The Jimi Hendrix Experience's "Are You Experienced?" (1967)
(May 12, 1967)
Review:
This is one of those rare albums that defies all of the rules about debut releases; it is an excellent set of outstanding songs (each and every one of them) that sets the bar so high that even Hendrix himself would be unable to top it.
Top Two Tracks:
“Purple Haze” & “Stone Free”
By Chris Moore:
On the heels of my previous BnL concert review, posted little more than three months ago, there isn’t much more that needs to be said, other than to underscore several assertions concerning the Barenaked Ladies.
First, it really can never be too soon to see them play live again. After seeing them in August with decent seats and having had an outstandingly fun time, I almost considered letting this second New England tour stopover pass me by.
Almost.
Being fortunate enough to live in an area that is located in, as a friend recently referred to it, the “Barenaked Belt,” it simply doesn’t make sense to not take advantage of it. And, this time around, the venue was considerably smaller – Mohegan Sun Arena being 9500 capacity, and the Klein Auditorium being only 1400. We sat front row balcony, or “mezzanine” as the theatre people say, and got some performances that probably wouldn’t find their way into a stadium set, songs like the rarely played “Moonstone” and “Tonight is the Night I Fell Asleep at the Wheel.”
A second assertion, and perhaps the main thrust of my August review, is that BnL is every bit as good as they were when Steven Page was in the band. This is surprising, as he is such a unique talent and a man who brings considerable stage presence and energy to the live shows.
And, for the record, let’s be clear that I would love to see the five-man band reunited at some point down the road.
But, for now, the four-piece Barenaked Ladies are still a force to be reckoned with, and they have apparently decided that no catalog item is off limits, regardless of how much of a “Steven” song it is/was. Take, for example, the fairly standard middle of their order, a veritable greatest hits of Steven Page tracks: “Sound of Your Voice,” “It’s All Been Done,” “Too Little Too Late,” and “Brian Wilson,” all topped off with the not-so-subtle “You Run Away.”
A third assertion is one that struck me early in the set last night: the Barenaked Ladies are the rare group of men that have gotten cooler as the years pass. One needs only to compare their image and sound from the excellent and not-to-be-slighted Gordon era with their current stage show in order to appreciate just how cool they’ve become without losing too many fans to claims of selling out.
They have such a vast array of music, and to a certain degree, they allow for it in their set lists. Although there are certain songs that you can reasonably expect (and in certain orders), there is room for adlibs and unexpected deep tracks, songs like those mentioned above. Even songs that have been played about ten thousand times over their career, like “One Week,” have taken on a fresh appeal. With Kevin Hearn singing the Page parts of “One Week” last night, I think they’ve finally perfected their recent live arrangement of this, their best-known composition. Likewise, Tyler Stewart and Jim Creeggan have stepped up their game, Stewart bringing down the house with his reinvigorated, Jack Black-esque approach to “Alcohol” and Creeggan with his on-stage gesticulations, ear-to-ear grin, and acceptance of the spotlight for tracks like “On the Lookout” and “Peterborough and the Kawarthas.”
Finally, as if it needs to be said, Ed Robertson is a force unto himself. His white man rapping helped to establish the band’s public image, and he is ever willing to put himself out there for a laugh.
When I choose the words “put himself out there,” I mean that literally.
Last night, as a tribute to their excellent opening act Jukebox the Ghost’s final night on tour, Robertson emerged from backstage with only a towel on. Then, positioning himself between keyboardist/lead vocalist Ben Thornewill and the audience, he opened his towel so only Thornewill could see him and proceeded to dance to the music. He moved around the stage and repeated this process for the other two band members. Meanwhile, the crowd was laughing and clapping and screaming, and guitarist Tommy Siegel laughed his way through his vocals.
As Thornewill pointed out after the song, he could only see Robertson in his peripheral vision at first. When he reached his hand out to pretend to tickle him, he found that Robertson was indeed wearing only a towel.
Never let it be said that the “Barenaked” part of their band name hasn’t been earned.
Forgive me for getting up on my soapbox yet again, but BnL continues to be one of the most underappreciated rock music acts of the modern age. If you or someone you know hears “Barenaked Ladies” and instantly thinks “goofy,” “funny,” “If I Had $1,000,000,” and/or “One Week,” then check bnlmusic.com for a tour date in your area. One show and you’ll be hooked. Guaranteed.
I’ve been a fan now for over a decade, and they continue to recapture my interest and adoration each and every time I see them live.
As I climb off my soapbox, I bid you good day and hope this review might at least inspire a spin of Maroon or Stunt. Or Gordon. Or Maybe You Should Drive. Or Everything to Everyone. Or…
Well, you get the idea.
By Chris Moore:
RATING: 3.5 / 5 stars
Simply put, Hurley is Weezer’s return to high energy rock music.
And it’s good.
Okay, so I’ll admit that it is difficult to take an album like Hurley seriously, given the ostensibly random title and accompanying cover photo that is apropos of nothing contained within. And yet, you should endeavor to get past the cover, the pathetic excuse for CD packaging, and the bad press the album has received from those who, on the heels of Raditude, understandably won’t give it a chance, including — perhaps most notably — one James Burns, a man currently engaged in a campaign to raise $10 million as incentive for Weezer to break up.
I would suggest that he give this album a chance, but it turns out he not only is not but also has never been a fan of the band.
This is such a pity, as Hurley is an album so true to classic Weezer that it makes more sense to compare it to The Green Album (2001) than any of the four subsequent releases. Aside from the echoes of Raditude on “Smart Girls,” the rock sensibility of Hurley extends past the experimental aura of The Red Album, doesn’t quite match the tone of Make Believe, and is certainly not cut out of the same carefully orchestrated hard rock fabric that defined Maladroit.
Musically, the track listing conjures those early albums: a total running time that barely cracks the half hour mark across ten songs with concise titles, all upbeat rock tracks with distorted guitars that play like a mix between garage rock and clean studio sounds.
As for the cover, I have never understood the criticism lobbed at The Red Album and Raditude. Because a man who looks like a doll reading a newspaper wasn’t weird. Neither, apparently, was several depressed looking cartoons wearing the traditional garb of the Orient wandering aimlessly around a snowy mountainside. And four guys standing in front of a bright blue screen looking like they’d forgotten it was picture day wasn’t odd; that was somehow classic.
Hurley (Weezer, 2010)
Weezer has always been quirky, and that has always been a large part of their appeal. In a manner that should be palatable to the average rock fan, they have assembled Hurley as a return to that form, with a couple worthwhile variations thrown in for good measure.
The opening track and lead single “Memories” is honest, in-your-face rock music that begins with reminiscences that would have fit in comfortably on The Red Album, but quickly transitions to a catchy chorus and a middle stirred to perfection with a shredded vocal delivery by Rivers Cuomo.
He loosens the reigns vocally on several other occasions, not the least of which is that pinnacle of quirkiness “Where’s My Sex?,” the shtick here being that the word “sex” replaces the word “socks” throughout the song. The result is a rocking, if somewhat ridiculous, track.
“Unspoken” is an acoustic gem, but even this song can’t help but rock out in the latter half, just as “Time Flies” wants to be the pensive closer, yet is so steady in beat as to evade the classification as a “slow song.”
Although many of the strongest tracks are placed early on the record — “Trainwrecks” being one, if not the, standout song — even the potentially mediocre numbers, like “Smart Girls” and “Brave New World,” achieve cohesion and momentum. “Ruling Me,” “Run Away,” and “Hang On” are similarly impressive in their focus and balance between simplicity and interesting vocal and instrumental hooks.
This isn’t the new Weezer classic. It shouldn’t be interpreted as the new Green Album, nor should it be compared to the heights of their career, in 1994 and 2002. And yet, as much as Make Believe was underrated (and sadly oversimplified as “the one with ‘Beverly Hills’ on it”) and as much as The Red Album grew on me and quickly became a favorite of mine in 2008, Hurley is arguably the best rock album Weezer has produced in eight years.
If nothing else, it provides proof positive that this band has not gone off the deep end (band-led hootenannies and Rivers Cuomo’s train conductor’s uniform notwithstanding). Hurley can be read as a nod to fans of their rock mentality, and the message is clear: this is a band that can still rock…. when they want to.
RATING: 4 / 5 stars
By Chris Moore
For an album that is thematically based in the mysteries of human nature and love, the opening track is remarkably straightforward. “Are you under the impression / This isn’t your life? / Do you dabble in depression?” Jeff Tweedy inquires in “Wilco (the song)” before declaring that “Wilco will love you baby.”
But don’t let the unabashed directness — even Tweedy admits it may appear cheesy at first — of this opening track deter you from taking the album seriously.
Immediately after “Wilco (the song)” fades out, the heartbeat of “Deeper Down” steadily fades in with the crash of a cymbal. This song is more subtle and serves as a reminder that the band has not lost its flair for more experimental fare, even after its flirtation with the more straightforward songwriting and jam band mentalities present on 2007’s Sky Blue Sky. Aside from the standard acoustic and electric guitars, bass, and drums, this track also incorporates lap steel (which is becoming a standard Wilco instrument, particularly since the arrival of Nels Cline), loops, harpsichord, Mellotron cello and vibraphone, bowed piano (go ahead: look up “bowed piano” — it’s wild…), synthesizer, and cimbalom. Based on the list of instrumental credits alone, it is apparent Wilco is not through with the sonic experiments that have earned them fame throughout their career, ever since the opening moments of “Misunderstood” on 1996’s Being There.
“Deeper Down” also begins to tackle the core subjects covered by the album, namely the uncertainties in both our relationships and personal lives. As Tweedy sings, “Out beyond the telescope’s pry / Up above the tallest Dutch dope high / He realized / This mystery is his.” The unknown elements that the singer is concerned with here are not the ones that can be analyzed by using scientific equipment or engaging in a study. Rather, personal demons and mysteries are on display for examination throughout the song and the album.
As the next verse begins to employ the metaphor of the ocean floor for the depths of the human mind, a creaking sound invokes the image of a deep sea vehicle moving farther and farther down into the watery depths.
This is the one track on the album that is not written solely by Tweedy. A collaboration with multi-instrumentalist Pat Sansone, “Deeper Down” is the perfect bookend to the album proper.
“One Wing” returns to the lighthearted lyricism of the opening song, the title metaphor of this third track comparing a full relationship to a bird (“We once belonged to a bird”) and the aftermath of a breakup to the separation of those all-important feathery appendages (“One wing will never ever fly, dear / Neither yours nor mine, I fear / We can only wave goodbye”). Again, this type of songwriting may seem worthy of a dismissal at first, but it works in context here.
The fourth track is anything but lighthearted. Told from the manic perspective of one who has just committed murder (online sources suggest the victim was the narrator’s girlfriend), “Bull Black Nova” is the sonic standout here, being easily the most experimental track on the album. Spin‘s review of the album suggests that this song is out of place in what is largely a body of traditionally arranged songs, but this is not the case. After all, what will drive a person to killing another — particularly a loved one — is perhaps the greatest human mystery of all.
Driven by a steady beat and arrangement of electric guitars, this track fittingly evokes the mental hysteria of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart.” Indeed, the mystery dealt with in this song is perhaps best described as how one might handle the aftermath of having committed such a heinous crime.
The first of two acoustic masterpieces, “You and I” prominently features the first duet to be included on a Wilco album. Accompanied by Leslie Feist, Tweedy presents this moving track with a fittingly subdued instrumental performance by the other members of the band. Moreover, this song advances the motif of the album. As Tweedy and Feist sing, “Oh, I don’t need to know / Everything about you / Oh, I don’t want to know / And you don’t need to know / That much about me.” This song considers the reality that two people may still be strangers, regardless of how close they become. While that may sound negative, it is turned around in the song as a positive and natural element of any relationship.
Tweedy later goes it alone on “Solitaire,” the eighth track. This is another acoustic gem highlighted by Tweedy’s understated but heartfelt double-tracked vocals. Lyrically, this is the perfect example of a simple but powerfully written song. (Click here to see the Laptop Session this song inspired.)
“You Never Know” is the first single; it comes halfway through the album, proving that Wilco was only warming up. This song nicely features all of the elements that make this an excellent band: Tweedy’s vocals, Cline’s lead guitar, Sansone’s piano, Jorgensen’s organ, and the typically strong bass and drums of Stirratt and Kotche, respectively. What stands out about this track is that it is clearly Wilco in sound and style, yet, as several other reviews have noted, the stylistic touches are strongly reminiscent of one of the best songwriter/guitarists of all time: George Harrison. It is nearly impossible to listen to “You Never Know” and not hear Harrison’s characteristic flourishes in the mix. In a recent interview, Tweedy suggested that the similarities were not planned, but that he was pleased to offer an homage.
No other journalist has pointed out that the Hammond organ stylings on “You and I” sound like a reference to Bob Dylan’s “I Believe In You,” so I’ll just throw that one out there, too…
The second half of the album is equally as strong as the first. “I’ll Fight” (a standout track) and “Sonny Feeling” (highlighted by Cline’s lap steel guitar licks) are a powerful combination, occupying the ninth and tenth slots on the album. The former is a statement of purpose, evoking Biblical references to drive the point home. The latter evades an entirely concrete interpretation, but it is clear that the song centers around a pivotal experience in a high school student’s life. The middle is perhaps the strongest section of this song, as Tweedy sings, “You know it’s true / The other shoe / It waits for you / What can you do? / Remember to show gratitude / The darkest night is nothing new.”
In addition to the aforementioned “Solitaire,” the true highlights of the second half are certainly the two acoustic-based songs “Country Disappeared” and “Everlasting Everything.” “Country Disappeared” is just about as political as you’ll hear Wilco (in song at least), but it is still best described as poetic and personal. If “Deeper Down” is a fitting thematic bookend at the opening of the album, then “Everlasting Everything” is the ideal closer. As Tweedy sings, “Oh I know this might sound sad / But everything goes, both the good and the bad / So it all adds up, and you should be glad / Everlasting love is all you had.” This is apparently what is to be found after digging “deeper down,” namely the realization that a life driven by love is worthwhile. With this, Wilco (the album) turns out to be perhaps the most positive release in the Wilco catalog.
As “Everlasting Everything” fades out and “Wilco (the song)” thunders in, listeners will find it difficult to pop the CD out of the player or change the selection on the iPod. And this is just as a great album should be. Is Wilco (the album) the perfect record, or even a masterpiece? The answer is undoubtedly in the negative. And yet there is something compelling, soothing, passionate, and masterful about it.
This is the story of a band putting out a strong seventh release, continuing to impress after an already impressive career.