’t know NUFAN had a bassist until I read the album jacket. Bassist Matt Riddle’s role in the band is hardly noticeable other than his occasional vocal chime-in or when he plays behind a much higher pitch. Vocalist Tony Sly is a contender for “The Best Thing About No Use for a Name” and he’s a great one at that. He plays guitar, putting him at a disadvantage for this award. He’s one hell of a singer and is the distinguishable element of NUFAN, but his role on the album is secondary to what really helped this album succeed.
Making Friends works because it has many elements of pop-punk that are tried and true, but more so because their older self bleeds through many of their songs and adds an edge to what would otherwise be mediocre. It’s not a remarkably consistent album though many of the song themes flow into the next. The lack of consistency can be attributed to an exploration of style and overall rhythm, which is guitar driven, and results in an experimental side that takes from consistency what it gives to noticeable accessibility and catchiness.
Emotional pop-punk songs are a dime a dozen, but the memorable ones are those you keep going back to because they provide relevant messages to help you move forward in your life. Making Friends is full of memorable songs, like “The Answer is Still No,” “Invincible,” and “On the Outside.” Their lyrics contain resent and disappointment, but they do more than complain by addressing their problems in a larger scope which does even more for the listener. “The Answer is Still No” asks “Does anybody care?” at its conclusion, and repeats the question in a resigned manner. “On the Outside” moves on with Sly wondering but not regretting about what could have been, singing “I'm not gonna track you down and it's / too late to stop / thinking 'bout the time that we have lost / (I'm happy without you).” These songs have certainly connected with me above being very entertaining. The rest of the album does not trail far behind and increases a listener’s resilience to boredom based on pop-punk familiarity.
To date, NUFAN has achieved enough success and credibility to release a solid collection of greatest hits. Thanks to Shiflett, they became more than another pop-punk band, or another NOFX clone, or even a Pennywise. But when he left, they couldn’t elevate their game and make significant progress. That’s fine though, because his contributions put NUFAN over the top in terms of the ability to produce very listenable tunes with noticeable traces of their past self lending them a distinct and respectable sound.
(Review) 7/17/07
Release Year: 2006
For parents, hearing your newborn cry for the first time may qualify as the most magnificent moment in your life. From that moment on, you’re given a responsibility equal to the length of their lifetime. For those of us who have not had the benefit of witnessing childbirth firsthand, we are still very aware of the significance of life, its connotations, and the distinction between lifeless entities and organisms. The very essence of our awareness, consciousness, allows us to survey all that life has to offer. Then why, when I listen to Johann Johannsson’s IBM 1401, A User’s Manual, do I hear tones emitted from a primitive computer model that feel alive? Are not computers without consciousness? Where is Alan Turing when you need him?
Over thirty years ago, Johann Johannsson’s father Johann Gunnarsson used to make computers sing. Today, this Icelandic born son of the computer technician has made his mark in music as a producer, musician, and composer. Gunnarsson used the IBM 1401 machine (announced by IBM in 1959) in a non-traditional manner to demonstrate its incredible potential to communicate. It’s not near the level of HAL 9000 in the film 2001: A Space Odyssey, but in the scope of mankind, are we really that far away? A computer singing at that time is the infant form of HAL 9000’s rendition of “Daisy Bell” during his deconstruction. Johannsson takes a leap forward with his father’s brilliant idea by incorporating a sixty-piece string orchestra with the IBM 1401’s sounds (recorded by Gunnarsson) to convey the beauty surrounding the notion of computers and their assimilation into modern society. Johannsson sees the integration as inevitable (according to the text he released along with the album) and raises many questions through the music. The listener is left wondering about the possibility of a computer assuming consciousness and the future ethics necessary to handle the situation of computers demanding recognition in society.
The superimposition of this machine under violin, though considered ancient by today’s computational standards, is full of life in the moment. When the album begins, a repetitive drone created by the IBM 1401 simulates the first cries of life, heard with little fascination in the year 2007, though it certainly floored the engineers who heard it in the early 1960s. The amplitude is increased and the drone becomes more audible, before Johannsson brings in the violins to celebrate this moment of creation. The violins demonstrate the importance of this moment by producing an atmosphere that unleashes the glory present at the dawn of modern man. In the scope of mankind, the birth is the beginning to the rapidly expanding technological age that we are experiencing and accelerating daily.
It’s called A User’s Manual for a reason, and that reason is to instruct humans how to handle the situation of highly advanced artificial intelligence. A ding of a bell initiates monotone instructions for the IBM 1401 throughout the second track, simple maintenance operations for the preservation and proper handling of the device. Before long into the second track, the violins begin to echo the instructions and proceed to sing along with the 1401. The subtle instructions are the platform on which the string section launches an array of feelings and doubts surrounding the 1401. The arrays build and pages of information flutter outward as the 0s and 1s become more than numbers, but ideas and emotions. When this electronic expression is grounded, the monotone instructions fade into oblivion.
The rest of the album illustrates warmth and splendor through the evolution of the 1401 and its function as a starting point for artificial intelligence. It’s not bells and whistles, nor is it the annoying sound of dial-up internet, but deep hums, light rings, and electric screams that are abundant on IBM 1401, A User’s Manual. Also featured on the final piece is an undeniably mesmerizing song performed by the 1401, accompanied by the violin section as they present their case for acknowledgement.
So where will we be as a Western society in fifty years? A time when microprocessors can be found in household items, computers will function as the primary learning resource in our schools, and androids will have to lie down on conveyor belts during airport security check-ins (maybe). Will we be able to seamlessly adapt to the needs of machines as they near intelligence akin to our own? Will we be able to understand their feelings, if any? IBM 1401, A User’s Manual answers that the most significant adjustments we will have to make will need to be done in the name of preservation, fairness, and responsibility. After all, did we not give birth to this child?
(Review) 7/15/07
Re-Release Year: 1997
When Jack Grisham ran for Governor of California in 2003, most people wrote him off as a joke. It was not difficult to do so, considering the recall race included candidates that were actors, a porn star, a former baseball commissioner, and a sumo wrestler. This is the same Jack Grisham who in 1981 released a song as the leader of True Sounds of Liberty (more commonly T.S.O.L.) called “Abolish Government/Silent Majority.” If that was not enough, maybe another song off of that same self-titled album “Property is Theft” could work as a more convincing argument to dismiss this potential “contender.” Grisham later realized that the bull was too thick to cut through in politics and has decided to stick to making music. I support him.
T.S.O.L./Weathered Statues is a hybrid album with the latter half managing to be a much more talented yet less entertaining effort from a traditional hardcore standpoint. There is a distinct difference in the sound throughout every facet of T.S.O.L. and Grisham’s voice greatly matures over the course of the year that separates the two releases. The first half has Grisham crooning like an ignorant teenager. However, Grisham succeeds as a sarcastic and witty troublemaker, breaking silence along with his band mates saying, “America, land of the free, free to the power of the people in uniform.” "World War III" and "No Way Out" are also speed songs that hammer down blunt messages of resistance and life falling apart. They begin treading the line of a gothic hardcore band with their darkly unique sound (especially noticeable on “No Way Out”) and with their rushed delivery.
The subject matter of the songs on the first half is juvenile (T.S.O.L. no longer plays Property Is Theft due to its misguided communist messages) but manages to still sound great, though generic. Guitarist Ron Emery is known for his raunchy guitar lines on Code Blue, a famous T.S.O.L. release, and his efforts display a recognizable potential through his minimalist approach. Bassist Mike Roche has a very significant role in T.S.O.L. as his instrumentation is clear on every song and he provides introductions on “Property is Theft” and “World War III.” However, if it’s solid musicianship that you want, you’ll probably want to look further to the second half of the album.
A developed sound is not immediately recognizable with “Man and Machine,” but the next song “Weathered Statues” allows Grisham to carry his voice and haunt his listeners. He sounds sneaky and wise, darkly singing over a guitar that you could swear creates small screams from its vibrated strings. “Thoughts of Yesterday” creates a musical environment that appropriately shadows the lyric “All my friends have died or gone away, I live my life for thoughts of yesterday.” The music does not stay depressing as T.S.O.L. changes time signatures to sharpen the edge with which they can cut through the silence of any night. It’s not funeral music but it may fit your next cemetery romp.
When considering this work against their career, it functions primarily as a solid foundation on which to build. This isn’t T.S.O.L. at their best because the music is not too alluring, but they certainly are far from their worst due to their raw hardcore sound and an infant gothic influence. Fans of Dance with Me, T.S.O.L.’s notorious release containing the even more known “Code Blue” may be satisfied with this album because this is the closest they get to playing with the dead. For others, a first listen will yield a traditional approach to Southern California hardcore and an introduction to the demented mind of Jack Grisham. After listening you realize that the approach is great for music, but you probably wouldn’t consider voting for the guy.
(Review) 7/8/07
Release Year: 1977
Do you dance often? I hate dancing. I rarely get caught dancing in public, unless I’m under the influence of punk rock, where dancing is loosely interpreted. Older punk records usually go as far as getting my feet tapping, but rarely do they ever cause me to kick my chair from beneath me and twist my hips. I’ve been dancing lately, and it’s because of The Vibrators’ “Pure Mania.” Very similar to The Buzzcocks’ pop-punk flavor, The Vibrators display a mastery of hooks that would embarrass modern pop-punk bands if ever put to comparison with these punk rock veterans.
“Pure Mania” focuses on sex. What’s more important than girls? If you’re in the business of making albums, I’d recommend following The Vibrators’ formula of love ballads with ridiculously catchy beats and those British vocals that will make almost every girl swoon. Why not throw in a piano and organ behind a voice yearning “Baby, baby, baby, won’t you be my girl?” Make sure you have a decent crew of backup vocalists to match your chilling “Ooooooh’s,” designed to run up a girl’s spine. They need to be solid musicians as well to achieve a similar overlay of guitars that provide a spark on top of a throbbing bass. You can try, but you probably will get as far as succeeding as The Vibrators’ cover band. I doubt you can also match the relentless gear shifting vocals of Ian Carnochan, or “Knox,” as he is also known. His voice grinds and soothes, with recognizable resent and confidence, as he sorts through his love life. He is the ignition to The Vibrators’ aforementioned mastery of hooks and a vital supplement to the competent instrumentation that drives The Vibrators’ sound.
Once “Pure Mania” begins, you’re tapping. You’re fidgeting, you’re nodding, and you're mouthing the words. “Into the future! SEX KICK!” You sing along. Why? Because The Vibrators have your number. After the opener “Into the Future,” the corny but undeniably amusing “Yeah Yeah Yeah” begins with a repetitive line that you can only guess given what you just learned. It gets better. Whether it’s the pounding “No Heart,” with its deep vibrations and verbal accusations of “She ain’t got no heart and no love…gonna send her off to heaven with a .38,” or “Stiff Little Fingers,” with lyrics indicting the living dead, The Vibrators create music that is legendary.
There are many songs on “Pure Mania” that qualify as compelling. With the possible exception of “I Need a Slave,” every song on “Pure Mania” will draw you in with an addictive sound. What you should consider then is that the first 13 songs of the album are stellar, catchy, and raunchy doses of punk rock. The closer “Bad Time” does not disappoint, so you can add it to the list. It also helps immensely that the entire album clocks in at just over 30 minutes. If you’ve connected the dots, you probably understand that this all means you have something new to buy this week. That’s right, dancing shoes.
(Review) 6/24/07
Release Year: 2005
John Darnielle is a master of folk rock because he writes with a heart filled with memory and attention to detail, sings with earnest innocence, and plays the guitar to direct rather than accompany the music. Darnielle is The Mountain Goats. Before “The Sunset Tree,” his more poignant story was hardly stressed. “The Sunset Tree” is about your abusive childhood, your stereo offering refuge, and your challenge to the universe of your existence. Darnielle offers an audio autobiography to help sort through the madness, including his own distressed childhood with an abusive stepfather. His hopes and fears are told through the innocent eyes of a child, through the menacingly curious teeth of a teenager, and through the worn skin of a veteran of the game called life. “The Sunset Tree” flourishes and takes the listener to the frontiers of folk rock because with every intricate feature, another nail is uprooted from your insecure coffins thought shut for good.
Darnielle’s childhood was beaten into submission and fright by a stepfather who lived a lifetime too long. “The Sunset Tree” demonstrates that there was little sanctuary for Darnielle, but where he found his release he captured each day like it was his last and lived for moments that would one day be able to brighten the eyes on his grandchildren. The intensity of the album is aggravated by violins in a rage. On “Lion’s Teeth” and “Dilaudid,” Darnielle goes through dramatic metaphorical incidents that include emotional struggles with his stepfather and an urgency to live, respectively. “Lion’s Teeth” is the tense struggle in which Darnielle challenges the Lion by reaching into its mouth and gripping one of its teeth as he cares to “hold on for dear life” during his challenge of the Lion. “Dilaudid” stresses the intensity with a consistently deep violin tone sawing through the calm from the previous songs. He pleas over the construction “so kiss me with your mouth open / and take your foot off of the brake / for Christ’s sake.” Songs like “Dilaudid” occur throughout the album and place importance on realizing the magnificence of the escape from troubles that seem so stifling. It’s the escape that can only be felt during a long drive with your teenage girlfriend on a road unfamiliar or lying in her bedroom while you eye the clock on her dresser.
The juxtaposition of safety through music and the violence surrounding Darnielle’s childhood is conveyed remarkably through the cheery “Dance Music.” It is frighteningly cheery with light guitar strumming and piano but convincingly so because it is told through the eyes of a child who is more worried about losing their stereo to an angry outburst rather than the “strong and thick veined hand” as described on “Hast Thou Considered the Tetrapod.” The end of the album smoothes out the messages and stories Darnielle has made known. “Love Love Love” and “Pale Green Things” are serene moral tales. “Love...” ensures the listener that pursuits through love are the ones that are the most fulfilling and provide the most return. The closer “Pale Green Things” provides a fitting reminiscence of Darnielle’s father, now passed on. When you remember those close figures in life that treated you so badly, their deaths often bring upon a happier memory than your worst moments. It is a recognizable feeling that has the ability to hit very close to home.
“The Sunset Tree” does not tell the listener how to live but it demonstrates solace in apparently hopeless situations. Darnielle’s story can be absorbed with empathy in various ways, whether the listener has grown up experiencing an abusive childhood, or needs music to get through the next year or just the next five minutes. With the beauty of “The Sunset Tree” you’ll find equal refuge from chaos experienced today or during your impenetrable youth.
(Review) 6/19/07
Release Year: 1988
"Punx" not dead, right? It’s a tired argument started by individuals with too much time on their hands when they suggest “Punk is dead.” Many argue that punk died along with hardcore in ’84, but then again they have no idea what the hardcore scene meant to punk. Others will argue that punk simply faded away once people started throwing around the punk label. The truth is that punk is a constantly evolving beast, just like democracy and other questionable government systems. Bad Religion is a cornerstone of punk and a large part of punk’s evolution, given that they were a force in the hardcore scene and are now the model of success as the headlining band for the Warped Tour (for which they are hard to fault). Bad Religion has grown much *** to kiss.
“Suffer” was released in 1988, beginning an incredible four-albums-in-four-years production span that would include the release of “No Control,” “Against the Grain,” and “Generator.” “Suffer” essentially perfected the disorganized messages that typical punks spread during their youthful discontent. It is difficult to take punk seriously because of its liberal messages that stem from seemingly uneducated individuals, and even more difficult because the majority of its supporting audience is brash, crass, and often drunk. However, “Suffer” turns a laughable exhibition into an album carrying a distinguished concept with unrelenting dexterity. The music hits you so fast that you find yourself catching up, and when the words fall you scramble to make sense of their meaning. The music demands the listener to understand that the message cries “this is what we meant all along!” and forces one to finally give consideration to this thematic display of pent up rage and individualism. “Suffer” doesn’t just examine life, or love, or even corrupt politicians. It examines you and I while demonstrating punk’s importance in a society that could hardly give a damn.
It is not a secret that Bad Religion front man Greg Graffin is a very educated individual. His lyrics often call for the use of a dictionary, or to put one to good use, a friend pursuing an English major. Graffin puts English majors to the test from alpha to omega, with “1,000 More Fools” where Graffin voices his dissatisfaction with the world stating “the masses are obsequious / contented in their sleep /the vortex of their minds ensconced within / the murky deep.” However, it’s about much more than education. A frequent punk message is that society is blind and reveling in its own happiness like a pig in its sty. This theme is recurrent throughout the album. On “Best for You,” Graffin examines the perception of the individual with “judgments not tomorrow it's today / but no it isn't Jesus / take a look at all your peers / they're all looking down on you.” These sonic discussions go further and further ranging from topics of mankind’s futility and the irony of our existence that we will one day be merely fossils embedded in the Earth.
Though the lyrics can stand on their own, the reason they resonate so well is because of Graffin’s voice and the pattern by which Bad Religion designs their music. Graffin has one of the most accessible voices in punk rock and he never shows any sign of struggle in his singing. The apparent musical system that Bad Religion has developed in punk rock is often replicated and is a testament to the influence of Bad Religion. Their sound can be considered repetitive because their beats have little variation. Their music is guitar driven, including the occasional solo. Although there is an air of repetition, the music is concise, getting the point across swiftly and knowing when its work is done. Concise music in the punk rock universe usually means fast, raw, and energetic. Maybe this connotation derived from Bad Religion’s work, because they employ each component into their musical construction with tenacity.
“Suffer” means so much to punk because it forced punk to evolve in a sensible direction, contributing intelligence and elegance. It centralized frustrated emotions that had been brewing for over a decade. It showed that punk is dynamic, and made the question of punk’s life or death irrelevant. Most importantly, it told you that you were going to die, and you would just become another piece of unrecognized history. And when the next 13-year old comes along and listens to this album, we will see that’s why punk lives, and why it will continue to evolve.
(Review) 6/18/07
Release Year: 2006
Who is Warren anyway? Bracket has sprinkled their albums here and there with seemingly ambiguous tracks entitled Warren’s Song Pt. (1-26) for quite a while. The Warren’s Songs are always special odes, in some way capturing the depressing theme that has been an example of nerdy childhood classmate Warren Rake. After an unexpected departure from Fat Wreck Chords to join Takeover records, Bracket’s 2006 release “Requiem” is completely full of Warren’s Songs. I’m not overstating; each song on “Requiem” is entitled Warren’s Song, from parts 10 to 26. The songs are also scrambled because they are in chronological order rather than a more reasonable arrangement. This may seem absurd at first, but this is a concept album that has been in the works for five years. Albeit still seems absurd, through this madness Bracket manages to slowly justify a tiny bit of musical brilliance.
ANNOYING! I have yet to receive a response from an individual who did not mention that Bracket lead singer Marty Gregori’s voice is immensely annoying. His voice does not strain much, nor does he wail, but he sounds so nasal that it becomes difficult to listen to Bracket for more than one song. This is a serious setback for a band attempting to increase their fan base. To correct this, Bracket has done nothing. Marty still sings with the same voice, but he’s got the assistance of fine gentlemen in Angelo Celli and Zack Charlos, who bring along some harmonies for the road. This is where Bracket has had its most significant musical progression. Angelo and Zack are great supporters for Marty because they reduce the severity of the dose that Marty provides, and Marty isn’t so bad in small doses.
If it’s love songs you want, it’s love songs you got on “Requiem,” and they come around very often. The list includes lost love, love in waiting, love to come, loving love, etc. The tunes also have the merry theme of depression. The lyrics are actually very moving in some situations, and thanks to Bracket’s experience, they succeeded in conveying genuine emotion. From lyrics like “She hears my broken words / Confess my phobias to her / And her love is unwavering / Now unhappiness will have to wait” on Part 11, to “My yesterday was another lifeless day / And I write the saddest poetry when you're far away from me” on Part 12, Bracket can sweetly rhyme with reason on top of their rapid guitar hooks and drum beats.
The album is not the punk rock that music listeners would expect from Bracket, which is absolutely fine. Bracket has been experimenting and has transitioned into a comfort zone where they shed a recognizable punk skin and illustrate shades of pop while using independent rock weapons, like those damn synthesizers. It is the only sensible progression for the band because they were becoming very repetitive while dwelling in the punk scene. The pop shines through with the “doo-doo-doo’s” and the “ooh-ooh-ooh’s” that appear very often throughout the album, with Bracket apparently attempting to channel the Beach Boys. Lots of vocal harmonies also make for a pop impression of this once purely punk band. This initially comes across as off-putting, but when a song becomes too poppy, Bracket immediately swings into riffs and picks up the pace into a familiar sound of punk rock. The result is fascinating but can only do so much for a band that has yet to find their identity. This album is definitely a stepping stone but it seems that if it took five years to make a stepping stone for these veterans, it may be too late for a solid foundation.
(Review) 6/15/07
Release Year: 2006
The story behind this album could have been first read in a dramatic movie script, or on the wall of a bathroom stall. These stories often develop unheard until it’s too late. Suicide is the last resort plea that allows others to recognize how much one needed assistance in their toughest times. The late drummer of Bad Astronaut, Derrick Plourde, took his life in March of 2005 before the official release of “Twelve Steps, One Giant Disappointment,” to the shock of the punk community and those who knew of Derek. Once an experienced drummer and band mate of Lagwagon and Bad Astronaut frontman Joey Cape, Plourde’s actions reverberated through Cape, Plourde’s family and friends. Cape has since dedicated Lagwagon’s latest album “Resolve” to Plourde, and its content conveys the intense internal struggles that everyone has when a very close friend leaves them forever. Though Plourde had left Lagwagon, he was a member of Cape’s side project Bad Astronaut until his death. “Twelve Steps” is Derrick’s album, demonstrating Bad Astronaut’s finest song construction to date with frustration, desperation, and the haunting element of posthumous musicianship.
The musical progression of Bad Astronaut was obviously influenced by Plourde, but what is most distinct is Plourde’s drum work on the album. “Twelve Steps, One Giant Disappointment” includes Plourde’s compositions while crashing behind Cape’s urgent tone, often filled with denial or scorn. Cape questions and mourns throughout the entire album, “How am I supposed to feel? / I thought we had an agreement / and real or not, I believed it…and you wanted out / yeah you got out.” Later in “Twelve Steps,” a taste of a personal session between Cape and Plourde engages the listener to understand the scope of the album. It quickly becomes clear after a first listen how significant their relationship was.
Each song plays off of the mood of the last, with a deteriorating energy transitioning into a somber lament. To achieve this feel the album contains its collection of keyboard work and synthesizers to continue a listener’s adventure through Bad Astronauts’ space atmosphere, whether layered over a modest rock beat on “San Francisco Serenade” or a slowly timed acoustic guitar introduction on “Minus.” This distinguishable sound is perpetual, with Joey Cape’s naïve and boyish tone, ensuring the album’s originality and emotional authenticity. Unfortunately (yet appropriately), this is Bad Astronaut’s last album.
As a listener, you may feel as if you’re flipping through the pages of Plourde’s photo album, with each page interactively revealing his troubles and his triumphs. When it ends, the memories are lasting. The listener is not only able to sympathize with Cape, but go further and hear Plourde’s cries as well. And that’s what he wanted all along.
(Review) 5/2/07
Release Year: 1986
If there was an album to hear while sitting on the toilet, “Enjoy!” would certainly be my primary lavatory pick. You should not get the wrong idea right away. Most people probably would not want to listen to music while on the toilet and have already disregarded this notion. However, the Descendents’ “Enjoy!” is bathroom music at its finest, a pristine punk rock butt log that emerges as a great album because of its ridiculous humor and a well balanced selection of songs covering the fundamentals of ALL (the pursuit of women, food, fishing, coffee, and fun).
The Descendents are a necessity for any punk rocker’s music catalog because of their monumental releases like “Milo Goes to College,” “ALL,” and “I Don’t Want to Grow Up.” “Enjoy” is hardly mentioned as being one of the finest works by the Descendents, likely because of its lack of groundbreaking songs and its apparent lack of taste. It contains classic songs like “Sour Grapes” and “Cheer,” but there are not many other songs on the album that will surprise you with musical brilliance.
Musical brilliance is the last thing the Descendents need to show. The Descendents win over listeners because their sound is addicting and their musical concepts hit very close to home. “Enjoy!” is the first song on the album, defining the restroom humor with “I queefed, Enjoy! / Make the most of my butt-toast / Enjoy my good friends, Enjoy!” The first six songs on the album are decisively catchy at their best and immature at their worst. The song lengths are almost perfect and incredibly proportional to the quality of the music. The album takes a quick turn with “Orgofart,” a two-minute song containing flatulent vocals. The entertainment level of “Orgofart” is mind blowing. Once the fart parade turns around the corner, “Cheer” comes in and absolutely pummels pop-punk of today, demanding a position on “Somery,” the greatest hits album of the Descendents. “80s Girl” casually continues the Descendents’ romp over a creative peak and settles while characterizing the typical, brainless, Barbie Doll Southern California girl. The first nine songs are impressive to the point of a courtesy flush, as you will want to sit around longer to notice their lingering odor of talent and insistence of replay value.
The greatest fault of “Enjoy!” is that some of the songs are just not up to par. “Green” and “Days are Blood” are extremely difficult to tolerate because they are unnecessarily lengthy and their subject matter is very beside the apparent point of the album. They change the direction of the album very unexpectedly and could be appropriate in a different context. Together, “Green” and “Days are Blood” are angry and resentful, whereas the rest of the album focuses on good times for all. It is best described as an inconsistency that hurts the album in its interpretation. However, you should be able to look past this slip because the album does not seem to decompose until the last few songs.
Though I consider myself a huge fan of the Descendents, “Enjoy!” is not my favorite album. With its misdirected ending, “Enjoy!” falters but still reeks of great quality in the end. You can, however, find the most entertaining music that the Descendents created on this album, no matter how tasteless. If you’re a light-hearted fan of punk rock, then you might want to check this out soon, because Lord knows how long your next trip to the can may be.
(Review) 3/25/07
Release Year: 2001
I have never taken any drugs during my lifetime, and therefore have no idea how the effects of drugs feel. Given my living environment at a university, I often hear stories about the effects of drugs and formulate notions about the effects of drug use on the human body. When I listen to Spiritualized, I arrive as close to my understanding of drug use through their beautiful yet painful harmonies. This is because Spiritualized delivers euphoria during their explosive highs and a bittersweet pain when collapsing into cries for help. Their music simulates a drowning feeling as frontman Jason Pierce demonstrates his internal suffering with relationships, life, and God. “Let it Come Down” is an album fit for certain friends of mine, who spend their free evenings with various substances. However, the album goes beyond appropriateness for individuals under outside influences, as Spiritualized continue to convey the feeling of sweet downward spirals with remarkable accessibility.
Thundering horns that are fitting for signaling the entrance of a king on “I Didn’t Mean to Hurt You” seem at home between Pierce’s laments on “The Straight and the Narrow” and “Stop Your Crying.” Continuity is dynamic and fluid on “Let it Come Down,” which does not stop at flowing throbbing beats guided by blaring horns, but also includes repeated song lyrics that remind the listener of heartbreaking themes. During “Do It All Over Again,” Pierce sings “I love you like I love the sun in the morning.” Later in the album, during “I Didn’t Mean to Hurt You,” Pierce delivers the same lyric, and then adds “I miss you like I miss the water when I’m burning,” before professing his sincere regrets for hurting his loved one. “Let it Come Down” succeeds because it works well as an album, with great continuity and continuing to convey a theme of suffering through the sweetest unconventional means.
Relative to the earlier work of Spiritualized, like “Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space,” and “Lazer Guided Melodies,” Spiritualized creates a louder, more upbeat blast of energy through a collection of over 120 musicians. With their familiar horn and string sections and a new heavenly choir, Spiritualized develops a fresh sensation. It is as if Jason Pierce is standing at the gates of heaven, convincing St. Peter that he is not worthy of entrance, with the aid of angels whose trumpets and voices wisp around the gates’ bars. The composition of instruments allows for the listener to close their eyes and smile under the sinner’s spell, because they know that they also won’t get to heaven in the state that they’re in, but in a way they can accept.
The album is not without energetic moments, reminiscent of “Electricity” from “Ladies and Gentlemen…” with guitars aiming to send flickers of fire around the walls of your room. The opener “On Fire” consists of a piano introduction which sets the tone for the rest of the album, as the choir is presented, horns are envisioned rocking side to side in the hands of robed seraphim, and fuzzy effects skim over Pierce’s voice. Because of the fulfillment received after listening to “Let it Come Down,” one may believe that they really were dancing in heaven. You may not even need the drugs.
(Review) 3/3/07
Release Year: 2004
Bad Religion has certainly matured in an unprecedented direction. The persecuting lyrics of old have been toned down a notch to a level of examination. Still creating music on the foundation of anti-establishment politics and progressive social views, Bad Religion returns for their thirteenth full length album, “The Empire Strikes First,” with an explosive edge comparable to “Against the Grain.”
Greg Graffin is the centerpiece of the veteran punk band Bad Religion, normally writing lyrics with Brett Gurewitz regarding the futility of life. The most significant difference between “The Empire Strikes First” and previous albums is a direct assay of belief in God, as opposed to an attack of religion. Graffin recently released a book with co-author Professor Preston Jones, entitled “Is Belief in God Good, Bad or Irrelevant?” After listening to “The Empire Strikes First,” the book felt like an extension of the concise masterful lyrical work. A great consistency as a result of this progress is that Bad Religion develops a defining style on the album. This unique approach is a progression in the wisdom of the band, exposing a seemingly scientific inquiry of life, no doubt influenced by the experience of Graffin who holds a doctorate degree in Evolutionary Biology.
The vocal harmonies which are a trademark of Bad Religion’s juxtaposition of emotive cries and thought provoking lyrics are fluid in between the crashing drum beats made infamous on “Suffer.” Nearly every track during the first half of the album is explosive, while the second half of the album is exceptionally catchy. The clever lyrical content is showcased on “To Another Abyss.” With a haunting cry of “…and it chills me to the bone that I’m so far away from home,” superseding the brilliant “And you know that it’s a bitch when you learn to scratch that itch of blatant fallibility,” the song recognizes the insignificance of man. The song “God’s Love” also begs for an answer with “There’s no justice / Just a cause and no cure / And a bounty of suffering / It seems we all endure / And what I’m frightened of / Is that they call it “God’s love.” With clever lines and probing rhymes, Bad Religion goes beyond exemplifying an understanding of belief and attempts an evolution of punk rock.
When bands age they generally devolve in terms of losing the raw sound and edge that was present in their early years. They usually become conservative to satisfy larger audiences and as a result, cannot match the same spunk that gripped their original fans. The greatest bands are the ones that can recreate their sound and manifest any approach to their liking. Bad Religion’s music on “The Empire Strikes First” replaces the notion of getting old with an atmosphere of wisdom and the spunk needed to convince old and new fans alike that they aren’t dinosaurs. With complete control over their sound, Bad Religion sets the breakneck pace of “Sinister Rouge” between verses to remove any traces of dull instrumentation. Bad Religion lifts and drops the tempo and energy of each song at will, using their guitars as the fuel for the transitions. Brian Baker (Minor Threat, Dag Nasty, Government Issue and more) has a lot of experience in punk rock as he’s been playing the bass and guitar for over 20 years, providing the majority of the solos on the album. His work on “God’s Love” and “The Empire Strikes First” makes Bad Religion’s previous verses linger in the mind of the listener but go above being a subtlety in between Graffin’s familiar voice and Brooks Wackerman’s masterful beats.
Previous albums by Bad Religion, including “Recipe for Hate” and “No Control,” took direct shots at the concept of God, with songs like “Don’t Pray on Me” and the cynical and remarkable “Big Bang.” However, the specific change of approach that Bad Religion has decided upon is noticed clearly in songs like “All There Is” and “Live Again.” With “All There Is,” Graffin sings “In my rectory of doubt / I kneel to pray like one devout.” These lyrical territories are uncharted by Bad Religion, who are pursuing answers to seal the deal on the many questions raised by life. In “Live Again,” Graffin mentions the beliefs of the faithful with “Drunk with the assertions they know they can't defend / Confident that they might live again / Live again! Live again! Would you give it all up to live again?” Surely this question has been on Graffin’s mind for some time, as he attempts to understand what drives the faithful in an apparently hopeless endeavor.
Bad Religion’s efforts in the last quarter of the century have been the primary influence in punk rock. It is evident if you listen to many modern punk records, or if you ask a member of Pennywise. With “The Empire Strikes First,” Bad Religion goes beyond their formula and creates a new masterpiece to light a fire in the mind of the typical punk.
(Review) 3/3/07
Release Year: 1995
I lent my copy of The Vandals’ “Live Fast Diarrhea” to a swine who rode my bus when I was in the seventh grade. Given my apparent animosity toward the aforementioned jerk bag, you may have already figured out that he kept the copy of the album that I kindly lent him for a weekend. With my jewel case empty and temper flaring, I decided to track down the thief. Upon arrival to his surprisingly empty house, I questioned his neighbor who explained that the kid’s parents split up and he was moved out of town. I thought to myself, “Let the Bad Times Roll.”
For the next few weeks I became obsessed with The Vandals. I would arrive home after the school bus ride and play my ripped copy of “Live Fast Diarrhea.” I listened to the album primarily because it was fun, energetic, and very different from other punk bands that I was beginning to hear. Josh Freese, the drummer of The Vandals, is acclaimed for his independent work and work with other bands like DEVO, Nine Inch Nails, and most notably, A Perfect Circle. His drum work on the album shines much more than any of the other instrumentation, as well as overshadowing singer Dave Quackenbush’s unique vocals. The beats are of a large variety, rapid, and carry songs that can barely stand on their own because of their clumsy themes.
Being outrageously silly is what makes The Vandals so enjoyable, but some of their song topics are ridiculous. Songs about standing in line, returning an order at the local fast food joint because it is not up to par, and mustaches are not typical approaches to creating entertaining music. Punk music is fast, but when it is asinine it becomes very unattractive. However, the sincere approach that The Vandals take to entertaining their audience demonstrates that the music is about being nonsensical and having a good time acting a fool. I appreciated that perspective as a teenager in middle school and I still appreciate that perspective while in college. Also, the music for each of the ridiculous songs makes for a good listen regardless of the subject matter. That’s the allure of The Vandals, because they can play fast, cohesive, and amusing punk rock underneath comedic lyrics.
However, the Vandals contribute material to the album that is relevant to life with songs like “I Have a Date” and “Happy Birthday to Me.” “I Have a Date” is easily the best song on the album and qualifies as a punk classic. It is a definitive punk rock love song that traverses genre boundaries in terms of appreciation. My anticipation of my birthdays for the past six years has been enhanced because of hearing “Happy Birthday to Me.” These songs are incredible and add a lot of weight to making the album enjoyable. The “punk’d” out version of “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” is also a great track that will make even the hardest of punks smile (maybe). “Let the Bad Times Roll,” as I mentioned earlier, carries a theme of “no worries, be happy,” because life goes on. Not strikingly original, but conveyed uniquely through The Vandals’ punk prowess. After the first song, it quickly becomes evident that The Vandals are a happy punk band with a humorous and sometimes cynical edge.
“Live Fast Diarrhea” can be deemed ridiculous upon a first listen because of its absurd topics, but due to the attitude of The Vandals and their lighthearted approach to punk rock, the album provides for a very satisfying listen. I may even purchase the album once again.
(Review) 2/17/07
Release Year: 1997
When I sit down at my desk and pause for a moment to avoid my fluid dynamics work, I daydream about how wonderful life would be as an Astronaut. My dreams sit at the launch pad at the Kennedy Space Center. I envision myself flicking on a row of switches in quick succession. I feel the constraints of the space suit on my shoulders and the itch on the back of my thigh which I will not be able to scratch for hours until I have entered orbit.
When the daydreams hit in the afternoons, I know exactly what music to listen to as the soundtrack of my aspirations. “Ladies and Gentlemen We are Floating in Space” by Spiritualized is a horn-blaring, bass-thumping, vocal harmonizing work of art that I find absolutely fitting for the inside of a space station. However, the consequence of the mission for which I have been assigned will result in a personal loneliness, by leaving my wife and child behind. It is necessary for me to spend months in orbit as I will conduct decisive tasks for the benefits of others, though my sacrifices will slowly nibble away at my self-esteem. I will lament my sorrows but they will go unheard as I fall around the Earth alone.
Depression is the divisive element that Spiritualized conveys beautifully, with very poignant lyrics that could easily slip past an average listener’s attention due to subtle cries just above a whisper. The only consistent band member of Spiritualized, Jason Pierce, sings soft words of “Though I have a broken heart / I'm too busy to be heartbroken / There's a lot of things that need to be done / Lord I have a broken heart.” The song “Broken Heart” is a personal favorite of mine, due to its incorporation of an exquisite string section backed by high and low pitched horns. Pierce also mourns the condition of his heart on “Home of the Brave,” singing “I'm gonna rip it up / Tear it out / Gotta get it off of my soul / I don't even miss you / But that's 'cause I'm fuckedd up,” with a painful realization. The lyrics are not ground-breaking. However, they effortlessly flow with the music throughout the album when sung almost as sweet as the delightful strings vibrating in the background.
Spiritualized is different from most space rock in that it is much slower than bands like Failure and contains less noise than bands like Explosions in the Sky. Typical instruments are treated as supplements to Spiritualized, as they supplement rhythm with guitars and pound drums occasionally to set a relaxed tempo. Occasionally a song like “All of My Thoughts” or “Electricity” will spawn a vibrant and healthy change to the leisurely pace, including a coherent noise of horns, drums, guitars, and other effects. Overall the album works well as a charming piece of music covering song topics from love lost to tear drops. Given the magnificent harmonies, it seems that floating in space results in a bittersweet satisfaction only understandable by seminal duty in an expanse of emptiness or simply from a listen to this album.
(Review) 2/11/07
Release Year: 2002
Bad Religion is usually to blame for directing youth toward the punk rock scene. I remember when I brought home my copy of “Suffer,” with its album art containing a boy on fire with a cross through a cross on the back of his shirt. I was lectured by my parents and forced to return it back to the record store the next day. Of course, this only fueled my desire to listen to punk rock, and I ensured that my copies of “How Could Hell Be Any Worse?” and “Against the Grain” would remain untouched beneath my bed. When I eventually purchased “The Process of Belief,” the cover art was subtle, and easily made its way into my room. Turns out it was too subtle for my friends.
At the time of my purchase, the title track “Sorrow” had been playing consistently on the local radio station KROQ in Los Angeles. My friends, who listened to NOFX, The Adicts, and Clit .45, heard its slow (unacceptable!) melodies and immediately began their criticisms of how “not punk” the new Bad Religion album sounded. I immediately crumbled under their sneering and conservatively replaced “The Process of Belief” in my CD player with “Punk in Drublic.” However, today I realize that the single was not a completely accurate indicator of the entire album. Bad Religion has taken a much more educated approach to condemning a human race that constantly makes the same poor decisions that pervade our society. Though there is an unusually significant pop feel to “The Process of Belief,” it is certainly more punk than my friends could have ever imagined.
Did someone say fast songs and ferocious beats with provocative lyrics? That is usually a staple of Bad Religion, and they bring the quick instruction on the first three songs of the album, “Supersonic,” “Prove It,” and “Can’t Stop It.” The beginning of the album is excellent, as it develops a pace fit for a circle pit. However, the album changes pace too many times. From “Broken” to “Destined for Nothing,” the themes are relatively similar, with social struggle and our futile existence, but the music does not seem as fluid. “Broken” is much slower, feels like a ballad, and addresses different situations, whereas “Destined for Nothing” is angry and focused. Songs like “Materialist” and “Kyoto Now” have decent, catchy music with vocal harmonies, but the lyrics are not nearly as impressive as the rest of Bad Religion’s masterful works.
Although there are a few kinks in the album, there are catchy and relevant tracks that add to the album’s quality. “Sorrow” and “Epiphany” complement one another as slower pop-punk songs that work well as messages of the ignorance of man. The same can be said for “The Defense” and “The Lie,” as they can open ignorant eyes to the world’s madness, if it is not already apparent. The music is not a departure from Bad Religion’s common sound, and Greg Graffin’s vocals have slightly improved with age.
“The Process of Belief” is not Bad Religion at their best, but it is a worthwhile listen and does a suitable job of conveying Graffin’s concerns about the world. I’m the one who now criticizes my friends as they keep their narrow-minded opinions about Bad Religion. They will never concede that Bad Religion can function well as an evolved pop-punk presence, especially now that my mom enjoys the music.
(Review) 2/10/07
Release Year: 1994
When I began to listen to punk rock with albums like Lagwagon’s “Trashed,” I was fairly ignorant to its musical construction. The hole in my musical integrity is due to lack of experience with instruments like the guitar, the bass guitar, and the drums. I played violin for a number of years but that was not enough to now compare with my musically sophisticated peers. Luckily for me, there is not an excess of sophistication in the composition of punk rock, and I can provide a decent analysis for interpreting the music.
With Lagwagon, I listened to their music so much in grade school that I overlooked the musical intricacies on all of their albums, as well as the development of their skill. Now that I go back and listen to older albums, I appreciate the work that goes overlooked when you’re only searching for a song fitting for an aggravated mood. “Trashed,” Lagwagon’s second full-length album was a positive progression. Musically, guitarists Chris Flippin and Shawn Dewey complement each other significantly well on tracks like “Coffee and Cigarettes,” and “Know it All.” Their work is more noticeable than in the comparatively repetitive “Duh.” Bassist Jesse Buglione is also showcased on more than a few tracks, but more noticeably “Lazy” and “Rust,” where his bass lines actually warrant attention. The late drummer Derrick Plourde also provides definitive beats which have defined Lagwagon’s rhythm. Lyrically, “Trashed” is a huge leap from their debut “Duh,” because it tackles more socially relevant issues and contains much more serious topics in greater frequency.
Homosexuality. There’s one fragmented sentence that garners attention. During my first listen, my ignorant, pre-teen conservative ears were shocked to hear that the first song on “Trashed” contained a message that was supposed to be given serious thought. Unfortunately I was still an ignorant, pre-teen conservative and did not flex my views for quite a few years after. However, I feel that this was a breakthrough. Songs from “Duh,” like “Angry Days,” and “Of Mind and Matter,” are very interesting and fun to hear, but the bottom line is that they are simple. When I hear “No One” and “Dis’chords” on “Trashed,” I am convinced of their message by the apparent sincerity and the originality of the music. “Trashed” succeeds by being original and (more) thoughtful, whereas “Duh” succeeded by being immensely enjoyable.
“Trashed” is more aggressive than typical pop-punk, though common pop-punk topics such as love and personal issues are frequently examined in Lagwagon’s music. You basically get all of the satisfaction from the lyrics without any whining, which has been replaced by an edgy vocalist in Joey Cape and a rapid-paced group of punks. The album does lack continuity (a cover of Brown-Eyed Girl) but makes up for it with humor with songs like “Stokin’ the Neighbors,” and “Goin’ South.” Both songs are about life on the road or simply life with the band. The light hearted attitude makes the music even more enjoyable.
Lagwagon was fairly original then and they only got better. In comparison to their new release “Resolve,” it is evident how far they have come along. “Trashed” is an essential for any Lagwagon fan, if not a first listen to Lagwagon because it is very accessible.
(Review) 1/11/07
Release Year: 1984
The Subhumans (UK) are notorious for their placement on the backs of punk rock leather jackets worldwide. Their first album “The Day the Country Died” is widely regarded as a punk rock classic. However, the Subhumans rarely receive attention for their second LP masterpiece “From the Cradle to the Grave.” I blame its lack of popularity on the success of their first LP, its lack of accessibility (you have to look for this one), and a similarly titled film starring Jet Li and DMX. Though it is not too well known, it is very difficult for me to regard “From the Cradle to the Grave” as anything less than spectacular. The blueprint for this album details one side of the LP with nine crashing, haunting discharges of punk rock, with the second side containing an incredibly engaging 17-minute title track. As a whole, “From the Cradle to the Grave” is remarkable, and a must-have album for punks attempting to understand the origins of their ideologies and why a lot of their musical catalog sounds the same.
To say that this album brings out Dick Lucas’ cynical side is an understatement. You may even call his actions uncharacteristic in his attacks against the average, callow punk follower with “Waste of Breath.” Lucas’ vocals give an impression of a British, freestyle-rapping punk, who rhymes “You paint your leather jacket but it comes off in the rain/The more you cut your hair, the more it grows again…//It’s the story of your life/And the end of it’s your death/And everything that’s in between is just a waste of breath.” However, I find that his accusations against the common punk (that I am sure does not bother to affirm their beliefs beyond the music they listen to) were well placed and were designed primarily to educate rather than alienate. This is a common theme throughout the album, where Lucas vents anger – with the pessimistic “Rain” and the inescapable doubt surrounding “Where’s the Freedom?” and “Us Fish Must Swim Together” – but resolves that the problem is either inherent to the system in place or can be solved with sufficient effort.
Musically the album is a decent leap forward in the Subhumans’ prowess. For crying out loud, they begin the album with an instrumental, identified on the album’s packaging simply as a musical note. The first track does well to set the tone for an album that incorporates brief guitar solos and very dynamic drumming. They take risks. “Us Fish Must Swim Together” begins with a lingering guitar introduction fitting for bandaleros and vaqueros, before charging into repetitive guitar and melody much more appropriate for a punk description, tracing mankind’s evolution to its apparent inevitable destruction unless for possible intervention. The beginning of “Wake Up Screaming” immerses you into a nightmare with its dreary guitar effects and Lucas’ howls. Focusing on fitting the mood of each song seems to have been a high priority for the Subhumans on this album, as almost every chord seems to fall into place very well.
I mentioned the 17-minute title track, but not nearly in enough detail to convey how captivating and mesmerizing it is to give it a listen. The only similarities that can be drawn between this track and lengthy efforts by NOFX and Crass are that they exist in the scope of punk rock. The track is an impressive outline of life from birth to death, done with musical ingenuity and lyrical creativity. The musical stops on a dime, vilifying lyrics, and the harsh realization that so many individuals will blindly follow a governmental system perpetuated to abuse the common individual by making them nothing more than a tool in their shed are all vital components to this masterpiece. If you find it a tired theme, at least it does not imitate, but rather originates (with a release date of 1984) the widely held beliefs of the intelligent punk rocker.
Collectively, each side of the album works in a very cohesive manner, pervading many punk ideals and carrying a distinct musical style. I do not qualify the album as essential as “The Day the Country Died,” though I do strongly believe that a punk who professes their beliefs be very aware of this album. It is a lesson in punk rock as clear as crystal. You will likely be shocked that “From the Cradle to the Grave” has been a relative obscurity for so long, and surely will not regret its purchase.
(Review) 12/23/06
Release Year: 1989
Are you a fan of ALL? If the answer is no, it may be because you’ve never heard of ALL. Surely you’ve heard of the Descendents. ALL has been flying under the radar for quite some time now for no good reason. The Descendents have a well-known legacy in the punk rock world and have even laid foundations for pop-punk of today. ALL is only different from the Descendents in that they have different singers. Milo Aukerman is the front man for the Descendents and believe it or not the Descendents still maintain their energetic, catchy, and familiar sound with Scott Reynolds. Although the Descendents temporarily separated before I was born, ALL and I were conceived soon after. With the birth of ALL came their debut album “Allroy Sez” and then their second LP “Allroy’s Revenge.” Performing well in the shadow of the Descendents seems like an arduous task, but “Allroy’s Revenge” has proven to me that it is quite possible with more than adequate songwriting and an ALLular blast of energy.
When I first picked up this album I was extremely skeptical about how well ALL would sound, especially after hearing newer ALL and disliking the song topics and the way the band would rush through songs on “Problematic.” However, “Allroy’s Revenge” takes its time through songs and as a result has a more defined pop-punk feel while maintaining a punk attitude. The album does not carry any boring or musically-deficient tracks; perhaps the least tolerable track is the 43 second “Check One.” Tracks that stand out on the album also define this album, including “Scary Sad,” “She’s My Ex,” and “Mary.” These three songs all tell stories that carry the Descendents’ theme of girl problems, but the stories are new and still maintain their intended essence without becoming repetitive.
The album begins with what I consider the best instrumental track Edgerton, Alvarez, and Stevenson have ever done: “Gnutheme.” We roll quickly through “Fool,” a song about being completely in love to the point of foolishness, and “Check One,” a…fast life lesson. “Scary Sad” is likely the best song on the album, with Edgerton and Reynolds wailing guitar and vocal chords to create another catchy song to deal with a troubled girl, rivaling Descendents’ “Christmas Vacation.” “Man-O-Steel” is a riff about more than getting your life back on track, but being able to recover and be the best person you can be. “Box,” “Copping Z,” and “Hot Rod Lincoln” are all semi-serious jams about life in the fast lane, the slow lane, and skid row.
The album seems to change course at “She’s My Ex,” where one-liner jokes begin to disappear and are replaced by sincere emotions in the next four love songs. “She’s My Ex” begins the turnaround with a pop-punk masterpiece that tells of those notorious ex-girlfriends and their now irrelevant status compared to where they used to be in your life. Each song conveys different emotions. ALL delivers the dose of punk penicillin you require to knock some sense into your emotionally discharged self. From a relationship turned sour (Bubble Gum), to a girl who seems to have disappeared from your life (Carnage), or just one that you have no guts to talk to (Mary), ALL will satisfy your punk love desires. Personally, ALL’s “Mary” – about a guy being unable to speak up to a girl he’s been digging – always comes to mind when the words refuse to come to my mouth, “I'm not surprised this happens all the time / And my hand lights her cigarette inside my mind / And she's never seen me before.” ALL also takes a blast to the past with “No Traffic,” which tackles similar topics as the Descendents’ “My World,” but lacking the anger of “My World.” However, as with most of the tracks in this album, ALL supplants the infamous anger rant with a breath of fresh air. Reynolds sings “You could be standing and watching city lights / But where you'll be is where you'll be / And what you do is up to you.” Staying content and happy with your life while having a hell of a time is a theme in a lot of the Descendents’ tunes, and ALL does a fine job of continuing the same attitude and conveying their uplifting messages through punk rock.
Musically, almost everything on the album is what you would expect from the Descendents, and rightfully so. The Descendents play ALL songs when touring and vice versa, so their goal is not to develop a distinguishable sound, but to create enjoyable music with whoever happens to be singing. Lyrically this album is as dynamic as older Descendents songs because roughly half the album is constructed by Bill Stevenson who writes a good amount of the Descendents’ work. Scott Reynolds’ vocals are very impressive and are not a drastic transition from Milo. Scott can really carry a tune and he carries a lot of ALL songs very well like “No Traffic” and “Carnage.” His voice is edgy, not too rough, and is very similar to Milo’s. My primary concern with this album prior to my first listen was the vocals as Milo is my favorite punk icon to have ever gripped a microphone. Scott Reynolds actually exceeded my expectations and I now find him as my preferred ALL singer, above Chad Price and Dave Smalley. After searching for a while, the only shortcoming that stood out to me was that "Net" is very lengthy and contains a slightly annoying chorus if you just listen for the music and not the lyrics. Overall, "Allroy's Revenge" turns out very well and does not take any heavy bumps on the road toward an excellent punk album.
“Allroy’s Revenge” is silly at times (go figure) but transcends expectations with continuously entertaining and relevant songs to be considered a worthy listen. If you enjoy the Descendents or pop-punk in general, I give this album a full recommendation. If you have never heard of the Descendents, you’re in the wrong place reading the wrong album review. This music is as close to the Descendents as you’ll get, and musically, ALL is a trace of the evolution of the Descendents between “All” (the album) and “Everything Sucks.” If you do choose to give this album a listen, I would suggest hearing this album before any other ALL albums to appreciate how far along they have come and the great music they were putting out soon after the beginning of the Descendents’ hiatus. Enjoy!
