2006-11 Vital Source Mag – November 2006
The Who
By Jon M. Gilbertson Strictly speaking, Endless Wire is the first full Who album in 24 years. But strictly speaking, it’s not an album made by the Who. And while it may be true that nobody is absolutely irreplaceable, the dearly departed Who rhythm section of drummer Keith Moon and bassist John Entwistle come close. So what, or Who, remains? These days it’s just singer Roger Daltrey and guitarist, songwriter and general mastermind Pete Townshend. With the support of a few other musicians, politely listed in “Principal” and “Guest” classifications, they continue the group name. The recognizable group sound is another matter. Age is a sigificant but not overwhelming part of the complication. Daltrey has never had an overtly beautiful voice, but he’s always had a hoarse sort of expressiveness, and that hasn’t changed. Townshend has, for obvious reasons (hearing impairment, for one), muted his power chords, but can still find a precise electric blues line or an eloquently simple acoustic progression. Townshend does less well, however, when trying to frame the songs that rely for support upon whatever melodies he can wrest from his guitar(s). The latter half of Endless Wire is taken up with “Wire & Glass,” a mini-opera (not a la “A Quick One While He’s Away” ) that seems constantly to be looking back on old, familiar themes: rock & roll, the deceptive innocence of youth, the inexorable decay of years. The themes are not without interest, but Townshend can’t make them coalesce. He never really could, as proven by Tommy and Quadrophenia and even his solo album White City, but that music was strong enough to leap the narrative and intellectual gaps. This music – even the first half of Endless Wire, which is given over to more various thoughts and more varied songs than “Wire & Glass” – favors sub-thematic structure over genuine artistry. The most glaring difference between the modern Who and the old Who, besides the absent cohorts, is that their music now offers moments and flashes rather than journeys and explosions. It presents the lovely bitter folk music of “A Man in a Purple Dress” and the soft coda of “Tea & Theatre.” In another 24 years, Who’s Next and Empty Glass will probably remain in the collective memory. Endless Wire probably won’t.
Nov 1st, 2006 by Vital Archives
Lloyd Cole
By Blaine Schultz Lloyd Cole and the Commotions’ 1984 debut album, Rattlesnakes, garnered a good amount of airplay (both on college radio and MTV) and press. In the years that followed, this competent record would be lionized as a masterpiece. In hindsight, the dude had a ways to go. Twenty-plus years and a dozen albums find Cole releasing another sophisticated pop album. Or mature pop album. Or literate pop album. Let’s just say that, lyrically, Cole comes across as pretty sincere… verging on humorless. He is content to merely litter the landscape – dropping hip, young urban references whenever he gets the chance. His jumbles of words come off like a blatant attempt to impress the listener. Covering Moby Grape’s “I Am Not Willing,” he sings of a romantic breakup: “I’m so grateful, no longer willing to have a home,” relieved that she gave him a reason to split. The very next song, “Slip Away,” offers this: “I propose an exit strategy… to slip into the ether where I belong.” Maybe only a true artist can blur the lines between woe-is-me and self-satisfied sneer. Maybe Lloyd Cole is that artist… Maybe. But a typical album is a good year’s hard work, so let’s not pitch this disc into the landfill just yet. Musically and sonically, the album is brilliant. The stylish arrangements build on Cole’s modern folk tunes, adding brushed drums here, textured keyboards there and even a richly impressive string section on a few tracks. Rhythms lean toward bossa nova, while subtle loops and delayed guitar riffs add to the palette. If you can get beyond the lyrics, Antidepressant would be perfect listening in a Starbucks or Barnes & Noble.
Nov 1st, 2006 by Vital Archives
Joanna Newsom
By Erin Wolf When one insists on being called a “harper” rather than a harpist and becomes peeved when told that one sounds “childlike” (“Bjork-ish,” too) even though the description is nail-on-the-head, it’s obvious one’s perception of oneself is a tad bit off-kilter. Some would call this stubborn, some would call it quirky; most would call it self-absorbed. This self-absorption, though, is just what makes Joanna Newsom’s music work. Her first two EPs and full-length album, The Milk-Eyed Mender, were studies of self-absorption, created from a world not known to anyone other than the 24-year-old herself, characterized by music and lyrics straight out of the writings of Homer and a “childlike” voice more like a infantile gnome with a bad cold piped in between harp pluckings. To write music that sounds centuries old, the writer must obviously not be spending too much time watching television. Going from the intriguing base that is her first album, Newsom’s latest, Ys, is a wash of strings and rich orchestral sounds, surrounding the ever-plucky “harper’s” own string manipulations and warbling. Ys was produced and mixed by Steve Albini (!) and Jim O’Rourke, and adding even more magical elements with string arrangements was Van Dyke Parks of Beach Boys fame. Blending lyrics that are pure poetry (“there is a rusty light on the pines tonight / sun pouring wine, lord, or marrow / down into the bones of the birches and the spires of the churches”) and music arranged in a manner that resembles an old school Disney score takes incredible patience and craft. It also takes incredible patience on the listener’s part, as most of the songs clock in between 7 and 17 minutes long. It is worth it to be patient with Ys, though. It is an album meant to be reflected upon, for it has definite stories to tell. There’s a slim to none chance that the five songs featured here will ever make it to Top 40 radio, but this is just exemplary of the diamond in the rough quality Ys possesses.
Nov 1st, 2006 by Vital Archives
And trade “them” for what?
By Jon Anne Willow Dear Readers, Being a monthly publication has its disadvantages of timing. Never is this more apparent to me than when I have to write this column before a momentous event, knowing most people won’t read it until after. Such is the case with these midterm elections. As of this morning, both liberal and conservative think tanks are predicting that Democrats will pick up 18-22 seats in the House (15 are needed for a majority) and 2-3 seats in the Senate (of the six needed for a majority). In short, by the time you read this, it’s likely that Democrats will take back one of the houses and hold a stronger position in the other. It would seem that change is in the air. But I’m troubled. The other evening, VITAL hosted a screening of Robert Greenwald’s Iraq For Sale: The War Profiteers to a packed room at Bremen Café. Granted, this is pretty far-left stuff, attracting mostly those who already know they’re mad as hell and aren’t going to take it anymore, so I wasn’t surprised that the lively talkback session after the film touched on wholesale revolution in the streets. But as PeaceAction’s George Martin whipped up the crowd with enthusiastically rejoined calls to “Send them home!” I couldn’t help but ask: And trade “them” for what? Is our collective memory so short that we’ve forgotten that Republicans rode into Washington in 1994 as reformists, vowing to end a very real decade of Democratic power-mongering and scandal? Does anyone recall that even though Democrats are campaigning on Bush’s poor handling of the “War on Terror,” 145 of 211 Democratic Representatives voted in favor of the 2001 USA PATRIOT Act and only one Senator against? Or that 66 Democrats in the House voted in favor of the reauthorization in 2005 and only three Democratic Senators against? Are we impressed today by Congressmen like Sherrod Brown (D-Ohio), who positions himself as the “People’s Defender” yet voted in favor of Bush’s recent evisceration of the Constitution as it pertains to prisoners of war? Will Democratic voters, at some point, acknowledge the irony of their present mood? Let’s put this in perspective. This election serves one very valuable purpose: to restore some modicum of party balance within the three branches of our federal government. But a Democratic House will not have the power to make sweeping changes to our domestic policies on health, education, jobs, campaign reform and the federal budget. And even if the will to do so is there, this cash-strapped nation is so committed to military spending at this point that to withdraw significant funding from the war to reallocate it to domestic interests would potentially put the lives of our deployed soldiers in even greater peril. I’ll lay down money that few Democrats with future political aspirations will take up that charge, for fear of alienating their home base and drawing easy fire from angry, organized Republicans. It’s all very interesting. While I applaud the […]
Nov 1st, 2006 by Jon Anne Willow
Anders Parker
By Frank Olson On his self-titled album, former Varnaline frontman Anders Parker displays a knack for capturing a lonely highway vibe not dissimilar to The Rolling Stones on their old country songs. Parker, though, is neither as engaging as Mick Jagger nor as good a songsmith as the Glimmer Twins, which, while not a criticism in itself, casts a long shadow for Parker to sidestep. The end result is a singer-songwriter album with dreary, light-grunge singing and forgettable songwriting. There are a few decent songs here, including the opening “Circle Same,” which uses a looping structure to give the standard going-nowhere lyrics more weight, and “False Positive,” which marries a tightly-coiled verse section to a George Harrison-esque chorus. But even these bright spots seem more the work of a good producer (Adam Lasus, who has worked with Clem Snide) and a good band (including former members of Uncle Tupelo and the Jayhawks) than of the spotlight talent. The album’s best moments are the ones that allow the band to stretch out and reshape the generally uninteresting songs. A dramatic electric guitar/steel pedal duet ends the otherwise dull “Dear Sara;” instrumental breaks change up the pace of “Airport Road;” thundering percussion underlines a sensitive pedal steel solo in “Under Wide Unbroken Skies.” But these moments are few, and most of Anders Parker is dominated by generic alt-country songs and lyrics that often literally sound like Hallmark cards.
Nov 1st, 2006 by Vital Archives
Art during wartime
By Amy Elliott + Illustrations for Terror Chic by Joy Harmon (top) and Kristopher Pollard (bottom) In 1932, Betty Gow was accused of a playing role in the now infamous kidnapping of the Lindbergh baby. The Scottish nursemaid was never tried, though conspiracy theories about her involvement persist. Seventy-four years later, the incorrigible Ms. Gow is back – in Milwaukee, organizing her creatively inclined friends for Terror Chic 11/9, a showcase of art, fashion, and music in response to life during wartime. The show – and the alias – is the brainchild of teacher, writer, artist and all-around jetsetter Terisa Folaron. Recently returned from a year and a half abroad in Southeast Asia, she’s back in the “experimental swing of things” – first with The Dystopia Project this past October, an artistic response to the internment of artists and composers during the Holocaust – and now with Terror Chic. “Art offers a very personal and direct response to these events,” Folaron says. “[Other mediums] are not as accessible, or immediate, or intimate.” True as that may be, the years following 9/11 and the declaration of war on terrorism have made us all ask how much is too much, how soon too soon. Folaron’s research led her to reports that even fashion designers had backed off previously prevalent camouflage, epaulets and Maoist color schemes to avoid inflaming the sensitivities of a society suffering from post-traumatic stress. In direct retaliation to that, Terror Chic aims to cast a spotlight on the connection between art and war. It’s about creating at full tilt. Every piece of art, music and design was commissioned specifically for the show, and Folaron hopes that the event will give artists the chance to network, collaborate and start a conversation she feels has been tacit. “I approached an artist friend one day and asked, How has the war on terrorism changed your art? His response? ‘That’s right. I forgot we are at war,’” she says. “I laughed, until I received similar responses from other artists.” So what should we expect at the Hide House on 11/9? A somber Cold War vibe and tongue-in-cheek haute couture? Probably some combination thereof, as Terror Chic explores a range of perspectives on the current wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, from unabashed anger to dogged support. It also spans a range of musical styles, from the “happy hardcore” of Juniper Tar to the cello experimentation of Janet Schiff. Participating musicians contributed to a Terror 11.9 compilation CD, mastered by Ben Derickson of Zod Records and available exclusively at the event. Then there’s the art: photographs by Emma Freeman and Amanda Rose, pixel art by Craig Robinson, prints by Dwellephant, Matt Cipov and Joy Harmon, among contributions from many other highly regarded artists. Artwork will be for sale and buyers and collectors are encouraged to make an appearance. And have we stressed that there’s a catwalk? More specifically, that a fashion show will take place on the catwalk, featuring area designers, models and stylists – […]
Nov 1st, 2006 by Amy Elliott
Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin
By Erin Wolf Polyvinyl must love Boris, seeing as the respected indie label is presenting a freshly remixed and remastered version of their original 2005 release, Broom. To give this album a review so late in the game is almost ridiculous, but the fact is that SSLYBY hasn’t been playing by the particular rules that govern indie-rock publicity. SSLYBY only recently surfaced from the depths of their homemade environs (originally recording Broom in an attic) when they placed a few songs on the World Wide Web. Then, Magic Blog-land whipped itself into a frenzy of admiration for the band and their album and hastily posted criticisms, which admitted that although SSLYBY did sound an awful lot like Olivia Tremor Control, Beulah, The Shins, Of Montreal, Weezer, Elliot Smith, Bright Eyes, Ben Kweller, etc. … that gee, they sure could write a nice song. After being background-checked and deemed inoffensive copycats, Broom became slightly legendary. Just like the original release, Broom is filled with unintentionally precious and breathy off-key vocals and yodels, strummed guitars and the air of relief for not being a political band, despite the name. The songs slip one by one down a string of lyrics ranging from travel songs revolving around packs of cigarettes to girls named Anna Lee. Pleasant and familiar, like reading a well-worn book of short stories in the sun, Broom isn’t a half-bad way to pass a half hour. Now that they’ve ventured a bit further from Internet notoriety, perhaps they’ll become more adventurous in other ways as well.
Nov 1st, 2006 by Vital Archives
We sing in the car
By Lucky Tomaszek We’re driving out to a rock climbing place for my daughter Lena’s 11th birthday. It’s July but it’s cool enough to have the windows down to the let breeze in. Lena says, “Will you play that one song, Mom?” I smile at her in the rear view mirror and scan through to track four. “Louder!” she calls from the back seat. I turn it up and look at her again, eyebrows up in question. “Louder!” She laughs as I crank it and then she’s singing along at the top of her lungs. Her friends bob their heads and sing the few words they know. As the song ends, she calls out, “Again? Please!” It’s her birthday, so I indulge her and start the song over, singing along with the stereo and my daughter while her friends try to keep up. As we pull into a parking space I turn the stereo down. Lena says to her friends, “You know how some families play softball or go for long bike rides? It’s like that. We sing in the car. It’s what our family does.” I have always loved music, and when my kids were born I swore I was going to do my best to share that love with them. To be clear, I’m not musically talented, not in any way. I can’t sing or play any instruments. And I can’t dance. Don’t ask me! But I have a great appreciation for the musical talents of others and never tire of hearing new music. I have worked hard to raise children who are musically open-minded, as well. Family favorites When Lena was a year old, her favorite CD was Peter Gabriel’s Shaking the Tree. She would bring me the disc over and over and shake her wee-tiny groove thing to “Solsbury Hill.” Not long before her second birthday, she fell in love with the song “Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps” by Cake. Being an incredibly articulate toddler, she could actually sing most of the words, though she didn’t really know what they meant. Emma joined our family around the time Lena turned three, while I was riding a wave of chick music: Indigo Girls, Tracy Chapman, Jewel, Sarah McLachlan. As I danced through the house, Emma nodded along in her sling, strapped to my chest and laughing with me as Lena followed banging on empty Tupperware containers. Even at eight years-old, Emma’s favorite song is still Edie Brickell’s “Black and Blue.” When Jeffrey was born six years ago, I was on a kick of revisiting all of my high school favorites. Tom Petty played throughout our home, punctuated by Deee-Lite’s World Clique. Concrete Blonde’s first album, U2’s Rattle and Hum, Replacement’s Hootenany – these and so many more were passed down from me to the three kids, giving them a healthy foundation from which to start to form their own musical opinions. Musical evolution I will be the first to admit that it was hard for me when Lena, at […]
Nov 1st, 2006 by Lucky Tomaszek
