The Joy Formidable – A Glorious Sonic Boom

“The mouse that roared” is a phrase that comes to mind after experiencing The Joy Formidable in a live setting.  That a three-piece band comprising mostly just one guitar, bass, and drums can produce such a massive wall of sound is both a pleasant and bludgeoning surprise.  What’s more remarkable is that amid this glorious sonic boom, the band coaxes so much melody and produces infectious songs that have an obvious pop sensibility.

 Opening with Cholla, the first single off their latest album Wolf’s Law, the band launched an aural attack that rarely abated.  The few moments of respite came when bassist Rhydian Dafydd played keyboard intros or acoustic guitar (Silent Treatment).  Lead singer and guitarist Ritzy Bryan produces much of the aforementioned roar, but it’s Dafydd and drummer Matthew James Thomas who keep the songs from derailing into noise with their precise and surprising groove.  Smartly, in a live setting Dafydd’s bass is turned up in the mix to give the song parts clarity and structure, and not just a low-end thumping.  While Bryan provides a great focal point to the band and Dafydd seems to navigate the proceedings, it’s Thomas who brings the fun rock & roll madness.  Watching his enthusiasm, technique, and humor (!), one can’t help but think of John Bonham, Keith Moon, Tommy Lee, and Animal from the Muppet Show.

     

Having seen them once before on their last tour in a relatively small church that doubled as a rock venue (!!!), it was fascinating to see their adaptability and growth as a band in a real rock club setting.  Their songs and musical ability are a given.  However, they upped their game by incorporating Rock Show elements like video projections and an omnipresent wolf logo whose lights changed colors.   

Musicians and non-musicians alike have an obnoxious penchant to compare every band to some other band – “Oh, so-and-so sound just like (fill in the blank)…”  From the band’s perspective this can be complimentary, derogatory, or sometimes just plain baffling.  Compliment or not, it’s often unfair to the band because it ignores the amount of personal creativity and work that went into producing the music, and reduces it to a comparison.  I make this admission as a disclaimer because I’m about to do exactly what I just got done railing…The Joy Formidable are reminiscent of Smashing Pumpkins at their best…and what Sonic Youth tried to sound like (but never could).  I say it as a supreme compliment.

9:30 Club, Washington, DC, Set List
 
    

Fleetwood Mac: Living Up To The Legend

All too often, the legend of a band is better than the reality.  Luckily, for the nine-year old in me who first fell in love with Stevie Nicks from the gatefold of the Rumours album while listening to Dreams on a record player in my cousin’s basement all those years ago, Fleetwood Mac is a band that lives up to its legend.  Their performance at DC’s Verizon Center was stellar. 

The signature Mac sound remains wholly intact with no regard to the calendar.  The unmistakable rhythm section of Mick Fleetwood and John McVie is still one of rock’s all-time finest, as the two practice what Keith Richards refers to as “the ancient art of weaving.”  Obviously, there’s also Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks – soulmates who still harmonize the most endearing love songs one minute, and deliver the most viciously blistering barbs to each other the next.  The internal drama, soap opera, and emotional baggage also all remain palpably present.  Although with the passage of time, the band seems to approach their music and its inherent baggage with a sense of perspective, maturity, acceptance, and a whole lot of humor.  

A triple shot from Rumours – Second Hand News, The Chain, and Dreams – set the pace for the next two hours and forty minutes, as they performed hit after hit flawlessly from arguably the greatest catalog of the ’70s So-Cal Sound (…although The Eagles might take exception to that title).  Aside from all the ubiquitous hits, the band also debuted a new song, Sad Angel, that sounded as familiar and comfortable as any of their classics.  Buckingham’s solo turn with Big Love highlighted the fact that he might be the most underrated guitarist in rock.  Nicks took a non-Fleetwood Mac spotlight with her ‘80s solo hit Stand Back.  The evening’s best surprise was a pair of songs from the pre-Fleetwood Mac Buckingham-Nicks album.  The fact that hardcore fans have to resort to YouTube to hear this out-of-print pop gem of an album is criminal.       

The one obvious quibble with Fleetwood Mac’s show is that they overlooked all the Christine McVie hits.  While it would’ve been a fitting tribute to the retired McVie if they covered her songs, perhaps the omission also is recognition that she can’t be replaced.

It should be noted that the evening’s MVP Award goes to Fleetwood Mac’s sound engineers.  While arenas like the Verizon Center are designed primarily for sporting events – not for acoustics – on this evening, the band sounded like they were performing in a controlled studio.  To my recollection, no band has ever sounded so good in what’s essentially a hockey arena.  The sound engineers achieved perfect separation and balance between instruments and vocals on the loud songs, and on the quiet songs, you could hear a pin drop onstage.

Legend aside, perhaps Fleetwood Mac’s greatest achievement of the evening was living up to the wide-eyed expectations of my inner nine-year old. 
     
Set List

Awthentik and The FIF: Who Said You Can’t Pull Off Hip-Hop Live?

Awthentik

My favorite musical partner-in-crime and I decided spontaneously on a recent Thursday night to visit The 8x10 in Baltimore, MD to drop in on the local music scene.  Not knowing at all what to expect – perhaps the best way to discover new music – we watched rapper/producer/engineer Awthentik front a band called The FIF...and tear the little playhouse down!

My long-standing complaint about 99 percent of hip-hop artists – no matter what level of fame and notoriety they’ve achieved – is that they can’t pull it off live.  To hide their inability to perform live, most resort to bringing out an entourage of 35 of their closest buddies onstage and yelling shout-outs or the incessant and oh-so-original, “Wave yo’ hands in the air…”  At best (or is that worst?), they rap to pre-recorded backing tracks.  I’m looking at you, Kanye!

Awthentik and The FIF belong to that rare one percent.

As a rapper, Awthentik has all the flair, flow, and swagger of the biggest of ‘em – Jay-Z, Naz, Common, Q-Tip, etc.  The five-piece FIF, backing up the rhymes, are super-tight and super-funky and…here’s what sets them apart from most others playing in a small club….they sound HUGE without over-playing or sledgehammering you with sheer volume.  The FIF achieve the perfect laid-back-but-intense funk backdrop for Awthentik’s raps with just the right amount of modern-day keyboards/sampling over vintage Soul Train-worthy guitar, bass, and drums.

Awthentik’s website claims that his music “brings a fresh approach with a recognizable flavor from the ‘Golden Era’ of hip-hop.”  I have to disagree just a little bit because….when Awthentik and The FIF are rockin’ the party, this is the Golden era of hip-hop.

A Love Letter to 1975

Can anyone seriously make the claim that a particular year in music was better or more important than another?  Given the subjective nature of the subject, probably not.  At best, it makes for a great semi-drunken debate among your music-nerd friends. 

All that said, 1975 was the greatest year in modern music!

Sure, as in any other year, there was a lot of chart-topping pop cotton candy like Love Will Keep Us Together (Captain & Tennille) and Kung Fu Fighting (Carl Douglas).  However, 1975 also produced:  One Of These Nights (Eagles), Captain Fantastic & Brown Dirt Cowboy (Elton John), Physical Graffiti (Led Zeppelin), Born To Run (Bruce Springsteen), Blood On The Tracks (Bob Dylan), Venus & Mars (Paul McCartney & Wings), Welcome To My Nightmare  (Alice Cooper), Dark Horse (George Harrison), Rock & Roll (John Lennon), Blow By Blow (Jeff Beck), A Night At The Opera (Queen), Toys In The Attic (Aerosmith), Alive (KISS), Fleetwood Mac (Fleetwood Mac)…

I could actually go on, but you get the idea.  Just the albums I’ve listed are either one of the artists’ career bests or, in some cases, the start of an ascent to some of their best works.  Some of these albums also have proven to be seminal to an entire generation of musicians in the ensuing years.  If all this sounds like the hyperbolic love letter to a year in music from a writer getting on in years, then I defy you to look no further than your local Classic Rock or Oldies station.  Unlike almost any other year, songs from 1975 dominate the regular playlists of these stations on any given day in 2013.

Even bubble-gum pop reached an odd sort of zenith in 1975 in that an inordinate number of those songs has outlived their successors in the hearts and memories of people and with radio station program directors – Rhinestone Cowboy (Glen Campbell), My Eyes Adored You (Frankie Valli), Sister Golden Hair (America), Mandy (Barry Manilow), Cat’s In The Cradle (Harry Chapin) – are you singing some of these songs to yourself already?...

…And then there was disco.  By 1975, disco had reached underground phenomenon status and was just bubbling under the national consciousness, but hadn’t quite skyrocketed into the decadent Tony Manero-loving coke-fuelled stratosphere, and was still a few years from its inevitable Disco Duck-ie comedown.  Yet at the moment that the genre was about to reach the national zeitgeist, it produced some of its most stellar and longest-lasting hits…Love To Love You Baby (Donna Summer), Lady Marmalade (LaBelle), Jive Talkin’ (Bee Gees), Pick Up The Pieces (Average White Band), The Hustle (Van McCoy)…and if you're too young to know some of these songs by name, trust me, you'll recognize them within the first few notes of hearing them.      

Almost 40 years on, the midpoint of the much-maligned 1970s has all the feel of a watershed moment in music when even disposable pop still retained a sense of art and craftsmanship, and rock was at that very final and purely artistic moment before it all became a wholly-owned subsidiary of corporations.    

Sure, there’s been great music produced in the past four decades.  Even in today’s short-attention span, fractured, download culture, when albums are novel dinosaurs, great music is still being produced.  However, we may never see another year like 1975 when pop, rock, and even novelty hits, all seemed to reach a simultaneous crossroad of artistic merit, AM-Radio Gold, and polyester tail-feather shaking grooviness.

When You’re Used To Wanting The Best And Always Getting The Best…

I purposely waited a few weeks before I reviewed the opening night of what’s dubbed The Tour – Motley Crue/KISS in Bristow, VA.  Before I sat down to write the review, I wanted to see YouTube clips of both bands and read accounts from subsequent stops on The Tour.  Having let a few weeks pass, I now am ready to write…

I should say at the outset that I have been a KISS fan for 33 years.  They are my second favorite band of all time.  This was the twelfth time I’ve seen them in concert.  They have always been one of the best live acts I have ever seen.  Through the years, the stage shows have varied in their level of theater and the set lists have ranged from a concentration on old songs to new songs to everything in between.

This was my first Motley Crue concert.  They’re a band who I've grown to respect as the years have gone by – in large part due to the Led Zeppelin-esque excesses recounted in their autobiography, The Dirt.  Of the ‘80s Pop Metal bands, they have certainly turned out to be one of the best – both in terms of survival and catalog of songs.  Motley Crue are the bastard sons of KISS….

…How to say this….

Motley Crue blew away KISS.
  
The Crue came onstage in a procession through the audience accompanied by Medieval Motley Crue flags, stilt walkers, and masked henchmen in orange jumpsuits who unsettlingly resembled Clockwork Orange Droogs ready to perform an evening of Ultra-Violence on the audience.  The stage motif was industrial-warehouse-meets-madhouse-circus-amusement-park-meets-Hell.  From the opening strains of Saints of Los Angeles through Wild Side and Shout At The Devil and Looks That Kill and Dr. Feelgood and Girls, Girls, Girls and other staples, right on through to the Kickstart My Heart closer, the show felt like a fiery rollercoaster gone wild.  About the only time, the Motley rollercoaster let the audience catch their breaths was during Home Sweet Home.  Throughout the controlled and orchestrated mayhem, the Motley Droogs set off balls of flame and fired water rifles, two buxom aerial acrobats gyrated on floor-to-ceiling ropes like strippers on a pole, and two more hotties sang back-up vocals. 


Photo courtesy Jeff Ingenloff

The ringmasters of this circus in hell were lead vocalist Vince Neil, bassist Nikki Sixx, guitarist/Cousin It Mick Mars, and drummer extraordinaire Tommy Lee.  If The Dirt chronicled their years of sloppy, drugged-out excess, then The Tour finds the Crue in the shape of their lives.  What a difference sobriety makes.  Vince hit notes that he never could in tours past.  Nikki maintained his Motley creative puppet master role, brandishing a flame-throwing bass, Mick’s solos were spot-on….and then there’s Tommy…

Tommy Lee deserves a paragraph to himself.  Don’t let the wild man, vapid, Heather Locklear/Pam Anderson/porn star ladykiller history and reputation distract you.  Tommy plays drums like the virtuoso he is.  Even when other drum virtuosos solo, most of the audience takes the opportunity to visit the restrooms and beer counters.  Not Tommy Lee’s audience.  His drum solo was played to a back-up tape of house music composed by Tommy….Oh, and did I mention that his drums are on a circular rollercoaster?  Tommy strapped the wife of a military serviceman with him and took her on a 360-degree ride of her life. 

Motley Crue might just be the best live band to come out of the ‘80s alive.

…Now there’s the thorny issue of KISS…

They descended onstage from a spark-spewing platform on the venue’s ceiling.  The stage resembled a lit-up Las Vegas set of bleachers.  The floor-to-ceiling KISS logo was video projected, and alternated with celluloid close-ups of the band.  There were enough lights, fire, and explosions to awaken and destroy a major American city.  Paul Stanley zip-lined over the audience to a revolving auxiliary stage in the middle of the crowd.  Gene Simmons flew up to a mini-stage atop the lighting rig.  Guitarist/Ace Frehley impersonator Tommy Thayer shot sparks from his guitar.  Drummer/Peter Criss impersonator Eric Singer levitated behind his massive drums.  A confetti blizzard covered the audience like they were in the “Canyon of Heroes” in NYC.

Photo courtesy Jeff Ingenloff

KISS incorporated all the staging highlights of previous tours into one massive bludgeoning feast for the senses.  Yet something was amiss.  Perhaps the culprit was Motley Crue’s stellar set that preceded them, set the bar far too high, and ultimately stole the show.  By comparison, the KISS stage seemed oddly less theatric and – dare I say it – slightly more subdued and lower budget.  No.  The culprit was something far more basic and seemingly insidious.

What most critics and non-fans always missed about KISS was that all the makeup and pyrotechnics was really just icing on the cake.  Behind the circus was a great rock band.  Like the critics and non-fans, on this evening, the members of KISS seemed to forget that as well.  The weakest aspect of their set was what should have been one of their strongest weapons – the songs.  For a band with such a deep well of classic songs, on this opening night, they picked only a handful of their most perennial numbers; padded it with too many mediocre songs; wasted too much time on unnecessary guitar, drums, and bass solos; and worst of all, steamrolled through the songs in an abbreviated set that even felt rushed.  Their other usual strongest link proved to be somewhat less than that as well – Paul Stanley.  Here is one of rock’s greatest singers, yet he only sang lead vocals on five of the thirteen songs in the set.  That might have been fine, but what replaced the songs he could have performed were plodding, mediocre songs by Gene Simmons – not one of rock’s greatest singers.  In an already abbreviated set, there was no reason for Simmons to sing God Of Thunder AND War Machine – essentially the same songs.  I Love It Loud could have been shelved as well. 

There also was some question about the state of Stanley’s voice.  Hardcore KISS fans know that 2009’s Sonic Boom album featured a slightly raspier Stanley.  During the band’s last tour in 2010, Stanley’s voice was very hit-or-miss depending on the night you happened to catch them.  Belying a larger issue, Stanley underwent throat surgery last year.  On this opening night, Stanley seemed to struggle on the vocals in spots.  He didn’t help himself by straining to do vocal gymnastics during his infamous between-song raps.

Perhaps what was most disappointing about the show was the band’s seemingly blatant display of insincerity.  Just before the climactic Rock & Roll All Nite, Stanley announced that they were willing to play all night, but would have to cut their set short because of Bristow, VA’s curfew law.  It was disappointing news to hear at the time because the audience would have liked the party to last longer. However, having seen the band’s set list from subsequent shows, it’s now apparent that the show was not cut short.  They play the same 13 songs every night…and Stanley uses the same “excuse” to explain away their short set.  In fact, it seems like a tacit admission that even they realize that true fans are going to feel a bit short-changed. 

Hey, Paul.  Why not just say good night, and not make it seem like you were going to play more songs, but Johnny Law wouldn’t let you?

Stanley may not be lying, but he does seem a bit disingenuous.

I realize that I sound like an insatiable, spoiled child.  Did KISS put on an elaborate show?  Yes.  Did they play big hits?  Yes.  Did I have a good time?  Absolutely!    However, for the nearly four decades that KISS has been playing, they’ve set their own bar – and the bar of others – so high, that anything short of the moon seems like a letdown.  With Motley Crue reaching and surpassing that same bar, KISS just seemed a slight bit underwhelming and as if they were going through the motions.

Postscript:  Check out the YouTube clips of KISS at their backstage meet-and-greets.  For the lucky few who’ve paid hundreds of dollars for the privilege of an audience with the Pope – er, I mean, KISS – the band plays an unmasked mini-semi-acoustic set of KISS classics.  Perhaps if they’d incorporated those songs into their official set…

Hurricane Nikka Funks Up The Hamilton

When I mentioned to a number of people that I was going to see Nikka Costa at The Hamilton in DC, I got the exact same response..."Nikka, Who?" (ironically, an actual Nikka Costa song title)

With the likes of Katy Perry, Rihanna, and whomever the latest Disney Channel alum is littering the Top 10, it’s expected that the average person wouldn’t know Nikka Costa. They should.

I made the mistake of explaining to these same people that “Nikka is sort of the female equivalent of Lenny Kravitz.” 

The Kravitz comparison is selling Costa short. A better description might be: Walk into your Rock & Roll Kitchen and throw the aforementioned Mr. Kravitz, Sly Stone, Prince, James Brown, Janis Joplin, Tina Turner, and a dash of ‘70s vintage Robert Plant and Mick Jagger all into one sexy-ass cauldron and what would you get? Honeybabysweetiedoll – Nikka Costa!

Backed by a five-piece band, Hurricane Nikka roared onstage in a blur of hair, double-sided tape, disco-era gold lamé pants, knee-high boots, and moves worthy of the Soul Train Dance Line to a cover of Sly’s Dance To The Music. The funk pace rarely dissipated as she ran through hits as well as lesser known songs ranging from Like A Feather to Keep Pushin’ to Everybody Got Their Something to Nylon’s In A Rip to Loving You to Head First. Straying from previous tours, this time around, Costa eschewed the rock of numbers like On And On in favor of single-minded funk.

                         (Live at The Hamilton DC, May 27, 2012)

Coming to this show on the heels of a number of arena shows, I was absolutely steamrolled by the explosive energy onstage just 15 feet away. This wasn’t arena-rock posturing. This wasn’t pseudo-funk by virtue of a calculated minor-seventh chord. There wasn’t any question of whether that’s really her voice, or if they’re using backing tracks. This was funk, this was rock & roll the way it was meant to be played.

If you come to a Nikka Costa party, you better be ready to party. Costa made it clear very early on in the set that if you were the DC douchebag or baguette who was going to spend the entire evening ignoring the music but texting your friends about what a great time you were having, you were going to get called out individually. Call them out, she did. Costa made sure the groove was not confined to the stage, as she demanded that the dinner theater audience participate in the full-contact funk.

To talk about this show and not mention Costa’s band would be criminal. This band unabashedly channels The Family Stone and The Godfather of Soul’s JBs – and succeeds. Most notable was trombonist Elizabeth Lea – Maceo Parker would be proud.

If you ever get the chance, experience Nikka Costa…and leave your cell phone at home (trust me, you’re not that important!).

Give I’rrr Away, Give I’rrr Away, Give I’rrr Away Now

Twenty-eight years ago, if you saw a little band called Red Hot Chili Peppers at a club on the Sunset Strip, could you have guessed what they might be like three decades later?   In a word, NO.

At the Verizon Center on May 10, gone were displays of sock couture, drugs, off-key rap/singing, and sub-par P-Funk rip-offs. Instead, RHCP showed how they have evolved into Rock & Roll Hall of Fame inductees who specialize in concise, catchy pop/rock songs; super-tight performances and displays of big-production Arena Rock; and boast a multi-generational audience.  

Unlike most bands of their vintage, RHCPs have deftly managed to avoid being relegated to a certain timeframe or genre of music. This transcendence is most obvious in the fact that new songs were greeted with the same enthusiasm and familiarity as the classic cuts. No one made a b-line to the hot dog or beer stands when they dared to play five songs off their new album. In fact, with the exception of the Stevie Wonder cover Higher Ground, their setlist comprised only songs post-Mother’s Milk. Let’s be honest, it was only beginning with Blood Sugar Sex Magick that the band hit their true stride, both in terms of songwriting and vocals (translation: Anthony Kiedis began singing in key). So it’s no surprise that the band chose wisely to ignore their older material. The audience certainly didn’t seem to mind.

               Red Hot Chili Peppers, Verizon Center, May 10, 2012

The band’s performance was flawless. While even the best of singers seem to lose the vocal fire they had in their youth, Anthony’s vocals seem to have an inverted trajectory - he sounds better now than he’s ever sounded before. Flea and Chad Smith are, hands-down, the best rhythm section in rock, and were also the obvious stars of the show. Their numerous instrumental jams peppered throughout the show were brazen displays of funk-driven virtuosity. New guitarist Josh Klinghoffer ably held his own, both on tracks from their latest, I’m With You, as well as on the more technically- and idiosyncratically-challenging John Frusciante guitar parts. Klinghoffer’s only challenge seemed to be with his guitar sound. Perhaps it was the result of where I was sitting or maybe just acoustic problems inherent in a cavernous hockey arena, but his guitars often seemed to get lost against the mix of the rhythm section. Nevertheless, augmented by a keyboardist and percussionist, the band sounded as fully-realized as they do on their Rick Rubin-produced albums. 

Physically, like most bands that still record and tour 30 years on, RHCP seem perpetually young. They’re still closer to their youthful Simpsons cartoon incarnation, than a group in which three-fourths of the members turn 50 years old this year. Anthony still resembles a young, better-looking Iggy Pop…albeit, with a disturbing mustache and a Kate Gosselin-meets-Hitler haircut. Flea still retains the appearance and physique of Sting’s uglier younger brother, and Chad Smith – recently, of Chickenfoot fame – still remains Will Ferrell’s doppelganger.

…So with the compliments out of the way…

As good as the band was technically, there was just an ever-so-mild sense of super-professionalism, over-rehearsal, and perfection at the expense of fun and feel. In particular, Anthony seemed to exude this vibe. It didn’t help that his banter with the audience was minimal. He seemed to show up, perform his job to perfection, and exit the stage quietly without fanfare before the final jam of the night.  

Next time, perhaps just a bit more cartoonish fun, Anthony?…

Van Halen = Smiles + Enjoyment

If smiling is the barometer for enjoyment, then Van Halen’s recent show at DC’s Verizon Center was pure joy.


Whereas their 2007/2008 reunion tour with David Lee Roth had an odd aura of fragile euphoria, this time around it seemed like a reunion with durable, old friends. If there is one factor that makes this go-round feel more comfortable, it’s Eddie Van Halen. Gone is the “fresh from rehab,” but still walking a tightrope vibe, and in its place is a healthy and genuinely happy seeming Van Halen. Having seen Van Halen on every tour since 1986 (well, I did skip the Gary Cherone tour to nowhere…), what was blatantly obvious almost from the opening number – Unchained – was that this was Ed Van Halen at his all-time best. The man was simply on fire (hey, that was a pun!).

Drummer Alex Van Halen was predictably solid and played with his now almost expected thunderous precision. Wolf Van Halen seemed far more comfortable both on bass and background vocals. Unless you’re still sulking that this isn’t really a reunion because Michael Anthony isn’t in the band, you won’t even miss him. Anthony’s most valuable contribution to Van Halen was always his stellar background harmonies, but Wolf and his dad made up for it as they’ve obviously been practicing. Also obvious was that Michael Anthony secretly toured with Van Halen on the last tour…at least his vocals did…

            (Panama - Verizon Center, Washington, DC - March 28, 2012)

The show’s set list was a good mix of material from their first six albums including most of the essential tracks you’d want to hear, as well as some surprise “deep cuts” like Hang ‘Em High, The Full Bug, and Women In Love. Their new album A Different Kind Of Truth also had fair representation with four tracks. If I had to nit-pick their set list, I just wished they played more songs from Fair Warning, my favorite Van Halen album. As for Eddie’s late-set guitar solo, it was a tour de force of everything you’d expect from him all played with maniacal finesse. However, after 20-plus years of playing the same solo night after night – excerpts of Eruption, Spanish Fly, and Cathedral – it might be nice to hear Ed change things up a bit and improvise more. Again, this is all nit-picking perfection.

...and then there’s Diamond Dave…Live in front of your naked, steaming eyes, the man is everything you’d expect and more. The flashiness, swagger, Joker’s grin, irony in spades, and Hong Kong Fooey kicks are all still perfectly intact and present. To anyone in the audience who walked away from this show saying that Dave’s vocals aren’t what they used to be, I say, “You never heard his voice back in the day.” Dave sounded exactly as you’d expect him to sound – a unique mix of vaudeville, rock god, and calculated “I forgot the fucking words.”

If smiling is the barometer for enjoyment, then I walked out of this concert with a permanent-press Muppet grin on my face.

Paul Stanley: You Haven't Aged A Bit Since 1974

At the age of ten, I walked into the green shag-carpeted family room of my best friend and flipped through his record collection.  Walt Disney soundtracks, Sesame Street Disco, Village People, and - what the hell was this? 

The album that caught my eye was emblazoned with a red and blue, stylized double lightning bolt S logo and four small pictures of what looked to my sensibilities at the time as comic book characters.  I turned the album around to see the back cover which had the same pictures, only bigger.  There was a pretty man who could very well have been a woman superhero, a cat guy, a spaceman, and a nightmarish sweaty creature with bloody dripping from his mouth and smeared across his face as if he might even be bleeding from his eyes.  I immediately opened the double album to reveal the centerfold - the same four characters on a multi-level Dante's Inferno-motif stage that was consumed with sparks and mushroom clouds of fire.  I was transfixed, fascinated, obsessed, possessed....I hypnotically asked my buddy to put the record on..."YOU WANTED THE BEST, YOU GOT THE BEST...."

To say that my life changed at that moment may seem like hyperbole, but that afternoon during my summer vacation between the fifth and sixth grade was the pivotal moment when I went from being a little kid who listened to music that my Top 40-loving mom liked to an independent-thinking big kid who inadvertently got a taste of something new...rebellion and possibility - and I loved it.

I listened to the songs on the album obsessively and repeatedly.  I learned every single word.  King of the Nighttime World.  Calling Dr. Love.  Ladies Room.  Love Gun.  Rocket Ride.  I had no idea what their lyrics actually meant, but that wasn't important.  I suddenly wanted to read everything I could about these guys, find out when they would next appear on TV, and plot how I would one day talk my parents into letting me see them in concert.

I didn't just want to follow them.  I wanted to be them.  I couldn't look like them because...well, my parents weren't going to tolerate that (although I was the Spaceman a year later for Halloween).  So I asked them for a guitar the following Christmas.  The moment I strapped the guitar around my neck, I wanted one more thing those guys had on the cover of Love Gun...

...A bevy of worshiping, hot, semi-naked women at their feet.  Suddenly, the girl who lived across the street from me..."looked good.  She looked Hotter Than Hell"...


In the ensuing three decades, the music of this band has played in my head like a soundtrack on an endless loop, and motivated me to live out my own rock and roll fantasy - not just in my pursuit of music, but in life, in general...and that grand sense of possibility.

Happy 60th birthday, Paul Stanley!

First to Review New Springsteen (Without Bothering To Hear It)

The Greatest Springsteen Album Since His Last Greatest Album

I wanted RTunes68 to be the first blog to review the upcoming Bruce Springsteen album Wrecking Ball.  So here it is:

The Boss returns with the greatest rock album since....well, his last greatest rock album.  Bruce really speaks to the everyday man - his concerns, his plight - and...speaks truth to power!  The album is breathtaking, lyrically and musically.  I would bestow the monicker "Bob Dylan" on Bruce if there weren't already a Bob Dylan - that's how brilliant The Boss is.

If there were a Rock And Roll Hall of Fame for members of the Rock And Roll Hall of Fame, Bruce should be inducted now.

I speak for all music critics when I say that our only complaint about Springsteen is that he's too great.

(...See, I've just made all the reviews that surely will inundate the media in the weeks ahead entirely redundant.)

The Girl With The Immigrant Song Tattooed In Her Head

Whenever I hear that someone has covered a Led Zeppelin song, I reflexively cringe.  I've heard many a cover rendered by everyone from nameless bar bands to established stadium-filling mega-artists and almost every one of them falls horribly short of the original.  To paraphrase Robert Plant from Song Remains The Same, "Does anybody remember laughter?" 

Does anybody remember Encomium?  If that officially-sanctioned tribute album proved anything, it was that encomium could be paid to Led Zeppelin, but no one can duplicate or surpass the original...

...Enter Trent Reznor, Atticus Ross, and Karen O....

If anyone had a snowball's chance in Valhalla (does that even make sense?) of doing the Immigrant Song justice, it would have to be someone who approached it over, under, sideways, down.  That's exactly what Reznor, Ross, and O have done.  Rather than replicating the obvious - mimicking Plant's banshee falsetto wails or Jimmy Page's driving guitar riff or John Bonham's trademark drum sound - Reznor, Ross, and O make the song almost a new creation entirely.  All that's left of the original is the pummeling feel - with the drums playing what used to be the guitar riff - and Viking lyrics.

The result is debauched, almost-human, industrial-techno, calculated mayhem that's as dark, stark, and ominous as a girl with a dragon tattoo in the icy-cold winters of Sweden...

Enough with the verbose encomium, check out the song! 

                                                    ©2011 Sony Pictures

The Soundtrack To Your Next Soul Train House Party

                                               Black And White America

                                           (© 2011 Roadrunner Records)

“The future looks as though it has come around

And maybe we have finally found our common ground”

  

The line from the opening, title track to Lenny Kravitz’s latest album Black And White America seems to be the manifesto for all that follows. This album could very well have come out in 1978, and yet it sounds every bit 2012, musically and rhetorically. He touches on race in an optimistic way, and rides the “love, peace, and SOUL” train with all the authority and cool of Don Cornelius.

That Kravitz worships at the altar of James Brown, Sly Stone, Curtis Mayfield, Jimi Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, Jackson 5/Off the Wall-era Michael Jackson, and Prince is not news. Fact is, aside from the sporadic output of The Purple One, no one but Kravitz makes this sort of music anymore so consistently and so well. So appreciate it for all its rock-star-soul-brother-spaceman splendor.

Black And White America is Kravitz’s most focused, best written, and f-f-f-funkiest effort since 1998’s 5. There is very little fat or filler in this 17-track album. When there is, as when he treads dangerously in the Whitney Houston, Michael Jackson I-believe-the-children-are-our-future waters of The Faith of a Child or Dream, you almost want to excuse him because he does it in such earnest…but let’s not. To the unforgiving, cynical ear, the two aforementioned tracks are the only things getting in the way of making this album flawless.

Highlights:

• Black And White America – the funky opening version and the acoustic b-side are an insight into songwriting.
• Come On And Get It – what if Zeppelin, Hendrix, Sly, Super Fly, JB, Prince, and hot girls got in a room together?
• Liquid Jesus – Maxwell, you ain’t the king of Mr. Lova’ Man music.
• Rock Star City Life – this should be the theme for Victoria’s Secret’s next ad and runway campaigns.
• Boongie Drop – close your eyes and you’re in a sweaty Kingston dance hall, as Jay-Z drops by to say “I make that pussy speak patois like Petra, remember hah?”
• Stand – a brilliant theft of Three Dog Night’s Nights in Shambala.
• SuperLove – Eh, Maxwell.  It might be time to call it a night.
• War – a track worthy of Michael Jackson at his Off the Wall finest.

Beady Eye : Tonight, I'm A Rock And Roll Star

The term “rock star” is overused.  Everyone from your mom to your khaki-wearing, overfed and aging frat boy co-worker uses the term.  Everyone with even the slightest bit of proficiency at whatever it is they do has the term cast upon them now like some sort of honorary title.

If you use or go by the term, stop it!  Unless you’re a musician who channels the swagger of Rock Gods – and you know who they are – you are not a “rock star.”  In fact, most musicians post-Kurt Cobain are either purposely not rock stars, or are simply incapable of being rock stars.  This means that Mumford & Sons are not rock stars.  Gwyneth Paltrow’s husband is not a rock star.    

                                   (Four Letter Word - Manchester Apollo)

In this landscape devoid of rock stars, Liam Gallagher is a rock star. 

No further proof of this was needed than seeing the swaggering manner in which Liam and his new six-piece band Beady Eye took to the stage at DC’s 9:30 Club last night.  Entering to a film-projected backdrop of the band’s logo and the trippy instrumental soundtrack of Yellow Tail, the band launched into Four Letter Word, the raucous and slightly ominous opening track from their debut album Different Gear, Still Speeding.  Wearing an olive-green overcoat and scarf from his own Pretty Green fashion line, Liam seemed coolly aloof to the fact that part way through the show, he’d sweat through his coat.  Not to worry, he had a stack of pearly-white beach towels stacked next to the drum riser.  Rock stars are supposed to sweat.  The rest of the band looked every bit the proverbial rock stars as well, as they were all decidedly Mod-era Rolling Stones circa 1966.  Guitarist Gem Archer even resembled Rubber Soul/Revolver-era McCartney.  How appropriate that on this night – the 31^st anniversary of John Lennon’s death – the band would play Beatles and Stones as the third song in the set.

In classic Liam fashion, there was very little between-song banter.  There were no explanations of what song they would play next or its greater meaning.  There were no political messages.  There were no canned “We love you, DC” or “We were walking down…U STREET” or lyrical adjustments like “Champagne Super DC.”  Banter was limited to “Good Evening,” “Thank You,” and the occasional unintelligible Mancunian acknowledgement or comment about something Liam saw in the crowd.  There were also a lot of surly football hooligan poses and gestures.  Sure, Liam Gallagher is still a cartoon character…but an impossibly cool one.

  

During the band’s 17-song, hour and fifteen-minute set, they played all but one song – Wind Up Dream - from their album (not sure why it was left off, considering it’s such a swingin’, ‘60s-go-go-girl-doing-the-hippy-hippy-shake sort of tune).  The song-appropriate lighting and film projections throughout the show added to the overall T-Rex-meets-‘90s-Brit-Pop vibe of the band as well. 

….And now come the two 5,000-pound gorillas casting a 50-foot shadow in the room…Noel Gallagher and Oasis.  Was big brother Noel missed?  Honestly, no.  Certainly, his influence was loud and clear and undeniable in Beady Eye’s more pop-friendly numbers like The Roller and The Beat Goes On.  However, the band also seemed to swing and rollick more than they did when Noel was at the helm in songs like Bring The Light and Three Ring Circus.  As for the ghost of Oasis, sure, it might’ve been nostalgically cool if the band played Rock and Roll Star or Supersonic or even Champagne Supernova, but this is a new band – albeit, Oasis minus one – and you certainly can’t fault them for wanting to create a separate identity. 

With those two bits of business out of the way, Beady Eye is a solid rock band – and a damn good live one at that.  The only reason they are not huge stateside is because of the corporate monopoly that limits and strangles American radio – or whatever’s left of it. 

I imagine Cartoon Liam would say, “Ya, fook tha ray-d-o.  Beady Eye’s a fookin’ great ban’, mate.  The alboom’s fookin’ great too, innit?  So fookin’ che’ em out!”

I don’t disagree.  

Syd Barrett of the Alternative Generation



Evan Dando, 2011

It was good to see Evan Dando and his current lineup of
The Lemonheads at DC’s Black Cat on October 7 – much in the same way it feels to see an old, wayward friend.  The easy comment would be to note that despite the years of alleged drug use, Dando’s cover-boy looks and goofy slacker charm remain timelessly intact.  What’s more noteworthy is that, with the passage of time and the benefit and luxury of perspective, it’s become apparent that his deceptively simple-sounding songwriting masks a poignancy, fragility, and sheer pop bliss that should put him in the league with other rock eccentrics.  

If Kurt Cobain was supposedly the Voice of the Alternative Generation, then Evan Dando is Syd Barrett of the Alternative Generation - only Dando still makes vital, idiosyncratic music.  

                Evan Dando & Juliana Hatfield, 2011 - "Into Your Arms"

Dando flirted with achieving critical mass – even voted as one of People’s “50 Most Beautiful People in 1993” – and had a highly acclaimed album and a mainstream follow-up with It’s A Shame About Ray and Come On Feel The Lemonheads, respectively.  Yet at the very moment when the big ol’ jet airliner of super-stardom should’ve skyrocketed The Lemonheads into becoming a household name, Dando instead sputtered into a seemingly permanent self-imposed exile in the fringes.     

Perhaps that’s exactly where Dando’s music deserves to be – on the fringes.  If you want it, you should seek it out.  It shouldn’t be so mainstream in its availability that undeserving consumers will latch onto the one song they’ve heard on the radio, and then move on to the next hit.  I’ve never been a musical elitist.  Yet there’s something so artistically…special…about Dando’s music that you almost want to keep it to yourself and a select group of appreciative friends.      

The Lemonheads’ show was exactly that – a gathering of people who appreciate Dando’s songwriting, and who sought him out.  The few others in the audience were obvious in their obnoxious shouts throughout the show of “Play Into Your Arms!”…even after they played the song.

In addition to playing the entire It’s A Shame About Ray album, the band ran through a number of their other more well-known as well as lesser-known songs.  The band was super-tight in its precision, yet there was just enough of loopiness and sense of “we’re winging it” from Dando that it all felt very spontaneous – as if you were watching them rehearse.  The highlight of the set was Dando playing unaccompanied.  Watching him play solo, you can draw the line from Brian Wilson to Syd Barrett to Gram Parsons to Evan Dando.  It was then that all the aforementioned poignancy, fragility, and special-ness really came front and center.

Despite my earlier comments about wanting to keep The Lemonheads a musical secret, I highly recommend that everyone seek out their shows.  Evan Dando is a unique talent who people should be aware is still playing special music.

"I'm With You" Once Again, Red Hot Chili Peppers!

Red Hot Chili Peppers:  Version 2011



If you've liked the musical trajectory of the Red Hot Chili Peppers during the past decade, you will absolutely dig their new album I'm With You.  The fact that they've managed to continue unscathed musically - despite the departure of John Frusciante - speaks volumes about the musicianship of new guitarist Josh Klinghoffer.  As Flea has stated in numerous recent interviews, Klinghoffer may not be a virtuoso/savant, but his unique thumbprint on this album is undeniable.  

The difference between Frusciante and Klinghoffer is that while the former tended play deceptively technical and often linear guitar riffs, the latter is almost entirely textural.  If that sounds a bit music-geeky, perhaps it is.  However, one listen of I'm With You, and you'll at least instinctively understand the difference.

The last time Frusciante left the Chili Peppers, the band went with a replacement - Dave Navarro - who was even more of a riff-meister, and the resulting One Hot Minute was somewhat less than fitting for the band.  Seemingly, having learned from their previous misstep, this time the band has gone in the other more textural direction and the result is seamless - yet different.

With a different approach on guitar, it's blatantly obvious within seconds of the album's opening track "Monarchy of Roses" that the musical heart - and to a large extent, the star - of this band is Flea.  The fact that Chad Smith, of Chickenfoot fame (I had to say that!), is so innately in snyc with Flea makes them the best rhythm section in rock today - bar none.  Add to all this Anthony Kiedis, whose best investment ever was to take vocal lessons because, since Blood Sugar Sex Magik, he has gone from being perpetually half-step out of key (go back and listen to "Under The Bridge") to becoming an extremely soulful, unique, and listenable singer.   

                 ("The Adventures of Rain Dance Maggie" ©2011 - WMG)

I'm With You builds on the best elements of Californication, By The Way, and Stadium Arcadium - albeit without Arcadium's Physical Graffiti-esque heft - and throws in a heavy dose of slinky, disco funk.  In many of the songs, they also bridge the gap between pre- and post-Blood Sugar Sex Magik by switching off between pseudo-rapped verses and pop/arena rock choruses.  The result is a whole lot of infectious songs.

The early favorite for best song is "Did I Let You Know," a track that incorporates a syncopated bass and drums, be-boppy horns courtesy of Flea, steel drums, an over-the-top overdriven guitar solo, and the rhyme "cheeky" with..."Mozambique-y" as only Anthony Kiedis can deliver.  The track manages to cover Caribbean flavors, funk, disco, rock, and pop with a wacky audacity and self-assurance probably not heard since Led Zeppelin's "Fool in the Rain."

I'm With You only further proves the point of their last three albums - that this is a band at their absolute prime. 

A Song To Get Stuck In Your Head Today

Q:  What do you get when you mix a Marley, a Slumdog, a Eurythmic, a crazy-hot chick with a voice to match, and a Jurassic lizard in a hot-pink suit? 

A:  The grooviest song of the summer of 2011. 

Enjoy!

                             ("Miracle Worker" ©2011 A&M Records)

U.S. Royalty Revive The Lost Art of Rock

U.S. Royalty

The Doors at the Whiskey A Go Go.  Aerosmith at Max's Kansas City.  The Ramones at CBGBs. The Strokes at Mercury Lounge.

If you attended U.S. Royalty's recent show at DC's 9:30 Club, you got the feeling that it might be one of those seminal gigs where a band and their audience were onto something that the rest of the world just hadn't caught up to...yet.      

What makes U.S. Royalty remarkable is their "old-school" approach to music - catchy-as-hell songs played with the intensity of a band with a point to prove - that rock and roll ain't dead!

To hear lead singer John Thornley discuss the band's deliberate approach to their music - both live and in the studio - it becomes obvious that U.S. Royalty's meticulously crafted songs and blistering live performances are no happy accident or fluke.   

                                                       ("Equestrian")

I purposely attended your recent 9:30 Club show without ever having heard a note of your music.  I didn’t want any preconceived notions or hype to cloud my impression.  What impressed me most was the band's effort to make it a Rock Show.  Compared to YouTube clips I've since seen of your earlier performances, there seems to be a progression in the “image and theatric” aspect of your shows.  Has your attention to the “show” been deliberate, or is it just a natural evolution?

I think it's a natural evolution.  Sure, we pay attention to it more, but because we are allowed the opportunity to.  The house shows, the small club shows, there's not a lot of control over the way you present yourself.  Not that bands can't set themselves apart in those arenas with imagery and such, but there are many factors that can make it derail and it becomes more of a distraction than an attraction.  So we opted to focus on becoming a tighter performing unit and on songwriting so that when the time comes for there to be more of a stage production, the harder parts of being a band are well practiced.  I think a lot of the parts of our "show" have always been what I envisioned in my head as what we would do, provided the chance to execute it properly.  This is just the beginning though, as we are taking more time in planning the stage production aspect of our shows.  We are a patient band.  There is a time for everything, we don't need to do everything at once.

Similarly, your songs take on a slightly harder, blues-ier edge live.  Is this an indication of the direction the band plans to explore in the future, or is it just the difference between studio and stage?

At this point it's the difference between studio and stage.  In the past we had people who wanted to record us and "capture the live sound" and we weren't really happy with the way it sounded.  So we went the opposite direction when doing Mirrors.  We said let's not make this how we sound live but rather a record someone could put on and listen to over and over because it sounds good.  So we focused on layers and parts and not so much a live and loud feel.   But we also took each song on its own terms and if it needed to be done live in a room with everyone sitting in, doing nine hours of takes until we got it, then that's what we did.  I think live shows for us though, will always be harder and bluesier because there's an energy that's there.  Maybe one day we'll capture that energy in the studio as well.  As for the future, the stuff we've been writing lately has been just as raw as "The Desert Won't Save You" to more droning and groove-oriented (songs).  As the months go by and we work through songs, we will see where we end up.

In an era when rock bands aren’t really the main focus of the few major record companies left, and at a time when even the few rock acts on these labels literally have one shot to score a huge hit right out of the box, what do you guys see as advantages to going the do-it-yourself route where someone like LA Reid isn’t breathing down your necks for Katy Perry-sized hits?

Mirrors was done with our own money and resources, so the only people breathing down our necks are the other guys in the band....whether it be to come up with songs, finish lyrics, write more parts, book shows, etc.  We all work to keep each other focused on the project we are trying to finish at the moment.  So I can't really speak from experience about being on a small or large label.


Esquire recently ranked you #35 (!!!) on their list of the 50 Most Fashionable Musicians.  You’re in the company of David Bowie, Bryan Ferry, Mick Jagger, and Miles Davis!  You’ve also been involved with Gant Rugger and American Eagle.  How did the rock-to-fashion crossover come about?  Did you court the fashion world, or did they just notice what snazzy dressers you guys are and decide they needed to get with you? 

I think it just came about from being in and around NYC for the past few years and continually playing shows in all sorts of venues.  Some people from Gant had seen us at a show and  asked to use a song for their campaign.  That was the start of it all and now other people in the fashion industry continue to come to us.  We have never approached anyone to include us in their campaigns or shoots.  It seems to happen naturally.

What are your plans – albums, national or international tours, more forays into fashion, endorsements – for the immediate future?

We will be playing Midpoint Music Festival in Cincinatti, OH on Sept. 22nd.  We'll be doing other shows and such for the next few months.  In the meantime, we've been holed up in Potomac, MD writing and recording new material.  It's nice and quiet up there and it's close to Great Falls Park so we've been able to do some hiking.  Some of the new material we've been playing at gigs.  Right now, there are no set dates for any release of the stuff, just working on getting all the ideas down.  

Videos That Still Kill The Radio Star

This week being the 30th anniversary of MTV's premiere broadcast (you remember, that cable channel that used to play music videos), it seems like a good time to check out the best of the medium. These videos weren't just promotional music/film clips, they were artistic statements that captured the era in which they were created and also have managed to remain timeless.  Ironically, some of the most iconic videos pre-date MTV.

Note: the glaring omission of Duran Duran, Michael Jackson, Madonna, and Lady Gaga videos was intentional.

(Miles Davis/John Coltrane - "So What?" circa 1959 - © Sony Music)

            (Rolling Stones - "Jumpin' Jack Flash" - ©1968 Abko Music)

                                             (David Bowie - "Life On Mars" - © 1971 RCA)

               (Bryan Ferry - "Slave To Love" - ©1985 Virgin Records)

 (Fiona Apple - "Criminal" - © 1996 Sony Music)

                    (The Strokes - "Last Nite" - ©2001 BMG Music)

A Royal Return of the Rock Show

U.S. Royalty

The Washington Post Express described U.S. Royalty's music as “Zeppelin riffs, Stones swagger, and Fleetwood Mac pop.”  With hype like that, I decided to purposely check out U.S. Royalty at DC’s 9:30 Club without ever having seen or heard a note….

Unlike 98 percent of the bands that pass through 9:30 Club – or even most American rock bands, in general, post-1991 – U.S. Royalty seem to remember the importance of the Rock Show.  Where indie rock celebrates the “We’re just like our audience, only we play instruments, man” ethos, U.S. Royalty harken back to a time when there was a clear distinction between performer and audience...and perform, they did.  For the uninitiated, their live image is a combination of The Faces, The Black Crowes, and The Strokes, with maybe a tip of the hat to vintage Guns & Roses.  Their live sound seems to incorporate all of the above bands and gives a few nods along the way to U2, the Killers, and lesser known ‘80s British pop bands like The Church.

              ("Hollywood Hollows")
     
Having since gone back and listened to their studio recordings, it’s obvious that U.S. Royalty are one of those rare bands who are actually better live.  In fact, they are almost a bit schizophrenic, as they go from super-polished in the studio to a preening, rollicking rock band onstage.  The band’s studio version of “Monte Carlo,” which is very reminiscent of Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams,” is transformed live, as it sounds like it was shot out of a cannon from 1970s Laurel Canyon into the pop-rock-you-wish-there-were-more-of stratosphere with the addition of rapper Phil Ade.  Judging from his onstage exuberance and the audience’s reaction, Ade came dangerously close to stealing an already great show. 



        ("Monte Carlo" - Before)

                                                                     ("Monte Carlo" - After)

                                                                                               
The Express’ comparison of U.S. Royalty to Zeppelin, the Stones, or Fleetwood Mac is a lowest-common denominator review.  In fact, I hear no Zeppelin connection – live or in the studio.  As for the Stones, again, in the studio, I hear no resemblance, although live, they do share a ‘70s-era swaggering fashion sense, complete with glitter shirts, fur stoles, leather fringe, skinny jeans, and lizard boots.  Certainly, there is a strong Fleetwood Mac undertone in the band’s studio work, but onstage, U.S. Royalty take on a unique life of their own – even as they cover Stevie Nicks' "Wild Heart."  

Perhaps the best gauge of success for a band is whether they can win over a live audience.  The 9:30 Club crowd was about 50 percent girls who were probably there on the basis of hearing “Equestrian” on American Eagle commercials.  As for the guys, it was a vast sea of pastel dress shirts (most probably worn to work earlier in the day), khaki shorts, and flip-flops.  I’m assuming they came to the show because the chicks they’re diggin’ wanted to go.  When the band first took the stage, there was a noticeable look en masse of surprise, amusement, horror, and “what kind of band is this, anyway?”  However, in very short order, U.S. Royalty turned the seemingly Jack Johnson/Dave Matthews-friendly audience into fans of the Rock Show.  

La Moda de Paz de la Huerta

Sixteen gratuitous seconds of commercialism, fashion, photography, art, music...and, oh yeah, Paz de la Huerta!...