#475 - Bruce Springsteen - Tunnel of Love

So, it’s been said in numerous sources (including Springsteen’s book Songs) that Bruce could never begin to top the success of Born in the U.S.A., so that he was not going to attempt it. Instead, he decided to strip the music down and compose a more personal, heartfelt album. The crazy thing about this idea is that this is an incredibly difficult feat in itself. Mostly due to the fact that most people would want to push further into that which made them successful, but also, on the flip side to that argument, many bands have been chastised for leaving that which makes them great. There are two outcomes when choosing this path: it could destroy your career or it can add to your greatness (given that the new thing attempted is heralded by fans and critics alike). Admittedly, most fans were probably expecting another Born in the U.S.A., but thankfully The Boss decided to create Tunnel of Love.

An album of deeply constructed songs about relationships, but more importantly the tolls these relationships take on a person. The expectations that come along with relationships and the vulnerability they require. Although Springsteen denies the autobiographical nature of many of the songs included on the album, it is difficult not to diagnose the lyrics contained within this album as descriptions of his marriage with actress Julianne Phillips. The difficulty of maintaining a relationship can be seen throughout songs such as “Brilliant Disguise,” “Cautious Man,” and “Tunnel of Love.” Of course, there are the stock and standard Springsteen characters all over the album, as well, in songs such as “Spare Parts.”

The album begins with my least favorite song, “Ain’t Got You.” We’ve all heard this one before. Money doesn’t buy happiness…yadda yadda yadda. The song is stomachable and even a bit catchy, but it does nothing for me. The next song, though, kicks off what becomes a major theme within the album. “Tougher Than the Rest” tells the story of a man who will never be a “handsome Dan” or “sweet-talkin’ Romeo” and his affection towards a girl who may have been around the block a few times. The main character in the song doesn’t mind this fact appealing that he is tougher than all those other guys who may not accept the girl for who she may have been in the past. This is partly due to the fact that he may have been around, as well, but more so the man’s tough skin. “All that Heaven Will Allow” focuses on the courting of a girl and the excitement that follows. I’m fairly certain that Springsteen was also singing about getting into a girl’s pants, again. “Spare Parts” starts off with one of the weirdest first lines I’ve heard in a song; “Bobby said he’d pull out, Bobby stayed in, Janey had a baby, it wasn’t any sin.” And so begins a song about the hardships of reality and growing up. Bobby leaves Janey with a baby and life changes for the young girl. Eventually, she pulls herself back together and by the end of the song show a certain amount of promise. “Cautious Man” provides the listener with Bill Horton; a man with the words “love” and “fear” tattooed on his hands. This imagery as well as the title of the song tells the listener everything he/she needs to know about this song. It is deeply rooted in the fear that comes with loving another human being and the vulnerability this ultimately requires. It is a theme that continues with “Walk Like a Man” and “Tunnel of Love.” I personally love the picture that the title track paints for the listener while comparing the rollercoaster of a relationship to an amusement park ride. I love to sing along to this song, especially the first few lines describing the fat man accepting tickets to the ride whose eyes “take a walk” all over the narrator’s girl. “Two Faces” and “Brilliant Disguise” pull together the remnants of the album’s themes. “Brilliant Disguise” while being an extremely popular song does more to explain the hesitancies and inconsistencies of a relationship than most things I’ve heard or read in my life. It’s a hauntingly beautiful song. “When You’re Alone” follows up with a tale of two people going their separate ways and the alienation that such a parting provides. The album ends with “Valentine’s Day,” providing a fitting close to an album chockfull of heartbreak, fear, and uncertainty.

The Boss does everything right on this album. I listen to this album over and over and with each listen I believe it gets better. Even the video for “Brilliant Disguise” is thoroughly admirable in its’ simplicity; something Springsteen has mastered far better than most of his contemporaries.

-d.

I hate Bruce Springsteen. I know, I know. But I have to come clean. I find him stiff and derivative, a man clinging to his influences. Granted, he does a good job of imitating the better qualities of his heroes. Nonetheless, I get tired if listening to impressions, and this album is full of them. Elvis, Van Morrison, Bob Dylan, Pete Seeger…. they’re all here. Not hidden in the least, each song could be a cover, such is the extent of the infringement. I respect the deep emotion and intensely personal lyrics and can’t fault the man for the content in that respect. It’s just too bad these beautiful and heartbreaking stories couldn’t have been told with some musical originality.

With all that out of the way…. This is the second most depressing album yet. Only Richard Thompson tops Tunnel Of Love for sheer morbidity and torment. As an emotional masochist I have to admit that earns Bruce some points in my book. At the same time, the trappings of 80’s pop music take some of the edge away. It’s hard to really feel the despondency of a slow country blues about the end of a relationship when in the midst of a finger picking guitar refrain you get blindsided by a huge blast of Korg synthesizer. I love the big Phil Collins drum echo, but it really has no place in a Guthrie-esque folk turn. And why….why the random overdriven guitar solo in the middle of "Two Faces?" If you’re going to harmonize fuzz guitar like that, just get Brian May and do it right.

There are some really nice moments here. "Valentine’s Day" is hazy reflection of Gordon Lightfoot. The quiet mandolin underplays the keys, and the simple breezy bassline plays off the root just enough to keep the listener tuned in. My favorite song here by a mile. The first half of the album is all solid, but also sees Bruce aping at his worst. Still, I prefer these songs ("Tougher Than the Rest" and "Spare Parts") over the latter half’s typical 80’s Springsteen pop. So often the last 5 songs or so (leaving out "Valentine’s") run together in an imperceptible mess of Xerox copy singer-songwriter junk. Like so many similar artist from the time, he may be an expert with words, but he shoves them all into the same basic mold. Over time, it just wears more and more on me until I give up and put on an artist with some energy. It’s amazing how often Springsteen leads me to the Dead Kennedy’s.

While we’re on an artist that let his emulation of his heroes become an obsessive quest to be them, here’s the female equivalent; Patti Smith, with her brilliant version of Bruce’s unreleased "Because The Night."

-tfm

#476 - The Paul Butterfield Blues Band - Self-Titled

The Paul Butterfield Blues Band’s self-titled album came out in 1965. Today it strikes a person as just one more blues album, but given the racial tension of the 60’s the album’s mixture of ethnicities is staggering. Aside from being a jumpin’ album highlighting the guitar genius of Michael Bloomfield and Elvis Bishop, the album was able to take a genre of music primarily associated with black culture and introduce it to white surburbanites. Perhaps, what is most impressive, aside from the fact that Butterfield was one of the first white lead singer’s in African-American dominated blues, is that half of the group were underage city kids.

Paul Butterfield, the wealthy son of a Chicago lawyer, and college classmate Elvis Bishop began the early blueprint of what would become The Paul Butterfield Blues Band in the early 60’s, but it wasn’t until the two were introduced to Jerome Arnold and Sam Lay while mixing it up with such blues heroes as Muddy Waters that the band began to take shape. As the story goes, Michael Bloomfield was just a temporary musician playing alongside the band until Elektra Records (out of Cincinnati, OH) producer Paul Rothchild suggested the band hire Bloomfield as a full-time member. The rest is white-boy blues history. The band went on to play the Newport Folk Festival (some members even played alongside Bob Dylan during his famous electric set) in 1965.

The music itself is straightforward electric blues. Listening to it now, one likens it to countless other examples of the blues, but at its’ time the band brought a genre of music that maintained a spot in the American underground to the forefront of the nation’s culture. The album is easily listenable, providing a great road soundtrack, background music while cleaning the house, and of course providing toe-tapping gyrations of the body. If you’re looking to be blown away by a blues album during today’s current musical situation this is probably not the album for you. There are probably countless other blues musicians a person would pass Butterfield over for in the quickly diminishing record store, but I advise at least a listen. Tracks such as “Screamin’” provide the listener with impressive feats of fretwork and the horns of nearly every song are dance inducing numbers. “Our Love is Drifting” reminds me of some sad schmuck drowning his/her sorrows in a neon twilight, as is “Last Night.” My one complaint is that a few of the songs appear to be carbon copies of one another. For instance, “I Got My Mojo Working” and “Mystery Train” seem to have the same construction, but at different tempos.

Overall, I understand the album’s inclusion due to its’ historical significance, but I don’t see this as an album one would consistently put on for a listen. It contains monumental instrumentation, but lacks memorable tracks that stick in your brain. Unless you are a huge blues buff, this album will probably make a few rotations and then fall back into obscurity on your iTunes library. I know that is most likely its’ fate on mine.

This album’s cover is brought to you by this “star-studded” group. Check out the young man on guitar. Incredible.

-d.

The self-titled debut album from The Paul Butterfield Blues Band has proven difficult for me to review. It’s a solid collection with great musicians obliterating some typical blues numbers. The instrumental tracks are exemplary. But something just isn’t catching me. Maybe it’s the twenty-something white guy singing the blues, but I don’t feel much heart and soul in this. The songs are individually great and fun to listen to, but as a record I get lost halfway through. The whole thing keeps falling into the tiny space where I like an album but have no emotional interest in it.

I’ll start with my favorite song. "I Got My Mojo Working" is a great example of the uptempo dancehall style of Chicago blues that you probably know from the chase scenes in The Blues Brothers. Nonstop ride cymbal, chugging bass and guitar accents all come together to give the impression of a fast train, a quality I always enjoy in this type of music. Problem is, like most of the songs, the lyrics are completely forgettable. Even with my other favorite numbers like "Mellow Down Easy" or "Blues With Feeling" the lyrics seem plainly uninspired. It feels like some kid listened to a bunch of blues records and wrote his version of what he heard. Which is exactly what it is, same as early Rolling Stones. But to me that isn’t an excuse. Write about what you know. When you sing songs about a life you can’t really understand it’s going to be a failure every time.

Of course like I often do, I’m being hard on Paul. He was only 23 when this album came out. His musicianship, and that of the friends and session guys he brought together, can’t be besmirched. There’s so much talent on display here it’s shocking, and the extended instrumental sections have to be heard by anone who calls themselves music fans. Specifically the end of "Screamin’." Also," Our Love Is Drifting" is the exception that proves the rule. It’s full of passion. But throughout this album the stereotypical lyrics and, at times, detached delivery keep me from becoming invested in the music.

A double cover! People pretending to be one band while playing the music of another.

#477 - The Fugees - The Score

On the other side of my previous argument that rap is a genre that struggles to age well over the years is The Fugees' The Score. An album that perfectly blends a multitude of styles and genres, The Score is a testament to great music that takes you back to a time when you were young. Although the album is definitely 90's and lacks the swagger and glamor of contemporary artists, it is a fantastic example of what rap is capable of and the road it would take leading up to the current state of the genre.

The most recognizable and successful track on the album is definitely the wonderful cover of Roberta Flack's "Killing Me Softly." To be honest, I dig Lauren Hill and company's version of this song even more than the spectacular original. Despite its massive pop appeal (you could not turn on music television or the radio without hearing the song), "Killing Me Softly" is just one among an album of great tracks. The samples utilized on The Score are fun and wonderfully arranged. For instance, the sample taken from The Flamingos' "I Only Have Eyes for You" on "Zealots" is, perhaps, my favorite part of the album. Other samples include artists ranging from The Moody Blues to Enya to Bob Marley.

"Ready or Not" and "Fu-gee-la" along with the Flack cover are The Fugees at their best. Listening to this album now, I am incredibly saddened that this would be the last album The Fugees put out. While Wyclef has had his hands on a number of different projects (my favorite being his solo-release Carnival), I long for the days that the three of these talented artists combined forces to create something so eclectically phenomenal. Do yourself a favor; listen to this album and appreciate what a great year 1996 was for those of us who were finding ourselves at the time.

-d.

I’m writing this intro before I’ve started the cd. I have mixed expectations here. On one hand, I remember how inescapable The Score was, with a mix of soul and backpacker hip hop. But was I only impressed due to my youth? Were the lyrics that brilliant and the singing so beautiful? Despite commercial success, none of the Fugees has done much quality work since. Lauryn Hill had the only critically acclaimed album to come from the three. I have to wonder if Wyclef just lost his skill with words, or if he never really had it. Time to find some headphones and see….

The answers come quick. Wyclef can’t rap. Lauryn was such an immense talent. Praz is….there. Maybe I’m being harsh. Wyclef has some interesting things to say, he just uses so many corny analogies and gets a bit mush mouthed at times. He gets shown up by Praz, who doesn’t rely on accents to the same level. It’s a shame Praz hasn’t done more music since the Fugees breakup. His verses are filled with expert wordplay. He just lacks the charisma of his old cohorts. Then there’s Ms. Hill. So much ability packed into a beautiful package. She could out-rap anyone in the 90’s at her best, and sang with enough passion to do right by Roberta Flack. Unfortunately, she’s apparently a whole big bag of crazy. She sabotaged her own career by running from the industry, releasing odd statements and terrible leaked singles. During the short-lived Fugees reunion she reportedly requested everyone call her Miss or Empress. She’s taken to wearing ridiculous makeup and outfits onstage, regularly getting booed off by her audience for her rambling, often spoken word. performances. It’s like a modern R&B equivalent of Syd Barrett.

The Score is a masterpiece, though. By far the best work of any of the three members discographies, it’s great samples and perfect beats from front to back. Aside from some pointless attempts at the obligatory “rap sketch” there isn’t a wasted moment. There is always a message to be broadcast, always an emotion to transmit to the listener. You can’t exaggerate Hill’s talent. She had the magic that allowed her to not just tell a story, but actually make you live it. "The Mask" is one of those moments. She has a conversation with herself that feels like you walked between to girls on the street. It also has one of the most laidback, jazzy loops on the album. Great rainy day listening. "Fu-Gee-La" is the real showcase. For all the deserved praise of "Killing Me Softly," it’s two tracks earlier that every member of the group gives their very best. Great verses from everyone, a perfect hook and a sublime rhythm track. One of those songs I can hear all day and not get sick of.

In the end, The Score more than lives up to my memories. It’s fantastic from start to finish. The only complaints I have are the aforementioned skits and the questionable cover of "No Woman No Cry." But those are very minor concerns. It’s sad that we won’t hear something like this again. It’s so hard to find this much skill in one group, and with the inability of the Fugees to get passed their egos and disagreements, we can’t look to them to be that rare gem. But at least we’ve got this album to hold on to.

#478 - LL Cool J - Radio

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Rap is one genre that does not age very well. Case in point: LL Cool J's Radio. Upon its release, Radio was a groundbreaking album, well known for its hard hitting beats and storytelling lyricism. It was the first album release on Rick Rubin and Russell Simmons founded Def Jam Records. Listening to it now, I honestly just had a hard time getting through it.

In high school, I owned my fair share of LL albums: Mama Said Knock You Out, Mr. Smith, Phenomenon, and G.O.A.T. Looking back on them now, I don't feel the same way about them as I once did (barring a few select tracks). That is not to say I was every astounded by LL, but I found him relatively enjoyable (besides his constant focus on his lips and abs). (For reference, just press play on the link twice...don't worry about the high or low buttons) The point is I am able to name tracks off those albums that I would listen to at this point in time, even though not one of them would be included in my top 20 favorite rap songs. Unfortunately, Radi0 only provides me with one re-listenable track ("Rock the Bells").

This album is part of the particular group included on "greatest" lists due to their groundbreaking merit, despite their inability to capture modern listeners. It was one of the first rap albums to reach such a high magnitude of record sales. It was a fresh addition to the still newly emerging rap genre. Unfortunately, it just doesn't grab me and I am fairly positive Mike will reciprocate my argument.

No cover this week. Instead, LL Cool J's shining moment. Check out the 7:30 mark.

.d

Look, I love LL. I really don’t think you can find a more genuinely likable guy in rap. So don’t take any of the following complaints as dislike for the artist. I just don’t get this albums place on the list. It’s a good album, and it has historical significance out the ass. But does it really deserve to be higher than the albums we’ve already reviewed? Is this a better rap record than Life After Death? I’m not sure I can answer either of those in the affirmative. Undoubtedly this is one of the most influential pieces of hip hop, being the first to use traditional pop music formats (verse-chorus-verse-chorus)., but I don’t think this is even LL’s best. That would probably be Momma Said Knock You Out (in my opinion a more ambitious record).

Nonetheless, there’s a reason people voted Radio on the list. Right off the bat you get hit with Rick Rubin’s sparse production. Rubin has always been good at creating great music without having one typical sound that defines him. He’s the anti-Lil Jon. You actually have to get four tracks deep before you’ll find an instrument other than drums. The occasional piano of "I Can Give You More" keeps the album from getting to monotonous, and right in the nick of time. The positive side to the bare bones beats is LL’s insane lyrics. The kid was light years ahead of anyone else at the time. "I Can’t Live Without My Radio" is a nonstop assault, tearing apart everything that rap had been before the day Radio was released.

"Dangerous" might be the best boast track ever. This song, above all others here, should be required listening for any prospective mc. The only issue I have with it is that about half the song is just drumbeat with random scratching. That can get a tad boring, but the lyrical play is just too good to knock the song. "I Need A Bea"t was the hit single, which baffles me. Mostly a showoff track for DJ Cut Creator, it doesn’t have much to offer from LL’s standpoint. The constant cutting throws the beat off every stanza, which game me a wicked headache. Maybe it was top level deejaying at the time, but it’s practically prehistoric by today’s standards.

Maybe that’s part of my problem. For what was a groundbreaking album, it now seems to define an era that hasn’t aged all that well. The vocal’s are undeniable. You could put new music to them and half a hit any time you chose. But the production, while top shelf in 1985, has been rendered so obsolete by the advances Rubin himself has been most responsible for. So basically, Rick Rubin is so good at pushing the evolution of hip hop that he has made his older work sound bland. That says a hell of a lot about one man's talent and ability to stay relevant. Unfortunately, LL Cool J hasn’t had the same ability.

Here’s two competing covers. Lagwagon vs. Street Sweeper Social Club

-TFM

#479 - I Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight - Richard and Linda Thompson

If you feel you may need Zoloft, or have recently questioned life’s futility in anyway, do NOT listen to this album. You will be found with a belt around your neck. Things are pretty bleak by Richard Thompson’s view. On the other hand, if you have the strength to listen to this with an open mind, you can find some real beauty. The lyrics seem sad and depressed, but much like Harry Chapin or Leonard Cohen actually are more about a fascination with the art of surviving real life. If you can see what’s pretty about a dirty alley you will enjoy this.

First impressions of the music are interesting. A unique mix of almost American country with British folk. Acoustic guitar backed by pan flute. Blues interrupted by a renaissance quartet. There’s no fear in these arrangements. It’s obvious to say that Thompson had no care for conventions. Yet it never sounds wrong. Somehow it always ties together. "Has He Got a Friend For Me" is a great example. In the beginning it could be mistaken for the Flying Burrito Brothers, then in come the wood flutes. Beautiful song though.

"The End of the Rainbow" is one of the most beautiful melodies I’ve heard. At it’s heart a very simple song it builds itself around a very open arrangement, allowing for lots of space to layer the different instruments. All of which lets the most dismal worldview ever put to song come through the lyrics. This is just the first verse and chorus:

I feel for you, you little horror

Safe at your mother's breast

No lucky break for you around the corner

'Cause your father is a bully

And he thinks that you're a pest

And your sister she's no better than a whore.

Life seems so rosy in the cradle,

But I'll be a friend I'll tell you what's in store

There's nothing at the end of the rainbow.

There's nothing to grow up for anymore

Yup. About sums that up, huh? I’ll wait while you go call a suicide prevention hotline.

Back? ……No?

………uh oh……

In all seriousness, this is quickly becoming my favorite discovery from the list so far. Most the really great albums I was already at least familiar with, but this one was completely new to me. I’d heard covers of one or two of these songs, not knowing the were covers. After a few listenings I’m ready to go on a road trip with this album playing, which for me says a lot. The title track is classic, as is "Withered and Died" (the most country song on here). I can’t delve too deeply into breaking each song down, as I don’t want to lessen the impact for anyone, but I need to add that Linda‘s voice is a perfect match. At times soft, at others strong, her sense of underplayed drama just adds to the creeping allure of the music. This is by far the most emotional music for me that we have reviewed, and I can’t recommend it highly enough. Especially for you cynics out there.

-the fat man

Once in awhile an album comes along that has been around for years and makes you re-evaluate your musical tastes. I Want to See the Bright Lights tonight is one of those albums for me. The minute I heard "The Calvary Cross" I got chills. Yep, that good. And just when I thought it couldn't get any better, the album included a live version of the song. Blew me away. I listen to it daily.

This album just does everything right and is extremely accessible, despite being a folk album. By which I mean, some folk albums get you weird looks from passengers in your car when they come on. This one, on the other hand, received this reaction: "Man, this song sounds fuckin' awesome. Who is this?"

From "When I Get to the Border" to the closing lines of "The Great Valerio," this album is an example of songwriting and musical composition done right. The album perfectly blends both Richard and Linda Thompson and allows them the ability to showcase their talents. Both artists are granted the right to show off their vocal pipes and rightfully so. While Richard provides the traditional male folk singer feel to the album, Linda offers us soulful ballads reminiscent of a Emmylou Harris type of female vocalist. Her voice is so effective that the listener disregards the lyrics which border on the verge of pitiful, especially on the track "Has He Got a Friend for Me."
With such a vast array of themes and subjects, the album could have definitely appeared scattered and haphazard. Instead, tracks such as "The Great Valerio," "Border," "The Calvary Cross," and the title track fuse to create something unique and wonderful.

I can't say enough about this album. I just read Mike's review and laughed because he shares my exact sentiments on this disc. By far, my favorite discovery and the exact reason we decided to undergo this epic (and often times, impossible) feat.

Switched it up this time around......M. Ward and Zooey cover.

-d.

#480 - George Michael - Faith

Let me just preface this post with this statement:

George Michael's Faith ranks pretty highly on my list of guilty pleasures, especially "One More Try."

Growing up, I thought George Michael was as cool as it gets. I mean, just look at the supermodels gracing his videos. Wow. As I grew up, my naivete faded and I found out that homosexuals existed in the world. This is in no way a criticism or slam against homosexuals. Instead, at such a young age I just wasn't aware homosexuals existed. Looking back, I have no idea how I didn't know. I mean, just listen to the lyrics of the album and you have to acknowledge that most of the adult world had to know. For God's sake, look at the Wham! videos. Enough said.

This album is pop gold. "Faith" with its iconic video that all but created the look of 'designer stubble.' "Father Figure" whose video has Michael stalker model Tania Coleridge. Do I really need to say anything about "I Want Your Sex" and its multiple parts. I believe it speaks for itself. Even the censors couldn't keep this song quiet. It blew up on the Billboard charts. And with a song titled "Monkey;" again, how did the world not catch on.

Catchy rhythms. Subtle funk elements. Pop bliss. I wish I had more to write about this album, but I believe the record speaks for itself. Michael did nothing spectacularly original, innovative, or even creative, but he did deliver a singable and danceable album.

Some may have thought I would include Limp Bizkit's version of "Faith." Those people are wrong.My choices this week: One rendition of "Faith" that was so awesome (the girl seems cool as hell, too) I had to include it. The other, so awful I only got through :30 of it.

-d.


Great timing to get to this album. While it appears George Michael has put his musical career on the back burner, he manages to keep himself in the news through his frequent arrests and basic self destruction. I’ve always been a fan, even of some the cornier Wham! songs, but the man can’t turn around without making himself into another punch line. But what of Faith, his first solo effort?

There’s really no better way you could start your first album than with a classic like Faith. No point in even talking about the song, as everyone has heard it. Then you throw "Father Figure" at everyone next? Ok, so Mister Panayiotou wanted to make a statement right off the bat. A little touch of synth-r&b with some gospel, and possibly an offer to teach the listener the pleasures of sweet man love. Stylistically it marks the emergence of Michael’s obsession with trying to sound like Freddie Mercury. Normally that’s a bad sign, but he’s pretty much the only singer in pop music with the voice to pull it off. Oh Queen, why did you take Paul Rodgers instead?

So maybe we can get a break from the run of singles? No? "I want Your Sex" was the first release from the album and pretty much got banned everywhere. It seems pretty tame in retrospect, but I vaguely remember hearing it on the radio and my seven year old mind exploding. It really isn’t half as graphic as its inspiration, Queen’s Hot Space album, specifically "Body Language" and" Get Down Make Love." Things finally lay off a bit as the record finally has to give us some breathing room. "One More Try" is a perfect prom season slow jam and was the third single to top the charts in a row ("Sex" peaked at number 2 despite the lack of play). "Hard Day" and "Hand To Mouth" are both typical 80’s club songs. Both good, but not really anything that stands out.

"Look At Your Hands" is a somewhat misguided attempt at getting bluesy. Again, it’s not bad, just misplaced and way out of George’s comfort range. He brings back the groove with "Monkey," the fourth and final number one. Not my cup of tea, but I can definitely imagine a rush of teenagers rushing to a dance floor or roller rink in white wash jeans and Relax t-shirts 23 years ago. Things end on the surprisingly nice jazz number, "Kissing A Fool." Seriously, you could hear this from a combo at your local jazz club. It’s a typical torch song, with Michael singing the part usually reserved for the breathless blond with a slit to her thigh. Trust me, it works.

It’s a great album. That’s why three of the songs ("Faith," "Father Figure," "Sex") are still common on the radio and in movies. I’m actually surprised it wasn’t ranked higher. I guess his reputation as lightweight pop from the Wham! days still carries over. Or maybe it’s the repeated arrests. Whatever. It’s a classic.

Cover is NIN doing some of the Queen I mentioned earlier (since Danny probably has a good one already). Check it.

#481 - The Smiths

I’ve tended to avoid The Smiths. I was just a bit too young to have listened to them before they broke up, and I found Morrisey’s solo efforts to be a bit pretentious and not really all that good. In turn, I never saw a reason to give his original band a shot. This album goes a long ways to making me reconsider my views. The Smiths were very similar to R.E.M., but more aggressive, much more rooted in punk. You can hear a fair bit of The Jam and Gang Of Four spread throughout, but Johnny Marr uses the same jangling guitar sound Peter Buck made famous in the U.S.
One of the things that made it hardest for me to get into the songs here is the icon himself. Morrisey has an annoying tendency to try to overtake a great riff with a dramatic moan. His voice is at it’s best when he sings in his lower register, with an almost disinterested sound. On a song like Miserable Lie he becomes a distraction when piping out random falsetto vocalizations over one of the heavier rhythm tracks. Freddie Mercury was an obvious hero, but he doesn’t have the voice or the outrageous flair that allowed Freddie to pull it off.
That’s not to say his performance is without merit. The Hand That Rocks The Cradle stands out with some of his better work. Despite the somewhat creepy lyrics (which despite denials from the band, seem to be pretty obviously about love for an underage acquaintance) it’s one of the best songs overall on the album. Great use of Marr’s arpeggio-laden guitar, smooth bass playing and very nice vocals. The drumming is pretty much the same as on the rest of the record; competent. There’s really no place in these songs for any flashy hi-hat or snare fills, but I wish he’d do something to mix it up a tad. Most songs have the same simple pop beat.
This Charming Man may be the best song here. Somehow, both ridiculously poppy and darkly obsessive. It’s like Walking On Sunshine adapted by someone on lithium. You can really hear how they influenced a generation of alternative bands though. Blur, Oasis, the Cranberries, the Housemartins and even Barenaked Ladies all wear their love for the Smiths on their sleeves.
The album goes out on a suitably morbid note with Suffer Little Children. The song created a stir when it was released, for mentioning some of the victims of the Moors Murders by name. The song is honestly on the disturbing side. For me it’s not the subject matter, just the comfort with which Morrisey can sing the lyrics, as well as the probably unnecessary use of a woman’s laughter (a reference to Myra Hindley, one of the murderers who was once described as the most evil woman in Britain).
A solid album, and from a historical perspective probably worthy of inclusion. But for me it’s just a nice distraction. I can’t really explain it, maybe it’s the lack of any big moments or emotional high points, but this one just didn’t grab me in the way I’d want from a record included in this list. Nowhere near bad, just not that enjoyable for me.

-tfm

Warning: The Smiths are not a band you want to pop into your car stereo to go for a summer drive.....especially with another person in the car. It only makes for an awkward drive. Actually, I've always felt The Smiths are a band best enjoyed alone. This probably explains the influence it has had upon certain bands. I don't like labeling music. I find it absurd and a simple outlet for those who are narrow-minded in their musical tastes. That being said, The Smiths are a definitive inspiration for the 'emo' music scene. Actually, I initially gave The Smiths a listen based upon a lyric from Brand New's "Mix Tape." Before then, I had only heard The Smiths as mentioned in Marilyn Manson's book The Long Hard Road Out of Hell (it was not a glowing statement in regards to the band or its listeners). I believe I was a freshman in high school when the Manson book came out, which reveals how young and naive my musical tastes were back then.

Regardless, The Smiths are a band I enjoy, at times, but I do find significant fault and considerable irritation at the warbling mentioned in Mike's critique. It's grating and unnecessary while dampening the genius of Marr's workmanship on the guitar. Morrissey has moments that showcase his unique and phenomenal voice, but he also has the inability to realize where the line signifying "over the top" is located and consistently steps over that line. Fortunately, this does nothing to sully the greatness of "Reel Around the Fountain," "You've Got Everything Now," "Pretty Girls Make Graves," and "This Charming Man."

Another great thing about The Smiths is their ability to write great and affecting lyrics that could be considered modern day odes to loss, love, and sometimes murder. In fact, "Suffer Little Children" is a creepy, but emotionally affecting account of the Moor Murders. While listening to this song, all I could think about was the painting of "Moor Murder"-er Myra Hindley (who along with her boyfriend, Ian Brady, murders five children between the ages of 5-10) constructed solely out of children handprints I saw at the Saachi Gallery in London, England a number of years back. I felt chills while looking at the painting and reading the back story. Those same chills came back upon listening to this album's conclusion.

I give this album a passing grade in terms of great albums, but mostly due for the inspiration it brought other artists. On the other hand, it does not make a lot of other lists due to its inaccessibility. This makes me wonder (and perhaps even wish I could witness) how the album was received and played during its release. Was the music scene accepting of such an album? Did friends play it at parties, in their cars, or simply locked away alone in their rooms? These questions plague my mind at inopportune times and for extended periods. I'm weird.

I decided to give this album's video to the man himself, Morrissey, due to its absolute over the top dramatic delivery. I personally love the "Agh!" outbursts and arm flairs.

-d.