Friday, January 30, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
Mötley Crüe
Three things that Mötley Crüe are great for:
1. Co-writing The Dirt, which one of the best books ever, fiction or truth.
2. Comparing their band unfavorably to Nirvana, Guns N' Roses and Metallica.
3. Listening to their awesome music.
I picked up a cassette of Dr. Feelgood around the time that I thought '90s-era Michael Jackson was cutting-edge. After discovering GG Allin I gave it away, only to purchase a used CD copy years later while pining for "Sticky Sweet." The Crüe knew what it was all about--it would be much cooler to say I've spent more time listening to Mayhem and Obituary, but it would also be a bald-faced lie.
On the almost nonexistent event that Mötley Crüe gets any respect in ink, it's usually for being more metal than those poseurs in Bon Jovi. But the Crüe are best appreciated not as a metal band, but as edgy pop artists. They're louder, crazier and more decadent than George Michael or Billy Idol, but they have a similar knack for hooks, melodies and those classic rock n' roll topics. Any time you want to rock out but need a break from blast beats and death grunts, you could do a lot worse.
"Kickstart My Heart"
Robert Rodriguez once named this as the greatest rock n' roll song ever. Debate amongst yourselves, but "Kickstart My Heart" would make a great auditory companion to Desperado or From Dusk 'Til Dawn. Written about Nikki Sixx's heroin OD (he was pronounced dead before two adrenaline shots revived him,) Sixx gave himself the appropriate tribute--a hard-rockin', Zeppelin-biting party anthem that sounds downright deadly on any bar jukebox. Yes, that's Sam Kinison in the video.
"Shout at the Devil"
What the PMRC found objectionable about this one is a mystery--isn't shouting at someone supposed to be a reprimanding? No matter, "Shout at the Devil" is carried by the instant riff and its much-imitated chorus. Whether you're shouting Satan's praises or telling him off, it's hard to imagine anyone with a pulse being unable to enjoy this song.
"Dr. Feelgood"
The Beatles had Dr. Robert, Mayfield had the Pusherman and Mötley Crüe made Dr. Feelgood a household name. In return, "Dr. Feelgood" rocketed the Crüe into megastardom, introducing millions of fans to a band that was high on low life, chock full of catchy songs and entirely remorseless for everything they'd done in the past decade. Strip club tune, meet the stadium anthem.
"Looks that Kill"
Near the start of their career, the Crüe couldn't decide if they wanted to be a party band that wrote about girls or a satanic band that wrote about girls. But no one looks to Mötley Crüe for good decision-making--just for songs like "Looks that Kill," with a sunny yet heavy melody that hinted at their future status. The music video is kind of crap, but it's also the sort of honestly-delivered camp that legions of ironic t-shirt proponents wish they were cool enough to be a part of.
"Rattlesnake Shake"
This is where you fall off the treadmill.
1. Co-writing The Dirt, which one of the best books ever, fiction or truth.
2. Comparing their band unfavorably to Nirvana, Guns N' Roses and Metallica.
3. Listening to their awesome music.
I picked up a cassette of Dr. Feelgood around the time that I thought '90s-era Michael Jackson was cutting-edge. After discovering GG Allin I gave it away, only to purchase a used CD copy years later while pining for "Sticky Sweet." The Crüe knew what it was all about--it would be much cooler to say I've spent more time listening to Mayhem and Obituary, but it would also be a bald-faced lie.
On the almost nonexistent event that Mötley Crüe gets any respect in ink, it's usually for being more metal than those poseurs in Bon Jovi. But the Crüe are best appreciated not as a metal band, but as edgy pop artists. They're louder, crazier and more decadent than George Michael or Billy Idol, but they have a similar knack for hooks, melodies and those classic rock n' roll topics. Any time you want to rock out but need a break from blast beats and death grunts, you could do a lot worse.
"Kickstart My Heart"
Robert Rodriguez once named this as the greatest rock n' roll song ever. Debate amongst yourselves, but "Kickstart My Heart" would make a great auditory companion to Desperado or From Dusk 'Til Dawn. Written about Nikki Sixx's heroin OD (he was pronounced dead before two adrenaline shots revived him,) Sixx gave himself the appropriate tribute--a hard-rockin', Zeppelin-biting party anthem that sounds downright deadly on any bar jukebox. Yes, that's Sam Kinison in the video.
"Shout at the Devil"
What the PMRC found objectionable about this one is a mystery--isn't shouting at someone supposed to be a reprimanding? No matter, "Shout at the Devil" is carried by the instant riff and its much-imitated chorus. Whether you're shouting Satan's praises or telling him off, it's hard to imagine anyone with a pulse being unable to enjoy this song.
"Dr. Feelgood"
The Beatles had Dr. Robert, Mayfield had the Pusherman and Mötley Crüe made Dr. Feelgood a household name. In return, "Dr. Feelgood" rocketed the Crüe into megastardom, introducing millions of fans to a band that was high on low life, chock full of catchy songs and entirely remorseless for everything they'd done in the past decade. Strip club tune, meet the stadium anthem.
"Looks that Kill"
Near the start of their career, the Crüe couldn't decide if they wanted to be a party band that wrote about girls or a satanic band that wrote about girls. But no one looks to Mötley Crüe for good decision-making--just for songs like "Looks that Kill," with a sunny yet heavy melody that hinted at their future status. The music video is kind of crap, but it's also the sort of honestly-delivered camp that legions of ironic t-shirt proponents wish they were cool enough to be a part of.
"Rattlesnake Shake"
This is where you fall off the treadmill.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
"Murders in the Rue Morgue"
Iron Maiden, "Murders in the Rue Morgue" (from Killers)
Few writers are more suited for headbanger interpretation than Edgar Allan Poe, who would've turned 200 today. Supposedly both Seattle prog-power metal band Nevermore and NWOBHM also-rans Raven took their names from Poe's best-known narrative, but Poe's most undeniable influence on metal lies in "Murders in the Rue Morgue," an awesome track on Iron Maiden's second album.
At a time when metal was seen as even less literary than it is today, bassist/writer Steve Harris reassigned the narrative voice of the original Murders in the Rue Morgue to the culprit. Thankfully, Harris managed to retell the story without giving away the ending to those of us who might want to read it, and he also threw in some meaty riffs for Adrian Harris and Dave Murray to chew on.
Paul Di'Anno, the singer on Maiden's underrated first two albums, is an expert interpreter who gives "Murders in the Rue Morgue," a garagey edge that the band never reached again. However, Bruce Dickinson is unquestionably the greatest singer to ever front Iron Maiden. Di'Anno owns "Murders in the Rue Morgue," but it's hard to resist the urge to post a live version with Dickinson singing.
Just as EC Comics adapted The Tell Tale Heart and The Cask of Amontillado to emphasize the drawing talents and storytelling skills of the Tales from the Crypt staff (and to scare the crap out of the rest of us,) Iron Maiden retold Poe's pioneering foray into detective fiction because they could do a great job with it. Whether or not they also intended to get thrill-seeking adolescents to check out a great writer, it was a welcome side effect.
Few writers are more suited for headbanger interpretation than Edgar Allan Poe, who would've turned 200 today. Supposedly both Seattle prog-power metal band Nevermore and NWOBHM also-rans Raven took their names from Poe's best-known narrative, but Poe's most undeniable influence on metal lies in "Murders in the Rue Morgue," an awesome track on Iron Maiden's second album.
At a time when metal was seen as even less literary than it is today, bassist/writer Steve Harris reassigned the narrative voice of the original Murders in the Rue Morgue to the culprit. Thankfully, Harris managed to retell the story without giving away the ending to those of us who might want to read it, and he also threw in some meaty riffs for Adrian Harris and Dave Murray to chew on.
Paul Di'Anno, the singer on Maiden's underrated first two albums, is an expert interpreter who gives "Murders in the Rue Morgue," a garagey edge that the band never reached again. However, Bruce Dickinson is unquestionably the greatest singer to ever front Iron Maiden. Di'Anno owns "Murders in the Rue Morgue," but it's hard to resist the urge to post a live version with Dickinson singing.
Just as EC Comics adapted The Tell Tale Heart and The Cask of Amontillado to emphasize the drawing talents and storytelling skills of the Tales from the Crypt staff (and to scare the crap out of the rest of us,) Iron Maiden retold Poe's pioneering foray into detective fiction because they could do a great job with it. Whether or not they also intended to get thrill-seeking adolescents to check out a great writer, it was a welcome side effect.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
The greatest werewolves in metal
The Dillinger Escape Plan, "Sunshine the Werewolf" (from Miss Machine)
On his first album with DEP, Greg Puciato screamed his lungs out, fighting every fractured time signature to be as dangerously noisy as possible. Yet his versatility helped the band slide into surprisingly melodic territory, completing a werewolf-like transformation into something a little more "sunshine." If the first part doesn't scare you away, there are some tuneful interludes that accentuate the rest of the song's combativeness (and vice versa.)
High On Fire, "Speedwolf" (from Surrounded by Thieves)
Before signing with Relapse and working with Steve Albini, Matt Pike was the guy from Sleep who had a louder and faster new band. "Speedwolf" marked the moment that High on Fire became Pike's definitive project. Surrounded by Thieves sounds like it was recorded in Cerberus' doghouse, but that's never enough to extinguish the hooks and drum rolls that spill out of songs like this one.
Mastodon, "The Wolf is Loose" (from Blood Mountain)
Mastodon obliterated notions that they'd water down their prog-thrash fury for Warner Bros, kicking off their major label debut with a bloodthirsty hymn to a rampant shapeshifter. Like it's protagonist, the song mutates several times at a frantic pace before returning to its original form. "The Wolf is Loose" also introduced listeners to a theme that Mastodon would expand on further down the album.
Metallica, "Of Wolf and Man" (from "The Black Album")
Metal's greatest lyricist voices a night-prowler who evolves into his surroundings ("We shift/Pulsing with the earth.") Evoking his predatory instincts, James Hetfield becomes increasingly feral in the verses after howling out each call-and-response chorus. "The hair stands on the back of my neck," he intones in the bridge, but it's a few more measures before you realize what really just happened to him.
Ozzy Osbourne, "Bark at the Moon" (from Bark at the Moon)
It's no surprise that Ozzy would relate to the Wolfman. Whether exposing his private life on a TV show, giving cordial, myth-crushing interviews or recording relentlessly sappy ballads throughout his solo career, Ozzy has been trying to convince us of his harmlessness for almost as long as he's been famous. But somehow, ant-snorting, bat-devouring, Alamo-desecrating Ozzy keeps breaking out of John Michael Osbourne...
Queens Of The Stone Age, "Someone's in the Wolf" (from Lullabies to Paralyze)
Josh Homme answered critics who thought his band couldn't be as creepy without Nick Oliveri by plunging into the darkest corners of his already pitch black being. On "Someone's in the Wolf," Homme unearthed the riff that Tony Iommi's been searching for since Mob Rules, applied a hypnotic chorus and invented stoner metal video game music. Easily the Queens' most underrated song.
On his first album with DEP, Greg Puciato screamed his lungs out, fighting every fractured time signature to be as dangerously noisy as possible. Yet his versatility helped the band slide into surprisingly melodic territory, completing a werewolf-like transformation into something a little more "sunshine." If the first part doesn't scare you away, there are some tuneful interludes that accentuate the rest of the song's combativeness (and vice versa.)
High On Fire, "Speedwolf" (from Surrounded by Thieves)
Before signing with Relapse and working with Steve Albini, Matt Pike was the guy from Sleep who had a louder and faster new band. "Speedwolf" marked the moment that High on Fire became Pike's definitive project. Surrounded by Thieves sounds like it was recorded in Cerberus' doghouse, but that's never enough to extinguish the hooks and drum rolls that spill out of songs like this one.
Mastodon, "The Wolf is Loose" (from Blood Mountain)
Mastodon obliterated notions that they'd water down their prog-thrash fury for Warner Bros, kicking off their major label debut with a bloodthirsty hymn to a rampant shapeshifter. Like it's protagonist, the song mutates several times at a frantic pace before returning to its original form. "The Wolf is Loose" also introduced listeners to a theme that Mastodon would expand on further down the album.
Metallica, "Of Wolf and Man" (from "The Black Album")
Metal's greatest lyricist voices a night-prowler who evolves into his surroundings ("We shift/Pulsing with the earth.") Evoking his predatory instincts, James Hetfield becomes increasingly feral in the verses after howling out each call-and-response chorus. "The hair stands on the back of my neck," he intones in the bridge, but it's a few more measures before you realize what really just happened to him.
Ozzy Osbourne, "Bark at the Moon" (from Bark at the Moon)
It's no surprise that Ozzy would relate to the Wolfman. Whether exposing his private life on a TV show, giving cordial, myth-crushing interviews or recording relentlessly sappy ballads throughout his solo career, Ozzy has been trying to convince us of his harmlessness for almost as long as he's been famous. But somehow, ant-snorting, bat-devouring, Alamo-desecrating Ozzy keeps breaking out of John Michael Osbourne...
Queens Of The Stone Age, "Someone's in the Wolf" (from Lullabies to Paralyze)
Josh Homme answered critics who thought his band couldn't be as creepy without Nick Oliveri by plunging into the darkest corners of his already pitch black being. On "Someone's in the Wolf," Homme unearthed the riff that Tony Iommi's been searching for since Mob Rules, applied a hypnotic chorus and invented stoner metal video game music. Easily the Queens' most underrated song.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
Badass Dave Mustaine video of the month
In the 24½th century, a crew of Martians devised a plot to usher earth's inhabitants into slavery under a totalitarian dictator.
Three brave space explorers fought back by enlisting one of the great metal guitar superheroes of our time, plus the 2005 lineup of Megadeth.
"You want loud? Nobody rocks louder, faster and harder than Dave Mustaine."
-Duck Dodgers
Three brave space explorers fought back by enlisting one of the great metal guitar superheroes of our time, plus the 2005 lineup of Megadeth.
"You want loud? Nobody rocks louder, faster and harder than Dave Mustaine."
-Duck Dodgers
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Friday, January 9, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Ron Asheton
If there were only three guitarists to shape the sound of heavy metal before Rolling Stone adopted the term as a way to describe the bands they were trashing, Ron Asheton of the Stooges is right up there with Jimmy Page and Tony Iommi. Sure, Richie Blackmore was more "metal" by some standards, but any thrash, stoner, sludge, grindcore or doom metal band is basically living in a world that Asheton created.
Terrible news this morning as Ron Asheton has passed away in his Ann Arbor home. This will no doubt shock anybody who saw the Stooges on their most recent tour, where they were a raging, raw and demented blast of nihilistic rock n' roll. Without question one of the best shows I've ever been lucky enough to attend, the Stooges embodied the attitude and innovation that even the strongest imitators have been struggling to catch up with ever since. The band's equipment had been stolen days before the show, and Terminal 5's acoustics were typically stifling, but I was still moved to gush that Asheton's guitar playing "exploded through the PA with grimy, distorted riffage...a torrential noise hurricane, filled out by revered Minutemen bassist Mike Watt and original saxophonist Steve MacKay. The guitar was mixed way below the vocals and (Ron's brother Scott's) drums, but it still sounded lethal." From the blues of "1969" to the free jazz of "L.A. Blues" to the pre-punk "TV Eye" to the pre-stoner "We Will Fall," there aren't enough subgenres to fit into a review that will do justice to Asheton's playing.
Asheton had both the luck and misfortune of performing with one of the wildest, most charismatic frontmen in history. Spontaneous, uncontrollable and virile, Iggy Pop has enjoyed more time in the spotlight than ever other Stooge combined, but his yelps, contortions and stage dives were all anchored by Asheton's blistering, feedback-driven hooks and solos. Even Iggy's Berlin sessions with David Bowie can't quite match the Asheton/Pop compositions.
Not many could: Even the Slayer's take on "I Wanna be Your Dog," Guns n' Roses' "Raw Power" and Rage Against the Machine's "Down on the Street." can't match the excitement of the originals. Slash, Hanneman, King and Morello are are among the most brilliant life forms to ever play a chord, but still none of them could sound like Ron Asheton.
It's hard to find footage that will capture the excitement of seeing Ron playing with the Stooges. But there's clearly something amazing going on in all these videos.
"No Fun"
"TV Eye"
"I Wanna be Your Dog"
"Dirt"
"1969/Down on the Street"
Terrible news this morning as Ron Asheton has passed away in his Ann Arbor home. This will no doubt shock anybody who saw the Stooges on their most recent tour, where they were a raging, raw and demented blast of nihilistic rock n' roll. Without question one of the best shows I've ever been lucky enough to attend, the Stooges embodied the attitude and innovation that even the strongest imitators have been struggling to catch up with ever since. The band's equipment had been stolen days before the show, and Terminal 5's acoustics were typically stifling, but I was still moved to gush that Asheton's guitar playing "exploded through the PA with grimy, distorted riffage...a torrential noise hurricane, filled out by revered Minutemen bassist Mike Watt and original saxophonist Steve MacKay. The guitar was mixed way below the vocals and (Ron's brother Scott's) drums, but it still sounded lethal." From the blues of "1969" to the free jazz of "L.A. Blues" to the pre-punk "TV Eye" to the pre-stoner "We Will Fall," there aren't enough subgenres to fit into a review that will do justice to Asheton's playing.
Asheton had both the luck and misfortune of performing with one of the wildest, most charismatic frontmen in history. Spontaneous, uncontrollable and virile, Iggy Pop has enjoyed more time in the spotlight than ever other Stooge combined, but his yelps, contortions and stage dives were all anchored by Asheton's blistering, feedback-driven hooks and solos. Even Iggy's Berlin sessions with David Bowie can't quite match the Asheton/Pop compositions.
Not many could: Even the Slayer's take on "I Wanna be Your Dog," Guns n' Roses' "Raw Power" and Rage Against the Machine's "Down on the Street." can't match the excitement of the originals. Slash, Hanneman, King and Morello are are among the most brilliant life forms to ever play a chord, but still none of them could sound like Ron Asheton.
It's hard to find footage that will capture the excitement of seeing Ron playing with the Stooges. But there's clearly something amazing going on in all these videos.
"No Fun"
"TV Eye"
"I Wanna be Your Dog"
"Dirt"
"1969/Down on the Street"
Monday, January 5, 2009
Nine reasons why 2009 rules already
Slayer's new song, "Psychopathy Red:"
Lamb of God's new song, "Contractor:"
Cattle Decapitation's new song, "A Body Farm:"
Morbid Angel's new song, "Nevermore:"
Isis' new song, "20 Minutes/40 Years:"
Napalm Death's new song, "Diktat:"
Anthrax's new song, "Fight 'em 'til You Can't:"
God Forbid's new song, "War of Attrition:"
Suicidal Tendencies' new song, "Come Alive"
Lamb of God's new song, "Contractor:"
Cattle Decapitation's new song, "A Body Farm:"
Morbid Angel's new song, "Nevermore:"
Isis' new song, "20 Minutes/40 Years:"
Napalm Death's new song, "Diktat:"
Anthrax's new song, "Fight 'em 'til You Can't:"
God Forbid's new song, "War of Attrition:"
Suicidal Tendencies' new song, "Come Alive"
Friday, January 2, 2009
The saddest music in the world
A friend recently asked me to "explain Kurt Cobain." While condensing my case to a few minutes was an almost unbearable exercise in self-restraint, it got me to reconsider "Something in the Way."
It'd be absurd to argue about which artists pick the saddest subject matter, but it's also inarguable that no one can express sadness quite like Nirvana's lead singer, songwriter and guitarist. The chorus to "Scentless Apprentice," the climax to "Where Did You Sleep Last Night" and even the catchiest part of "Aneurysm" are as gut-wrenching as rock music gets, but "Something in the Way" might be the saddest song to ever find its way onto a Nirvana album.
The title, an apparent homage to Cobain's Liverpool-based heroes, characterizes the singer's look at his eight-year-old self during his parents' divorce. Unable to find a place for himself in the midst of a tumultuous break-up, Cobain cast himself as an inconvenience, something he beautifully expressed in a few minutes on the most famous album of the '90s.
Kurt Cobain sings in a hushed tone, almost burying his voice with a barely existent, two-chord melody on his acoustic. Like the narrator, the song itself is struggling to disappear, shrouding itself near the tale end of Nevermind while the protagonist (dubiously, but it doesn't matter) hides under a bridge near the Wishkah River.
Any hack emo songwriter can complain about being "nothing," but it takes a genius like Kurt Cobain to understand why being "something" can be so much worse.
It'd be absurd to argue about which artists pick the saddest subject matter, but it's also inarguable that no one can express sadness quite like Nirvana's lead singer, songwriter and guitarist. The chorus to "Scentless Apprentice," the climax to "Where Did You Sleep Last Night" and even the catchiest part of "Aneurysm" are as gut-wrenching as rock music gets, but "Something in the Way" might be the saddest song to ever find its way onto a Nirvana album.
The title, an apparent homage to Cobain's Liverpool-based heroes, characterizes the singer's look at his eight-year-old self during his parents' divorce. Unable to find a place for himself in the midst of a tumultuous break-up, Cobain cast himself as an inconvenience, something he beautifully expressed in a few minutes on the most famous album of the '90s.
Kurt Cobain sings in a hushed tone, almost burying his voice with a barely existent, two-chord melody on his acoustic. Like the narrator, the song itself is struggling to disappear, shrouding itself near the tale end of Nevermind while the protagonist (dubiously, but it doesn't matter) hides under a bridge near the Wishkah River.
Any hack emo songwriter can complain about being "nothing," but it takes a genius like Kurt Cobain to understand why being "something" can be so much worse.
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