In the modern musical landscape, just about everything seems to be known - all the time. Album releases are announced months in advance, and usually songs drip about once per month for about two or three months ahead of time. And bands that have been dormant for a while, usually announce a new release very early to build anticipation. And then there is Neurosis.
Neurosis have been a favorite of mine in the post-metal genre for quite some time - along with now retired Isis, to me, they have been the standard bearers for this brand of metal characterized by sludgy tempos, tribal rhythms, hypnotic patterns, and ambient passages. And screamed vocals - often mixed with clean vocals as well. But Neurosis had been quiet as a band since 2019, when they played their last concert, and their last album, Fires Within Fires, was released in 2016. In 2022, the band issued a statement following founding guitarist Scott Kelly’s admission of long time systematic abuse of his wife and his children. Their response revealed the character of the band, and I assumed they were done. This feeling was strengthened when drummer Jason Roeder announced retiring from touring and was selling off most of his equipment. I thought their body of work would speak for itself, and that we had seen the last of them.
Then we get to March 20 this year. I was looking at the release list for the day, with few interesting releases. Then I noticed it. Neurosis. An Undying Love For A Burning World. What was this? I hadn’t heard anything about Neurosis in a long time. And it turned out to be a new album. And not just that, without Scott Kelly, they had added Aaron Turner on guitar and screaming vocals. Aaron Turner of Isis (and Sumac and Mamiffer). I had to check this out. And I was blown away. An Undying Love For A Burning World opens with We Are Torn Wide Open, a song I only can describe as a shouted chant. And then Mirror Deep follows in crushing fashion. But they really kick into the tribal sludge on the third song, First Red Rays, which is just about a perfect post-metal song. Aaron Turner’s screams, Noah Landis’ ambient sections, and Steve Von Till’s haunting vocals are all present and held together by the glue created by bassist Dave Edwardson and the aforementioned drummer Jason Roeder.
To me, this was the album I didn’t know how much I needed. I think they have created a masterpiece, and I keep returning to it. Now, I know this isn’t for everyone, but it certainly is for me - and I hope you may like it as well!
It’s been about 10 years since I first shared the song Tribal Convictions by VoiVod, and it has only grown in stature with me since then. I love the tribal drum beat by only continuous member, Michel Langevin (or Away, as he is better known - and I just realized that another band where the drummer is the only continuous member is Deep Purple with Ian Paice, which makes for pretty good company), and when I saw that Voivod just released an album with the Quebec Symphony Orchestra, because of course they would, it was a great opportunity to bring the track back to life again.
And yes, I know what you are thinking: Metal and orchestral music don't work. And there are examples that are supporting that claim (Metallica's S&M are fun curiosities, but not really expanding on the original sound, maybe because Metallica's music already is highly orchestrated, especially from Master of Puppets and out, the Norwegian band TNT did something with Trondheim Symphony Orchestra for their 30th anniversary - it wasn’t bad, but it didn’t add all that much. Personally, I loved Deep Purple’s Concerto for Group and Orchestra, written by classically trained keyboardist Jon Lord, but it never got much of a critical acclaim.
However, there have been major exceptions - and to me, they mainly have come from the more avant garde metal bands, who by nature already have an approach to the music that really invites the sonic expansion that comes with an orchestra. I loved Triptykon’s Requiem Live At Roadburn. I love Amen Ra’s A Solitary Reign with Atomic Orchestra. And I love VoiVod’s Symphonique. VoiVod’s music is often angular and sparse - there aren’t the layers of guitar you can find on Metallica’s album - so the enhancement that an orchestra brings almost makes the initial recording sound like demos or sketches, as the orchestra really fills the sound. And they fill it with the sound of cosmic doom, perfectly fitting their world of sci fi horror. So enjoy the Tribal Convictions yet again - this time with Quebec Symphony Orchestra!
I don't know that I have hidden my attraction to odd and quirky music particularly well - it is indeed true. One of my favorite musicians is Les Claypool, bassist and singer in Primus - as well as a host of other side projects: Colonel Les Claypool's Fearless Flying Frog Brigade (their cover of Pink Floyd's Animals album is spectacular), Duo De Twang (Stayin' Alive never sounded more redneck), Oysterhead (with Stewart Copeland of Police fame and Trey Anastasio from Phish - all three of them are really institutions in themselves), and, finally (although this list is not extensive), The Claypool Lennon Delirium. Les Claypool is the unlikeliest of frontmen - he has a well-cultivated quirky look, often enhanced with costumes and masks, he has a nasal voice that for some is a very acquired taste, especially when singing, and if any bassist ever strutted around on stage, it is him. But it works. It works because of a history of being self-effacing (the chant of love for Primus fans is "Primus sucks"), a nerdy approach to both instrument and lyrics, and a genuine likability that you can't put a price tag on (check out Geddy Lee's Paramount show Bass Players Are Human Too - the episode with Les Claypool is fantastic and showcases a personality that is as free from artifice as you can get (unless I simply buy the hype and he has me completely fooled (and yes, I know that parentheses inside parentheses are not proper writing - but as long as I put enough closing parentheses, you know what I mean (thank you Excel for the many lessons in nested parentheses)))).
There is no accident that I was able to bring in Geddy Lee when I talk about Les Claypool. Claypool is a die-hard Rush fan, and Primus even went on tour playing Rush's seminal A Farewell To Kings album (part of a stretch of albums that really defined their career, starting with 2112 and to me running through Grace Under Pressure, although most Rush fans would probably end it with Moving Pictures) in its entirety. I can also recognize some of Lee's bass tone in Claypool's bass - when he plays it more traditionally. But Les Claypool isn't about tradition - he is about invention and pushing the instrument further. His combination of the funky slap style from the 70s and 80s, a chordal approach to his playing, and speed and agility on his runs (Wikipedia also suggests a flamenco influence) is completely his own. While John Entwistle may have played the bass as a solo instrument and Geddy Lee and John Paul Jones filled out a ton of space to support guitar work that sometimes was ethereal, Les Claypool combines that - but also finds a way to fill the sonic landscapes with lush cascades of runs, chords, and, yes, melody. And when he started out, nobody approached the bass even close to how he did.
In the mid 2010s, he paired up with Sean Ono Lennon and formed The Claypool Lennon Delirium, and their approach to what Lennon labeled "progadelica" fits Claypool's quirkiness and the ethereal tone of Lennon's voice. Their music ranges from songs sounding like Danny Elfman's The Nightmare Before Christmas (Troll Bait) to trippy prog (Boomerang Baby, South of Reality), to more straight up psychedelia (Amethyst Realm). They have released three albums: Monolith of Phobos (2016), South Of Reality (2019), and just recently, The Great Parrot-Ox And The Golden Egg Of Empathy, and I love all three of them. You can clearly hear Claypool's influence all over them, but it is equally clear that Lennon has his own musical vision here as well. He is a solid guitarist, but to me, it is the voice he brings - and a sense of melody that clearly harkens back to that very famous band from the 60s. But I will not dwell on his heritage here, because Sean Ono Lennon stands very competently on his own two feet. And paired up with Claypool, we get a combination of two great but distinctively different musical approaches, much like Pink Floyd had in Gilmour/Waters and that other band had in Lennon/McCartney. Here, Lennon has the melodic and fluid style of Gilmour and McCartney, while Claypool is the counterpart bringing an edge (or, more accurately in this case quirkiness (yes, I like the word a lot (what is it with me and nested parentheses today?))) similarly to Waters and Lennon in the aforementioned songwriting pairs.
On the album The Great Parrot-Ox And The Golden Egg Of Empathy, there is one track that just has etched itself onto my brain like a Nerve Tattoo (thank you, Motorpsycho), and that is the song Meat Machines. It has a long synthesized intro for a little over a minute before the guitar comes in - and then there is Claypool's bass anchoring it all with a tone right from Geddy Lee's playbook. It is filled with treble, which really makes it pop, but when the pre-chorus sets in, the rich bottom appears as well. It may not be earthshatteringly original when it comes to the melody, but it is wonderfully constructed, and even more so, it is wonderfully written, both musically and lyrically. It asks the question "is there more to us?" - "are humans nothing more than meat machines?" It is filled with standout lines, like "It's such a very precarious line between stoned and petrified" and "when you can't see the maze you're in, how can you escape it?" It asks many big questions - and what I love is that it doesn't try to answer them. And I would argue that this is a case of asking the questions itself is answering them.
It's been a long time again. Luckily, this time I didn't have to reopen the site - or I wasn't met with a "Tore doesn't live here anymore" message the way I was the last time I popped back in. I always have plans. Great plans. And then life pops in and gets in the way. But this time, there has been so many great releases. So many. And some of them were surprise drops as well. But I want to start with an old favorite of mine. Tori Amos. And no, it's not because there is only a vowel difference in our first names. It is because I have been genuinely moved by here latest album, In Times Of Dragons.
In the beginning of her career, with albums like Little Earthquakes and Under The Pink (I am choosing to ignore Y Kant Tori Read - although it is charming in its way), she really moved me. Massively so. But sometime after Boys For Pele, I lost the connection I had to her music. I loved From The Choirgirl Hotel, but I don't remember much of it. It didn't stick the same way the first three albums had. And To Venus and Back really didn't click. Then I loved Strange Little Girls, the collection of cover songs, including Slayer's Raining Blood - although I have to admit that some of her choices for arrangements were pretty far out there.
So I lost touch with her music for a while, but around the time of the album Native Invader from 2017, I started picking up her music again. The time was right for me to explore the 16 year gap, more or less, and it revealed good albums. Not stellar, to me, but good. Ocean To Ocean followed, and I caught her on tour for the first time. Needless to say, I loved the show - and not even a boot on her broken foot slowed her down.
But In Times Of Dragons is to me an album that brings me back to the old days. This time, again, she has something to say, and she's not afraid to speak her mind. From an artistic point of view, I have always been a huge proponent of "show, don't tell," but these days, subtlety gets lost in the constant roar of what Tori Amos unabashedly label the patriarchy. She hits hard this time. Her words are direct. They are political. They are charged. And she is unapologetic. The lyrics in Shush make clear just how she feels: "Southern girls know what it means/when the patriarchy menacingly says/you shush yourself now."
And then there is the music. The piano churns out bass heavy chords, slogging along at a pace that is heavy. So very heavy. We feel the weight of what she is singing about. Her right-hand hits lighter notes - there is a sprinkling of treble notes as well. But there is very little light that is shining through.
And then there is the added weight of the final lines: "I knew a girl who wrote/'Silent All These Years'/Where is she." And on those notes, those words, the song ends. Having followed her embrace and empowerment of femininity since the beginning, those words, with the callback to Silent All These Years, hit hard. And that sets the tone for the rest of the album. This is prime Tori Amos. This is greatness. This is one of the greatest female voices of all time. This is what you NEED to listen to!
On Friday the 13th of September, the other band that really made me realize that the era where I first started listening to them really defines what I listen to with them released their 27th (!) album (although if you could add a couple other releases depending on how you choose to count. The band is Motorpsycho, and I think I already have shared a little bit about how I started listening to them the summer of 1993 - and I did see them live at least once a year until I moved to the US in 1999. To me, the albums they releasted from Demon Box in 1999 through Trust Us in 1998 are unparallelled in Norwegian rock history - and they also form one of the strongest album arcs of any artist/band I have followed.
However, following Trust Us, they started playing with pop arrangements, and while I think the three next albums are perfectly servicable with some songs that are absolutely spectacular, something was missing from the far out freak outs of their 90s output to me. It was still indeed Motorpsycho, but it did not hit me the same way as the earlier music had done. I almost wrote that it was not the same - but I am actually appreciative of that, as I do like that they grow, develop, and are true to themselves. But the thing was that to me, they didn't hit me the same way. Then their drummer, Gebhardt, left, and the album Black Hole/Blank Canvas was a letdown for me. I still struggle listening to it. But with their next album and their next drummer, Kenneth Kapstad, they were back to form again, and I loved the albums they released with him - but I struggle remembering many songs, if any. After Kapstad left, they got Tomas Järmyr in as a drummer, and once again, they created great albums that I enjoyed - but with limited durability or staying power.
Then Järmyr left, and they are back to the core duo of Bent Sæther on bass and vocals (and drums in the studio, at least) and Hans Magnus Ryan (Snah) on guitar and vocals. And then the album Neigh came out. And rarely has an album been more aptly named. It isn't that it is bad, and it could be that it will grow on me if I listen to it more, I just really don't feel like it. There is something missing. The lone highlight to me is Elysium, Soon - which sounds like the brother or sister of Evernine, one of the highlights of Trust Us for me. It's not that it's a bad album, as I already said, it's just not really clicking for me. And while I think that the obvious explanation to me is that it doesn't flow as freely as an album does when they play as an ensemble (although this was an odds and ends album, so the flow of the album may not have happened regardless - it's just that whenever they play a song without a drummer from outside the core duo, it sounds flat).
But I do think that in contrast to Nick Cave, this proves my point. I don't think they ever will reach the same heights for me that they reached in the 90s. I think we may have grown apart - and nostalgia may be a significant factor here as well - but the bottom line is that the music they made in the 90s still hits me as hard as it did back then. I still love those albums... Demon Box, Timothy's Monster, Blissard, Angels And Daemons at Play, and Trust Us still get played often. And whenever I play them, I get transported to this other world. And I don't even really need to play them to listen to them. They have tattooed themselves onto my nervous system, hardwired themselves into my cerebral cortex, so all I need to do is focus - and I am right there, from the first "hee haw" of Waiting For The One that opens Demon Box to the climactic finish of Hey Jane that mellows out with Dolphyn (Eric Dolphy, anyone?) that ends Trust Us. Just about all of it is right there. And that is the beauty of music.
Now I have followed them for 31 years, and I will follow them until they pack it all up and close the doors to their bunker (battening the hatches, so to speak) - and I will keep on enjoying their music, but they really haven't created music that keep visiting me since Trust us in 1998. They have not released bad albums, but their music just has not clicked with me to the same extent. The only exceptions to this are their Roadwork live albums, where you still can hear the fire burning. In that sense, they are getting closer to Grateful Dead in that their live work surpasses their studio work - they just need to keep putting out great live music... I will be here to buy and to listen.
In the meantime, I will keep on listening to the great albums from the 90s. And every now and then I will listen to some of the later work as well. Sometimes that does lead to me rediscovering music I almost had written off, and with Motorpsycho being as strong of a band as they are, I am almost expecting that to happen. And then there is Elysium, Soon. I will keep listening to it.
These past few weeks, I have been thinking a lot about music - and about how so much about it is dependent on time and place. Back when I was in high school, I am thinking 1988 or so, I was introduced to Nick Cave by Lars Tomren Støring, one of the new friends I had made with a great taste in music. And I should probably point out that when I said he introduced me to him, I am really talking about his music - I have not met the man himself (although I finally have seen him live - and I will see him live again in Detroit on April 19, 2025 - but this time with The Bad Seeds). The album that launched my love for Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds was Tender Prey, with The Mercy Seat as the focal point (later covered very successfully by Johnny Cash), and ever since, he has been a fixture in my record collection - and in my musical taste. The next album, The Good Son (1990), was the one most of my other friends discovered, but I kept going back to Tender Prey. The Good Son was followed by a string of great albums: Henry’s Dream (1992), Let Love In (1994), Murder Ballads (1996), and The Boatman’s Call (1997). It is quite an impressive string if albums, and while I mainly go back to Henry’s Dream and The Boatman’s Call, I really love this series of album, as well as No More Shall We Part from 2001. 2004’s Nocturama was a low point for me, and I almost gave up on him, especially after hearing that Blixa Bargeld left The Bad Seeds prior to Abbatoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus from 2004; however that was a true return to form.
I have been following him and his career all the while, through Grinderman and work with Warren Ellis as well as more solo oriented recordings and tours, and he has always been there, lurking, with music that recently has made me think more than feel. His career started changing with the album Push The Sky Away (2013), where traditional song structures were disappearing for more free form poetry accompanied by a more ethereal sounding Bad Seeds. Personal tragedy struck while he was recording Skeleton Tree (2016), and this style of music was taken to a long-form extreme on Ghosteen (2019). Of course, being somewhat of a completist, I have also gone back in time and listened to the albums released prior to Tender Prey, including the work from The Boys Next Door and The Birthday Party. But the music of his that is nearest and dearest to me is still the output from the 1990s, which is when I was most active listening to music - and probably when a lot was imprinted on me.
And that is really what I wanted to write about, and I will do a follow up to show a contrasting feeling with a different artist that is near and dear to my heart. I am developing somewhat of a thesis that when we first hear an artist - and I am really talking about the period here more than a specific year, although in some cases, that is how short the period is - really cements how we listen to them. And it doesn’t have to be contemporaneous music to when we first hear them (if that was the case, I would be listening more to Paul McCartney and Wings than The Beatles, as The Beatles were over by the time I was born), but it is the music we got introduced to. And there aren’t many exceptions to that in my book. But Nick Cave is one of them.
Now, let me be very clear about one thing: I am all for artists developing and evolving - and I am also perfectly at ease with me evolving in a different direction - that is what growing apart is all about. But sometimes artists grow in ways that are separate, yet somewhat parallel - but make just the right turn at just the right time to hit you just right again. Nick Cave is one of those artists for me. Like I said earlier, Nocturama was a low point, but Abbatoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus became a spectacular high again - and it is one album I keep on revisiting, especially Abbatoir Blues. Dig Lazarus Dig (2008) sounded like he tried too hard, and, as I already have said, Push The Sky Away, Skeleton Tree, and Ghosteen all hit me differently. They are great albums, but they are not ones I come back to all the time (although there are songs like the haunting Jesus Alone that follow me around) - until Wild God, released August 30. I have listened to it quite a bit - but I also find that the songs from it come to visit me frequently. It started with Wild God, but I find that songs like Frogs and Joy and Conversion also come visiting more and more often. And that, too me, is what makes an album great. When you can listen to it when it isn’t even playing. There are some albums I can do that with - and that is happening with Wild God to me right now.
I don’t know that I will think that any of his albums will top the series he released from Tender Prey in 1988 through The Boatman’s Call in 1997 (I might throw in No More Shall We Part from 2001 as well) to me - and that is the important thing to remember here, this is all about how I connected with his music - but Wild God is damn close. As was Abbatoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus. And that, to me, is what makes Nick Cave so very special. And I am pumped to see him live with The Bad Seeds in April!
How do you respond to personal tragedy? That is a question we all will have to face in life, and likely more than once. What do we do? Where do we go?
For Manic Street Preachers, that personal tragedy happend on February 1, 1995. At 7:00 AM, Richey Edwards checked out of the Embassy Hotel in London. He was scheduled to meet up with singer/guitarist James Dean Bradfield to fly to the US. He never showed up - and he was never heard from again. To this day, there is no certainty as to what happened, but he was declared presumed dead on November 23, 2008.
Initially, Richey Edwards was the Manics' driver and photographer, as he was another close friend - the only friend who could drive... But he eventually joined the band on rhythm guitar despite barely knowing how to play - and it wasn't a skill that developed much during his time in the Manics. But he had style and public relations skills - and he wrote lyrics along with Nicky Wire. And what lyrics they were... The Manics' third album, The Holy Bible, which was released at the end of August, 1994, was filled with Richey's harrowing lyrics about depression, anorexia and the state of the world. Reading the lyrics to 4st 7lb is particularly painful, as it clearly depicts anorexia and a weight sliding down to the lower tolerance limit of the title, which is about 63 punds.
Richey had his demons. Suffering from depression and anorexia, and finding solace in cutting and other self harm, he had been receiving in-patient treatment on several occasions. And then he vanished, leaving his three very good friends behind to try to pick up the pieces. Like I said yesterday, these were good friends who decided to play music together, and three of them are still doing that. But in 1995 they were faced with the very existential question: What do we do now?
So how do you respond to personal tragedy? I must admit that I greatly admire the ones who turn it into something constructive, and that was what Manic Street Preachers did. After a six month hiatus, and with the blessing of Richey Edwards' family, they regrouped and eventually recorded Everything Must Go, which in some instances at least to me seemed to deal with Edwards' disappearance head on.
We don't talk about love We only want to get drunk
These two lines are from the song of the day today, A Design For Life, the first single from the fantastic Everything Must Go. I could go on playing music by the Manic Street Preachers for a long time following my much delayed awakening, but I will take a little bit of a break from them now. But please explore them. It is quite the treasure trove.
Some songs just stay with you. I hadn't listened to Motorcycle Emptiness from the Manic Street Preachers' first album Generation Terrorists in years when I for some reason started looking at the Manics again this summer. I can't remember what compelled me to do so, but oftentimes it is something I read or see on tv that triggers a memory or a desire to explore some music further. And this summer, Manic Street Preachers became yet another rabbithole for me to fall down into. I remember getting Generation Terrorists way back when it first was released in 1992. I liked it. I liked it a lot. But to me, my interest in the Manics was relatively short lived at that point.
After rediscovering them, I will say that watching the documentary No Manifesto really changed the way I looked at them. I have a soft spot for friends deciding to get together to play music - and even more so when the same friends are still together making music 34 years after they start and 28 years after they released their first album. It hasn't been without issues, but I will save that for a later post. To me, the fact that James Dean Bradfield (guitar and vocals), Nicky Wire (bass), and Sean Moore (drums) still play together - and still sound damned good - is really what every band aspire to. On their first three albums, Richey Edwards played rhythm guitar and wrote lyrics with Nicky Wire, so that is the fourth member seen in this video.
I still won't pretend that I fully understand the lyrics to Motorcycle Emptiness and all the imagry it contains - although I get the theme of consumerism and the hollow pleasures it brings. And I am a huge fan of the final switch from "motorcycle emptiness" to "everlasting nothingness". "Under neon loneliness" indeed.
There isn’t much to say about this song except that it describes DJT perfectly. But Rollins band is well worth exploring if you haven’t yet. The musicianship is stellar - on the album Weight, the lineup featured Melvin Gibbs on bass and Sim Cain on drums, both of whom had played with one of my favorite jazz guitarists, Marc Ribot, but in Rollins Band, they played with Chris Haskett on guitar, and the sound they created was the perfect foil to Henry Rollins’ uncompromising and at times brutal delivery. And Liar has a perfect description of a narcissistic con man of the type that currently occupies the White House.
So Fiona Apple might have this year's best album - at least in my book (and certainly so far, I have no doubt) - but last year was all about Tool for me. I discovered Tool through the song Sober a long, long time ago and have been following them since. They had released the EP Opiate in 1990, and then they released their first official full length album (Opiate almost has a full album playing time, but it's still an EP) Undertow in 1991, which is where Sober was found. Then, like clockwork, every 5 years they released a new album. Aenema in 1996, Lateralus (in my opinion still their masterpiece) in 2001, and 10,000 Days in 2006. And then it was quiet. Until last fall, when they released Fear Innoculum. After waiting 13 years, the expectations were insanely high, and I am really happy to say that they delivered. Fear Innoculum was a great album, with great musicianship throughout - but then again, you know that's what you will get when you talk about Tool.
The song I have selected is 7empest, but I could easily have selected just about any song on the album. It is that even. It really goes from highlight to highlight, and it feels like one cohesive artistic statement. 7empest is the last proper song on the album, and if you have the physical copy (cd), it is the closing number. It is well worth listening to - it is long, but it is spectacular...
I know, I am a couple of days off with this song, but I had other things I wanted to get off my chest, so I put it off. But I have a feeling that Fiona Apple crushed the competition for best album of the year as early as April 17... Fetch The Bolt Cutters is a spectacular record, and every time I listen to it, I discover something new. I love the production - it is a very percussive album - and I really think she is the link between Tori Amos and Tom Waits that I didn't know that I needed, but now don't quite know what I would do without.
Fiona Apple has been nothing but consistent in the quality of music that she has released. Starting with Tidal, which was nothing short of a spectacular debut album - one of the best debut albums I have ever heard. She takes her time between albums to make this happen, and this time it had been 8 years since The Idler Wheel... But Fetch The Bolt Cutters was well worth the wait. It sounds like she is in your living room performing - and that is probably because she did record it at home. That is one of the awesome consequences of the technological advances of the last few years - high quality equipment is both affordable and portable enough that just about anybody wanting to record decent quality music can do so. And for someone as reclusive as Fiona Apple, that does mean that she can record where she is comfortable - which shows in the music as well.
In short, I love this album. The title track stood out right away, as well as the song Shameika, where the chorus, "Shameika told me I had potential" sounds haunting to me. There is something about that line that really touched me. However, the song I am playing is Under The Table, which I take the liberty of dedicating to all the women who didn't shut up, who didn't conform. It's been 100 years of women's suffrage in the US (I know, I am off by a couple of days), and that is something I think Fiona Apple can help us celebrate.
Last week I was bemoaning the way I currently discover music - but one positive in all of this available music is that it is possible to find long forgotten songs as well, and that is what today is all about - before I take a few days to talk a little bit more about music that has been released a little more recently, which is my plan for the next few entries...
But today, I want to go back in time. Back to 1988 or thereabouts, when I was about 16 years old. My friend Jan Are played rhythm guitar in the band Ceptic Tank, and they had secured a gig opening for (somewhat unknown) Ræva Rockers at UFFA (Ungdom For Fri Aktivitet - Youth For Free Expression, more or less), a notorious underground venue in Trondheim where several of the Norwegian great bands got their start (it was a place where bands like Wannskrækk, who turned to Norwegian rock's most popular band DumDum Boys, Motorpsycho, and Israelvis played early and often) - and the audience was always enthusiastic.
Anyway, on the day of the gig, I think I was asked to push the buttons for the stage lights for Ceptic Tank. I had no clue what I was doing, but somehow ended up doing a decent enough job with it, so the people in Ræva Rockers asked me if I could do it for them as well. My 16 year old self was probably beaming with pride as I accepted, and I was getting very excited. I was going to do something for a touring rock band. Pretty cool, huh?
So Ceptic Tank finished their set, and Ræva Rockers were getting ready to go on stage when tragedy struck: A fuse had blown in the mixer. It was late at night, and getting a new fuse meant going to a gas station, but most gas stations had already closed. However, there was one pretty close by exception: A Shell station. Problem solved, right? Not so fast... This was back in 1988, and South Africa was still in the throes of apartheid (this was right around Little Steven's Sun City project). What I neglected to say about UFFA was how radical it was - very, VERY left leaning, closing in on anarchism (some called themselves anarchosocialists), and Shell was doing business in South Africa, hence they were on the list of companies good leftists would boycott. So faced with the choice of spending a minimal amount of money at a Shell gas station or simply not playing the gig, Ræva Rockers held true to their principles and did not play - and thus my light contributions were limited to Ceptic Tank. But I still think the story is worth telling... And I did go back to UFFA to buy the Ræva Rockers EP, where today's song is from. It is called Depp, and the lyrics don't make much sense to me today either... But I like the song...
So where do you go when you look for new music that sounds interesting? What direction can you go that doesn't sound like it's been done before? That is really what I struggle with these days. So much music sound like rehashes - and often in styles I am tired of (or genres where there are some bands that simply are so good that anyone else sound like pale immitations). As music stores became less important, I started trawling the internet for sources - and year end lists of music have been a great inspiration - although sometimes I even look at "top ten..." genre lists to find new music.
So what does it take for me to find music interesting? That is a good question. Sometimes I am a sucker for a good melody, a good pop song. Now, granted, what I consider a good pop song is rarely found on the top 40 charts, and my definition of what a pop song is might deviate from the norms, but a melody and a hook without too much ornamentation can be very good. And sometimes, the arrangement has to be changed for me to realize it (or maybe I simply am a music snob - how else can I explain how I detested Britney Spears' Oops I Did It Again while I love Richard Thompson's acoustic version of it - oh, that's right, I will stick to the arrangement argument).
But what I love the most is when a song is unpredictably moving forward in a way that makes sense when you look back at it. I like dissonance giving way to a harmonic resolution. I like odd time signatures that roll along in a way that they sound "normal". I like chaos that have splashes of order. I like the push and pull between extremes. I like tension. I think this is why I am drawn to bands with strong opposing personalities: The Beatles with John Lennon's edge and Paul McCartney's pop polish. Pink Floyd with Roger Waters' edge and David Gilmours pop polish. The tension inherent in these two bands really brought out the best in everyone involved. Even solo artists like Nick Cave, who has foils in his Bad Seeds (Blixa Bargeld for a long time, then Warren Ellis), and David Bowie with his Mike Garson on keyboards or Reeves Gabrels on guitar - the different strong personalities push and pull and creates tension.
And this tension is really apparent in Imperial Triumphant, a New York trio that claims to play rock music. The most commonly seen category - or genre - I have seen is avant garde black metal. They do use some of the black metal tropes: blastbeats and cookie monster vocals are very prominent. But then there is everything else... The clear jazz elements, the very angular riffs, the occasional freewheeling bass runs... I don't care what anyone wants to call it, I simply call it great music. Their latest album, Alphaville, was released on July 31, and it is a masterpiece. This is not music for everybody - sometimes it takes time to cut through the dense layers of sound to find the nuances that truly makes Imperial Triumphant worth listening to. Today's track has a drum section with Japanese Taiko drums where they got Thomas Haake from Meshuggah to help out. It was recorded in a dojo in New York City, and it provides another contrast in a great song. City Swine is it for today. And Imperial Triumphant is really a band worth checking out...
I have been thinking a lot lately about how things used to be - and how things are now - when it comes to music. I should start this off with a disclaimer: I don't collect records as much as I collect music. I am not one to be looking for specific pressings of vinyl albums, first editions, misprints or anything like that (at least not for most artists), but I am a sucker for finding new music to explore. And today, that is easier than ever. I can get most music on Amazon - and what I can't get there, I can at least check out at YouTube first. There are long articles with detailed discographies available online, so I can always find out what just about any artist has released. And it is great! There is no doubt about that.
I am ok with MP3 files - if the bitrate is 256 kbps or higher, I don't hear the loss so many complain about (especially vinyl fanatics), and so I have all my CDs converted to MP3 files and while Amazon still allowed it, I uploaded every CD I owned so that I can access it from the cloud, knowing it is music I paid for (I actually believe in doing my small part for musicians to be paid). I have the same relationship with music as I do with books: I have a nostalgic relationship to physical copies (I loved peering over vinyl albums while playing them for the first time just as much as I loved the smell of a new book as I cracked it open), but ultimately, it is the content that matters. The music on albums and the text in books. And If I can have all of them at my fingertips on my phone, tablet, and computer, that just makes it that much easier to always access this content.
However, I also think that something has been lost in all of this, at least for me. I miss the discovery of stumbling over something I didn't know existed as I explored record stores - or the hunting down of releases I knew were out there that I had to convince record stores to get. I remember waiting for Tori Amos' second album, Under The Pink, having to ask the record store to order it, because it wasn't really on their radar. I remember stumbling over Primus' Miscellaneous Debris getting excited that they covered Peter Gabriel on a release I didn't know excisted. I remember going to a late night record shop in Philadelphia in 1995 on my first visit to the US, finding out that aforementioned Tori Amos had released an album under the moniker Y Kant Tori Read, and purchasing it despite the dubious version of that particular release (it was technically out of print, but someone decided to print it anyway...).
And I remember the sense of awe I felt when I on the same USA trip, this time in Baltimore, browsed through an outdoors record display for a tiny hole in the wall record shop - or maybe it was just one salesman sitting outside with some CDs to peddle - and I stumbled across a Soundgarden release called Screaming Life/Fopp. I was a huge Soundgarden fan, but I don't remember ever having heard about this. I picked it up, held it in my hands, and just looked at it. Was this legit? It sure looked like Chris Cornell... The names were right... Yup, I had to have it. So I bought it. I believe it was on heavy rotation on my DiscMan (remember those?) - and I truly enjoyed it. It might not be their finest moment, but Chris Cornell showed he could wail on the song I have chosen today... And Hunted Down fits, because that's what I used to have to do for albums. But not so much anymore. The only times it happens now is when I go against my interest in the music itself and also want to find a physical copy (such as it was with Tool's Fear Inoculum). But for the most part, the days of surprising finds are over. And while I do miss them, I still will have to say that having access to all this music isn't a bad thing either... Just sayin'.
So Douglas Adams and A Perfect Circle join hands in this little beauty from A Perfect Circle's album Eat The Elephant. "So long, and thanks for all the fish" was the last thing the dolphins said when they left earth just before it was demolished - and the title of the fourth book in the five-book trilogy The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. If you haven't read it yet, you should. (And yes, I know there is a sixth volume, but since it wasn't written by Douglas Adams, I refuse to formally acknowledge its existence.
But A Perfect Circle. I didn't really click with their music until they released Emotive in 2004. I had their first two albums, Mer de Noms (2000) and Thirteenth Step (2003) as well, and I liked them, but I was more into them because Maynard James Keenan of Tool was the singer. Then Emotive was released, consisting mainly of political cover versions, and their sound was dark on otherwise brighter songs, such as Imagine and (What's So Funny) 'Bout Peace, Love, and Understanding. The way they transformed songs to their own universe really spoke to me. Then it got quiet. For 14 years. Until Eat The Elephant dropped last Friday. And man, is it good. I am completely smitten with this album - and So Long and Thanks for All the Fish is one of the reasons why.
This is a treat. I used to be a peripheral fan of Bruce Springsteen. I had the live box on vinyl thanks to a friend who was a huge fan, but not necessarily of the box - and for the longest time I was convinced that was the only thing you really needed of him. But I have gradually built my collection - and my conviction that I needed more came with the album The Ghost of Tom Joad from 1995. It was a great collection of folk song, and to me it was more than just a return to form, as I really saw it as a great artistic statement.
The title track was an early favorite of mine, and it was later covered by Rage Against The Machine - but not in a way that I really cared all that much for. However, in 2009, during the 25th anniversary of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame concerts, Springsteen included the guitarist of RATM, Tom Morello, who also has done a lot of folk music under the moniker The Nightwatchman, and while the original had been interesting, Morello's lead guitar work takes the song to new heights for me. Shivers and goosebumps all over - here is The Ghost of Tom Joad.
Today I will let the music do most of the talking. This song was recorded in 1974 (!), and yes, it is a long one, but it is well worth listening to. It is easy to hear the cars passing by, and with musical elements switching between harmony and some disharmony, it is always interesting. Although Kraftwerk had released three albums already (Kraftwerk, Kraftwerk II, and Ralf und Florian), Autobahn was where they really started coming into their own - and creating something uniquely new. Michael Rother and Klaus Dinger, who had been working with the band in the early 70s had left to form Neu!, and while there were other collaborators on the album Autobahn, the title track only featured the two core members in Kraftwerk: Ralf Hütter and Florian Schneider (only Hütter still remains after Schneider left in 2008). It is a 22 minute long track that really takes you along the German expressways (autobahns) - and I can't believe that it is 44 years old. This was in the infancy of synthesizers, but what they were able to do simply blows me away!
I want to talk about guns today. There. I've said it. And it's long and rambling.
And let me be upfront about something first: I don't like guns. I get nervous around guns. I'll readily admit that the few guns I have shot at targets have been fun, but I don't trust other people with them, and I stay away from them. That does not mean that I am against people being able to own guns - although that is often a conclusion people draw. I would also like to point out that I grew up in Norway, where police did not wear guns when they were out patrolling, so I am even more nervous around guns in public - even if they are worn by police.
However, I am losing faith in humanity these days. And yes, it is largely because of what people post on social media - but also about what is being said at events like CPAC. While social media often functions as an echo chamber, it is also bringing to light some of what people really think, and with the PINO (President In Name Only) confusing political correctness and human decency, more and more people on the right are also finally saying what they really are thinking, and man, is that ugly.
I know that introduction flies directly in the face of David Brooks, who often is displayed as the "voice of reason" of conservatives, yet claims that we should let the conservative gun owners take a lead in this momentum for change. Guess what. That is the group that has been in charge. That is the group that has led us to where we are today. And where are we? Well... Funny you should ask:
We are at a place where people argue against gun control by stating that it is statistically speaking less likely to be killed in a school shooting than it is to be struck by lightning.
We are at a place where people question whether high school students who were fired upon really are advocating for gun control because they mean it or because they are paid by democrats.
We are at a place where conspiracy theorists are so stupid that they believe that school shootings are orchestrated by anti-gun activists who want to take our guns away (here's a hint: if there indeed is a conspiracy behind school shootings, follow the money. There isn't money in banning guns, but there is money in selling them - and gun sales always spike following a school shooting. NO, that does not mean that I am advocating conspiracy theories, I am just pointing out how incredibly stupid you would have to be if you believe that school shootings are orchestrated by gun control activist - just see how well school shootings have worked for gun control laws...).
We are at a place where gun activists will advocate for guns as tools, which really is a great argument - until you start including assault style rifles in that list.
We are at a place where people will argue that criminals and mentally ill should not have guns, yet people on the terrorism no-fly list should.
We are at a place where people are suggesting we should arm teachers, yet people who are trained to respond in situations like this were armed and on scene and did nothing.
The list goes on... But to the last point. I am actually not going to use this to attack the deputies that were there - I think I want to make a point about being human instead. People talk about the people who perform heroic acts, such as the football coach who shielded students with his body and look at them and say the people that were outside should have done more. And while I don't disagree, just think about one thing for a second. There is a difference between being in a war zone and actively and consciously entering a war zone. The risk of being shot increases dramatically in moving from a safe environment to one where you are actively going to be shot at - being able to be heroic comes with a much lesser increase of risk if someone is already in the same room as you firing away. I am not trying to take anything away from the heroes of the day - they have my respect and I hope I will have the same level of courage should I find myself in the same situation - but I am saying that you can have all the training in the world, but when the shit actually hits the fan, there is no guarantee that you will be able to react the way your training dictates. And that is why arming teachers is not an idea that makes sense to me. Teachers need to be trained to teach - that is what we are paying them for (and, of course, paying them less and less for, while increasing responsibilities - now also including the potential responsibility for stopping active shooters on campus). Someone much smarter than me pointed out that we are quicker to advocate arming teachers with guns than we are arming them with all the classroom supplies they need to effectively do their main jobs.
Let's talk about assault style rifles as tools for a minute. What exactly are they tools of? Seems to me they are tools of war. And I don't think civilians need tools for war. Why do I draw this conclusion? After all, I don't know much about guns, but I have started to figure out a few things about them. One thing I figured out from reading this op-ed by Heather Sher, a radiologist who treated the wounded after the shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, is just how the high velocity bullets shred everything in their way. It is all about killing as efficiently as possible - and making sure that you don't need to be a good shot to kill either.
One of the arguments I hear frequently is that it is hard to define what is an assault style rifle. Great argument, right? Yet it didn't stop us from having an operational ban on them from 1994-2004. Did this ban have an effect? The truth is, we don't know. Congress enacted the Dickey amendment in 1996, which stated that, "none of the funds made available for injury prevention and control at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) may be used to advocate or promote gun control." Of course, this law didn't start in a vacuum - only a couple of years earlier, CDC had funded research that showed there could be a link between guns in the home and homicide rates, which the NRA clearly didn't like much. So while it may be hard to define what is an assault style rifle, it is not impossible to do so. If we only should do what is easy, we wouldn't even have fire yet.
And let's talk about mental health for a minute. Our PINO has declared that anyone who perpetrates a mass school shooting is a "sicko" - at least that's the implication of his tweets. Yet fewer than 1% of firearm homicides are committed by people with a diagnosed mental illness. The chapter Mass Shootings and Mental Illness from the book Gun Violence and Mental Illness discusses this a little bit more - but the New York Times had an op-ed about how the mental health system cannot deal with this that clearly explained how the system actually works. It is often easy to look back at a person and see the signs that an atrocity was waiting to happen, but it isn't always easy to spot the signs ahead of time. That being said, in the latest shooting, there were multiple reports indicating the risk for this to happen, both to the Broward County Sheriff's Office and to the FBI - but that is an exception rather than the norm.
And then there is this idea that we should keep guns away from criminals. Except we don't. Not if you purchase the gun online or at a gun show. And then you have the fact that you are not a criminal until you commit your first crime. So if you plan shooting up a school as your first act of crime, you can legally purchase the firearms to do so.
Now contrast the approach towards mental health and criminals with the approach towards suspected terrorists. Suspected terrorists can legally buy as many guns as they want thanks to congress, who did not support Dianne Feinstein's proposed ban of gun sales to people on the no fly lists. In other words, they are considered to dangerous to be passengers on a plane, but let's give them a gun - because that makes so much sense.
Let's talk about suspicious behavior for a minute. The problem I think we can get into with reporting people we regard as suspicious is that we often consider behaviors and/or thoughts we don't understand as threatening, suspicious, or even dangerous. It will push the outsiders even further outside, and disenfranchise nonconformists even more than what is already happening. This does not mean that I don't think that we shouldn't notify authorities of suspicious activity, but I think we also need to know our biases before we do so. And teenage me would probably be flagged because of my constantly dark writings. I wrote short stories in my Norwegian and English classes every chance I could get, and they were frequently well outside of the mainstream.
So let's talk about gun control. I do not believe that our current system works. It's virtually unfettered access for just about anyone to buy just about any gun short of a fully automated weapon. And these weapons are misused. Abused. Some people talk about responsible gun owners, yet not many seem to want any kind of checks and balances on this responsibility. Imagine if we took that approach to cars. Would people abuse or ignore speed limits if police didn't actively monitor them? Absolutely. Relax, I can hear you. You are loudly saying that's not the same, our gun rights are constitutional. Well, rights come - or should come, at least - with responsibilities. There are countries that require training prior to gun ownership, and they require inspections of the weapons and their storage - inspections that are done by the police. That makes sense to me. But yes, I still hear you. The protection from tyranny. Sure. When can you invoke that right, though? At what point is a citizen uprising warranted? I don't believe it would be. I believe in the social contract, no matter how painful it can be at times. And right now it is really difficult to hold on to that belief, but I still am.
Where was I? Oh yes, gun control. So... What I believe we need is the following:
A complete ban of assault style weapons. I will leave the definition to experts, but I would look at things like rate of fire, velocity, and initial purpose (I know people use an AR-15 for hunting, for instance, but I very much doubt that was the initial purpose of the weapon). I do trust in the process and we did have an operational assault weapons ban for 10 years, so I know it can be done. I know this won't stop these weapons from being used, but let's at least make it harder to get a hold of them. We know the other way doesn't work, so this can't hurt to try.
Checks on responsible gun ownership.
All guns need to be stored in a locked gun cabinet. If the owner is home, one gun can be on the owner's person or in the owner's immediate vicinity.
A registry for gun owners. Every gun needs to be registered. And if you own a gun that is used in committing a crime, you area partially responsible.
Weapons training and licensing for all gun owners.
A complete repeal of the Dickey amendment. The idea that the CDC shouldn't lobby for gun control laws even if significant public health benefits are shown to come from it is about as ridiculous as slapping a ban on CDC from being able to lobby for vaccination laws.
Significant funding of gun violence research. We need science and we need it now.
Now, if we can't get a ban on assault style weapons, I want to be able to go to WalMart and buy my own nuclear weapon. If we are not going to draw the line on weapons designed to hurt human beings to the maximum degree possible, I want the right to bear arms extend beyond firearms. And no, I won't buy one, nor am I serious about this, I am just making a point.
So, on that note, I want to play a song. This version of Imagine was recorded during the reign of GWB. It is dark and depressing in tone, but it still shows hope in the same lyrics as John Lennon wrote. The band is A Perfect Circle, and the singer is Maynard James Keenan of Tool fame. It is a great band - and their 2004 album eMOTIVe has a great selection of thought provoking cover versions. A new album is expected in April, so that's always something to look forward to...
This Zappa instrumental has one major strength going for it: George Duke. His keyboards are spectacularly groovy, and the song fits his playing style perfectly. The Grand Wazoo was released in 1972, and the song Eat That Question featured Ansley Dunbar on drums and Alex Dmochowski on bass as well as George Duke. Dunbar has played with David Bowie as well as playing drums on Berlin, my favorite Lou Reed album. But today we are listening to Frank Zappa and Eat That Question.
Zoot Allures was a fantastic Zappa album. It features two instrumentals - yesterday's Zoot Allures and today's Black Napkins, and they are both great - they are by far my favorite Zappa instrumentals along with Peaches En Regalia and tomorrow's song. Sometimes guitar solos get boring - even Zappa's solos, but this one hits me hard every time I hear it. Still featuring Terry Bozzio on drums, this song also features Napoleon Murphy Brook on vocals, Roy Estrada on bass and vocals, and Andrè Lewis on organ. I still consider this an instrumental, as the vocals are only ooohs. This one is more laid back and straightforward than yesterday's title track - I hope you like it!
