Republican Music Police
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
The Twenty Best Rock Songs Ever
#20 The Libetines - Time For Heroes:
The impetus for this list. Really, it's shocking that a non punk song from this recently could make the list, but the way they cut time throughout the song and bring it back with the drums, to the "Cherish you" part, to the truncheons, englishmen in baseball caps, and young lungs coughing up blood, it shouldn't come as much a surprise this is one of the best rock songs ever.
#19 The Smoking Popes - Megan
It took me about three months of listening to this song to figure out that he was singing a.) about a dead girlfriend, and b.) about trying to get run over by a train "to take [him] back to [her]". That just makes it more interesting...although a killer melody and a great descending chord progression would have made this song great even if it were about, say, grasshoppers, or tipping on four vogues.
#18 The Promise Ring - Scenes From Parisian Life
Even though it's not even two minutes long, the harmonies the chords play with themselves, the winding melody, and the unparalleled opening lines ("The sun comes out a little later/ so you can drink a little longer/ and I wish I had a dream last night/ so half the time you'd be here") show that a song need not be fully formed to be fully realized.
#17 Saves The Day - Jessie and My Whetstone
Might as well get all the emo out of the way right now, but this is really just pop-acoustic guitar and a very interesting and easily sympathetic story. Watching documentaries until morning, falling out of love and back in and back out and back in and counting all the headlights to make sure that you're all right.
#16 The Replacements - Kiss Me on the Bus
Perhaps the most exuberant exhortation for affection in pop history. "If you really knew how I felt/ you wouldn't act so adult/ hurry hurry, here comes our stop." For all my indiscretions in all too public places, on a bus has never been one of them. I think that bird has flown, alas. Westerburg, sing me home.
#15 Jeff Buckley - Last Goodbye
Do you suppose it's only by association that this song makes me think of London? I swear there's something in this song that is inherently about that dark, rainy city. Maybe it's just such a dark, rainy song. But that whole "Bell's at the church tower chime," makes me think only of St. Paul's. And the whole "Did you rush to the phone to call home," is another can of worms I don't want to get into. But that trembling vibrato that wails out the introduction to the last verse is showstopping. Showstopping.
#14 New Order - Let's Go (Nothing For Me)
What? Three notes, two chords? And they got ALL THIS out of it? One of the simplest great songs ever. So much fuck off in this song. The inimitable line "It didn't hurt me too much to find you were seeing someone else all of this time." Ultimate '80's cocaine-cool.
#13 Madonna - Like a Prayer
Can you imagine if Madonna had come up in the 90's after someone else had been Madonna. That is, what if Fiona Apple or Sarah MacLaughlin had written this song? Can you imagine how goddamned awesome it would be? But a good song is a good song even with the overblown production of 1980's mainstream pop.
#12 The Smiths - This Charming Man
One of the most danceable songs ever written about ambiguous sexual identity. I remember being drunk off my ass at Notting Hill Arts Club and how the whole place would just fucking explode when this song came on. "I would go out tonight...but I haven't got a stitch to wear. . . "
#11 Sunny Day Real Estate - Rodeo Jones
From the opening bass riff to the end wear Jeremy Enigk belts the motherfuck out of "So I wait/ for imagery/ waiting for someone/ blind / woe to my dreams/ my eyes were saved/ wait for me there." or whatever the fuck he sings, and finally just gets every single ounce of throat into the Rodeo Jones repeat at the end this song is an overdramatic, Shakespearean epic about...a space cowboy? I don't know what the fuck that means, but this was the last great song they'd ever make.
#10 The Zombies - She's Not There
There's a really shitty triphop cover of this song on the Kill Bill 2 soundtrack and I don't really know who performs it. But the subtlety of the original, slinky, mysterious, with a killer bassline and the best organ solo I've ever heard is what makes this such a damn good song.
#9 The Cure - Lovesong
I confess, I was at a shitty strip club and this song came on during a table dance and my whole was never quite the same. With one of the most haunting keyboard riffs I can think of, this song is all atmosphere, and cuts through the chaff on the almost ambient Disintegration.
#8 The Beach Boys - God Only Knows
Brian Wilson's voice is a little emasculating, but on this track he hits the exact notes he has to hit. The lyrics are completely affecting as well, something Wilson achieved throughout his career with surprising infrequency. "I may not always love you/ but as long as there are stars above you/ you'll never need to doubt it." The natural extension of album opener Wouldn't It Be Nice and a better song, too.
#7 Bob Dylan - Queen Jane,Approximately
Whether this is about Joan Baez doesn't really interest me. What makes this my favorite Bob Dylan song is the way the piano winds around one of his gravelliest vocal performances (which is saying a lot). The whole "I know better than you know, and you'll see that soon enough," thing that makes "Like a Rolling Stone" and "Positively 4th Street" so good is in full force here. Basically, a love song saying, "give it time; you'll come around, and I'll still be here."
#6 Jim Croce - Operator (That's Not the Way it Goes)
I have a theory that this song is about a guy who loses his girlfriend become of his cocaine habit ("give me the number if you can find it/ so I can call just to tell them I'm fine/ and to show/ I've overcome the blow"). Most likely I'm reading too much into it, and "the blow" is just his girlfriend running off with his "best old ex-friend Ray." Either way this is one of the saddest songs I can think of and the finger-picked arpeggios that line the rhythm don't hurt at all.
#5 The Velvet Underground - Sweet Jane
By far the coolest song by the coolest band imaginable.
#4 Buddy Holly - Everyday
You know you're a genius when all it takes is a set of drumsticks, a standup bass and a motherfucking xylophone to record one of the best songs of all time.
#3 Guns 'n' Roses - Rocket Queen
Besides all the rock and all the roll and all the everything, the way it switches from 80's metal to 50's doo-wop is something I can't even begin to fathom.
#2 Janis Joplin - Me and Bobby McGee
If Operator isn't the saddest song around, it'd be this one. The way her voice breaks on the "somewhere near Salinas, oh Lord, let him slip away" part is tragic. If Jeff Buckley has the best voice of any man, then Janis has the best voice period and this song is her magnum opus.
#1 Jawbreaker - West Bay Invitational
Fuck all of you. This is the best song of all time. That's all.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Keep in mind I wrote this while incredibly hungover
I already wrote about this album:
appetite
2. Bob Dylan - Highway 61 Revisited (1965)
The debate could go on for about forever: What’s Bob’s best opening track? Is it All I Really Wanna Do off Another Side of Bob Dylan? Is it the title track off The Times They Are A Changin? Is it Subterranean Homesick Blues off Bringing It All Back Home? Is it Hurricane off Desire? Most likely these undoubtedly great tracks are merely red herrings, calling attention from the two great album openers of all time, the two greatest in the entire genre of popular music - Tangled Up in Blue and Like a Rolling Stone. Give Rolling Stone the nod for the way it redefined pop music. For this, a track with a complex rhyme structure, puzzling storyline, and an organ that comes in JUST late, to chart as high as it did is mind boggling. This wasn’t the first electric album Dylan ever made (give that nod to Bringing It All Back Home) but it was the first time he really exploded off the vinyl (with apologies to the, sigh, chrysalic Subterranean). And the electric sound wasn’t the only thing perfected on Highway - as he began moving away from expository lyrics on Home towards the obtuse, he still had tendencies to bog the listener down in what’s not understood. On Highway, it’s all unapparent, an unapologetically so - that is, listening to this album is like having your ear against the door of some secret meeting of some secret people who understand some secret you never will.
Take, for instance, Ballad of a Thin Man, where Dylan sings to some third party (not US, how COULD it be?) “You know something’s happening here, but you don’t know what it is, do you Mr. Jones?” The implication is that the aforementioned Mr. Jones must be a royal moron not to know what’s happening. You would not likely want to face the same disdain but wait - what in the fuck is going on in the song? Dylan sings “You walk into the room/ With your pencil in your hand/ You see somebody naked and you say/ Who is that man?/ You (ha) try so hard, but you don’t understand/ Just what you will say when you get home.” Was there a time when you’d have to be a square to be as surprised as Mr. Jones? But this feeling of the outsider (by, ironically, being a part of mainstream society) is what the album accomplishes. Take Queen Jane Approximately, reportedly about Joan Baez’s disgust at Bob’s goodbye to the folk scene. The kiss-off of the song makes you feel like an eavesdropper, listening to a very private conversation, filled with inside jokes and outside references. But as good as Bob is when he’s saying confusing things, he’s even better when he’s saying very simple things, like on the spectacular It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry, where he sings wholeheartedly, “I wanna be your lover baby, I don’t wanna be your boss.”
Really, the only thing you could possibly take issue with on this album is how long Desolation Row is. Trim it to 6 or 7 minutes and this would be the most perfect piece of music ever recorded (though still not quite as good as Appetite)
3. Jawbreaker - 24 Hour Revenge Therapy (1993)
Read AMG’s review of this album and let it sink in how flippantly it’s praised. It’s compared to a goddamned episode of Melrose Place for chrissake. I would contend that this is the ultimate fulfillment of punk rock, and most people who have listened to this album, I mean, really listened, would be hard-pressed to argue, no matter how much they worship at the church of Joe Strummer or Joey Ramone or Paul Westerberg or Henry Rollins or Bob Mould or (sigh) Johnny Rotten. As many wrinkles as those artists had, and as much as those wrinkles were part of the ethic, Blake and Adam and Chris understand it all, I think. They combine everything good about punk rock and get it right for just one album.
What is most impressive about Jawbreaker is how ultimately literary Blake Schwarzenbach’s lyrics are, but how conscious he is not to let them undermine the music. Yes, Condition Oakland culminates in a 2 minute interlude punctuated by Kerouac quotes, but at the same time the band can rip off three chord screamers like Indictment, where he sings, quite wryly, “I just wrote the dumbest song/ It’s gonna be a sing along,” then goes on to say, “So crazy it just might work/ Then we’ll quit our jobs/ we could be the next group that you rob.” You almost are tempted to point out how self-fulfilling this was with the stink of Dear You still on his breath even 3 Jets To Brazil albums later. But then you realize they didn’t make too much money off that LP and you can’t even use context to bring the song down. Boxcar’s become a punk staple, with its chorus of “1,2,3,4 who’s punk what’s the score?” but most scenesters covering this song forget that Jawbreaker was a band that played in t-shirts and jeans with nary a mohawk among them.
What this album does best, however, is not in its self-referential ribbing. It’s in the endlessly dense metaphors and sincere storytelling. One of my favorite songs in the history of pop music (up there with Buddy Holly’s Rollercoaster and The Zombies’ She’s Not There, oddly), West Bay Invitational, tells the simple story of Blake and his friends throwing a party so he has an excuse to invite and hook up with a girl. As much as my friend Joe claims this is an excuse for intro to creative writing level prose, I contend that some of the lyrics are as amazing for their simplicity as for their earnestness. For instance, when Blake sings, “I bought a rose and suit with the pants pegged/ you said you smelled me twice today/ someone was passing out somewhere,” the devil is in the details. When he howls ever so breathlessly, “We kissed a shot of Kentucky straight/ I swore this life was worth the wait,” it’s one of the greater moments in pop music. The closing chorus is a stroke of genius too,conveying the desperation of the invitation by repeating, “we’re having a party, please come,” ad nauseum.
And this album is full of great moments like this. The track listing, like on After the Goldrush, reads like the album highlights list - Do You Still Hate Me, Ashtray Monument, Jinx Removing, Ache,Outpatient, Condition Oakland, and on and on. Nearly a 1.000 batting average. A phenomenal album. A sentimental favorite, if not as good as the other two ahead of it.
4. Radiohead - OK Computer (1997)
I just now realized I left The Bends off this list. I can deal with that. Really I can. The album is enjoyable but has its shortcomings. Not so for OK. Forget Nirvana, none of their albums defined their generations the way this one did. Am I overstating or revisionist historicizing? Perhaps, but what this album did was legitimatize alternative rock (and also signal its death). While Nevermind and the other grunge albums, along with Definitely Maybe, and a few other seminal 90’s albums, were critically lauded, they were looked at as interesting curiosities - as small wonderments that little teenagers who had heard the great rock stars could copy them (in Nirvana’s case, the Pixies and the Beatles, in Pearl Jam and Soundgarden’s case, Led Zeppelin, in STP’s case, Pearl Jam and Soundgarden, in Oasis’s case…well…) etc. etc. but never as great works of rock and roll judged on their own merit. Even Nirvana, who was seen as a great rock band, was always lauded for the fact that they defined the subsequent genre of music rather than their own individual accomplishments. But OK Computer immediately took its place among the great albums of all time.
I read an interview in Rolling Stone a long long time ago where one of Pearl Jam’s guitar player ( I forget if it was Stone Gossard or the other guy, McCready or whater?) railed against classic rock format radio stations, saying if they had any balls they’d start playing songs from this album and forego the 20 year buffer period generally accorded songs. Sure. As excessive as that statement seems, songs off OK Computer belong aside songs by (ugh) U2 and Zeppelin and for God’s sake The Beatles. Radiohead, despite being influenced stttttrongly by, among other bands, the Cure, the Pixies, Pink Floyd, and REM, you could never say Radiohead SOUNDS like any of them. Thank Thom Yorke’s incredibly unique vocal style for that. The best comparison you could make would be to say he sounds like a keyed down Freddie Mercury. Or in other words, Freddie Mercury without the self-parody. But it’s not quite fair to give Yorke all the credit - Johnny Greenwood’s guitar work is unlike most anyone’s in the music industry…David Gilmour without the manufactured sound, perhaps. Or in other words, David Gilmour without the self-parody. Nevertheless, I’m sick of talking about the ethos of all these fucking albums. Let’s talk about the songs.
Airbag has one of the best low-e string guitar riffs I’ve ever heard, putting Day Tripper and Whole Lotta Love to shame. Paranoid Android makes something useful out of Happiness is a Warm Gun and transcends the IDEA to become one of the most moving songs ever written about Gucci little piggies. Subterranean Homesick Alien is a subtle, virtuoso piece of songwriting. Exit Music makes something useful out of Baz Luhrman’s R&J, culminating in one of the most soaring pieces of vocal instrumentalization since, God, I can’t even think of anything to rival the “now we are one,” segment. We hope that you choke is one of the most ridiculous lines ever penned to sound as legitimate as it does. Let Down blends REM and emo somehow making it clear that these are two very separate distinctions. Karma Police is, gasp, a single that actually did something on the charts (go figure) despite talking about Hitler hairdos and buzzing like a fridge(whatever the fuck that means). Fitter Happier succeds extraordinarily well given the nature of the “song” (computer voice reading beat poetry while Greenwood’s guitar makes horrible horrible noises). Electioneering falters, but Climbing Up The Walls, No Surprises, and Lucky rescue the album in tremendous fashion. I might have wished for Lucky to end the album, or even No Surprises’ “Siiiiilent” to be the close, but you could do a lot worse than The Tourist.
This album got me through the wretched period of music that typified the late 90’s and early 00’s (which continues to this very day). For that, and for everything it does so goddamned well, it merits mention among the best records ever made.
5. Jeff Buckley - Grace (1994)
It is my opinion that Jeff Buckley has the best voice in pop music and this album has so many powerful songs that it carries whatever shortcomings it has along with it to the top 5.
Friday, April 21, 2006
almost
In many ways this album is what I think about when I think about London. I think you can trace all that to the movie sample that opens The Queen is Dead (Take Me Back to Dear Old Blighty) Medley. Pub songs, Buckingham Palace, alienation. I don’t know what could possibly sum up the city better. And particularly, what separates The Smiths from the thousands of imitators is all on this track - the fact that they took their pop songs and dressed them in punk rock. Or at least post punk rock. Everyone knows (or everyone SHOULD know) that Morrissey was the president of the New York Dolls fan club, as strange as it seems. Burying a lilting melody under dark lyrics and layers of feedback and rock drumming is what (I always thought) makes the lyricism and vocal style of Morrissey so palatable. Obviously that’s not the case - his solo work is saccharine and lacking instrumental bite but is no less credible - but it’s what makes this album so good.
What makes Morrissey so good is his ironic understanding. What I mean by that is that he understands that everything he says is going to sound alternately ridiculous and completely legitimate at the same time. Take, for instance, I Know it’s Over, one of the most morose songs on the album. “Mother, I can feel,” he sings, “the soil falling over my head.” This is self-pitying of the highest order. As in, the breakup song(sung to his mother, of all people) is obsessed with the morbid finality of it all. But can he possibly MEAN it? I would venture yes AND no, just like we all half mean it when we exaggerate. And he knows he’s exaggerating. Consider later in the song, those immortal lines, “If you’re so very good looking, then why are you on your own tonight? And if you’re so very entertaining, why are you on your own tonight? Because tonight is just like any other night.” What I have always thought about Morrissey lyrics, why they’re so appealing to the mopey criers, the teenage forearm slicers, the dressed in black bluebirds, is that the lyrics are temporal, that they have a sincerity in the context in which they are written, but performed with a backwards wink. The kind of sincerity you can’t fake, that makes Morrissey resonate so well comes from its excessiveness. I believe he ALLOWS himself to go overboard, past where most who would be concerned about enduring sincerity would allow themselves to go, BECAUSE he knows he doesn’t really mean it. Call it the incredible Hulk syndrome, if you follow my meaning.
But lyrical ethic aside, this is such an interesting album in every facet, from the skilled instrumentation and complicated metrics to the track arrangement (consider the masterstroke of ending with Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others instead of the previous coup de grace of There Is a Light That Never Goes Out.) to the allusive Cemetry Gates (complete with trademark Morrissey misspelling) to the hilarious backup vox on Bigmouth.. There’s so many apocryphal stories about this album. For instance, Marr’s claim that Bigmouth would be their “Rolling Stones” single as reason for releasing it in lieu of the seminal Light. Also, Morrissey claimed recently that he wanted the album to be produced by Bowie producer Tony Visconti, claiming it would have been twice the album that Queen is Dead ended up being. Given that Moz and Marr, going without Visconti, self-produced one of the great albums of all time, that’s a frightening thought.
7. Saves the Day - Through Being Cool (1999)
There will be many people who won’t believe me, but this IS in fact a great album. This is, in fact, a top 10 album. I don’t mean to be defensive coming out the gates like this, but of the seven people who are actually following this list, at least 6.89 will be annoyed by this pick, especially at number seven.
I don’t care.
If I had named Wire’s Pink Flag to the number seven spot, I very much doubt anyone would have made much of a fuss. And why? Because Wire specifically deigns not to sing about girls? But I like songs about girls and I like this album, and Wire’s Pink Flag did not make my top 10 nor did it make my top 100. This album epitomizes all that is good about contemporary punk music without doing any of the things that make contemporary punk music bad. I say this with the utmost sincerity. These songs are infinitely catchy, complexly structured (especially in regards to the chorus/verse delineation), and possess the same astute lyrical texture I admire in Morrissey.
Consider, for instance, the specificity and complexity that opens the album’s second track You Vandal. Singer Chris Conley addresses absence, singing, “Last night I dreamt you called from Costa Rica/ The place you’ve been the last two weeks/ said I miss you oh sweet boy/ won’t you come back down/ I woke up to my cold sheets and the smell of New Jersey.” At one point in a creative writing class, we discussed why song lyrics aren’t poetry. This is something that ought to be self-evident, but apparently merited discussion. Nevertheless, the grad student professor told us that she could prove it: any song lyric we thought was poetry, we should write it down and read it aloud, ignoring the melody. The idea was, we would see how ridiculous the lyrics are without the music to hold them up. I don’t claim Saves the Day’s lyrics are poetry (although, I suppose in the strictest sense of the term, they are)…not high art of any sort. But even separated from the music they make for decent prose. Better than most, to say the least. Conley is perceptive of slight idiosyncrasies, the same way Morrissey is, the same way people claim Ben Gibbard is. He’s also aware of the irony of sincerity. When he sings, in the album’s highlight track, Holly Hox Forget Me Not, “Somewhere under water, maybe you can find my heart/ that’s where I threw it after you had torn it out.” Forgive me if I am mistaken, but I can’t imagine even an hour after he wrote that he meant it. I think I’m not mistaken, as he has many lines that are even more self-aware than that. On the poorly titled Rocks Tonic Juice Magic, he sings, “All I can say tonight is I hate you/it would be all right/ if we could see each other some time?” To me, that exemplifies the Morrissey school of songwriting.
Of course, as usual, I discuss the lyrics first, but lyrics alone don’t make for a good album. In fact, they don’t do much at all if the music’s not there. You won’t see any John Prine or Leonard Cohen or Elliott Smith on this list, and the Silver Jews’ best album didn’t fare ALL that well. What makes this album so excellent is the music. Short, punchy and to the point, STD takes advantage of every opportunity for a hook. Many don’t like Chris Conley’s voice (or even his style of singing) but that’s a matter of taste. Much like with Bob Dylan or Modest Mouse, no one can convince anyone else beyond the vocal connection. Yes, Conley’s voice ranges in the upper octaves, and that can be a sometimes emasculating listening experience, but I find it complements the snarling guitars well. And of course, I’ve always been a sucker for emo.
8. Jedi Mind Tricks - Violent By Design (2000)
There are no real superlatives to be deployed in reference to JMT. Stoupe, despite being one of the most dynamic producers at the moment, would never be confused with being the BEST nor the most innovative (his whole style is directly derived from a duel parentage of Rza and Preemo). Vinnie Paz, despite having one of the better deliveries in rap, would never be confused with the best MC’s around, and in fact has regressed into a bizarre, homophobic, parody of himself. Jus Allah, who would leave the group soon after this album (probably because he hates white people, and Stoupe and Vinnie are more or less white) was never a tremendous lyricist or performer. No, Jedi Mind Tricks aren’t a super group, nor do they possess the talent or innovative qualities that made the previous artists mentioned on this list so legendary. No. All they ever did was release one of the most vicious, unrelenting, and infinitely quotable albums of all time.
Violent by Design is a battle rap album of sorts, full of punch lines directed at an unknown (nonexistent) third party, addressed in the second person. As in, “Jedi Mind, with the planetary we bombin’ this/ we stay one step above you like a pharmacist,” in I against I. Or “In the trenches of bomb, the paragon spawn/ Your bodies carried and dropped like surrogate moms,” in Sacrifice. Or “Divine purpose for the Remy that’s in my thermos/ Brain is evil, stick you with needles that’s hypodermic/ you heard the verdict/ I’m with Allah cuz he chose me/ Snuck into the Vatican and strangled the pope with his rosary.”
This album is calculated to be brutal and hard hitting, but above all, calculated to be offensive. I don’t want to get into the ethos of Lenny Bruce and Sam Kinison and George Carlin and Richard Pryor, but suffice to say that offensive is nearly always funny. What’s funniest about JMT is how serious Vinnie and Jus Allah sound when they spit. Or perhaps that ought to be unsettling. But the lines are just so damn funny you can’t help but think they must be meant as humor. After all, this is the group witty enough to pen the line “My peeps who walk the street with stolen heat like Prometheus.” I think my favorite passage comes from Vinnie Paz (aka Ikon the fucking Hologram) on the oddly named “Genghis Kahn” ( a close second is Jus Allah’s quick hit from The Deer Hunter - “You just like a bitch with no top on/ at the Houston 5[00]/ You lie down and get shot on”…get it?). Anyway - Vinnie’s punches:
“Yo I’m savage/ I write rhymes in pitch blackness/ any motherfucker who front is left capless/ y’all motherfuckers just burn into ashes/ trying to step into the zone where Vinnie Paz is/ is black Sabbath. Put a slug in his grill/ cuz Jedi Mind 2-5 thugs is for real/ you ever think there might be trouble, then peel/ cuz a motherfucker like me dumpin to kill/ and y’all better pass the mic cuz Vin’s ill/ y’all learned the “Facts of Life” from “Kim Fields”/ I don’t know how many kids my flow harm/ my gun control leave y’all with no arm/ y’all ever smell the stench from dead bodies?/ left in the path of the wrath of Kadahfi?/ 5’9” standin’ up mad stocky/ animal thugs who bust slugs in the lobby”
Everything that’s good (and bad) about JMT is in that verse - the internal rhymes, the multiple syllabics, the ridiculously over the top violence, the clever wordplay, etc. etc. etc. The fact is, this album is inevitably more quotable than the Wu-Tang Clan, and that’s one of the biggest musical accomplishments I can think of right now.
9. The Promise Ring - Nothing Feels Good (1997)
The thing about the Promise Ring is that Davey VonBohlen can’t really sing that good and the instrumentals aren’t all that complicated and the song structure actually tends to be infinitely repetitive. But that doesn’t change the fact that this is one of the most jubilant, enjoyable records I’ve ever heard. VonBohlen’s lyrics, while extremely poetic, are elusive and unrelenting, based mostly on wordplay. But he just sings it so much you can’t help but become imprisoned in them. Take for instance the opening track, Is This Thing On, which lyrically is mainly based around the fact that the word Delaware contains both the word “aware” and “air”, at least as homophones. “Delaware are you aware of the Air Supply,” it begins, “And Television, Delaware, are you aware, is this thing on?” One might consider the dichotomy of the band Air Supply and Television (and some reviewers have) but the fact is it doesn’t really matter. What does matter is the punchy guitars, the winding bassline, and incessant energy throughout the song. It continues that way for the entire first half of the album, which is something very refreshing - that this album literally has two halves. A throwback to the days of cassettes and LP, the album finally takes a breath after the wonderful Make Me a Chevy to open part two with the slow, instrumental How Nothing Feels (whose melody was, oddly, ripped off by At the Drive-In for the song Non-Zero Possibility)
And that’s another example of the wordplay VonBohlen’s obsessed with. Nothing Feels Good, the album title could mean one of two things: nothing at all feels good, a very eeeeeeemo idea, or that the concept of nothing feels good, a much more realistic possibility, given how the very little gravity of this album inevitably is so upbeat on the first half of the record. But the second half is decidedly less optimistic. The album’s title track is an achingly desperate acoustic number, drenched in malaise, but never really despondent. When Davey sings, “I don’t know Billy Ocean/ I don’t know the ocean floor/ I don’t go to college anymore,” we get the feeling he’s halfway between depression and resignation and acceptance. It’s not really a sad thing at all, and he doesn’t even really sing it all that sad. Likewise, Pink Chimneys is an upbeat number but one that repeats the sad thought, “where’s New England in my life/ it’s only cold when you sleep alone.” Stated positively, but no less suggestive of the sad fact of loneliness, it leaves a bittersweet. Likewise B is for Bethlehem’s dreamy romantic verses and reassuring chorus claim that “Jesus was a fisherman,” is undercut by the thought “I know He starts and finishes men, but I don’t know why.” There’s all kinds of profound thoughts in this song, “I’d die to stop the wind,” he claims, rather half-heartedly, “to leave the leaves, left leave and leave.” Thoughts like “Cried at the funeral because you can go anywhere,” raise the same ambiguity the album title does.
Most interesting though, is the album’s closer, Forget Me, which reassess, of all things, Sylvia Plath’s poem “Daddy,” recasting the line “I thought every German was you,” to reflect the way everything seems to remind you of the person you love. “All trees are roads,” Davey sings, “All birds are blue, Ach du! I thought everyone was you.” It sounds pretentious as hell, but really it’s just a lot of fun, just like the entire album. Because you don’t have to think about it too much if you don’t want to.
10. Neil Young - After the Goldrush (1970)
Although it slows down just the slightest bit towards the end (just like Buckets of Rain, I don’t really understand closing with Cripple Creek Fairy), there’s just so many flawless songs on this album: Tell Me Why, After the Goldrush, Only Love Can Break Your Heart, Southern Man, Till the Morning Comes, Don’t Let it Bring You Down, When You Dance You Can Really Love - the list of song highlights is basically the track listing. And beyond that, the highlights are among the best songs ever written. This is truly a great album.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
If Sylvia Plath’s Ariel was debatably the hallmark of the confessionalist movement in poetry, BOTT was the be all and end all of the selfsame movement in songwriting. This is completely odd for a man known for being cryptic and remote. Here, though, he finally gets personal, even when he’s speaking in the third person. And he speaks in the third person quite a bit.
The ultimate breakup record (Christ, am I writing for Cosmo or Rolling Stone?) BOTT is intimate while still mainting the cryptic and unremitting quality Bob built his career around before this. Although this album seems centered around his failed marriage with the infamous Sara, it’s impossible to really pin that down – the lyrics dance around an infinite amount of storylines that aren’t related. Even so, the lyrics possess the brilliance, or at the very least, the intelligence, that has come to define the man who redefined pop music. Has there ever been a more scathing song than Idiot Wind? It’s not just the lyrics (“There’s a lone soldier on the cross/ smoke pouring out of a boxcar door”) evoking heinous war crimes in relation to a failed relationship. It’s the way he sings it. “It was gravity that pulled us down/ and destiny that tore us apart./ You tamed the lion in my cage/ but it just wasn’t enough to change my heart.” How can you really possibly believe that, given the way he sings it? The album’s full of these parting shots. Hell, there’s even a song called “You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go,” which has one of my favorite parting passages: “Situations have ended sad/ Realationships have all been bad/ Mine have been like Verlaine’s and Rimbaud/ But there’s no way I could compare/ All those scenes to this affair/ You’re gonna make me lonesome when you go.”
But it’s not just the lyrics. The music is as melodic as Bob’s ever been and would ever be (with the exception of, perhaps, “One More Cup of Coffee”) Banal lyrics in songs like Meet Me in the Morning and You’re a Big Girl Now are saved by fantastically understated lead guitar work. And the chord changes in If You See Her Say Hello would be enough to break your heart. When you add the lyrics whatt you end up with is one of the most soul shattering songs of all time, if you’ll forgive me the potential hyperbole.
And you know what? I haven’t even mentioned Tangled Up in Blue which rivals Bob’s best opening tracks of all time, and he’s had some good ones. And of course it goes without saying that no one can really touch Bob when it comes to opening songs, unless you want to talk about Neil Young or Lou Reed or something, and I don’t particularly care to. I don’t care for Buckets of Rain, and that’s the way I choose to end the discussion of this album – with the same lack of prescience that Bob exercised in ending his album with that dull and cloying song.
12. Weezer – Pinkerton (1996)
I contemplated starting the discussion of the album in two distinct ways. First I considered telling about how I listened to this album yesterday in my car while I was delivering sandwiches, radio turned all the way up, all the windows open and all the associations thereof. Then I realized that’d be pretty solipsistic and potentially uninteresting. Instead I’ll go the other direction.
Basically, anyone whom I talk to extensively about music with (thank Jesus if you’re not among these people…believe me) know I’m crazy about track 1’s. As in, I love track 1’s to the point where my friend Matt calls me out on it all the fucking time. Whatever. What I’m trying to get around to saying is that Pinkerton, of all the albums I absolutely love, has by far (and I mean BY FAR) the shittiest track 1. That’s not to say Tired of Sex isn’t a decent song, that it doesn’t do anything well. I dig the chorus with its itinerary of girls getting “made”. And the solo’s kind of amusing in a butt-plug irony kind of way. But it’s not all that good song. And things don’t particularly pick up with Getchoo, which, although being kind of unfairly dogged, isn’t ALL that unique or interesting a song. It’s got kind of an interesting verse progression but the chorus is pretty bullshit. A pleasant song, but the point is that Pinkerton doesn’t start out with its best foot forward.
But never mind, because it doesn’t look back after those first two tracks. Explore the remainder of the tracklisting and there’s not a lagger among them. No Other One, Why Bother, Across the Sea, the Good Life, El Scorcho, Pink Triangle, Falling For You, and even Butterfly (which is appropriate for an album closer, if not world smashing). All these songs are so well-executed it’s very nearly frightening. The high note on “realiiiiiize” on El Scorcho has been, for me, one of the best vocal moments in rock music (along with the tremulous wail from Jeff Buckley’s Last Goodbye and Axl’s entire performance on Patience). And how is it possible that Pink Triangle could ring so true despite the fact that I am very quite certain I’ve never loved a lesbian.
I’m quite aware that my taste for this album might stem directly from nostalgia. But honestly, I don’t think that four billion people from my age bracket could possibly ALL be so clouded.
13. The Velvet Underrground – White Light/White Heat (1967)
The last VU album, I pointed out its 1968 release date in order to highlight how ahead of the curve they were. I could do the same with this album and it would likely have the same effect. But I think it’s also interesting to note that this album came out the same year as The Velvet Underground and Nico, an album I find interesting, if not particularly good. What this says to me is that in the months between January and November of 1967, The VU found fit to fire Nico (thank God), and completely change their focus to radical experimentalism. The pop sensibilities that hallmarked VU and Nico’s best moments (Sunday Morning, Heroin, Waiting for the Man) are still here but the experimentalism found on songs like Black Angel’s Death Song have become the rule here.
Besides Here She Comes Now, there’s not a moment’s respite from hard rock, distortion and experimentation. Consider how The Gift blurs the line between literature and rock and roll, begging the question of whether rock lyrics could possibly be considered high art (although Reed’s story isn’t particularly stirring prose – it’s the STORY that’s interesting). Also consider the modernism of this postmodernist exercise. In turning a rock song into the story of Waldo Jeffers, Reed and Cale are practically Eliotian in their dredging up of the dead ballad form and rekindling and reshaping its dark presence. Lady Godiva’s operation is another peculiar exercise, with Reed and Cale trading vocals in a way that doesn’t just change the tone, but nearly changes the song completely, with Cale’s soothing Welsh vocals setting one scene and Reed’s dark rasp setting another one. Then you have the trio of noise-rock – the title track, I Heard Her Call My Name, and Sister Ray all housing the caucophanous din of squealing guitars seemingly ambling to nowhere. The last song in particularly is exhausting in its 17:30 minute freeform workout, beating repetition, experimentation and feedback into the ground until it rises from its ashes like some sort of phoenix of some sort.
Could this album have been rated higher? Perhaps. I think this is appropriate for an album that is very very good, if a little short, but that possibly is most important for what it allowed subsequent artists to do. That is, there would likely be no indie rock, for better or for worse, without this album.
14. Wu-Tang Clan – Wu-Tang Forever (1997)
There are over 20 songs here. That’s why this is good. If it had 40 songs, it might be in the top 10. Triumph, Hellz Wind Staff, It’s Yourz, Dog Shit, The Projects, Little Ghetto Boys, Reunited, For Heavenz Sake, Deadly Melody, Impossible, Cash Still Rules (Scary Hours) Visionz – all these songs have meaning for you if you’ve heard the album. The samples are classic too:
“I despise your killing and raping. It’s just, you should be punished. I’m going to chop off your arm.”
I could listen to this album….forever.
15. The Rolling Stones – Exile on Main Street (1967)
What this album does better than Sticky Fingers is in what you don’t notice. There are similarities, of course. Even Rocks Off, the album opener, is reminiscent of Brown Sugar in the way its riff moves down from up. But it’s the things you don’t notice about Exile that make it so good. Like Brown Sugar, or other songs off Sticky Fingers, Rocks Off features a full band but the songwriting is pushed to the forefront. It’s the Stones, so they could never truly be SUBTLE…but it’s almost like they’ve HEARD of subtlety in the short year between Fingers and Exile.
And speaking of Rocks Off, what is it with dissatisfaction and rock music. I guess it shouldn’t be all that surprising from the band who couldn’t get no satis-faction, but “The sunshine bores the daylights out of me,” might be the best fuckoff line in rock music. Then you’ve got Let it Loose’s “I ain’t in luck, I ain’t in love,” and you can imagine the lineage all the way down to The Strokes. But I suppose Exile is so damned good, they might even be forgiven for that.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
next five albums
16. Nirvana – In Utero (1993)
Whether or not he was killed by Courtney <3> (he was)Kurt Cobain was not as dark as most would have you believe. Call it the Morrissey syndrome. Heaven knows he’s not THAT miserable, even now, six feet under. I bet Kurt’s smirking all the way down the Acheron. Because really, what Cobain really really was (not martyr, not spokesman for a generation, not nothing else) was a smartass. Which is why Nirvana is just that so that fucking damn good. Around the time this album came out Nirvana recorded a song called “I Hate Myself and I Want to Die.” Clearly an ominous song title given the events of 1994, but even so, the lyrics are as sardonic as can be: “runny nose and runny yolk/ even if you have a cold, still/ you can cough on me again/ I still haven’t had my full fill” Not only is the rhyme preposterous, but the Let it Bleed joke is unmistakable. Cf. to Kurt’s chorus of Verse Chorus Verse (one of the most cynical song titles in recent memory) of “We’re in a laundry room/ We’re in a in a laundry room.” This is not a tortured youth. . .well at least, not mostly. This is a stoner with his in jokes and middle finger up at the record industry, the status quo, even his fucking fans.
But enough about “Nirvana” the IDEAL and on to In Utero, which is one of the 20 best albums I own. This is an album by all means. Nevermind, as good as it was, was a plea for commercial attention. No, Nirvana probably didn’t have any stylists or makeup men, but they were poised by Geffen to sell a lot a lot of records with Nevermind and they probably were in on that scheme. Geffen certainly had similar plans for In Utero but Nirvana was clearly less concerned with lining their coffers than making a ripshit rock record. Hiring Steve Albini was step one. Turning volume up from the already loud Nevermind was step two. Writing a lot of really good really bitter really cynical songs was step three. Starting the album with Serve the Servants and its opening line “Teenage angst has paid off well/ now I’m bored and old,” could serve as the touchstone theme of the album. However, perhaps a less-quoted couplet might serve just as well: “I just wanted you to know/ I don’t hate you anymore/ There is nothing I can say/ I haven’t thought before.” This is an album of resignation, but a damned defiant one.
Everything you college kids (us college kids, I guess) think about dissatisfaction: that we can effect change, that things aren’t necessarily hopeless – Kurt and I don’t quite agree. But just because things aren’t likely to change doesn’t mean you can’t get something out of them. This album, forgive the overreaching, is an existentialist outburst. An ejaculation, if you will, of pure frustration. I hate to read too much into Kurt’s book report “Scentless Apprentice,” but his narrative as the outcast murderer from some damn French book begs the question of whether he is happy to function normally in a society in which fratboys were playing his songs loud as fuck out of the open window of their jeeps. You know, the same fratboys who were taking his lunch money 10 years earlier.
The album is full of this discontent. Heart Shaped Box (and forgive me this digression, but did anyone else cringe when Courtney Love said in an interview in Spin that this was her favorite Nirvana song b/c she “likes any song about her vagina”?) is one of the most fucked up love songs of all time. “Hey wait! I’ve got a new complaint!”? It beats the hell out of even “Go Your Own Way,” for dysfunction. Rape Me and Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on
What makes this album stand out over Nevermind, for me, is how it goes in so many different directions, how it never seems to find itself, and in that way, not in any other way, not a single other way, exemplifies the 1990’s. Kurt Cobain is dead. Long live Kurt Cobain, as some asshole once said. But it may be true. If Nirvana didn’t exist would we have been able to invent them? Or half the stuff that they made possible?
17.REM – Automatic For the People (1992)
The thing is, I’ll always say I don’t like something, and there’ll be an exception to prove me wrong. Like The Flaming Lips and Love countering my “I don’t like Psychedelia” thing. But nothing is more troubling than the fact that I love this album despite my complete disinterest in ambient music. Because this album is so buttfucking ambient it nearly makes me sick. But the other thing is that it’s so goddamned good, I can’t stop listening to it.
Starting with Drive, Stipe’s nonsense lyrics just begin to beat themselves into your head over and over again. What other song could be so successful with an orchestra, no chorus, and the lyrics “Ollie. Ollie. Ollie ollie ollie.”? I mean, I am honestly curious as to whether Stipe means anything by his lyrics. Clearly they came from somewhere, but I’ll be g-goddamned if I know what “smack, crack, shack-a-lack/ tie another one to your back/ baby,” means. I have to assume the “Hey kids/ rock and roll/ nobody tells you where to go,” line is an homage to David Essex’s “Rock On,” but I’ll be damned. And Peter Buck’s guitar tone continues to cover up his real lack of technical ability. But isn’t that always the way in rock and roll.
The album really starts to get interesting after Drive though. Try Not To Breathe is probably my favorite song on the album, which is a startling thing considering how many good songs are on the album. A song about, of all things, euthanasia, the melody, cadence, and guitar work make it such a large creation, greater than the sum of its parts could ever hope to be. “I will hold my breath,” Stipe says, “Until all these shivers subside.” Me too. Then Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight follows with a melody that masks perhaps the most ridiculous lyrics in rock and roll history. It’s not that they’re bad. It’s that it’s impossible to render a value judgment on lines like “this here is a place where I will stay here/ there isn’t a number you can call the payphone/ let it ring a long long long long time/ if I don’t pick up, hang up, call back, let it ring some more/ oh/ if I don’t pick up, pick up, the sidewinder sleep sleep sleeps in a coil.” An obvious ode to Lion Sleeps Tonight, it’s almost as if Stipe intends to approximate the nonsense lyrics of the previous songs with actual words. The end result is palpable, to say the least, and the musical and rhythmic structure is ingenious.
When you consider that just the hits alone (add Everybody Hurts, Man on the Moon, and Nightswimming to the mix) would make for a great album, and then add the fact that this LP is constructed to be a complete and wholly autonomous entity, this becomes an astonishing achievement for a band who previous (in my opinion) had not quite glimpsed greatness over SEVEN albums.
18.Elvis Costello – My Aim is True (1977)
One of the most indicative examples of Elvis Costello’s prodigious lyrical talent occurs in the very first line of the very first song on his very first LP. He opens Welcome to the Working Week singing, “Now that your picture’s in the paper being rhythmically admired/ You can have anyone that you have ever desired.” Even ignoring the ingenious euphemism that populates the first sentence, this is a scathing kiss off. The album is full of them. On Miracle Man there’s “I could say it was the nights that I was lonely/ and you were the only one who’d talk/ I could tell you that I like your sensitivity/ but you know it’s the way that you walk." Or on (The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes there’s “I said, ‘I’m so happy I could die’/ She said ‘Drop dead’ then left with another guy.” At one point my friend Mark and I had a discussion about who you feel more sorry for – the girl from this album or the girl from Blood on the Tracks. At least with Bob you get mercy. On Alison, Elvis all but threatens to kill his ex. For chrissakes!
Beyond the lyrical subject matter, this album’s got a lot of great music. Backed by the Clovers (who would later become the News of Huey Lewis and the News fame) it gave Elvis a roots rock sound he’d spurn later in favor of synth-based new wave. The pose on the cover of this album evokes Buddy Holly and the music is a worthy successor. Really, there’s so much good stuff here, from the winding lead guitar on Miracle Man, to the bluesy licks on Blame it on Cain, to the 1950’s shuffle of Mystery Dance and No Dancing, this is by far the most musically dynamic of his albums. People point to his later work for its innovations, but the ska is here on Less Than Zero, the lounge pop is here on Alison, the pop rock’s on Red Shoes, the soul is there on Working Week, the blues on Cain. It’s lacking the new wave, but who really liked new wave that much anyway?
19.The Libertines – Up the Bracket (2002)
I wrote an article about a month ago where I credited Pete Doherty with saving rock and roll and my appreciation for this album has only increased since then. I might, however amend my claim to say that Pete Doherty AND Carl Barat saved rock and roll. A standout in its pantheon of early aught’s garage rock (and among The “the”’s) Up the Bracket deserves mention among the best albums of all time. And will get it here.
Opening with the Stonesesque “Vertigo,” the album finds its niche early as a motherfucking fun album. One verse, one chorus, repeat the verse, repeat the chorus, all over a singular riff and dueling vocalists it ramps up the energy to a level that you just don’t think they can sustain. But it continues for five tracks, all the way to the acoustic “Radio
Much has been made about crack and heroin and Kate Moss, but all that was in the future beyond this album (although, of course, there are plenty drug references, including the album title) and all you have here, really, is unadulterated rock. If you want to envision the enfent terible Doherty and dysfunctional Barat when you hear this album, that’s your prerogative but none of that is audible. What is audible are some of the greatest lyrics this side of Morrissey. On Vertigo, Barat sings, “Rapture of vertigo/and letting go/ but me myself I was never sure/ was it liquor, or was it my soul,” evocatively complementing the chorus’s plea to “climb up on her window ledge/or you’ll forever be/ running under ladders while the people round you hear you shouting ‘please’”. On Time for Heroes Doherty sings of the “Stylish kids in the riot/ shoveled up like muck/ set the night on fire,” before hamming it up with “you know I cherish you my love,” an obvious reference to the Association’s soul-pop hit.
Produced by Mick Jones of CLASH fame (not of FOREIGNER) this album clearly knows its roots. Everything from the VU to the Clash to the Stones to even the Kinks to the brit punk of 80’s bands like The Jam are all clearly respected but never copied. Sure there are songs that might have been by the Clash. The title track clearly conjures up the ghost of Joe Strummer (who wasn’t actually dead yet, but never mind) but like Oasis before them, but much more cleverly, the Libertines succeed by building upon their heroes’ accomplishments, keeping a close mind on what works in their idols’ catalog and what doesn’t. Call it what you want, but this is an outstanding album.
20. Modest Mouse – The Lonesome Crowded West (1997)
Read this: The Lonesome Crowded West
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
well lookee here: will you all stop bitching now?
21. The Beastie Boys – Paul’s Boutique (1989)
Normally I’m not a huge fan of intros, and even on this, the 21st best album I own, I don’t much care for the introduction. I mean, it’s good in its own way, with lounge funk bassline framing MCA’s dedication of this album to all the various races of girls. But after a while, do we really need to hear “to the Southern Belles, to the Puerto Rican girls,” and so on and so on. Luckily it’s not all that long and without much delay we get the drum roll that kicks off “Shake Your Rump.” Really, this is a new sound of the Beastie Boys. Superlatives abound on this list, but I think it’s safe to say this is the most expounded upon album that you can’t name a single song off of without prompting. What the Dust Brothers did on this album is incredible, yes, and yes, this album could never be made again (just ask Danger Mouse) due to the excessive sampling fees that would come from sampling the When I’m 64, Mr. Big Stuff, Moby Dick and tons of other songs that only come to the forefront after a long long time listening.
This is relevant, yes. It’s relevant that the Beastie Boys changed their direction completely. It’s relevant that this marked a new era in which hip-hop would be taken seriously critically, when white artists COULD find respect in the art form, etc. But I’ve never been a big fan of “context” or “artistic importance”. What matters most to me about this album is how goddamned fun it is. It never slows down, from Shake Your Rump, to Eggman (a song about a fucking EGG FIGHT for chrissake) to Sounds of Science, which was like no rap song I’d ever heard, to Hey Ladies (a disco rap song???) to B-Boy Bouillabase which closes the album with a 12:33 medley about everything and anything and absolutely nothing at all. Who cares that they weren’t the best lyricists or even rappers…you don’t have to be all that talented to make a great hip-hop record – especially when the dust brothers are producing.
22. The Damned – Damned, Damned, Damned (1977)
The Damned did it first and did it best. Never mind the Sex Pistols, and I mean that sincerely. I mean, how can you listen to those singles: New Rose and Neat Neat Neat and not give them credit for the birth of punk? What was up with those Britons in the 70’s? But this is an album album – for instance, Fan Club and Born to Kill are about as good of underground album cuts as you’ll find. It’s a damned shame these guys don’t get the press that much worse bands with better management got.
23. The Clash – London Calling (1979)
And here’s the other side of the coin. “The only band that mattered,” may not be true, but they DESERVED the press they got. No, this album’s not perfect. It’s about 6 tracks too long, but the ones that are there – there’s a literal treasure trove of name recognition: The title track, Brand New Cadillac, Rudie Can’t Fail, Spanish Bombs, Death and Glory, Lost in the Supermarket, Guns of Brixton, Train in Vain – this isn’t a best of album. At one point you might have spent 5 quid on this LP and gotten all those songs so who cares if you had to sit through “The Right Profile” a couple odd times.
24. Television – Marquee Moon (1977)
I swear to God I didn’t plan for these three to be next to each other. If this had had more than 8 songs it would have easily passed The Clash and the Damned, if for no other reason than that Tom Verlaine spared us of having another seminal garage rock band with “The” in their name.
25. The Who – Tommy (1969)
Anyone who has seen Almost Famous should have a justified and righteous bias against this album from the get-go. It’s sort of like that stupid scene in Garden State where cavewoman tells David Schwimmer that the Shins will CHANGE HIS LIFE. Wha? Almost as bad as Cameron Crowe’s sister telling him that IF YOU LISTEN TO TOMMY WITH A CANDLE LIT YOU CAN SEE THE FUTURE. Too bad about that, because this is the best Pete did. It really is a very good album.
Never mind that paper thin storyline. That was never the point. I heard Pete just made the storyline to justify the song Pinball Wizard (written to kowtow to a British critic who reportedly loved pinball). That makes sense. But there are a shitload of great songs on this – the overture, 1921, Eyesight to the Blind, Acid Queen, Christmas, Cousin Kevin, Pinball Wizard, Go to the Mirror, Sally Simpson, and We’re Not Gonna Take It (not the Twisted Sister one)…And if you listen to it with a candle lit, all you can really see is tallow smoke but what you HEAR is a goddamned good album.
26. Built To Spill – There’s Nothing Wrong With Love (1994)
Dug Martsch can write a great pop song. When he stays away from thos sprawling guitar solos he can write a great album too. This is a great album. Besides the obvious tracks: Car, Big Dipper, In the Morning, Distopian Dream Girl, I think my favorite moment is on Twin Falls when he says of his grade-school girlfriend “Last I heard was she had twins or maybe it was three, although I didn’t see. That don’t bother me.” Absolutely heartbreaking.
27. The Beach Boys – Pet Sounds (1966)
Not nearly the masterpiece it’s claimed to be, Sloop John B., Wouldn’t it Be Nice, Caroline No, and I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times more than justify its place among the top albums ever.
28. The Violent Femmes – The Violent Femmes (1983)
Some of the catchiest, hardest rocking, smartest, most perceptive acoustic music ever to come out of the great city of Milwaukee. Fuck Steve Miller. And never mind the hits, which are awesome (blister, add it up, gone daddy gone, please do not go, and OF COURSE kiss off): listen to "gimme the car" and try not to just lose it. lol is approriate, so therefore BITE ME
29. Alkaline Trio – Goddamnit! (1998)
This is about as close to perfect as a punk-emo-pop-whatever album can get. Any way you try to tear down this type of music, Matt Skiba and Dan Andriano are much too smart. Look at the build up to the heartbreak in Clavicle where Skiba sings, “I gave you my phone number you gave me mine/ before I left I said ‘hey you can bet I’ll be bothering you soon’/ You said ‘no bother please do.’” These are real relationships, not the misogyny that punctuates most similar (and no less accomplished) songs.
And the boys can drink. In one of the best choruses of the “90’s, Skiba sings,
“So where are you/ my little needle/ the stack’s been burned away/ but I am so inebriated I/ cannot see/ three feet in front of me/ between the moon and you lunacy is setting in.”
I’ll drink to that.
30. Everclear – Sparkle and Fade (1995)
I listened to this album nearly 1000 times between 8th grade and 10th grade. I don't know what else I can really say in that respect. It's not the greatest album ever, no, but it beats the hell out of most of the crap that came out around its time. And it has a pretty good replay value. There's not a bad song in the bunch.
Monday, April 17, 2006
SOOOOO sorry for the delay...it's not as though I had OTHER things to do
In many ways this is the best "Rolling Stones" album – as in the seminal Rolling Stones album, the one that embodies what the Stones are all about – balls to the wall, very little pretense, a diverse range of styles and some of the most rocking songs they ever put down on wax. The thing about this album is it raises the question: can good rock be unoffensive? Isn’t it cutting straight to the core of rock and roll to say that it’s all about pissing people off. I feel like that’s a pretty defensible position. And this was the album that really pissed people off.
Opening with Brown Sugar is a bold move, in some ways. In some ways it’s a no brainer. That goddamned up down riff is one of the most famous in rock and roll. But then again, a song about slavemasters ( and Mick) loving their slaves replete with the “brown sugar, how come you taste so good…just like a black girl should?” It’s a good question, but could possibly have been raised more tactfully. Then you have Bitch and Can’t You Hear Me Knocking,. Which extols the virtues of “cocaine eyes,” among other things. It’s all good though. Honestly, what I like most about this album is how they mix styles up so flawlessly. You go back and forth between the R&B and Rock numbers to the slow jams of Sister Morphine, Wild Horses, and Sway, and even the country genius of Dead Flowers. If ever we were going to try to claim “the best band in rock and roll” we’d need to list this album among the prime evidence
32. Gza/Genius – Liquid Swords (1995)
Of all the first-wave Wu solo albums listed earlier this is the best. It’s not just the best, but it does everything the other albums do well best. It has better guest shots than Ironman. It carries the samurai theme better than Cuban Linx does the mafia theme. It's even a better lyrical showcase than Tical. Basically this album’s fucking dope. From the cover art, of Gza merkin’ mc’s on a chessboard to the chilling samples, the only thing this album does wrong is get the track listing fucked up, something that happens surprisingly frequently on Wu joints.
I can’t think of a Wu sample more famous than the one that opens Liquid Sword. That little Japanese kid talking about his father cutting off the heads of 131 lords makes its reappearance in Kill Bill vol. 2 and all I could think about was Rz and Gza jumping off with those infamous lines that light off Liquid Swords: "When the MC's came to live out their name/ and to perform some had/ to snort cocaine/to act insane/ before Pete Rock-ed it on/ with the mental flame/ to spark the brain/ with the building to be born/ yo Rza flip the track" jumping immediately into the sharpest lyrical darts since Rakim:
"Fake niggaz get flipped/ in mic fights I swing swords and cut clowns/ shit is too swift to bite you record and write it down/ I flow like the blood on a murder scene/ like a syringe on some wild-out shit to insert a fiend/ but it was you out the shop, stolen art/ catch a swollen heart from not rollin smart/ I put mad pressure on phony wack rhymes that get hurt/ that shit's played like zodiac signs on sweatshirt"
You get samurai lore mixed with b-boy grandstanding - it's the ultimate mixture of mc0ing with the texture the Wu-Tang made famous. And besides the incredible guest appearance s by Rza, Dec, Ghost, and even Killah Priest, Method Man comes down to drop one of the best PERFORMANCES, much less guest performances in Wu-Tang history on the ultramagnetic "Shadowboxing":
"I breaks ya down to the bone gristle/ ill speaking scud missle heat seeking/ johnny blazin'/ nightmares like wes craven/ niggas gunnin/ my third eye seen it comin'/ before it happened/ you know about these fucking staten/kids, we smashin/ everything - huh. in every shape form and fashion/ now everybody talkin bout it, laughin/ hmmmm/ is you bustin steel or is you flashin/ hmmm/talking out your asshole/ you should have known about the flow and peasy afro/ ticallion stallion/ chinky eyed snot nosed/ from my naps to the bunion on my big toe/ I keeps it movin'/ know just what the fuck I'm doin/ rap insomniac, fiend to catch a nigga snoozin/ slip to cardiac arrest me/ excorcist: hip hop possessed me/ crunch a nigga like a Nestle: YOU KNOW MY STEEZ"
much sampled, much quoted. And Gza comes hard on that track too, like he does on the entire albums. There's just too goddamned much to quote.
33. NaS - Illmatic (1994)
Generally recognized by most to be the best rap album of the 90's. I clearly don't agree. However, that doesn't diminish how good this album is. Production by Preemo, Q-Tip, Pete Rock and Large Professor made this the Black Album before the Black Album was the Black Album. The album begins with an intro that is superfluous, like every album intro ever, except for the fact that it includes a muted version of NaS's career-making verse from "Live at the Barbecue" wherein he claims "When I was 12, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus". That verse is not on Illmatic, but deserves mention nonetheless.
The album begins with "New York State of Mind" the most famous rap song most people have never heard of. Over a piano loop and a Rakim sample (passing the torch?) Nasty drops lines about coke trade, gunplay (piece gets jammed!) and insomnia. The ablum goes on from there, classic track by classic track, from Life's a Bitch featuring the verse that singlehandedly made Az tha Visualiza's career, to Halftime, which reminds us that most people owned this album on cassette, to One Time For Ya Mind, with its swing beat and trademark smooth flow ("I try to stay mellow/ but acapella rhymes/ will make me richer than a slipper made Cinderella, fella") to It Ain't Hard to Tell which might be the best track on the album, with it's "the rap game reminds me of the crack game" line that got so much mileage. Oh, and it's got that Dead Presidents line that Jigga ripped. This album is classic, if a little overrated.
34: Wu-Tang Clan - Enter the Wu-Tang(36 Chambers) (1994)
I don't think there's much to say about this album except that it's much too short.
35: The Velvet Underground - Velvet Underground (1968)
Can you believe this album came out in 1968? As in, this album came out before Led Zeppelin even dropped an album, before the Beatles broke up, before Let it Bleed, before oh God, before pretty much everything. It's not as much a phenomenon in that respect as their other two albums that came before it, but still...it bears mentioning. This was right after John Cale left the band and frankly, I couldn't care less. I was never much for experimenting for the sake of experimenting, and that's what he sometimes seemed like he was all about. But of course, then Lou had to put Murder Mystery on this album, kind of cutting my legs out from under me.
Anyway, this albums got all the really good pop songs the VU ever did, and of course since it's the VU they're just twisted enough to be really really interesting. For instance, Candy Says, the song Lou would rewrite about 800 times (Stephanie Says, Caroline Says II) is about as saccharine sweet a melody as you might find but consider that it's about a woman who's "come to hate [her] body". Then consider the fact that it's most likely about drag queen Candy Darling who hung out around Andy Warhol's factory in the 60's and it becomes a little bit twisted. Pale Blue Eyes is likewise charming in its dulcet melody, but is shockingly specific (She said, Money is like us in time,/It lies, but can't stand up/ down for you is up"). AMG claims Sterling Morrisson told Lou "If I wrote a song like that, I wouldn't make you play it." And he's right. "It was good what we did yesterday," Reed sings, "And I'd do it once again/ The fact that you are married/ only proves you're my best friend/ but it's truly truly a sin." Christ, and all over a melody Paul Simon might have written. Then you have Murder Mystery and the album just becomes such a fucked up ordeal of brilliance.
Jesus.
36. Notorious B.I.G. - Ready to Die (1994)
1994 must have been the best year ever if you were older than 11, which I was not. Everything but Cobain's death, and even that, as macabre as it must sound, was probably great in its own way. If you get my drift. And the way in which Cobain's death was great is the same way it's great to listen to Biggie. If you get my drift. But this album is just hype as crack-cocaine whether it's by Biggie or someone who wasn't martyred in a turf war. I said before I preferred Tupac in the G.O.A.T. debate, but clearly this album gets the nod over anything Pac dropped. It's funny how a rapper who didn't have the charisma or skill Pac did could drop an album so much better than anything Pac dropped. But at the same time, maybe it's just hunger. And forgive the cheap shot but if Biggie had ANYTHING it was hunger.
This album just rolls, beginning to end. Things Done Change jumps it off with one of the most famous lines Biggie ever dropped (besides of course that, "if the head right, biggie there e'r' night" line made famous by Nelly): "If I wasn't in the rap game/ I'd probably have a ki knee deep in the crack game/ cuz the streets is a short stop/ you're either slanging crack rock or you got a wicked jump shot." Whether or not Boiler Room was a good movie is besides the point. Biggie jumps out the gate showing off his flow. And on "Gimme the Loot," arguably the best song on the album, he shows off his slooooow flooooow. The album goes on and on with hot tracks (including yet another incredible guest shot by Method Man on "the What") including some bonafide classics like "Big Poppa" and "Warning," before settling into the chilling final track "Suicidal Thoughts." When Biggie hangs up the phone at the end to Diddy's protests we can't help get goosebumps. Is that because we know he's dead or is the song just that good? We'll never know, and in a way, I guess it doesn't really matter.
37. Richard Hell and the Voidoids - Blank Generation (1977)
He could not sing or play an instrument to save his life. But this is more punk than just about every album I've ever heard and the title track puts "Stray Cat Strut" to SHAME
38. The Replacements - Tim (1985)
My understanding is that if you live in Minneapolis and do not like the Mats you are summarily ostracized. That is how it ought to be nationwide
This is the album to get. Kiss Me on the Bus should be canonized, as should Swinging Party and I'll Buy. I like the rest of the songs, but to be quite honest they don't add up to all that much on their own. Those three songs, like the more numerous but less definitive Pentateuch of Ziggy Stardust are enough to merit classic status despite the languishing of the rest of the album (and yes, I am taking Bastards of Young) into consideration.
39. Jay-Z - The Blueprint (2001)
I refuse to talk about 9/11. All I'm going to say is that yes Jigga you made the top 40. No Jigga you did not top Illmatic and the fact that you have released more quality albums than NaS isn't going to change that.
40. Neil Young - Everybody Knows This is Nowhere (1969)
When I was like 10 or something I saw an infomercial for a 60's and 70's rock comp and it featured, among many many other songs, Cinnamon Girl. Really? Was there really a point where this was as big a hit as "Seasons in the Sun"? This really surprises me. I mean, it's certainly a catchy song, and it's not like it's my favorite song on the album, but jeez.
About this album - it's really good. The fact is, besides Cowgirl in the Sand's length, I don't know that I can say too much about it in criticism. It doesn't get me all that excited, especially compared to a certain other one of his album, but the title track is among my top 5 favorite Neil songs. Really, it is.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
41: Neutral Milk Hotel – In the Aeroplane Over the Sea (1998)
Did anyone hear that cover version of the title track from this album on the OC earlier this season? Some chick singing all melodramatic and slow and completely missing the point. Because, besides from the songcrafting and oft-hilariously offbeat lyrics (see King of Carrot Flowers pt. 2), what makes this album such an exceptional bastion of indie pop is the energy and self-assuredness with which Jeff Mangum carries through every single one of the songs on this album. What whoever covered the song doesn’t really understand is that, although the melody for Aeroplane is truly beautiful, lyrics like “one day we will die/ and our ashes will fly/ from the aeroplane over the sea/ but for now we are young/ let us lay in the sun/ and count every beautiful thing we can see/ love to be” don’t really fly without the manic nasal delivery Mangum lends to nearly every song.
The lady (I) doth protest too much, youthinks about my alleged disinterest in psychedelia after this album, Forever Changes, and Soft Bulletin all appeared within 15 spots of each other, rather high on this “countdown.” But I assure you: what I enjoy about this are the lucid things: the instrumentation, chord progressions, and brief moments of lyrical transcendence, as in King of Carrot Flowers pt 1 when Mangumn sings, “This is the room one afternoon I knew I could love you/ and from above you how I sank into your soul/ into that secret place where no one dares to go/ and your mom would drink until she was no longer speaking/ and dad would dream of all the different ways to die/ each one a little more than he could dare to try.” Or the entirety of
42: A Tribe Called Quest –
Man, you know a hip-hop album’s good when you even like the skits. And I even like the skits on Midnight Marauders. The computer-woman tour guide shtick gets me, and they keep it brief which is nice. It doesn’t hurt that it’s so wholly engrained in my mind with the tracks that surround them. Going from that chopped up computer voice to the horns that begin “Stir It Up (Steve Biko)” is as natural to me as breathing. Likewise with the hilarious, “In this case, we ma-raud to EARS” at the end of Award Tour to Phife Diddo’s hardluck 8 Million Stories. Prince Paul of De La Soul gets all the native tongue press for production but for my money Shaheed makes the better beats. Like all Tribe albums, this one gets a little long, but like all Tribe albums, you can always put it on and get drunk and nod your head for an hour no matter what’s on. And this contains the hugest Tribe songs.
It’s hard to explain the appeal of Tip and Phife as mc’s. I mean, on one level it’s easy – they both have unique and catchy voices and can work the mic. But the way they bounce around tracks is hard to top or quantify. I could transcribe some of Tip’s better work on this album but it wouldn’t jump off the page the way it jumps off the wax. For instance when he “drops it on the angle, acute at that/ do dat do dat do do dat dat dat” it doesn’t seem to be anything genius or when Phife says, in the same song, “back in ’89 I simply slid into place/ buddy buddy buddy all up in your face,” it doesn’t look like much but it blows the fuck out of your eardrums. When Eric B said “MC means Move the Crowd,” Tribe was definitely listening. My ass is shaking just THINKING about this album.
43: Raekwon (the Chef, featuring Ghostface Killah) – Only Built 4 Cuban Linx (1995)
Not that many people realize it, but C. Woods and D. Coles are responsible for gangsta rap the way we know it. Yeah, Kool G Rap was talking about mafioso themes back in the early 90’s, but Rae and Ghost pioneered “drug rap” talking about coke sells and painting a picture of life in NYC reminiscent of Deniro and Pacino movies. And fucking Rae and Ghost knew they had something. After all they dedicate a whole skit (Shark Niggaz [Bitaz]) to warning other mc’s not to “bite their style.” But then again, this was a common theme for the Wu – ODB with his “bite my style, I’ll bite your motherfuckin’ head,” to RZA’s intro to Forever where he talks shit about the whole industry, “we told y’all niggaz back on the fucking Cuban Linx album now everybody wants to change their name,” to rhymes in verses (“Once you heard Wu out of the blue your family’s from Shaolin,” or “half the east coast sounding just like Rae/ if you a gambino, give credit to the flow/ if you not in this shit, kid, act like you know”).
But even despite its undeniable impact (It’s hard to even imagine rappers like NaS or Jigga talking about flippin ki’s and hustlin’ without this album) this album justified its impact by being perhaps the most brilliant Wu solo album. Although the tracks hit sporadically it’s a laundry list of classic fucking Wu-bangers: “Knuckleheadz,” “Incarcerated Scarfaces,” “Guillotinez (Swordz),” “Ice Water”(featuring a classic ass verse from Cappadonna), “Verbal Intercourse” (featuring one of the best NaSty NaS verses known to man), “Ice Cream,” and “Wu Gambinos” which introduced the mafioso alter egos of the Clan that have almost supplanted their rap names (like Tony Starks and Johnny Blaze). All the while, Rza orchestrates a Godfather quality string theme that ties the entire album into the mood. This is what used to make Wu solo’s so great – they were so wound tightly around their theme that they became period pieces. If only rap (and Rza) hadn’t forgotten how fucking hype that can be. “Like a 27-inch Zenith: BELIEVE IT”
44: Weezer – Weezer (Blue Album) (1994)
What can one really say about this album? If you were a kid in the 90’s this album is so firmly engrained in your brain that there’s no getting it out. Hell, even the clunkers on this album are alt-pop classics. And is there any way to overstate the cultural significance this record had? Almost everything on the alt-rock scene today is a pale shadow of Weezer (including Weezer themself). We wouldn’t have the emo movement (for better or for worse) without Weezer. Nor would Hot Topic be in business, most likely. And those fucking glasses!
But enough BAD things about this record. Honestly though, this album, although hardly a great album, had so many good songs, it opened new doors to what an alt-rock album could be. I read an interview with Rivers where he said he’d figured out a mathematical formula to writing perfect pop songs. He was dead serious when he said it (from what I could infer from the article). Obviously this interview was from the Green Album time period, but if he had said it around the Blue Album, I might have believed it. Weezer doesn’t do anything fancy on this record, just churns out 10 songs of about 3 minutes each that are instantly memorable and enduring. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE who owns this album could probably instantly rank the 10 songs and every list would probably be different (with the possible exception that “Holiday”, “Surfwax”, and “In the Garage” would round out the bottom 3) and each person would feel so completely strongly about their list’s ordering that discussion would be fruitless. Honestly, I feel as if it’s superfluous to even talk about songs like, “Say it Ain’t So”, “No One Else”, or “Only in Dreams,” or the b-sides from this era, like “Jamie,” “Suzanne” and “You Gave Your Love to Me Softly.” This album is canonical and its low ranking is only testament to the quality of the albums above it on the list.
45: Nirvana – Nevermind (1991)
Goddamn that baby’s dick. It’s like a solar eclipse – you know you ought not look but nevertheless. . .
Sorry. It’s just that with all the ridiculous claims that have been made about this album, I figured it be better to start this with an inane banality. But let’s talk about some of the bizarre statements about this album. It defined a generation. It killed hair metal. It birthed an entire genre of music. I don’t think a single one of these is true. Each one is close to being true but is not true. However the most ridiculous and bloated and overblown statement I’ve ever heard about this album was in Pitchfork’s top 100 albums of the 90’s list (which has since been taken down, probably because of their embarrassing embarrassment at not having included enough rap albums on the original list, resulting in a second list which gave way too much concession to rap albums). Whoever said it (I certainly can’t go check it, since it doesn’t exist, which brings up interesting postmodern implications about the “reality” of online writing given its almost Babylonian temporality) claimed that (and I paraphrase) “as good as the first half is, the second half might be better.” BUHSQUEEZE me? You have got to be joking. How left of center. How road less traveled.
In case you’re not familiar with the tracklisting of Nevermind (for shame!) the first six tracks are Smells Like Teen Spirit, In Bloom, Come As You Are, Breed, Lithium, and Polly. Heard of any of those. Don’t get me wrong: the second half is very strong as well, and if you know me pretty well, you’d know that Drain You’s probably my favorite Nirvana song. But how can you in any good conscience say any six tracks, particularly the six tracks that round out this album, are better than the hallowed six I just mentioned? Fuck, you probably know every single goddamned word to at least 4 of them, including the mumbling stumbling of Smells Like Teen Sprit (an albino? a mosquito? WHOSE libido?)
Nevertheless, this album deserves all its accolades (even if they are overblown as fuck) but with this caveat: like all “influential” albums (with the exception of the VU’s) this album was great, but for the very reason of how it allowed future bands to build and experiment and improve upon it.
46: UGK – Dirty Money (2001)
Do I really want them to free Pimp C? This is me at my most morbid. Would anyone give a shit about Nick Drake if he hadn’t died? I know people would probably give a shit about Buckley if he hadn’t died, but he sure wouldn’t be a legend (a statement I’m certainly going to regret having made). Cobain, Tupac and Biggie probably would have each put out a string of mediocre albums that tainted their legacy if any of their posthumous singles are evidence.
So what will happen when Pimp C gets out? How can they top this record? This record exemplified everything about the dirty third, without question. Songs about syrup, chopping on blizz, pimpin’, sellin’, turnin’ hoes out. The thing is, what southern lyricists are championed for is is not taking their lyrics too seriously, and certainly Pimp C exemplifies that ideal, but Bun-B can go toe to toe with any “thinking man’s” MC. Think about his verse in “Ain’t That A Bitch,” where he ref’s Chuck D’s classic “Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos,” saying, “I got a letter from the government/ the other day/ I opened and read it/ it said ‘FUCK UGK’” or on Chopping Blades where he quips “when I turn my knock up/ and banging my block up/ without picking my glock up /I’m raising my stock up/ I got haters on lock up/ where they slanging rock up/ and banging makaveli 7 – cranking my pac up”.
But Pimp C holds his own as well. You don’t have to be a lyrical genius to rock a mic. And C ain’t too bad. Some of his shit is laugh out loud funny. He takes his turn on Chopping Blades to say “I’m deep up in the streets/ I’m trying to feel my nuts/ and later on I’m a try to skeet it on her butt.” Huh? I beg your pardon?
God I love this album.
47: The Cure – Disintegration (1989)
“Disintegration is the best album ever.” This quote was said to Robert Smith by none other than Stan Marsh of
What’s nice about this album (and at the same time, what keeps it from being higher on this list) is how well it fades into the background. Yeah, all the songs I mentioned are really pretty cool and they all work really well as singles, but this album is just so atmospheric. I mean, they had to trim like three minutes of pap off Pictures of You just to make it a single. This works and it doesn’t. When I’m in the mood for atmosphere very little can beat this. Certainly not Death Cab.
48: Pavement – Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain (1994)
What kind of asshole names their band Pavement? And an American band no less. It’s almost as annoying as when Interpol dropped that “Pavements they are a mess” line in New York Cares. I hate pretentiousness, even if it’s being pretentious in that “throw it to the wall and see if it sticks and it’ll be art and if you say it’s not you’re just unrefined” way that Pavement pulls off so well. Unfashionable cardigans become fashionable, art-house videos become wacky genius, etc. etc. Slacker rock, I guess, before it was even cool to be a slacker. And rock and roll has always been about being cool.
That said, Crooked Rain is a really cool album. This was allegedly going to make Pavement into mainstream stars ( I was only eleven. I’m going off what I’ve read) and almost did because of the undeniable catchiness of “Cut Your Hair.” For indie rockers, I imagine this was a coup over modern rock radio the likes of “She Don’t Use Jelly”. And really, like “Jelly”, “Cut Your Hair” manages to both elevate Pavement’s appeal while staying true to the things that made them likeable in the first place. This album is decidedly poppy, but maintains the esoteric charm that Slanted and Enchanted did so well (n.b. Slanted and Enchanted is not that great an album. This is a topic for another discussion). The pop comes naturally, surprisingly, even the lifting of a Buddy Holly melody as a starting point for the entire album on Silence Kit doesn’t seem false or manufactured (and is a lot cooler than their pirating of Jim Croce on Trigger Cut). And you still get the offbeat references in songs like Range Life, like calling STP elegeant bachelors, marveling at how damn foxy they are. This album more than makes up for how overrated Slanted and Enchanted is, balancing out the forces like Darth Vader or something (however that movie went).
49: Beck – Odelay (1996)
Man can Beck dance. I don’t know if I even understand his moves, but he’s one funky guy. This album is also funky. I don’t know that I really like funk but this album’s funky and that’s a good thing, so perhaps I like funk. The logic must be off though, because I’m fairly sure I don’t like funk. Nevertheless.
Even if you just took the singles and filled the rest of the album with crap this would be a top 100 album. Where It’s At, New Pollution, Devil’s Haircut, and Jackass were all great singles, combining Beck’s nonsense lyrics with tight production and eclectic sampling by the Dust Brothers (this was not the first top 100 album they produced, hint hint). But this album isn’t just four singles scattered haphazardly. It’s also got some pretty cool and varied songs sprinkled around as album cuts. Hotwax, Lord Only Knows, Novocane and High Five (Rockin’ the Catskills) could have probably been singles. Someday I’d like to get my hands on the Becktionary and figure out what the hell this album’s about, but until then, I’ll be content to just forget about caring what it means and just play it loud as fuck in my car.
50: Ghostface Killah – Ironman (1996)
Among all the first wave Wu-Tang solo albums, opinion on this is most divided. That is, some people think it’s criminally underrated, some think it should have been Cappadonna’s album, some think it’s pretty much retreads of singles and filler. I don’t know if I think it’s all that overrated or underrated. It’s definitely had its share of faulty praise and criticism but none of that stuff really matters does it? What really matters is the music (and the wallabies).
Ironman, like most of the first wave solo albums, has its own distinct theme. While Cuban Linx focused on mob movies and tuned its sound to the strings and gangster samples, Ironman focuses on old soul records, replete with brass and dramatic female vocals and samples heavily from 70’s blaxploitation movies. While Cuban Linx opened with a spoken word intro talking about the drug dealing mentality, Ironman opens with a sample of very young black gang members posturing like grown up thugs - “just me and you motherfucker, just me and you,” says a kid who sounds like he’s about eight, “I’ll put trademarks around your fuckin eyes.” Then Rza’s beat drops and we get cop sirens and a driving beat before the inimitable cryptic style of Raekwon hits with “Gambino niggaz who swipe theirs, deluxe rap cavaliers/ niggaz who steal beers? Give ‘em theirs.” A nod to Cuban Linx, Ghost defers to his cohort as a jumpoff to the album. Not to be outdone, Ghost comes with fire from day one dropping one of the hypest verse on the album dropping jewels like, “we upgrade, swallow raw eggs/ read the label/ hittin’ white label/out the winnebago, unstable” – the entire verse leaves your head swimming in rapid-fire rhyme sounds.
Cappadonna also makes his presence felt on this album, dropping one of the most famous verses in Wu-Tang history with his nearly two minute-long gem on “Winter Warz”. One of the most rapid fire string of nonsequitirs I can think of, it has so many quotables it’s hard to quote one without quoting them all, but it includes the anthemic,
“Even if I’m smoked out, I can’t be scoped out/ I’m too ill, I represent park hill/ see my face on a twenty dollar/ cash it in and get ten dollars back/ the fat LP with Cappachino on the wax/ pass it on your thang, crank valve up to 12/ put all the other LPs back on the shelf/ and smoke a blunt and dial 9-1-7/ 1-6-0-4-9-3-11/ and you can get long-dick hip-hop affection/ I damage any mc who step in my direction/ I’m Staten Island’s best son fuck what you heard/ niggaz still talking that shit is absurb/ my repertoire is USSR/ PLO style got thrown out the car/ and ran over by the Method Man jeep/ Divine can’t define my style is mad deep/ like pussy, my low cut fade stay bushy/ like a porcupine, I part backs like a spine/ gut you like a blunt and reconstruct your design/ i know you wanna dis me but I can read your mind/ cuz you’re weak in the knees like SWV/ tryin’ to get a title like ‘Wu-Killa Bee’/ kid change your habits/ you know I’m friends with The Abbot/ me and Rza’s rhyme name printed on the tablet under vets/ I paid out debts for mad years/ hibernating sounds, now we out like spears/ and blunt power born physically Power speaking/ the truth in the song be the pro-black teaching.”
Whew. The verse is so replete with divine science, annotating it would be as exhausting as annotating Shakespeare. And Donna is nearly always more interesting than the bard. This album’s got so many quotables, like 5 or 6 classic tracks. Too spotty though to be truly classic.
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