Parachute

Artist: The Pretty Things
Album: Parachute
Release Year: 1970
Genres: art rock, psychedelia

1) Scene One; 2) The Good Mr. Square; 3) She Was Tall, She Was High; 4) In the Square; 5) The Letter; 6) Rain; 7) Miss Fay Regrets; 8) Cries from the Midnight Circus; 9) Grass; 10) Sickle Clowns; 11) She's a Lover; 12) What's the Use; 13) Parachute.

Best Song: Grass

You guys have no idea how happy I was to see this album come up on the "shuffle" list. And, come to think of it, you probably have no idea who the Pretty Things are, either. They were an artsy rhythm and blues band from England, and they wrote S. F. Sorrow, the first rock opera ever (yes, it even came before Tommy), in 1968. The Pretty Things were never songwriting masters, but they were still damn good, and I can only think of a few of their songs that I honestly dislike. So they weren't the Beatles or the Stones (their idols), but they did their work, and there are some real gems in their catalogue. Like Parachute.

I downloaded the album, took my Zune to the basement, and played it good and loud. I was planning on drawing or something while I listened, but I was so enthralled by the album that I just sat there most of the time, wondering where why it had taken me so long to find this. Seriously. The enthusiasm of the whole thing, the curiosity, the innocence with just a hint of darkness--it was like travelling back in time to some carefree summer so many years ago. Nostalgic as I can be, it's no surprise that in one listen, it became one of my favorite albums.

I see Parachute as a dream, with the scenes constantly changing and blurring into one another and still making perfect sense. You start with a brief overture, then a nice five-track suite that goes from naive to lovestruck before ending in the excellent groove of "Rain." I always think of this as the "light and happy" part of the dream sequence, since a childish perspective seems to come through in the lyrics. And no, they didn't copy the suite idea from The Beatles. Of course not.

Then the album takes a turn toward heavy, psychedelic blues, starting with the hard-rocking "Miss Fay Regrets." A glance at the track titles tells us we are in the "nightmare" phase, with Phil May howling twisted lyrics over some very dark jams--just listen to that bass intro to "Cries from the Midnight Circus!" You can almost see the debauchery going on inside the tent, can't you? Guys...? "Sickle Clowns" is probably better, though: that relentless guitar/bass interplay drags you through all seven minutes and makes it seem like three.

But, in the middle of those, we get a nice break with "Grass" (good thing, because otherwise you wouldn't know when one ended and the other began). This song is beautiful, and the scene is heart-wrenching. Yes, even I can feel it. It's sitting in a field at sunset with her (whoever she may be) and knowing she is leaving, forever. Normally I hate mushy shit like that, but the Pretties really knew how to pull it off.

The final third is a "recovery" of sorts, with the melodies getting feather-light and carrying you away again. Is "She's a Lover" a triumphant response to "Grass?" If it is, than "What's the Use" is kind of a cruel choice to follow it, but I don't think they meant the songs to connect. That's just me, overanalyzing as usual. Finally there's the title track, which is just a nice, chill, piano-driven instrumental that floats you back to reality, the dream now fading and the sun coming over the horizon.

So, if you haven't guessed it by now, there's not a single note on this album I don't like. And yet, I cannot give it a ten, because my experience of this album is overwhelmingly subjective. As much as I love Parachute, I know a ten would not be reasonable, because the "nightmare tracks" are too similar, and "Cries from the Midnight Circus" is too long. I just don't mind it, myself-- that's all. Yes, it's sad, but logic must triumph over emotion in the end, even in something as sanguine as music.

Rating: 9

Fragile

Artist: Yes
Album: Fragile
Release Year: 1971
Genres: progressive rock

1) Roundabout; 2) Cans and Brahms; 3) We Have Heaven; 4) South Side of the Sky; 5) Ten Per Cent of Nothing; 6) Long Distance Runaround; 7) The Fish (Schindleria Praematurus); 8) Mood for a Day; 9) Heart of the Sunrise.

Best Song: Roundabout

If you ever wanted to acquaint yourself with both the best and the worst aspects of progressive rock, I see no better candidate to demonstrate them than Yes. During their "classic" period from 1969-1974, they released seven albums, all of which (except maybe Time and a Word) tried to be "epic" on some level, featuring amazing song lengths, frequent and unpredictable time-signature changes, dizzying instrumental passages, and Jon Anderson's mind-screwing lyrics. Yeah, these guys have gotten their heads up their collective ass plenty of times, but I actually applaud them for doing that when they produce something as good as Fragile.

The very best progressive albums have a concept, a unifying theme, and I've heard at least a few people call Fragile an environmentalist project. Yeah, okay, there's a picture of Earth on the front...but where else do they get that idea from? If you ask me, there are no consistent lyrical themes, because Jon Anderson doesn't write lyrics for their literal meaning. Instead, he uses them as another sort of instrument, arranging them for their composite sound, their effect on the listener when combined with the music. No, this album's theme lies in the music itself. It's hard to pin down, so I'm going to borrow George Starostin's take on the recurring motif: movement. The music is always moving, but it's more than that: it's taking us on a journey around the world, giving us as many vantage points as possible, and it's never, ever boring.

There's a lot of diversity in the melodies and structures, which makes the album such a joy to listen to. A band like Yes runs a great risk of becoming tiresome if they play the same way for forty minutes, so I'm sure glad they decided to mix it up on here. We start with the sunny, enthusiastic "Roundabout," make our way to the desperate "South Side of the Sky," hit an amazing groove with "Schindleria Praematurus" (I love how musical they make scientific names), and reach a warm, rousing conclusion with "Heart of the Sunrise." The sense of ascension (toward "the chair that really fits you," then to the sun itself) in that song is really nice, even if it is a bit overlong.

Oh, and the members each have their little solo spots on this album too, like the bittersweet acoustic guitar workout "Mood for a Day" (my second favorite), or the brilliant vocal layering of "We Have Heaven." Maybe the solo spots are what make this album so good: they gave the individual members a chance to vent their huge egos in preparation for the larger collaborations. I mean, this is still a Yes album, so it's going to be at least a little pretentious. Some of the atmospheric and instrumental passages may or may not seem too long to sit through, but I don't mind them because they work as a part of the larger piece. So rock on, Yes, and remember not to devolve into a lame new-wave band. Oh, wait...

Rating: 8.5

Ramones

Artist: The Ramones
Album: Ramones
Release Year: 1976
Genres: punk

1) Blitzkreig Bop; 2) Beat on the Brat; 3) Judy Is a Punk; 4) I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend; 5) Chain Saw; 6) Now I Wanna Sniff Some Glue; 7) I Don't Wanna Go Down to the Basement; 8) Loudmouth; 9) Havana Affair; 10) Listen to My Heart; 11) 53rd & 3rd; 12) Let's Dance; 13) I Don't Wanna Walk Around with You; 14) Today Your Love, Tomorrow the World.

Best Song: Blitzkreig Bop (or anything else)

HEY! HO! LET'S GO! Johnny Rotten, Joel Madden, and Billy Joe Armstrong: bow down to your rightful lords and masters! Before punk became the Gospel of anti-establishment teens, before punk meant attacking every social norm in existence, before punk was punk, there was the Ramones. They played could barely play their instruments--and yet, they did punk better than just about any band manages today.

How? Simple: the Ramones were great at stripping away all the extra layers of rock music, leaving just the bare-bones essentials, and showing us that yes, those essentials are all you truly need to create satisfying music. I assume the drumming rarely strays from 4/4 time (I can't identify time signiatures), and the bass lines are just one or two notes over and over. Johhny Ramone slams out the same chords, and Joey yelps as much as he sings. At first listen it may be nothing but a pointless, talentless racket, but I implore you to try it a few more times. It'll come to you. The simple lyrics which awaken the irreverent youthful spirit? The snarling yet indifferent vocal delivery? The catchy-as-hell melodies? They do their work, and the reward is great.

Don't expect anything intelligent in the lyrics. The Ramones weren't political; they were all about partying, making out, watching horror movies, and other D-student thrills. I mean, come on: "now I wanna sniff some glue/Now I wanna have something to do." Or even: ""Beat on the brat with a baseball bat. Oh yeah." That's it. They're kids who don't want to take out the trash or do their homework or put up with the bitchy girls behind them in biology class. They just wanna rock, man, and I'm on board with them one hundred percent. It's like reliving high school and pulling off all the shit I was too smart to do in real life. The stupid lyrics may leave some wanting a little more, but with punk, it's either that or more anarchist crap, which I'd say is just as braindead, just in a different way.

There are a lot of these little touches I love, too. Like the way Joey manages to fit the word "basement" into one syllable in track 7, or the weird "ba-boom" drum thing after "baby baby make me loco" in "Havana Affair," or even the jangly guitars in the swaggering intro to "I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend," which set the simple-minded, freshman-year mood just fine. I could go on, but I'll just let you find the rest for yourself.

Most of these songs barely reach the two-minute mark, and they're almost indistinguishable from one another--which is great! Songs like these don't have the momentum to sustain them for any longer than that. The rapid-fire style works wonders, keeping us moving, keeping everything fresh. Maybe they couldn't write rock operas or progressive epics, but they still had a great understanding of composition, those Ramones. All the sudden, that cliche about how "the genius lies in its simplicity" seems to have found a home.

Gabba gabba hey.

Rating: 9

Phobia

Artist: Breaking Benjamin
Album: Phobia
Release Year: 2006
Genres: alternative rock, pop-rock

1) Intro; 2) The Diary of Jane; 3) Breath; 4) You; 5) Evil Angel; 6) Until the End; 7) Dance with the Devil; 8) Topless; 9) Here We Are; 10) Unknown Soldier; 11) Had Enough; 12) You Fight Me; 13) Outro; 14) Diary of Jane (acoustic).

Best Song: The Diary of Jane (either version)

You know those songs or albums that aren't all that special in and of themselves, yet you enjoy them because of the memories and such associated with them? Yeah, that's what this one is for me. All you have to do is turn on your local hard rock station for fifteen minutes, and you will already have heard everything on this album. Angsty verses, power choruses, pseudo-screaming, songs about broken relationships...the cliches are all here. And yet, on Phobia they're tolerable. Usually.

There's a fine line between "satisfying" and "whiny," and I must say the guys really flirt with it on here. Slow songs, with lines like "fly over meeee, evil aaangeeellll" that still try to sound half-badass, just come off as pathetic. And who's taking them seriously when they mke "dancing with the devil" sound like something out of a teen drama? But, there are still similar songs that don't give me any unintentional laughs. I like the meandering verses on "Until the End," and both "Breath" and "Had Enough" contain respectable hooks, so there's that. I really don't know what makes them any better than the others, but I'm not going to spend much time trying to figure it out.

So Phobia is whiny and cliche, and yet I find both of those flaws more forgivable than not. Why? Beats me. Maybe because the melodies are still more catchy than not, or because there are enough interesting moments to redeem the boring ones. Or is it because they're all bookended with two versions of the excellent anthem "Diary of Jane," including a piano version which contains elements of true feeling? Yeah, it's probably the last one.

Rating: 6.5

P.S: I know, I rated the album kind of low for flaws I already said were mainly forgivable, and u mad. But bear in mind that this is a pop rock album, and on those can never score too highly on the "absolute" scale. If this rating were adjusted to compare this one only to other pop-rock albums, I would rate it closer to a 7.5 or an 8.

Hospice

Artist: The Antlers
Album: Hospice
Release Year: 2009
Genres: indie rock, art rock
1) Prologue; 2) Kettering; 3) Sylvia; 4) Atrophy; 5) Bear; 6) Thirteen; 7) Two; 8) Shiva; 9) Wake; 10) Epilogue.

Best Song: you know...I don't think individual songs are important on this album. Maybe "Wake," though.

Normally, I would spend most of the review talking about structure and presentation,with some time on lyrics. On Hospice, however, it's all about the lyrics. I mean, the album would still be nice background music without them, but all the songs are pretty similar, and it's obvious that the music really is secondary here. Even though it does tie into the lyrics pretty well, in the end it's just a vehicle for the narrative.

The narrative, I understand, is often deemed absolutely heartbreaking, and I will admit it's not one to shrug off so easily. Briefly, it's about a guy working in hospice who falls in love with a dying woman. She emotionally abuses him (I can understand being a trifle bitter in this situation), but he feels compelled to stick around and open up, to carry a burden he can never lift (pointless). Oh well. Nothing quite as idiotic and destructive as love, huh? Anyway, she dies hating him, and he's all the worse for his trouble.

Yes, it's very sad and all, but I have trouble deciding how convincing it all is. As shameful as I find it, I can certainly sympathize with those who struggle with the ridiculous irony of human emotion. The emotion comes through in the immediate sense--I can certainly see and feel the protagonist crying out in frustration and resigned agony at his inability to turn away from a destructive relationship. Yet I can't help seeing the whole thing as a bid to grab hold of the listener's fragile adolescent emotions and steer them toward adoring the band for all eternity, just because they were able to play upon their heartstrings for an hour. Oh, all you irrational, melodramatic youngsters!

Meh. Maybe I just find it hard to define a position on anything that deals with emotions I have never felt, but since the music rarely strays beyond "pretty," I see little reason to listen to Hospice unless you want to be depressed. That alone makes me suspicious. However, I must admit I really enjoy other "tragic" albums, whose genius lies in their ability to make tragedy beautiful. If the artist does it just right, you find yourself wanting to spin the album, just to get that unearthly feeling: the sadness of the narrative, but the pleasure at hearing something truly special. I have yet to decide whether Hospice manages to do that, or if it's just manufactured angst in disguise. Either way, it's a unique trip, and for that I commend it.

Rating: 7.5

Ire Works

Artist: The Dillinger Escape Plan
Album: Ire Works
Release Year: 2007
Genres: heavy metal, progressive metal



1) Fix Your Face; 2) Lurch; 3) Black Bubblegum; 4) Sick on Sunday; 5) When Acting as a Particle; 6) Nong Eye Gong; 7) When Acting as a Wave; 8) 82588; 9) Milk Lizard; 10) Party Smasher; 11) Dead as History; 12) Horse Hunter; 13) Mouth of Ghosts.


Best Song: Milk Lizard


I almost called this "experimental metal," but I quickly decided not to, since that just seems like a cop-out, a way to lazily categorize something you don't actually know where to place. Truth is, this album really isn't that far out there, even though I doubt any drooling, drug-addled metalhead would ever swear loyalty to a song like "Sick on Sunday." Some of these songs barely include any screaming at all, which is good for me--but not because I think screaming automatically degrades the music. No, this album is special because the screaming becomes a necessary product of the electrifying and brilliant musical motifs. That's a far cry from those metal acts who think screaming and heaviness is a prerequisite of good music (or at least a cheap substitute), when the reverse is actually true. The trick is to write your songs in such a way that it becomes a minor travesty to imagine them without the brutal delivery, and Dillinger do exactly that on Ire Works.

Speaking of which, I must reiterate that I normally hold a bias against metal, for the reasons I stated above. And yet, I love this album, and what initially drew me in was the ever-present groove. Be it a claustrophobic assault like "Fix Your Face" or a smooth, rollicking number like "Black Bubblegum," each song has a real melodic flow underneath all the slamming chords and drum spasms. Oh, and I have to take a moment to praise "Black Bubblegum." Purists will hate me for this, but to hell with them! The chanting verses, with the falsetto at the end of each line, and the furious, head-banging chorus make it irresistible. The other songs have similar moments of revelation, in atmospheric and symphonic passages as well as power choruses, but those are more subtle...which just makes it even more rewarding when they finally occur.

This album sometimes reminds me of King Crimson's Discipline, with the interlocking passages, clever time signature changes, and an emphasis on a cerebral groove, but not even King Crimson dared to throw a jazzy piano breakdown into a metal song. That happens on "Milk Lizard," and it's just one of the many delightful elements of that track. The sinister riff, the suffocating, lustful verses backed by some evil-sounding brass, the solos, and of course the climactic chorus, which we don't even hear until the two-minute mark, are sublime together. The other songs are almost universally great, too, and once again, it's that groove that keeps 'em going down easy (I'm sure there's a sexual double-entendre in there somewhere, but let the freshmen figure it out). Ire Works is meticulous, literate, and fascinating. It's the very model of metal done right.


Rating: 9