Showing posts with label album reviews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label album reviews. Show all posts

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Decoy’s Completely Biased Non-Definitive Guide To Music


Marcy Playground - Marcy Playground (1997)

One band that got lost in the shifting sands of the post-grunge years was New York’s Marcy Playground. They were never gonna be a revolutionary band, but I think they were certainly victims of bad timing, and changing trends within the industry. This, their debut, produced the single “Sex and Candy” which became quite a big hit and propelled them into the spotlight for a while. But it soon faded. And they seemed to disappear from the radar. The thing is, this band wrote some really good songs. Their sound was undeniably Nirvana-influenced, especially songs like: “Poppies” and “Saint Joe on the School Bus”. But it was their other tracks where I feel they came into their own. Songs like: “Ancient Walls of Flowers”, “A Cloak of Elvenkind”, “One More Suicide” and “The Vampires of New York” that came to symbolise what I dug about Marcy Playground. Catchy laconic tunes with a weird obscure semi-acoustic bent. The lyrics have an ironic detachment that makes them kinda boring on paper, and you’d think kinda (not very funny) jokey to be sung, but what made it all work was the melody being sung, that carried these words was usually so instantly friendly - like old songs you knew at school or nursery rhymes - that the irony became (at its best moments) a kind of sweet and tender poignancy that came across sadly defeated and nostalgic rather than maudlin or navel-gazing or whatever. Really an underappreciated band and album…




Girl Talk - Feed the Animals (2008)

Gregg Gillis…a mild-mannered Pennsylvanian biomedical engineer by day…and by night, as the moon rises and the lunatics come out to play, he tears the lab-coat off (quite literally, sometimes) as he morphs into his dance-crazed mash-up DJ alter-ego: Girl Talk. A 21st century superhero, armed with his trusty laptop and FM radio, mashing together all manner of songs and samples and beats into a juicy form of dance pop. The songs he uses as source material for his digital alchemy are so disparate (eg: Jay-Z, Toni Basil, Rod Stewart and Aphex Twin – within one song) that it’s a true feat of sonic collage to combine such wildcard elements into a highly listenable context. And it’s these skills as an arranger that stands out after repeated listens. Even though upon a first taste one is seemingly bombarded with countless pop references, the restraint exercised allows the listener to identify the samples and enjoy the fresh juxtapositions (or if you’re slow, like me, at least get a sense of them - and it’ll come to you later, probably while you’re brushing your teeth, getting ready for bed). The tendency for some would be to push it to further extremes into Breakcore territory. Which is still interesting, but stops being as much fun for me. (Plus, who can dance to breakcore?) And that’s what this music is, above all else - Fun. With each release, he has always pushed more samples into each song, clocking up something on the order of thousands of pieces of song. He has continually tested the limits of the form without losing the playfulness. Perhaps one day we’ll see the logical extension of his ideas, and he’ll release a one song album that contains a snippet of every song ever recorded! His Mash’em Opus. Now there’s a challenge…do it, Mr. Talk…I’m there dude.

(I should probably point out that despite my love of music, I can’t dance to save my life. My free & easy use of words concerning dancing are simply meant for you…if you are so inclined to shake it. And I hear you saying: ‘Hey, Decoy, that’s classic, me too, I can’t dance either -’…well, let me just stop you right there - nah, friend, you can dance…okay?...compared to me, you can dance…trust me…)



Jaco Pastorius - Jaco Pastorius (1976)

One of the saddest stories in 70s/80s Jazz, is the untimely death of Jaco Pastorius at the age of 35. The man could play electric bass like no other. And he made some great recordings with other 70s jazz hounds like Pat Metheny and Paul Bley. I first heard him on Joni Mitchell’s jazz-laced Hejira (1976), where he played on four tracks. But that same year saw the release of this, his first official solo effort. Here, with songs like, “Come On, Come Over”, “Continuum” and “Okonkole Y Trompa” he finally got to show the world he could back up his lofty claim: “I am the greatest bass player in the world.” Upon meeting this cocky cat, Joe Zawinul (the acclaimed jazz keyboardist who played with Miles Davis during Miles’ groundbreaking electric period, and who went on to form Weather Report) thought he was full of shit, and himself. But Joe went home and listened to Jaco’s demo tapes and subsequently recruited him for Weather Report’s next album, Black Market (1976). Jaco would stay with them for five more albums as a full-fledged member of the band, before releasing his second solo album Word of Mouth (1981). His playing was very influential not only in the world of Jazz, but you can trace his sound and style through funk’s evolution and even the alternate-grooves of Primus and Red Hot Chili Peppers. He had an effortlessly smooth style, and his dexterity is really something to behold. Shifting from rhythm-section to lead and back again, he could be at once a blur of notes and then a big bulbous drone throbbing behind the scenes. Even if you’re not a fan of jazz or funk or whatever else you’d call his music, he probably remains an influence on something you’d like, such was the impact of this outrageously talented (and unfortunately tragic) musician/composer.

By Decoy Spoon

Friday, January 30, 2009

Decoy’s Completely Biased Non-Definitive Guide To Music


dEUS - Worse Case Scenario (1994)

Deus should have been HUGE. Three or four years before Radiohead achieved legendary status with OK Computer and came to define the (somewhat clunky) term Meta-Rock, Deus produced this, their debut album, which was already pointing the way forward. Post-punk, post-rock, post-grunge, art-rock, no one really knew what to call it, but it sure was good. The Belgian band had obviously absorbed the soft/loud Pixies thing; the viola drone of The Velvet Underground; the greasy gravelly personas of Tom Waits; the dark dramatics of Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds; the subverted grooves of Faith No More; the orchestrated chaos of Sonic Youth; the atmospherics of prog; the literate leanings of REM; and the stadium-size anthems of U2. Some of these trace elements could be found, but this was all done without being derivative at all. Their sound was completely original. Deus sounded like no one except Deus. Lead singer/songwriter Tom Barman wrote some evocative surrealist lyrics about death, drugs, life and loss that were well suited to the albums varied textures. And the other members displayed a restraint and maturity (especially for a debut) that still sounds fresh - never over-doing anything - guitarist Rudy Trouvé and bassist Stef Kamil Carlens always adding the perfect touches to the proceedings. The songs were so well crafted, seeming like a band that had been around for a long time and had developed into this inventive style after years of experimentation. Through songs like “Suds & Soda”, “Worse Case Scenario”, “Let’s Get Lost”, “Hotellounge” and “Great American Nude” we get to witness the sheer diversity of this band. It’s no wonder these songs are still fan favourites; it’s a testament to this masterful (yet sadly underrated) album…and band, of course.




Pocahaunted - Island Diamonds (2008)

Set your delays and reverb dials to eleven folks, and get ready for this implosion of sound that’ll have you falling into yourself, blurring the boundaries of inner and outer as your descent takes the scenic route to the cosmos within. These two Californian girls have been hard at work producing music and releasing it via various indie/DIY labels and gigs, and they’re deservedly starting to gain more recognition for their output. The music is kinda hard to neatly categorise, and I guess a few knee-jerk references would/could be Down-Tempo meets Trance meets Ambient meets Dub meets Noise meets the rhythms of Tribal Ethnic World Music. The music slowly swirls and ebbs and seeps, while the vocals are filtered and fucked-with in a lovely messy manner that renders them just long strange chants that continue to echo throughout the distant saga of each song. They’re reinventing the Wall-of-Sound with a beautifully balanced mix of crowded sound and stark silence. Kinda like the yin-yang effect of slowly pouring milk into unstirred coffee, the ingredients of guitar and percussion become unidentifiable in the whole, and it’s a tasty checkered blend. The first song “Ashes Is White” perfectly illustrates this thing I’m (failing at) describing; sounding like the memory of a backyard Corroboree, where this strange sound is the only souvenir of your mystic experience. And it just rolls on with “Ghetto Ballet” and the rest of the album. Simultaneously, the music makes me think of ‘being outside’, yet it makes me feel like I’m ‘travelling inside my own body’. The kinda thing I imagine would go down a treat at Burning Man, with the right kind of cocktail in your blood-stream inducing some serious religious experiences. Godahaunted.



Jean Michel Jarre - Oxygène (1976)

Setting up his analog synthesisers and various effects generators throughout his kitchen, French electronic composer Jean Michel Jarre home-recorded this landmark album when—besides the slow growing popularity of German bands Kraftwerk and Tangerine Dream—there really wasn’t much of a commercial market for electronic music. Little did he know it would go on to sell millions. It would go on to become a classic, and help define and influence the future genres of Electronica, Ambient, Techno, New Age, Trance, Drone etc. Way ahead of it’s time, yet also completely bound by the nascent technology, it remains a very cool listen today. It’s instantly recognisable to most Australians due to its use in Peter Weir’s memorable 1981 film Gallipoli. And even though the film is set in 1915 and follows the fate of two young friends amid the bloodshed of WWI, the thoroughly modern music (of the time) somehow suited the film perfectly, and became as recognisable as any image from the film. The film made great use of the pings! and pows! that pepper “Oxygène (Part II)”, and gave it a context that I’m sure Jarre could never have imagined. Suddenly the sounds became ricocheting bullets and the dull bass beat became the pounding hearts of the terrified young men in the trenches. Over the top of it all was the synth-strings shadowing everything with a spooky veil of breathy cyber-Adagio atmosphere. So whether it’s listening intently through the headphones or slapped on in the background, it’s well worth 40 minutes of your time.

By Decoy Spoon

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Decoy’s Completely Biased Non-Definitive Guide To Music


Dire Straits - Communiqué (1979)

Though long considered by critics one of the daggiest groups of all time, Dire Straits produced a kind of post-Dylan soft-cock-rock that is still uniquely their own. (I suspect the tennis sweatbands had as much to do with that cynical designation, than just Mark Knopfler’s proclivity for solos). Despite the success of their first single, “Sultans of Swing”, I always felt they were more a mood band than a chart-storming hit machine. Almost prog-esque in some songs (“Telegraph Road”/”Private Investigations”), it’s not surprising they were embraced by the same audience as admirers of late 70s Pink Floyd. Sure, they made some overblown, over-extended guitar-driven songs that can seem over-indulgent and a few hours too long for most modern listeners. And I’m sure their audience was/is 99% white males. But they carved out a corner of the commercial music world for themselves with some great guitar work and top-notch production that was clean and smooth and hard to hate, completely. And I’m not afraid to admit that I still have a soft spot for the Knopf-meister and his bouncy white-sneaker brigade. And for my money, Communique is one of their best. Not as HUGE as Brothers In Arms or Love Over Gold, songs like “News”, “Where Do You Think You're Going?” and “Lady Writer” enable Communique to stand as a totem for the bands’ charm in a more subtle way. And I hold that “Once Upon A Time In The West” deserves some major reassessment as one of the great reggae infused rockers of all time. We can’t let The Police get all the white-reggae glory. Dig it.




Band Aid - Do They Know It’s Christmas? (1984)

Before Live 8, before Live Earth, and (more importantly,) before USA For Africa, Bob Geldof and Midge Ure came together to create Band Aid - an ensemble of popular UK musicians - to record the song “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” to raise money for and awareness of the famine in Ethiopia. The song, penned by Geldof and Ure, is a classic slice of 80s pop, rich with the sonic stylings of the time and as catchy as, I dunno, the common cold. The single, and the accompanying video proved to be a massive success (staying at #1 for five weeks and selling more than 3 million copies in the UK alone) and was a who’s who of 80s pop royalty: Paul Young, Boy George, Bono, Sting, George Michael, Phil Collins, Duran Duran, Spandau Ballet, Paul Weller, Bananarama, you name it. If they were pale, and they were popular, it was a good bet they were in the mix somewhere. The following year America jumped on the righteous bandwagon with USA for Africa and the song “We Are The World”, which I’m sure raised loads of cash for a good cause, and sported another star-studded cast including: Michael Jackson, Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Tina Turner, Billy Joel, Lionel Ritchie, Paul Simon, Stevie Wonder, Cyndi Lauper and many others. But the song just wasn’t as good. It was 50 choruses too long for starters, and not half as 80s as the UK pioneer. “We Are The World” came off as heavy-handed and over-cooked, and it sounds more like USA for USA. (And poor old Springsteen would be parodied as the constipated crooner for the next ten years.) Anyway, start singing all you 80s kids…don’t pretend you don’t know the words.

Watch the video here:
http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=8jEnTSQStGE
and at 1:30 ask yourself: Who let in Bobcat Goldthwait???

USA for Africa - We Are The World
http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=M9BNoNFKCBI




Amy Winehouse - Back To Black (2006)

Much has been said about this album, simply because it’s so damn good. Much has been said about Amy Winehouse too, simply because she’s so damn wild. But you need to put that stuff out of your head and dig this album for what it is, which is one of the best damn soul albums of the modern era, by one of the greatest damn soul singers (and songwriters) of the modern era. Anyone who can come up with lines like: “What kind of fuckery is this?” or “It’s got me addicted/Does more than any dick did” or “Love is a fate resigned/Over futile odds/And laughed at by the Gods/And now the final frame/Love is a losing game”, is a gritty gutter poet that should be celebrated alongside Bukowski in my book. But there are many reasons to love this album. Every song is a winner. It sweeps through the full spectrum of the bittersweet human condition and makes great art out of the paradoxical struggle. It’s sad, yet sweet. It’s tough, yet fragile. It’s dark, yet the vocal melodies are pure sunshine. By taking cues from the legendary jazz sirens like Sarah Vaughan and Dinah Washington and Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holliday; the Phil Spector girl groups like The Ronettes and The Crystals, then filtering it all through the modern genres of Trip-Hop and R&B and Reggae/Dub/Ska, Amy and her band (The Dap Kings, check out also Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings albums) have conjured up a super seductive fresh brand of post-post-modern old-school cool. So ignore the media’s headlines and gossip and callous dogging of this promising young artist, and get yourself addicted.

By Decoy Spoon