Showing posts with label serious apology for lateness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label serious apology for lateness. Show all posts

Monday, 27 January 2014

[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.

Monday, 4 November 2013

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’.