Wednesday, February 22, 2012

A Murder of Counting Crows: August and Everything After- Live at Town Hall

Eighteen years after their debut album was released on Geffen records, Counting Crows return to the scene of the crime with August and Everything After- Live at Town Hall. Their first release free of major label obligations, Live at Town Hall is an inspired effort that reconnects the audience to some of the band's most beloved songs. It's a deft move for the band and a great way to celebrate their newfound independence. It's also a great opportunity to reflect on why August and Everything After was so resonant in the first place.

Originally released in 1993, August and Everything After was hailed as an instant classic as it built off the enormous success of it's lead off single, "Mr. Jones." The album's success was hardly a revelation, however, as the band arrived with enormous expectations attached. Prior to August's release, they were tapped to fill in for Van Morrison who decidedly missed his own induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Proving to be well worth the hype, Counting Crows went on to deliver the feel bad album of the decade that everybody felt pretty good about. At a time and within a genre that celebrated it's most unlikely heroes, they also managed to deliver one of the feel bad albums that defined a generation.

Produced by T-Bone Burnett and not Butch Vig(Nirvana), Brendan O'Brien(Pearl Jam) or Steve Albini(the Pixies), the album was a different beast in the alternative jungle altogether. It was flush with mandolins, accordions, piano and acoustic guitars. As an alternative to alternative, it shamed the unimaginative drums-bass-guitar combo that defined the fuzzbox fury of everyone from Nirvana to Helmet. Additionally, it set the stage for left of everything bands like Wilco while still managing to honor the rock and roll traditions of everyone from the Band to R.E.M.

Armed with lush instrumentation and reliable songwriting, Counting Crows seemed like heavy contenders for the few markets interested in alternative but wary of it's "grungier" components like Pearl Jam. Similar to Pearl Jam, however, Counting Crows saw a meteoric rise in their fortunes and a large amount of this success was attributed to a troubled but charismatic lead singer. There was an undeniable gravitas to Adam Duritz' voice that seemed tethered to the same pained place as the ubiquitious Eddie Vedder. And despite the sonic differences of their bands, both delivered albums haunted by souls lost and isolated. As a result, the Crows legitimized alternative in a way that Pearl Jam, Nirvana and none of their peers could. They were angsty enough to romantically hypnotize my teenage brain and yet, they still delivered emotionally resonant music that favored talent over stylish gimmicry. It was the only time you'd find my father stealing my* albums.

In the time since that first album, a lot has happened. Duritz quit music- it was rumored he tended bars for a year before coming to his senses and returning with Recovery of the Satellites. Following that, Counting Crows would go on to release three more studio efforts, two live albums, a best of compilation and the inevitable re-release of the debut that started it all. In the process, they also managed to galvanize a sterling reputation as one of America's best live acts (alongside, who else- Pearl Jam).

Duritz, despite the myopic nature of his songs, has always entertained the public as a live wire singer full of warmth and humor he'd never get credit for otherwise. Additionally, the band has always seemed to delight in the malleability of their songs and arrangements as they'd take them from acoustic to blisteringly loud and back again. By focusing on substance over style, Counting Crows managed to build a catalog of work that translates easily from large arenas to small stages without sacrificing the emotional impact of their songs.

As deft as the band's performance is on Live at Town Hall, however, it's that emotional impact that fuel it's songs and it's success. Time has not dulled the wounded isolation for the protagonists that haunt Duritz' narratives. The heartache and sorrow that defines Maria in "Around Here" is still pulpable as is Duritz' exasperation and despair over her. The desperate need for validation that fuels "Mr. Jones" resonates as true as ever despite the narrator's oblivious irony to the song. The confounding "Anna Begins," the broken "Time and Time Again" and the plaintive "Murder of One" all still ring true in the hands of this band.

Ultimately, Live at Town Hall serves as a nice recognition of the benchmark that August and Everything After set not just for the band but for alternative music as well. By the current standards of music and technology, it's a singles market with not much room to spare for albums. But August and Everything After was released at a time when historic albums were released at a dizzying clip. Undeniably, there was a uniformity to the songs that rivaled only the best of their contemporaries, regardless of whether it was Nirvana's Nevermind, Pearl Jam's Ten or Red Hot Chili Peppers' BloodSugarSexMagic. And it's not beside the fact that Counting Crows have lived up to the standards of their early work with far more consistency than the majority of their peers. Late night pub talk could commence forever on which of their albums were classic and which were subpar. But the odds are that if you're a fan, you'd count at least three classic albums in their catalog.



*A total lie. August and Everything After was still a cd that I stole from my father. I just happened to hear them first.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Walking the Line with Chris Isaak: Beyond the Sun

From his pompadour to his mirror ball suit, Chris Isaak has never been shy about standing on the shoulders of rock and roll giants. Beyond the Sun finds him moving from their shoulders to their living rooms as he takes up residence in Memphis' Sun Studios and tackles the legacies of Elvis, Roy Orbison, Jerry Lee Lewis, Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins and more. This double disc set* allows Isaak a place in which he can embrace, without restraint, all the things that make him an American institution in his own right. His rockabilly swagger might be short on innovation here but it's steeped in reverance and really, who needs innovation with a songbook like this?

The definitive songs of three great American originals are here as Isaak covers Roy Orbison's "Oh, Pretty Woman," Jerry Lee Lewis' "Great Balls of Fire" and Johnny Cash's one two punch of "Ring of Fire" and "I Walk the Line." Compared to the possessed insanity of Jerry Lee Lewis or the unassailable gravitas of Johnny Cash, however, Isaak's vocals seem more suitable to Presley. Elvis' songs account for more than a lion's share of the tracklisting here and, unsurprisingly, his mellifluous vocal taste and refinement is golden throated honey on "Can't Help Falling in Love." All the other Presley tracks that follow suit (particularly the idiomatic "Love Me" on disc 2) can only hint at the impact that a young Elvis had. In the hands of Isaak, though, it's easier to imagine.

There's a certain joy, though, in listening to Isaak throw such vocal restraint to the wind. The Jimmy Wages song "Miss Pearl" sees the man and his band ripping loose: he howls his vocals like a man possessed through a clamor of frenzied guitar work and booming organ solos. It's a welcomed reminder of what a crack band Silvertone is and what they're capable of- rave ups with blistering guitar work and impassioned solos. It's a passion that carries over to Isaak originals like "Live It Up" and "Lovely Loretta." Undoubtedly, Beyond the Sun offers some of the best guitar work of the last year that, guaranteed, you won't hear from anyone else.

Beyond the Sun feels like such an obvious stroke of genius, it's amazing it hadn't been attempted before. Certainly, it's not Isaak's first cover on record: Heart Shaped World featured Bo Diddley's "Diddley Daddy" and San Francisco Days closed out with the ultimate rendition of Neil Young's "Solitary Man." 1996's Baja Sessions, anchored by Roy Orbison's "Only the Lonely," featured numerous covers. But none of that mitigates the sheer joy of listening to (or recording, I imagine) this collection of American originals. Jerry Lee Lewis' "Lucky Old Sun," the number that closes disc two, is as stirring a song as one could hope for from Lewis. But here, sung with all the cool heart and soul of Isaak's tenor, the song becomes more of a benediction as the listener starts to feel like the lucky one.


*Sure, there's a one disc edition of this but why would you want that? Disc 1 may have "Ring of Fire," "Great Balls of Fire," "Can't Help Falling in Love," "Miss Pearl" and "I Walk the Line" but disc 2 has "Pretty Woman," "Love Me," "Lucky Old Sun" and a number of other unlikely songs that are every bit as incredible as the obvious hits.

Friday, February 3, 2012

Leap Year: Ronin Rock's 2011 Bitchin' Mixtape



As we settle into February, it's more than obvious (and overdue) to recognize the new year. December was a prodigous whirlwind of creative energy for me and I tried to carry as much of that over to January as possible. The result: numerous short pieces focusing on a handful of albums from 2011 and a few (much) longer pieces on music that holds great value to me as an artist, consumer and fan of music. It was a great opportunity for me to stretch out as a writer and test my personal limits. Hopefully, this revealed more efficient methods in which to deliver content as well as shortcomings that can be addressed in order to make me a stronger writer all around.

Thank you to everyone who has stopped by to read. I hope you found something here that touched your hearts, minds and/or memories. It's a crazy thing to realize that someone out there is receiving what you thought were just random messages, bottled away for distant shores. But, like I said, thank you for reading. It's nice to be validated on occasion.

December is always a cross between self congratulations, holiday marketing and hopeless nostalgia when it comes to creative industries. We read all the grandiose best of lists, which are about as subjective as subjective can be, and buy large for Christmas. Screw that noise. Very little comes out in January because most of the good stuff was released in December and even then, it's not like we throw 2011's baby out with the bathwater. With that in mind, I present my bitchin' mixtape for 2011. Because new stuff (Craig Finn, Ingrid Michaelson and who is this Lana Del Rey person?) is starting to trickle in and because there are a few things I'm only now managing to wrap my head around (the Mighty Mighty Bosstones, the Roots).

Because really. You were still listening to the best that last year had to offer anyways.
So enjoy.

"The Devil is in the Beats" by the Chemical Brothers- My favorite piece of audio acid from the Chemical Brothers' warped score to Hanna, this is the sound of that soundtrack as heard through the looking glass. Bouncy, catchy and weird, this song is an amalgamation of everything I loved about the soundtrack.

"Gucci Gucci" by Kreayshawn- Undoubtedly the strangest thing I've heard in the last year, this little slice of hip hop weirdness is as infectious and memorable as it is offputting. This has me concerned for and excited about the state of hip hop in equal measures.

"Milkman" by EMA- Industrially poppish, this song is probably the most accessible piece from EMA's Past Life Martyred Saints. Incredibly naive but fearless, it was equal parts Pink Floyd, Nine Inch Nails and the Cureit and probably the most compelling thing I heard all year.

"Pumped Up Kicks" by Foster the People- Combining Danger Mouse's lo-fi Gorillaz production sense with the whistles of Peter Bjorn and John? Genius! Pathologically violent and adolescent lyrics? By the time people notice, they'll already be hooked. And am I the only suddenly nostalgic for Reeboks?

"Sail" by AWOLNation- I have no idea what this song is actually about, but it's paranoid, dark and funky enough that I don't mind. It's incredible what a laptop and a little adderall can do, yes?

"Immigrant Song" by Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross, featuring Karen 0- Opening up David Fincher's Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, this Led Zeppelin classic seemed to be a bit *points to nose*. But Fincher, returning to his roots as a video director, makes such a thrilling opening that the Stockholme Syndrome is instantaneous.

"Breaking Down" by Florence + the Machine- Defying sophomoritis, Ceremonials rocked the face off its predecessor despite no obvious "Dog Days"like single. This song was equipped with just the right amount of drums, piano and a lilting melody from Florence that evokes the most graceful and powerful of Siouxsie Sioux comparisons.

"Cold Comfort Flowers" by Fountains of Wayne- There's always been a whistful side to Fountains of Wayne, but Sky Full of Holes placed it front and center. That doesn't mean they skimped on the psychedelic harmonies or singalong melodies, though, and the intro to this song alone will be stuck in your head for weeks to come.

"Uberlin" by R.E.M.- There's an innate tension to this song that suggests a narrator hiding behind the facade of routine. There's also a sense of impending finality as the song's transcendent choruses take flight. A change is taking place, at the very least internally, and only the listener bears witness. This makes me miss R.E.M. that much more and they've barely left.

"Introdiction" by Scroobius Pip- Scroobius Pip returns without Dan LeSac and boy, does he sound grouchy. Produced by NIN's Danny Lohner with drums by Travis Barker and backing vocals by Milla Jovovich, this is the most compelling rhyme Pip has dropped since "Thou Shalt Always Kill."

"Give Up the Ghost" by Radiohead- Hidden behind an unassailable collection of digital audio madness, Radiohead starts to deliver actual songs halfway through King of Limbs. This haunted lullabye is the prettiest song they've made in years and well worth the wait to hear Thom Yorke actually sing a melody.

"The Beginning of the End" by the Twilight Singers- Nobody makes music more cinematic than Greg Dulli (in any of his groups) and this is no exception. Explosive, longing and remorseful, Dulli opens the song big before settling into hushed crooning and back again. This is one last blast before the curtain call and it's everything I love about this band.

"Your Past Life is a Blast" by Okkervil River- Okkervil River, typical of the weird that is Austin, has always been too literate to be easily defined. They're not loud enough, fast enough, catchy enough, country enough or anything enough to be anything but Okkervil River. That being said, I Am Very Far caught me off guard- not just by how good it was but by it's sheer existence. And this song stands out as a particular sentimal favorite for me.

"Map of Tasmania" by Amanda Palmer featuring Young Punx- Yes. It is a song about... well, pubes. But it also happens to be a helluva lotta fun. So just let it all hang out,... as it were.

"Under Cover of Darkness" by the Strokes- While Angles lacked the cohesion of their last three albums, this song was a pretty damn good reminder of why we all loved them in the first place. With everyone in their right place, this was the Strokes proper- Julian Casablancas' crooning, Albert Hammond's inimitable rhythm style and a searing lead from Nick Valensi. Just don't make us wait so long for number five, guys.

"Open and Honest" by the Mighty Mighty Bosstones- It's amazing what the Bosstones can do when they put their minds to it. This is from their third release (Magic of Youth) since they reconvened a few years ago and it's got all the Mighty Mighty hallmarks. From Dicky Barrett's cheery Henry Rollins via Joe Strummer everyman vibe to the reverb drenched guitar skank, this is magic indeed.

"This is Home" by Blink 182- From the triumphant return of Neighborhoods, this song is a perfect evocation of youth in all it's follies. Unfettered, fearless and hungry, this song is a great reminder about what it feels like to be young and free in a dangerous world.

"Rolling in the Deep" by Adele- Sure, Adele's got a powerhouse of a voice but it's all the old school stomping going on in the background that's really got me excited. The quarter note piano hammers and the floor toms are all brilliant but it's the handclaps that sealed the deal for me.

"I Walk the Line" by Chris Isaak- Chris Isaak covers all of the Sun Studios greats with Beyond the Sun but it takes a certain gravitas to take on the Man in Black. And here, Isaak delivers in full and then some. I mean, really, it's Chris Isaak covering Johnny Cash. What the hell else do you need?

"Norteno Lights" by Mariachi El Bronx- Most of Mariachi El Bronx (II) comes off like the soundtrack to a Robert Rodriguez movie (which is great if it's your cup of tea). This little love song, on the other hand, is everything that you love or hate about mariachi: that worldly polka beat with a frenetic accordion and horns. I love it to death and want nothing more than to turn it up to full blast at three in the morning, thus pissing off the rest of the neighborhood.

"All the Sand in the Sea" by Devotchka- This is the sound of Lorca scored by Ennio Morricone and spiked with red wine. That's not the first time I've said that and it won't be the last. But I certainly will never say it better. In a perfect world, this would be a starmaking song for this little Denver band.

"Down All the Days" by U2- I know what it sounds like (and you will too if you get the chance to hear this song). But what this song really is is the perfect summation of U2's gravelly throated desperation and exuberant sonic ambition amidst the studio sessions that made Achtung Baby. Pound for pound, the band has never sounded better than at this point in time.