Album Review: Muse -The Resistance (2009)

There is a lot a Muse fan could dislike about The Resistance. Typical Muse fair, such as Chris’s heavy distorted bass lines, and Matt’s falsetto vocals and heavy guitar riffs all take a back seat on this fifth studio album. In their stead is an album that is filled with a swelling orchestra and a more held back simplistic feel despite the addition of some 20 extra instruments. In essence the album feels more simplistic and stripped down despite a more audacious design. This could be the closest Muse has come to a concept album (Apparently they declared before it's release that they were trying new things, so no huge surprises).

Muse is no stranger to songs relying on Matt’s paranoia about aliens, government conspiracies, brainwashing and cover-ups. The Resistance only strives to take this a step forward with Matt stating in the liner notes that many of the songs are based on books such as George Orwell’s 1984. Upon listing to even the first song on the album it’s hard to miss the connection between Muse and an Orwellian universe.

The album opens with their first single, Uprising. The title tells you what you are in for: a heavy rock march with Matt singing about paranoia and preaching that “they will not control us”. This is perhaps the most Muse like song on the entire album. Chris (Bass and vocals) and Dominic (Drums) pound out the heaviest rhythm section of the entire album. Matt’s vocals hold the song together, and only towards the end does his guitar playing show up. His solo is perhaps a bit weaker then normal for him, but it suits the song nicely. While the solo works, it is a shame that he doesn’t push himself for more, since there is so little lead guitar on the rest of the album.

Following up Uprising is the title track, Resistance, which starts off with a string and kettle drum section that could fit into any sci-fi/action movie soundtrack. Eventually the pace picks up and loads up into a song, which Matt based entirely on the love relationship between the two main characters of 1984: Winston and Julia. It’s a strong song, but it could be easy to miss that it was Muse who wrote and performed it.

Undisclosed Desires, the next song on the album is where things get a bit weird. Influenced by modern R’n’B and a bit of David Bowie this song bares almost no resemblance to any Muse outing before it. It starts with plucking strings and a smooth beat mixed with a bit of synth and then really goes no where else, except for some more synth during the chorus. It is perhaps the least Muse like song on the album and as Matt described it, “it is something totally different for the band.”

The next few songs jump all over the musical horizon. The first half of United States of Eurasia, sounds remarkably like Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody, but then changes quickly to feature a more middle-eastern style of music. It finishes with a Nocturne in E-flat – a rather slow and beautiful classical piano piece. This blends directly into Guiding Light, which starts off like the Killers, ends like U2 and features a Queen style guitar solo.

Perhaps realizing that they may have left behind what could be considered Muse style music, the next song Unnatural Selection returns to a more typical Muse rock sound. However, even this song, which features a lead guitar riff that bears resemblance to New Born, still can’t escape sounding a bit like another band…in this case System of a Down. Mk Ultra, the next track, remains sounding very much like Muse but isn’t exactly memorable. I belong to you (+ Mon Coeur S’ouvre a Ta Voix) is perhaps the most unusual piece on the entire album. Influenced by “silly circus sounds” and Sgt. Peppers, this piece can only be described as Matt and the guys having some fun with a jazz flair. However, before moving on there are two important points about this song that must be made. Firstly, the middle of the song incorporates an aria from the 19^th century Opera Samson and Dellah, which is blended into the song seamlessly. Secondly, this is only the second rock song that I know of to incorporate a bass clarinet solo (the first being a song about rocks…).

Muse could have ended the album at this point which would have left the audience with a handful of strong if somewhat un-muse like songs and a very strong desire to go back to listen to either of their last two albums to get their Muse fix. However, the album includes 3 more songs (or in reality 3 parts of the same song). Matt wrote a 3 part symphony which alone makes buying and listening to this album worth it. Exogenesis, which features a story of destruction and redemption, is absolutely beautiful. The base of all three songs is that of a typical orchestra - strings, brass and percussion - but also contains more contemporary instruments, such as electric guitar, bass and haunting vocals. All three pieces include piano sections from classical composers that are blended in perfectly. Even if you don’t like the rest of the album, spend sometime listing to the symphony - You won’t regret it.

The first time I listened to The Resistance I was disappointed. All the elements that had drawn me to Muse were either gone or nearly muted. The second time I listened to it, I started to hear the subtleties of the album. The third time I couldn’t stop listening to it. Sure there are weak songs - Undisclosed Desires for one - but the strong pieces -Uprising, Resistance, and the symphony, Exogenesis - more then make up for them.

After listening to the album more then a dozen times over the last week, I can’t quite help feeling that Muse entered into the making of this album wanting to do something different. Perhaps they wanted to take a break from the heavy rock, or perhaps they just wanted to give the classical elements of their music the front row it deserved. Either way, they have created an album that is both strong and impressive…it just may take a few listens to realize it.

- Far Side

Album Review: Cracker - Greenland (2006)

Album Review: Cracker - Greenland (2006)

In listening to the lyrics of “Ain’t Gonna Suck Itself” (the only original track on Cracker’s 2003 covers album Countrysides), it’s clear that after 2002’s Forever, the band was dropped and effectively screwed over by Virgin Records, the major label they had been with since their debut a decade prior. At that point, the band could have gone in several directions. First, it could fold; second, it could retaliate immediately with an angry and mediocre album; third, it could find a solution, so they found a solution… Actually, in all seriousness they took the long but high road, effectively cooling off for a period of years while the bitterness lost its sting. This is a precarious path, as it runs the risk of the audience forgetting the band, but for a band like Cracker, any fans that remained at this point would prolly remain forever (pun semi intended even though this is about a different album). Still, after three long years in the wilderness, Cracker re-emerged in 2006 with what is undoubtedly their most ambitious and mature work to date; enter the Greenland.

For a band that spent most of their career churning out records that relied heavily on alcohol and irony (and not to mention tongues planted firmly in cheeks), it’s ironic in itself that they should find sincerity with their career lying bloody and unconscious on a bar room floor. But listening to the opening shuffle of the surprisingly poignant “Something You Ain’t Got” reveals a sort of melancholy that permeates the album. The album doesn’t rock, but instead marches to a sort of funeral procession, one indicative of Cracker’s post-2000 misfortunes. Absent are the usual punk-folk blitzes; gone are the pleasantly drunken ballads; barely to be found are the mid-tempo cruisers. Instead we have an ironically sobering collage of indie-psychedelic songs that swirl, drone, and combust. Johnny Hickman’s iconic blues lead guitar is practically untraceable, replaced here with layered organs and dissonance, which is almost blasphemous. While the band certainly started expanding its musical horizons with Forever, Greenland feels like a conscious commitment to change, not an inconsistent spattering of half-assed stylistic flirtations. It’s the first Cracker album of its kind, and quite possibly the last. For a band that cut most of its albums from the same cloth, this is an atypical surprise right out of left field. Indeed, the only thing truly Cracker about it are the obtuse lyrics of David Lowery, but even here they seem to have more weight and less humor. This all being said, however, Greenland is an excellent Cracker album.

Anomalous even outside of the Cracker universe is the fact that the album is amazingly dense and ambitious for a freshmen indie release. But it works so well; the songs flow together in a way previously inconceivable for a Cracker release. It’s the closest the band has come to a concept album, and while it’s essentially a self-serving concept, songs like “Where Have Those Days Gone” and “I Need Better Friends” sparkle with a self-awareness through a wake mentality. The darker epics, “Sidi Ifni” and “Minotaur” feel like journeys through Hades, while “Better Times Are Coming Our Way” trudges like a post-apocalyptic chant. Only on the other side of this sonic abyss does the Cracker we know and love seem to make an appearance. With the Cracker current events update “Everybody Gets One For Free” and the album closer “Darling We’re Out Of Time,” said band seems to come out of the haze, albeit a little older and wiser.

In the end, it’s difficult to know what to make of Greenland. It’s definitely one of the band’s best albums, maybe even their best; but it’s so different that comparing it to their standard classics (i.e. Cracker (1992) and Kerosene Hat (1993)) seems erroneous. Also, given the fact that the band has since returned to its musical roots with Sunrise in the Land of Milk And Honey (2009), Greenland feels more and more like a wondrous fluke that logically shouldn’t be the work of Cracker. Whatever pains the band has gone through; this is a testament to their resolve and survivalism. With that, it’s prolly just safer to leave it at this: Cracker took a long hard cold trip to Greenland, and then they came back.

4/5

"I know that our last record / Didn’t do very well / But now we’re back on the block / With our freedom rock"

McS

TV Show Review: Disney's Adventures of the Gummi Bears - Season 2 (1986)

TV Show Review: Disney's Adventures of the Gummi Bears - Season 2 (1986)

With the initial round [season one] of Gummi Bears, Disney proved that they could produce a cartoon television series that held an underlying narrative. Of course, this was at a time before such series existed, but they managed it, combining classic Disney knowhow with the new medium, which resulted in a show that both educated and entertained. The success of this trial run was rewarded with not one but five subsequent seasons, which ran the course of the show’s intended story arc, making it the longest running Disney series of its kind to date, and deservedly so. It seems rare (especially now) that quality prevails, but fortunately, in season two, it’s clear that Disney knew what it had and that they weren’t going to let it go.

Leaner and meaner, season two has fewer episodes than before, but nearly all of them deal with the primary story arc. It’s not to say that season one had filler episodes, because most of those stand alones provided useful character development. But that was the point of season one, to introduce the series. Season two, on the other hand, can’t just be a holding pattern, it needs to propel the story while offering new challenges, and that is exactly the case here. The technical development is also apparent at the very onset of season two. While season one had a crude yet sufficient animation style, season two feels smoother and more refined. The backgrounds are richer and the colors are warmer. In addition, the character animation is more realized, with improved movement and a greater attention to detail. Even the sound is better! The action scenes are more complex and the storyboards are more intricate, all without losing any of the creativity. In fact, there’s even more creativity, with a higher degree of focus to contain all of the show’s assets. All in all, it’s clear that Disney was throwing more money at the series, and the creators were using it wisely.

If season one dealt with introducing the Gummi Bears to humans (both the audience and the internal characters), then season two deals with the Gummi Bears addressing this exposure. The excitement and optimism previously exhibited by the bears in the first season has now given way to frustration and a greater degree of loneliness. Despite having made friends with a select few human, so much more is at stake as the villain Duke Igthorn is no longer in the dark about the existence of both the bears and their power. Indeed, the frequency and severity of skirmishes between the bears and Igthorn’s forces has increased from before, yet the bears must continue to hide from the humans of Dunwyn as it would only complicate an already complicated situation.

Another interesting aspect of season two is its inward eye. Both the myth of the Gummies and the individual characters are deconstructed and reinforced. If the bears weren’t considered quasi-superheroes before, it’s certainly a possibility now, as their planning, evading, fighting, and magic skills have all significantly developed out of necessity (that and also that there’s more to their lives than simply hiding and surviving). This point becomes all the more relevant when the young male Cubbi channels his longing knighthood ambitions into a hyperbolic superhero alter ego (superego if you will), the Crimson Avenger, which allows Cubbi to fight his way into the hearts and minds of Dunwyn’s residents, with his masked appearance being a more acceptable concept for humans (and the only way Cubbi can roam free in broad daylight). Other interesting circumstances include the villain sidekick Toadie developing a soft spot for the young female Sunni after she cautiously saves his life. Even the character of Duke Igthorn is addressed, where we find out that his childhood home still exists in a condemned state within Dunwyn. Like all good stories, more questions are raised than answered, creating several interesting plotlines for future seasons to resolve.

The most significant and enticing quandary of the season is, not surprisingly, the original one, the Gummies themselves, and the hook for season two is that it’s bookended by the appearance of two new bears. In the season opener “Up, Up, and Away,” we are introduced to Chummi, a solo adventurer traveling by zeppelin in search of the Gummi civilization across the sea. When his airship is attacked by Igthorn, the Gummi Glen Gummies (as the original six are now known by) take him in. Once the airship is repaired, Chummi resumes his journey, unable to physically take all of the Glen Gummies with him. This no doubt sets the tone for the season. In the season finale “My Gummi Lies over the Ocean,” Tummi builds a boat that takes him and Gruffi to an isolated volcanic island where they meet and take home the artistic and slightly crazy Gusto, and his pet toucan Artie Deco. What’s really interesting here is the discovery of other isolated Gummies, and the suggestion of other isolated Gummi collectives, like the Glen Gummies. This, of course, is great fuel for the next season. In the end, season two leaves both the Gummies and the audience with an insatiable hunger to learn the extent of the Gummi mystery, something that only gets better over the next four years.

McS

Album Review: The Wallflowers - Bringing Down the Horse (1996)

The Wallflowers - Bringing Down the Horse (1996)



Maybe it was a good thing that The Wallflower’s 1992 self-titled debut was a commercial disappointment; maybe it was a good thing that most of the band departed in the aftermath of their label dropping them, but it would have been a difficult crossroads. Most bands might have just called it a day, saying that they had made a solid effort but that it was time to grow up and do something real. The very fact that they had made a major label album in impressive enough, so bowing out then would have certainly been a very logical choice, and not at all dishonorable. Of course, no such towel was thrown. Thank God!

Opting to take the ever uncertain path to second chances, Jakob Dylan and Rami Jaffee decided to continue instead of quite, thereby rebuilding the band from the ground up. During this lengthy four year process, grunge waned and alt-rock ascended, launching bands like Cracker, Gin Blossoms, and Counting Crows into the spotlight. At this point, the band satiated its depleted ranks and refashioned itself as a dark yet driving force on the roots side of alt-rock, shedding the laborious-to-love twang soaked nuances of The Wallflowers without sacrificing the heart and soul of the songs. In essence, they cut the gamey fat and polished the meat, all the while honing their craft. The Wallflowers didn’t really change their sound; they just refined it.

Of course, none of this would have mattered had it not paid off, but it did, and the result was Bringing Down the Horse (1996), a true 90s classic that wore the rare double badge of “well deserved” and “well received,” not to mention it being a beacon for second chances and embodying the antithesis of the sophomore slump. All in all, the album just works, providing a definitive album for the genre, decade, and band (even if it might not be their best). Every track on the album is excellent and accessible (in the good way), meaning that Horse works both as a list of its parts and a sum of its parts, which is in no way obscured by the four juggernaut singles it produced. The success of the rambling yet miraculously well executed “6th Avenue Heartache” and “Three Marlenas” is well deserved, and the rocking “The Difference” is no doubt one of the band’s finest moments, but it’s the flawless “One Headlight” where it’s clear everything just clicked. That song alone could propel any album, but The Wallflowers were more than able to justify the single’s massive impact, because the rest of the album is pure gold. Other standouts include the mid tempo “Bleeders,” the rocking “Angel on my Bike” and the ethereal “Invisible City.” Despite the album’s varied musical tapestries, the lyrical themes conjure darker tones and imagery; a place where Dylan has always seemed comfortable. And while their debut felt like an objective storybook, Horse feels oddly personal, channeling ghosts of the past to incredibly moving vignettes. Despite the noir subject matter, nothing is forced, but instead canonized, as it is ultimately timeless.

By most accounts, Bringing Down the Horse is the true beginning for The Wallflowers (but their self-title debut is still relevant and quite impressive). It did more then just put them on the musical map, it blew up the map. And while the band has produced subsequent material that is arguably superior in both quality and ambition, they have not been able to replicate Horse’s commercial success or impact, meaning that this album will be their primary marker on the musical globe, and you could certainly do worse. Bringing Down the Horse is arguably the best folk-rock album of the 90s; let’s just hope that Jakob et al. have, by now, found it in their dark hearts to pat themselves on the back for this truly sterling accomplishment.

4.5/5

"This invisible city / Where no one sees nothing / We're touching faces in the dark / Feelin' pretty is so hard"

McS