Black Sabbath was not as adept at gentle introspection as some of their 70′s era contemporaries. The band was always at their best when Tony Iommi’s amps were cranked, Geezer Butler was locked into Bill Ward’s bass drum kick and Ozzy’s coke was straight out of Colombia. Compared to other groups from that time, Sabbath were die-hard minimalists, obeying their obsession with the riff to the exclusion of wild experimentalism.
“Laguna Sunrise’ feels different not only from other songs on Vol. 4, but from much of Sabbath’s catalogue. The mellotron building behind Iommi’s two simple but effective acoustic guitar lines is surprisingly pretty. When the boys got off the beaten path, their oddball stuff could be very cool.
Beyond the artistic merits, the song just reminds me of summer. With the warm weather upon us, ‘Laguna Sunrise’ feels appropriate. Enjoy.
I present you with the first single off Torche’s latest disc Harmonicraft.
No metal band should be able to make music this pretty. Yet somehow, Torche manages to do it on nearly every disc. Amazing.
I’ll do a review of Harmonicraft in a few days, but my initial impressions are good. The interplay between Steve Brooks and new lead guitarist Andrew Elstner is cool. More imp0rtantly, the heavy and the melodic is in almost perfect balance.
The hip hop star, also known as MCA, passed away this morning after a long battle with cancer.
He is survived by his wife Dechen and his 14-year-old daughter, Tenzin Losel Yauch.
His publicist released a statement confirming the news this afternoon which read: ‘It is with great sadness that we confirm that musician, rapper, activist and director Adam ‘MCA’ Yauch … passed away in his native New York City this morning after a near-three-year battle with cancer.’
Yauch revealed in 2009 that he was undergoing surgery and radiation therapy to treat a tumor in his salivary gland.
RIP.
Wanna know why the Beastie Boys were a great band? Here’s an example.
Hypocritical parents, mean-ass teachers and just plain old lame people are the punchline here. Its this kind of goofball energy that makes ‘Party’ one of the greatest teenager anthems ever written. As terrific as it is, the best part about the song isn’t what the guys are talking about. It’s what they’re not talking about that makes it awesome.
Specifically, the Beasties aren’t obsessed with cash money, big pimpin’, flossin’ their ice or pushing weight out on the corner. Nor are they lamenting their (imaginary) hard knock life in the hood. Instead, they’re using rap as a platform to talk about something near and dear to their hearts–in this case, partying.
What the Beastie Boys understood very early on is that white musicians can use hip-hop to express themselves as long as they don’t simply copycat the material of black rappers. This is a lesson too many Caucasian wannabe hippity-hoppers adamantly refused to learn. Snow, Vanilla Ice and Marky Mark were rightly seen as imitative losers looking to make a quick buck without really understanding the style they were biting. It took Eminem’s The Slim Shady LP, released thirteen years after the Beasties first appeared on the music scene, for another white rapper to successfully and seamlessly blend the sonic and lyrical trappings of hip-hop with his own personal subject matter.
For the Beasties, the easy part was making a great first rap album. The tough part was putting together a second disc that surpassed the debut. Where Licensed To Ill was a reflection of producer Rick Rubin’s heavy metal preoccupations, Paul’s Boutique was a sonic amalgamation of rubbery funk basslines, classic rock radio riffs, the finest Southern California weed available and any wacked-out sample that could be procured. The resulting album was considered a flop at the time, but has aged to become a cornerstone of old skool rap. If there was any thought that the Beastie Boys were a novelty act, Paul’s Boutique put that notion to bed.
After that, the Boys just kept pressing ahead. During the early 90′s, the rap trio got back to their punk roots and recorded an album as a three-piece band. Amazingly, they did this while still retaining a strong hip-hop sensibility. Records like Check Your Head were marked by experimental ideas and appealing pop singles sitting comfortably together on the same disc.
The other neat feat pulled off by the Beasties was to age as gracefully as possible in a musical genre obsessed with finding the next new thing. If you were to look back on the group’s discography, it’s hard to find many moments where they consciously tried to jump on the latest hip-hop fads. Instead, they basically let their muse take them where it led them. That could mean making an extended shout-out to Buddhist teachings. Or it could mean filming a parody of cheeseball 70′s cop shows.
Throughout almost their entire career, the Beasties understood their own absurdity. Were three Jewish kids from New York supposed to become world famous rappers? Not really, but somehow they made it happen. Because they didn’t seem to take themselves too seriously, the band could get away with all sorts of transgressions against the hip-hop genre, even as seemingly every other major rap artist was adopting a ghetto-centric humorless demeanor.
As great as the band was, they were not perfect. After Paul’s Boutique, the group couldn’t seem to make a concise record. The albums kept getting longer and more sprawling, making the discs uneven and unfocused. Had they been able to edit themselves, their terrific body of work might’ve reached legendary status.
While the band generally had a good sense of humor, as time went on it seemed like the boys succumbed to the comedian’s worst temptation. Instead of being funny, they sought validation from their peers. That led them to stop performing much of their raunchier material or lamely editing their lyrics for ‘adult’ consumption. For a band who once toured with a 20 foot blow-up dick, the idea of Beastie Boys becoming politically correct was rather deflating.
Having said all that, it’s possible to critique the Beastie Boys while acknowledging their massive presence in modern pop music. They were innovators. In a style of music full of limp imitators, over-hyped pretenders and shameless thieves, the group hewed to it’s own path. As unlikely as it might’ve seemed in 1986, that determination ultimately helped changed the modern music scene.
How does the loss of Adam Yauch affect the future of the group? Each member played an integral role in the rhymes, beats and visual presentation of Beastie Boys. If Mike D was the 12 year old playing with matches and Ad-Rock was the 15 year old who couldn’t stop oggling girls, then MCA was the 18 year old headbanger with a fake ID who bought the booze and the smokes to the party. Unlike the other two Boys, who really did sound like 8th graders, Yauch’s delivery was a sarcastic gravel-throated adult’s voice. His passing leaves a massive hole in one of the most successful rap groups of all time. It’s a void that I don’t know can ever be filled.
Canadian Conservative–wait, they exist?–Kathy Shaidle has been having fun goading Robert Stacy McCain with her latest post over at PJ Media. She believes that The Who is the best rock band ever. RSM asserts that Led Zeppelin should hold that title. He’s right of course, but just for shits and giggles let us take a gander at The Beatles.
Here the Beatles give you deceptively simple guitar lines, nicely done vocal harmonies and frill-free rhythms; a more graceful piece of pop-rock you will be hard-pressed to find.
Of all the recent arguments I’ve heard leveled at The Fab Four, the charge that they were a teenie-bopper band who grew into their artsy pretensions probably stings the most. At their essence John, Paul, George and Ringo were basically ‘N Sync Version 1.0. Most of the group’s output was non-threatening bubblegum pop aimed squarely at the pocketbooks of adolescent girls. Rather than dress like the tough rock-n-rollers they professed to be, their manager slapped the band into High Mod suits, thus making them more palatable for the impressionable youths in the audience.
Some of that is true.
Some of that is a particularly uncharitable reading of the history, but true enough.
What the Beatles-haters miss is that the group wrote most of its own material. Aside from a few covers, the boys were cranking out hit after hit after hit. The 90′s/00′s era boy bands were packaged creations of record companies and mega-hit producers. While the Beatles had a crafted image, they still created the songs that made the vast majority of American kids forget about Elvis Presley for most of the 1960′s.
Look, The Beatles were certainly capable of money-grubbing cynicism. John Lennon was a blundering leftist who thought giving money to the IRA was a brilliant idea. Paul McCartney has been a dippypriggishcelebutard for most of his post-Beatles career.
But none of that cancels out the massive sales and the huge cultural influence of The Beatles.
I know I’m going to catch some shit from the holier-than-thou muso nerd contingent, but I can’t help liking Godsmack.
Yes, their first album was basically an Alice in Chains tribute disc. I also get how a lot of their stuff might be a little testosterone’d up for many music listeners, like 95% of the female population of planet Earth. The band is so single-minded it might in fact be a single-celled organism. They also have the misfortune of often getting lumped into the hard rock hammerhead Shinedown/Theory of A Dead Man/Nickelback batch of groups.
Even with all that going against them, da ‘Smack ain’t all bad. “I Stand Alone”, with it’s hammering riff, pulls off the difficult feat of being fairly heavy and still tuneful at the same time. The terse simplicity of “Keep Away” is a blueprint that a lot of bands have nicked over the years. Even though “Awake” is over a decade old, it remains the group’s striding declaration of intent. For all their lack of guile, they’re a band that understands itself and what it wants to do–crank out decidedly hipster-unfriendly unapologetic stadium metal–then goes out and does just that. Vocalist and band leader Sully Erna, an oddly successful amalgam of James Hetfield, Eddie Vedder and a 60′s-era Hell’s Angel soldier, knows his audience and gives them what they want with admirable regularity.
As for this cover, Godsmack takes a classic riff, drops the guitars down a few steps, shears off some of Walsh’s winking nuance and dials up the amps to the ‘Crush’ setting. While the tune sounds familiar, it still basically comes off as a Godsmack song. Overall, it’s a modern twist on an old favorite.
All is basically The Descendents without lead singer Milo Aukerman. The Descendents were a pretty big deal in the late 80′s alternative rock scene. The group had a Southern California hardcore feel, but unlike Black Flag or Bad Religion, the Descendents eschewed militant punker-than-thou sanctimony. Instead, the band wrote songs about girls, school and fishing, matching that subject matter with a poppy sound.
When Aukerman went to college full time, the other band members decided to keep playing. They then formed All, with various singers taking lead vocal responsibilities. While All never really caught fire, many bands took their musical formula and developed it. The late 90′s saw groups like Blink-182, Sum-41 and Green Day all mine the same vein of fast-paced pop-oriented punk that The Descendents and All had pioneered years before.
Nowadays a lot of that snot-punk stuff sounds really dated and lame. Green Day’s Billy Joe Armstrong wears guyliner and pushes left-wing talking points. Blink-182′s Tom DeLonge is a UFO true believer and doe-eyed Obama fanboy (but I repeat myself). That wave of bands just kinda collapsed under the weight of its own success and its too-big-for-it’s-britches pretensions.
To be fair, I was never a huge All or Descendents fan. But for a while in 1995, Pummel was getting serious airplay in my car CD player. Before all the other bands turned into douchey old farts, All was pretty rockin’ stuff. “Miranda”, with its crunchy guitars and wistful lyrics, hit all the right notes for me.
This comes to us from 30 years ago. You can tell because of the video quality, the fashions and Gregg Allman’s air of breezy intoxication.
I think Gregg was still very dependent on substances at this point. Dickey Betts, the dude in the sunglasses and cowboy hat absolutely slaying the goldtop Les Paul, was the de facto leader by ’82. I know a lot of people look at Duane Allman as the genius musician taken from us too soon, but that view tends to give short shrift to the masterful musicianship of Dickey Betts, who wrote many Allman Bros songs.
I’ve been playing a lot of softer stuff lately. Taking it easy ain’t the worst idea from time to time. On the other hand, here’s something with a little more oomph.
This tune is taken from The Sword’s “Gods of The Earth” disc that came out a few years back. The Sword has been a prominent component of the new stoner/doom metal scene that’s been bubbling up since Kyuss was making hazy jams out in the California desert back in the 90s. While a bit more accessible than groups like Electric Wizard and Cough, The Sword can pretty much jam with the best of them.
I also dig the concept of the video. It’s a very literal interpretation of the tune, which makes sense. The ‘maiden’ and ‘mother’ gals are not hard on the eyes at all. If every water bong enthusiast neo-hippie chick looked like these young ladies, I’d seriously consider living on a commune, quoting ’Siddhartha’ at inappropriate moments and smelling like week old hummus 24/7/365.
In any case, bravo to The Sword. If you wanna hear them rocking out even harder, there’s always this tune to satisfy your inner head-banging 15-year-old self.
Yeah, that was pretty cool. What’s even cooler is that awesome prayer put to an awesome song.
I should’ve known the Songify guys would put something awesome together for the best prayer ever. The cool part is how it’s not their usual house music or hip-hop style. Instead, they go country which is a nice surprise. The down-home banjo riff is rad.
Sing it with me, all ten BDKS readers: BOOGITY, BOOGITY, BOOGITY—-AMEN!
ALSO: Sorry for posting something that’s kinda old. In my defense, I only just knew about it a week ago or something. When I finally did hear the tune, I couldn’t get it out of my head for days. Total earworm.
The song is such a big beautiful piece of Americana hillbilly patriotism it’s hard not to like it, regardless of the inherent silliness.
Good bands make up their own songs. Great bands lift parts of other’s songs and make them their own. It’s a tale as old as time and the line between ‘tribute’ and ‘theft’ can get quite hazy.
For your amusement, here’s a 90′s grunge-rock classic. “Come As You Are” might be Nirvana’s greatest single piece of rock goodness. A memorable chorus, big energetic drums and a haunting guitar riff make a magical combination.
Rad song, right?
But it does sound kinda…hmmmm…oh, what’s the word…familiar.
England’s Killing Joke was a great band in the–you guessed it–eighties. Their early records were thrashy fast-paced punk, while their later material featured more textured pop-rock sensibilities. They were a major influence on many bands in both the metal and alternative scenes. “Eighties’ was a big hit for KJ in England and it even made a dent on the charts in the States.
When Killing Joke heard ‘Come As You Are’, there was serious talk of the band suing Nirvana because the rip-off was so egregious. While Kurt Cobain’s suicide put the kibosh on the lawsuit, there were some lingering hard feelings. That would be perfectly understandable, but is Killing Joke entirely innocent here?
Take a listen to this:
The Damned’s “Life Goes On” came out about two years before “Eighties”. The group was a very large presence in the late 70′s/early 80′s British punk movement. There is almost no way Killing Joke and The Damned didn’t know about each other. The two bands had more than a passing knowledge of each other’s material. Yet to this day, Killing Joke insist that the similarities between their tune and The Damned’s number are purely coincidental.
Now, I’m not bringing up twenty and thirty year old controversies just to dredge up long dead rock feuds. These are largely tempest in a teapot affairs, especially decades away from the initial events. Having said that, it’s interesting to hear people–especially young music fans–talk about how their favorite band is ‘…so original.’ Really? How original is it?
To be honest, I didn’t know that Nirvana ripped off Killing Joke who ripped off The Damned until a few years ago. When I was a young pup, I simply didn’t have the depth of knowledge to really see it. When “Come As You Are” first came out, I had no inkling of the song’s origins. I thought it was a cool tune. Which it still is.
So does this all mean that Killing Joke and Nirvana are plagiarists? Yes and no. Strictly speaking, they did rip off the work of previously recorded material and called it their own. But in from a broader perspective, the use of older songs as a starting point for bands and newer tunes has been going on for centuries, probably millennia.
As some old obscure book once opined, there is nothing new under the sun. If that’s the case, then we are all guilty of nicking somebody else’s labor in some minor way. What we should hope for in ourselves and encourage in others is not heavy-handed wholesale lifting of another’s work. Instead, we should strive to incorporate the old into newer contexts and forms.
Ehh, just some food for thought. It’s been something that’s been rattling around my noggin for a while. To be honest, I’m just waiting for the Breitbart folks to drop the next hammer on the lamestream media and President Obama (but I repeat myself).
The Cure was a little before my time, but in his book “Righteous Indignation” Andrew Breitbart said he loved these guys. Who the hell am I to argue with him?
And here’s another great tune, just because. Everybody knows this one but whatevs. The classics are classics for a reason.
I could never get into the Cure back in the day. They were the older kids’ kinda cool but sorta weird alternative band. Besides, I wanted to listen to Napalm Death and early Wu-Tang Clan, so my head was in a completely different place at that time. To be honest, the goth look always annoyed me as well. It’s only been in the last few years that I’ve been able to recognize the awesome songs under all that eyeliner and hairspray. Robert Smith might be exceedingly British, but you can’t front on his guitar playing. He was able to carve out such a distinct sound with just a down-tuned guitar and a couple effects pedals. Amazingly, really.
In any case, these tunes go out to Mr. Breitbart. As we speak, he’s probably launching his latest website BigAfterlife and getting the straight scoop on that whole birth of the universe thingie. Fare thee well, noble Andrew.
But we’ve never had presidents like The Presidents of The United States Of America. Three dudes who look like the assistant managers at the local Denny’s really shouldn’t be rock stars. Yet for a short time, they were.
Because, like the Red-Headed Stranger himself says, you never really outgrow Valentine’s Day.
It’s a deceptively simple tune. ”Valentine” is taken from Across the Borderline, which I suppose you could consider late-period Willie. At that point, Nelson had spent the last three years getting his assets seized by the IRS for failure to pay back taxes. I for one am shocked, shocked, that a famous bong-load proponent was less than studious about coughing up the cheddar to the gubmint [sarc/].
In any case, in 1993 Willie had basically gotten his fiscal house in order. Across the Borderline reflects an understandable sense of relief. His love for Paul Simon’s material is reflected in not one but two covers. Nelson’s version of John Hiatt’s “The Most Unoriginal Sin” finds Willie in an epic mood, with sweeping lyrics and a stately tempo that recall the Book of Genesis and a bawdy forbidden romance all at once.
For my money, “Valentine” is the best tune on the disc. The flamenco-flavored guitar lines move the listener far off into a dusky Texican vista. Nelson’s tenderness and plain-spoken delivery take what could’ve been a trite exercise and turn it into magic.
There are a million love songs. Most of them are clichéd. A lot of them are just lame. It’s a special tune that manages to capture the sweet innocence of a childhood love and the understanding that happens in an adult relationship. ”Valentine” nails it.
It can be argued that Whitney Houston was the most important vocal artist of the last 50 years. The woman sold something like 120 million albums worldwide. That doesn’t include her singles or her videos. Over one hundred twenty million records sold in a career that spanned just 24 years. From that perspective alone, her record is simply astounding.
Check out the breadth of her influence. How many singers have said they were inspired by Houston? Just about any pop vocalist you’ve listened to since the mid-80′s. Mary J. Blige, Christina Aguilera, Anita Baker, Celine Dion, Nelly Furtado, Mariah Carey and Jessica Simpson are just a few of the performers that have cited Whitney Houston as a career influence.
Most amazing is how her success changed the way popular music sounded. Houston’s naturally powerful soprano was augmented by gymnastic gospel-infused vocal runs that seemed effortless. Her mentor Clive Davis paired Whitney’s one in a billion voice with uptempo accessible numbers and expertly crafted ballads. The result was a seemingly never-ending stream of mega-platinum hits and rafts of weak imitators.
We don’t know just yet what took Whitney Houston away from this world, but we do know that her last few years have been marked by alcoholism and drug abuse. Addiction is always a tragedy. When someone as talented and blessed as Whitney Houston appears to have succumbed to substances, its a terrifying mystery. What kind of hole in Houston’s life could only be filled by drugs?
Ms. Houston leaves behind millions of adoring fans. And a daughter who appears to have difficulties of her own.
Congratulations go to the New York Football Giants, the 2012 world champions of football.
Question: Eli Manning has won two Super Bowls in the last five years. Is he an elite quarterback yet? People made fun of Manning when he said last summer that he was on a par with the great playcallers in the NFL. Well, the funny thing is that not too many quarterbacks playing right now have two Super Bowl rings. Tom Brady, Ben Roethlisberger and now Eli Manning; that’s it.
Doesn’t this win put Eli Manning in the elite of current NFL quarterbacks? If it doesn’t, what the hell does? Does homeboy have to win another championship? Does he have to get another Super Bowl MVP?
I realize that before this season Eli didn’t have ultra-gaudy regular season numbers. Peyton Manning, Aaron Rodgers, Drew Brees and–yes–Tom Brady all have more impressive regular season statistics. There have been times during his career when Eli has looked very average. While Manning has done well to cut down on his mistakes this season, it’s not like he never threw an interception or missed a receiver.
The thing is, when Manning has to get the job done in a pressure-filled moment in the game, he responds far more often than he doesn’t. He only threw about a thousand fourth quarter touchdowns this year. More importantly, both of his Super Bowl appearances have been marked by spectacular plays that facilitated a victory.
By any measure, Eli Manning is an elite quarterback. The way you know it is simple. If Eli retired right now with no other additions to his resume, he’d almost assuredly go into the NFL Hall of Fame. There’s a chance he’d get into the Hall on the first ballot. That’s how great Manning has been over the course of his career.
Ehhh, just some food for thought. In the end, the most important thing is that the G-Men came away with the victory. Congratulations to the world champion New York Giants.
I know there was probably a good deal of show prep that happened before the concert; sound checks, setting the stage, etc. Still, it looks like the boys just walked into the Royal Albert Hall off the street, strapped on their guitars and started to jam. Zep’s air of casual awesomeness–especially early in their run–is fairly amazing to modern eyes more used to big light shows, complex staging, massive video screens and a dozen costume changes in the course of a concert.
Led Zeppelin’s minimalist concert brings up a larger question: Could the greatest rock band that ever existed survive in a 21st century pop scene? I really don’t know. Zep’s constant experimentation and abiding interest in music outside the accepted rock-n-roll canon might make them a tough sell in today’s entertainment industry.
Beyond their musical diversity between songs, look at how Led Zeppelin changed over the course of their career. Their first disc, Led Zeppelin, which was released in 1969, is a heavy blues-centric workout. Ten years and seven albums later, In Through The Outdoor is a synthesizer-driven affair that shows a band that has abandoned traditional blues song structures in favor of dance-rock and avant-garde experimentation.
In between all that, Led Zeppelin’s sound would continuously change from record to record. Each full play effort was marked by a very different tone from the albums that came before and after it. Led Zeppelin III’s country and folk stylings felt quite a bit different than the thumping blues of Led Zeppelin II. 1975′s Physical Grafitti was a double album that swung from the keyboard grandeur of “In The Light” to the delicate acoustic fingerpicking of “Bron-Yr-Aur”. 1977′s Presence was Zep at it’s most single-mindedly rocked out, driven by hard electric guitars and heavy rhythms.
Would any major record label today accept a band that went through those kinds of mutations over the course of a decade? Even though music companies have grown less important over the last decade then they once were, the answer is probably not. At some point…probably right around the time the mandolins kick in on Led Zeppelin III…the record label’s A&R dude would go into vapor lock and the record would be shelved. The band would be told to rethink their priorities, get a pop-minded producer and make ‘Whole Lotta Love-The Sequel” for the next three records
More importantly than a music corporation’s behavior, would a modern band be able to survive the sort of creative contortions Led Zeppelin put themselves through? We don’t really have to speculate on that question. It’s pretty obvious that the vast majority of rock groups simply don’t attempt to push their musical boundaries all that much. For every Radiohead that has rearranged their sound over the course of their career, there are only about a thousand other bands that have pretty much stayed in the same general artistic space they occupied on their first albums.
I don’t know when it happened, but at some point bands started to recognize that they were also brands. Brands require consistency in order to be successful. McDonalds’ cannot go from selling cheap American-style fast food to gourmet $50 a plate Japanese-Mexican-Dutch fusion cuisine within a few years. Nobody would buy the change and McDonald’s would kill their company. The same process has changed the way rock music operates. Bands are very conscious of the creative space they occupy and hold to it.
It seemed that Led Zeppelin wasn’t all that worried about branding themselves, at least to the degree modern groups do. To be fair, Zep definitely created an image for themselves. Visually, they made certain to carve out a niche. One could consider these things examples of branding. But when it came to music, which is ultimately what a band is known for, the guys in Zep were unafraid to change things up when the mood suited them.
When discussing LZ, we can talk about the legendary three hour concerts, the cool album covers, the record sales and the mind-blowing music that has stood the test of time. But all of that great stuff ultimately is borne out of confidence. Zep’s strength to go against expectations and forge ahead with their singular artistic vision set them apart from many of their contemporaries. Amazingly, it also sets them apart from many bands today.
This is the latest single from British stoner metal band Orange Goblin.
Since they first started putting out music, I had more or less lumped them in with the Kyuss/Fu Manchu/Electric Wizard sludgy-doomy metal that’s been cooking since the early 90′s. As such, I hadn’t really listened to them all that much.
Then the other day, I was listening to the radio and this came on. I didn’t recognize the vocalist, but the thumpy rhythm and great riff caught my ear. I was kinda shocked when the DJ said it was an Orange Goblin tune. The whole sequence got me a-thinking.
Lots of rock fans–especially hipster scene scabs–sneer at anything played on the radio. It doesn’t matter if it’s the blandest of bland Top 40 stations or the most free-form college radio. For those types of music fans, if a song or a band has managed to get on the airwaves there must be something wrong.
I used to think the same way. Then I turned 19.
The truth is, radio can be incredibly lame. Too many stations are too locked into their narrow formats. Too many places on the dial are too wedded to their constrictive playlists. But I probably wouldn’t have heard “Red Tide Rising” if it hadn’t been for that radio station deciding to play that song. The station benefited, Orange Goblin benefited and so did I. Win-Win-Win.
In any case, this Orange Goblin ditty is the jam. Big drums and big guitars are always a winner. Add to that a cool 21st century take on Sabbathy sludge and you’ve got yourself magic.
Helmet is the brainchild of Page Hamilton. Originally a jazz guitar student, Hamilton stumbled on a distortion pedal sometime in the 80′s and it seems to have changed his life. For a time he was a member of the experimental New York City post-punk collective Band of Susans and he appeared on their Love Agendaalbum. That group’s use of feedback, repetition, noise and unconventional song structures rubbed off on Hamilton’s later work.
It wasn’t until Hamilton founded Helmet in the early 90′s that he found his signature sound. Rock journalist Greg Kot once described Helmet as ‘the death of melody’. That might’ve been an overstatement, but not by much. Hamilton’s use of the drop-D guitar tuning (sometimes drop-C) and his fondness for pummeling rhythms left little room for catchy sounds. Moreover Hamilton’s vocals, alternating between a guttural snarl and an Ozzy-like lament, contributed to the overall menacing vibe of the band.
For a time, Helmet loomed large on the heavy music scene. Pantera and Sepultura both nicked Helmet’s syncopated start-stop rhythm style. Bands like 311, Korn and Deftones tuned their snare drums very high, emulating Helmet drummer John Stanier’s Caribbean-influenced tone. Given their outsized influence, it’s safe to say the nineties simply wouldn’t have been quite as heavy without Helmet.
Interestingly, while Helmet changed the sound of rock, they never really seemed to click with mainstream audiences. Hamilton’s single-minded focus on rhythm meant their wasn’t a lot of change between albums. Also, it’s not like Hamilton was writing pop songs. Helmet released singles like “Sinatra”, a slow burn punker-than-thou jazzbo number and “Unsung”, which was big on relentless hammering and easy on melodic hooks. Not exactly ear candy, even by premillennial metal standards
But even though the band never really took off, that doesn’t mean they aren’t cool. I dunno if Hamilton ever really wanted to be a pop sensation. It seems like Helmet was meant to reflect Hamilton’s focused musical vision. While I’m not in love with Helmet’s post-90′s work, they’re still great. Check it out.
I give you the enduring genius of Frank Beard, Dusty Hill and Billy Gibbons.
Why do I bring this up?
Well, because I saw that little ol’ band from Texas just last week.
First, let me just say that the New Jersey Performing Arts Center is a great place to see a show. Newark has a fearsome reputation for crime-ridden urban blight–with good reason–but sitting in the courtyard outside of NJPAC, you’d never know you were in the middle of abject fetid squalor. Well played, Newark. Well played.
In any event, the opening act for the show was The Cadillac Black. Like ZZ Top, they’re a three-piece rock band with plenty of attitude. I had never heard of them before the concert, but even going into the show blind, I still liked their music.
Funny thing; I kept hearing a lot of bass, even though there wasn’t a bass player to be seen. Drums/slide guitar/lead guitar is kind of a different line-up and not really one made for a lot of deep groove stuff. I couldn’t quite figure out how they were getting that ribcage-rattling low-end thump. As best as I could tell, the slide player was hitting bass pedals with his feet. Pretty cool.
Most importantly, the warm-up act did what it should, which is warm up the crowd for the main event.
ZZ Top wasn’t touring to support a new album–that’s next year’s road show–so they were basically free to play whatever they wanted out of their vast back catalogue. This meant songs from 1971 rubbed elbows with 21st century tunes. This was much cooler than one might expect.
One great thing about a band that’s been around for over forty years is that there’s a good chance that the bullshit will be kept to a minimum. In this case, there were no bloviating dissertations about the plight of the oppressed Touareg people of East Bumblesnatch or some other nonsense. There were no dead spots where the band rambled on about the time they were in an Estonian museum and they shook the hand of the underminister of ministering agencies while contemplating some random horrifying modern art masterpiece. Instead of that sort of uberdouche lameness, the guys shared some laughs with the audience, revelled in sexxxed-up imagery and played the hell out of their material.
Another great aspect of watching true professional musicians do their thing is how much better the songs sound in concert than on the record. ZZ Top’s studio work is top-notch, but hearing them live is a revelation. The songs are faster, groovier, raunchier and just much more fun in a live setting. You haven’t properly heard “Cheap Sunglasses” until you’ve shouted the refrain in a massive concert hall alongside several thousand other totally stoked people shaking their booties like pagans.
By the way, have you ever really given any thought to how many absolutely great ZZ Top songs there are? I’m a fan of the band and even I got schooled. “Brown Sugar”, “Under Pressure”, “Jesus Left Chicago”, “Legs”, “La Grange”; the list of flat-out ace tracks goes on and on. Their hits are classic rock radio staples, but even the deeper cuts on their albums are tremendous. Last week’s show was a strong reminder of the amazing songwriting talent these guys have been blessed with.
The show should also be seen as an educational moment for a lot of bands out there. As a music fan, I listen to a lot of truly mopey groups. Having said that, when rock and roll is at it’s best it’s not tortured angst-ridden therapy sessions set to music. While it doesn’t always have to be happy or dirty, rock should have at least a healthy dollop of bump-n-grind fun thrown into the mix. ZZ Top is a band steeped in the blues, a genre marked by sad laments and woe-is-me subject matter. But the blues can also be party time music celebrating sex, barfights, hot cars, alcohol, single entendres, double entendres and every other kind of naughty goodness. ZZ Top recognizes the greatness of the blues, but doesn’t let the sadness overwhelm the great time they are determined to have. Scads of music groups could learn a thing or three from Billy Gibbons & Co.
ZZ Top’s show at the NJPAC was, in a word, spectacular. I’d see them again in a heartbeat. If you get the chance to catch them live, you really should not miss it. Before Kid Rock, before Guns n’ Roses, before any of that other happy horse shit, ZZ Top was the original American badasses.
Oh, what the hell, here’s “Tush” too.
I know you’ve heard the song a zillion times, but how can you not love that track?
