Day 199: The Go – Whatcha Doin’

15 Sep

Suzy Don’t Leave

I did it!  I successfully tracked down some Jack White guitar work that I haven’t heard before!  White Week will not be a (total) loss after all!

Unfortunately, I couldn’t find any good Jack White music that I haven’t previously listened to, but beggars can’t be choosers.

Before The White Stripes (right before—this record came out in 1999, the same year as TWS’ debut) Jack White was the lead guitarist in a band called The Go.  As far as I can tell, this is the only record of theirs that he played on—he must have said to himself “I am capable of so much more than this.  I’ll prove it by starting a two-person band.  Where my wife, who has never so much as looked at a hi-hat before, will play the drums.”  And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how America’s greatest duo came to be.  Maybe.

Anyway, the one redeeming thing about this mostly-lame knockoff ’60s rock is—you guessed it—White’s work on the guitar.  This man can shred.  But for some reason, in a move as obnoxious as the group’s name, they decided to rarely let Jack go crazy.

The Go’s music almost sounds like a prelude to The Raconteurs, a later band of Jack’s.  Both are much more classic-rock-minded than TWS, and I even hear a little Brendan Benson in the lead singer.  Fortunately, The Raconteurs utilize Jack’s abilities, and as a result, haven’t faded into greater obscurity.  Yes, I know that those guys came around well after Jack White achieved stardom, but I’m trying to make a point here.

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Day 198: Karen Elson – The Ghost Who Walks

14 Sep

Cruel Summer

With Day 200 getting uncomfortably close, White Week will keep on truckin’.  Today, I gave the Jack White drummed, produced, and released The Ghost Who Walks a listen.  Sure, the album technically belongs to his now ex-wife, but there’s a ton of Jack all over it.

Karen Elson tried to escape the shadow cast by her former husband on this record, she really did—I give her props for that.  Unfortunately for Ms. Elson, when it comes to music, Jack White’s shadow is ever-expanding in every direction.  When he’s going to drum on, produce, and above all, be married to the actual artist on a record, it’s impossible to look at it as just another TMR release.

I’ve got to admit, though, this is a pretty cool album.  When singing, Elson loses her British accent completely, which leaves her sounding almost like a country singer.  They took advantage of that, as fiddles and country guitar can be heard all over this record.  It’s not country to the point of Loretta Lynn’s also Jack-produced Van Lear Rose, but it gets close.  Cruel Summer, for example, would only be out of place on country radio because country radio is absolutely terrible.

This record proves that Karen Elson’s got talent.  She can write decent lyrics, and I think it’s her on guitar as well for the most part.  Now that she’s divorced, I’d love to see her put out an album that’s not on Jack White’s label.  I doubt that she’d be able to completely escape skepticism caused by that marriage, but it’d help her image just a bit if White’s good-but-unnecessary drum fills weren’t happening every other second.

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Day 197: ZZ Top – Degüello

13 Sep

I’m Bad, I’m Nationwide

“Given that Jack featured a custom white Billy Gibbons/Bo Diddley signature Gretsch Jupiter Thunderbird guitar in the Another Way to Die video, I will assign you an album by Billy Gibbons’ band, ZZ Top.  I hope you enjoy Deguello.”

Seriously, dad?  That’s the best you can do?  I know you said you were going to have to play six degrees of Jack White when deciding on this week’s record for Dad-Rock Tuesday, but this seems like a pretty big stretch.

You’re the boss, though.  So today, for Day 3 of White Week, I’ll be listening to a record by ZZ Top.  Yeah, those guys with the 5-foot beards who have been around longer than Dinosaurs.

I was guaranteed to like this record from the start because I’m a huge sucker for blues-rock in any form.  Seriously, I like all of it.  My problem is that I can’t tell the good stuff from the bad stuff.  If there’s some intriguing distorted guitars and typical bluesy lyrics, chances are that I’ll be hooked.  There’s a reason I’m a huge fan of Jack White.

Regardless, I’m pretty sure that Degüello is a solid record.  As goofy as ZZ Top may seem externally, I’ve always found that I enjoy their music.  It’s as standard as blues-rock gets, but that’s right down my alley.  With lyrics about hookups and breakups, guns and cars, this is about as much as one can ask for out of an album like this.  I just wish that I understood the artwork.  I think the music factory had an Iron Maiden overstock or something.

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Day 196: The Von Bondies – Lack of Communication

12 Sep

Nite Train

Jack White Week rolls on, and we will be examining The Von Bondies’ Lack of Communication today.  As far as I can tell, White didn’t actually play on this record, but I don’t have many other options—I really have listened to almost everything that he has played on.  Plus, with Jack on production, this record sounds pretty close to a lost work by The White Stripes.

As any good fan knows, Jack White has a lot of history with The Von Bondies, specifically with front man Jason Stollsteimer.  While the exact story isn’t crystal clear, here’s what I’ve pieced together.  Both rock bands in Detroit that formed within a couple of years of each other, The White Stripes and The Von Bondies were bound to cross paths a few times.  The White Stripes got a little bigger a little faster, but the groups became friendly.  The Bondies opened a few shows for The Stripes, and Jack even produced some of their music.  Then, at a release party in 2003, Jack and Jason got in a little fight.  Things got messy, Jason pressed charges, and Mr. White had to attend a series of anger management classes.  It’s safe to assume that the guys aren’t friends any longer.

The Jack White-produced Lack of Communication shows us what could have been.  It actually sounds a lot like an early White Stripes record, almost like a hybrid of their self-titled debut and De Stijl.  Lack of Communication is gritty, mysterious, but somehow maintains a great deal of catchiness.  I could have sworn that Jack was providing vocals after first listening to a few tracks, but it’s not him.  Without him on production, though, who knows what this would have ended up sounding like.

Perhaps this is just a fan lamenting the loss of his once-favorite band.  While this record may sound like The White Stripes, it’s not.  The drumming is too…rhythmic, and there’s a bass player. While this is okay as a substitute, nothing replaces the real thing.  I’m going to listen to White Blood Cells now.

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Day 195: Danger Mouse & Daniele Luppi – Rome

11 Sep

Two Against One

As Day 200 draws closer and closer, I’ve decided to declare the next seven days White Week!  But don’t go running for your hooded robes and wooden crosses, you racist. This week belongs to Jack White, the insanely talented former guitarist of The White Stripes, I hope the former drummer of mediocre The Dead Weather, and quite possibly the current guitarist of The Raconteurs.  Jack White has been a prominent name in the music industry for over a decade now.  The only problem is that as a fairly obsessive fan of his, I’ve heard nearly everything that he’s ever released.  This week will feature the few recordings (albums only, of course) that I have yet to hear by him, as well as some LPs that he has produced.  I’ve informed my father of the theme for this week, and as a Jack White fan himself, I’m sure he’ll have an idea for Dad-Rock Tuesday.

For an album “starring” Jack White, there sure isn’t all that much Jack White in Rome.  That’s all good in my book, though.  This record’s strange concept and surprising listenability make up for the lack of Jack.

Rome is a soundtrack to a nonexistent movie. It pays homage to spaghetti westerns of the ’60s, and heavily features chanting by the reunited The Good, the Bad and the Ugly choir.  Without lyrics for most of its 35 minutes, Rome really does sounds like it should accompany a film.  It creates a serene and eerie atmosphere, which is only exacerbated when Jack White and Norah Jones make their limited appearances.

While this definitely isn’t how I envisioned opening up White Week, I still thoroughly enjoyed this album.  Rome sounds nothing like Jack White’s trademarked brand of gritty garage-blues-rock, but I’ll admit, it’s a really cool idea that is executed well.  It would have been nice to hear Jack on guitar at some point in the record, though.

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Day 194: Echo & the Bunnymen – Ocean Rain

10 Sep

The Yo-Yo Man

Sometimes it’s a shame that records are only about 40 minutes long.  The Hold Steady’s Boys and Girls in America could go on for an additional hour, and I wouldn’t complain.  Treats by Sleigh Bells could play on a never-ending Infinite Jest-style loop, and I’d be a happy camper.  There are some records where 40 minutes is 40 too many, though.

Well, more like 37 minutes and 23 seconds, to be exact.

Congratulations Echo & the Bunnymen, you and your record Ocean Rain embody absolutely everything that I cannot stand about music.  Now that takes something special.

As far as I’m concerned, this album set the standard for the wave of pretentiousness in music that followed its release.  TV on the Radio, Grizzly Bear, and Radiohead combined don’t hold a candle to these guys.  Front man Ian McCulloch masquerades behind faux-intelligence, heavy vocal echos, and a general sense of terrible-human-being-ness.  Just look at this picture.  You’ve “decided to wear your thorn of crowns,” have you?  Well thanks a lot McCulloch, I’m really glad that you are here to die for our sins.  A lack of indoor-sunglass-wearing  is the problem that I’ve always had with other messiahs.

I probably wouldn’t even notice the pretentiousness if it weren’t for the sheer boringness that finds a home in every nook and cranny of this record.  It’s not just the lyrics—the music’s “minimalist” approach just comes off as lazy.  If you’re going to have terrible lyrics, at least try to hide them behind something.

Bad records don’t make me angry—we all need something to laugh at sometimes.  Bad records that are lauded with praise, on the other hand, irk me like nothing else.  Seriously, what is it exactly that people saw in this band?  Please, someone enlighten me.

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Day 193: Honest Bob and the Factory-to-Dealer Incentives

9 Sep

I Get By

I pulled out Rock Band last night.  I’ve been listening to Boston’s Foreplay/Long Time a lot over the past few days, and I suddenly had the urge to play along on some plastic video-game-controller-drums. One part premature nostalgia, and another part procrastination inspired me to dig up my old Rock Band disc, turn on my PS3, and proceed to hit 96% and get a 232-note streak on the expert difficulty level.  Not a personal best or anything, but what can you expect from someone who hasn’t played in a couple of years?

I was scrolling through the song list, and heard a clip from my what was my favorite track on the game way back when…no, it wasn’t Bowie’s Suffragette City or The Stone’s Gimme Shelter.  In a hilarious bit of foreshadowing, my most-played track was a post-game unlockable song by an indie rock band that I had never heard of.  Honest Bob and the Factory-to-Dealer Incentives’ I Get By remains a favorite of mine to this day, but it’s taken me until now to listen to a full record by this band.

And that’s a shame, because Second and Eighteen is a great record.

With eighteen quirky tracks about being rear-ended, the Time Cube, Star Wars, boy geniuses, pollution, and everything in between, Honest Bob have the potential to be today’s They Might Be Giants.  Two things need to happen first, though:

  • TMBG need to retire.  ASAP.
  • Honest Bob needs to acquire a fan base of some sort.

Why this band remains virtually unknown is a mystery to me.  This isn’t particularly inaccessible music, and it’s got a unique enough sound to cultivate an extremely dedicated and obsessive group of fans.

Their last record came out in 2008, so maybe getting some new music out there would help.  They’re still playing shows, so we know they’re not dead.  Maybe the fourth album will be the charm for these guys.

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Day 192: Grouplove – Never Trust a Happy Song

8 Sep

Colours

Lots of my music listening revolves around the Chicago concert scene—let’s just say that there’s definitely a correlation between the albums that I pick and ohmyrockness.com.  In fact, this album right here has a lot to do with Chicago concerts, both past and future.

I saw Grouplove from afar on the final day of Lollapalooza, and they blew me away.  I hadn’t heard a single song of theirs before, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying every minute of their very enthusiastic set.  I made a mental note to check out some of their tunage after the fest, but things got lost in the shuffle.  Even when I’m listening to a record every day, I still can’t manage to get around to the stuff that I really want to hear.

Anyway, it somehow came to my attention that these guys have a show at Subterranean—a venue that I really want to check out—next week.  It didn’t take long for me to get my hands on their music after I saw that listing.

It turns out that I’ve wasted a month of my life by not listening to this music.  Perhaps I’m being a tad hyperbolic, but I really am impressed.  This is indie pop at its catchiest, least pretentious, and, as far as I’m concerned, finest.  Think Edward Sharpe with a little more ADD thrown in, and you’ll kind of get the idea of the Grouplove sound.

Christian Zucconi’s whiny vocals are often in contrast to the rest of the band’s happy-go-lucky sound, but that’s what makes this record work.  It doesn’t sound like every other indie pop album in existence, but remains infectious as hell.  Also, if you don’t like Colours, there’s something wrong with you.

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Day 191: Dinosaur Feathers – Fantasy Memorial

7 Sep

Family Waves

Weird band name, unique, nonabrasive sound, relative obscurity, yeah, I’d say that Dinosaur Feathers is a group that I should get behind.  I’ve been having a lot of trouble with this post, as this band has a sound that’s really hard to describe.  Fantasy Memorial isn’t perfect by any means; there’s plenty that could have been eliminated or improved upon.  I like the record for the most part, though.

Think acoustic Animal Collective.  Now you may see why I’m having a hard time here.  This record is a mishmash of all kinds of stuff—vocal harmonies, head-scratching beats, ambiguous lyrics, and the completely unidentifiable sources that make up most of the midrange.  There’s a lot going on here, but it rarely feels busy or forced.  Instead, Fantasy often comes off as catchy.  Family Waves, the highlight of this record, is a fast paced, infectious track that ends before you can figure out exactly what’s going on.  This band is at its best when making music like that.

Unfortunately, Dinosaur Feathers doesn’t always make music like that.  When the band slows things down, it can be frustrating and almost painful to listen to.  Take Holy Moses, for instance.  It’s a drawn out, boring, and repetitive track that has no place on the record.  If a little fat trimming had been done before this was released, Fantasy Memorial could have been a lot better.  That’s often the problem with self-released work, though—sometimes, producers can be useful.

Dinosaur Feathers have a lot of potential.  If they tighten things up on their next release, it’s definitely a band to look out for.

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Day 190: Boston – Boston

6 Sep

Foreplay/Long Time

Dad, what have you done?  It’s DRT yet again, and Boston’s self-titled debut has me in a serious conundrum.

I want to hate this record, I really do.  This is 70s glam rock at its corniest.  With cheesy lyrics, over-the-top guitar riffs, and a ridiculous cover, there should be nothing redeeming about this album.  I’d like to think that if something like this came out today, I’d stop listening after track two.  I know that’s not the case, though; I love me some Foxy Shazam.  I’m quite the walking contradiction, but that’s for another day.  Right now, I’ve got to deal with Boston’s Boston.  

When it comes down to it, disliking a record is hard to do when you already know half of its songs.  I have a guitar hero story very similar to the one about Guns and Roses’ Sweet Child o’ Mine about Foreplay/Longtime…actually the story is exactly the same, so I won’t bore you with it.  My point is that I can’t suddenly turn on a record that has so many components that I’ve embraced throughout my life.

More importantly, it’d be extremely hypocritical of me to hate on such a blatantly fun rock album.  I have said before that it’s okay to like music for no other reason than its catchiness, and Boston is beyond catchy.  If that riff from Smokin’ isn’t stuck in your head for days after you hear it, then you have no soul.

Yes, this is cheese rock.  Yes, I probably lose all sorts of hipster cred for embracing it.  Long story short, I don’t care.  It sounds good, and life is too short to listen to records that you have to pretend to understand.

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