[REQUEST] Linkin Park: A Thousand Suns

A Thousand Suns

Best song: The Catalyst

Worst song: The Messenger

Overall grade: 4

Linkin Park are one of those bands from the 2000s that seems to get pretty much universal hatred from ‘serious’ music fans (other most famous example: Nickelback.) This seems to stem from their being pigeonholed into one of two genres.

1)      Rap metal. To me, dislike of this is justified. I’ve yet to find a rap or hip-hop song I enjoy (although if you want to try…) and the addition of these elements to metal music seems to, more often than not, bring out the worst in both of them.

2)      Nu metal. This is the part I have something of a problem with. According to Wikipedia, nu metal is “a fusion genre which combines sounds, influences and characteristics of heavy metal and its subgenres”. Now, I fail to understand how this is (necessarily) a bad thing, but to many people, as soon as they hear the term ‘nu metal’ they immediately dismiss the band.

With this in mind, I see Linkin Park as a band who started off uninspired, due to their imitation of a handful of late 90s alternative metal bands that never really had anything going for them themselves – but developed, somewhere between 2003 and 2007, into an interesting band with their own styles and ideas who were still hit and miss, but certainly worth listening to for the hits.

Their 2010 album, A Thousand Suns, is fifteen tracks long, but it’s also possible to find a version (“The Full Experience”) that is a single, forty-eight-minute track long. That’s probably the best way to listen to the album, but for ease of reviewing I’ll refer to the actual track names. As a whole, the album is more mature than their previous work, in many (good) ways simpler, less heavy, which allows the music to breathe and speak for itself. Oh, and it’s a concept album about ‘human fears’, which is quite vague but also believable.

The opener, ‘Requiem’, is very interesting. The wordless vocals carry the funeral mood implied by the title, yet the music is very cold-hearted and futuristic, and it all brings to mind the idea of a robotic funeral without any real emotion, which is a chilling thought. This is further explored by the extremely processed, emotionless vocals that come in around the 1.15 mark.

If that sets the electronic-based tone of the music, then ‘The Radiance’, which includes a recording of a speech by J. Robert Oppenheimer, certainly sets the political tone of the lyrics.

‘Burning in the Skies’ is the kind of catchy song that you’ll be singing along to before you’ve even finished listening to it once, and it pairs a smooth, sliding vocal with a lurching, jolting drumbeat, but it does give the impression of a song that hasn’t had that much work invested in it, with nothing to really make it stand out. Then, ‘Empty Spaces’ is a track that jumps out at you to yell ‘Look at me, I’m a serious concept album!’ because it’s far too short to exist as anything more than a bridge between two songs.

‘When They Come For Me’ is never going to be a favourite of mine due to its strong hip-hop influence, however, objectively I can see that the way the rapping of the verses blends with the soaring choruses is very natural, and I love the part at the end where these choruses descend into a kind of riot.

‘Robot Boy’ uses a lot of the same tricks as ‘Burning in the Skies’ but feels a lot more genuine, with better lyrics and more emotional weight. The catharsis of the end part that builds steadily and suddenly becomes quiet gives the impression of an album coming to a close, but no, it segues straight on into the ultimately forgettable ‘Jornada Del Muerto’ which doesn’t do anything not repeated elsewhere, and my attention is briefly lost.

Up until this point, the album has been very cohesive to the point of sounding a bit samey. ‘Waiting for the End’ presents a welcome change, with some much rougher vocals, a brief flirtation with a cappella, a backing that’s in a constant state of change and is impossible to predict, and a chorus that reminds me of the Smashing Pumpkins.

Moving past the halfway mark, the first part of ‘Blackout’ brings uncontrolled anger and nothing else of note, and seems to be a bit of a failed experiment with a kind of electronic hardcore. But partway through it suddenly stops (the blackout referenced by the title?) and starts up again as an entirely different, yet related song, and a very pretty one at that. It’s a cool trick but I’d much prefer it if the first part of the song was at all listenable.

On one level, ‘Wretches and Kings’ is a pretty awesome political rallying cry, and the crazy snarls of the chorus are shocking and effective. I feel like this song could have been really great if it weren’t for the obnoxious rap sections that obscure the idiosyncratic electronic squeals in large parts of it.

‘Wisdom, Justice and Love’ is another song that replaces vocals with an extract from a famous speech, and I love the contrast between the two speakers – first, a man who worked in the development of nuclear weapons, and then Martin Luther King, who always promoted nonviolence. It marks a sort of shift in themes to more positive, hopeful subject matter.

‘Iridescent’ is the most human moment on the album, an evocative piano ballad  which speaks directly to the listener by using ‘you’ throughout, and tries to turn itself into an anthem as It builds, but falls short on account of being a little repetitive. ‘Fallout’ brings a return to electronics and darkness, and has the suffocating, claustrophobic feel of being recorded far underground, but this effect is spoilt somewhat by its being one of the weaker songs for lyrics.

The true anthem on this album for me is second-to-last track ‘The Catalyst’, a confident, self-assured cry that echoes the lyrics of ‘The Requiem’ with a hundred times as much conviction and emotion. It’s serious and important but not too serious, shown by the almost dance-like that characterises part of it. It’s the kind of set-closing song that brings a crowd of people together.

After this huge finale, ‘The Messenger’ was bound to be a quiet affair, and it’s a bit disappointing, with the kind of cliché lyrics like ‘Listen to your heart’ and ‘Love keeps us kind’ that just seem insincere, vocals that don’t suit the music, and an over-simplified acoustic guitar part. I’m partial to a perfectly crafted release of a song ending, and there are certainly a few of them on this album, which makes it all the more disappointing that the actual final song doesn’t bring anything new.

Overall, I like this album, because some of the songs are very well-crafted and because it’s really great to see a band like this stretch themselves and attempt to make the sort of ‘abstract concept album’ that great bands like Pink Floyd did. Linkin Park have succeeded in places. They didn’t make a masterpiece, but they definitely grew musically and it was a worthwhile effort.

The Clash: Give 'Em Enough Rope

Give ‘Em Enough Rope

Best song: Julie’s Been Working For The Drug Squad

Worst song: Stay Free

Overall grade: 4

[author’s note: it’s experiment time! My original reviews were 500-600 words but for a while now they’ve been ~1000, and so I thought I’d have a go at writing something more concise again and see how it works. May or may not become a regular thing, and if anyone has a preference for one writing style over the other, I’ll definitely take that on board.]

After such an acclaimed first effort, the Clash were always going to have some trouble here. With their second album, they strike an awkward-teenager sort of balance between the uncontrollable punk energy of the debut and the genre-boundary-ignoring lasting statement that is London Calling. It works, sometimes, and at other times it can get a little dull. The longer song form that’s found on a lot of songs here can sometimes allow for more development of musical ideas and a chance to showcase other instruments, but at other times is unnecessary and repetitive.

As on their first album, I’d say their most successful songs are the more politically-inclined ones, where Strummer really cares about what he’s singing about, and that’s why my favourites are ‘Julie’s Been Working For The Drug Squad’, the lyrically excellent ‘Safe European Home’, and ‘Tommy Gun’ with its outstanding introduction. Another thing I like about ‘Julie’s’ is the piano part, courtesy of guest musician Allen Lanier, that weaves its way through.

In contrast, I’m not a big fan of ‘Stay Free’, a slower and much more pop-oriented song that feels like it could have been written by pretty much any band. ‘Drug Stabbing Time’ is another song which I’m mostly not a big fan of, except for the awesome saxophone solo which punctuates it.

A song I find particularly interesting is ‘English Civil War’, which is a punk rearrangement of a traditional Irish tune. Joe Strummer had learnt the anti-war song as a schoolboy and came up with the idea of modernising it, which works really well and adds some variety to the album.

It’s definitely possible to notice an improvement in technical skill between the last album and this one, and that has a lot to do with new drummer Topper Headon, who was jazz trained and brings a solid and interesting backing to pretty much every song. In addition, Paul Simonon takes on a more prominent role than he had on the debut, playing some good bass lines on songs like the otherwise-unspectacular ‘Last Gang In Town’.

The other song in the mediocre middle section is ‘Guns on the Roof’, a disappointing use of the riff from the Who’s ‘I Can’t Explain’ that serves to remind you that the original was so much better. But The Clash manage a great comeback at the end of the album. The rocky ‘Cheapskates’ is excellently, passionately sung by Strummer, and anthemic ‘All The Young Punks’ makes a great closer to the album, slower than usual but still interesting, and something of a rallying call to a generation.

Overall, this second album features a fair mix of great writing and uninspired writing, and while the balance shifts enough in the direction of good songs to make it well worth owning, there’s nothing here which I’d describe as criminal to miss out on. It’s never offensively bad but it can walk the fine line between a band having fun and a band existing on automatic.

[REQUEST] Carter: 1992 The Love Album

1992 The Love Album

Best song: England

Worst song: 1993

Overall grade: 4

Well, this is something I never thought I’d review. For a long time, everything I’d heard about Carter, including the fact that they called themselves ‘The Unstoppable Sex Machine’ led me to believe that they were immature, full of themselves and not particularly serious. I still partly think that, but at the same time I think they do have a fair amount of talent, often writing inspired lyrics that use humour to give important messages, and occasionally writing decent melodies.

For anyone who’s not aware, Carter USM were a pair of indie musicians known only as Jim Bob and Fruitbat who put out a handful of albums throughout the 90s, and still occasionally tour today. This album was their most successful, containing a Top 10 single and making it to number 1 in the UK charts, but today they’re largely unheard of, and there’s a fair chance I wouldn’t have heard of them if I didn’t know people who were massive fans.

This album opens with an instrumental; an interesting and surprising decision considering Carter’s strengths really do lie in their lyrics. ‘1993’ is unnecessarily bombastic and seems very contrived and artificial, and as an opener it fails to excite me about the album to come. However, in the eight songs that follow, Jim Bob and Fruitbat tackle an interesting range of subject matter that’s either not often covered in songs, or just looked at in a different way

I’m not entirely sure who started the idea of putting the big hit single as track three on an album, or when. I can’t think of many pre-90s examples. Anyway, it applies here with ‘The Only Living Boy in New Cross’, a play on the similarly-titled Paul Simon song. It builds and expands as all good anthems should, moving from the tale of one particular one night stand to reciting an extensive list of people who have died from AIDS.  It’s memorable, effective and hard-hitting right down to the angry finality of ‘Hello, good evening, welcome – and goodbye.’

It’s easily the album’s second best song, beaten out only by the lyrical excellence that is ‘England’. A traditional English folk melody is juxtaposed with a tale that paints a far more bleak view of our country, containing constant references to things which, depressingly enough, seem to represent the English, and an uncountable number of excellent puns, from ‘I was born under a wandering star in the second council house of Virgo’ to ‘My phone number is triple-X directory’. Without paying attention to the lyrics it sounds unobtrusive and a minor side note to the album, especially given its length, but to pass over it would be a huge mistake.

Between these two greats is ‘Suppose You Gave A Funeral and Nobody Came’, a comment on the superficiality of popularity (I can’t say that fast either) that’s set to dance music; which could be a ridiculous combination but actually works, the contrast of subject matter and musical style exactly mirroring the contrast of the popular girl with no real friends. The melody at the end is probably the catchiest moment of the album, too. It doesn’t let itself be overshadowed by the two songs around it, but holds its own nicely, although as the first of two funeral songs, it makes me wonder if this album should be renamed ‘1992 The Death Album’.

The second one, ‘Look Mum, No Hands!’ is the downbeat tale of a funeral of a young boy, but it’s a bit heavyhanded and tries too hard to make its point, and consequently isn’t as successful as those that seem to convey their message effortlessly. It’s not a complete failure – there are a couple of very darkly humourous lines – but it’s not a classic. Similarly, the second half of ‘Is Wrestling Fixed’ tries too hard to be funny, with an endless list of not particularly imaginative questions to which the answer is blatantly ‘yes’, and then the final line, ‘Is wrestling fixed?’ It doesn’t take a genius to work out the intended meaning of that. The first half is excellent, though, far cleverer and makes the song well worth the listen.

Side two doesn’t have any classics, although it does begin with a Spinal Tap quote. ‘Do Re Me So Far So Good’ is the obligatory anti-music-industry song that’s been done a thousand times. It’s enjoyable and well-written enough but placed after three outstanding tracks, will always seem like the slightly less original younger cousin.

An issue I have with a lot of these songs, especially ‘While You Were Out’, lies in the vocals; which are incredibly intense and over-the-top the majority of the time, something which can get incredibly grating. It’s not a bad song but it definitely turns into overload partway through. Jim Bob clearly has the ability to put a lot of emotion and power into his voice, but it would be much more effective if this were saved for the occasional particularly important line, with the others treated more subtly.

‘Skywest And Crooked’ is where the lyrics start to get a bit more abstract, and I like it for the fact that it’s positive but not overwhelmingly so, still remaining grounded, especially with the dark and thought provoking Ian Dury quote at the end. But I can’t say the same for the cover ‘The Impossible Dream’, which is difficult to believe coming from the same guy who’s just sung all these sardonic lyrics, and therefore I don’t really see it as part of the album. It would have been more effective to end with the spoken words of ‘I do not think they were asking why they were dying, but why they had ever lived.’

So, overall, I know that Carter have a very dedicated following and to a certain point, I can see the appeal: behind some uninteresting rhythms and unnecessary swearing they’re intelligent and cynical with a lot of important things to say and no fear of saying them. So they are worthwhile listening, but with too many weaknesses to ever become either essential or frequent listening. For days when you feel particularly disillusioned with society only.

David Bowie: The Man Who Sold The World

The Man Who Sold The World

Best song: The Width of a Circle

Worst song: She Shook Me Cold

Overall grade: 4

Following the success of the single ‘Space Oddity’, David Bowie started trying to put together a more stable group of musicians to work with. This group would then go on to become one of the most famous backing bands of any musician, ever (save for Bob Dylan). Yes, this album does indeed feature a very rough blueprint for what was to become the Spiders from Mars. Micks Ronson and Woodmansey make their first appearance on this album, and Trevor Bolder was the only missing link… but that’s later. For now, we’re just talking about this album, which, although clearly a vital step in Bowie’s evolution, is overlooked and even criticised by fans as often as it is praised.

So, where do I stand on this album that divides the opinions of those who actually remember it exists? Well, I like it. Truth be told I liked it quite a bit more before I found out that Bowie himself wasn’t massively involved in the songwriting process. Maybe that factor shouldn’t be such an influence on my opinion, but it is. David Bowie is one of the most creative and imaginative men in music, and for him – or any musician, for that matter – to put his name on a project, I’d hope that he’d want to have written a set of songs he was really happy with, and that he thought were the best he could write, rather than make a start and then hand the job over to somebody else. Maybe I’m just idealistic.

I’m not going to surprise anyone with my pick for best song here. Opener ‘The Width of a Circle’ is as good as it gets – so good, that one particularly devoted fan in Russia pressed so many copies of it onto 7” that lots of people think it was released as an actual, official single. Don’t be fooled by the 1970 release date. This song has the open, anything-goes kind of quality that makes one think of the 60s, and the second part has a space rock quality that almost reminds me of Hawkwind. Hearing Bowie, generally regarded as a camped-up glam rock singer, try his voice at the heavy metal influenced song might seem like a bit of a stretch, but his voice fits in surprisingly well. There’s some spacey atmospherics in the wobbly guitar solo passage between the first two verses, and the lyrics… ‘And the rumour spread that I was aging fast/Then I ran across a monster who was sleeping by a tree/And I looked and frowned and the monster was me’. Or, I could just quote the entire song. Yes, sleeping with the devil in Hell might sound like dubious subject matter and it’s certainly not the kind of thing I’d expect to enjoy a song about, but there are so many excellent lyrical turns of phrase here that I’m forced to have a lot of respect for the way it’s written.

OK, let’s talk about some of the other songs. This album doesn’t have a concept like ‘Ziggy Stardust’ and doesn’t even flow like ‘Hunky Dory’ but most of the songs are worth checking out, and they do continue to prove Bowie’s often underrated lyrical talents. Seriously, sometimes I think this album could hold up well if you just read the lyrics booklet, and the only other people who can do that are Bob Dylan and Jarvis Cocker. ‘All the Madmen’ carries things on in an equally progressive style with creepy vocals and a guitar opening full of anticipation. Its more stripped back arrangement means it acts as a counterpoint to the first song, but it also builds as it goes on, giving it status on its own. I’m a big fan of the spoken word section in the middle that comes out of nowhere, where the band forget to play for a bit, surprising the listener and making the song memorable and unique. It’s the Syd Barrett song that Barrett never wrote.

‘Black Country Rock’ is not one of my favourites; its blues-rock influence is a bit too overpowering for my tastes, and the hook I hear while I listen to it is lying about being a hook, because it isn’t any kind of memorable. The quietly intense ‘After All’ is more my kind of thing, setting Bowie’s whispered, world-weary vocals against the more innocent and choral sound in the background.

I’ll be dull and predictable again in saying that my least favourite track is ‘She Shook Me Cold’, because it just ad no structure… seriously, most jam sessions are better organised than this song, which is nowhere near album-worthy. It feels like it’s trying to be great art but coming off as a bit of a mess. ‘Saviour Machine’ is nothing particularly special either, and ‘Running Gun Blues’ is notable for being the heaviest song, a bit psychotic in places, interesting enough but more controversial than it is good.

 The title track is probably most famous for being covered by Nirvana in the early 90s, but I can think of much better versions. Namely, this one. More than anything else on the record, this is a pop song, and Ronson provides us with a wonderful guitar hook just to prove that point. Closer ‘The Supermen’ is probably the most obvious nod to Bowie’s sci-fi leanings, sounding alternately cold, futuristic and otherworldly, and it’s another bullseye in my book. Its fantastical qualities elevate an otherwise averagely good song to epic status. Another powerful vocal over the grandiose instrumentation bring the album to a crashing, explosive finish that’s well worth the disappointing moments.

So yeah. They say the only constant in life is change, and that’s definitely true of Bowie’s life. It doesn’t matter how much you like or dislike any one album of his, you always know that the next one’s going to be completely different.

Ouch, I haven’t reviewed anything ridiculously positive for quite a while. Tomorrow or Thursday I’ll give something a 7.

I also haven’t been particularly controversial about anything in a while… that’s coming. Oh, it’s coming.

The Who: Who Are You

Who Are You

Best song: Who Are You

Worst song: Love Is Coming Down

Overall grade: 4

[author’s note: wow, major delays on this one. I didn’t really think about the fact that I was travelling over the past couple of weeks and so wouldn’t really be able to write anything. I’m now doing NaNoWriMo, a ridiculous competition to write a 50,000 word novel in a month that I do every year, so that’s keeping me busy too. I’ll update sporadically (read: 2-3 times/week) this month and then daily in December.]

Music is not the only thing in my life that I’m slightly obsessive over. You wouldn’t think I had the time to be fanatical about anything else, but the truth is, I can name every single episode of the original CSI: Las Vegas, in order, unprompted. It’s a useless talent but a good party trick. Based on the statistic that I’ve seen each episode an average of 2.5 times, that means I’ve seen around 750 viewings of the opening credits, which equals 750 renditions of the theme tune, The Who’s ‘Who Are You’.

Yet when I listen to this album as a whole, I’m always pleasantly surprised by what a great song it actually is. Sure, that 15-second edit is enjoyable, but the full 6-minute version has to stand alongside ‘it’. and ‘Starless’ as one of the best sendoffs to an era of a band, ever. It’s final proof that Pete Townshend keeps getting better and better at lyrics, as he tells the tale of a night out drinking gone wrong: ‘I spit out like a sewer hole/Yet still recieve your kiss/How can I measure up to anyone now/After such a love as this?’. He’s come a long way since ‘your lies, lies, la-la-la-la-la-la-lies’. This song also marks Keith Moon’s only truly inspired drum work on the album, as well as being a delicate masterpiece with a synthesizer stitched seamlessly in and out of the other instruments. Minimalist in places, thick and heavy in others, it captures Townshend’s mindset and proved to everyone that the Who weren’t dinosaurs quite yet.

The album also has some interesting tracks which have not yet become soundtracks for major crime dramas, and these include fan favourite ‘Guitar and Pen’, a very meta song about the whole songwriting process. I like most of it, I especially like Roger on this one, but I can’t deal with the closing section that’s an embarrassing failed attempt at prog. Another is the opener, ‘New Song’, which is, as the title suggests, a new song. It’s powerful and very listenable but lacks the substance of the best material from this album and its predecessor.

So, neatly dividing Pete’s songs into two fantastic, two good and two awful, there’s also ‘Music Must Change’. Jazz influences, blues influences, and a more successful prog influence than that mentioned earlier combine to make a song that displays its message incredibly well even if you ignore the lyrics, and although there are no drums, that may actually be a good thing here – how else could you appreciate all the little twists and turns of the song? It’s all very insightful with highly emotional playing from everyone, and a highly satisfying closer for the first side.

Pete Townshend has referred to ‘Sister Disco’ as being one of his least favourite songs to perform, and I’m pretty much in agreement with him on that. It’s a vapid and obvious criticism of the disco music that was just becoming popular in 1978, and while its message may have resonated with listeners back then, it has little relevance now and there are no strokes of genius in the music to help it age. I also struggle to tolerate ‘Love Is Coming Down’ which seems insincerely soppy, and doesn’t engage me at all, unlike some of the Who’s previous ballads, and could probably be improved by a good pounding on the old drum kit to make it rock a bit, if Moon was still up to it.

With the exception of ‘Quadrophenia’, John Entwhistle has contributed a song to every Who album, but here he gets a massive three. That’s a third of the total number of tracks. Was Pete Townshend beginning to cool off from wanting to be in total control, or did he just lack inspiration? I’m generally a big fan of Entwhistle’s work but ‘Trick of the Light’ is certainly not one of his best efforts; it’s a formulaic song with little energy that’s barely worthy of being a remaster bonus track. On both that song and ‘905’, Entwhistle attempts to return to his ‘Boris the Spider’ past and write about more quirky subject matter – ‘Trick’, with its description of an impotent man’s encounter with a prostitute, leaves a bad taste in the mouth, but the science, futuristic vibe of ‘905’ definitely brings a smile and a flicker of the past. The synthesizer dances along and suddenly making music seems like fun rather than work as Pete messes around with electronics and John twiddles with an organ. It’s filler-ish, but it’s very good fun filler.

His final track, and the first one I’d pick for inclusion on a ‘Best of John Entwhistle’ compilation, is ‘Had Enough’. I love its apathetic, dark lyrics and the way they carry through to the music. Interestingly for a Who song, it features a few guests, including Ted Astley arranging the song, Rod Argent on keyboards and a full string orchestra, making it feel fresh compared to the rest of the album but still with enough trademarks to be recognisably Who.

Listening to this album makes it clear that Pete, Roger and John all still have the talent, but that the group as a complete unit is showing cracks. Keith Moon’s problems with drugs and alcohol were taking their toll on everyone, and none of the members are as involved as they once were, and some of the songs really do suffer for it. That said, at this point the Who had a point to prove: that they weren’t going to give up just because there were new music fashions around now. I think that there are enough good songs on the record to back up that assertion, and although it’s a shame that Keith’s farewell record didn’t feature a better performance from him, I can comfort myself with the knowledge that he never had to listen to ‘It’s Hard’.

Biffy Clyro: Blackened Sky

Blackened Sky

Best song: Kill The Old, Torture Their Young, although there’s a few contenders

Worst song: eh. Convex, Concave?

Overall grade: 4

So, I’m starting another new band because I keep coming to the end of discographies (it’s really quite terrifying. Reviews of first albums are difficult) and I thought that I’d try another band that’s never really been covered by anyone in the WRC before. So I thought for a while and realised that as far as contradictory bands go, Biffy Clyro have to be right up there. I mean, I have friends who like them who typically only listen to the most formulaic of songs, yet just a few years ago – with the same exact members - they were underground and experimental; and they themselves have claimed a prog influence. And somewhere along the way there was a magic point where it all turned out right. I know they’re hardly the first or only band to have done this, but something about the way it’s happened in my lifetime, right in front of my eyes provoking different reactions from different friends, makes me interested to review them.

The band’s first album was released in 2002, and it isn’t that magic moment. You probably guessed that from the rating, though, so I don’t feel bad about saying that so close to the start.

I love ‘Joy.Discovery.Invention’ as an opener, enigmatic and claustrophobic, with the vocals and ominous drum beat that stay quiet and controlled except for the occasional bursts of emotion with ‘get up, get up!’ until the two minute mark where everything explodes in a burst of distortion. It’s a great moment, but once everything’s become all fuzzy it’s not quite so interesting, since it makes it harder to hear what’s going on.

Second song ‘27’ follows the same pattern with its quiet section followed by a loud section, but in this one I prefer the loud! The quieter part is a little dull and passes me by, but the  louder part is full of energised and uplifting guitars. Fan favourite ‘Justboy’ is the first song that’s good all the way through. It’s constantly restless, unable to decide what tempo or volume it wants to be, but wherever it goes it carries a huge hook and powerful vocals, and has a great, larger-than-life guitar solo in the middle. It’d almost be worth seeing them live just for this.

‘Kill The Old, Torture Their Young’ is the only track (on this album) where I consider their claim to a prog influence to really be justified. That’s not just because of its 6+ minute length; it’s also down to the cryptic lyrics, the labour that’s clearly gone into making it perfectly flow into one song, the many and varied instrumental sections, the gorgeous little piano solo, the little bit around the 5 minute mark that sounds like ‘Run Like Hell’. It reminds me of the Mars Volta in places. I mean, it’s not a full-blown prog song, but it’s a full-on good song, and that’s more important.

The introduction to ‘The Go-Slow’ is all kinds of interesting and the beginning lyrical part is quite beautiful, but what is with this band’s obsession with the quiet/loud divide? It was cool the first few times, but now I’m wondering if they’ve ever heard of the gradual build, or even of the numbers five and six on the amplifier. And the singer loses a certain amount of charisma when he starts screaming everything. Similar complaint about ‘Christopher’s River’, since it starts out as a darkly pretty and evocative ballad but disintegrates a little later, although it does manage to hold onto its melody, unlike its predecessor.

The lyrics on ‘Hero Management’ are insightful and delivered with just the right amount of uncertainty. It’s the song where they really let themselves loose on their own instruments and play a long, dynamic instrumental passage in the middle. ‘Stress on the Sky’ does this too, and it’s a very aptly titled one, since it does have the feel that they’re trapped and straining to escape from something. It passes through the conventions of a normal song along the way, but it’s still the most ‘out there’ song on the album. Not for the faint hearted, it layers throbbing instruments and pained wails to create an inescapable sound that comes at you from all sides.

There are moments of brilliance on the second half of the album, such as the call and response of the guitars and drums in the opening of ‘Convex, Concave’, which is a really cool effect, but they’re scattered between a fair amount of quite forgettable material. But you know what? They do finally make their ballad, in a sense. ‘Scary Mary’ never loses its grip on itself or descends into anarchy, and its aching nostalgia and low, reflective guitar makes it a great ending to the album, so you’ll finish it feeling content, even if it’s been fairly flawed throughout.

Their incessant use of fuzz pedals definitely gets on my nerves, and often they’re a bit too involved in their worship of 90s alt-rock bands to concentrate on their considerable talents in both pop music and experimentalism. But it’s not a disaster, and it provides a great blueprint for later works.

Fun Biffy game: go onto the YouTube video for any of their songs, and count the number of people who write the catchphrase ‘Mon the Biff’ in the comments. It entertains me particularly with these songs, because all these people who claim to be “different” for listening to their older stuff are, in fact, all exactly the same by posting the exact same thing. 

Radiohead: The King of Limbs

The King of Limbs

Best song: Bloom

Worst song: possibly Little By Little

Overall grade: 4

Radiohead are on hiatus. That is a sad statement but an undeniably true one, and as of October 2013, I have no idea whether it’s temporary or permanent. The hiatus commenced immediately following this album – I guess Thom felt like he’d said all he could say with the band, for now. But the question is, did he start to feel that after being done with this album, planning to leave it as his final statement, or did it happen during this album, feeling that it wasn’t going as well as their previous stuff had?

This album’s mostly built on mood. Radiohead have always been pretty minimalist but here there’s less substance than ever before, which sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t. An example of it working well is the opener ‘Bloom’, which has a disorientating electronic rhythm driving it and vocals that wouldn’t sound out of place in a haunted house. ‘Morning Mr Magpie’ isn’t quite as successful, though. I’m not saying there isn’t clever stuff going on in the song – there is – but the band seem to think that ‘Hey, look at this weird sound we can make!’ is a fair substitute for melody, and it’s just not enough. The album isn’t even saved by good track positioning of a progression of moods – everything seems randomly arranged, like the ‘this is an album’ part of things was put second to ‘these are some noises’.

On balance, the biggest problem with this album is that Radiohead have moved solely into ‘interesting’ and too far away from ‘memorable’ or ‘emotional’, two qualities that they’ve never lacked before. I know that every song starts with a different electronic beat that I appreciate at the time, but ask me to recall any of them after the album’s finished and I just can’t.

So I can only be reliable by writing this literally while listening to it, which I am. And I can say that ‘Lotus Flower’ is actually a good song, with a very creepy atmosphere and a kind of separation between its different layers, with breezy vocals used more for effect than to carry the song. I’m also going to highlight ‘Codex’, which doesn’t fit in with the rest of the album at all, and, in fact, you can pretty much ignore everything else I’ve said when thinking about this song, a powerful piano-led ode that belongs in that moment of a movie when the main character has lost all hope, and pretty much has no electronics in sight. The next song, ‘Give Up The Ghost’, is a counterpart on the acoustic guitar but less successful, similarly pretty but lacking in any real meaning like some of the earlier songs.

None of these songs are actually bad, and to say this is a bad album from Radiohead would be a lie. But to say it’s a good album would also be a lie. It’s a pretty low 4 because, although there are songs worthy of this band name, with quite a few of the songs, I really have nothing to say. They’re empty shells of Radiohead songs. I listen to them, and I don’t feel a thing.

I really hope Radiohead get back together at some point. Not because I want to see them live – although I do, more than almost anyone – but because I think they’re capable of a much better swansong than this, and more importantly, they deserve one.

King Crimson: Starless & Bible Black

Starless and Bible Black

Best song: The Mincer? maybe?

Worst song: one of the first three or the title track. I’ll say The Great Deceiver

Overall grade: 4

After finally, finally living up to their original potential with the release of ‘Lark’s Tongues’, the mighty Crim were right back in the studio recording the followup. Unfortunately, they only had about 20 minutes worth of material. Not the kind of people to let that minor problem deter them from their goal of releasing wildly inconsistent records every year, they set to work playing random improvisations until they hit on a few that they thought would polarise opinions enough to be put on an album.

I don’t like the first couple of minutes of ‘Great Deceiver’ – the melody seems forced and awkward, but it picks up in energy as it moves on. In the same way, ‘Lament’ takes quite a long time to get going, and the slow beginning part doesn’t capture my attention at all (this incarnation of King Crimson is good at LOUD AND INTENSE. On this album they’re often neither of those things, which works occasionally, eg. Trio, and fails often, eg. here.)

‘We’ll Let You Know’ is a pretty short instrumental and probably interests me the least out of all of them. It’s played very staccato all the way through and there’s a lot of beats that are just silence, an effect that’s used to extremes and causes none of the piece to really flow, so it’s not a particularly satisfying listen. In fact, it’s not until ‘The Night Watch’ that a track I really like appears; the quietly deranged vocal of that song an album highlight and its guitar solo noteworthy despite being fairly conventional.

Another really awesome track is ‘Trio’. It’s an improvised instrumental which might be about trying to find your way while lost in the jungle, or that might just be my interpretation, who knows. Funny anecdote about this song: Bill Bruford has a writing credit on it, which doesn’t seem strange at all until you realise there is no percussion. Apparently, his spontaneous decision not to add any was a really integral part of the song – and I completely agree. It must take a lot of restraint to not start playing when everyone else is jamming away, but I think he made the right decision, because I can’t imagine drums improving the track in any way. The mellotron and violin based piece doesn’t sound like most of this Crimson incarnation, but it’s nevertheless quite stunning.

‘The Mincer’ is menacing and brilliant. Its dissonance and general atmosphere mean I never feel quite safe while listening to it; it’s anything but background music – it’s the kind of thing that if it was played in a film, you’d be paranoid and on edge and you wouldn’t quite know why. It moves through a few different genres including a jazzy section and a more rocking one and includes a searing and unique John Wetton bassline. It ends not with a true ending, but at the point where the tape ran out during recording, and though that finish always throws me, I’m very glad they didn’t throw it out and start again.

Of the two long-form improvisations on the second side, I, like most people, prefer ‘Fracture’. I hear I’m in good company – Robert Fripp likes that one too. And why shouldn’t he? His guitar playing is literally on fire. I mean, it’s a really technical song, and I don’t think it’s meant to bring a tear to your eye unless you’re trying to play it and failing miserably, but damn can Fripp play, and I don’t mind him basically ripping off the structure of ‘Lark’s Tongues, pt.2’ if he keeps using those crazy time signatures and insanely fast chord switches. There’s absolutely no way he made this up on the spot. At over eleven minutes it doesn’t leave me breathless throughout, but there are enough sections that do to make it worthwhile.

The title track is more what you’d expect from an improvisation, with everybody playing well but nobody coming up with any ideas that really make you go ‘wow!’ In the words of Steven Wilson when he put out an album composed entirely of studio jams; “file under self-indulgent”.

I don’t think there’s a single song on this album that I could ever love unconditionally, but I have a LOT of respect for all these guys as instrumentalists and songwriters, and sometimes they earn that respect. Still, I mostly see this as a stopgap to prevent the band from releasing two classic albums in a row, which obviously just wouldn’t do. 

Jarvis Cocker: Jarvis

The Jarvis Cocker Record

Best song: I Will Kill Again

Worst song: Heavy Weather

Overall grade: 4

More than five years separate the final Pulp album and this, Jarvis’ first solo effort, although to be fair he was working on other things in that time too – most notably, a guest role in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, where he actually contributes three really good magically-themed songs and performs at the Yule Ball, basically just making an already-great movie even better. I’d guess that the songs here were written and recorded sporadically between his other commitments, as the album as a whole does seem a bit disjointed. Some of these sessions produced songs which are minor classics, while others are less than inspired.

There are two excerpts from an unreleased song, at the very beginning and near the end of the album, known as ‘Loss Adjuster’. They’re pretty piano pieces. In my notes, I have ‘I like Loss Adjuster’ written as I listened to the first one, and when I got to the second, ‘I still like Loss Adjuster’. There’s little else to say about it.

First real song is ‘Don’t Let Him Waste Your Time’ and lyrically it’s similar to Pulp, especially from the ‘His ‘N’ Hers’ era, but the production is not as perfectly polished and it’s less poppy. It works well as an opener with its mix of familiar and unfamiliar. Following on is ‘Black Magic’ which is very, very different, quite a lot heavier with a jumpy backing that reminds me a little of Talking Heads, only nowhere near as good, because this song doesn’t stay with me and honestly, I have no idea what it’s about.

I really don’t understand why ‘Heavy Weather’ was included. It has rain sound effects all the way through, which basically sums up everything that’s wrong with it, and it’s just so dull, with no real substance. Make a serious improvement to this album by removing this song and replacing with ‘Can You Dance Like A Hippogriff’ from Harry Potter.

Luckily, after its mostly inauspicious start, we get a real winner: ‘I Will Kill Again’ is amazingly chilling; a very creepy song from the point of view of a stalker observing his victim, and it’s a really interesting and perceptive look at someone with such a messed up mind. At the start the melody is slow and sinister, as you might expect, but later on, it takes more the form of a traditional love ballad, which is actually even MORE disturbing.

‘Baby’s Coming Back To Me’ is justified in its existence, I guess, by its delicate melody and good description of the feeling you get after receiving good news, where everything else seems good too. However, it never picks up any momentum and feels a bit lifeless throughout. That’s actually a problem that persists throughout the record. The best Pulp songs work so well because they masterfully build to a crescendo, while here many tunes remain static. ‘Disney Time’ makes a weak attempt at such a build right at the end, but it is, sadly, too little too late – a real shame, because the ideas behind the song and the first verse are impressive.

‘Fat Children’ is pretty hilarious the first time you listen to it, with its satirical lyrics and over the top cries of ‘Fat children took my liiiiife!’ Musically it doesn’t hold up so well, it’s a little repetitive and I like it less with each time I hear it. ‘Tonite’ also feels pretty stale, but did so from the first time I heard it, because it’s basically just recycling ideas from previous albums. Listenable, but adds nothing.

The other song I’m 100% in support of is ‘From Auschwitz to Ipswich’. It’s hopeless and depressing with good, insightful social commentary and a wonderful melody, so, in short, everything Jarvis is good at, and both the musical theme and the lyrics are very memorable, almost haunting.

For the most part, the lyrics on this album are very good, but they don’t do that nosy-neighbour, storytelling thing that I love about Pulp songs. The only song that does continue that tradition is ‘Big Julie’, and while it doesn’t reach the heights of ‘Wickerman’ or ‘Common People’, it’s a worthy continuation of the tradition, with an interesting character and some of the best lyrics on the album: see ‘Yeah, go and chase your dreams/But if your dreams are not your own/Then wouldn't it be better/just to work things out at home?’

‘Quantum Theory’ ends the album proper on a good note. It’s beautifully sung with a lot of emotion and quite cryptic in a way, not giving too much away about the story behind it, but definitely relating to a lost, maybe-dead lover, and the narrator’s way of coping; imagining them in a parallel universe where things worked out. It’s an idiosyncratic take on a love song and in that way it reminds me of ‘Something Changed’ from Different Class.

But there is a bonus track after 25-odd minutes of silence, ‘Running the World’. Although I can’t disagree with its message, it shouldn’t be there, and – dare I say it – someone with such a talent for lyricism shouldn’t need to use so many swear words.

This album is worth owning if you like Pulp or quirky singer-songwriters. Probably it’ll become the kind of thing that you rarely play all the way through, but have a few songs that you listen to a lot. Its towering highs make it more than worthy of a passing grade, but there’s enough I don’t like to guarantee it’ll never be a favourite. Jarvis is talented on his own but his style is dramatically different – and he’s allowed to change, but I’m still allowed to prefer things the old way.

Pink Floyd: Obscured By Clouds

Obscured By Clouds

Best song: Stay

Worst song: Absolutely Curtains

Overall grade: 4

Pink Floyd’s last attempt at a film soundtrack went swimmingly. Apart from the fact that they completely fell out with the film’s director and so released this album as something that, officially, had nothing to do with the film. Clearly assuming that anyone who then saw the actual film, ‘La Vallee’, would assume its use of exactly the same songs was a coincidence. Luckily, this never had to be an issue, because the people in charge actually changed the film’s title (or gave it an extra title) to fit in with the album. So as you can see, the band had plenty of experience of petty disagreements before they started their own war in the 80s.

That’s a bit of a history lesson, but it’s got nothing to do with the album really. What is interesting about this one is that it was written essentially in tandem with their artistic and commercial breakthrough ‘Dark Side of the Moon’. That particular piece was already in its early stages of development when the band were approached and asked to score something for Barbet Schroeder. Consequently, the whole thing reads like an outtakes and demos collection from ‘Dark Side’.

I imagine that for someone who worships ‘Dark Side’ and thinks every record should sound like it, this would be an absolute gem. For me, it’s a definite poor relation. Some of the ‘Clouds’ songs exactly correlate with those on ‘Dark Side’ a year later. The most blatant is ‘Childhood’s End’ in its ripoff of ‘Time’: the theme and structure of the lyrics are identical, the main melody is kind of similar, and at the beginning there’s what is basically ticking – a clear equivalent of the chiming clocks on the other song. ‘Burning Bridges’ is also the exact equal of ‘Breathe’ in its soft edged vocals and mellow atmosphere, and out of context I think I’d find it challenging to tell their openings apart. Lastly, ‘The Gold It’s In The…’ can only be ‘Money’, the token rocker. They still don’t seem all that comfortable with the style, but they’re getting better at hiding that fact, which must count for something.

Aside from those three, the other songs don’t have obvious counterparts, but all bar one would have seemed right at home on ‘Dark Side’. You could probably create a playlist that structures them into a double album if you’re a person who doesn’t think messing with the running order of ‘Dark Side’ is sacrilege (so not me then.) The one song that would feel out of place is ‘Free Four’, which is almost a throwback to the more lighthearted side of Syd Barrett musically, with a bouncy rhythm and a carefree demeanour, even during lines like ‘You are the angel of death’.

The two other vocal tracks are ‘Wot’s… Uh, The Deal?’, a Gilmour dominated affair that happens to be one of his favourites. I can’t argue with that. It has lots of guitars and his trademark soothing vocals and a very pleasant instrumental break in the middle, but is removed from easy-listening territory by the dark quality of Waters’ lyrics. ‘Stay’ is my absolute favourite. It gets the strongest emotional reaction from me out of anything on this album; I can just feel the yearning in that opening section. The brightly-coloured lyrics are very evocative and though nobody mentions is when discussing best Gilmour guitar solos, I can’t get enough of his wah-wah solo on this song.

To round out the album we have a handful of instrumentals. ‘Obscured By Clouds’ is very Floyd; some weird distorted guitars over an atmospheric backing, can’t really go wrong. ‘When You’re In’ has more going on and is pretty cool too, but is it film music? I can’t really imagine it as the backing track to anything, but who knows? ‘Mudmen’ goes through a lot of changes for its length and doesn’t really flow. Some of the sections are good – there’s a part near the end that’s awesome to listen to with headphones on – and some of them are less good, like the screeching guitar that’s not all that enjoyable to listen to. Strikes me as more a medley of ideas than a developed track. And the final ‘Absolutely Curtains’ doesn’t do a lot for me, just wandering around for a while. Plus, there’s another large-group chant at the end, for at least a couple of minutes. Is this becoming a thing, the Floyd finishing off their songs with famous chants? I can’t get into that, it disrupts the flow of a song.

So, in conclusion: the beta-test version of ‘Dark Side’. Listen to it for interest’s sake, but it’s hardly essential.

The Who: Tommy

Tommy

Best song: The Acid Queen

Worst song: Sally Simpson

Overall grade: 4

Well, this is different. I always forget that this one comes right after Sell Out, because it doesn’t seem like a natural progression – or it does, but not an instant one. Catchy pop songs, and then BAM, rock opera! Some would say the first ever rock opera. That’s not true from the point of view of ‘a group of songs that work together to tell a story’ but it is the first to have that bombastic operatic feel we think of upon hearing the phrase.

But my biggest problem with the Who is that often they were really original, and often they wrote great songs, but it wasn’t very often that they did these two things at the same time. In other words, around the halfway mark Pete Townshend started getting really into the story he had mapped out in his head and sort of forgot that he needed tunes to go with it. That’s why all the best songs can be found on Disc One, except for ‘Pinball Wizard’ and ‘We’re Not Gonna Take It’.

So, what is this incredibly important story that so preoccupied Mr. Townshend? It’s about a boy called Tommy who becomes deaf, dumb and blind after watching his father murder his mum’s other woman, gets taken to a prostitute who tries and fails to “heal” him, becomes really awesome at pinball. Eventually he becomes obsessed with mirrors, which annoys his mum for some reason so she smashes one, which somehow makes him able to speak again. Now in possession of the ‘miracle cure’ for things, Tommy is suddenly in demand, and gets loads of followers. His uncle makes him start up a holiday camp where Tommy basically tries to show everyone the joys of pinball, only the campers revolt against him.

Or, to put it more succinctly: it’s ridiculous and doesn’t make any sense.

Maybe if Pete Townshend had become a novelist, he could have explained why a mirror is such a good cure for deafness, dumbness and blindness, or why pinball became such a huge fascination for Tommy. But he had to focus on music as well as story, and it turns out they both suffered.

If no-one’s made a ‘Best of Tommy’ compilation yet, there’s a gap in the market for one. Here’s what I’d put on it.

1.       Overture – A truly outstanding beginning whichever way you look at it; it’s a proggy, mostly instrumental track that includes a lot of themes that are later repeated on the album, as well as some parts that differentiate it, so its inclusion would keep this shorter version cohesive.

2.       1921 – Not as immediately rewarding as some of the other stuff I’ve chosen, but the  interplay between the vocals and guitars are cool, and I always have a soft spot for those songs that have two different singers singing different sections.

3.       Amazing Journey – in the story, this is the bit where Tommy starts to hear music in his mind, so as you can expect, there’s a lot of really interesting stuff going on here; a touch of psychedelia, a bit of some other things, it’s the exact opposite of dull.

4.       Cousin Kevin – Entwhistle wrote it, and his songs are generally awesome. The other one of his on the full version actually isn’t, but this one suits his dark style of writing and its lyrics (about bullying) are just as relevant to the real world as they are to the world of ‘Tommy’.

5.       The Acid Queen – how could I not keep this one? I can never get over how good this song is. It’s one of the points when I find the story least believable (who takes their son to a prostitute? Right, NOBODY.) but here, I could just focus on things like the epic hooks and Townshend’s stellar performance on guitar and ignore the ridiculousness of the narrative.

6.       Sparks – Look, I put the album out of order! Mostly to split up the instrumentals and not have the pop songs beside each other. But this is one of my favourites, and no, I’m not getting it confused with the band Sparks, who are also one of my favourites.

7.       Pinball Wizard – a song Townshend hates but most people like; it’s closer to the old style of the Who, more riff-based, and it’s a song about pinball – what more could you want?

8.       I’m Free – Another rare good moment from the second LP, this Entwhistle-driven track could definitely stand up as a song by itself.

9.       Underture – whoa, this one is way later than it should be! I just like the whole idea of contrast between ‘overture’ and ‘underture’ and I’d put this one last if I wasn’t including the actual closer. Keith Moon is brilliant on this one; he could have been a prog drummer if he wasn’t so much more concerned with playing at maximum volume and causing mass destruction.

10.   We’re Not Gonna Take It (including the whole See Me/Feel me part and everything) – The best possible finish to any version of this album.

Total length: somewhere in the region of 46 minutes; could conceivably be a single album and would be a far more satisfying listen without all the other fairly pointless tracks.

Ramones: Leave Home (or 'What If The Ramones Were The Beatles?')

Leave Home

Best song: Pinhead

Worst song: Commando

Overall grade: 4

I like this album slightly less than the first one. In a perfect world, there would be a meaningful reason for this along the lines of its being less revolutionary and not changing the face of rock music, but in actual fact that’s a sidenote, and the truth is that I like this album less because it doesn’t have ‘Blitzkrieg Bop’. That song should be on all the Ramones albums. Or maybe it should just BE one of the albums. I’d definitely listen to a 30 minute version of Bop, and I’d enjoy it too.

The most important thing for getting into this album, and the next one, is acceptance of the fact that the Ramones’ best song was the first song on the first record and technically it could only go downhill from there. Lower your expectations just slightly to discover the also-great material on album number two. The more I listen to this the more I like it, and in that way a 4 seems harsh, but a 5 seems like too much, and I still consider 4 a good grade, so there.

One of my favourite tracks here is ‘You’re Gonna Kill That Girl’, often said to be a parody of the Beatles’ ‘You’re Gonna Lose That Girl’. This only adds to the fact that I see a lot of similarities between the early careers of both bands. The Ramones were angrier, but both groups were made up of four guys who wrote short catchy pop songs about random topics whose main intention was to be a good time, both had two central members who had a lot of conflict, both never intended to be particularly important or influential but were… and this got me thinking about what if there were more similarities between the two groups.

After the success of ‘Leave Home’ in 1977 the Ramones star in their first film, ‘Rocket to Russia’, a quirky comedy about the band themselves embarking on their first Russian tour but having a lot of problems with the personnel and equipment on their rocket. After their next studio effort, ‘Road to Ruin’, they work on a slightly more ambitious film, ‘End of the Century’, about a cult who are planning a mass murder for the year 1999 only to realise that the sacrificial boating shoes are being worn by Marky Ramone. Over this period the Ramones discovered a growing interest in expanding their musical vision, learnt a few more chords, and incorporated folk and soul influences on ‘Pleasant Dreams’ in 1981, which has now become the indie controversialist’s pick for the best album. This period also marked Dee Dee Ramone’s growing interest in sampling, something he had first hear while filming ‘Rocket to Russia’, a technique which he would incorporate into a number of later songs.

It wasn’t until 1982’s ‘Subterranean Jungle’ that the band truly cemented their own place in rock history by pioneering an up-and-coming musical movement of the time, hip hop. The critics loved how they used rhythm, production and the spoken word to create effects never seen before, and even bigger was in 1984 when amid the growing singles climate of synth-pop, the Ramones released the first rap concept album, ‘Too Tough to Die’. The album focuses on a group who suffer a simultaneous near-death experience while performing, but pull through, only to have these events repeat themselves later, and the cover features a painting of the band surrounded by many famous serial killers. This concept was partly inspired by the fact that the band had recently stopped touring or playing live after a few instances of deaths during their shows due to overexcitement: they wanted to protect their fans and themselves from this fate.

It’s worth noting that ‘Too Tough to Die’ singlehandedly inspired 75% of rock bands of the mid 80s to write their own concept albums. A staggering number of these concept albums, however, were about sex, and all of these were written by hair metal bands.

The Ramones push the boat out further on 1986’s sprawling double album ‘Animal Boy’, featuring a plain red cover, over thirty songs in over twenty musical styles, and provoking a debate that rages to this day about whether or not it would have been better as a single album. Things go downhill for their next and final film, ‘Halfway to Sanity’, a cheery, colour-themed singalong about patients in a mental hospital, accompanied by a maligned soundtrack album. This, the realisation that they were unlikely to make any more significant developments to music, and the growing conflict between leaders Joey and Johnny and the marginalised Dee Dee caused the Ramones to seriously discuss splitting.

On 30 January 1989, the Ramones performed their final live show on the roof of the CBGB club during recordings for ‘Mondo Bizarro’ (provisional title Poison Heart) which would become their final album. However, the album’s sessions were torturous for all involved and consequently the project was temporarily abandoned, and the group returned to the studio to record their swansong, ‘Brain Drain, the second side of which constituted ‘The Pet Sematary Medley’ of interlinked songs packed with distorted fuzz guitars and angsty lyrics and consequently is said to be one of the first grunge songs. For the cover, the band photographed themselves striding confidently over an elongated drain, seemingly unaware of the brain tissue below.

‘Mondo Bizarro’ was eventually released in 1992, although Johnny Ramone was reportedly unhappy with it and later recorded ‘Mondo Bizarro… Without Clothes’ for his own personal satisfaction.

I had way too much fun writing this.

Pink Floyd: Ummagumma

Ummagumma

Best song: Careful With That Axe Eugene

Worst song: The Grand Vizier’s Garden Party

Overall grade: Live album – 6 and studio album – 3. Overall – 4 because of inconsistency .

Pink Floyd’s first live album is also their best. That’s not to say I don’t like the other ones, but… well, put it this way, if I had a time machine and I was allowed to use it to go back in time to see live music, Pink Floyd in the sixties would be right at the top of my list. As it happens, I don’t have a time machine, and I never will, because if time travel was going to be invented, surely the people from the future would have travelled back in time and told us? But that’s hardly on topic. Point is, this album is the only official document of live 60s Floyd there is.

All four live tracks are better than their studio versions, and three of them are amazing in studio, so that tells you something. ‘Careful With That Axe Eugene’ was only ever released as a b-side and never worked so well in the studio setting, but live it’s mind-blowing, a masterpiece of playing with dynamics, suspense and shock complete with bone-chilling screams and the single vocal line which is growled with an ominous intensity.

‘Astronomy Domine’ is done in more of a psychedelic jam-band style, and again both are superb, although it’s always sad to hear David singing instead of Syd. ‘Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun’ is majestic and powerful in its restrained quietness for the first few minutes, before becoming more improvisational near the end, and even though its counterpart on the ‘Saucerful’ album is one of my favourite Floyd songs ever, I still just about prefer this rendition. And lastly, there’s ‘A Saucerful of Secrets’ itself, the most similar to its original version, but with a ‘Celestial Voices’ section that’s infinitely more beautiful.

Then, because the band didn’t have any group compositions planned, and clearly didn’t like each other enough to get together and write any, so, ELP-style, each of them was given a quarter of a studio album to fill with their solo work. To be honest, they should have just made it a double live album, including Interstellar Overdrive and other such things, but maybe the record company wanted some new material.

One of the band members rose to the challenge superbly and came up with two classic songs, and the other three, well, didn’t. I’d like to say that it was somebody surprising like Nick Mason who excelled, but no, it was predictably Roger Waters. He was the only member to split his portion of record into two wildly different musical ideas. His first contribution was ‘Grantchester Meadows’, possibly his most successful pastoral folk rock style piece, although ‘If’ comes close. Spacious, gently played and softly sung, someone who normally sees the Floyd as too weird could easily enjoy this song, so long as they turn it off before the fly gets swatted at the end. However, the same can’t be said for ‘Several Species of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together In A Cave and Grooving With A Pict’ (on my list of 5 Greatest Song Titles Ever™; coming soon) which I can’t in good faith refer to as music. Essentially, it’s Roger testing out all the studio effects he could, and only on his voice – there’s no instruments at all in this song… which technically makes it one of the first purely electronic songs? The Scottish poetry and animal noises are hilarious once in a while, but I’d be concerned if someone claimed to play it every day.

Going down in quality, David Gilmour writes a piece called ‘The Narrow Way’, which I think could have been really good if the rest of the group had been involved with writing it. Sadly, I don’t think a 23-year-old Gilmour was capable of successfully writing a 12-minute track, so although there’s some groovy space rock in the second part and a good melody in the final, vocal part, it feels more like an unfinished demo than a real song.

Down one more, Rick Wright pens a pseudo-classical piece based on a Greek myth about a guy called Sisyphus who was forced to roll a boulder up a hill, watch it fall back down and repeat this for eternity. Does it sound like Rick’s getting ideas above his station? He is. The piece isn’t worthless, as Rick’s a good player and this does show through at times, like the piano section which is quite enjoyable, but overall it’s hardly essential listening.

Since it’s Rick’s birthday at the time I’m writing this (July 28) I feel compelled to mention that he did write some good songs and I’m a big fan of his 1996 solo album.

Last, there’s Nick Mason’s ‘The Grand Vizier’s Garden Party’. My favourite thing about this closer is the title and my second favourite is the flute intro/outro, which is played by his now-ex-wife. The rest of it is a 9-minute Mason drum solo, and although I really like long drum solos played by skilled, exciting and inventive players, Nick Mason is none of these things, and I would not encourage listening multiple times in search of hidden depths – there aren’t any. Nick is a good speaker and writer, though, so perhaps he should have used his section of the record to tell a story.

A necessary purchase, but if you eventually start using the studio disc as a coaster, don’t be too surprised.

Taylor Swift: Taylor Swift

Taylor Swift

Best song: Tim McGraw

Worst song: Stay Beautiful

Overall grade: 4

The first time I listed to Taylor Swift was when this was the only album she’d released. A friend of mine posted the lyrics to ‘Mary’s Song’ in a forum signature on the Internet, and considering I was something of a hopeless romantic at the time, I fell in love with it before I’d even heard her sing it. I wanted a relationship like that. So I listened to it, and I listened over and over again, and then I started listening to all her other songs (the rest of this album, as well as a whole bunch of unreleased songs that you can find on YouTube). Taylor Swift just ‘got’ me, so I played them all out until I was sick of them, and then she announced her second album! It was an incredible moment for a 12-year-old.

As time went on and I started to listen to older and more obscure music, most popular or mainstream artists that I’d previously liked started to seem insignificant in comparison to what Roger Waters was singing about on ‘Comfortably Numb’, and steadily I stopped listening to them. But strangely enough, that’s never happened with Taylor Swift. I’ve gone on to buy her third and fourth albums and consider her to be consistently above the quality of most of what my housemates play, and I think her being lumped in with other ‘MTV artists’ of today is quite unfair.

Now, among those who do like Swift, this album is generally either their favourite or least favourite, and for the same reason whichever it is – it’s a full blown country album. (One of only two that I own. I don’t consider country to be a favourite genre of mine, though I have nothing against it either and enjoy the occasional song – see ‘I’m Gonna Hire A Wino To Decorate Our Home’. Or maybe I just find that song hilarious. Whichever.) Either they have the opinion that she was never as good once she started incorporating pop influences, or that she didn’t become as good until she had those pop influences.

I’d call it the worst, not because of the country, since the fairly simple, acoustic style worked well for her at a time when she had less songwriting experience, but because the record as a whole lacks diversity (the production is incredibly similar on all the songs and Swift’s voice sounds identical throughout), continuity (a lot of the songs sound awkward next to one another and are better appreciated when played individually), and lacks anything spectacular (songs are fairly good throughout, but a serious listener would be unlikely to call them superb). I guess it’s also been hurt by my overplaying it, as many of the songs don’t hold up so well to long term listening – they’re good on the surface only.

But I have a lot of respect for the fact that, even at age 16, she has a solo or co-writing credit on all of her songs. Most of the songs are about love, something she often gets criticised for, but they show a lot of different perspectives on the subject – so for each one that’s a little stupid, like the childish reasons for infatuation on ‘Stay Beautiful’, there’s always a ‘Tim McGraw’ that has a much more mature outlook, in this case the bittersweet memory of a summer romance that had to end. And there’s several examples of songs that relate to different subject matter – see ‘A Place in this World’, ‘The Outside’ and ‘Tied Together With A Smile’.

It’s hardly a massive statement of a debut, but the talent’s definitely here.

The Who: A Quick One

A Quick One

Best song: Whiskey Man

Worst song: See My Way

Overall grade: 4

It certainly is a quick one. A far cry from the expanded double albums the band would be putting out in a few short years, here they decide to make their point in 31 minutes and 48 seconds, precisely. In addition, this album sticks out in the Who’s catalogue as being the only real opportunity to assess the songwriting talents of all four members. Aaaand the winner is… John Entwhistle! Pete was of course more prolific, but John was already writing really great songs while Pete wasn’t quite there yet. John pens two of the tunes on this album, the first being ‘Boris the Spider’, the sillier one. But never have I been so invested in the fate of an arachnid! It works as well as it can for what it is, maybe more. But ‘Whiskey Man’ is his true big moment, a simple, sad song with a nostalgic feel to it.

Unexpectedly, Keith Moon also writes good songs! ‘Cobwebs and Strange’ is mostly an excuse for him to do some drum soloing, but it’s kept to a reasonable length and I do get into the way it gets faster and crazier as it goes on, and ‘I Need You’ is quirky pop, not a whole lot to it, but enjoyable nevertheless. Add in the energetic, Beatles-influenced ‘Run Run Run’ and try not to spend too much time thinking about the pointless cover of ‘Heat Wave’ and you have yourself a pretty good novelty of a first side.

I can take or leave Side 2. It’s dragged down a lot by Roger Daltrey’s ‘See My Way’. Anyone who wonders why the guy didn’t write that many songs needs to look no further than here. Almost as bad is ‘Don’t Look Away’ when Pete tries – unsuccessfully – to go country. In fact, the only track on this side that I can honestly say I’d choose to listen to is the hard rocking ‘So Sad About Us’, because it’s heavy and very guitar-driven and kind of makes me understand why kids in the 60s listened to this music and wanted to get out and start their own bands.

The most significant song here is the title track, on which Pete Townshend tries to create a mini rock opera in 9 minutes. The story of a cheating girlfriend certainly makes much more sense than most rock operas, but the music doesn’t – it’s very disjointed, and the different musical ideas don’t flow well into a complete song. Even if they did, I still wouldn’t think it was awesome, as some of the parts are really annoying, particularly ‘Soon Be Home’, which I get no enjoyment out of. The entire song, much like the whole of ‘My Generation’, is more influential than it is good.

This album is an improvement over the last one, and thinking about it, it’s enough to make me raise its grade, even if this is still nothing spectacular. Townshend is putting effort in, though, and before too long it’ll pay off.

Nirvana: Nevermind

Nevermind

Best song: Something In The Way

Worst song: On A Plain

Overall grade: 4

If there’s one type of person I really can’t stand, it is the Nirvana superfan. You know, the one who’s all ‘Nirvana is the greatest thing that ever happened to music! Kurt Cobain is a genius and no other songwriter before or since could come anywhere close!’ The kind who worships the band with an undying devotion and considers them impossible of doing any wrong. Now, many bands have a subset of fans like this one, but Nirvana’s are some of the most extreme I’ve come across. And I’ve never told any of them this because I’m a coward who doesn’t like having eggs thrown at her, but…

‘Nevermind’ is so overrated.

I mean, I like it and all. I can even see why people love it. But this whole ‘greatest album of the 90s, singlehandedly saved rock’ rubbish is just that. If you asked me the greatest album of the 90s, that’d be… well, that review’s coming up next week and I won’t spoil it. And I don’t think there’s one album that singlehandedly saved rock. Even as far as grunge goes, when that’s what I’m in the mood for I’m more likely to put on Pearl Jam.

But I do still like this album (cannot stress that enough) and I have tried very hard to understand what it is about Kurt Cobain that makes people worship him like others worship John Lennon or Bob Dylan. I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s because he seems like a real person. He doesn’t seem like someone famous, from another world who has a lot of money and spends his time writing songs/making records; he seems like the slightly weird guy who sits at the back of your maths class or a random, hunched-over dude with big headphones who you notice on the bus, and he just happens to write songs in his spare time. Which accidentally get released and become huge hits, of course.

I don’t know how much this is true and how much it’s an act, so it’s not why I like him; I like him because he took simple pop tunes and put them through punk and metal filters so that they came out as a schizophrenic blend of both. It’s a very effective way of appealing to a wide variety of people, but of course, it was so effective that he just repeated it every time for every song, with one or two exceptions. I’ll quickly mention these: ‘Something In The Way’ reminds me of the Beatles and is a surprising, but excellent, finish, and it even has a cello, which is cool. I love ‘Polly’ too, it’s a song that really sucks me into the story. But I won’t talk about the huge hit songs – what is there to say? Apart from the fact that Dave Grohl’s drumming sets them apart slightly from other big radio hits of the time.

This record, well, it’s a contradiction in terms. It’s meant to be alternative and anti-mainstream but it’s actually incredibly accessible and fun; it’s supposed to be revolutionary but much of the bass and guitar work is pretty generic. I think its reputation has spoiled it a bit. I’m supposed to like it so much that I find myself drifting in the opposite direction until I actually listen to it. That’s the moment when I realise, these songs are mostly good and yeah, these guys had talent. Just maybe not for quite the same things as a lot of people think.

Simon & Garfunkel: Sounds of Silence

Sounds of Silence 

Best song: The Sound of Silence

Worst song: Anji

Grade: 4

I hate giving this a 4, I really do, because I have so much history with it. Simon & Garfunkel are the band that really got me interested in music – I heard the songs ‘I Am a Rock’ and ‘The Sound of Silence’ and I was completely blown away, because I didn’t know music could sound like that, safe in my bubble of McFly and Busted. The next day I walked down to the shops and into HMV, and making sure nobody was looking, I searched to see if they had any Simon & Garfunkel. They did; this one, and so it was the first CD I ever bought for myself.

Course, that means every single song has a lot of nostalgia for me, but looking at it with critical eyes, it’s patchy. The almost-title track is outstanding, of course, with the way it starts off so quiet and intimate with Paul Simon almost whispering the first line, and builds up all the way to the crescendo of ‘And the sign said the words of the prophets were written on the subway walls…’ Yeah, a classic. ‘Leaves That Are Green’ is folky and fun, but without the substance that’s present in their best work. ‘Blessed’ is an attempt at being a bit more harder-rocking, and while it’s not a total failure, it feels a bit awkward at times, like they’re not quite comfortable with the style.

Then we come to Kathy’s Song, which has a gorgeous melody, but disappointingly lacks any Art Garfunkel, and I firmly believe that Simon and Garfunkel were both at their best when they worked together. 'Somewhere They Can't Find Me' just annoys me, since it's an ugly, inferior reworking of the song 'Wednesday Morning, 3A.M.' on their debut, with a radio chorus added. I never used to like 'Anji' back when I was generally against instrumentals, but now that I really love a good instrumental track... I still don't like it. It's a pointless piece of filler and an album this short (not even 30 minutes!) really can't afford to have any filler. 368

The first two tracks on Side 2, 'Richard Cory' and 'A Most Peculiar Man', are both about men who commit suicide, which is a cheerful subject on the sunny day that I'm writing this. The arrangements are very different, though, with the first an upbeat, guitar-based, poppy number, and the second a slow, thoughtful ballad. They're both very good in their own way, though. But it's downhill from there with the boring 'April Come She Will' and 'We've Got A Groovy Thing Going', a song which would be much improved on with the later '59th Street Bridge Song.'

Luckily, the end of the album is raised far above these two with the second classic here, 'I Am A Rock'. It’s perfect in the way it looks at social alienation, but not so much in a negative way. It still manages to be fun and bouncy and in an ironic way, it feels like a song that can unite people.

'Sounds of Silence' is definitely worth listening to if you're a big fan of the later work, and certainly has its moments, but I wouldn't advise starting here – they would go on to make far more consistent, and possible far more daring, albums than this one.

Radiohead: Pablo Honey

Pablo Honey

Best song: Blow Out

Worst song: How Do You

Overall grade: 4

This is the first Radiohead album; the one that almost everyone ignores. Before I decided to review them, I’d heard it, but I’d never properly listened to it or given it the time and attention I have all the later Radiohead albums. Now that I have, I’ve realised I enjoy it a whole lot, nearly as much as The Bends. It may be just a bunch of 90s alt rock tunes that sound pretty similar to hundreds of other bands of the time, but it’s very high class 90s alt rock, and I’d definitely take it over anything by, say, Weezer or Beck.

Part of this, I think, is down to the sheer charisma that Thom Yorke exudes all the time. It doesn’t seem like he puts any effort into this, but something about him just makes me want to listen to him. Radiohead’s music has always had this great quality of drawing you in and making you want more.

The songs are a mixed bag. On the one hand, there’s the band’s first hit single ‘Creep’, which deserves its status. Those dead notes Johnny Greenwood plays really took me by surprise when I first heard them, and they still give me a thrill. There’s a great interplay between the vocals and the guitars; ditto for the opener ‘You’ (part of which is in 11/8 time! Yay!) ‘ On the other hand, there’s the following track, ‘How Do You’, which is a good example of punk done badly. A bit of shouting and a lot of excessive guitar noise and people are supposed to be too busy headbanging to realise that it sucks.

Pablo Honey is definitely better when it gets more personal. I’m a big fan of ‘Stop Whispering’, which definitely has this quality. I swear it’s being performed for me and me alone, right now, rather than 20 years ago in the middle of a recording studio. And then there’s ‘Thinking About You’, a short acoustic song with a nice organ part. And also ‘Anyone Can Play Guitar’ has a great bass line, as well as the moment where Yorke sings ‘I wanna be wanna be wanna be Jim Morrison!’ which might be the only moment in Radiohead history where he sounds like he’s letting go and not carefully controlling every note.

Unfortunately, one thing I notice all the way through is that the band really haven’t figured out how to write a decent instrumental break yet. In addition, the album certainly gets a bit samey in the second half, like in ‘Vegetable’, which is just bleh, but there are enough good moments to keep it from getting boring, like the cool marching drums part in the coda to ‘I Can’t’.

I’m someone who thinks endings are really important. The final track can make or break a record for me, and this one here certainly makes it. ‘Blow Out’ is the clearest sign pointing towards where Radiohead would go next, with its jazzy influences and its clever use of dynamics and buildups. It gives the sense that even over the past 42 minutes, the band have matured, and are getting ready to become something really special.