Tag / Music

by sweensryche

Top 20 Tracks of 2010

I wasn’t gonna do this list. But now I did it. You wanna fight about it?

20. Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin – “In Pairs”

Life ain’t like Noah’s ark – human pairings are little more complicated. But this ragged little sing-a-long reminds you that it’s OK to smile, even if nobody’s there to see it.

19. M.I.A. – “XXXO”
This thunderous dose of electro-pop warns that bad sex leads to social media. M.I.A.’s narrator discovers that tweeted love notes are too easily tossed-off – just like those symbols for hugs and kisses.

18. The Body – “A Body”
A delicate choral passage reaches its crescendo, only to be mercilessly deconstructed, resulting in a 10-minute hurtle from heaven into hell.

17. Big Boi – “Shutterbugg”
Funky, buoyant and celebratory, Big Boi’s single didn’t just make for mandatory summer listening, it also showed that the talkbox might be about to give AutoTune a run for its money.

16. Eels – “Little Bird”
Nobody does melancholy quite like Eels. Here, their bandleader E is so hard up for affection, he bemoans his unrequited love to a bird that hops onto his porch. How gorgeously pathetic.

15. Kanye West – “Runaway”
“You’ve been puttin’ up with my shit just way too long” – the closest thing to an apology you’re ever gonna get from a rock star.

14. She & Him – “I’m Gonna Make It Better”
Reassuring lyrics, floating on a bed of lightly twanging guitars. For fans of ’70s AM pop, it’s the cure for what ails you.

13. Vampire Weekend – “Diplomat’s Son”
I thought nostalgia trips resulted in some kind of sadness or regret. But when your memories are of lying around dressed in white, smoking joints with rich kids, they result in exhilarating synth-reggae songs.

12. The Roots – “Right On”
On a record about the power of positive attitudes, a beat that’ll make you feel invincible.

11. Rihanna – “What’s My Name”
How do you know you’re in love? When somebody gives you goosebumps, just by saying your name.

10. Sleigh Bells – “Crown on the Ground”
So. Damn. Loud.

9. Ke$ha – “Your Love is My Drug”
A melody that’s as tough to shake as lovesickness.

8. Jamey Johnson – “Heartache”
Heartache isn’t just a state of mind, it’s an evil entity. Johnson sings from the perspective of this grim reaper of relationships, breaking up everyone from caveman couples to Charles and Diana.

7. Janelle Monae – “Dance or Die”
Latin rhythms, undulating raps, soap opera organ – a lean, propulsive sonic assault unlike any other.

6. Antony & The Johnsons – “The Great White Ocean”
Spare, stunning chamber folk about family dynamics in the afterlife. Should be sung in church.

5. Gorillaz – “White Flag”
A Lebanese orchestra, a pair of imaginative British MCs, and Damon Albarn’s ever-expanding vision make for the most successfully eclectic track of 2010.

4. Bruno Mars – “Just the Way You Are”
The love song of the year, with a mighty catchy chorus to boot.

3. Cee Lo Green – “Fuck You”
The love child of “I Want You Back” and “Gold Digger,” brilliantly arranged and sung by the most expressive vocalist in R&B. Adorable.

2. Erykah Badu – “Window Seat”
An empowering anthem for both frustrated lovers and claustrophobic travelers, sung with the kind of quiet confidence we last heard on Baduizm.

1. Kanye West – “Monster”
The drums are huge, the personas even huger – a six-minute running time is barely enough to contain all the chest-beating rants and paranoid fantasies. The year’s illest track, in both senses of the word.

by sweensryche

What I Got For Christmas

Santa was wicked nice to me this year. But his handwriting looks a lot like my wife’s …

Cee Lo Green – The Lady Killer

Green’s first release that takes his “Soul Machine” moniker completely to heart – an inspired block of productions worthy of classic Motown, of love songs that swoon and ache with equal passion.

 

Saga of the Swamp Thing: Book Three

Yes, Watchmen is great. But I’ll take Alan Moore’s lovely, metaphysical Swamp Thing series any day. This is a horror comic that makes you ask big existential questions – once it sinks in, it swallows you whole.

 

 

Antony & The Johnsons – Swanlights

Antony Hegarty continues to ponder our dying world and its implications on our souls, over the lushest productions of his career. Somehow, you walk away from it all feeling uplifted.

 

 

Mad Men: Season One

The poisonous nature of lies, depicted with intelligence, humor and insane precision. Go Peggy.

by sweensryche

Top 10 Albums of 2010

I done liked these here albums. I make list to share. Then I eat sandwich.

10. Phosphorescent – Here’s To Taking It Easy
Last year, Phosphorescent released To Willie, a straightforward set of Willie Nelson covers. It stands to reason that fans who’d gotten hooked on the band’s cryptic dream-folk stylings might’ve had trouble connecting the dots. Which could very well be the inspiration for Here’s To Taking It Easy, an artful distillation of the two approaches that’s equal parts sweet, lazy country and deep, introspective indie rock. Bandleader Matthew Houck gives his ambitions a rain check here, opting for words and arrangements that sum up where he’s been – touring like crazy, destroying his relationships, then touring some more. The saloon-ready pedal steel and driving horns of “It’s Hard to be Humble” shows he’s not over his Willie obsession, while the haunting mantra “Hej, Me I’m Light” could be a Pride outtake. And “Los Angeles” closes things with a clear-headed swipe at our fame-obsessed culture – “Are they covering you up with affection now?/Are they giving you a lot of attention now?”

9. LCD Soundsystem – This Is Happening
On This Is Happening, LCD Soundsystem’s third straight slab of epic, confessional dance-pop, there’s much of what you’d expect – immersive walls of synths, cold-light-of-morning musings, and a thunderous beat or two. But there’s something new lurking in the impeccably produced weeds, a sense of tension that finds James Murphy writing some of his catchiest material, while simultaneously rebelling against the concept of pop. “You wanted a hit/But maybe we don’t do hits,” Murphy posits on one especially hook-filled tune, which he stretches to a 9-minute running time, stacking ironies and keyboard sounds with equal fervor.

8. Erykah Badu – New Amerykah, Pt. Two: Return of the Ankh
On her fifth album, and second installment of the awkwardly named “New Amerykah” series, Erykah Badu gives us her most commercially viable music of the last decade or so. That’s not to say it’s the kind of glossy, over-emoted sludge that passes for R&B these days – Return of the Ankh goes down easy, but it’s because Badu and her band make these breezy soul grooves look easy. A significant shift from the challenging sprawl of New Amerykah, Pt. One: 4th World War, Ankh begs to be pulled out during the summer months. With the airy funk of “Turn Me Away (Get Munny)” and the slow-burning ode to solo travel “Window Seat” drifting from your speakers, you’ll almost be able to smell the barbecue.

7. Robert Plant – Band of Joy
After the initial shock of Raising Sand, on which Robert Plant sang with a tenderness and clarity he’d only hinted at in the past, it made complete sense that this artist would spend the twilight of his career as a sublime interpreter of classic Americana. Nobody ripped off American blues masters quite as brazenly as Led Zeppelin, and some of Plant’s best work with that band was on its occasional forays into folk and country. With Band of Joy, the legend puts an exclamation point on this revelation, as Plant assembled a Grand Ole Opry-worthy band to help him take on traditional folk tunes and modern numbers by artists like Los Lobos, Richard Thompson and Townes Van Zandt. The result is earthier than Raising Sand, with less focus on harmony and more of a live in the studio feel. Which isn’t to say it’s not beautiful – whether it’s among the echo chamber guitars of “Silver Rider” or the ominous acoustics of “Satan Your Kingdom Must Come Down,” Plant’s voice enchants.

6. Gorillaz – Plastic Beach
Ever since Damon Albarn’s band of animated hipsters released its self-titled debut in 2001, Gorillaz has felt like a lark, a fun side project that let the artist scratch his hip hop itch. But listening to the wildly eclectic sounds, indelible melodies and post-apocalyptic concepts of Plastic Beach, it’s clear that Albarn has realized that his “other” band is the one he was meant to lead. On paper, the formula is pretty much the same as the first two Gorillaz discs – get a crackerjack group of guest artists and let them run wild over chilled-out electronic grooves. But for the first time, the songs are as adventurous as the guests, full of moody Britpop atmospheres, burbling funk jams, aching bursts of R&B and full-on orchestral bombast. “White Flag” acts as a microcosm of it all, combining the hypnotic Eastern melodies of The Lebanese National Orchestra with bursts of playful electro-rap. And when Albarn follows it up with the post-punk ballad “Rhinestone Eyes,” singing about how his love’s peepers glitter “like factories far away,” it becomes clear that there’s nothing at all cartoonish about these Gorillaz anymore.

5. Vampire Weekend – Contra
Oh, it could be so easy to blow off Vampire Weekend, what with their songs about aristocrats, diplomat’s sons and girlfriends’ trust funds. But perhaps because of its unabashed approach to upper crust tropes, Contra possesses a freshness that only a hater wouldn’t acknowledge. Of course, ambitious, effervescent pop hooks make any hyper-educated rich kid lament go down easier, and Contra is stuffed to the gills with ’em, from the falsetto-laden Afro-pop of “White Sky” to the M.I.A.-sampling electro-ska of “Diplomat’s Son.” And tell me one band that’s doing anything like “California English,” where singer Ezra Koenig ponders the deeper implications of using Tom’s of Maine toothpaste in an AutoTune-corrected voice. These kids might be spoiled, but their art is built to last.

4. Jamey Johnson – The Guitar Song
A double album from the guy who co-wrote “Honky Tonk Badonkadonk”? Sounds like something whipped up by the Satan of my own personal hell. But there ain’t nothing trendy or empty-headed about The Guitar Song, a robust collection of songs with roots in traditional country and production values that gleam like an oil soap-polished bar. Don’t be fooled by the record’s “Black” and “White” subtitles, because Johnson’s interested in grey areas. Whether he’s singing about heartbreak, the plight of the modern farmer or breezy afternoons on porch swings, there’s either a resiliency behind the sadness, or the sense that real happiness is earned. Through it all, the pedal steel licks soar and mourn, the pianos dance in dark corners, and every word is soaked in Johnson’s elegant, commanding baritone.

3. Janelle Monaé – The ArchAndroid
An over-the-top cinematic intro segues into an Outkast-meets-Gloria Estefan barnburner, which segues into an equally propulsive dance floor cut on which the vocalist confesses she’s “shaking like a schizo” over sped-up jazz guitar licks. These are the first three tracks of The ArchAndroid, Janelle Monaé’s concept album about cyborg clones, time travel and futuristic psycho wards. It was the most exciting beginning to an album in 2010, setting a standard that would be tough for Aretha to match for 18 tracks. But Monaé almost does it, thanks to an unflagging creative spirit – from the Willy Wonka strings of “Neon Valley Street” to the English folk melodies of “57821” and the light-as-air romantic pop of “Oh, Maker,” The ArchAndroid is a Baskin Robbins of sonic imagination. If it wasn’t for the out-of-place Of Montreal collaboration “Make the Bus,” we’d be talking perfection here. Still, this is a dizzying accomplishment, one that puts Monaé on a short list of artists who can push the envelope and cross over in the same supercharged breath.

2. The Roots  – How I Got Over
We’ve always been able to count on The Roots to deliver top-notch, head-bobbing grooves and smart, fiery verses – they’re probably the most consistent outfit in hip-hop. But with How I Got Over, these guys haven’t just kept things fresh; they’ve upped the ante. A powerful, nuanced concept album about overcoming all that life can hurl your way, it thrills on first listen, and only becomes more rewarding the more you hit repeat. By masterfully blending their two main stylistic approaches – warm, Native Tongues beats and chilling, confrontational synth-funk – the band is able to paint a thoroughly convincing picture of self-doubt evolving into self-confidence. Black Thought rattles off a laundry list of natural disasters over the gloomy piano chords of “Walk Alone,” but by “The Day,” guest vocalist Blu is looking in the mirror and realizing, “I should start living today.” Moving stuff, in both senses of the word.

1. Kanye West – My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy
The American Dream ain’t what it used to be. It’s more about power than picket fences. But I’ll stop trying to define it, because Kanye West has created the ultimate tutorial – his fifth album, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. In lesser hands, this treatise on the glories and pitfalls of being crazy successful could sound like a Republican Party platform speech. But West’s combination of honesty, outrage, ego and phenomenal wordplay transforms the concept into an irresistible Jekyll and Hyde tale. He describes himself as a superhero and a monster, preaching that “no one man should have all that power” on his first single, while boasting “my presence is a present, kiss my ass” on his second. He’s never been this emotional on record, but he doesn’t let it stop him from writing battle-ready rhymes – for all of the wild psychoanalysis going on, one of the biggest highlights is a Family Matters reference (“Too many Urkels on your team/that’s why you’re wins low”). Musically, MBDTF is just as compellingly schizo. “Dark Fantasy’s” gospel chorus asks “can we get much higher?” Rocky soundtrack-ready synth horns propel “All of the Lights.” The slinky, Smokey Robinson-sampling “Devil in a New Dress” hearkens back to the College Dropout formula. “Monster” is an old-school rap feast, packed with top-notch guests (including a world-beating verse from Nicki Minaj). The result? The most brilliantly produced, fully realized musical vision of 2010. For hip-hop fanatics, casual pop listeners and party animals alike, it’s a garden of earthly delights – lush, intoxicating, and laced with nightmares.

Honorable Mentions: She & Him – Volume Two; Das Racist – Sit Down, Man; Sleigh Bells – Treats; M.I.A. –Maya; Drake – Thank Me Later; Elvis Costello – National Ransom; Of Montreal – False Priest

by sweensryche

Denver: Underrated Artist, Overrated Omelet

Saturday night, I reviewed “Country Roads,” a theme concert from the Buffalo Philharmonic that featured a five-piece band performing tunes by John Denver (above, in full Beastmaster mode) and Dan Fogelberg, with the orchestra fleshing things out. Other than reinforcing my feelings about both artists – Denver’s melodies are grand, timeless things, while Fogelberg’s are sopping loaves of Wonder bread – it got me feeling all defensive about one of my favorite country singers. So, here’s a list of reasons why John Denver deserves more cred than he typically gets:

1. His songs are audaciously simple. It ain’t easy to connect with listeners using basic language, and Denver does it as effectively as anybody, injecting warmth and truth into seemingly throwaway sentiments like “Sunshine on my shoulders/makes me happy.”

2. He’s so square, he’s cool. There’s never been anything hip about a guy with an acoustic guitar singing about mountains. Denver didn’t care, singing about dizzying natural highs with a passion that’s as refreshing as a gulp from a Rocky Mountain stream.

3. His love songs are untouchable. Whether it’s the swooning romance of “Annie’s Song” or the tender parental poetry of “For Baby,” Denver’s fusion of simple sentiments with soaring melodies make for unforgettable expressions of love.

4. He makes you sing along. “Take Me Home, Country Roads” could get a monk to break his vow of silence.

5. While hiking in West Virginia, a backwoods mystic (a.k.a. “mountain mama”) gave him an enchanted amulet on a golden necklace. It gave him the power to grow sexy hair and speak with the animals, after which he fell in love with a falcon named Stephanie (above).

by sweensryche

The Top 10 Beatles Songs, by Franz List

Hello world. My name is Franz List. I shove opinions at you in list form. Ah, my lists. My lists my lists my lists. My lovely lady lists.

My maiden list for this blog is supremely ridiculous – listing the 10 greatest Beatles songs of all time, in order of greatestness. Got a problem with that? Well, so did your mom.

10.”When I’m Sixty-Four” (1967, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band)
Paul McCartney has been known to get a little schmaltzy at times. But he remains the king of homespun romantic pop, with this being the finest example. Celebrating the joys of spending your life with one person, from reassuring routines to seaside vacations and time with the grandkids, “When I’m Sixty-Four” is a sweet slice of domestic bliss, a splash of bouncing piano and sprightly woodwinds amongst the clamor and ambition of The Beatles’ most celebrated album. Making it not only timeless, but brave.

9. “I Don’t Want to Spoil the Party” (1964, Beatles For Sale)
Of all the early Beatles songs in which they pretend to be shy, doe-eyed doormats, this one’s the most fun. As the light rockabilly beat saunters underneath, John Lennon sings with conviction about a girl who’s made him sad. He’s gotta leave the party he’s at for the sake of the other party-goers – they’d get sick of his mopey ass right quick. Then comes the chorus. The acoustic guitar chords ring full and true, and Lennon revels in the power of his puppy love – “I still love her!”

8. “Here Comes the Sun” (1969, Abbey Road)
I’m sure George Harrison’s crowning moment as a Beatle was like, all metaphorical and stuff, but it’s magical when you take it literally. Everybody who has lived through a winter knows how it feels when spring rushes in. It’s easier to wake up in the morning; you feel part of the world again; a new life force swells up inside you; you start humming for no reason – and it’s probably this song’s simple, hopeful melody. A shout out to the majesty of all new beginnings, and a weather forecast for the soul, “Here Comes the Sun’s” gorgeously picked guitar licks and “it’s all right” refrain are more therapeutic than any collection of nature sounds.

7. It’s Only Love (1965, Help!)
This ode to the ache of young love gone wrong finds Lennon exploring the poetry of passed notes (“When you sigh, my insides just fly”), peeking into the ensuing relationship’s demise, and delivering a chorus that brilliantly depicts a man trying to pass off his feelings as so much rubbish – all over the course of a handful of brief stanzas. The lead guitar and vocal melodies are precursors to the grand “In My Life,” making this song’s earnest simplicity all the sweeter.

6. I Should Have Known Better (1964, A Hard Day’s Night)
As earth-shattering as the band’s later experiments could be, they were bereft of the pure joy and rambunctious innocence of its early days. And this track is the supreme distillation of that magic, two minutes and 44 seconds of ingratiating chord changes, raw rock vocals, fluttering harmonicas and 2+2=4 lyrics about falling in love unexpectedly. Running through it all is the Beatles’ irrepressible energy, that intangible quality that made the quartet truly fab.

5. Mother Nature’s Son (1968, The Beatles [White Album])
Among countless other hyperbolic statements made about the Beatles include comparisons to Beethoven and Mozart. And while that’s pretty silly, the band’s ability to evoke moods, tensions and releases does deserve such lofty talk. McCartney’s obsession with English rusticity resulted in this White Album cut, and its mix of tenderly picked acoustic guitars, tastefully arranged brass and down-home bass drum smacking elicits as strong a visual of the rolling countryside as Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony. Catchy, organic and optimistic, this is the Cute One at the top of his game.

4. For No One (1966, Revolver)
Has Paul McCartney ever been dumped? This song would make you think so. As much for its self-absorbed melancholy as for its stunning instrumental flourishes, “For No One” is unforgettable. The lyrics cut to the quick of why rejection sucks – she no longer needs the narrator; there’s “no sign of love” in her countenance. Couple that with descending piano chords, McCartney’s sentimental vocal and a lovely French horn solo, and you have what might be the prettiest relationship death knell ever laid to tape.

3. Because (1969, Abbey Road)
If the Beatles ever wrote a hymn, this is it. Driven by a basic lyrical construction from Lennon, “Because” celebrates the mysteries of the natural world, and the overwhelming effect they have on the mind, body and soul. Adding to this solemn, spiritual vibe is the most astounding vocal showcase the band had ever mustered – layering the voices of Lennon, McCartney and Harrison in triplicate, delivering every note in glorious nine-part harmony. It’s the kind of sound that makes you want to believe in something more.

2. I’ll Be Back (1964, A Hard Day’s Night)
The final track on A Hard Day’s Night was a beacon. Starkly different from the boisterous covers that closed out the first two Beatles records, “I’ll Be Back” was a dark, Latin-tinged Lennon original. Shifting from major to minor keys in a bold, haunting way, and without a chorus to speak of, the song marked an evolution from the fun mop-toppery of yore to the mesmerizing experiments to come. And no matter the context, the melody is enchanting, John’s seemingly effortless, subdued vocal the work of a master hypnotist.

1. I Want You (She’s So Heavy) (1969, Abbey Road)
The Beatles have been called many things, but “sexy” usually isn’t one of them. Which makes the wild, slithering opus “I Want You” all the more irresistible. Here you’ll find everything that makes this band timeless – a deep appreciation for early rock and R&B; a deeper desire to break the rules of those genres; utter mastery of recording techniques; the ability to take the simplest of statements and turn it into transcendent poetry – dished out with a primality they’d never before explored. Full of sensuous soul grooves, screaming B3 solos, a lustful mantra and a cacophonous, extended outro that cuts out like the plug’s been pulled, the seven-plus minute track is rooted both in the simplicity of the past and the anything-goes mentality of the time it was recorded. It’s the ingenious, aphrodisiac-ridden cousin of “I Want to Hold Your Hand,” and the band’s finest moment.

by sweensryche

Tops never stop, uh, singing you more?

Not only did I have the pleasure of reviewing The Four Tops’ affirmation of a show at the Erie County Fair, I also had the pleasure of meeting the quartet before the gig. As I settled in to have my picture taken with the guys, I mentioned that “Bernadette” gives me chills (I know, I’m a drama mama), to which Lawrence Payton, Jr. responded, “Man, she gives me thrills.” It wasn’t surprising to learn that these dudes are smooth customers – with only one original member remaining (first tenor Duke Fakir), the other three Tops have to ooze personality and chops to live up to the legacy of the Motown legends they’re replacing. Which they did with conviction on this night, flying through one crossover R&B masterpiece after another, the melodies as irresistible as ever, the arrangements still exciting and imaginative, the lyrics simple, sweet and true.

“Loving You Is Sweeter Than Ever” was a great choice for an opening song – a gorgeous example of the group at its mid-’60s best, but an underappreciated one for sure. Moving forward, though, the Tops knocked down one massive hit after another, with a four-piece band and eight-piece horn section providing the ballast for those achingly good four-part harmonies. “Bernadette” was a total winner, thanks to lead singer Theo Peoples belting every word like a man possessed and keyboardist/conductor George Roundtree leaning into some driving piano chords. And the TLC inherent in the performances of “Baby I Need Your Loving” and the closing “I Can’t Help Myself” made it seem like these guys are somehow not tired of singing them. As the latter’s wonderful bass line kicked in, and the Tops gave the first chorus to the crowd to sing, you got a sense of what it must have been like to experience music like this for the first time. No wonder teenagers were passing out in their seats back then.

by sweensryche

I want to believe (in Ozomatli)

Of the myriad of reasons why a hopelessly awkward teen in the 1990s would love The X-Files – the escapist plot lines full of devilish conspiracies, cool monsters and clever humor helping him forget he was still a virgin, at least for an hour – one was that a secondary character was an Ozomatli fan. Richard “Ringo” Langly, one of The Lone Gunmen, Fox Mulder’s go-to trio of hackers and conspiracy nuts, frequently wore the L.A. salsa/hip hop/funk band’s t-shirts on the show. As a result, the show spoke to alien obsessives, will-they-or-won’t-they morons, and Ozo-loving nerds like myself.

And the band’s sizzling set at Thursday at the Square showed that they’re still a party band of the highest order, and as eclectic and energetic as ever – a nifty thing to witness, now that this Ozo-loving nerd is in his 30s. Now a septet, without a DJ in tow, Ozomatli still boasts a hugely syncopated sound, with two percussionists and a drummer throwing rhythmic flourishes all over the solid bass playing of original member Wil-Dog Abers. Justin Poree is their MC these days, and he seemed like a talented guy with a steady flow on Thursday – unfortunately, P.A. troubles meant that pretty much all the vocals were low in the mix, so it was tough to hear any of the lyrics.

As expected, tunes from the 2010 disc “Fire Away” were the order of the day, which was fine. The record is certainly the most easily digestible of all of Ozo’s works, boasting some lovingly polished R&B hooks and some never-before-seen, tender balladry. But to be honest, I would have preferred to see the late-’90s version of the group, with Chali 2na busting out verses over the impeccably arranged funk and salsa grooves of its 1998 self-titled debut. Not a complaint exactly, just a feeling.

Still, this was a fiery, incredibly enjoyable set that touched on all that makes Ozomatli great. Fusing such a wide variety of styles into its hyperactive live show, the band is a sonic melting pot filled with an irresistible, bubbling brew.

If you’re looking for some mind-bendingly great musicians who know how to rock a party without ever resorting to clichés, then thanks to Ozomatli, the truth is out there.

You can check my review here.

by sweensryche

Paisley Park: A country megastar hits Darien Lake

Over the course of my concert reviewin’ tenure, I’ve been assigned several country shows that I wouldn’t have considered buying a ticket for. For each of these, I held an outside hope going in – that what I was about to experience would erase my prejudices about contemporary country music, that I would finally get why so many people love the junk. Each time, the stereotypes proved true. The music was uninspired, super-glossy pop with a fiddle thrown in. The lyrics were about beer, sex, small towns, America and beer-soaked sex in small American towns.

So when I took in Brad Paisley’s smart, inspired set last weekend at Darien Lake Performing Arts Center, the feeling was of excitement long-delayed. With the exception of the poppy twang of his tunes, and his cowboy hat n’ blue jeans, Paisley’s performance was a completely unexpected joy. First, the guy’s an incredible guitarist, shifting from muscular Southern rock licks to lyrical pop passages with ease, and soloing like a madman without ever seeming masturbatory. And when he reached his guitar down to the outstretched arms of the crowd, letting them strum the final chord of a song with a beaming grin on his face, you could see that he was having as good a time as everyone else.

Then there are the songs themselves, which embody that sense of unpretentiousness and self-abasement that other country artists always talk about having. Tunes like “Online” and “Celebrity” may sound dated in a decade, but for now, they effectively lampoon our plasticine culture in endearingly silly ways. Paisley’s love songs, on the other hand, are undoubtedly timeless. The ballad “She’s My Everything” makes good on its title, with lyrics tender and true, and not trying to double as poetry. Paisley injected some soul into the cut, injecting a handful of inspired solos in between the verses.

And “Waitin’ On A Woman,” with its accompanying video depicting Andy Griffith waiting for his wife in the afterlife, floored me. After writing my review, I ran to the car to avoid the traffic, and sped home to be with the woman I love.

by sweensryche

The Album of the Year, so far

Janelle Monaé – The ArchAndroid

After seeing Janelle Monaé last summer – when she was the relatively unheard-of opening act on No Doubt’s reunion tour – and being thoroughly blown away, I scampered over to the merch tent and picked up her Metropolis: The Chase Suite EP. After writing a review in which I compared the R&B singer/songwriter/bandleader to James Brown (which is no hyperbole), my wife and I listened to the EP on the ride home, hoping for an onslaught of funky adrenaline comparable to her live set. And while it’s a very good record, Metropolis’ complicated sci-fi storyline and uneven production values couldn’t live up to the lofty expectations of that moment. Monaé’s debut LP The ArchAndroid, on the other hand, would’ve most certainly extended our post-concert high. A nearly flawless mix of stomping R&B grooves, richly produced pop ballads, twisted Latin rhythms, jazz crooning and orchestral suites, this is a dizzying accomplishment that puts Monaé on a short list of artists who can push the envelope and cross over in the same supercharged breath.

After an over-the-top cinematic intro, complete with booming brass, whispering woodwinds and ominous string passages, Monaé breaks into “Dance or Die,” an Outkast-meets-Gloria Estefan barnburner that’s a great example of what she does best – laying into a simple groove in a way that makes it more than the sum of its parts. This segues into “Faster,” an equally propulsive dance floor cut on which Monaé confesses she’s “shaking like a schizo” over sped-up jazz guitar licks.

But The ArchAndroid is an 18-track concept album about cyborg clones, time travel and futuristic psycho wards – it can’t get along solely on the funky stuff. Hence some deftly sequenced moments where Monaé slows things down and shows off her range, doing her best Lauryn Hill impression over the Willy Wonka strings of “Neon Valley Street,” dipping into some English folk melodies on the solemn “57821” and delivering a romantic pop masterpiece in “Oh, Maker.” And when certain songs fall short – which is bound to happen on such a long record – they’re still drenched in the same unflagging creative spirit as everything else. Even though the out-of-place Of Montreal collaboration “Make the Bus” temporarily derails things, you’ve got to respect its boldness.

“So much hurt/On this earth/But you loved me/And I really dared to love you too,” Monaé sings on “Oh, Maker,” over a light-as-air arrangement that sprinkles back-up vocals through the verses like so many raindrops. As the sonic equivalent of raising your eyes to the heavens and enjoying what you see, this track is the centerpiece of The ArchAndroid. Because like one of Monaé’s inspired live sets, this album’ll knock you on your ass like a bolt of lightning hurtled by the gods.

by sweensryche

What’s in my Discman, May 2010

I’m really into albums from 1971 these days, for some reason. I guess I’m just swept up in the memories they inspire – you know, me at -7, eating Tootsie Pops and playing four square while living in the twinkle of my pappy’s eye.

Paul & Linda McCartney – Ram

Like any aspect of Beatles history, the band’s attempt to get back to its roots on its muddled-with-patches-of-brilliance swan song, Let It Be, has been analyzed to death. But you don’t need an insider biography to tell you that Paul McCartney was leading this charge towards stripped down rock and blues constructions. All you need as evidence are his first two solo records, 1970’s jarringly spare McCartney and 1971’s Ram. The latter is the much stronger album, presenting the ideal mixture of the farmhouse rusticity Macca was obsessed with and the gloriously produced melodies that have always been his strong suit. You’ve got the unadorned Delta blues of “3 Legs” and the light, scatman folk of “Heart of the Country,” as well as the beautiful Beach Boys harmonies of “Dear Boy” and the looking-ahead-to-Wings power ballad “Back Seat of My Car.” Unlike any other McCartney album, Ram never goes to extremes; even Linda’s hopelessly flat back-up vocals fit the homestyle milieu. The Cute One went on to do some great things, but he never again made an album as balanced as this.

Bill Withers – Just As I Am

Bill Withers is the quintessential R&B folksinger, and this, his debut album, is prime evidence to back up that claim. Over the course of a dozen tracks, the music world was introduced to the steady, hypnotic bluesiness of Withers’ voice, his soul-infused acoustic guitar playing, and the gut-wrenching drama of his songwriting. Withers tells gripping stories as easily as he delivers those buttery vocal runs – “Grandma’s Hands” mourns the loss of a matriarch; “I’m Her Daddy” is the stirring plea of a man who realizes he has a six-year-old daughter; “Better Off Dead” is a suicide note from an abusive alcoholic. Producer Booker T.’s arrangements are subtle and tasteful throughout, letting Withers’ glue-you-to-your-seat tunes carry the day – just thinking about “Ain’t No Sunshine” gives me goosebumps.

David Bowie – The Man Who Sold The World

Few artists have dabbled with as many different styles as David Bowie. But until I heard The Man Who Sold The World, I didn’t realize that prog-rock and early metal were on the list. Before the pop perfection of Hunky Dory or the conceptual, glammed-out brilliance of The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and The Spiders From Mars, there was this album – a loud, roughshod recording dominated by huge guitars and huger concepts. “Running Gun Blues” is an unflinching Vietnam critique, “All the Madmen” a harrowing depiction of a man about to be released from a sanitarium, “Saviour Machine” a plea from a governmental leader to help him kick his power addiction. It’s all bathed in chugging Sabbath riffage and epic early-Zeppelin arrangements – while the towering melodies and glamorous sensibilities of classic Bowie are ever-present, the guy never rocked harder than he does here.