The Court Yard Hounds’ “Court Yard Hounds” (2010) – Yes, No, or Maybe So

The Court Yard Hounds’ Court Yard Hounds (2010) – MAYBE NOT

The Court Yard Hounds' self-titled debut (2010)

The Court Yard Hounds' self-titled debut (2010)

By Chris Moore:

(May 4, 2010)

Review:

As Robison and Maguire have been playing together in the Dixie Chicks for over two decades, it is difficult to consider Court Yard Hounds a debut release; that being said, although it has its strengths — a particularly strong first four tracks followed by solid efforts here and there — it simply does not fully satisfy (although I must admit my bias in holding this duo’s material up to the Dixie Chicks’ outstanding 2006 release Taking the Long Way).

Top Two Tracks:

“See You in the Spring” (with Jakob Dylan) & “The Coast”

Menomena’s “Mines” (2010) – The Weekend Review

By Chris Moore:

RATING:  4 / 5 stars

The clean, clear pattern of bass and guitar give way to the atmospheric hum of vague distortion and drum fills.  The singer declares and repeats, “I walked right in through the rabbit’s door / And walked right into a rabbit’s hole / I made myself an open book / I made myself a sitting duck.”  It ends disjointed, harmonies both beautiful and haunting, and it ends with a final tom hit.

This is “Queen Black Acid,” Menomena’s opening track on Mines.  It hints at the blend of trippy and serious qualities that are to come, and it aptly sets up this Carrollian dream image of the rabbit’s hole.  For Mines, though, openness isn’t a celebrated childhood quality.

For Mines, openness is a characteristic of those liable to get hurt.

Across eleven tracks, Menomena assemble a patchwork of riffs, both instrumental and lyrical, and achieve a whole that is greater than the sum of its parts.  The manner in which the band composes is a fascinating process of playing out for extended periods of time, examining the results, working in pieces, writing lines and instrumental segments to connect parts into the resulting whole songs and, ultimately, sequencing the whole album.

“Killemall” is a striking example of the outcome of this process, uniting such diverse segments as smoothly as it does.  There are frantic drums, manic piano, haunting background vocals broken up by stops filled with harsh bursts of drums and organ.  Thematically, the concept of truth is explored, and the implications for honesty in the living aren’t promising: “Have you met your ghost? / He says things that you won’t” and, later, “The spirits are ventriloquists / They say the thing that must be said.”  The riffs on piano (and one other instrument I “ain’t quite identified yet”) are the glue that holds this composition together.  To write a whole song based merely on one of the handful of sections would probably not be rewarding.

Taken as a whole, “Killemall” is a compelling song.

Mines (Menomena, 2010)

Mines (Menomena, 2010)

Considering the jam mentality at the front-end and the fragmented nature of the segments sorted out at the back-end, the coalescence apparent in the final product is a remarkable feat of songwriting.

From the lulling sadness of the “Dirty Cartoons” refrain of “I’d like to go home, go home” to the distorted guitar that cracks through the silence in the opening movement of “Tithe,” it is clear that a narrative of sorts is being strung together.  The latter settles on the realization “Nothing seems appealing” and subsequently devolves into a cacophony of riffs and voices battling for attention.

This leads the listener to the “shit storm” and the narrator’s “sinking ship” on “BOTE,” a centerpiece track that presents a crisis expressed in seafaring metaphors and explores the resulting shocks of awakening.  “I thought I was tough / I thought I was strong / Thought I could handle anyone who came along,” comes the first confession.  This is followed quickly by the qualification that, “The worth of a boat’s / In how well it floats / And this old boat won’t float for long with all these holes / So I grab both sides with iron will / It’s fit for war but weighs too much and starts to fill.”  Herein lies the weakness that sunk the ship: what was thought to be strength was actually a heaviness that doomed the ship after it had taken several hard hits, struck with “holes”.

Another instance of a clever device comes on “Oh Pretty Boy, You’re a Big Boy” when the band opens with the lines, “All my life I’ve run away / From those who’ve begged me to stay / All your love is not enough / To fill my half empty cup.”  This nomadic sense is extended at the close of the song, as the onus of the fear is flipped to focus on the narrator’s shortcomings: “All my love was in one place / Til I let it escape / And all my love is not enough / To fill your half empty cup.”

It is on the eerie “Five Little Rooms” that the singer repetitively declares, “All this could be yours someday.”  This is referring directly to the five little rooms and their tenants, but it could also be understood to suggest the landscape and content of the album as a whole, this vulnerability that has been inescapably stumbled upon.

The natural response to this is anticipated in the line: “All this someday could be yours / Cross your heart, click your heels and get the hell away.”

Mines presents a richly dangerous and dysfunctional landscape of love, fear, and loss: loss of control, loss of hope.  Knopf, Harris, and Seim juggle instruments and singing duties, blurring the lines between roles in the band and consequently blurring the lines of what a song is supposed to sound like.  There are loops here and riffs and repetition, but there are also authentic instruments and carefully constructed words and sounds.  Mines lays out a world that one can get lost in, one anticipated in the cry/prayer in “Taos”: “Oh my God bring me peace from this wolf covered in fleece / I can’t shake loose from its teeth / Oh my God set me free for I’ve no ability to cut my leash and walk away, away, away…”

For its composition, imagination, and innovation, Mines is one of the premier albums of the year.  At the risk of overstatement, it is a record that calls for a reassessment of what an album can be.

Foo Fighters’ “There is Nothing Left to Lose” (1999) – Yes, No, or Maybe So

Foo Fighters’ There is Nothing Left to Lose (1999) – MAYBE NOT

Foo Fighters' "There is Nothing Left to Lose" (1999)

Foo Fighters' "There is Nothing Left to Lose" (1999)

(November 2, 1999)

Review:

Although this album somehow managed to rake in better reviews than The Colour and the Shape (1997), these songs — for all their potential and positive aspects — generally fall flat (i.e. “Learn to Fly” is wonderfully catchy but irritatingly repetitive; the outstanding “Generator” is marred by perhaps the most annoying guitar effect on record).

Top Two Tracks:

“Next Year” & “Gimme Stitches”

Pearl Jam’s “Ten” (1991, 2009 Remix Deluxe Edition) – The Weekend Review

By Chris Moore:

RATING:  5 / 5 stars

If I were to post a one-sentence review of this album, it would read something like this:

“Pearl Jam’s Ten is the Pet Sounds of the grunge rock genre.”

I do not take such a comparison lightly, so let me begin by explaining my reasoning in detail.  In both cases, the general public took some time to warm up to the songs, but they have both ended up making regular appearances on “Best Albums” lists, both of the decade and of all-time.  In both cases, the songs and the image projected via artwork and touring would define the band for years to come.  Finally, in both cases, the album stands out as head and shoulders above and beyond other similar work being released at the same time from the same genres.

While Pet Sounds was the Beach Boys’ eleventh release and arguably more of a Brian Wilson solo album, Ten was Pearl Jam’s debut album, their very first studio release, and as much of a group effort as any rock album ever recorded.  Of course, the former came at a turning point — it perhaps caused or at least contributed to that turning point — for rock/pop music in the sixties.  Virtually every album that came after can be traced in some way back to that foundation.

In that sense, I do not mean to overstate Ten‘s importance by comparison.

Still, though its influence cannot compare, Pearl Jam somehow managed — and in their debut, no less — to compose and record as strong a set of songs as any being released during the early nineties and certainly from the grunge scene.  From fade in to fade out, Ten demonstrates a simultaneous command of subtlety, beauty, and gripping lyrical content, while also delving into raw, reckless abandon in a manner that is not sloppy yet not too controlled.

Almost two decades later, it is one of the cornerstone albums of the nineties and of rock music as a whole.

Pearl Jam's "Ten" (1991, 2009 remix)

Pearl Jam's "Ten" (1991, 2009 remix)

As the cover suggests, Pearl Jam decided from the very beginning to be an “all for one, one for all” sort of group.  Outside of their revolving door of a drummer’s seat in the first decade, they have followed through on the promise implicit in that pose.

And this is what makes the individual tracks so strong for a first release.  As the various band members have stated in interviews over the years, many of these songs began life as Stone Gossard/Jeff Ament band jams, riffs and solos that were worked on and written, refined, and improved over a period of time.  When Eddie Vedder was brought in, he carried with him a new sense of lyricism and a unique voice that brought these instrumentals to life.  To this day, the issues and emotions expressed on Ten make for very compelling listening.

Critical opinions on Ten vary widely, though that difference has most often been the distance between five and four stars, or an A and a B-.  Most reviews have been positive, at least to some extent, but I find it difficult to understand any rating that falls short of recognizing the outstanding fusion of classic and modern rock, energetic performances and purposeful recording studio techniques, standout songs and an overall cohesive sound and voice that define this album.

Pearl Jam's "Ten" (1991)

Pearl Jam's "Ten" (1991)

Any great tale should begin with “Once upon a time…,” and Ten does.  It’s clear from the opening that this is no fairy tale, and “Once” sets the tone for the other songs to follow.  (Taken in a different context, “Once” has also been situated as the second in a three track series known as Mamasan, or Momma-son.  This three song cycle follows the story of “Alive” into the murderous “Once” and concludes with what has been read as an execution in “Footsteps.”)

“Even Flow” and “Alive” follow on Ten, unfolding one powerful, catchy riff after another, all driven by Vedder’s vocals.  These are the songs that you wish you could play along to, and the songs that you try to sing to.

Even the by-comparison mediocre tracks shine, like “Why Go” with its driving beat, shouted chorus, and manic guitar solo.

It’s forgotten, though, by the time the next track unfolds.  “Black” is a true masterpiece: put your headphones on for this one and listen for the way the instruments all play an intricate part, and yet how all the components gel around Vedder’s magnificent lead, made most impressive by what can only be called his vocal solo on the outro.

Next comes “Jeremy,” based on the true story of a boy who was bullied to the point of desperation, bringing a gun to school one day to shoot himself in front of his classmates.  The refrain “Jeremy spoke in class today” gains more poignancy as the song continues.

The second half of the album nicely mixes the tempo and tenor of tracks.  There are the slower, more melancholy tracks like “Oceans” and “Release.”  There is the declaration of independence and survival that is “Garden.”  Then there the rockers like “Deep” and its even more well-constructed, entertaining counterpart, the Vedder-penned “Porch.”

The outtakes from this period and the Ten recording sessions are nothing short of phenomenal.  Ament reportedly considered leaving the band when Gossard grew tired of “Brother,” a gem that went unreleased until 2009’s remix.  Even better is the live standard “Yellow Ledbetter,” a masterpiece in its own right.  While I understand the decision to leave “State of Love and Trust,” “Wash,” and the aforementioned “Footsteps” off the record, I am thrilled to have them as outtakes.  These are all songs that I look forward to, and they certainly transcend the typically forgettable bonus track fare.

From front to back, Ten is not only the strongest album in Pearl Jam’s considerable catalog — and this is saying something — but it is one of the best rock albums of all time.  The balance that was struck here between interesting musical compositions and engaging vocal performances set a bar few albums since have been able to rise to.  This is an album that deserved a reissue, and the deluxe edition (2 CD/1 DVD combo) was no doubt the best, most affordable deal of the four options.  The packaging included a hard case with a scrapbook style booklet, a disc with the album as originally mixed, a second disc with the remixed tracks and six bonus tracks, and a DVD of the MTV Unplugged concert that Pearl Jam performed in 1992.  This performance alone was worth the price of the album, and seeing Vedder, Ament, Gossard, Mike McCready, and Dave Abbruzzese was a clear reminder that these were different times: the grunge look has since gone out of style, but viewing this DVD provides an opportunity to see them in their early prime, each band member smiling at various moments in different songs, celebrating the outstanding music that they had written in brand-new acoustic arrangements.

(On this, the nineteen anniversary since the recording sessions began, the Weekend Review tips its hat to Ten and encourages you to squeeze in a listen very soon!)