Reviews:
THE
FOR CARNATION CD (TOUCH & GO)
I'll
proudly admit that I do not keep up with bands that are
considered "post-rock," but most things featuring
an ex-member of Slint are still gonna at least pique my
interest. Still, for a lot of reasons I was in no hurry
to peep The For Carnation. As a rule, I just don't have
the time or money to keep up with Touch and Go. I think
the last album I bought from the label was Polvo's Exploded
Drawing...what was that, five years ago? And, we've
all heard plenty of Slint spin-offs and imitators, but
none of them, not even Slint themselves, have approached
the glory of Spiderland.
Their posthumous,
mysterious 10-inch release (one side was an outtake from
Tweez and the other was an outtake from Spiderland,
and nobody knows which is which) was very good but not
exactly great, and the same goes for that live version
of "Cortez the Killer" that was (is?) on Napster. If even
Slint themselves weren't quite measuring up, how could
I expect just another Slint spin-off band to be a whole
heck of a lot better? Especially one with a name like
The For Carnation.
The…For?...Carnation??
Okay...I mean, I'm all for 'breaking down meaning' and
'playing with signifiers' -- I not only read all of Naked
Lunch, I read all of Nova Express, The Soft Machine,
AND The Ticket That Exploded -- but for gosh sake,
even the most art-damaged among us know that you can't
follow an article with a preposition! The only way I can
possibly think of the name is that "it" is "for" a girl
named Carnation, but then the article "The", which they
insist on starting with, messes that all up. Matt Focht
kept thinking I was talking about a band called The Four
Car Nation, which isn't a great name either, but at least
it's an actual phrase!
So yeah, I
might have never heard 'em on my own, but luckily, I'm
the kind of guy who has a friend like Troy Van Horn who'll
schedule an entire evening's fireside chat with red wine
in order to listen to one album. One particular night
he brought over this one. Despite it being The For Carnation's
third or fourth release, it was my introduction to the
band, and I was a near-instant convert. What I heard that
night was one long intense mood-piece…and not just some
simple drone, but six tracks, each one different; barely,
but distinctively, different. They might all sound like
they're in the same key, and they might all have the same
tempo, but the bass lines are different, the drum patterns
are different, the vocals are subtly different…the tug
of each song is slightly different, so that the six tracks
add up to six different views of the same surface, six
different tugs on the same essential chain.
I've
noticed that the word "dub" comes up the most when this
album is described, and for good reason -- the bass lines
are deep, moody, and minimalist, and intangible space-echo
sounds and subdued keyboard stabs haunt throughout. But
wait, wait, I know what you're thinking…"dub", "Slint",
"Touch and Go"…oh lord, not another "post-rock" "dub-inflected"
"project" from Chicago…but baby, don't worry, 'cause this
LP transcends genre. You could call it 'dubby,' but the
guitar and keyboard and vocal parts over the top of the
spaced-out rhythm tracks are strictly American, if anything
even kinda 'rootsy' sounding. Finally, a Chicago-connected
'post-rock' album where dub is a dreamy after-effect,
and not a self-conscious ingredient.
P.S.
The second best "post-Slint" music I've heard
all year is a 16-minute track by the Scottish band Ganger,
which appears on the Sound Collector #3 CD (one of those
comps that comes with a zine). It's mostly instrumental,
and the beginning is maybe a little too 'post-rock' instro-clean-chimey,
but that's what's so great about the track, the way they
take post-rock and leave it in the DUST within about 6
minutes. The accompanying article describes the Ganger
sound nicely: "...a kind of kraut/jazz thing abstracted
skywards."
MEISHA
CD; ARCO FLUTE FOUNDATION CD and live
Meisha
have a CD that also puts me in the mind of Slint, but
in a different way. This time it's the instrumental side
of Slint, such as the 10-inch, or the long vocal-free
passages on Spiderland. Take that music, and remove
the drums and, for the most part, bass, leaving only the
subdued interlocking arpeggiating guitars, make a whole
album of it, and you've got this CD. Actually, a more
appropriate Lousville model would be Rodan and their track
"Silver Bible Corner," and if you don't know Rodan you
should get their only full-length album Rusty before
(or, if you're not as omnivorous as I, instead of) this
Meisha album anyway. That sort of gives the review away,
but what the hey. It's definitely not a bad CD; their
music has certainly been honed into a substantial shape,
and I can see it having meditative/cogitative/relaxing
applications for many folks in the right situations. And
it sounds good to me when on track 6 the constantly tensing
and arpeggiating guitars finally give way into free-form
distorto noise-destruction. It's a rather thrilling moment,
a fine metaphor for freedom only after asceticism (hick
translation: work before play). The axes grind out a combined
dense, close frequency, like one group-mind on one path,
and for awhile there, you think the album's gonna make
it…but alas, the noise section too eventually seems to
lose some momentum. To their credit, this album was recorded
in 1996, and I wouldn't doubt that they've since improved
on its distinct possibilites.
I got the Meisha
CD straight from the band at a show they played in Omaha
at the Gunboat venue….well,
actually, a show in Omaha by a side project of theirs
called Arco Flute Foundation. In
Omaha, the AFF performed an extremely well thought-out,
slow-developing set of, you know, 'higher-key trance psychedelica'
through the use of three electric guitars and a propulsive,
spacious drummer. To hear these electric guitars slowly
massing and releasing in melodic chordal waves for an
extended period of time right in front of me in the candle-lit
and hushed basement underneath an Omaha boho house party
was damn near too much (of a good thing). After 20-30
minutes of uninteruppted music, they even stopped playing
and broke into rounds of drone-singing, the first use
of vocal cords in their performance, and each time their
breath ran out it was punctuated by a short round of clattering
improv.
At that point,
they had officially made the basement at Gunboat their
own temple space. The crowd was rapt. I wanted a CD, and
I got one, and it's got some good sheets-of-overtones
space-rock grooves, but it just doesn't quite live up
to the show. To its credit, it doesn't really try…but
I kinda wish it did. They have a newer LP out that I saw
get a good review. It's got hand-painted covers…maybe
you should check it out. Or at least see 'em live…they
tour quite a bit.
MEAT PUPPETS: II LP
(SST)
Truly
the best Meat Puppets album ever. Side One is so beautiful.
Six fully realized songs but the whole thing only lasts
17 minutes. It doesn't even matter what Side Two sounds
like, because Side One is so good that Meat Puppets
II gets desert island status for it alone.
It bursts out of the gate
with "Split Myself In Two," one of the only real punk-ish
hardcore-ish raveups on the whole album. The followup
is "Magic Toy Missing", a 1:20 instrumental
two-step, great both as a song and, due to its brevity,
as a cutesy little bow after the crazed opener. Somehow,
as desert-baked and crazy as they always were, the Meat
Puppets always remained cute. Even as they make noise
and howl/mumble weird surrealisms, they clearly aim to
make the listener smile here and there, and maybe even
laugh. Even their band name, an
image at once creepy and playful, represents
this strange dichotomy.
Track three is "Lost,"
as in "lost on the freeway again…lost on the freeway again…",
covered by the Minutemen, which was how I first heard
it. "Lost" is one of their sweetest country
numbers, though as usual the lyrics are ripe with ominous
metaphor. And the next song seems to represent some sort
of dead-end up ahead, on the freeway, just over the horizon,
a "Plateau" where there's "nothin' at the top but
a bucket and a mop, and an illustrated book about birds..."
Spooky, but not really, a dirgey ballad that was made
'almost famous' by Nirvana on the MTV Unplugged
show.
Without
missing a beat, "Plateau" segues into one of the best
rock instrumentals of all time (including anything by
The Shadows and The Ventures), "Aurora Borealis," a mysterio
desert-funk number that basically teases you through its
ever-circular chord changes. After these 5 songs you're
thinking "Enough! It's great already! Just let me
flip over the side!" But there's one more song, "We're
Here," and whaddaya know, it's one of their very best
songs ever, a lush quiet little dream-song, not a ballad
really, because it's got this quiet but insistent backbeat
to it.
Okay,
even if we don't need to, let's check out Side Two anyway
(we'll save time and make it one paragraph): "Climb, climb,
I always climb out of bed in the morning on a mountain
made of sand and i know this doesn't rhyme but the clutter
on the table has been getting out of hand …" is how it
starts, which is...a motto for tackling another side,
I suppose. "New Gods" (track two on side two)
is the second raveup on here ("Split Myself In Two"
was the first), though still strangely lazy thanks to
this trio's particular lazy magic and Spot's lazily magical
recording/production. The unassumingly titled "Oh
Me" is a stone-cold classic, a song I wouldn't be
afraid to call the Puppets' finest three minutes. The
verses take a chill and loping path similar to "Plateau/Aurora
Borealis," building into a triumphant chorus where
C. Kirkwood exclaims "I can't see! the end of me!...my
whole expanse I cannot see...I formulate infinity, and
store it deep inside of me." Next is another song
Nirvana almost made famous, "Lake of Fire,"
and it takes about 5 seconds for anyone to tell that the
M. Pups version is superior. Where Nirvana seemed to make
it an 'epic' 2:56 as a bouncy quasi-cool jazz number,
the Pups somehow take a full minute off the running time
by playing it as an even slower anguished fiery dirge.
When Kirkwood laments that "I knew a lady who lived
in Duluth / who was bit by a dog with a rabid tooth"
it might be kinda cute and cuddly but when he follows
it up with "but she went to her grave a little too
soon / and she flew away howling at the yellow moon"
it starts to get tense and ill all over again. (That cute/tense
cuddly/ill dichotomy again.) The next song might ease
you out of it: "I'm A Mindless Idiot", this album's third
great instrumental, which seems to say that being an idiot
and igoring the trauma, the 'lake of fire,' is indeed
bliss, as the music is jaunty and 'uplifting' again, country-rock
done sweet instead of anguished. After the mad loud hardcore
mess of their self-titled debut, I don't know how the
Puppets were so successful at consistently sounding sweet
on this album, especially when their young acid punk agitation
and dissipation can still be heard in the wasted vocals
and lyrics.
Despite or
because of the agitation and dissipation, I love every
single track on this album. The first one that might remotely
be a step back is the
very last track, "The Whistling Song", with its undermotivated
trad-jazz stylings. But by the time it's over, they've
caught back up to speed, saved by a perfectly laid-back
whistling solo and again, the Spot-engineered ambience
that permeates the whole LP. Um, thumbs up?
LINKS:
A
great Meat Puppets site
CHEAP TRICK: Heaven
Tonight LP (EPIC)
Robin
Zander had, and probably still has, one of the great rock
and roll voices. He can invoke every generation of rock'n'roll
and fully assimilate into his own rockin' present; the
Elvis hiccup, the sweet Beatles croon, the coked-out Ziggy
zombie (with a certain hollowness in his voice at times),
and even an Iggy/Joey-worthy punk sneer. (Just check "Surrender,"
especially the Live at Budakon version.) Rick Neilsen
writes what can only be called "killer hooks"
after killer hook after killer hook. With Tom Petersson
and Bun E. Carlos they rock these tunes out with one of
the great rock band images, some sort of true cartoon-glam
'raw power' pop explosion.
In Color
(1977) was the album that brought this band image
into superstardom (it started in Japan). On Heaven
Tonight, their 1978 followup, it already sounds like
they're pulling back a little, getting a little stranger.
It has the original studio version of "Surrender,"
which sounds pretty vapid when you're so used to the rollicking
Live at Budakon version we all know from mersh
radio. (Same as In Color's studio version of the
legendary "I Want You To Want Me".) But really,
the whole album kind of has that airless late-seventies
production (by Tom Werman, as on all but one of their
first four studio albums) which combines with the often
dark subject matter of the songs to make for a slightly
unsettling pop-rock experience. Only slightly, but still
noticeably more cynical and challenging than the hit-packed
In Color.
For example, side
one closer "Auf Wiedersehen" means "goodbye"
as in goodbye to your life, as in suicide, or homicide,
or maybe it just means nihilism (goodbye to everything).
Confusing matters is the fact that it's a great nervy
punk song with about 3 or 4 separate great hooks. For
another example, there's the title track (side two, cut
three), a dirging ballad for which Zander invokes his
most coked-out glam rock zombie ever, in fact singing
about being coked-out, nearly monotone as he so slowly
sings "downed...the line...couldn't get much....couldn't
get much higher if you tried....and tried...don't go over....there's
a limit....you went over..." Dark? Cynical? Challenging?
Hell, it's terrifying. And the song is deathly beautiful,
like Nico adapting the endless rideout of "I Want
You (She's So Heavy)".
Dark or not, there
are a lot of great songs on here. Even when vapidly produced
(whatever that might mean), you gotta love "Surrender,"
and the stunning "Auf Wiedersehen", and there's
also the weirdly swaggering, exquisitely chorused "High
Roller," the frantic/romantic "On Top Of The
World" with its extended psych take on "Peter
Gunn", and the heavy cover of The Move's "California
Man" (for the record, I haven't heard the original).
"Takin' Me Back (Long Time Ago)" has got tons
of great hooks as well; in fact, a few too many, and the
song ends up feeling overstuffed, and somewhat shrill
and wearying. (See, it's even got two titles.) The kitschy
"On The Radio" threatens to go down a similar
path, but somehow remains charming, even during a faux
radio announcer bit that could've come out of some theoretical
late-period Eric Carmen song produced by Jim Steinman.
I've already referred to the terrifying grandeur of the
title track, but for the album's last two songs, something
seems to slip a little. LP closer "How Are You?"
is a weird one...a bouncy little trifle so clearly meant
to cash in on In Color's "I Want You To Want
Me" that the last verse even quotes said song only
one year after its success! ("Remember?" asks
Zander outright.) "Stiff Competition", the second-to-last
song, is a rousingly anthemic big riff rocker. Zander
and Nielsen do a nice bratty vocal harmony over the big-riff
wall o'rock, but something seems to be a little detached,
kinda hollow. Don't get me wrong, it's easily redeemed
by the exquisite bridge-thing, a switch to baroque ballad
mode, Zander intoning that he "looked hard in your
eyes...it was love at first sight...it took me minutes...you're
still waiting...waiting for your turn...it won't be long".
Still, it winds its way back into the big-riff, as if
by rote, and it remains strangely airless, like I'm starting
to hear traces of the so-so late 80s Cheap Trick of Standing
on the Edge and The Doctor, and even, in "How
Are You?", the Cheap Trick that went down so easy
to the masses with their cheesy cover version of "Don't
Be Cruel", when Zander's Elvis hiccup was made too
literal with too much kitsch simplicity. I dunno, Heaven
Tonight is a weird one, a difficult but great but
difficult pop rock album by a great pop rock band who
were starting to show quirks/cracks/
growing pains.
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