Review: Symphony X – Underworld

With their latest LP, Underworld, Symphony X taps into their neoclassical roots to create one of the more entertaining listens of 2015.

Yep, I’m doing a 180 here. When a band does what they do best, it’s hard not to appreciate their effort.  Because, let’s face it, Symphony X lays it all down on their latest studio album, combining past and present influence into one of their more consistent records.

Now, before you get all “Make up your damn mind!” on me, know that this is a record burdened by familiarity, pushing more of an Iconoclast sound over, say, their coined The Divine Wings of Tragedy’s Gregorian, neoclassical epic approach. However, where Iconoclast felt pointlessly heavy, Underworld amplifies that heaviness, all the while grounding listeners with the complex, beautiful, and might I say “cleaner” songwriting of their past.  There’s reason to Romeo, Allen, Pinnella, and Rullo’s style again. This is a testament to Romeo’s obsession with Christian mythology.  Look at it this way, when a prog metal album’s concept is loosely based on Dante’s Inferno, how can you not make the material heavy as shit?

“Underworld,” with its punchy, galloping chorus, accented by Russel Allen’s binary vocal style, complements this sound realization, reminiscent to Paradise Lost’s symphonic numbers.   Now, with that in mind, you won’t get anything new on this album.  That’s where this album suffers most.  Underworld feels more like a continuation of Symphony X’s newfound appreciation for metaldom, rather than a musical progression.  At this point, you must ask:  What else do these guys have to prove?  They rode Dream Theater’s wake, producing an organic combination of power, prog, and neoclassical metal, then darkened the progressive genre further, incorporating harsher vocals, blast beats, and heavier riffs.   And, hell, the blast beats in “Underworld” will most definitely take the casual prog listener out of the equation. But, to say Underworld is uninspired is an insult to the band’s legacy and meticulous effort to separate itself from dreaded Dream Theater imitation.

Credit: Blabbermouth

Does the album feel Nuclear Blast-esque?  Metal heads will understand that statement.  The LP, as feared, suffers from the band’s overwhelming metal obsession,  “Without You,” condemned as more of a sellout, derivative “Paradise Lost” clone, contains some of Russell Allen’s most passionate vocals.  So, power prog Symphony X fans listen up.  The clean voice has returned! That’s enough to give Underworld a star in itself.

“Without You,” brings back the band’s classical influence to the forefront, replacing complexity with good ol’ fashioned emotional songwriting.  Same with “To Hell and Back.” The track’s introduction adds atmosphere to the LP, then leads to guitar, vocal, and rhythm excellence, courtesy to each band member’s famous precision.  Again, “To Hell and Back,” is more of a listenable track — oh God, not melody! Melody doesn’t belong in metal! — but the band was known for melody, never brutality. “Swan Song,” continues this trek into melodic territory, alluding to “The Accolade.”  Atmospheric, complex, melodic, beautiful, heavy in an ideological sense, rather than in a “smash your face” sense. That’s something I thought I would never hear after Iconoclast.

*On a side note, has anyone ever wondered how chaotic it is when someone asks for Michael in the band?

Meanwhile, Romeo, with his blistering fretboard control, continues to wow listeners in tracks like “Nevermore” and “Charon.” Now, I’m on the fence with these two tracks.  Remember that little “Nevermore” single review that Reviews From the Other Side composed a month or so ago?  Obviously, Symphony X wanted to continue their “guitar first” philosophy, sacrificing chorus and general appeal in the process.  This leads to disenchantment from the source material.  I appreciate a kick ass guitar performance, but when everything around that guitar performance is, well, for lack of a better word, boring, then it’s easy to forget said tracks. Disenchantment and boredom is the bane to progressive metal. Even as a fan, I can admit that. Michael Romeo and Michael Pinnella tend to noodle, it’s a known fact!  “Nevermore” is a studio single, for crying out loud! For an album that promises a collage of influences, “Nevermore” fails in that the track sounds like nothing more than a Iconoclast bonus track.  That’s what is so frustrating with this album.  It tries to move past the heaviness of Paradise Lost and Iconoclast, but for every melodic, neoclassical passage, there’s ten overwhelming, “What the fuck? Should I bang my head or air guitar?” metal wanks.

It’s in these metal passages, however, that the band’s rhythm section pulls through. Michael Romeo and Russell Allen are awesome! Who in metaldom doesn’t know that? Pinnella is a little too Rudess for me, but does his part nonetheless.  Hell, the guy even has a couple credits to his name, so kudos, good key meister. In previous recordings — especially their rendition of The Odyssey — Jason Rullo’s drums came across as flat, even mediocre at times, but Underworld brings the best out of our little mountain mover.  It’s an understatement to say Rullo was made for explosive passages, complemented by Michael Lepond’s, as-always, moving rumble.

Symphony X, with their 11th studio album, Underworld, force listeners to gaze into the looking glass of their discography, exploring their descent from neoclassical, power prog to straight forward, kick ass metal. Fans, indulge. Casual listeners, think of this album as a focused, greatest hits record.

Credit: Skullsnbones

P.S. That album art…

Ugh.

RATING:  4/5

All rights, content, and properties of header image belong to its owner.  Image found at https://fanart.tv/artist/b669c53e-5a1f-4adc-80be-755e64e8115e/symphony-x/.  All rights, content, and properties of body image one belongs to its owner. Image found at http://www.blabbermouth.net/news/symphony-xs-michael-romeo-says-underworld-album-has-a-little-bit-of-everything/.  All rights, content, and properties of body image two belongs to its owner. Image found http://skullsnbones.com/symphony-x-is-releasing-underworld-in-july/.  I have, in no way, used said images for profit.

Live Review: Steely Dan – Rockabye Gollie Angel Tour 2015

Steely Dan brought their trademark groove to the Hollywood Casino Amphitheater, complete with an impressive setlist and phenomenal backing cast.

I don’t know how many times I had to explain jazz fusion this week. It’s simple:  jazz fused with other genres, usually rock, or metal.  You’d be surprised with the scope of bands utilizing such a musical approach, sometimes subtly, other times throwing the in-itself mega genre right at listener’s faces.  Steely Dan, minus “Reelin’ in the Years” (more on that, in a minute) falls into the latter category, but don’t let that alter your perception just yet.  What separates Steely Dan and their ensemble of horns, guitars, singers, and cute, little, trumpet keyboards from bands like prog juggernaut, King Crimson, is groove.  These guys had it.  These guys still have it. And, boy, let me tell you, St. Louis felt Steely Dan’s groove on Wednesday, July 27.

I’ll admit it, I was a little on edge going into this venue.  Hollywood Casino Amphitheater — locally termed “shitty parking, shitty odors, shitty bugs,” among the locals — has reputedly poor sound production.  This was evident through Elvis Costello’s set.  Just look at his setup.

As a neutral Costello listener already, the aging hipster-Dylan failed to catch my attention.  Musically, the band explored many interesting topics and instrumentals, but between the sound quality and generally poor vocal performance, there was an air of discomfort surrounding the venue.  And not the, “The people here are going crazy,” kind of discomfort.  Yikes, did I mention the sound was bad? I know it’s an honor to follow a musical inspiration, but Costello and The Imposters fell victim to the dreaded opening sound guy, complete with inaudible guitars, overzealous vocal volume.  And let’s be honest here, that was a mistake in itself.  Such a talented and respected musician deserves more. Reviews From the Other Side, unfortunately, can not justify the hype.

That’s enough complaining.  Steely Dan practically jumped on the stage, and given both their age and the venue’s reputation, it was hard not to be inherently impressed.  The lights were unimpressive, but who attends a jazz fusion show for the effects and fireworks?  No, this is a musically complex outfit.  As pretentious as this sounds, to understand Steely Dan, listeners need to focus on the intricacies, crescendos, and transitions of Fagen and Becker’s expansive back catalog.  Steely Dan is, in no way, a “smoke a joint, drink a twelve pack, and go crazy” kind of band.  As Becker would probably put it, they’re a “glass of wine and have makeup sex” kind of experience. Lights and effects would detract from that experience.  So, how’s that for practical argument?

Credit: Dayton City Paper

I’m getting the scowl, better move on.

Steely Dan opened with two seminal numbers, “Black Cow,” and evening highlight, “Aja.”  Immediately, the amphitheater adopted a nightclub atmosphere, the horns and general setup somewhat resembling a big band rig, Fagen sulking to the right, Becker smoothing away to the left.  Smooth.  If the band could be summed in one word, it would be smooth.  “Black Cow,” with its  groovy rhythm and heavy accents, moved the audience, not exactly pulling limbs from seats, but making heads sway involuntarily.  When attention is brought on a performance with such minimal provocation, it’s a magical feeling to witness.

Then, the opening melody of “Aja” struck the audience’s nerve.  Goosebumps all around.  The instrumental following Fagen’s suspenseful verse-chorus was the highlight of the night, assaulting listeners with images of China and uncertainty. When stripped to its core, the driving force behind Fagen’s key-trumpet and Becker’s guitar is their newfound drummer’s graceful attack.  Becker himself labeled him as “The best drummer of his generation.” And besides Young Guy, I couldn’t, for the love of God, remember the guy’s name.  However, the drum solo interludes — you know, the parts where everything goes crazy for a mint — were absolutely jawdropping, not to mention the lighting guy realized he had to wake up.  All around, the instrumental highlighted each member’s repertoire.  I could spend this whole piece discussing “Aja,” but that wouldn’t be fair to the rest of the band’s set.

Transitions. I’ll always think of Steely Dan as the masters of transition.  See what I did there?  The jazz genre explores multiple avenues and various emotions throughout its millions of creations.  To make these sections, improvisations, and mood shifts work, transitions must flow seamlessly, without risking disillusionment from the listener.  Awkwardness is a jazz piece’s downfall.  Pretty much all of Aja, “Reelin’ in the Years,” “Black Friday,” “Babylon Sisters,” hell, their whole damn setlist employed perfectly executed transitions.  Even the band’s setlist moved between tracks flawlessly. When taking in the scope of Steely Dan’s 19 performances — don’t forget the improvisations — it’s hard not to fall asleep.  Yet, musicianship and transition kept the audience’s interest.  Because they’re smooth, damnit!

My only complaint is Donald Fagen’s voice.  Again, perhaps a mixing or health issue — you have to take a vocalist’s excuse with a grain of salt — but Fagen commonly adopted the vocalist, pull-away-during high-notes-to-feign-passion, trope throughout his performances.  Sure, age is a bitch and touring wears out the vocal chords.  However, amplifying the band’s background singers to mask Fagen’s struggles served as more of a distraction than if the guy actually attempted some of his more difficult lines. Either way, the overall, instrumental performance far outweighed Fagen’s minor, vocal wear and tear.  You get off this time, Fagen!

Believe me, that sounded cooler out loud.

Steely Dan proved once again the impact and importance of the jazz fusion movement during their Rockabye Gollie Angel Tour stop in St. Louis.  The parking, bugs, and strange odors were worth it after all.  Great show, through and through.

RATING: 4.5/5

Disclaimer:  All rights, property, and content of the header image belong to its owner.  Image found at http://thekey.xpn.org/2015/02/12/steely-dan-elvis-costello-playing-susquehanna-bank-center-august-3rd/.  All rights, property, and content of body image 2 belong to its owner.  Image found at http://www.daytoncitypaper.com/dukes-of-september/. I have, in no way, used said images for profit.

Monday Shuffle: Pain of Salvation – Remedy Lane

Welcome to the Monday Shuffle.  Every Monday I’m going to, as hockey profit Gordon Bombay once said, “change it up” by reviewing a random album on my iPod.  Yes, I know what you’re thinking, “How can this asshole be objective about an album he enjoys listening to?”  If you know anything about me, my iPod is littered with everything under the sun: good, bad, brilliant, terrible.  I don’t have a filter.  To put it this in perspective, I didn’t delete a couple, sappy Nickelback songs until recently.  I’m kidding.  Or, am I? (dramatic crescendo). To sum up this nonsense, my opinions alter with multiple listens.  An enjoyable first listen can easily turn into an ear scraping second listen.  Doesn’t matter. So, since I enjoyed my little iPod experiment so much the first time, here we go.  The first entry in Reviews From the Other Sides’ Monday Shuffle, and a fitting return from a slight, month(ish) hiatus:

Pain of Salvation – Remedy Lane

Credit: Metal-Archives

Pain of Salvation had a sonicly successful career.  Key word, had.  Golden voice Daniel Gildenlow, shirtless Johan Hallgren, brother Kristoffer Gildenlow, dramatic Frederick Hermansson, and holy poly rhythms, Johan Langell, served a delicious cocktail of genre innovating prog metal.  Redundant labeling aside, everything was there, the pretentiousness, the complex rhythms, the noodling guitars.  Then, haircuts and alternative rock happened.  Thanks Metallica! Because, isn’t every mistake in metal Metallica’s fault? YouTube sure as hell thinks so.  And who’s going to argue with YouTube?

Some bands just choose to strip their sound to its roots, sometimes enlightening, while most times leaving listeners like myself saying, “Really? Edgy? How is generic garage rock, especially in this day and age, edgy?”  Pain of Salvation unfortunately became Golden Gildenlow’s side project, leaving their quintessential album, Remedy Lane behind as an unfortunate memoir. And boy is it a hell of a memoir.

So, you’re probably sitting there thinking, “Why the fuck is this guy talking smack about Salvation’s later releases? What does their current direction have anything to do with anything?”  The songwriting, ladies and gentlemen.  I don’t know if it’s the departure of Johan and Frederick or lack of inspiration, but Remedy Lane is everything Road Salt I,Road Salt II, even acoustic record, Falling Home, isn’t.  The album, unfortunately, stands as the beginning of the band’s musical descent, and aside from behemoth concept-heavy LP, Be, and a handful of pop/alternative rock tracks, there seems to be nothing left in Gildenlow’s creative tank. And that’s worth mentioning, as both a fan and reviewer of Pain of Salvation.  That’s it.  I’m off my soap box.  Now, for a look back at the Pain of Salvation we all know and love.  Let’s go!

From the opening drama of “Two Beginnings,” to the heartrending, introspective conclusion of “Beyond the Pale,” Pain of Salvation successfully combined the theatrics of The Perfect Element and the foreshadowing experimentation later found on Be to create a sound all their own in Remedy Lane.  This is an album you can feel, experience, and tilt your head to in appreciation.  Unlike Be and The Perfect Element, however, Remedy Lane’s tracks stand both alone and together, never falling victim to the complexity of their overarching concept.  This can be seen as an insult regarding Remedy Lane’s comprehensive product.  Yet, balance is key here.  The songwriting stands on its own two legs, all the while sounding like nothing the band previously performed.  The music is so diverse, its cohesive.  And that’s why Daniel Gildenlow and company are classified as progressive metal — insert shades and cigarette.

There’s metal; there’s folk; there’s noodling polyrhythms; there’s even a couple pop-centric numbers in “This Heart of Mine (I Pledge),” and “Two Loves.”  Yet, when dealing with this particular genre, one must ask: does every element come together for a complete experience? Besides the album’s oddball, electronic title track, my answer is an overwhelming, heartstopping, world changing…yes!

Oh, and did I mention these guys know how to fucking play?  My God of holy drums and guitars! There’s enough musical complexity, time shifts, key changes, vocal wails in “Fandango” alone to make Yes look like a side show.  But again, the band treads on the realms of  indulgence, tapping the third circle just enough to make Cerberus salivate.  Ha, get that one?  But then, the album spins into melodic tracks like, “A Trace of Blood,” and “Undertow,” with tearjerker lyrics and a more atmospheric approach to structure and overall feeling.  These tracks are where I really “got” Daniel Gildenlow’s psyche, where emotion — think, the bridge in “Undertow” or Gildenlow’s climactic high note in “A Trace of Blood” — has a moment to peak its head without fear of being bludgeoned to death by technicality.  Sure, Johan’s solos and brother Gildenlow’s hypnotic bass grooves peak interest in the album’s more progressive numbers, not to mention one of the more tighter, non-sleep inducing epics in “Beyond the Pale,” but its Daniel’s diverse vocal performance that lifts Remedy Lane to heartrending beauty.  Great work, through and through.

Pain of Salvation’s quintessential 2002 LP, Remedy Lane, is an emotional record full of progressive rock/metal sensibilities.  Fans of Opeth and Dream Theater have probably already eaten this up, but for the more inexperienced prog listener out there in the prog omniverse with all their prog shit, this ranks high on the proggiest prog of all time.  And that’s why Reviews From the Other Side rates Remedy Lane a 4.75.

RATING: 4.75/5

All rights, properties, and content of the featured image belong to its owner, DeekshaKhanna137. Image found at https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Manfest_2011_-_Pain_of_Salvation_-_H_-_06.jpg.  All rights, properties, and content of body image belong to its owner.  Image found at http://www.metal-archives.com/reviews/Pain_of_Salvation/Remedy_Lane/1653/.

Review: Of Monsters and Men – Beneath The Skin

Beneath the Skin takes an anthemic approach to Of Monsters and Men’s familiar output of modern folk rock. However, the album fizzles out before it has any room to take hold.

For a land known for doom-impending volcanoes, harsh winters, and rotten fish, Iceland sure has a lot to say.  I can always tell when an Icelandic artist hits the airwaves.  No, it’s not the accent — which, I still can’t quite grasp.  It’s not even Icelandic pop’s knack for weirdness, like Bjork’s army of bell wielding children.

Credit: Jack Cullen

Nothing like some bells and ash to kick off the day.

And then there’s the Island’s folk scene.  Of Monsters And Men, along with England’s surprise hit, Mumford And Sons, helped bring folk rock back to the mainstream, taking advantage of floor drums, “ooh, ahs,” and other cliches hyped by the industry.  Thank God they never reached Fun. extravagance.  What separates the outfit, however, is their unique atmosphere.  Of Monsters and Men just sounds…different.  In a good way, mind you. I don’t know if it’s some subconscious, predisposed knowledge of their culture, but I can feel Iceland in their music.  Natural, alien, Icelandic landscapes.  And that’s coming from an American keyboard warrior with limited knowledge of the music’s cultural background. My Head Is An Animal emitted that feeling; Beneath the Skin, especially in its early tracks, emits that feeling.  I only wish that catharsis continued throughout the LP’s 48 minute running time.

48 minutes.  Such a running time leaves little excuse for blandness.  So, what happened? Similar to other 2015 folk rock releases, Beneath the Skin suffers from sophomoric identity crisis.  The album’s style lies between straightforward, anthemic folk rock and derivative, “haven’t I heard this before?” pop rock. Victims of this identity crisis are, “Hunger,” “Wolves Without Teeth,” “Empire,” pretty much the LP’s entire midsection. After an explosive introduction, the former two tracks never reach beyond their simplicity, while “Empire” grabs pacing by the throat and chokes the life out of it.  I’ve never said it once, but I’ll say it now.  The middle section of an LP is paramount to its success.  By the third song, I didn’t know if I was listening to a folk or pop record.  That’s a problem. The line between genres lacks the seamlessness of a band comfortable with their sound.  “Wolves Without Teeth,” for example, is a straight forward pop tune, relying heavily on a shallow chorus and modern folk tropes to get its point across.

Sure, Of Monsters and Men always took a listener friendly approach to songwriting.  But, whereas “Crystals” and “Human” are atmospheric and easy listening, the album’s midsection feels uninspired, lifeless, almost too safe.  Although accessibility isn’t fair criticism for such a pop oriented sound, I can’t help but feel disappointed in Of Monsters and Men’s approach to experimentation.  As is common in the dreaded sophomore record, the songwriters have found their comfort zone and dwell within it.  This time, more ballads, more acoustic tracks, more general…meh. Again, the natural feeling expressed in My Head Is An Animal is replaced by familiarity, lacking that boundary-stretching, yet listenable folk sensibility I was searching for.  .

However, when the album hits, it hits fucking hard.  “Human,” I think I already talked about this track, but I’m all about repetition, thrusts the listener through a variety of musical colors, with heart jerking acoustic sections and haunting melodies. This kind of track is why I even listen to this damn outfit.  Of Monsters and Men is all about sound height, that climactic explosion of poppy folk sweetness.  And, if you know anything about Reviews From the Other Side, we’re all about those goosebump moments.  “Thousand Eyes” even throws in a post-rock-esque build.  This sudden moment of experimentation, followed by tearjerker, “I Of The Storm,” added some much needed dynamics to the staleness of the album’s midsection.  Ragnar þórhallsson — I cheated and used Google. Like hell if I’m going to find that letter. You know which one — stepped up for this album.  “Human” utilizes his youthful, but emotional timbre, mixing well with the overarching melody and Nanna Bryndís Hilmarsdóttir’s delicate croon.  The band’s debut seemed unsure of what to do with their male vocalist.  However, Ragnar seals his position in Beneath The Skin and develops himself as something more than a sidekick.

As is commonplace in modern studio records, Beneath the Skin opens and ends strongly, but is burdened by uninspired and inconsistent songwriting.  No, you won’t find another “Little Talks” track on this LP, if that means anything to you.  Those looking for background pop may look no further.  Those flipping for the next genre defining folk record better flip on. It’s as simple as that.

RATING:  3/5

Disclaimer:  All properties, content, and rights of the featured image belong to its owner.  Image found at http://www.06live.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/of-monsters-and-men-752×315.jpg.  All properties, content, and rights of body image belong to its owner.  Image found at http://jackcullen.blogspot.com/2012/02/for-whom-bell-tolls-bjork-and-alexander.html.

The Fall of the Album

Analyzing the music industry is a lot like analyzing a cat.  You think you understand its movements, coordination, communication, but you end up realizing it’s all manipulation for its own personal gain.  Music is a breathing entity, and like normal “entities,” it needs some cash to stay afloat.  Bare bones, that’s basic business. So, what garners cash more than riding trends in the music industry? Behold the radio single, the masterpiece and libation of studio production.  With a single marketable track, musicians possess, and possessed, the ability to forsake consistent quality.  Sure, classic artists such as Black Sabbath, Pink Floyd, and The Beatles released single promotions.  Those artists, however, also released Master of Reality, Dark Side of the Moon, and Revolver. What timeless album has Ke$ha produced? Think about it.  We can’t blame it all on the radio single, however.  Unfortunately, as modern artists take advantage of the digital marketplace, the album has become an afterthought, more of a token of gratitude than a fleshed out experience.

The digital music marketplace is a wonder.  Radiohead, with their innovative record In Rainbows, was one of the first albums to exploit this venture, adopting a “pay what you can” strategy.  According to Music Ally, the album was number one in the United Kingdom and the United States in its first three months.  And this was when you didn’t even have to pay for the damn thing.  Now, if you download an album for free, record companies shit their pants and sue you for everything you own.  Everything!  To contest torrenting, Spotify, Pandora, and other streaming services started their print in the digital world, providing an additional avenue for artists.  Album streams have transcended expectations, but sales? That’s a different story. Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly moved over 300,000 copies in its first week.  Yet, it was streamed over 9 million times. So, yes, To Pimp a Butterfly sold well for a modern, popular album, but its streaming numbers prove that the popular marketplace desires “entertainment” at little to no price. Albums are just too expensive to make and nobody wants to pay for them.

Hence the live production.  It’s well known that rock and metal outfits bring in more from touring and merchandise sales than album sales.  Take it from Jim Root, guitarist of Slipknot, one of the highest selling metal bands of the decade.  Oh wait, it’s past the nineties.  Highest selling metal outfit two decades ago, how does that sound? The band has sold over five million records, but when it’s all said and done, they brought in pocket change compared to the industry’s golden age(s).  Production, label, marketing, distribution, and retail costs all contribute to an album’s lowered value.  Not to mention less popular outfits.  If you’re below a sellout headliner, try for a charting single or get used to bars because, if Metal Sucks has anything to say about it, you’re shit out of luck. So, in this regard, the album has become nothing more than a tour promotion.  Useful in the right context, yes.  Inspired? Depends on how much the artist cares about his or her “art.”  Damn, I tried to stay objective.

Here we are, the beloved commentary on musical quality. Let’s face it, music isn’t what it was during the 60’s through the 90’s.  As I said, radio singles were more of a marketing strategy to boost album sales.  Albums were the norm; albums were the desire of the popular market.  How many of you have that old family member who boasts about his or her extensive record collection? Personally, I envy them. Back then, when attention spans — i.e. boredom — were at an all time high, albums were cool, man.  Besides the recent Indie and hip hop movements, timelessness is nonexistent, replaced by the iPod shuffle.  Before, musical quality was paramount to an artist’s success. The radio single brought in sales, but bands had to wow listeners because their consumers had to buy their entire output. Thanks, internets! Why waste time and money on a consistent record when you can make millions off one track? If I’m a pop musician or executive looking for cash, I know the route I’d take.

As the music business evolves, more nails are driven into the album’s coffin.  This dramatic metaphor can be attributed to the digital market, production cost, and radio single.  However, to those grinding away in the production dungeon to create that groundbreaking album, I salute you!

Disclaimer:  All rights, content, and properties of the featured image belongs to Adam Fagen at https://www.flickr.com/photos/afagen/2119323310. I have, in no way, used said image for profit.

Review: Muse – Drones

Drones is the byproduct of a pop/prog band that takes itself too seriously. I love it.

One must tread lightly when dealing with a band like Muse.  On one hand, there’s the fans.  Think, Radiohead fans, but take away a few years, and add belief that Matt Bellamy is Freddy Mercury’s second coming.  Yeah, we’re talking X Files devotion here, man.  On the other hand, the general opinion of the band lies on a “hate em’ or love em'” basis, leaving little room for objective criticism.  If such a thing even exists.  I don’t blame listeners, though.  Muse is too prog for the pop fan, too song-oriented for the general prog head.  There really isn’t a middle ground, but for eye rollers and coffee slammers like myself.

Muse is a band of taste, dabbling in prog excess without garnering too much of the pompousness required for a full blown member of the genre.  Yes, Bellamy’s lyrics are pretentious and ofttimes cheesy.  The concepts are often overblown and preachy.  Yet, when stripped down, Muse explores multiple musical avenues, a unique blend of electronica, jazz, rock, and even metal. Not to mention Absolution and Black Holes and Revelations brought progressive rock back into the mainstream. That alone is respectable.  Drones doesn’t bring anything new to the table, but continues Matt Bellamy, Dominic Howard, and Christopher Wolstenholme’s statement on the state of progressive rock.

Straight off, the album goes into Depeche Mode territory with opener, “Dead Inside.”  Cringeworthy song title aside, the track does well as an introduction to the band’s bombastic sound.  Drum machines.  Drum machines everywhere! “Dead Inside” is as genetically close to a classic Muse song than any other track on the record.  The track bleeps and bloops in a weird intro before hitting the listener with emotion.  Muse emotion, that is.  I say that because there’s a level of drama only Muse can create, and it is in this emotional crescendo, that listeners are divided. The lyrics, themselves, are suspect.  Behind Bellamy’s still impressive falsetto, “Dead Inside,” brings out a healthy dose of Muse drama, spouting:

Your lips feel warm to the touch/You can bring me back to life/On the outside you’re ablaze and alive/But you’re dead inside.

Muse, “Dead Inside,” Drones (2015)

Overseeing the album is a convoluted concept of prog’s finest subject: individualism.  As in the past, I try to focus on the music and lyrics alone, so concept falls low on my critical repertoire.  However, I can’t help but roll my eyes at the lack of originality in Bellamy’s lyrics.  They observe topics with the most shallow of executions, exploiting cliche after cliche as if wishing to frustrate the listener.  In this regard, the juvenile lyrics take away from the music.  Coming from a guy that places lyrics behind music, that’s saying a lot.

Luckily, the music is strong enough to mask the overdone concept. As listeners reach the album’s midsection, the music becomes abrasive, adopting elements of hard rock, even metal. “The Handler,” for instance, grabs this musical progression by the balls.  Muse tackled heaviness in previous albums in tracks like, “Knights of Cydonia,” and “Stockholm Syndrome,” but Drones brings their heavier spectrum to the forefront.  And I’ll admit, I like this new direction.  For the first time, Muse’s album feels tied together, bringing in multiple markets, but still holding on to their trademark sound.  Each influence comes through in album epic, “The Globalist,” the main highlight of the album, a track exploding with melody and aggression.  This track is the pinnacle of Muse’s experimentation, while, “Revolt,” and, “Mercy,” tap into accessible, Queen-esque waters.  If anything, Drones is an accessible progressive rock album, which — I must say — shows songwriting maturity.

At the head of this aggressive direction is Matt Bellamy’s guitar.  Neoclassical, earpleasing shreddery.  Although the album’s tracks fail to reach, “Stockholm Syndrome,” intensity, Bellamy still throws down memorable riffs in heavier tracks like, “Psycho,” and “Defector.” Besides lead guitar, each instrument plays for atmosphere over technical brilliance. That’s okay. My only complaint, musicianship-wise, is the absence of natural drum sounds. I get that the band strives for more of an electronic feel, but the drums, at times, make the songs feel…synthetic.  Perhaps intentional, perhaps an aesthetic choice.  Maybe it’s a production issue.  Either way, Dominic Howard’s kit sounds lifeless and that’s a problem.

Overall, Muse’s seventh studio album, Drones, overcomes its shoddy concept and stale rhythm section with an accessible, but heavy approach to the progressive genre.

RATING:  3.75/5

Disclaimer: All properties, rights, and content of the featured image belong to its owner.  Image found at http://preorder.muse.mu/. I have, in no way, used said image for profit.

Review: Nightwish – Endless Forms Most Beautiful

Nightwish continue their mesh of symphonic and gothic metal, but this time with more bagpipes.  Oh, and a new singer.

Okay, I’m going to go ahead and get this out of the way now.  When a new Nightwish review hits the interwebs, the first attached comment will always be one of two options:

1. Old Nightwish good, new Nightwish bad.

2.  Tarja good, new singer bad.

So, I’m gonna play the part of the father in Monty Python and the Holy Grail’s Lancelot skit.  Let’s not argue about who killed who and worry about the output currently before us.  After a four year stint of touring, Nightwish finally released their eighth studio album, Endless Forms Most Beautiful.  It is a bombastic collaboration of punchy, melodic metal songs and beautiful ballads, flavored with new influences here and there.  And that means featured vocalist, Floor Jansen, whose voice is a growing entity in the metal community.  With the range, power of Tarja Turunen and playfulness of Anette Olsen, Jansen fits well into the Nightwish machine.  If you need proof, just watch her rendition of “Ghost Love Score” during their set at Wacken Open Air, 2013.  Can you say goosebumps?

Credit: Wikipedia

After twenty years, Tuomas Holopainen  continues to show his songwriting chops, and although he’s facing a wall in regards to progression, the catchiness and darkness that is Nightwish continues in Endless. The album is everything a Nightwish fan can expect, from symphonic passages and chugging riffs, to just that epic fucking explosion of sound, so I’m sure that demographic is pleased with the release.  Well, besides the spammers I just called out, of course.

Now, since the music is everything that is expected, that unfortunately means Endless Forms inherits familiarity with little regard to direction.  More of the same. Tuomas Holopainen shows he still has his Disney-inspired bombast — see the epic “The Greatest Show on Earth” — but strays into his back catalogue for inspiration, often rehashing melodies and riffs.

I wouldn’t go as far as saying the songwriting has become lazy, but the album, like Imaginaerium and Dark Passion Play, sounds like Once.  He’s comfortable.  Every leading songwriter faces that moment, where “using what works” leads his or her direction over past ambition.  And, who’s to blame Tuomas? During the late 90’s, Oceanborn, Wishmaster, and Century Child redefined power and gothic metal, and Once brought the band into the mainstream as a full form symphonic metal outfit.  With that formula, they became one of Finland’s most successful bands. Their current sound works.  But brassy, Zimmer-like blaaams here, derivative chugging there, and random, folky tunes get tiring after the hearing them for the fourth and fifth time.

“Shudder Before the Beautiful,” although rehashing riffs and melodies from “Dark Chest of Wonders,” is a by-the-books Nightwish opener. Scientist Richard Dawkins leads a voice over — pretension aside, a solid choice by the band —  before the song explodes in true Nightwish form.  Moving melodies, Floor’s powerful, belting voice, choirs, you name it.  Not the most refreshing piece of music.  Yet, the track introduces the album’s approach and style like a good opener should, thus succeeding. I didn’t think I’d notice Jukka’s absence that much. There is a distinct sound difference with Kai Hahto (Wintersun) behind the kit.  Whereas Jukka pounded away, Kai tends to rely on simplistic measures.  I mean, sure, Nightwish isn’t exactly known for its complex drum patterns, but Jukka added flair and power to the band’s sound.  Maybe it’s Endless’ mixing, with the drums muddled deeper in the master track, rather than Kai’s ability.  He holds his own, but fails to capture Nightwish’s classic barrage.

“Elan,” the band’s leading single is taken straight out of Dark Passion Play[‘s] playbook.  On this track, Floor adopts Annette’s more poppy register, leading the melody forward.  At this point, I started to realize how underused her voice is on Endless Forms Most Beautiful.  Like Annette’s Passion Play, this album stands as a “getting the hang of it” experience for the new singer.  You get one warm up, Floor, and then it’s game time!  I want to hear the climax of “Ghost Love Score,” not the safe territories of “Alpenglow.”  That’s not to say she stays under the radar.  Not at all.  Her voice shines on “Edema Ruh,” and the album’s closer, “The Greatest Show on Earth,” but is mostly restrained where it could be brought out to the forefront.  For some reason, when Floor reaches out, her voice falls deeper into the mix, overshadowed by classical composition or bagpipes.  Ugh, the bagpipes.  Even bassist Marco Heitala seems restrained, the duality of the male-female trope all but an afterthought.  Shit, the whole band sounds restrained on this album, come to think of it.

I’m not going to sit here and talk shit about Nightwish’s 2015 LP the whole time.  “The Greatest Show on Earth” is an astonishing piece of Disney-style, smack-your-ears-and-make-you-cry songwriting, and is one of Tuomas Holopainen’s best productions, with its soaring melodies, genre bending epicness, and wonderful vocal performance by Floor.  There’s even a weird safari passage, which successfully immerses the listener by creating paranoia.  This paranoia is then punctuated by a well-timed barrage of riffs and symphonic goodness.  Meanwhile, “My Walden” features a tasteful — notice I said tasteful — folk direction, thanks to the band’s rhythm section and guitarist Empuu Vuorinen’s creative riffing. Immersive, that’s what I enjoy about Nightwish’s patented sound. Each song fits together.  Yes, the album sounds like its predecessors, but like those predecessors, the album feels like a complete experience, or more to the point, a film soundtrack.

This is an album for prog heads and power metal enthusiasts.  But, for someone who has followed the Nightwish for years, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed by its self-derivative nature.  Endless Forms Most Beautiful is a solid continuation of their symphonic sound, however hindered by stagnant songwriting and iffy production values.

Rating: 3.5/5

Disclaimer:  All content, rights, and properties of the featured image belongs to vladcoreanu on Deviantart at http://vladcoroeanu.deviantart.com/art/Nightwish-Endless-Forms-Most-Beautiful-QHD-509809922.  All content, rights, and properties of the body image belongs to rjforster on Flickr at https://www.flickr.com/photos/rjforster/1359290822/. I, in no way, have used said images for profit or intend to use the photos for profit.

5 Days of Rush! Day 2

4. Moving Pictures

Number 4 was a hard choice for me.  Shit, this whole list has proven difficult.  When you’re dealing with one of rock’s most consistent discography, the phrase “personal favorite” kind of becomes an understatement.  I mean, shit, there’s Permanent Waves, A Farewell to Kings, 2112, Hemispheres…so, this time, get ready for Rush’s more influential — meaning, famous — 1981 record, Moving Pictures.  

At this point in their careers, the holy trinity already dropped four progressive juggernauts, and their sound threatened to be at its peak.  There’s no way three guys could possibly top “2112” or “Cygnus” or even crank out a single anywhere close to “Spirit of Radio.”  And then, pewwwwwwwwwww!

Credit: Steve Selwood

Yeah, you Rush fans and classic rock radio listeners know exactly what I’m talking about.  You’re probably air drumming right now just thinking about the intro to “Tom Sawyer,” the bands goldmine.  What’s there not to love?  The track pushed the boundaries of contemporary — for the time — mainstream music, throwing instrumental complexities straight at the average listener with Canadian fury.

Okay, maybe that was an oxymoron, but you get the idea.  Geddy throws down a solid bass groove, complemented nicely by layered synths.  Before Pictures, Rush hinted towards more electronic influences, but “Tom Sawyer,” brings the element to the forefront in a tasteful, even kickass fashion.  An album achievement, for sure, but later, this synthesizer obsession invited electronic drums and diminished guitars. But, that’s another story entirely.

Moving Pictures prides itself on melody over complexity without reaching too far into the pop realm. Sure, there’s an instrumental, a cult instrumental at that, “YYZ,” and an epic, but the songwriting never indulges in itself. That’s what separates Moving Pictures from the rest of Rush’s discography.  It is a complete, balanced sound, where all the gears click and have purpose.  Hard rockers will apppreciate the more direct sound of “Limelight.” Shit, drummers still can’t get over Peart’s solo in “Tom Sawyer,” and I don’t blame them.  Either way, each song stands on its own and moves forward in a seamless, well paced fashion.  This, my friends, is what a mature sound is supposed to sound like.  I won’t be the first to admit that Rush has their fair share of wanky moments.  For those alien to the word:

Wankery – verb, adjective, noun – someone who partakes in playing for the self rather than the music, usually playing scales really damn fast just for the sake of playing them. Example: I can’t stand that Malmsteen guy! All he does is wank!

That’s not to say the album doesn’t have its experimental numbers.  The closer, “Vital Signs,” ejects a simple but sweet Reggae riff, while Geddy’s bass blazes in the background.  Geddy’s voice carries at a tolerable level throughout the track, adding some soul to his otherwise wailing vocal chords.  I’ve always appreciated the man’s lower register due to its clarity and beautiful tone.  This tone especially comes out in the track’s repeated final lyric:

 Everybody got to deviate from the norm.

– Neil Peirt, “Vital Signs,” Moving Pictures (1981)

Geddy’s voice in “Tom Sawyer,” brings forth the wail we all know and love, but “Vital Signs” feels more personal, melancholic, beautiful with its slowed down tempo and emotional lyrics. “Red Barchetta,” on the other end, adopts the slow intro, driving — pardon the pun — verse and chorus style of songwriting, with creative harmonics throughout.

Oh complaints, my least and favorite part of reviews, depending on the album.  Unlike Clockwork Angels, Moving Pictures has excellent production so that critique goes out the window.  But, there’s no such thing as a perfect work of art.  If you find one, please play it or show it to me so I can write an easy review for once.  I know I just complimented the pacing of the album’s tracks, but unfortunately, some of the songs tend to drag.  “The Camera Eye,” for instance, could’ve been reduced to 9 minutes, instead of 11, but that’s neither here nor there.  Also, the synths, in all their spacey glory, tend to distract the listener rather than engage them, taking away from the album’s impact.

Overall, excellent musicianship,  strong flow, and beautiful melodies bring Moving Pictures lower on Reviews From the Other Side’s 5 Days of Rush.

Rating: 4.75

Disclaimer: All rights, property, and content of featured image belong to the artist.  The Featured image was found on http://www.grayflannelsuit.net/blog/album-cover-of-the-week-moving-pictures.  All rights, property, and content of the header image belongs to Steve Selwood on Flickr at https://www.flickr.com/photos/8507625@N02/3471262732/in/photostream/. I, in no way, have used the said images for profit.  Image cropped for size.