Reformation
In a year that has been dominated by the reformations of some of the biggest bands in rock history (AIC, Pavement, Rival Schools, hell even Led Zep) an announcement crept out the other night that will make absolutely no impact on the worldwide music scene but managed to make me and a very select group of metalheads happy as a collective of pigs in excrement. Will Haven have reformed.
Will who? You may well ask. Will Haven (not a person) were a band from Sacramento, California, friends of the Deftones and Far, and purveyors of one of the most ungodly rackets ever known to man or beast. Thunderous and tectonic riffs and the guttural and hugely emotional roar of lead singer Grady Avenell. They split a few years back and reformed again with another singer, but never had the chemistry of when Grady was in the band. But now he is back.
I met the band when they were touring their third album,Carpe Diem. They were playing at the Manchester Academy, and myself and my friends Rich and Barker arrived in plenty of time before the gig, as we wanted to see both the support acts, but also because we were determined to go backstage and meet our heroes in the flesh, young and lacking in shame as we were.
Our friend Moira had worked at the venue and had told us a secret way to get backstage without hassle, but when we arrived we quickly found that a redesign had made this nigh on possible. So after a while we retired to the bar. We had been there only a few minutes when in walked the band, minus Grady. We tried to remain as calm as possible, and were going to wait for them to sit down before we approached them, but then their guitarist Jeff looked over and spotted Barker's home-made Far T Shirt, and they all made their way over.
They asked if they could sit with us, and we stammered our appreciation, and then for about half an hour they sat with us, chilling and talking and laughing at our jokes. They may have just been a struggling metal band who still had their day jobs back at home, but this was like meeting the Who for us. They were the sweetest and loveliest guys you could meet. Later, we saw them again as we milled about between support acts, and I met Grady, who took my song suggestion and gave it pride of place as their opening encore song.
Of all the bands I have met they remain my favourite, no matter that nobody has ever heard of them. They were probably shocked to find that a bunch of kids from the other side of the Atlantic had been so humbled to meet a band that struggled to even get a record deal in their native land, but not as shocked as I was to find that the old adage of 'never meet your idols' can thankfully be absolutely wrong.
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Last night was the climax (oo-er) of Gray's 48 hour tweetathon, and in the last few hours he got loads of high profile support from the likes of Jonathan Ross (who even donated £50) and he smashed his £1000 target with hours to go. I was there for the last hour and I must admit that everyone got a bit emotional at the end, when Gray posted as his final tweet the theme from Cheers. Well done mate, and lets hope all those new followers stick around to check out Cross Blogination!
Tomorrow I will be doing something a bit different as it is Blog Action Day in support of action on Climate Change. I haven't decided fully what I am doing for it yet, but if you have a blog and would like to get involved, check it out.
Bloomin’ UNICEF and other absurdities
So it seems that UNICEF have named a goodwill ambassador in Orlando Bloom, yes he of the vacant stare and 'unique' approach to acting (as in making sure as to never display emotion on that face of his, lest he develop wrinkle lines.) Interesting choice. Perhaps they plan on using his perfect forehead as a background for their projector when they come to make PowerPoint presentations. Or perhaps he will put the funny ears back on and go around shooting hunger with his bow and arrow.
Also John Barnes, purveyor of wonderful football and terrible rapping, has been confirmed to be involved in the next world cup, not by coming out of retirement to use those wonderful feet, but by re-doing his infamous rap for the official song. Excellent. So in 1990 we had Barnes in the prime of life, utterly unable to convincingly rap. Now we have to hear him make even more of a balls up of it now that he's old enough to be the father of any of the chart's successful rappers.
On top of this, twitter has caught fire today with the news that some legal firm put an injunction against The Guardian to stop them from reporting on a Parliamentary question. It turns out it all had something to do with a company called Trafigura polluting the hell out of the coast of Africa.
This sort of censorship of our own Government is obviously 'a very bad thing' but turns out its a bad thing mainly for Trafigura and its Lawyers, who now have hundreds of citizen journalists on their tail, plus the Lib Dems raising questions over the whole affair in Parliament today. Suddenly a story that would have been reported only in the Guardian and probably easily forgotten is now being chased by every single paper and reported worldwide through twitter. Funny how things work, eh?
Oh, and the MP's expenses scandal has raised its head again, with the Government's report leading to even more money being paid back, including our erstwhile PM paying back £12,415. And Manchester Airport have introduced security measures that verge on the pornographic. And Michael Jackson's estate never thought to see if the rights to his 'new' single actually belong to someone else, like, say Paul Anka. Who wrote it with Jackson for his own album. Looks like Paul Anka is about to become even richer.
There are days when the absolute absurdity of the world we live in really becomes apparant. Today is one of those days. It's lovely.
Deafness and a Deftness of Touch
For some reason the cold that I've had for what seems like an age has spread to my ears, leaving me in a cloud of half heard phrases and general befuddlement. I can only hear what people are saying to me if I am looking at them when I say it, which is leading to some interesting conversations at work, and me missing out when people offer to make me a coffee.
Other than that not a lot to report in the world of Paul, except that Ellen and I are off to see Simon Amstell next week for her birthday, so that should be fun. Oh, and Gray from Cross Blogination is, as I type one third of the way through his marathon 48 hour tweetathon on twitter. It's pretty impressive given that he's already had two PC's die on him, but I'm really looking forward to the point tomorrow when he stops being able to form complete sentences and starts to converse in single letters and emoticons.
If you applaud his effort then by all means to do watch his progress and donate some money on his Just Giving page. He's up to nearly £500 so far and if he gets to £1000 he's going to get a tattoo. It's all for a good cause.
I don't know about you, but I'm starting to suffer a little bit of Celebrity Death fatigue. With the announcement that Stephen Gately had died from 'not in any way mysterious circumststances' the sympathetic mode of my brain is no longer able to function and goes straight to the point where I start to make jokes. When I got to work today I mentioned that it was probably the remaining Boyzone members bumping him off to increase record sales and was met with nothing more than contemptuous glares.
Of course it's very sad that someone of his age should be cut down in the prime of life, and I do respect the impact he had on the acceptance of gay rights in this country, but at the end of the day he was a singer in a truly awful band whose main accomplishment was to spawn the career of Ronan Keating. I'm just saying. And now we're going to spend the next month avoiding every single music channel, lest we bump into a Boyzone memorial marathon.
Cross Blogination 4: Tool – Ænima
Cross Blogination is a project I’m doing with Diary Of A Ledger, the idea being every week one of us will recommend to the other one of our all time favourite albums, which we will then both write a review for. This week it's my turn again, so it's time for my favourite album of all time.
This is to me the greatest example of what a band or artist can do within the confines of the 'album.' It is the album I recommend more than any other to random people when I meet them, or even to indie loving people I meet on the internet. It is the album that taught me the possibilities of what 'heavy' music could do. Hell, it even got me into the late great Bill Hicks. Trying to sum up how I feel about this album will be pretty difficult, and even harder in a short space. So apologies.
I had heard of Tool but not heard any of their stuff when my friend who worked in HMV in Sunderland recommended this album to me with such gusto that I felt I couldn't refuse. I took it home and by the end of the first track, 'Stinkfist', I was absolutely blown away. Sounding unlike any other band I had heard before they melded the thick riffs of Adam Jones with a deftness and subtlety I hadn't heard before in 'Heavy Rock'. The drums alternate between jazzy tribal rhythms and thunderous attacks, with the bass and guitar layered over the top to create a clinical and yet warm sound. Technically Tool are amazing, but never 'showey.' And then there was the voice of one Maynard James Keenan.
All great bands need a great front-man, but Tool have one of the most unique talents in Maynard. With a range that would put every contestant on every X Factor to shame (check out the note he hits on 'Pushit') coupled with a wonderfully comic playfulness and a deadpan delivery, there are several times when his voice makes all of the hairs stand up over my whole body. And then you work out what he's singing about and you can't help but smile.
For instance, take opener 'Stinkfist', which has to be the world's most beautiful peon to anal fisting, with the immortal lines 'Elbow deep inside the borderline. Show me that you love me and that we belong together. Shoulder deep within the borderline. Relax. Turn around and take my hand.' These are delivered with a straight deadpan voice over clattering great riffs.
Next up is Eulogy, which starts with a bewildering and tender instrumental lead in, which is soon shackled to a dirty great riff. As it twists and turns it builds slowly around Maynard's lyric, which initially seems to be about his late friend Bill Hicks, but then morphs into a quasi-religious allegory about how the people we worship will let us down.
Bill Hicks was a huge influence on this album. Maynard and Bill had become close friends in the period leading up to Bill's death, and this album was recorded in the period just afterward. The artwork has a bizarre paining of Bill, and his act is the basis of many different strands of songs, most notably the title track, which is based around Bill's sketch about LA falling into the ocean and leaving only Arizona Bay, and the last track Third Eye, a fifteen minute sprawling epic about the joys of hallucinogens.
The band are at their most mischievous during the several interludes which tie the album together. 'Message To Harry Manback' is a surreal piano line over which the band overlay a real message left on their answerphone by a crazed Italian fan, while the sound of birds plays softly in the background. 'Die Eier Von Satan' is downright creepy though, as pre-Rammstein industrial music is overlaid with an austere German voice. Slowly it builds and builds, with crowd noise greeting more and more enthusiastically the words spoken. When the line 'Bei zweihundert Grad für fünfzehn Minuten backen und KEINE EIER!' is barked to a massive cheer, I must admit I found myself wondering exactly what the intentions of this band were. That was until I went online and found the lyrics translated to a recipe for vegan hash brownies.
By far my favourite moment of the album is the centrepiece of the album, 'Hooker With A Penis' the heaviest song on display, and the best comeback to an insult ever committed to record. Having been told by a fan that they had 'sold out' Maynard spits out a diatribe as to the idiocy of this argument. (After all, they remained signed to an independent label, made no advance copies available for radio and plastered the cover with a sticker saying 'No number 1 f**king hit singles'.) I could print the whole lyrics, but I'll try to limit myself to these choice lines;
"All you know about me is what I've sold you, dumb fuck.
I sold out long before you ever heard my name. I sold my soul to make a record, dip shit, and you bought one.All you read and wear or see and hear on TV is a product
Begging for your fatass dirty dollar so...Shut up and buy my new record send more money
Fuck you, buddy."
There is a wonderful flow to this album, where little interludes build into huge slabs of guitars, and the mood fluctuates constantly between the surreal and the divine. Take the way 'Intermission' leads into 'Jimmy' by taking the main riff of the latter and turns it into a carnival theme.
There are no bad songs here, and while it is indulgent throughout the course of its whole run, it never comes across as pious or boring. Throughout, Maynard's voice swirls and dazzles, its fragile beauty elevating the music underneath it to a wider scale.
If there is ever an argument for the prefect album I will state the case for this album even if I have to kill every Beatles and Beach Boys fan on the planet to do so. That's how much this album means to me. Uncompromising and uncompromised, this is a truly unique moment in music, and one that even the band themselves have never been able to match.
5+/5
So I guess you could say that I like it. Now go over to Gray's blog and see what he makes of it. If he didn't like it, I'm going to subject him to some of the heaviest brutal metal I can find next time.
Tool - Ænema [uncut version]
Happy Happy Joy Joy
I'm in quite a good mood today. Work is not sucking quite so hard at the moment, and a few things have been cleared up and whatnot. Secondly, I'm still buzzing from last night's 'epic night of telly.' True Blood was spectacular, I loved how well drawn the various characters are, and the tension is very well managed. Generation Kill was very good too, and Criminal Justice is excellent so far as well, even if it remains the most depressing piece of drama ever made.
I have also now officially finished my first module for my OU course, so I'm just waiting for my final mark and then it's onto the second module. My average mark is around 70% so far, and that's even taking into consideration the massive mess I made of one assignment.
On top of this, I appear to have gotten involved in yet another 'unnamed online project' with someone from Twitter. I have promised not to say too much about this while we are still in the process of making ludicrous statements of intent to each other, but it promises to be the bestest and greatest thing that teh Internet has ever seen. Even better than this blog that you are reading right now.
I know, you're sat there right now, reading this (look at you, don't you look nice today?) and wondering to yourself, how can that even be possible!? Well, it is. And we will show you, just as soon as we stop talking about it and start to do it.
And if that's not enough 'Epic Awesome' for you, then you will be pleased to hear that this week the benevolent First Buses have extended one of their bus routes to take me from my house directly to my work. No more getting off the bus and walking the last fifteen minutes for me. No. I think this is their way of apologising to me for all of the miserable joyless bastards they have been employing over the last few years. You know, the ones who see that you only have a ten pound note (still legal tender as far as I'm aware) and then tut and shake their heads as though you have defiled their grandmother and then shaved their cat on the way out.
So, to recap, it's a good day, and I am in a good mood. Which is nice. How are you?
Criminal Justice
As I mentioned yesterday, last night saw the return of BBC's week long drama Criminal Justice. Last year's installment saw Ben Wishaw as the frail accused struggling to clear his name. This year we get Maxine Peake as the frail woman entangled in the criminal justice system.
On first reflection last night's episode is an entirely different kettle of fish from last year. Wishaw's character had no recollection of his alleged crime, whereas this year we are left in no doubt as to the crime and who committed it. Instead we are left with an ethical dilemma which has no simple answers. Over the course of this week I am sure that we will be shown every side of the argument, whilst at the same time examining the way that women are (mis)treated by the British judicial system.
After this first episode I was reminded of exactly how good we Brits can be at drama when we really put a lot of effort into it. Shorn of the need for resolution that so plagues American drama (aside from the Wire, obviously) our dramas can have room to breathe and really get into questions of morality, not just of society but of our own individual morality.
I wont go into much detail, in case any of you are planning on catching up on iPlayer, but this drama shows you just enough to think you've made your mind up before pulling the rug from underneath you and making you question everything you had thought, which is no mean feat. Even the most ardent feminist (and I count myself as amongst their number) would find it hard to sympathise with the actions of this woman, but your heart goes out to her nonetheless.
Holding all this together are predictably wonderful performances by the great and good of British dramatic actors. Maxine Peake manages to infuse a pretty unlikable character with real tenderness, while Matthew Macfadyen keeps the line between caring father and despotic husband so finely that when he steps into the latter, it's with a menace that is shocking. On top of this are great supporting performances by the likes of Sophie Okonedo, Denis Lawson and Kate Hardie. The two standouts from the first episode were Steve MacKintosh's Sexton, who is such an evil shitbag that you would be excused for wanting to strangle your television, and Alice Sykes, who as 13 year old Ella, grounds the whole episode as the daughter unsure of what has happened to her life in such a short period of time.
All in all a bright start, as good as last year's jumping off point, and certainly enough to keep me glued for the rest of the week, if only to see if they've worked out how to finish the story without being lynched by their audience.
Tis the season for new telly. (Fa la la la)
I am, it has to be said, a little excited. For although Autumn ushers in an end to the warm weather and replaces it with biting chill and endless leaves thrown in your face by a vengeful deity (or just the wind, possibly) it does also herald an end to the drought of decent telly, as the schedulers presume that everyone has returned from the beer garden they have spent the summer inhabiting and are willing to dedicate endless weeks on several narrative threads.
First up was X Factor, which has defied its appalling start to become as insanely addictive as it always has been. The first new American debut is here too, in the shape of Flashforward, which Five seem to have secured extremely early access to (launching at the same time here as in America.) First impressions are that it has the potential to be as addictive as the first series of Lost and Heroes were, but also that it could go into a ridiculous tailspin of confused plotlines and hammy acting as Heroes did in series two.
My only question is whether the Oceanic Airlines billboard in the pilot was a nod to the geeks out there, or a genuine attempt to link it into Lost's dramatic reality? In which case we may find the whole flashforward was as a result of Locke tripping over a wire on the island. Come to think of it, what was up with the kangaroo in LA? Or does ABC have a new clause that all new dramas must have on out of place animal in its pilots in order to confuse the viewer?
But this week is when the most promising series are launched apon us. Last year Criminal Justice was one of the most engrossing dramas right until the godawful last episode, when the writers proceeded to jump every shark they could find in the aquarium. This year it follows the same pattern of playing out over five nights, and I really hope they can maintain the quality of last years first four episodes, and this time provide a conclusion that doesn't make the audience feel as dirty and used as I felt last year.
Elsewhere this week, channel 4 brings us two (allegedly) top drawer American imports which have already been seen on satellite, True Blood and Generation Kill, one after the other on Thursday nights. Now, since two of my favourite things in the whole world are vampire myths and the writing of David Simon, it's a fair bet that I will enjoy these enough to soil myself at some point during the evening. Just so you know, this will be the standard I will be looking for. Don't let me down, quality American imports.
There are more coming in the pipeline over the next few weeks and months, such as the return of Dexter and Heroes (I'm a sucker, I know) but as one week goes, it's the best we've seen in months. I realise that as a thirty year old man, being this excited about sitting at home makes me a very sad person, but these are the tastes I have been dealt.
Cross Blogination 3: Miles Davis – Kind Of Blue
Cross Blogination is a project I’m doing with Diary Of A Ledger, the idea being every week one of us will recommend to the other one of our all time favourite albums, which we will then both write a review for. We have since amended this to allow recommendations every third week from one or our readers. This is the third review in the series, suggested by @butterflygrrrl on twitter.
Our first suggestion from someone else, and we couldn't have been handed anything more outside of my comfort zone. I dabbled a little in Jazz back in University, but it never really took. My main problem is that it is hard to shake the stereotype, and sure enough, within about 30 seconds of opener 'So What' the image that pops into my mind is of the Fast Show jazz sketch, old men with black jumpers sitting on stools saying 'nice.'
For the first half of this song all I can think is that I'd rather be listening to just about anything else, when all of a sudden, without me even noticing, that feeling leaves and is replaced by a kind of serenity as the trumpets and the wandering double bass click together. Suddenly I'm not in the Jazz club any more, but instead I am in a Chandler novel. And then it strikes you, this is a brilliant album.
It's not hard to see why this album is held in such acclaim. 'So What' and 'Freddie Freeloader' are sublime and interesting pieces of mood music, but it's really when the centrepiece to the album 'Blue In Green' rolls around that this becomes truly spectacular. From the first blow of Davis' trumpet the evocation of emotion that shines through is heartbreaking, Bill Evans' piano underpinning everything with such a wistful melancholy that it's almost impossible to do anything else than listen.
'All Blues' takes the tempo back up slightly (but not a huge amount, the stately pace of the album is maintained throughout) but injects a strange menace to proceedings, the piano again setting the mood, before 'Flamenco Sketch' rounds things off with the sort of vibe that seems to call to mind a lonely old drunk marking the passage of time with a bottle of bourbon. But, you know, in a romantic way.
I don't know what I was expecting from this album, having heard so much about it, and especially given its iconic status as 'one of the greatest albums ever made' but it certainly doesn't disappoint. If I'm brutally honest, I doubt I've found an album that I'll listen to every day, but certainly it's a keeper, something to be saved for special moments and certain moods.
4/5
I must admit, I'm really curious to see what Gray makes of this as well, so don't forget to head over to Diary Of A Ledger and see. Next week it's my turn, and to my mind one of the most perfect rock albums ever made!
CD Review: Alice in Chains – Black Gives Way To Blue
It's turning out to be a bit of a music-heavy week here on BOTM (cross blogination will be here tomorrow), so if you don't share my tastes then apologies, but I couldn't let these two releases go without note. Two of my favourite bands of the last twenty years, one who has never been dormant, the other returning after the death of its talismanic lead singer.
Alice in Chains - Black Gives Way To Blue
I remember hearing about the death of Layne Staley, one of the most gifted and unique voices of his generation, and being poll-axed. It came on FA cup final day, and my whole house went into a stoned mourning, playing old VHS collections of every live gig and video for hours, barely speaking to each other. It seemed so inevitable and yet so tragic, another example of the needle and the damage done.
But it also robbed the music world of one of its most iconic and interesting bands. One of the true grunge pioneers (indeed they went platinum a good year before Nirvana) their sound was heavy and melodic, melancholy and yet strangely uplifting.
Now, they are back, replete with new singer, William DuVall, and a new album, and from opener 'All Secrets Known' its clear that this is an album with a preoccupation with Layne's death. It is also clear that the band haven't lost their touch, its wistful guitars and downbeat vocal harmonies working just as well as they ever did. DuVall sings in a similar registry to Staley, but never sounds as though he is imitating him, and his voice works effortlessly with Jerry Cantrell's to create the rich harmonies that made AIC stand out in the first place.
By the time second song 'Check My Brain' kicks in, it's also clear that Cantrell's riff writing abilities haven't diminished with time, its stomping chorus riff easily showing the likes of Audioslave and Velvet Revolver how it should be done. 'Last Of My Kind' replicates this chugging stomp with an epic chorus line. When DuVall sings 'I'm the last of my kind, still standing' he's not lying, there is simply nobody out there making music like this any more. Despite reams of copycat bands in the intervening years, nobody does it quite like Alice.
'Your Decision' takes things down a notch and reminds you just how good Cantrell is with melody, before first single 'A Looking In View' returns to pummell the listener with one of the darkest and heaviest riffs not to have been written by Slayer. The trick to a good AIC song is to pit the gloom of its verses against a big epic chorus, and every song here does that with aplomb.
Every song here is of a high enough quality to sit alongside their back catalogue, and that's about the highest complement I can give. By the time the final title track rolls around, replete with cameo from Sir Elton John on piano, you're left with the unquestionable reason why Alice In Chains are back. Because there's simply nobody out there who can touch them when they are at full stride, so why leave that sort of chemistry and talent up on the shelf?
This is an album all about putting demons to rest (the lyrics to 'Black Gives Way To Blue' are beautiful and poignant, and a fitting tribute to their fallen comrade) so here's hoping that they can move on from Layne's death and continue for many years to come. On this evidence, they can quite easily reclaim their mantle as one of the greatest rock bands of all time.
5/5
CD Review: Pearl Jam – Backspacer
It's turning out to be a bit of a music-heavy week here on BOTM (cross blogination will be here tomorrow), so if you don't share my tastes then apologies, but I couldn't let these two releases go without note. Two of my favourite bands of the last twenty years, one who has never been dormant, the other returning after the death of its talismanic lead singer.
Pearl Jam - Backspacer
Unlike Alice In Chains, Pearl Jam have never really been away. Certainly they've had periods where they haven't been as visible as others, but a new album by these once kings of grunge is as reliable as clockwork. And every time it is an event in my household.
Now I'm not going to beat around the bush. Pearl Jam are my favourite band of all time. They have never to my mind released a bad album, and never set a foot wrong. Over the years they have proved themselves to be better than any other band at treating their fanbase as a family, from suing Ticketmaster to lower ticket prices, to their impeccable fan club (which gives away a christmas vinyl every year which is worth more than the price of admission) to making every gig they do available to download.
This trend continues with this album, which gives you access to two full concert downloads from the website along with lavish packaging. Of course all of this is nothing without a good album at its core, and thankfully Backspacer doesn't disappoint.
Opener 'I'm Gonna See My Friend' sets the stall early. Punkier and more upbeat than the last few albums, it brings to mind the Ramones jamming with early REM. Next song 'Got Some' is the kind of song Green Day would be making if they hadn't decided to morph into U2. 'The Fixer' calls to mind Ryan Adams and Springsteen at their most upbeat, a perfect summery pop song.
Every song on this album is a perfectly crafted 3 minute marvel, and over the course of the full 11 songs they manage to cover the breadth of all that is good about rock music, without ever sounding anything other than themselves. 'Johnny Guitar' is the most obviously Pearl Jam tune, with its angular riff underpinned by the always fantastic drumming of Matt Cameron.
'Just Breathe' is reminiscent of Eddie Vedder's solo album, a lovely little tune that leads into the sparkling 'Amongst The Waves,' before the epic 'Unthought Known' dazzles with one of the band's biggest ever chorus'. 'Supersonic' picks up the energy levels again, sounding like the Who jamming with the Ramones. This movement of moods continues perfectly until closer 'The End,' which ends the album as a neat summation in the event it turns out to be their last, a trick they have played for years.
Musically the band are as taut and angular as ever, with Eddie Vedder's lyrics twisting their way around the tunes to make them vital and exciting. For a band as political as Pearl Jam it was inevitable that the removal of Bush would have an impact, and while lyrically there are nods to hope here and there, it's in the overall optimism and joy in these songs that this is most reflected.
My only complaint is that too many of these songs have a slightly throwaway nature to them. There is no 'I Am Mine' or 'Elderly Woman..' here to anchor the album, and as such it's a little forgettable, albeit eminently listenable. It may win them over a few new fans, but realistically if you didn't like them before this isn't going to change your mind. For fans, however, this is a fine continuation of form from one of the most reliable bands around.
4/5
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