I’m still puzzling together my thoughts on Random Access Memories. Already, a
couple of my least favorite songs have been seriously reevaluated as ones I
enjoy, and the battle for best track still rages between Giorgio and Williams.
But Williams absolutely has the album’s “best moment” in Touch, a towering epic
with more grandiosity and pomp than any Daft Punk track ought to have.
If you haven't heard the album yet, but you have heard "Get Lucky," you're okay to dive right into "Touch," Daft Punk's collaboration with songwriter Paul Williams.
Less so than Paul Williams’ desperate opening or closing
vocals, the robotic coo of “Hold on, if love is the answer, you’re home…” is
easily the most gorgeous melodic line on Random
Access Memories, and probably in Daft Punk’s career. It shouldn’t be a
surprise; it’s the same kind of simplistic, uncomplicated sentiment with which
Williams asked us why there are so many songs about rainbows.
But the rest of Williams’ vocal is far more bitter,
uncomfortably recalling human contact long past and the empty promises of
relationship. It’s a weird song about alienation, performed with Isaac
Hayes-like instrumentation until suddenly it isn’t. The trumpet section is
emotionally confusing; the song’s shifts from funk to jazz to chorale are
sudden. Maybe the joy of touch (portrayed as a danceable ragtime jazz
sequence?) ultimately leads to comfort in the chorus?
“If love is the answer, you’re home…hold on.”
Why “hold on?” Are we worried the narrator is not wanting to hold on? Sorry, obvious rhetorical question; let's try again. Are we telling
him to be patient, or just not to give up? Williams’ vocal is weak, not
forceful, and the spare loneliness of its a capella is a stark contrast to the
massive production on the rest. Are we worried our narrator is about to commit suicide? Emotional suicide?
It ends on a version of the refrain that claims touch has
“given too much to feel,” a sentiment more reminiscent of The Wall than The Muppet Show, indicating self-isolation as the result. It’s a weird emotional centerpiece for this album to have about the emptiness of
contact; RAM will end on a song very literally about contact with aliens, but more
about the excitement of discovery.
I probably have more to say about Random Access Memories, but I’m not sure if it’ll come in the form
of reviews or in more incomplete little posts like this. I really want to write
something about my odyssey through the entire David Bowie discography a few
months ago, and I really need to write about Modern Vampires Of The City. The pop charts are flooding with R&B, and it'll be fun to take that on. And, of course, the year’s third “event”
album in Yeezus is just around the
corner, and I pretty much can’t help but write about Kanye West.
I’m excited to be writing again; expect more soon.
Prod. by Dr. Dre,
Anthony “TOPDAWG” Tiffith, et al.
This one’s been rattling around for a while. Not good kid, m.A.A.d. city, which released
roughly a year after Kendrick’s independent album, Section.80, which I suppose
probably merits a review of its own.
No, my review’s taken its sweet time because I’m extremely indecisive
about my opinions on Kendrick’s sprawling narrative on the youthful pressures
and fantasies inspired by living in Compton.
Kendrick has neatly wrapped these ideas into twelve official
album tracks, although three more that I have not heard are included on the
special editions. These form a filmic concept album, more similar to The Wall than The College Dropout in terms of construction; the events follow a
linear narrative set in place by the lyrical content and the skits, following
the late-night travels of Kendrick at seventeen and his violent, gang-banging
friends. Kendrick resists many aspects of their lifestyle, but succumbs due to
peer pressure.
Most of these ideas are presented without subtlety;
Kendrick’s resistance to violence and drugs are pretty open on “The Art of Peer
Pressure” and “m.A.A.d. City,” his lust for neighborhood girl Sherane is
vocally present on “Sherane a.k.a. Master Splinter’s Daughter” and “Poetic
Justice,” and so on. This leads to some great moments; “Backseat Freestyle” is
a storytelling highlight, explaining how young guys fall into the trap of
saying stupid, offensive, and arrogant things in order to chest-beat at their
friends. “Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst” is a nice reflection on the
album’s themes that explicates the mission statement pretty openly over one of
the album’s more pleasant beats. “m.A.A.d. City’s” partial criticism of
violence comes with a fantastic “YAHK, YAHK, YAHK, YAHK,” which may be the
album’s absolute highlight. “Swimming Pools (Drank)” directly follows and is by
far the album’s best combination of music, rap delivery, and thematic content. It’s
great stuff; to discuss everything that’s in “Pools” would be to ruin the
surprises the album contains.
Unlike The Wall,
where missing the film or the stage show can leave one completely baffled by
the conclusion, good kid aspires to
be very comprehensible through its runtime. And, in doing so, the album
establishes a very strong sense of place; the tracks drip of a slightly
grittier and “more realistic” version of Compton one can draw from N.W.A.’s
classic albums. It all establishes a very strong sense of cohesiveness and
verisimilitude.
Unfortunately, that may partially be its downfall. The
album’s cover declares itself “a short film by Kendrick Lamar,” and this is
true; characters flow in and out of the story and, when Kendrick switches from
his young, hubristic teenage character, he switches to another believable youth
figure in the story.
But in keeping to these characters, Kendrick loses the
ability to write highly impressive lyrics. The lines are extremely
conversational (with a couple of notable exceptions) and ultimately don’t stand
out as “great rap lines.” It becomes especially apparent when Pharrell’s
four-line opening to “good kid” halfway through the album is probably the most
well-constructed lyric on the album. What’s more, these characters use gendered
and homophobic insults regularly, and while these elements are in-character and
don’t seem to be Kendrick’s strong opinions, they’re hardly a positive
representation of where hip-hop needs to move to expand out of its limited
demographic. On top of that, several of these characters have intentionally
annoying or teenager-y voices, with “m.A.A.d. City” largely being rapped
through mock voice cracks and a long sequence of “Swimming Pools (Drank)” is
rapped in a voice given a heightened helium effect.
This would be helped by the album’s beats or hooks, were any
especially notable. However, the hooks largely have to be sung by Kendrick, who
is decidedly not a good singer.
Ultimately, the compromise is inoffensive, but it’s unfortunate that some of
these hooks might have been musically interesting. The beats are generally
neo-soul samples a la Kanye West and Dr. Dre, which should be unsurprising;
while Dre supplies no beats of his own, he has executively produced the album,
probably pulling the twelve individual track producers to work together. None
of these beats stand out as much as even the middle-ground of Kanye’s oeuvre, though; to
not be overly comparative, the best beats belong to “Poetic Justice,” “Swimming
Pools (Drank,)” and “Compton,” the best of which inevitably goes to “Compton,”
a saved Just Blaze beat with a hook that recalls “California Love.”
But “Compton” doesn’t even compete with “Heart of the City,”
let alone “California Love,” and it makes one question whether or not good kid, m.A.A.d. city was best told as
an album. It makes me wonder if it would have made a better short film, or
maybe it should be a book in the vein of the works of Richard Wright and his
ilk. Still, hip-hop is the language that good
kid speaks, reads, lives, and breathes, and no version of this story could
be told without Kendrick’s indelible sense of storytelling. I refuse to refer
to this as a masterpiece or a magnum opus; I believe this idea can be greatly
improved upon, and I believe Kendrick himself can do better. But, as it stands,
it’s a great thought.
4/5
HIGHLIGHTS: “m.A.A.d.
city,” “Swimming Pools (Drank),” “Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst”
MISSED OPPORTUNITIES:
“Bitch, Don’t Kill My Vibe,” “Real (feat. Anna Wise)”
So, the Grammys are tonight. I’m probably not going to watch
them. That’s not because I have no interest; on the contrary, I’d love to see
Justin Timberlake, Taylor Swift, and Adele perform, and the performances by
Chuck D and Sting/Bruno Mars sound magnificently weird. But I’d be watching
them alone online (if I can watch them at all) as I don’t have a TV in my room
right now. I’m not clear on whether or not they’re actually going to stream the
broadcast; they are, however, streaming the Red Carpet and the pre-telecast
awards. If I can watch, I might, but the energy will largely be gone from
watching with a room full of people who feel like yelling at the screen when
Kelly Clarkson inevitably wins Song of the Year.
But the Grammys convinced me that it was worth releasing my
(extremely late) 2012 pop music write-up. In case you didn’t already know, I
really do like pop music. Quite a bit, it turns out. While I’ve been working on
listening to albums for review, I’ve been going back to the pop music of 2012
to pick me up when I’m driving or walking from class to class.
2012 has been a pretty strange year for pop music. Two of
the top three Billboard hits of the year were not even definitively “pop
songs,” with the indie rock of Gotye and fun. reshaping the way we think about
pop music. Their efforts would have been ineffective without the work Adele
performed last year, but their style has supplanted Adele’s somewhat, with
groups like Imagine Dragons, Neon Trees, and The Lumineers all netting Top 100
hits. To be clear, this is a year where Rick Ross has officially been chased
off the charts, while Lil Wayne doesn’t have a single song to call his own.
This is kind of crazy.
But let’s hit it. I’m gonna write about my favorite and
least favorite songs and trends of 2012 in regards to pop music. I’m going to
mostly be focusing on songs that released as singles in 2012 that achieved
year-end Hot 100 status. Why “released as singles in 2012?” Well, so I don’t
use this as an opportunity to tell you how glad I am that Rolling in the Deep
is still playing, or that I’m glad songs from Watch The Throne made the
year-end charts. And why “year-end charters?” Also so that I make it clear that
I’m covering “hit” songs, which is more relevant in terms of worst songs than
best. Obviously, there will be more incompetent music released in 2012 than
some of my listed “worsties.” But I can easily cover 100 songs, and so I’m
going to do so.
I…well, I goofed in my treatment of Adele. Sorry, guys. I’ve
come to recognize that “Someone Like You” is a pretty brilliant piece, even if
Adele’s voice on the chorus has issues. Dropped an octave or two, it’s
drop-dead gorgeous from the first note. And Rolling in the Deep should probably sneak up the list at a pretty
rapid rate.
The rest of those best songs? I still like them, but they
haven’t stayed powerful throughout the year. Blow and All of the Lights are
still great songs, but my top two picks have fallen in esteem for me. We Found
Love simply doesn’t have the staying power of “Rude Boy,” and I haven’t had an
itch to listen to “You & I” in almost a year. “Party Rock Anthem” is a song
I’ve grown numb to as well.
I’m glad “The One That Got Away,” and Watch The Throne
eventually saw hit status. That’s already happened for some of the songs that
didn’t make the year-end charts for me, and that’s exciting too.
Ultimately,
most of the trends I posted saw major responses in 2012, too. Let’s get into it
for real.
THE FIVE BEST HIT SONGS OF 2012
5. “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” by Taylor Swift
There was a time where this spot was held by Philip
Phillips’ “Home,” which is a pretty song. But something about the catchy and
goofy “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” is an absolutely fun party
song. It’s also Taylor Swift’s best song construction on a single yet, perhaps
only surpassed by “I Knew You Were Trouble.” She’s getting better as she gets
older, and while her singles reflect a pop focus, she’s doing some interesting
things on her albums, too. There’ll probably be a review at some point.
4. “Die Young” by Ke$ha
I maintain that Ke$ha is the standard bearer for pop music.
“Tik Tok” became a pop-defining smash, creating a song format used in Katy
Perry’s “California Gurls,” Taio Cruz’s “Dynamite,” and P!nk’s “Raise Your
Glass” before also setting a tone for the sing-talk revolution. “Blow” served
as a refreshing blast of synthpop during a period dominated by “Rolling in the
Deep” and “The Lazy Song,” while also laying down the volume required for
“Party Rock Anthem.” It helps that it also carries the first half of the beat
for PSY’s dominant “Gangnam Style” throughout its runtime. Now, with “Die
Young,” Ke$ha’s abandoned the auto-tune, added the kind of drums fun. and
Imagine Dragons banged so hard upon throughout the year, and combined those
things with the basic chord structure of “Levels”/”Good Feeling” while still
crafting one of the best hooks of the year. This is a song that has led to me
hearing a different person declare Ke$ha “a guilty pleasure” once per day for
almost a week straight, and for plenty of the time since its release. But, if
we’re being honest, there’s nothing to be guilty about.
3. “Some Nights” by fun.
Pop music critic Todd in the Shadows probably already put it best,
but I’ll paraphrase; if fun. desperately wants to be Queen, then “Some Nights”
is probably their “Bohemian Rhapsody.” And, if I’m being completely honest with
myself, it actually holds up against some of Queen’s better songs. Sure, it’s
not quite “Somebody to Love,” but it’s a gorgeous and brilliant piece of pop
experimentation. The elements I adore from Kanye’s “Lost in the World” recur
here thanks to the shared DNA of producer Jeff Bhasker.
Anyways, this song is a spot lower than it probably could be
because I really dislike the campy spoken monologue in the song’s center.
2. “Climax” by Usher
This one’s probably 90% Usher’s gorgeous voice, and I have
no issue with that. While there’s lots of smart songwriting (creating a song
about a drawn-out declining relationship named “Climax” that fails to ever
really climax while still containing plenty of sexual moaning is pretty much
the best use of Usher I can imagine) Usher’s voice simply floats throughout.
Diplo’s beat is a great backdrop, too, but I didn’t hear a vocal that came even
close.
1. “Take Care” by Drake & Rihanna
I could probably write on this one for days, and at some
point probably will. Rihanna sounds absolutely smoldering here, and Drake
swings between joyful, loving, melancholy, apologetic, and tortured with absolute
alacrity. His voice, while not a gorgeous voice, is emotional throughout, and
the delivery is pitch-perfect. Jamie xx’s beat sets a great, energetic backdrop
for the performances, and the breakdown after the second verse is absolutely
the best moment for pop music this year. I would go so far as to say I’m
already confident that “Take Care” is one of the best songs ever to show up on
the charts.
THE FIVE WORST HIT SONGS OF 2012
5. “Fifty Ways To Say Goodbye” by Train
Can we let Train go? Please? This song has little redeeming
musical value (some goofy mariachi horns are its buoy,) and its lyrics are
absolutely beyond absurd. It’s nonsense. It doesn’t help that it’s a song about
how, after a non-mutual break-up, the narrator tells all his friends that his ex-girlfriend
is dead because he can’t admit she dumped him. It’s supposed to be funny, but
the jokes don’t play, and Pat Monahan is too old to sell the comedy anyways.
You’re forty three, Pat, and you’re no Jeff Foxworthy, let alone a Jim Gaffigan
or Louis C.K. Try something else.
4. “Drunk On You” by Luke Bryan
Luke Bryan seeks to write a love song, but its lyrics are
just too hammy to sell his superficial lusting. I don’t like coming after
country; it’s full of easy jokes and traps tied to ignorance of the genre. But
I like some country, and this falls well below the standards. The music is very
mediocre, but the lyrics are absolutely crazy bad. Non-rhymes, mhmms, the
absurd “We’ll take it off on out in the water,” it’s just poorly constructed.
Smart songwriting could pull it from the brink, but it’s nowhere to be found.
3. “Work Hard Play Hard” by Wiz Khalifa
This is mostly here as punishment for the second-worst hook
of the year. I have no problem with luxury rap, though nothing here is
especially good. I just never want to hear the “WORK HARD PLAY HARD” part of it
ever again.
2. “Want U Back” by Cher Lloyd
Okay, now, here’s the first song I have trouble actually
sitting through top-to-bottom. Yes, Cher Lloyd is attractive. No, she’s
definitely not cute. She’s obnoxious and immediately reminds me of everything
men think about the women that want to continue a relationship after a
break-up. She can’t sing well enough to carry the song, and the beat is a
muddled rehash of the significantly better “Party in the USA.”
Urgh.
1. “Birthday Cake (Remix)” by Rihanna & Chris Brown
It really speaks for itself. When I reviewed Rihanna’s “Talk
That Talk,” I said I’d be okay with almost any song from the album becoming a
hit single. This was the exception, a lame fragment of a joke track that, it
turns out, would set up for the full single featuring Chris Brown. The
Rihanna/Chris Brown collaboration would be questionable all the same, but Turn
Up The Music is, at least, a semi-decent song. This is not close. It’s truly,
truly awful. Please, please, please take it away.
WISH YOU WERE HERE:Seven songs that might have made my
list, were they hits. Obviously, “Thrift Shop” and “I Knew You Were Trouble”
have decent shots at being 2013 hits, but they absolutely belong. Videos linked
by song title.
WILL BE SAD TO SEE YOU GO: Five songs that were hits in
2012, but released in 2011.
-“Somebody That I Used To Know”
-“Ni**as in Paris” Pretty much the Django Unchained of pop
music. I presumed it could never be a hit, and I was wrong.
-“We Are Young”
-“Lights” Apparently, this song is nearly three years old.
Who knew?
-“Young, Wild, And Free” This, along with “Locked Out Of
Heaven,” have reversed my “Bruno Mars as Worst Trend” statement. So, yay!
BEST TRENDS
-“I Can Listen To All Of This!”
Except for the completely awful “Birthday Cake (Remix,)” I
can at least sit along to almost everything on the radio lately, and I’m
enjoying a ridiculous amount. Searching through the Hot 100 for songs this year
was little work because I’d already heard and enjoyed most of my choices, and
whittling my worsties down was far, far easier than reducing myself to only
five besties.
-“The Singers are Back!”
Last year, I complained that Adele and Lady GaGa were the
only people showing off vocal chops on pop tracks. Now, we have Usher’s most
beautiful vocal yet, Bieber’s voice has come into its own, the indie rock stars
generally have great voices, Ke$ha and Taylor Swift have only gotten better,
and even our new folks like Carly Rae Jepsen and Ellie Goulding were pretty
darn great. Let’s keep this trend up, please.
-“Variety!”
Guys, it’s weird having R&B vocals, rap songs, dubstep
drops, light country, indie rock, synth pop, and whatever we want to call Drake
and Alex Clare all showing up on the radio as a happy family. We even had a
foreign language hit in Gangnam Style. Trends have gone insane.
-“Hard Rap On A Rise!”
“Mercy” is a top 40 year-end hit. Along with “Young, Wild,
& Free” and “Ni**as in Paris.” This is incredible. And inexplicable. I love
it. Let’s keep it up.
-“Death of Empires”
The first hit by an established artist on the top 100
year-end billboard chart is #4, with Maroon 5’s “Payphone.” After that, it’s
#8, with Rihanna’s “We Found Love,” which was a hit last year. Of the top 10
songs, only three are by megafranchise artists.
That’s 30%. Taylor Swift’s highest charter is #33; Adele’s only
brand-new song didn’t even make the list. Usher’s only charting song is at #72
on the charts. We’re finally allowing in new artists en masse, and it’s
fantastic.
WORST TRENDS
-“Radio Just Not Getting It”
Okay, this is the first of two complaints about radio
stations. The radio doesn’t know what to do with all the indie rock and R&B
they’re getting asked to play.
This remix of “Somebody That I Used To Know” says it more
accurately than anything else could.
-“Radio Pushing Junk On Us”
While there’s mostly listenable stuff on the radio right now
and loads of variety, the radio stations themselves worked hard to sell
perceived franchises that have never really been all that huge. I feel like I
was hearing Pitbull and Kelly Clarkson non-stop, only nobody seems to care.
-“2 Chainz”
Look, guys. I don’t care what you guys do in your own time,
but don’t make me listen to 2 Chainz, please? He’s on two hit singles this
year, and that’s not even close to the only 2 Chainz that’s getting radio play.
Unlike other rappers getting play, he’s enthusiastic; he’s also really, really
bad. I can’t imagine he makes the charts often, but I just don’t think he’s cut
out to be a radio staple.
-“Rihanna’s Fall”
What happened, Rih? First she dropped “You Da One” and
“Where Have You Been” at the very start of the year when “We Found Love” was
still massive. Drake also dropped “Take Care” at the same time. Then, she
followed with the awful “Birthday Cake (Remix)” and “Turn Up The Music
(Remix.)” That’s six songs on the radio at once. By the summer, everyone I
talked to was completely sick of Rihanna, and I wasn’t any of her songs other
than “Take Care” on the radio. “Diamonds” came out to almost no fanfare.
Mismanagement of her potential (and legitimately interesting songs!) led
everyone to be completely sick of Rihanna at year’s end. I’ve still got her
poster hanging in my room, but that might not maintain forever.
-“Chris Brown’s Rise”
Chris Brown is on three hit singles this year. He’s still
not good, he’s still a terrible person, and if we’re going to continue to
berate Yeezy for taking a microphone at an awards show and dating/impregnating
Kim Kardashian, we had better continue to berate Chris Brown for his extreme
rage-fueled violence. The worst person in show business.
That, my friends, marks the end of my reflections on 2012
pop music. What’s up for 2013? Lady GaGa is set to release artPOP, which should
definitely be interesting. I’d be shocked if new Drake, Adele, and Katy Perry
albums don’t happen in 2013 as well. Whatever happens, it’ll be interesting to
see how we follow up the revolution that was 2012. Thanks for reading,
everybody.
Prod. by Frank Ocean,
Malay, Om’mas Keith, Pharrell
The sensation that is Frank Ocean’s Channel Orange seems to
have somewhat come and gone. While there was an extreme amount of excitement
for the album at the time of its release, the lasting musical contribution from
July has been PSY’s “Gangnam Style,” a possible “classic” that deserves its own
write-up. It’s refreshing to be able to review the album without evangelists
shouting about how it’s saving the world of pop and R&B music.
It’s also extremely helpful, because I really like it.
Channel Orange is an album that displays some huge
potential, should Frank Ocean succeed at combining his best features regularly
enough to make an entire album as strong as the best songs on Orange. There are
some smart lyrics, some gorgeous melodies, some really high-quality
instrumentations and beats to back them up, and then there’s some absolutely
fantastic singing to soar through it all. And while the stars don’t really
align often enough to combine all of those things, the majority of the work on
Channel Orange is compelling.
Attempting to apply any hard and fast rules beyond the
quality of Ocean’s voice is facile, as every single one of them has an
exception. But, generally speaking, the album does follow a structure. The
first seven or eight songs are more hip-hop styled songs focusing primarily on
young kids who have everything and waste it on apathy, drug use, frivolous sex,
and suicidal thoughts. After that, the album primarily explores the ideas of
unfulfilling relationships through guitar-fusion and Drake-style R&B.
While a reading of the album as an exploration of the last
twenty years or so of hip-hop is entirely possible as well, it probably makes
the most sense to see the album as the personal accounts of Frank Ocean. Ocean wrote
the lyrics while his friend Malay wrote the majority of the music, and both
will hopefully have a storied continuous career together. The beats on the
first half of the album are generally rather fun and upbeat, with “Sweet Life”
being the most fun one can find on the album.
But, in many ways, the album would benefit from having about
5 or 6 less songs than it currently has. For one thing, the first seven songs
pretty much all focus on the same ideas, and the shorter interludes (apart from
the fascinating intro) fail to add much thematic definition. They’re not “bad,”
just distracting, and they artificially add to the ridiculous track count on
the album. The ten-minute “Pyramids” is the bridge between the two halves, and it’s
probably five minutes too long. The latter half of the album is intentionally
slow, and while it contains my absolute vocal highlight (“Bad Religion”,) it
fails to captivate like the first half. One song, “Pink Matter,” has received a
remix since release featuring a verse from Big Boi leading into Andre 3000’s,
and Andre’s delivery makes far more sense when his old OutKast compatriot sets
the tone for delivery. Apparently, Big Boi’s verse was originally recorded for
the album, but Andre requested Ocean remove it from the official release. This
was a mistake.
In terms of establishing itself as an album to be heard, these
issues will vary from mildly frustrating to niggling details. Fans of falsetto
singers, especially in R&B and pop, should absolutely check out Channel
Orange. While my issues keep it from entering my permanent lexicon, it’s an
album I enjoy quite a bit, and will probably never object to listening through with
a partner.
It’s obviously worth
noting that I come into these Rush reviews with a slightly predetermined
mindset. In any review of the band Rush’s music, I will do my best to displace
my previous distaste for the band, but I will repeatedly make it clear that, in
the past, Rush has most certainly not been my thing, and I am here to challenge
that idea and try to enjoy a band millions around the world revere.
Well, I did it. I finally finished my guided tour through
Rush’s highlights. It’s been a long time coming, but I’ve made it to the other
end. Some probably expected I’d learn something really edifying or vindicating
in listening through Rush’s albums.
But, ultimately, all I’ve come to discover is that this band
is not for me. At least, not in the 70’s. Maybe one day I’ll check out their
later material, but none of the three albums impressed me far beyond my
expectations.
2112, the half-concept album of Rush’s early years, is by
far the album I liked least in my experience with the band. It’s ultimately
just the 2112 suite coupled with a pretty significant list of filler that
refuses to fit into the concept. Everything on the album other than the suite
is lower in innovation and quality than anything on Fly By Night or Moving Pictures, including the kind-of-terrible-but-still-endearing “By-Tor and the
Snow Dog.” There’s nothing to point out as especially notable on the back half.
It’s all just completely bland. The only piece worthy of any kind of note is
2112.
Alone, as an album, that ultimately dictates the kind of
score I’m going to give it. So, I’m going to tell you, absolutely don’t buy the
album unless you’re a hardcore fan of the kind of music Rush releases on their
20-or-so other albums. But, I’m going to tell you that you should absolutely
listen to “2112.” It’s at times a beautiful acoustic piece that showcases the
best Geddy Lee vocals I’ve yet witnessed by Rush. At other times, it’s a
relatively high-energy but ultimately boring prog anthem, but these sequences
move without consequence. And, last but certainly not least, it’s a
master-class in displaying when singing “in-character” can go too far.
It’s kind of amazing, really. The ultimate obstacle to me
enjoying Rush has been Geddy Lee’s voice, and yet his singing in the
“discovery” sequences of 2112 is actually quite pretty, so far as rock singers
are concerned. And they also destroy the piece, as the sections in which he
sings as the “monks” scared me away years ago with their extremely shrill
screaming. I refuse to believe someone can enjoy the sound of Lee’s screech on “2112.”
It’s believably in character, helping to establish that the monks are
oppressive and nobody should like them. But it’s absolutely too much, and the
fact that it gets equal share with the discovery sequences causes the song to
fall apart.
The prog sections make up most of the transitions between
the “monk” sequences and the “discovery” sequences, and they’re mostly bland.
There’s some more really great technical guitar work by Alex Lifeson, but these
sequences just don’t add much to the soul or thematic content of the piece. As
a result, the 2112 suite is ultimately as flawed as the record it sits upon in
my eyes, but it’s a musically solid song with some absolute highs.
It’s obviously worth
noting that I come into these Rush reviews with a slightly predetermined
mindset. In any review of the band Rush’s music, I will do my best to displace
my previous distaste for the band, but I will repeatedly make it clear that, in
the past, Rush has most certainly notbeen my thing, and I am here to challenge that
idea and try to enjoy a band millions around the world revere.
Sound the alarm; I really, really like parts of Fly By
Night. As an album, it’s as deeply flawed as Moving Pictures, and the highs
aren’t quite as high as “Tom Sawyer.” But Fly By Night exposes a Rush that is
more interested in other people’s music than their own; only a couple of the
songs on Fly By Night sound like definitive Rush anthems, while the rest seem
to be Rush taking on other people’s sounds. Some of these experiments turn out
really, really awesome; others work less well.
First, what works; “Anthem” and “Best I Can” are a
rollicking force that is undeniable. “Anthem” is more mathematical than most of
what appears on this album, but like “Limelight,” the band mostly stays
together, letting guitarist Alex Lifeson take the lead instrumentation on the
song. Geddy Lee and Neil Peart keep their rhythm in check, but the vocal by Lee
is still grating on “Anthem.” It’s not enough to ruin the slick, somewhat
blues-y ride, but a performance with a better vocalist would be highly
engaging. Peart, in particular, manages to produce a drum beat that is fun to
listen to without being overwhelming, a task Peart can find difficulty
accomplishing. It’s moments like “Anthem” that let me remember Peart’s talent
rather than find myself aggravated with his arrogance.
Honestly, though, I don’t think there’s a band that would
top Rush’s performance of “Best I Can,” a song that is so non-definitively Rush
that I wish, wish, WISH this had been their direction all along. “Best I Can”
absolutely reeks of a fusion of blues-driven hard rock and pop rock at the same
time; think the world’s best fusion of AC/DC and Elton John’s “The Bitch Is
Back,” however anachronistic that may be. Lee is singing a harder, deeper vocal
than usual as well, with a voice echoing Bon Scott and Brian Johnson on their
best days. In case you can’t tell, I’m absolutely floored by how much I like “Best
I Can,” down to its very Joe Perry riffs, its absolutely killer instrumentation
on the hook, and a sweet guitar solo
by Lifeson. While I can understand that it’s lacking in iconic moments (see “Tom
Sawyer” drum fills, “Spirit of Radio” opening, etc.) it’s a fun, fun song.
There are a couple other songs that work, though not nearly as
well as “Best I Can.” The third track, “Between, Beneath, and Behind,” is a fun
(if overly mathematical) high-tempo jam. Moments of it remind me of “Ballroom
Blitz,” but I would definitely rather listen to the Sweet classic every time;
the hook’s attack is repetitive very, very quickly, leaving me indifferent
every time. And “Making Memories” contains some quality guitar work as an attempt
to take on the style of southern rock outfits like Lynyrd Skynyrd; Lifeson
really nails that impression in the solo, which is highly technical and filled
with twang. The rest of the song is a pretty fun acoustic jam with some great
bass work by Lee.
Now, while half the impressions work shockingly well, the rest
struggles to excite or entice me. “By-Tor And The Snow Dog” begins with a
relatively unimpressive and standard Rush jam, which is too calculated and
mathematical for my tastes; Lee’s vocal is shakier on this song than any other,
as well. The second half of the song contains a long psychedelic jam, perhaps
an attempt to capture what fellow “prog” outfit Pink Floyd had been up to on
Meddle and Dark Side of the Moon, but it fails miserably to sound like anything
other than aimless noodling. Considering there’s plenty of Pink Floyd that
sounds the same way, I can’t blame them for failing, but it is still a failed
experiment. Unlike some of these other songs, no member manages to do anything
especially memorable or impressive, leaving “By-Tor” bloated and flaccid. These
same words, bloated and flaccid, would probably describe my feelings on the
rest of the album.
Of course, most people are probably surprised I’m not very
into “Fly By Night,” the album’s lead single and title track. And it’s not bad,
it’s just very, very boring. It’s distasteful to me for many of the same
reasons I didn’t like “Vital Signs” or “Witch Hunt”; the song is aimless math
gone awry, never really letting itself find an identity or escape the confines
of its prison. The guitar solo is fine, but it fails to impress much more than
your average Journey guitar solo, a comparison that is not complimentary.
“Rivendell” intrigues me, though. Now that there’s Peter
Jackson’s Lord of the Rings to define that saga, perhaps it’s impossible for me
to truly sift back into the world of Tolkein’s imagination, but “Rivendell”
does momentarily evoke a very small amount of the energy I remember feeling
towards The Hobbit. That said, it’s miserably performed by Lee’s weak vocal, it’s
excessively long at almost 5 minutes, and nothing changes after the first
chorus is reached. But if “Rivendell” were one of the few windows into Tolkein’s
world, I could imagine that it’s a relatively decent success in that
department.
Overall, Fly By Night is an interesting sonic collection,
especially for fans of Rush. It’s this moment in musical history when Rush didn’t
really know who they wanted to be. This is the moment just before Rush became
one of the most ego-centric, sonically self-feeding bands in the world; this is
when they were listening to everyone else and putting together anything that
stuck. It’s exciting for the same reason Rubber Soul is a fascinating hinge in
the career of The Beatles, or for the same reason we should all be excited for
Green Day’s ¡Uno!/ ¡Dos!/ ¡Tres!
trilogy, or Muse’s electro-heavy The 2nd Law. And while Rush’s
impressions mostly pale in comparison to the originators of the style, some of
these impressions are worth hearing on their own merits.
3/5
HIGHLIGHTS: “Anthem,”
“Best I Can,” “Making Memories”
MISSED OPPORTUNITIES: “By-Tor And The Snow Dog,” “Fly By Night,” “Rivendell”
NEXT STOP: Aerosmith, “Toys In The Attic”
AFTER THAT: Elton John, “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road”
I’m in the midst of preparing my Rush “Fly By Night” review.
It’s in pure stream-of-consciousness notes mode. That’s not a process I
normally uphold, but within the first moments of Fly By Night, I knew that kind
of attention would be required. So, I have two pages of notes on the album.
They total to about 1200 words, which I’d probably reduce to 600-800 and then
expand to 800-1000. I know what score I’d give the album, and I’m already
pretty happy with my write-up process thus far.
However, I’m feeling very ambivalent about the process of
reviews. And, in some small way, it’s because of Tony Scott. Very long read after the jump, but I'd very much appreciate your readership.
