anglo-audiophile:The Reviews

As promised, my review of Off With Their Heads and Perfect Symmetry. Not as much bashing as I thought there would be, but still rather good if you ask me.

Originally Off With Their Heads and Perfect Symmetry were suppose to be released on the same day. It was going to be an absolute bonanza for me: Two of my favourite bands releasing their third albums on the same day. Sadly, though I guess ultimately for the best, Off With Their Heads was delayed three weeks here in the States and so I got to hear Perfect Symmetry before I heard Off With Their Heads. If you had asked me at the beginning of October whose album I was more excited about I would have automatically answered the Kaiser Chiefs. But now, after listening to both albums I must, sadly, admit Keane has the better third album. And what it comes down to is passion.
My main complaint with the Kaiser Chiefs’ lead single, “Never Miss a Beat” (beside the idiotic nature of the lyrics), was the lack of passion contained in the song. This apathy pervades the band’s new album Off With Their Heads leading the listener to think that band doesn’t care about what they’re singing or playing, that they are merely putting out and album to put out an album (and ultimately, why should we care about an album that the band doesn’t care about). Although Mark Ronson and Eliot James do a very good job of producing Off With Their Heads, the band’s lack of enthusiasm and the poor quality of the lyrics makes listening to this album a very trying experience. The few saving graces on the albums, particularly “Like It Too Much” and “Always Happens Like That”, are the songs that seems to have even iota of passion in them. Unfortunately those songs are too infrequent to make up for the rest of the passionless tracks that dominate Off With Their Heads.
Recommended Tracks: Like It Too Much, You Want History, Always Happens Like That, Remember You’re a Girl
On the flip side, you could never accuse Keane of not being passionate about their music. While not every song on Perfect Symmetry is absolutely brilliant, the band never wanes in its enthusiasm for the music they’re producing. As often happens in the mixing of an album, Perfect Symmetry is front loaded with the best songs recorded by Keane, but there are a few gems on the second half of the album particularly “Pretend That You’re Alone” and album closer “Love is the End” that save the album from being too dull at the end. While some of the messages on the album can come across as heavy-handed the musical experientialism paired with Tom Chaplin’s complete and utter belief in what he is singing more than makes up for calling mankind weeds. The best songs on the album are those that break ground both musically and lyrically for the band, those few times when they step out of their comfort zone and create something unexpected.
Recommended Tracks: The Lovers Are Losing, Better Than This, Perfect Symmetry, Pretend That Your Alone, Love Is The End
A good album shows growth musically and lyrically and conveys the passion a band has for creating music. Good songs step ever so slightly outside a band’s comfort zone, showing a certain amount of experimentation without alienating their fans or casual listeners. Those elements and the lack of those elements are what make Off With Their Heads a disappointing album and Perfect Symmetry a good one. Ultimately, it all comes down to passion.

Perfect Symmetry: B+ Off With Their Heads: C-

We’re studying secondary dominants in theory right now and Prof. Long has been making a lot quippy remarks about pop music. Today however was the cherry on the sundae. I feel I should mention that Prof. Long is a composer and holds a fancy doctorate in something pertaining to music (I don’t remember whether it’s theory or composition.) To Prof. Long pop starts are illiterate idiots who degrade the artistry of music. I sighed heavily and closed my eyes every time he mentioned pop today, mainly because I was thinking of skipping today’s class and was wishing I had. You see I wish I could immerse myself in pop at all times and really want to spend the rest of my life listnening and studying pop music. Yes the people who perform pop music can be considered the equivalent of trained monkeys (I’m thinking of Britney Spears and her ilk when I say this) but the people who write pop songs are every bit as sophisticated as classical composers. A person can’t write a good pop song without knowing what they’re doing. Singer-songwriters may not get a formal education in theory (most of the time anyway) but they know what they’re doing. They have to. You can write mediocre crap and get no where very quickly in the music business. It takes skill and a thorough understanding of pop music to really get anywhere in the business (at least the mainstream business.) Writing off pop music as the domain of idiots is like accusing Judy Bloom of not being a good writer. Pop should not be a dirty word in the world of music.

[On a side note, before I even start the entry: God I'm so clever]
“Spiralling” - Keane
Keane has always had the potential to be incredibly emo. The band’s lyrics are incredibly depressing, even when the song itself is in a major key. What stops Keane from being the emo kings is the main song writer, Tim Rice-Oxley’s, proclivity for technological experimentation. Rice-Oxley’s love of synthesizer and sound effects, as well as the band’s overall aesthetic, keeps Keane’s depressing lyrics from turning the band into another one-note band. This fact is crystallized in Keane’s latest single “Spiralling.” If one was to simply read the lyrics, with no knowledge of what the actual song sounded like or who the band was, it could be assumed that “Spiralling” was by a run of the mill emo band. However Keane’s heavy use of synthesizer, drum effects, and various digital doo-hickeys along with Tom Chaplin distinctive vocals mark the song as one by Keane, who are anything but run of the mill. The only part that can’t be taken seriously by anyone who has heard “Once in a Lifetime” is the spoken bridge, which just sounds too ridiculous coming from Tom Chaplin. In all other aspects “Spiralling” is an interesting and musically adventurous song that leads Keane’s sound in a new direction without being jarring. Grade: B+

“Lucid Dreams” - Franz Ferdinand
Franz Ferdinand have always been clever. Since their debut, the band has been able to write pop music that has depth without sounding pretentious. With “Lucid Dreams” Franz Ferdinand returns to the dance floor that they came from while continuing on the intellectual, and at times nonsensical, path that their lyrics have been going down since their second album. The band also continues it’s musical expansion in its incorporation of mood-setting instrumentation and guitar effects while Alex Kapranos reaches into his falsetto range during “Lucid Dreams” chorus and bridge. The band also more fully incorporate the keyboards that had taken a back seat on their second album which gives the song a fuller and more danceable sound. It seems that despite their long absence Franz Ferdinand are still quite clever. Grade: A

“Never Miss A Beat” - Kaiser Chiefs
Kaiser Chiefs biggest problem is that they must be listened to repeatedly before being appreciated. Unlike their peers, Kaiser Chiefs tend to write songs that must be listened to a few times before the inherent good qualities can be heard. Sometimes a few times turns into 10 times, but eventually the good in the song will come through. In the past Nick Hodgson, the man behind the majority of the band’s catalogue, has been able to write a few tunes that are instantly loveable by the masses. This time however it seemed that he was unable to produce such a song. “Never Miss a Beat” consists of boring instrumentals and inane lyrics and can be described as mediocre at best. At worst it’s a poorly written try at social commentary from a band that can do so much better. Kaiser Chiefs are no strangers to making a socio-political point, but in “Never Miss a Beat” the band comes across as platitude spewing rockers. But, as with the majority of the Kaiser Chiefs catalogue, it has it’s redeeming qualities. It just might take a few listens to hear. Grade: C

A few months ago I wrote an entry about a line from the Proclaimers’ song “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” were I explained what a certain couplet meant because I didn’t know what it meant and found the definition interesting. Well, I’m going to do the exact same thing with another song, this time by Supergrass, for exactly the same reasons. However my reason for figuring out the lyrics is slightly different, but still related to boredom so I won’t get into the nitty-gritty details. Let’s just say I was bored and wanted the issue cleared.
The line in mind is from the song “Alright” which is from Supergrass’ first album I Should Coco which was released in 1995. The line is as follows:

We are young, we run green

Now I had deciphered the last bit as something else, but I was intrigued by what “run green” meant. So I googled the phrase and came up with this:

Run Green: the act of selling pot.

Unlike with havering this definition was more logical, but still interesting given the context within the song and actions taken in later verses (driving a car into a fence and still be alright for instance.) So there you have it, your little slang lesson for today.
Hopefully I’ll be posting more in this blog in the coming weeks due to an onslaught of interesting releases. In fact Jenny Lewis comes out with her first/second solo effort this upcoming Tuesday and then three weeks later Keane comes out with their third album. Ben Folds enters the picture as well and of course there’s the highly anticipated third album from Kaiser Chiefs, which will doubtless get it’s own song by song review. Until then, keep listening.
Oh! Radio starts next week! Monday’s 7-8 at wmwc.umw.edu. Be sure to listen ;D And kudos to anyone who gets the movie I’m referencing in the entry title.

Sorry for the lack of updates. Not much happening in this part of my life really. However the fall is going to see lots of reviews which I plan on putting up here. Anyway, apologies for the lateness of posting this particular entry. Busy week and all that.

I wasn’t really that excited about seeing We Are Scientists again. Their second album leaves much to be desired and with the departure of Tapper, my respect for the band had taken a serious hit. But Sophie had purchased the tickets before either of us really understood how disappointing Brain Thrust Mastery is, so there was nothing to be done. Suck it up and enjoy the concert as much as possible. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as all that.

“So the merch guy left the band as well?” - Sophie (in a hypothetical question to Keith Murray)

At the last concert Sophie and I went to at the Black Cat, various members of the bands had somehow been put in charged of selling their own merchandise. The person who been selling for the White Rabbits had seemed somewhat disgruntled about the whole thing, which is why I ended up with a shirt a size too small, but it had been cool nonetheless. However, I thought that the whole thing had been because of the relative fame of the bands involved. So you can imagine my surprise when I see Keith Murray fronting the merch table.
Needless to say I flapped around a lot, was completely indecisive about which shirt I wanted and forgot what size shirt I wanted when it was my turn. Gorgeousness does that to me.

Nore: “Could you sign this?”
Keith: [swats card]
Nore: [makes small pouty face]
Keith: [signs card]

The first opening act was thoroughly unimpressive (I decided, after maybe three songs that “they [were] trying too hard”). In the lull between them (Apache Beat) and the second opening act (Oxford Collapse) I posited various actions I should take given that Keith was still manning the merch stand. None of them actually made sense and some involved taunting him about Tapper’s departure from the band. This line of conversation was ended when I needed to use the loo (three diet cokes at dinner and two glasses of water, plus another diet coke at the club). Which was when I saw Chris Caine, bassist for the band, nonchalantly standing and talking to someone. When I came back from the loo I posited that I should get the two’s signatures, since they were so readily available to the audience. Sophie concurred and we agreed that I would get Keith’s signature and Sophie would get Chris’. After much hemming and hawing and general nervousness about the whole business I finally got the signature (hence the above little bit of dialogue).
(A very big version of the actual signature)

Sophie then tried to renig on her deal, but I wimped out from getting Chris’ signature so Sophie agreed to get it for me. She missed the first two songs of Oxford Collapses’ set, but she got the signature.
(Also a very big version of the actual signature)

The actual show was lack luster, but much of that opinion is due to the fact that I didn’t care for the first opener, was coming down from an adrenaline rush during the second, and was completely un-enthused for the head liners. I’m sure actual fans of the band really had a fantastic time.

We Are Scientists

1. Nobody Move
2. Chick Lit
3. This Scene is Dead
4. Inaction
5. Impatience
6. Let’s See It
7. Cash Cow
8. Can’t Lose
9. Callbacks
10. That’s What Counts
11. After Hours
12. Textbook
13. Tonight
14. Dinosaurs
15. It’s a hit

Encore

• Lethal Enforcer
• Great Escape

This is a bit out of character for this blog (completely in character for my other blogs), so I apologize if it sounds less than scholarly.
This past fall, while taking Rock/Soul/Progressive, one of the books we were required to read was Flowers in the Dustbin by James Miller. Everyone in the class agreed that Miller was an old coot who, despite his angst over the “death” of rock, provided an excellent baseline upon which to build a better understanding of rock. However, he was still an old coot who rankled me with his dismissal of everything that came after the death of Elvis and most of what came after the break-up of the Beatles. When I finished the course, I was positive that would the last time I would encounter Mr. Miller. Oh, I was so wrong.
In light of my decision to become the best DJ ever (and that’s a hard goal to reach given the history that precedes me), I’ve been reading about the history of radio on both sides of the Atlantic. Today, while reading Marc Fisher’s book on American radio from the late 1940’s til the present, I was intrigued by a statistic on radio listener-ship in cars. So, in a real first for me, I looked read the notes section. A few end-notes up there was a note for “Miller, Flowers, 55.” After scanning the end-notes, I realized that yes, Fisher really did use Flowers in the Dustbin as a source. Which was when I came to the conclusion that Miller is haunting me. That’s it.

I’m nearly done reading On the Radio: Music Radio in Britain and, taking into account that the book was published in 1989, this is my conclusion: Blandness creates blandness. The author often sights the British public’s complaint of radio being bland and not offering enough variety. Radio, including BBC and ILRs, then retort that the blandness found in radio is the fault of record labels. Record labels then say that they pick acts based on what is popular which is determined by music charts. The charts in turn were created by BBC and ILRs to determine what is popular so they “give the people what they want.” And so on and so forth. What little variety there was, and still is, in radio is sectioned off to after 7pm and even then you couldn’t possibly cover all the minority tastes that exist, at least not under the system described in On the Radio. Therefore, blandness creates blandness. While I can’t say the following with any authority, what with not having just read a history of American music radio, the same kind of problem exists in the US, except we only have a handful of non-commercial radio stations as compared to the UK were they’re major radio system is completely non-commercial. The interesting thing is that, for better or worse, when the BBC started their radio broadcasting branch, being bland was almost the point. The actual point, at least in the minds of the founders (and many of the higher-ups who still work there) was to teach the listening public about music. Such paternalistic goals still existed, though in a far less obvious format, during the writing of On the Radio and I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they still existed today.

I know, as shocking as this, it’s a real review of the White Rabbits show last night. Brace yourself.

It’s not often a band can fool you into thinking their penultimate night of touring is actually their first night of touring. But given the amount of energy the White Rabbits had last night (about the same amount as 20 unmedicated ADHD kids) you wouldn’t be faulted for thinking just that. Although the audience seemed almost incapable of moving the band more than made up for the lack of energy emanating from that part of the room. The set, which seemed particularly short for a headlining act, was fast paced with only a handful of slow song to change the pace for the stagnant audience. The band, made up of two drummers, three guitarists, and one keyboardist, seemed to be having a ball though which in the end is all that matters sometimes.
Openers Greenland, a local DC and, kept a fast pace more akin to the White Rabbits than Miles…, who wouldn’t maybe been more at home opening for the Walkmen. All in all the gig was good, no matter how apathetic the audience seemed.

White Rabbits

1. Standford Town/Sea of Rum
2. While We Go Dancing
3. Dinner Party
4. Navy Wives
5. Fox Hunting
6. ?
7. Fort Nightly
8. I Use To Complain Now I Don’t
9. The Plot [with three tambourines]

Encore

• Take A Walk Around the Table
• Maggie’s Farm [a Bob Dylan cover]

Author’s Note: All apologies for the possibly poor quality of this entry. My brain is mush, but if I don’t write this now, I never will.
“Hi, this Nora (My last name) calling on behalf of Gloria Minott at WPFW…”
“News/Public Affairs Nora (my last name) speaking…”
Around the same time I really started getting into my radio show at UMW and when I realized I’d never make it as a journalist, I discovered I really liked idea of working in radio. I have no passion for American radio, mainly because almost completely owned by corporations that wouldn’t know good taste it if bit them in the bum, but British radio on the other hand is quite good. With the idea of being at least a producer, if not an actual DJ, firmly lodged in my brain, I applied for an internship at NPR. Unsurprisingly that didn’t pan out, but then my Mom (always the one with brilliant ideas) came up with a suggestion if I was serious about this whole radio thing: Volunteer at WPFW. The station, which is located in the Adams Morgan area of DC, is almost entirely volunteer based, save for a handful of actual employees, so I’m almost guaranteed a position of some sort. I liked the idea and so, after about two weeks of doing nothing when I came home from school, I gave the station a call to set up an interview to get a volunteer position archiving Gloria Minott’s old shows.
I’m now into my third week at WPFW and although not everyday is brilliant I have a much better appreciation for what goes into producing a half-hour news magazine radio show. I can also touch type the numbers line on a keyboard without peeking and can summarize shows I’ve never listened to. I also have a deep appreciation for shows such as Today, The View and everything shown on CNN. I also know how to tune out the above mentioned shows when necessary. I can answer phones and confuse people on the other end by simply answering the phone and not being the person they thought they were calling, a fact/skill that amuses me to no end. I also know how to set-up and/or confirm an interview and when it’s best to pass the phone over to Gloria because the person on the other end is asking me things I can’t help with. Although this isn’t exactly what I envisioned myself doing this summer, I get thanked Monday through Friday on air at 10am and can come home knowing I worked hard and accomplished something. It’s a good feeling.
So here I am, taking my first steps into the world of radio. Who knows, maybe in ten years time I really will be a producer on some British radio station. Lord knows there are enough of them.

Music critics are some of the most pretentious pricks known to man. Here is my reasoning:
In effort to broaden my horizons while also following the rules of the radio station, I’ve decided to feature one new album a week. For this week I was thinking of featuring Los Campesinos! who are a Welsh band that have gotten much attention and an A from the AV Club. However, I was also hoping to shed some light on the album/band I’m featuring and so I was gathering reviews from other outlets such as the NME, Drowned in Sound, and Fake DIY. This was obviously a bad idea because now I’m not going to be featuring Los Campesinos! and I think music critics are pretentious pricks with sticks up there asses and a God complex to beat the bands.
First we have Drowned in Sound. The reviewer, Dom Passantino, starts the review by bashing the demise of Britpop and then goes on to bash the Kinks. Now, I know I’m prejudice against anyone who bashes the Kinks, but I’m willing to accept such a bashing if it makes sense. And yes, I also understand the most people in Wales identify themselves first and foremost as Welsh and then British, but this does not mean they are somehow immune to what’s happening on the rest of the island. Making Wales out to be France is idiotic and claiming that someone from Wales could never be influenced by one the of the biggest names in rock (not just British rock) is even more idiotic. Culture permeates and can not be avoided, no matter how much wish it weren’t so. In making a claim otherwise you are showing cultural ignorance of the top order. So that’s Drowned in Sound.
The NME spends the first paragraph of it’s review talking about how good music goes beyond genre and how “indie” music is “more a mindset than a musical style, and one that values ideas, imagination and anti-sexist, anti-racist ideologies above record sales and profit margins.” The reviewer then goes on to say that musically the album is boring but lyrical provocative in that it sticks to the above mentioned epitaphs. Los Campesinos! are, as they say “a band to believe.” Just like every other indie band.
Thus far I’ve got pretentious culturally ignorant prick and bollocking grandiose prick. Let’s see what Fake DIY and the AV Club have to say about it.
AV Club: Twee!! But the good kind like Belle and Sebastian twee. Also, those lyrics, oh they are to die for.
Fake DIY: Lyrics!! And happiness!!! Hurrah!!!
So two pretentious and two taking the thing at face value and not reading into the album or bending it around to fit the reviewer’s views. As you can see music critics come in two forms: Pretentious dicks and people who actually enjoy music. Yes I analyse the Kinks and Kaiser Chiefs to death, but hypocrisy is my middle name and the Kinks were born to analyse. Kaiser Chiefs are another matter.