21 Days to Find a Home
Spin magazine (probably Chuck Klosterman) has my favorite quote about Aerosmith's Rocks, which I'll paraphrase here: They'd one day get their own roller coaster at Disney World, but on Rocks Aerosmith were their own roller coaster.
It doesn't have as many hits as Toys in the Attic or Pump, but Rocks is their best album, Aerosmith at their wildest, loudest and hardest (hell, even Testament couldn't make "Nobody's Fault" sound heavier). After "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing," it's easy to forget that Aerosmith made an album that inspired Slash, James Hetfield and Kurt Cobain to pick up guitars, but with one to Rocks I wonder why anyone remembers "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing" at all. It's the only Aersomith album to have only one power ballad, and like everything else on Rocks it's a doozy, with vocal harmonies that deserve the Mick and Keith comparisons and one of Joe Perry's most transcendent solos. Listening again, I can't blame them for going soft after Rocks--how were they ever going to top this?
Showing posts with label Aerosmith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Aerosmith. Show all posts
Thursday, April 9, 2015
Monday, December 15, 2014
What Your Least Favorite Aerosmith Album Says About You
Surely it's not this one.
Aerosmith: You're a Stones purist.
Get Your Wings: You're a Yardbirds purist.
Toys in the Attic: You're a Bull Moose Jackson purist.
Rocks: Your favorite song is "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing."
Draw the Line: You're straight edge.
Night in the Ruts: You're Joe Perry.
Rock in a Hard Place: You're Brad Whitford.
Done with Mirrors: You learned about Aerosmith from Run-DMC.
Permanent Vacation: You hate Bon Jovi.
Pump: Come on. You don't mean that.
Get a Grip: Your offspring bought this record.
Nine Lives: Your favorite album is Get a Grip.
Just Push Play: You learned about Aerosmith from Wayne's World 2.
Honkin' on Bobo: You learned about Aerosmith from American Idol.
Music from Another Dimension!: You've listened to every Aerosmith album.
Thursday, May 1, 2014
Aerosmith, Pump
When did Aerosmith go bad? Even their most forgiving fans, the ones who lapped up "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing", seem to have jumped ship. It's been 13 years since the band had a hit ("Jaded"), making this an even longer dry spell than the one that Run-D.M.C. infamously dragged them back from. Some will claim that Aerosmith jumped the shark when Steven Tyler joined American Idol, or when they brought in song doctors for Permanent Vacation, or at the peak of the drug years in the late 70s, or when a group of New England kids decided to form a band that sounded like a louder, dumber Rolling Stones. Whatever the case, at some point in history, Aerosmith decidedly started to suck.
I'm in the boat that claims Pump, which turns 25 this year, was Aerosmith's last great album. Get a Grip was more popular, and amazingly is still their highest-selling album, but by then they were already drowning in the pop-rock sound they had embraced on their comeback, shooting off McBallads like "Cryin'," "Crazy" and "Amazing" that could almost make you forget they were performed by the same five guys who wrote Rocks. It was also memorably the tour where they kicked openers Megadeth off the bill and replaced them with Jackyl. We should have known it would get worse from there.
But Pump is a different story. Yes, it's from their pop era, but it showcases Aerosmith changing pop rather than pop changing Aerosmith. It sounds more like classic rock than glam metal, with "Young Lust" and "F.I.N.E." roaring out like a pair of hidden toys in Aerosmith's attic. The Tylerisms were in their prime ("Love in an Elevator"), but he wasn't too self-conscious yet to let his heart get broken ("What it Takes") or give the world a chill over murder and sexual abuse ("Janie's Got a Gun"). Perhaps it was the need to distance themselves form an abundance of third-rate imitators, or maybe a need to compete with newcomers like Guns N' Roses who trumping Aerosmith at their own game. Whatever the case, Pump stands as one of Aerosmith's best albums, and a triumph for hard rock.
I'm in the boat that claims Pump, which turns 25 this year, was Aerosmith's last great album. Get a Grip was more popular, and amazingly is still their highest-selling album, but by then they were already drowning in the pop-rock sound they had embraced on their comeback, shooting off McBallads like "Cryin'," "Crazy" and "Amazing" that could almost make you forget they were performed by the same five guys who wrote Rocks. It was also memorably the tour where they kicked openers Megadeth off the bill and replaced them with Jackyl. We should have known it would get worse from there.
But Pump is a different story. Yes, it's from their pop era, but it showcases Aerosmith changing pop rather than pop changing Aerosmith. It sounds more like classic rock than glam metal, with "Young Lust" and "F.I.N.E." roaring out like a pair of hidden toys in Aerosmith's attic. The Tylerisms were in their prime ("Love in an Elevator"), but he wasn't too self-conscious yet to let his heart get broken ("What it Takes") or give the world a chill over murder and sexual abuse ("Janie's Got a Gun"). Perhaps it was the need to distance themselves form an abundance of third-rate imitators, or maybe a need to compete with newcomers like Guns N' Roses who trumping Aerosmith at their own game. Whatever the case, Pump stands as one of Aerosmith's best albums, and a triumph for hard rock.
Monday, April 14, 2014
Five Great Songs from the Say Anything... Soundtrack (that aren't "In Your Eyes" or "Joe Lies")
My sister once declared that Say Anything..., which turns 25 today, was a definitive chick flick that guys will watch (she phrased it more eruditely than that, but you get the idea). She's right--maybe it's Cameron Crowe's screenplay, or the way it captures the aches of the male crush, or its creation of a world where a guy who spends his Saturday nights at a Gas 'n' Sip could date a girl that looked like Ione Skye. There's something about Say Anything... that gets through to the lunkheaded heterosexual male, more than perhaps any other film in Netflix's Rom Com section.
As with every Crowe film, us music nerds get the bonus of a killer soundtrack, doused with everything from Aerosmith's "Back in the Saddle" to Mother Love Bone and Soundgarden two years before the grunge boom (which Crowe went on to capture in his next movie, Singles). Of course Say Anything... is best known for the Peter Gabriel song in its most famous scene, and Lili Taylor's odes to her callous ex are probably a distant second, but its soundtrack has a trove of less-famous gems worth celebrating today.
1. Living Colour, "Cult of Personality"
It's a classic today, though there was no way of knowing that in 1989, when Living Colour were a relatively new band under producer Mick Jagger's wing. They're still a ferocious live band, and Vernon Reid is universally acknowledged as one of the world's greatest guitar players, but this is deservedly their most enduring song.
2. Red Hot Chili Peppers, "Taste the Pain"
Another band on the cusp of megastardom when Crowe picked them for Lloyd Dobler's tape deck, the Chili Peppers were streamlining the disjointed funk rock of their earliest albums on "Taste the Pain," showing hints of the songmanship that was about to peak on Blood Sugar Sex Magik.
3. Depeche Mode, "Stripped"
Like Crowe himself, Depeche Mode were experts at taking the artsy underdog to the mainstream, being lonely enough for Cusack types and sexy enough for the rest of the world. Arguably the male musical equivalent of "a brain trapped in the body of a game-show hostess."
4. Fishbone, "Skankin' to the Beat"
Now that ska has been raided and exhausted beyond repair, "Skankin' to the Beat" should be as dated as Fishbone's cameo in Back to the Beach. Thankfully, its got enough of a new wave touch to earn its spot in the graduation party scene, and justify the Fishbone logo on Lloyd Dobler's shirt.
5. The Replacements, "Within in Your Reach"
Crowe dug this one out from the second half of the Replacements' messiest album, where it hid next to a drunken cover of "The Twist." Performed entirely by Paul Westerberg, "Within Your Reach" is the only song in Say Anything... that sounds like something Lloyd Dobler would actually write, though I'm glad Crowe made him a kickboxing instructor instead.
As with every Crowe film, us music nerds get the bonus of a killer soundtrack, doused with everything from Aerosmith's "Back in the Saddle" to Mother Love Bone and Soundgarden two years before the grunge boom (which Crowe went on to capture in his next movie, Singles). Of course Say Anything... is best known for the Peter Gabriel song in its most famous scene, and Lili Taylor's odes to her callous ex are probably a distant second, but its soundtrack has a trove of less-famous gems worth celebrating today.
1. Living Colour, "Cult of Personality"
It's a classic today, though there was no way of knowing that in 1989, when Living Colour were a relatively new band under producer Mick Jagger's wing. They're still a ferocious live band, and Vernon Reid is universally acknowledged as one of the world's greatest guitar players, but this is deservedly their most enduring song.
2. Red Hot Chili Peppers, "Taste the Pain"
Another band on the cusp of megastardom when Crowe picked them for Lloyd Dobler's tape deck, the Chili Peppers were streamlining the disjointed funk rock of their earliest albums on "Taste the Pain," showing hints of the songmanship that was about to peak on Blood Sugar Sex Magik.
3. Depeche Mode, "Stripped"
Like Crowe himself, Depeche Mode were experts at taking the artsy underdog to the mainstream, being lonely enough for Cusack types and sexy enough for the rest of the world. Arguably the male musical equivalent of "a brain trapped in the body of a game-show hostess."
4. Fishbone, "Skankin' to the Beat"
Now that ska has been raided and exhausted beyond repair, "Skankin' to the Beat" should be as dated as Fishbone's cameo in Back to the Beach. Thankfully, its got enough of a new wave touch to earn its spot in the graduation party scene, and justify the Fishbone logo on Lloyd Dobler's shirt.
5. The Replacements, "Within in Your Reach"
Crowe dug this one out from the second half of the Replacements' messiest album, where it hid next to a drunken cover of "The Twist." Performed entirely by Paul Westerberg, "Within Your Reach" is the only song in Say Anything... that sounds like something Lloyd Dobler would actually write, though I'm glad Crowe made him a kickboxing instructor instead.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Jamie Casino's Super Bowl Commercial
Historically, the Super Bowl is one of those places where metal goes to die, whether it's Aerosmith stomping out all of their Toys in the Attic credibility with 'N Sync and Britney Spears or Mötley Crüe repurposing "Kickstart My Heart" for Kia. Don't even get me started on Slash and the Black Eyed Peas. Yet a friend set me lawyer Jamie Casino's metal-tinged attorney ad (aired locally on a Savannah station), and I am all about it.
The music is by Nick Nolan, who doesn't have much of an internet presence (yet) but sounds like Pepper Keenan-era Corrosion of Conformity.
The music is by Nick Nolan, who doesn't have much of an internet presence (yet) but sounds like Pepper Keenan-era Corrosion of Conformity.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Ten Metal Bands to See Before You Die: AC/DC
If AC/DC just sat there onstage while a tape played "Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap," "T.N.T.," "You Shook Me All Night Long," "Back in Black" and "Highway to Hell," they'd still earn consideration for this list. But as anyone who has seen The Who this century can tell you, playing great songs does not make you a great live band.
40 years into one of the most incredible careers in audio history, AC/DC are still claiming metal's greatest dancer, swinging from the clappers of Hell's Bells, giving us a Whole Lotta Rosie and leaving everything in their wake Thunderstruck. Getting had, getting took and telling folks it's harder than it looks.
By working their way into the 200 Million Sold club without ever deviating from the harder-than-hard rock formula that made them famous, AC/DC makes success look as easy as "The Jack." Then again, nobody has ever played those three chords with the kind of gleeful punch that Angus gives them, not to mention the wildman blues-metal freakout solo that often takes over "Let There Be Rock." The most famous Keith Richards quote about his guitars ("Give me five minutes and I'll make 'em all sound the same") can be applied to Angus Young. But give his admirers four decades, and none of them will sound like him.
No great guitarist this side of Prince has made his instrument such an enthralling part of his performance, without taking away from the playing. Watching Angus Young with a Gibson is akin to watching James Brown with a microphone stand. "I'm a rotten guitar player if I'm standing still," Angus has said, and while I don't believe it, you can tell that he does.
AC/DC does not have many of peers, but even the ones who come closest are put to shame by AC/DC's show. They're not pretending to like each other (Aerosmith, Van Halen,) physically ravaged by their decades of drug abuse (Black Sabbath, Mötley Crüe) or dressing up their guitarist to look like the guy they kicked out (KISS, Guns N' Roses). AC/DC prefer to keep their drama beneath them, where it belongs. They continue to set examples for all younger artists, meaning nearly everyone, and meaning nobody who puts on a show like these guys do.
40 years into one of the most incredible careers in audio history, AC/DC are still claiming metal's greatest dancer, swinging from the clappers of Hell's Bells, giving us a Whole Lotta Rosie and leaving everything in their wake Thunderstruck. Getting had, getting took and telling folks it's harder than it looks.
By working their way into the 200 Million Sold club without ever deviating from the harder-than-hard rock formula that made them famous, AC/DC makes success look as easy as "The Jack." Then again, nobody has ever played those three chords with the kind of gleeful punch that Angus gives them, not to mention the wildman blues-metal freakout solo that often takes over "Let There Be Rock." The most famous Keith Richards quote about his guitars ("Give me five minutes and I'll make 'em all sound the same") can be applied to Angus Young. But give his admirers four decades, and none of them will sound like him.
No great guitarist this side of Prince has made his instrument such an enthralling part of his performance, without taking away from the playing. Watching Angus Young with a Gibson is akin to watching James Brown with a microphone stand. "I'm a rotten guitar player if I'm standing still," Angus has said, and while I don't believe it, you can tell that he does.
AC/DC does not have many of peers, but even the ones who come closest are put to shame by AC/DC's show. They're not pretending to like each other (Aerosmith, Van Halen,) physically ravaged by their decades of drug abuse (Black Sabbath, Mötley Crüe) or dressing up their guitarist to look like the guy they kicked out (KISS, Guns N' Roses). AC/DC prefer to keep their drama beneath them, where it belongs. They continue to set examples for all younger artists, meaning nearly everyone, and meaning nobody who puts on a show like these guys do.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Five Reasons Why Boston Rocks Harder
With tributes pouring in to Boston in the wake of this week's tragedy, I imagine that more than a few of them will come from or at least cite Boston's rich musical history. I've already seen plenty about the Dropkick Murphys, and I'm sure that some well-meaning rock media figure will mistake Rob Zombie for still being Bostonian or Aersomith for still being rock. Not that anyone needs to--without resorting to "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing," here are five bands proving that Boston rocks as hard as any city in the world.
1. Revocation
No band is making better death metal than these guys. Technical enough to land on this year's Summer Slaughter while still writing actual songs, this quartet gives death metal its long overdue thrash-inspired ass-kicking, from their bluesy, Dimebag-worthy soloing to their rapid fire riffs and jackhammer rhythms.
2. The Red Chord
One of the only bands to respect grindcore enough to flesh it out into something with solos, audible lyrics and fully-realized (but succinct) compositions. On their last album, Fed Through the Teeth Machine, The Red Chord destroyed genre, song structure and time signature conventions with some of the most energized performances being recorded today, although you might have to see it live to believe it.
3. Converge
It's almost unfair. Every album is a challenging, gut-wrenching and addictive example of the best that punk and metal can do, almost single-handedly keeping punk music off life support for the entire 21st century. Technically, Converge are from Salem, but their rampaging music and ardent integrity is as rooted in Boston hardcore as it is in Bannon, Ballou, Newton and Koller's chemistry.
4. Mission of Burma
Before every punk tried to pass as an intellectual, Mission of Burma made punk rock into something almost pretty, packing a few dozen art-punk tracks into a some addictive albums in the '80s. That first run helped shape the next few decades of art-rockers, and was more than enough to earn them a spot among Boston's musical elite, but then they reunited in the 2000s and set the high standard for rock comebacks with a series of albums at least as strong as the early classics. Eat your hearts out, Strokes.
5. Boston
What can I say? Boston's debut is mainly remembered for selling 17 million copies and being Boston's only good album, but what an album it is. The production has aged poorly enough for cooler bands to goof on its songs, but they still listened, and were better off for it. As late '70s hard rock, it ranks with KISS and Blue Öyster Cult.
1. Revocation
No band is making better death metal than these guys. Technical enough to land on this year's Summer Slaughter while still writing actual songs, this quartet gives death metal its long overdue thrash-inspired ass-kicking, from their bluesy, Dimebag-worthy soloing to their rapid fire riffs and jackhammer rhythms.
2. The Red Chord
One of the only bands to respect grindcore enough to flesh it out into something with solos, audible lyrics and fully-realized (but succinct) compositions. On their last album, Fed Through the Teeth Machine, The Red Chord destroyed genre, song structure and time signature conventions with some of the most energized performances being recorded today, although you might have to see it live to believe it.
3. Converge
It's almost unfair. Every album is a challenging, gut-wrenching and addictive example of the best that punk and metal can do, almost single-handedly keeping punk music off life support for the entire 21st century. Technically, Converge are from Salem, but their rampaging music and ardent integrity is as rooted in Boston hardcore as it is in Bannon, Ballou, Newton and Koller's chemistry.
4. Mission of Burma
Before every punk tried to pass as an intellectual, Mission of Burma made punk rock into something almost pretty, packing a few dozen art-punk tracks into a some addictive albums in the '80s. That first run helped shape the next few decades of art-rockers, and was more than enough to earn them a spot among Boston's musical elite, but then they reunited in the 2000s and set the high standard for rock comebacks with a series of albums at least as strong as the early classics. Eat your hearts out, Strokes.
5. Boston
What can I say? Boston's debut is mainly remembered for selling 17 million copies and being Boston's only good album, but what an album it is. The production has aged poorly enough for cooler bands to goof on its songs, but they still listened, and were better off for it. As late '70s hard rock, it ranks with KISS and Blue Öyster Cult.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
G N' R Lies: "Mama Kin"
If we're counting Live ?!*@ Like a Suicide as GNR's debut, "Mama Kin" appears on two of the world's most beloved hard rock bands' first albums.
From Aerosmith, 1973:
From Live ?!*@ Like a Suicide, 1986:
After Rose Tattoo, Aerosmith was the second band that Guns N' Roses honored and obliterated by covering them on Live ?!*@ Like a Suicide. This time, it wasn't chops or charisma that gave GNR the distinct advantage, two things that Aerosmith has in droves. It was mainly something that that Aerosmith had that GNR didn't--a saxophone.
The saxophone may be the most polarizing instrument in all of rock n' roll, abhorrent in nearly every instance yet transcendent on Kid A, Cure for Pain and Bill Clinton's Arsenio Hall Show appearance. The A.V. Club and WNYC's Soundcheck have explored the sax's influence with simultaneous awe and scorn. For every Rolling Stones song with Sonny Rollins, there seem to be a thousand Kenny Gs. Aerosmith is one of the only rock bands that can make a saxophone work, and their "Mama Kin" is competent. But nobody listens to rock music for competence. "Competent" would be The Silver Bullet band, whom Aerosmith sound most like on "Mama Kin."
On Lies, "Mama Kin" comes right after "Move to the City," a GNR staple with gritty lyrics, a menacing progression, and yes--a saxophone. In that context, I like "Mama Kin" even more, knowing that Guns N' Roses had access to a saxophone and chose not to use it.
Joe Perry, whose band was taking Guns N' Roses out on tour the year that Lies was released, may have noticed. "I heard a lot of Aerosmith in them, which meant I also heard a lot of bands that came before us," Perry noted in Rolling Stone. "And I remember being a little jealous, because they were really hitting the nail on the head."
From Aerosmith, 1973:
From Live ?!*@ Like a Suicide, 1986:
After Rose Tattoo, Aerosmith was the second band that Guns N' Roses honored and obliterated by covering them on Live ?!*@ Like a Suicide. This time, it wasn't chops or charisma that gave GNR the distinct advantage, two things that Aerosmith has in droves. It was mainly something that that Aerosmith had that GNR didn't--a saxophone.
The saxophone may be the most polarizing instrument in all of rock n' roll, abhorrent in nearly every instance yet transcendent on Kid A, Cure for Pain and Bill Clinton's Arsenio Hall Show appearance. The A.V. Club and WNYC's Soundcheck have explored the sax's influence with simultaneous awe and scorn. For every Rolling Stones song with Sonny Rollins, there seem to be a thousand Kenny Gs. Aerosmith is one of the only rock bands that can make a saxophone work, and their "Mama Kin" is competent. But nobody listens to rock music for competence. "Competent" would be The Silver Bullet band, whom Aerosmith sound most like on "Mama Kin."
On Lies, "Mama Kin" comes right after "Move to the City," a GNR staple with gritty lyrics, a menacing progression, and yes--a saxophone. In that context, I like "Mama Kin" even more, knowing that Guns N' Roses had access to a saxophone and chose not to use it.
Joe Perry, whose band was taking Guns N' Roses out on tour the year that Lies was released, may have noticed. "I heard a lot of Aerosmith in them, which meant I also heard a lot of bands that came before us," Perry noted in Rolling Stone. "And I remember being a little jealous, because they were really hitting the nail on the head."
Friday, January 4, 2013
ZZ Top, "Just Got Paid"
More than any other rock band, ZZ Top has the world figured out. The same three guys for over forty years, setting standards for the perfect amount of chords, styles, dances, cars, girls, fashions, guest appearances and hand motions for a rock band to have. They had the prescience to hop into synth-rock in the '80s, and the sense to stay away from the '90s alternative. There's never too much or too little with Billy Gibbons, Dusty Hill and Frank Beard. Drama, conflict, excess--the themes that most rock bands count on are nowhere to be found on ZZ Top records.
"Just Got Paid," an album track from 1972's Rio Grande Mud, predated both Aerosmith and AC/DC in inserting the blues into hard rock, and unlike either of those bands' songs (or nearly all Zeppelin, for that matter), "Just Got Paid" could have been released on Chess Records. It's Top'd up with a slide guitar solo and a breakdown, and it rocks hard enough for Mastodon, Steve Albini and Ministry to have all covered it. Each version, even in Ministry's melodramatic hands and Albini's abrasiveness, brings out the tres hombres in its performer, proof that ZZ Top's composure isn't just in the stars, it's in the songs.
"Just Got Paid," an album track from 1972's Rio Grande Mud, predated both Aerosmith and AC/DC in inserting the blues into hard rock, and unlike either of those bands' songs (or nearly all Zeppelin, for that matter), "Just Got Paid" could have been released on Chess Records. It's Top'd up with a slide guitar solo and a breakdown, and it rocks hard enough for Mastodon, Steve Albini and Ministry to have all covered it. Each version, even in Ministry's melodramatic hands and Albini's abrasiveness, brings out the tres hombres in its performer, proof that ZZ Top's composure isn't just in the stars, it's in the songs.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Steven Tyler: J-j-jaded
A few weeks into its shelf life, Aerosmith's new album has fallen off the charts without a hit that Columbia Records didn't pay for. None of the shows on their current tour have been selling out. Steven Tyler is reportedly blaming the label, which is easy to understand. He's made bad albums (Just Push Play, Nine Lives) and released overwrought singles before ("I Don't Want to Miss a Thing"), but those have been hits, too. Why not Music From Another Dimension?
Honestly, it's no worse than the past few Aerosmith albums, maybe even a little better. But for the first time ever, people know that Aerosmith isn't Steven Tyler's top priority. He's been pushing back this album for six years so that he could spent two seasons as an American Idol judge, promote a self-congratulatory autobio, star in a Hilfiger ad campaign and indulge himself with a solo project that was embarrassing enough to include a Pussycat Doll. In the past month, he's flung himself into feuds with Nicki Minaj (presumably for relevance) and KISS (presumably, shockingly, for credibility) to drum up publicity. Maybe these aren't the most egregious acts ever committed by a formerly great musician, but the fact is that they seem like all he's been doing. Now that Aerosmith's first studio album in eight years is finally out, it feels like an afterthought to years of Steven being Steven.
People don't want to listen to Aerosmith if Steven Tyler doesn't act like he wants to be there. Music fans want to know that their artists are putting thought into their work. "Jaded" may be no "Back in the Saddle," but it felt like Tyler giving it his best shot, which is all he really owes us in exchange for our attention. Music From Another Dimension sounds like he mailed in his vocal tracks from Bermuda. As Rolling Stone's critic pointed out, "Sometimes it's easy to hear that Tyler and his bandmates aren't on the same page, or the same planet. When he duets with his fellow American Idol alum Carrie Underwood for 'Can't Stop Loving You' (rhymes with 'because it's all I wanna do'), it sounds like the rest of Aerosmith is off hiding in the next studio."
For all his career missteps, Mick Jagger is foremost a Stone. Even Bono has gone on record as saying that his music is more important to him than his philanthropy, which is exactly as it should be. Who would want to listen to the biggest rock star in the world if he'd rather be someplace else? Steven Tyler should ask himself the same question as Music From Another Dimension sinks into America's bargain bins.
(Music that actually sounds like it came from another dimension)
Honestly, it's no worse than the past few Aerosmith albums, maybe even a little better. But for the first time ever, people know that Aerosmith isn't Steven Tyler's top priority. He's been pushing back this album for six years so that he could spent two seasons as an American Idol judge, promote a self-congratulatory autobio, star in a Hilfiger ad campaign and indulge himself with a solo project that was embarrassing enough to include a Pussycat Doll. In the past month, he's flung himself into feuds with Nicki Minaj (presumably for relevance) and KISS (presumably, shockingly, for credibility) to drum up publicity. Maybe these aren't the most egregious acts ever committed by a formerly great musician, but the fact is that they seem like all he's been doing. Now that Aerosmith's first studio album in eight years is finally out, it feels like an afterthought to years of Steven being Steven.
People don't want to listen to Aerosmith if Steven Tyler doesn't act like he wants to be there. Music fans want to know that their artists are putting thought into their work. "Jaded" may be no "Back in the Saddle," but it felt like Tyler giving it his best shot, which is all he really owes us in exchange for our attention. Music From Another Dimension sounds like he mailed in his vocal tracks from Bermuda. As Rolling Stone's critic pointed out, "Sometimes it's easy to hear that Tyler and his bandmates aren't on the same page, or the same planet. When he duets with his fellow American Idol alum Carrie Underwood for 'Can't Stop Loving You' (rhymes with 'because it's all I wanna do'), it sounds like the rest of Aerosmith is off hiding in the next studio."
For all his career missteps, Mick Jagger is foremost a Stone. Even Bono has gone on record as saying that his music is more important to him than his philanthropy, which is exactly as it should be. Who would want to listen to the biggest rock star in the world if he'd rather be someplace else? Steven Tyler should ask himself the same question as Music From Another Dimension sinks into America's bargain bins.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Song of the Day: Janet Jackson, "Black Cat"
Near the end of 2011, Quinn, Erica and I put together a playlist dedicated to the feline. Other than a few stray choices (Pantera's "Cat Scratch Fever," smoking the original), metal doesn't offer much for B. Kliban's favorite animal, or at least anything that can prowl with "The Love Cats," "Cool for Cats" or "China Cat Sunflower." Somehow, I lost track of one of the best metal songs ever recorded by a non-metal artist.
Not only could "Black Cat" have appeared on Aerosmith's classic Pump, released the same year, it would have been the heaviest song on the album.
Instead, we get "Black Cat" on Rhythm Nation 1814, Janet Jackson's 1989 new jack swing blockbuster. Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis get nearly all of the songwriting credit, but one thing that I love about "Black Cat" it was Janet's first hit song that she wrote herself. Four albums into her R & B career, Janet takes more Control by inflicting a hard charged riff on her pop senses. Pop and metal haven't been this close ever since, probably because nobody can do it better.
Not only could "Black Cat" have appeared on Aerosmith's classic Pump, released the same year, it would have been the heaviest song on the album.
Instead, we get "Black Cat" on Rhythm Nation 1814, Janet Jackson's 1989 new jack swing blockbuster. Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis get nearly all of the songwriting credit, but one thing that I love about "Black Cat" it was Janet's first hit song that she wrote herself. Four albums into her R & B career, Janet takes more Control by inflicting a hard charged riff on her pop senses. Pop and metal haven't been this close ever since, probably because nobody can do it better.
Friday, July 13, 2012
Iron Maiden at the Prudential Center
Mayhem Fest? Forget it. Summer Slaughter? Nice try. You will not see a better show--club, park, arena, stadium or basement, than the one that Iron Maiden and Alice Cooper took to the Prudential Center last Monday.
Long lauded as one of the finest live acts in metal, Maiden only seem to get better as Nicko McBrain turns 60. Someone should hire the whole band as anti-drug spokesmen. Each of the bandmates turned in athletic performances that shamed anything Aerosmith, Van Halen, Black Sabbath or Judas Priest can pull off, to say nothing of nearly all artists young enough to be Steve Harris' children. Maiden's chops are nonpareil, and their stage set, a refinement of their 1989 Seventh Son of a Seventh Son tour spectacle, speaks volumes for the artistry of high-budget rock shows.
Of course there was also risk, which arrived in the form of one of rock music's most legendarily charismatic frontmen opening the show. The irreplaceable Cooper took the first set, packing all the best elements from the show he's spent his life perfecting into one ideal hour-long set. Little has changed about Alice since you last saw him, including the fact that no one plays theatrical shock-rock as well as he does. The swordplay, chambers, guillotine and Frankenstein's monster were all there, along with some staged routines with the road crew and a reliably hit-heavy setlist. His band, all of whom looked younger than Welcome to My Nightmare, indulged in the fun.
As a showman, Alice is refreshingly old school. More than a harbinger to Rob Zombie, he's a throwback to Screamin' Jay Hawkins, dead set on delivering the best show that music and Halloween props can give you. Closing with "School's Out," Cooper added the chorus to "Another Brick in the Wall, Part 2" to the finale. It clarified both his influence on Pink Floyd and the fact that he articulated school life better than Roger Waters.
Following Alice Cooper's act would be devastating anything less than the very best artists, but Maiden passed with flying Union Jacks. Entering to "Moonchild," the band embarked on a two-hour set of their best songs. "The Number of the Beast," "Wasted Years" and "2 Minutes to Midnight" are all pillars of metal, yet underappreciated by anyone who's never seen them performed by their sculptors.
Bruce Dickinson, arguably metal's greatest frontman to this day, egged the crowd on like a showbiz pro, taking a friendly jabs at our upcoming holiday (the one where we declared independecne from his country) between acing every note of his larynx-pushing vocals. Dave Murray, Adrian Smith and Janick Gers perpetually slung their guitars around their shoulders, racing up and down the stage set while joined by Eddie's likeness on a Sphinx, monumental statues and a zombie soldier. It was the kind of show that only a few bands can compete with, none of whom come close to Maiden's songcraft.
Iron Maiden tours seem to rotate between "classics" and "new songs" setlists, and with all respect to The Final Frontier, the band is best seen playing their best songs. In their compositional prime, Maiden's were as un-wanky as power metal gets, with relatively relaxed solos and only a few songs hitting the eight-minute mark. By re-enacting their Seventh Son tour with better proficiency and production values, Maiden blessed us with rarely-played tracks from the 1988 release alongside stompers like "Run to the Hills" and "The Trooper." Rules were bended to include '90s glories like "Fear of the Dark" and "Afraid to Shoot Strangers," lest you believe it was a nostalgia show.
After an encore that break wasn't long enough to find a bathroom, Maiden returned with "Aces High." Ending by appeasing Paul Di'Anno fans with "Running Free," the band bowed and left the dazed audience to find our way out while "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" played on the arena PA. If you only see one metal band, try Iron Maiden, and if you only see them once, now is the time.
Long lauded as one of the finest live acts in metal, Maiden only seem to get better as Nicko McBrain turns 60. Someone should hire the whole band as anti-drug spokesmen. Each of the bandmates turned in athletic performances that shamed anything Aerosmith, Van Halen, Black Sabbath or Judas Priest can pull off, to say nothing of nearly all artists young enough to be Steve Harris' children. Maiden's chops are nonpareil, and their stage set, a refinement of their 1989 Seventh Son of a Seventh Son tour spectacle, speaks volumes for the artistry of high-budget rock shows.
Of course there was also risk, which arrived in the form of one of rock music's most legendarily charismatic frontmen opening the show. The irreplaceable Cooper took the first set, packing all the best elements from the show he's spent his life perfecting into one ideal hour-long set. Little has changed about Alice since you last saw him, including the fact that no one plays theatrical shock-rock as well as he does. The swordplay, chambers, guillotine and Frankenstein's monster were all there, along with some staged routines with the road crew and a reliably hit-heavy setlist. His band, all of whom looked younger than Welcome to My Nightmare, indulged in the fun.
As a showman, Alice is refreshingly old school. More than a harbinger to Rob Zombie, he's a throwback to Screamin' Jay Hawkins, dead set on delivering the best show that music and Halloween props can give you. Closing with "School's Out," Cooper added the chorus to "Another Brick in the Wall, Part 2" to the finale. It clarified both his influence on Pink Floyd and the fact that he articulated school life better than Roger Waters.
Following Alice Cooper's act would be devastating anything less than the very best artists, but Maiden passed with flying Union Jacks. Entering to "Moonchild," the band embarked on a two-hour set of their best songs. "The Number of the Beast," "Wasted Years" and "2 Minutes to Midnight" are all pillars of metal, yet underappreciated by anyone who's never seen them performed by their sculptors.
Bruce Dickinson, arguably metal's greatest frontman to this day, egged the crowd on like a showbiz pro, taking a friendly jabs at our upcoming holiday (the one where we declared independecne from his country) between acing every note of his larynx-pushing vocals. Dave Murray, Adrian Smith and Janick Gers perpetually slung their guitars around their shoulders, racing up and down the stage set while joined by Eddie's likeness on a Sphinx, monumental statues and a zombie soldier. It was the kind of show that only a few bands can compete with, none of whom come close to Maiden's songcraft.
Iron Maiden tours seem to rotate between "classics" and "new songs" setlists, and with all respect to The Final Frontier, the band is best seen playing their best songs. In their compositional prime, Maiden's were as un-wanky as power metal gets, with relatively relaxed solos and only a few songs hitting the eight-minute mark. By re-enacting their Seventh Son tour with better proficiency and production values, Maiden blessed us with rarely-played tracks from the 1988 release alongside stompers like "Run to the Hills" and "The Trooper." Rules were bended to include '90s glories like "Fear of the Dark" and "Afraid to Shoot Strangers," lest you believe it was a nostalgia show.
After an encore that break wasn't long enough to find a bathroom, Maiden returned with "Aces High." Ending by appeasing Paul Di'Anno fans with "Running Free," the band bowed and left the dazed audience to find our way out while "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" played on the arena PA. If you only see one metal band, try Iron Maiden, and if you only see them once, now is the time.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Six Worst Mother's Day Songs
Mother's Day mixes are as much fun to make as they are to listen to, mainly for rediscovering the trove of great songs that would be terrible for the final playlist. Some of these songs are better than ones that made the cut, just not the kind of music that I'd dedicate to Ma Apatoff. One day these will get their own mix CD, but until then, here are the six worst Mother's Day songs.
Body Count, "Momma's Gotta Die Tonight"
Body Count's first LP is the Scarface of metal--too over the top to take seriously (no matter what Dan Quayle says) and somehow enduring. Ice-T's monologue is about four minutes too long, yet the song would be much worse without it.
Guns N' Roses, "Mama Kin"
Want to make it to hard rock stardom? Put "Mama Kin" on your first record--it worked for Aerosmith and Guns N' Roses. GNR improve on the original by picking up speed and removing the sucksophone, giving us a Stonesy rocker that might actually work on a Mother's Day mix, if not for Axl's introduction.
Mastodon, "Mother Puncher"
I love hearing Mastodon throw all their weight into a progression that plays like it's about to sweep your feet out from under you. From the sound of this song, a mother puncher is a hurricane at sea.
Misfits, "Mommy, Can I Go Out and Kill Tonight?"
"May I?"
Suicidal Tendencies, "I Saw Your Mommy"
"...and your mommy's dead." The second-most popular song from ST's first and best album is a gleeful exercise in good taste. In high school I put this on a mix for a girl, and learned to never do that again.
Queen, "Tie Your Mother Down"
Proof that if not for all that ambition, Queen would've made a pretty great AC/DC. And that Freddie Mercury and Brian May can make anything sound like fun.
Body Count, "Momma's Gotta Die Tonight"
Body Count's first LP is the Scarface of metal--too over the top to take seriously (no matter what Dan Quayle says) and somehow enduring. Ice-T's monologue is about four minutes too long, yet the song would be much worse without it.
Guns N' Roses, "Mama Kin"
Want to make it to hard rock stardom? Put "Mama Kin" on your first record--it worked for Aerosmith and Guns N' Roses. GNR improve on the original by picking up speed and removing the sucksophone, giving us a Stonesy rocker that might actually work on a Mother's Day mix, if not for Axl's introduction.
Mastodon, "Mother Puncher"
I love hearing Mastodon throw all their weight into a progression that plays like it's about to sweep your feet out from under you. From the sound of this song, a mother puncher is a hurricane at sea.
Misfits, "Mommy, Can I Go Out and Kill Tonight?"
"May I?"
Suicidal Tendencies, "I Saw Your Mommy"
"...and your mommy's dead." The second-most popular song from ST's first and best album is a gleeful exercise in good taste. In high school I put this on a mix for a girl, and learned to never do that again.
Queen, "Tie Your Mother Down"
Proof that if not for all that ambition, Queen would've made a pretty great AC/DC. And that Freddie Mercury and Brian May can make anything sound like fun.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Beastie Week: "No Sleep till Brooklyn"
One of the the best songs on Licensed to Ill takes its name from Motörhead, its riff from AC/DC and its solo from Kerry King. Who wants to tell me that the Beastie Boys aren't metal?
Maybe the Beasties themselves. Their 1986 "No Sleep till Brooklyn" video mocked the fashionable hair metal of bands like Whitesnake.
It's a funny song and video (wait for the guy in a gorilla suit,) but the Beasties are serious artists. Their greatest pop-metal mockery was in the music itself, a diamond-solid tribute to genuine hard rock and the greatest of all boroughs. Run-D.M.C. and Aerosmith's "Walk This Way," released the same year, gets all the credit for bridging rap and rock. But I prefer "No Sleep," which created an actual rap-rock song, rather than meeting the two halfway at pop.
"No Sleep Till Brooklyn" is harder to define than "Fight for Your Right" or "Brass Monkey," and it didn't hit as big. But it carved out a niche that a multi-platinum genre still hasn't caught up to.
Maybe the Beasties themselves. Their 1986 "No Sleep till Brooklyn" video mocked the fashionable hair metal of bands like Whitesnake.
It's a funny song and video (wait for the guy in a gorilla suit,) but the Beasties are serious artists. Their greatest pop-metal mockery was in the music itself, a diamond-solid tribute to genuine hard rock and the greatest of all boroughs. Run-D.M.C. and Aerosmith's "Walk This Way," released the same year, gets all the credit for bridging rap and rock. But I prefer "No Sleep," which created an actual rap-rock song, rather than meeting the two halfway at pop.
"No Sleep Till Brooklyn" is harder to define than "Fight for Your Right" or "Brass Monkey," and it didn't hit as big. But it carved out a niche that a multi-platinum genre still hasn't caught up to.
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