Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Clear Heart Full Eyes by Craig Finn

When Craig Finn sings "I suppose you thought I'd be gushing blood" in "No Future," I have a small confession to make: yes, the thought had occurred to me. As the singer/lyricist for the Hold Steady, Finn's had the better part of five albums to perfect his vision of the car wrecks, brain injuries and hot messes that litter post Meth Lab America. That vision, fueled by beer and punk, has always sounded like an epic Steinbeckian narrative that just happens to touch down on the Replacements as often as Springsteen. Here, that epic boozy swagger has been slowed down and, as a result, the songs probably share more with Neil Young and his Stray Gators (see Harvest and it's sequel Harvest Moon).

Slowing the beat down does little to diminish the potency of Finn's self destructive protagonists, though. Instead, there is an innate sadness on display here and it betrays what would almost surely be the heart of a joke in the blustery hands of the Hold Steady. By allowing the comedic to fester into the tragic, Finn has effectively portrayed his characters as "rotten and bruised- the soft part of the fruit."

And what sad, bittersweet fruit it is. "Apollo Bay" opens the album with a Harvest era Neil Young flavor. Lurking beneath that country melancholia, however, is a menacing and paranoid guitar solo stolen straight from Young's other gig, Crazy Horse. It's almost as though Finn is getting his Neil Young's mixed here and it's a compelling listen. Played with a steely reserve before unleashing all manners of hell, the solo commandeers the song away from Finn's lyrical subtexts.

The subtext being, of course, the implications and innuendos that hide beneath Finn's usual lyrical motif: religion. While he's never had a particularly reverent take on the subject, he's never wielded it like an axe to grind either. Instead, he's used it as an observational litmus for the obsessed, the depressed and the desparate. Drawing a fine line between the righteous and the wicked, he uses religious fervor to coax equal amounts of horror and humour from occupants on both sides. Whether it's the pseudo-pious fake of "When No One's Watching" or the newly rehabbed head case with his "New Friend Jesus," it's obvious that any religious undertones here have little to do with being religious. More than anything, these are full blown addicts who have moved on to the opiate of the masses.

Finn has stated in interviews that Clear Heart Full Eyes was simply an excercise in songwriting for him, a project designed to hone his skills and contributions to his regular gig. That shouldn't imply, though, that there aren't thrills to be had here. Certainly, there's a dark paranoia that courses through songs like "Apollo Bay" and "Western Pier." Additionally, "Not Much Left of Us" may be one of the prettiest songs that Finn has written. But songs like "Jackson" and "Terrified Eyes" could easily be punched up into boozy Hold Steady regulars if you replaced their sad sack country tinges with rifftastic guitar heroics. None moreso than "Honolulu Blues," however, in which an epic bender is set to a blustery and bluesy barroom swagger with enough sardonic glee for a Cohen brothers movie. It's the good ol' Hold Steady fun you'd expect from Finn. More than that, however, it brings his split lip songwriting to the fore- you're never quite sure what's happened except for the stories and except for the bloodstains.



essential listening
Apollo Bay
Terrified Eyes
Honolulu Blues

Thursday, March 15, 2012

I'm Not Sleeping


I'm only dreaming.

And listening to lots of music. I feel it's a fairly safe bet to say that reviews are pending for Polica, Sleigh Bells, Ingrid Michaelson, Die Antwoord, Craig Finn, Goldfrapp, the Mighty Mighty Bosstones and possibly a few other things. If that seems disparate, imagine what it sounds like in my head. In any event, I needed a week off and a little more time to live with the music and let it digest.

With that said, don't wake me- I'll be back soon.

Friday, March 2, 2012

The Dark Side of Scroobius Pip: Distraction Pieces

Forget the Scroobius Pip who bullied the pulpit in 2007's "Thou Shalt Always Kill." And forget the one that wanted to "Get Better" in 2010. The Pip of 2011's Distraction Pieces comes off more like his indignant doppleganger- the raging anarchist that lurked beneath Pip's usual pragmatic optimism has been released and boy, is he surly. When he says "if the bad times are coming, let 'em come," he's not posturing with a stiff upper lip. He's spoiling for a fight. Whether it's the defiant "Introdiction" or the anti-military industrial complex rant of "Soldier Boy, Kill 'Em," the question must be asked: is there a better hip-hop superhero for these Occupied times?

Taking a break from the usual sound of Dan Le Sac vs Scroobius Pip, Distraction Pieces flaunts a new sonic palette for Pip to toss his wordplay off of. Dan Le Sac and his bouncing electro soundscapes are nowhere to be found here, giving way instead to an elemental guitar aesthetic that seems to fuel the surliness. It urgently propels the insurgency that pulses beneath the surface of songs like "Let 'Em Come," "Try Dying" and "Domestic Silence." But when "Death of a Journalist" is armed with an old school 808 drum attack, the realization sinks in: Scroobius Pip has delivered an old school Run-DMC/Public Enemy record that most hip-hoppers claim to love but have forgotten.

Musically, Distraction Pieces doesn't necessarily suggest a musical break from Pip's partnership with Dan Le Sac. In fact, if it suggests a break of any kind, it's a schizophrenic one from his past lyrical self. The trenchantly disturbed "Introdiction" reinforces this notion when Pip recasts himself as the lead from television's Quantum Leap. "Ziggy says if I keep writing this shit, there's an eight percent chance that Al can make it a pop hit," he raps before turning it around with "But Al's an alcoholic and I'm a fucking schizoprhenic." Produced by NIN's Danny Lohner, it's the perfect opening track with Travis Barker's claustrophobic drumming and Milla Jovovich's best Resident Evil backing vocals adding to the eeriness.

Moving from television to the theatre, cinema seems to looms large on Pip's mind. Whether it's a Goldfinger reference in "Domestic Silence" or the inspiration of Secret Window in "the Struggle," he's doing his best to make good on "Introdiction's" promise to be the "soundtrack to your fucking movie." In particular, "the Struggle" recasts Pip as a new kind of American psycho taking his place in the new American dream, one in which a celebrity obsessed culture allows the best of the beautiful to indulge in the worst of atrocities. "My name is Johnny Depp and I kill people" he states rather plainly over bluesy guitar licks and Bo Diddley toms.

Any concerns over the veracity of the narrator's reality in "the Struggle" are immediately confronted by the successive "Broken Promise." The spectacularly murderous whims of the former are juxtaposed by the sober failings of the latter. As a moment of clarity, it's more lucid than dream and the bitter taste of reality is reflected in the somber guitar line that echoes in the back. For all his talk of replacing the Heartbreak Hotel with the "Fuck You, Get Over It Bed and Breakfast," it's obvious that Pip is the sole occupant. It's a place of ugly repose, but one in which the listener can let go before the ethereal jump off of "Feel It." Whether this is indicative of whatever twisted reality Pip dreams of next, only the future will tell.

Even though it's never name checked, there's a pervasive element of Fight Club that looms large over this record. It's an anti-social element, murderous even, that eschews all formal societal boundaries and structures while simultaneously celebrating the human spirit. "Introdiction" sets the agenda early on when Pip raps "You see a mouse trap, I see free cheese and a fucking challenge." So make no mistake, this is not the Pip of 2008's Angles that conversed with Lloyd Dobbler in his dreams. This is the Pip that turns into Tyler Durden when he sleeps and he's welcoming us to his nightmare.


essential listening:
Introdiction
the Struggle
Let 'Em Come